I was born in Fountain Green, Hancock County, Illinois, February 17, 1877.
It is a matter of record that Samuel Huston No. 5 is the ancestor who assisted in establishing American Independence while acting as a Private in Capt. Henry McKinley's Company, 12th Pennsylvania Regiment, commanded by Col. William Cook, Revolutionary War. Also the name appeared on script roll which shows that he entered the service November 11, 1776, that he was in the service one month and four days and received 2-16-8 as the full amount of his pay and 2-8-0 as subsistence.
Quoting from "History of the Huston Families", compiled and written by E. Rankin Huston of Mechanicsburg, Pa., a member of the Pennsylvania Historical Society, Scotch-Irish as were nearly all the first settlers in that locality. That Christopher Huston made a will April 26, 1773, which was probated December 15, 1784, which was probated October 12, 1784.
Christopher Huston and Samuel Huston settled near each other in that part of Silver Spring Township lying north of the Conodoguinet Creek, Cumberland County, Pa. and were Scotch-Irish as were nearly all the first settlers in that locality. That Christopher Huston made a will April 26, 1773, which was probated December 14, 1784. That Samuel Huston made a will September 15, 1784, which was probated October 12, 1784.
That Christopher Huston and Susanna Wilson, his wife, had seven children. The sixth child was John. That Samuel Huston and Isabella Sharon, his wife, had ten children. The third child was Margaret. That this above mentioned John Huston and Margaret Huston were married, no date, and they had issue eleven children, from whom the tenth child, Samuel, proceeds this ancestral line. That Samuel Huston and Isabella Sharon are Father and Mother to us all.
That they were members of Silver Spring Presbyterial Church and that remains repose in Pine Hill Cemetery which is located at the northwest corner of the old Samuel Huston farm. It is also, as of record, that Samuel Huston and Isabella Sharon's fifth child was named Jonathan from whom proceeds the ancestral line of E. Rankin Huston, author of "History of the Huston Families" and a member of the Pennsylvania Society of the S.A.R.
Early settlers of Cumberland County, Penn., Chapter 2, Page 22.
Progenitor of the family was John Huston who came to America from Ireland about 1735 and settled in Cumberland Co., Penn., where he remained until the year 1745; he and his family removed to Virginia and settled on the "Burdens Tract" in Rockbridge County. John Huston's three children, Robert, Isabella and Esther, were born in Pennsylvania before they went to Virginia. Robert Huston married Margaret Davidson. Among Robert's six children was a son named Samuel. Samuel married Elizabeth Paxton. This Samuel was a military man and rose to the position "Brigade Inspector of the Militia of Virginia." Samuel and Elizabeth Paxton had nine children; six sons and three daughters. The fifth of these children was a son named Samuel who became the distinguished General Sam Houston of Texas. The foregoing concerning General Sam Houston taken from the "History of the Huston Families" corresponds to the history of the same man called "the Raven" written by Marquise James and copyrighted 1929.
Editor's Note:
According to the foregoing about General Sam Houston, his ancestral line
came down through one of John Huston's three children, Robert, born in
Cumberland Co. and spelled their names "Huston" but moved to Va., before Gen.
Sam Houston was born, which accounted for them to adopt the Virginia way of
spelling his name "Houston."
Being a continuation of the ancestral line of Samuel Huston and Isabella Sharon of East Pennsboro Twp, continuing on through their child Margaret Huston married to John Huston and continuing down to my mother Harriet Jane Huston as shown Page 1, No 1-2-3-4-5.
About the year 1790, John and Margaret Huston moved from East Pennsboro Twp onto a tract of land which he had previously purchased from James Carothers in 1778. When John Huston bought this land it was within the bounds of West Pennsboro Twp, but in 1785 Dickinson Twp was formed from W. Pennsboro Twp and this tract of land came within the bounds of Dickinson Twp.
My mother Harriet Jane Huston, born at Fountain Green, Hancock, Co., Illinois, October 7, 1852, married James McGinley Campbell born at Fannettsburg, Penn., January 28, 1843. My mother's history had been sufficiently covered in the paternal ancestry of my father, James McGinley Campbell, and I could now proceed with a story of my own life, but first there is a bit of history about Dickinson Twp, where my grandfather John Wilson Huston was born and grew to manhood, which I would like to give.
In 1948, my wife, Ruby Alice Marshall Campbell, and I made a trip to New York to visit a son and family, and on our way home we stopped at Carlisle, Penn., and made inquiry at the court house, how to get to Dickinson Twp and the farm of Albert Huston where my grandfather, John Wilson Huston, was born and grew to manhood. The said Alfred Huston was the last known relative to own the farm. We were directed a short ways south of Carlisle and took the road marked No. 33, going west until we came to the Dickinson Township Presbyterian Church with cemetery in the church yard. A county road ran straight north about two miles to the birth place of my grandfather, which was easily recognizable by the two story brick house and large bank barn across the road, which I had seen previously in separate framed pictures at the homestead of John Wilson Huston four miles southeast of Fountain Green, Illinois. (Here in Fountain Green, it was that my mother was born in a log cabin, as well as a sister Anna and five of the younger brothers. But they were not all born in the log cabin, as a two story frame home had taken its place by the time I was a small boy, as well as a commodious barn.)
Grandfather Huston married Katherine Weems Black in May, 1849, of Newville, Penn., and went to housekeeping on a farm near Newville. This was a short distance to the northwest of the birthplace of my grandfather. Here their oldest son, Thomas Black Huston, was born September 19, 1850.
It was quite evident that my grandfather moved to Illinois soon afterwards as my mother was born October 7, 1852 at the homestead above, four miles southeast of Fountain Green.
The other brothers and sisters were born as follows:
My wife and I visited the Dickinson Presbyterian Church and read the inscriptions on many of the grave markers, among which was most prominent the names of John W. Black and Katherine (Weems) Black, father and mother of my grandmother, Katherine Weems Black, who married John Wilson Huston and other names of the Black family. Such names as James, Robert, David, Henry, Maria and Weakley were found.
This is all of the Dickinson Twp history. Suffice to say, I have the Bible record of births with dates of all the children of John W. Black and his wife, Katherine Weems Black. I also have the pictures of the two story brick house and the large bank barn framed and hanging over my desk in the den of my home at Route 5, Box 316, in Fort Worth, Texas. This is the same picture mentioned above of the house where my grandfather John Wilson Huston was born.
This account has to do largely with difference of spelling in the two branches and the ultimate same ancestral line.
The family name was originally House-Son. The remotest member of the family register was named Robert House-Son. He was a Celtic origin and was born in Dublin, Ireland, July 5, 1450, where he lived and died a merchant.
John House-Son was born June 2, 1475, and was a son of Robert. He was sent by his father to St. Andrew's College in Scotland. After his education was completed, he was given a place in that institution as Professor and Teacher of Languages. On the 8th of January, 1500, he married Martha Scott by whom he had one son and two daughters. The son he called Samuel House-Son, was born September 3, 1523 and educated at St. Andrew's. After the death of his father, he took his place as professor of Languages in that institution. On March 8, 1549, he married Mary Scott, by whom he had two sons and four daughters. The sons he named Alfred and Abnor House-Son.
Alfred House-Son, the first son of Samuel House-Son, was born Sept. 6, 1572. Abnor, the second son of Samuel, was born October 10, 1577. They were educated in Aberdeen Academy and on the 13th day of January, 1607, they were married to twin sisters, daughters of Welch Sconce, a merchant of Aberdeen. The name of Alfred's wife was Ruth, and of Abnor's wife, Rachael. After their marriage, Alfred was given a position in the Academy as Prof. of Philosophy and Mathematics. Abnor engaged with his father-in-law in the mercantile business.
About this time, the Reformation had given rise to violent religious controversy, and the two brothers decided to change their surname. Accordingly, Alfred proposed to write their name, Houston, but Abnor thought there was in this spelling too much of the sound of House, and proposed Huston, as further removed from the original, and more phonetic.
Before they agreed upon this change of their name, Alfred resolved to emigrate to America. Accordingly, on the 12th day of April, 1612, he and his wife and one child, with several other families, embarked for the new world. They landed at Jamestown on the James River, and cast their lots with the "London Colony" which had been established in 1607, but the famous Captain John Smith, whose life had been saved by Pocahontas.
Abnor, his brother, who remained in the old world, emigrated from Dublin to Wales, located in Corwon on the Dee River, where he engaged in his favorite calling, merchandising.
There being no preacher of "John Knox Doctrine" in the London Colony, upon the arrival of Alfred at Jamestown, he was employed to preach the new doctrine to the colonists. He soon became known as the Knoxite, although differing with many of the colonists in religious faith.
Four years after Alfred located at Jamestown, he wrote to his brother Abnor giving him a glowing account of the new world, and insisting that he should emigrate and join him at Jamestown, and subscribed his name to the letter, Alfred Houston.
Abnor accepted the invitation to emigrate to Jamestown and signing his name Abnor Huston, showing that each of the brothers had adhered to his preference of a new spelling of their names. After they met at Jamestown, they decided that each family should retain the spelling respectively adopted.
Before Abnor left Wales, there had been born to him three sons, Joseph born October 9, 1609, John, born June 1, 1611, and Samuel, born Sept. 13, 1613.
There was born to Alfred, one son and three daughters. The son, Robert was born on the ocean during the voyage to America, April 18, 1612. The eldest daughter, Jemina, was born April 6th, 1610. Clarinda was born at Jamestown Oct. 30th, 1614; Leona was also born at Jamestown, April 17, 1617.
The first legislative body to meet on American soil met at Jamestown, July 1619. Among the delegation were Alfred Houston and Abnor Huston.
Two of Abnor's sons, Joseph and Samuel, left Jamestown with their families June 1, 1640 and located at Fairfax on the Potomac River and there established a high school, the first to be established in that section.
Abnor's son, John, with his family of four sons and two daughters, and seven young men, emigrated, May 4, 1654, to a point on the Delaware River, above the site of where the town of Philadelphia was afterward located.
When William Penn arrived there in 1681 with a grant from King James for the territory now called Pennsylvania, he employed John Huston as an assistant in surveying his grant, and laying it off in sections and counties. He also assisted in laying out the site which Penn named Philadelphia.
John Huston was one of the first to erect a log residence upon the birthplace of the city.
Here Alfred's register leaves the lineage of his nephew, John Huston, and his descendants.
A notation by Franklin Warren Huston, author of all the foregoing information, was to the effect that all the families in the United States who spell their names "Huston" are descendants of this John Huston and his two brothers, who located at Fairfax, Virginia, and through them from their father, Abnor Huston.
It must be remembered, and it is only natural to assume, that the descendants of the John Huston that lived in Philadelphia area emigrated westward, settling in Lancaster and York Counties and eventually Cumberland Co., where the ancestral line is picked up with the ancestral line of Samuel Huston and Isabella Sharon as shown in their genealogist Register, Page 202, "The History of the Huston Families" by E. Rankin Huston of Mechanicsburg, Pa.
It is further pointed out that the ancestral line of General Sam Houston had its beginning in Cumberland Co., in a certain John Huston, who came to America from Ireland in 1735 and settled in Pennsylvania. The oldest of three children born to this John Huston was named Robert and married Margaret Davidson: a son named Samuel married Elizabeth Paxton. They had nine children, the fifth of these was a son Samuel who became the distinguished Gen. Samuel Houston. This information was written by the Rev. Samuel Rutherford Houston of Pickaway, Monroe C., Virginia.
It is further pointed out that the History of Alfred Houston and Abnor Huston, written by Franklin Warren Houston antedated the birth of Gen. Sam Houston who was born March 2, 1793, by about one hundred and fifty years. This is according to the same author who states that the ancestral line of Gen. Sam Houston is by way of the John Huston who went north from Jamestown to Philadelphia, thence westward to Cumberland Co. The history of the Huston families does not show any of Alfred Houston's descendants had gone to Pennsylvania, but went from Jamestown to the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia.
My paternal ancestry began at the village of Fannettsburg, Pennsylvania. It is located twelve miles north of Fort Lowden or Louden on Highway #75. If you are traveling on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, it is just a short ways off the Turnpike. Fannettsburg is a small village, situated between two mountain ranges and the valley between these ranges was called "Lower Path Valley" and "Upper Path Valley" with a Presbyterian Church at each place.
Fannettsburg was at "Lower Path Valley" and the Presbyterian Church was at the intersection of Highway #75 and the one main street running east and west. The old Campbell homestead is on this street running east and west. I took pictures of it in 1948. It was a two story house with what appeared to be a large attic, which had large full size windows at each end and from the size of the Campbell family, the room would be needed.
Uncle Denny Walter had a nice commodious home on this street next door to the church. Uncle Denny married my father's sister "Mary Emma", and they had one boy named Samuel Albert and he married Anna McAllen.
Cousin Albert and Anna Walker made a visit to my father's home northwest of Elvaston when I was a very small boy. I wrote Anna one time for information (Albert was deceased), and in reply she wanted to know if I was the one who stood on my head on a stool in the middle of the floor. She had a better memory than I.
Rev. Chas. McClay was the minister of this Presbyterian Church and in reply to me about a letter that I had written to him for information said that the church records showed the names of John Campbell and James Campbell as elders. A former minister of this church, Rev. AA McGinley served both the Lower and Upper Path Valley Churches for years and never received over $400 in any year. My father received that part of name "McGinley" from Rev. McGinley and it is only natural to surmise that Rev. McGinley baptized most of the Campbell children.
My great grandfather John Campbell was born July 16th, 1779 and died February 16th, 1835. He married Isabel Orr September 8th, 1800, who was born December 11th, 1780, and died May 11th, 1855.
So far as I know, my great grandfather may have spent the major part of his life in Fannettsburg, but it is quite likely that he may have migrated there as I was not able to trace the ancestry any farther back.
My great grandparents had six children as listed:
My grandparents James Campbell and Elizabeth McCullough had twelve children:
Isabel Campbell and James Marshall had eleven children:
It can be noted from the above genealogy that James and Isabel Campbell had large families. It was through Lucretia M. Smith, daughter of Amanda Marshall, that I received the information I had been looking for: (the names of my great grandparents, John and Isabel Campbell.)
My FATHER James McGinley Campbell, was born January 28, 1843, at Fannettsburg, Pa. He died November 3, 1919. He was married to Harriet Jane Huston, November 21, 1872, by Rev. Thomas M. Walker, minister of the Fountain Green Presbyterian Church for many years. Harriet Jane Huston was born October 7, 1852 and died February 17, 1942. Nine children were born to this union:
The Campbells moved to Illinois when Father was ten years of age and grew up to manhood on the eighty acre farm that has been referred to as the Hickory Grove farm. It was half-way between Fountain Green and La Harp, Ill. The Civil War came on, and my father at the age of nineteen enlisted by taking a silver dollar off the head of a drum. He enlisted as drummer boy, but since the Officers, Flag Bearers and Drummers were elected by the Company, he was defeated for drummer. He then was given a bugle by the captain and told to practice up out in the timber. After one day he came back and gave the Captain the bugle and told him to give him a musket, and this he carried for the duration of the War.
He was made a Corporal of Company A., 118th Regiment, Illinois Voluntary Infantry. This Regiment was assigned to the Mississippi Patrol under Gen. U. S. Grant and my father took part in the capture of Vicksburg after which his company became mounted infantry and was assigned to raiding expeditions in Louisiana and up the Red River.
At the close of the War between the States, he was mustered out of the service on the 1st day of October, 1865, at Baton Rouge, La., and the certificate was signed by Captain Cyrus M. Geddis of Fountain Green, Ill., who later married my wife's aunt, Melissa Marshall, at the old Marshall homestead in Montebello Township, Hancock Co., Ill. Aside from his military service, my father was a natural musician. Besides the drum which he loved best, he played the violin, church organ, was choir leader and was always in demand in most any musical capacity.
My father was now no longer a farmer as listed on his mustering out papers, but clerked in a store in Fountain Green, where the first three children were born as listed above.
When I was one year old, my parents decided to go west where they could get cheaper land. My father bought a relinquishment of 160 acres. He loaded a railroad car with some machinery and horses, and my parents, with my brother Wilson and myself, went to Nebraska near Hastings. The land was in prairie sod, which my father broke out. My mother was sick much of the time, as the climate was rather rugged and the wind blew constantly.
So, on account of my mother's physical condition, they sold the land and moved back to Illinois. They bought the David McKnight eighty acres, one mile northwest of Elvaston, Montebello Township, Hancock County. This joined the Malachi Richardson eighty on the east. Father paid $2700.00 for this land, and afterward bought forty acres joining on the east side of the eighty from John Lively, owner of a quarter section. For this he paid $1600.00. There was no contract of sale or mortgage agreement, only a promissory note by my father to John Lively, and when my father made a payment of money to liquidate the note, credit was made on the back of the note for the amount paid. This was a far cry from the method of today where abstracts, contracts, mortgages and assignments of insurance are in vogue.
My father and mother started their married life with practically nothing, as many another couple have done, and while they were not rich in this world's goods, they hated debt and paid for everything they bought when they bought it. They have passed on to their Eternal Reward and their children cherish their memory as something not easily forgotten.
Herbert Lynn Campbell, Author
I, Herbert Lynn Campbell, was born February 17, 1877. Dr. Leonard L. Ferris was the officiating physician and his wife gave me my first bath. All of this took place at Fountain Green, in Hancock County, Illinois, and much of this narrative will have to do with this small village, twelve miles from the nearest railroad. My paternal ancestry and maternal ancestry took place in the Fountain Green area. My mother's maiden name was Harriet Jane Huston, born October 7, 1852, near Fountain Green, Ill. My father's name was James McGinley Campbell, who was born at Fannettsburg, Pennsylvania, January 28, 1843.
I suppose I was a normal child during babyhood. I have a small picture taken when I was three months old, and it appears as if I was a normal healthy baby. My mother said that I did not learn to talk as soon as they thought I should have. But then as I grew older I was extremely bashful, which accounted for me not talking as soon as my brothers and sisters. This picture shows me as being round faced and a sparse amount of hair. In later life, one cannot tell if I ever had any hair. As I grew up, I showed a heavy crop of auburn red hair and a sprinkling of freckles across my nose and face.
Like most babies, I grew up into a healthy youngster, and at the age of six, I followed my brother Wilson to the Number 9 School, or as some called it, the Hyndman School. There was four year's difference in our ages. A girl Anna Gertrude, had died in infancy, and she was born between us. I am much indebted to my older brother for letting me follow him around because I was able to go places and to mingle with associates that were all older than I.
One day as we trudged one and one-half miles to school, sometimes through the snow, we were late. We took our seat which was in the back row of seats. On the girl's side, one of the girls had been occupying the seat alone, but on this particular morning, a young girl of about my age, was sitting, studying her lesson and swinging her feet back and forth, since they could not touch the floor.
I was intrigued with her personality and stared across at her during much of the day, being a detriment to my lessons. It turned out that we were in the same classes, along with another girl, older than either of us, named Margaret Arthurs, and nicknamed "Tip". We three were in the same classes for a long time. On Friday afternoons, it was the custom to have literary exercises. This girl that intrigued me so much on that first day had black hair and brown eyes. Her name was Ruby Alice Marshall. On the Friday afternoons, we would choose up and spell down. Any one who ever went to the one room country school of that period will know what I mean. At other times, each scholar was required to give a recitation. That is where Ruby Alice Marshall would shine as she gave long recitations and never forgot, and her father usually came on the Fridays when she was going to speak and he was very proud and fond of her.
From the first day that Ruby Marshall started to Number 9 school, some of the older boys began to tease me about her and would write our names on the blackboard, on the coal house, side of the school house and thus made me mad because they could see that I had a "liking" for her, even though perhaps, she paid no attention to me. Andrew Hastings, nicknamed "Tobe", and Bill Puntenney were the worst and they liked to get me mad, and they told me after we had grown up that I would say, "Now, Tobe Hastings and Bill Puntenney, you let me be." But I survived their taunts.
One of my experiences at No. 9 was a bully that was inclined to pick a fight with me. It got to be an every day occurrence and, I never ran, but we were "nip and tuck." One day, he drew a knife and made a pass at me striking on top of my right shoulder, the point of the knife barely touching the skin. The authorities took over and there were no more fights.
I attended No. 9 until I was fourteen or fifteen, when I changed to the Elvaston school for a couple of years. After this, I went to Bushnell to a Normal School and fitted myself to teach. During those 'teen age years, I was dating Ruby Marshall. She was also dating other fellows. On Sunday night, the boys would line up at the back of the church after services were over, and when the right girl came along, her beaux would step up and walk with her. One Sunday night, I was posted down near the door, and another guy being back farther walked away with my girl. I stopped that by dating her to take her to church as a steady. Thus, that is the way our courtship began in earnest. One time, the girls of the set that we went around with planned a surprise on their dates. When we went out of church down to the front of the church, the boys would go for their horse and buggy. The plan was to switch their dates, getting into a different buggy unnoticed. A little bird gave it away, but the boys cooperated and did not let on.
During the summers, before I went to Bushnell, we three boys, Wilson, Orr and I, would sometimes work for some of the neighbors in harvest or when the Spring work began. Wilson had gone away to different schools, so he did not work for the neighbors as much. Orr and I each helped a neighbor, Fred Wagner, at different times. I also worked for the Puntenneys, on occasion.
One harvest, I was derrick boy at Sam Hyndman's. I asked Mr. Hyndman for the name of the derrick horse. He replied, "Her name is Sal, but you can call her Ruby if you want".
When Wilson left home for school, it was up to me to help get the corn out before I could start in at Bushnell, as I was going to stay until school closed in the next summer.
My roommate the first year was a Frank Durand who had worked for Harvey Marshall. We did not get along too well the first year. One time, he threw my shoes out of the window, and as I had only one pair, I had to go down on to the campus in my stocking feet.
The next year, I roomed out in town at a home and had for a roommate Levi Leonard from Pekin, east of Peoria a ways. He was a nice fellow and we got along fine.
Levi Leonard had a girl a short ways from where we roomed. The girl's name was King, and she had a sister who tried to get Levi to bring that boy with the pretty brown eyes along. But I never went.
I never allowed anything to interfere with my studies as I realized my limitations in being able to grasp a subject as readily as some. Therefore, when I was not in my room, I was either at class or lunch. They had a dining hall and my board was only $1.75 per week. I have forgotten the amount of the tuition, but in those days, a dollar went further. They had a football team and they wanted me to go out and practice as an extra. One time was once too much. I was to make a block. I stood up pretty straight and a player hit me in the stomach with his head. It liked to have knocked the wind out of me and took away my desire for that kind of sport.
The only other sport that I took part in was at the noon hour; some of the boys would practice broad jumping in the front of the Dining Hall. I was able eventually to jump twenty-one feet, which was considered good. There were some who could even surpass this.
There were four Campbells, three boys and one girl, in the school. Our history teacher was Mr. Dunlevy. When he put a question to one of us, he would say, "Campbell", pause and then say, "H.L." or "C.W." or "C.K." or "Miss".
After my two years at Bushnell, I took an examination at Carthage, Hancock Co., Ill., for a second grade certificate, which I passed and was employed to teach at the Tranquillity School, one and one-half miles from home and two miles south of No. 9 school, where I first had started to school. The terms were divided Spring and Winter. I received $25.00 for the Spring terms. I taught two of these and three Winter terms for which I received $35.00.
I was not rehired for the Spring term following the last Winter term because one of the Directors thought that his young daughter, who had started to me in her first year, would do better under a lady teacher. So I stepped aside, and the young lady they had hired had not taken the examination. She failed and had to take it over twice.
A short time later, a Real Estate man stopped at our home. He had come from Ft. Scott, Kansas. An uncle of mine, "Uncle Ed Huston", had told him that I had been talking of going West. Well, I decided to go. The Railroads were taking land seekers and anyone who wanted to avail themselves of the cut rate fare, of one way fare plus $2.00, could make the round trip. We had to go to Burlington, Iowa, to get our tickets from the Gen. Passenger Agent. The result was that W. C. Gunn company of Fort Scott, Kansas, employed me to work up prospects and in connection with C. A. Wood, a company man, try to locate them somewhere in southeast Kansas. In Eldorado, Kansas, the company man was W. C. Turner.
Well, the net result of all this, we located several families on a trade basis on some; on some, cash; and on others, various terms. This turned out to be unsatisfactory because of its being too long between drinks; so I put up signs to sell real estate on my own. I made several deals, which was better than I had been doing for W. C. Gunn Co. In the meantime, the great event of my life had taken place on Valentines Day, 1900, which as I am writing this, is the 58th Anniversary of my marriage to the only girl I had ever loved, "Ruby Alice Marshall".
We went to housekeeping in Elvaston, Ill., in a little house with two small bedrooms, living room and kitchen. We were supremely happy.
One day, my wife's Uncle, John Marshall, came from Monmouth, Ill. They had moved there from their farm, three miles north of Elvaston, Ill. The road from Elvaston to this farm went by the Harvey Marshall farm. The gist of all this is to the effect that Uncle John had come down from Monmouth to see about renting his farm consisting of two hundred forty acres, as the present tenant, Henry Voightlander, had said that he was giving it up. This suited Uncle John, as he did not think that he was getting a square deal. He offered it to me and my dear wife and said that we could have it as long as we wanted it. I didn't give him an answer that day, but told him we would talk it over, and let him know the next day. This is a practice that we have always followed, to talk it over. He came back the next day, and we had decided to try it. One remark by my wife was the deciding factor, "It would give us a chance to accumulate," which turned out to be true.
Uncle John had left some machinery on the place, and by filling in the necessary pieces at sales, and some horses, we were ready to go. I already had my own driving horse and Father Campbell gave us a horse and a cow. My wife's father did the same, and this then left us three horses to buy.
The day that Uncle John was at our house, when we gave him the answer that we would take the farm; I had been successful in selling the quarter section of land directly south across the road from where my father lived to Henry Thomas, whose land joined some of Uncle John's farm, and that deal helped me to buy some cheap horses. So, we were on our way.
Our oldest son, Ronald Marshall Campbell, was born on the 13th of January, 1901, in the little four room cottage, while we were yet living in Elvaston. The other three children were born as follows: James Franklin January 17, 1903, Donovan Lynn. September 20, 1904 and Dorothy May, March 16th, 1908.
It turned out the way my dear wife advised at the start, when we discussed the advisability of accepting Uncle John's offer to rent us the farm. We did accumulate, but rather slowly. The thing that helped us the most was the bumper crop we raised the first year, which set us up in being able to buy the things that we needed most for the house and farm. The ground was in perfect shape and we could have farmed with a crooked stick. We had six horses which gave the hired man and myself three horses each, hitched to a 16 inch walking plow. When we had enough ground plowed, Ernest Allison, the hand, put four of the horses onto a harrow, and this left me two horses with which to plant the corn.
And so we went on down the line, through the good years and the lean years until the Influenza Epidemic of 1917, that took our first-born on December 6th, 1918. We were grief stricken. The T. B. bug had gotten into the family and Wilson, the oldest of my brothers and sisters, died on September 12th, 1919. I had been diagnosed as having symptoms. We decided that we would not stay in Illinois, where it was cold and damp, and where the Tubercular Bacilli thrived. So we made our plans to go Southwest, where the climatic conditions were more conducive to burning out the bacilli, if we had any.
We made a Sale in January, 1920, and rented the Ruddell house in Elvaston, and moved as soon as possible after the sale. We were successful in selling Uncle John's farm for $55,000 to the Metternichs, $25,000 down, and $30,000 being carried back for five years. Later we learned that at this time the Metternichs paid the balance.
After we had moved into the Ruddell house in Elvaston, we began making plans to go West. Much of this time I would take spells of lassitude, and have to go to bed. We had to have a car large enough and suitable for carrying luggage. We had decided to camp; so the car would have to be made suitable for carrying all of the camping equipment and luggage.
We decided on a seven passenger Buick, Model K-49, and which we purchased from Henry Rams and Edgar Burner, Buick agents in Carthage, six miles from Elvaston. This being after the first World War, cars were hard to get, and we had to get our order in early and take our turn, as all cars were rationed. The dealers we were contacting put in our order, and were given a number which foretold the order of their delivery. This made us uneasy for fear that we would not receive delivery until late summer. But our fears were allayed when we received word that we were to be at Flint, Michigan, on a certain day.
Edgar Burner, his wife and I went by train and were at the factory on the appointed day. Edgar went to the offices, presented his number, paid for the car, and we then waited out at the end of the assembly line for the car with our number. We got in and drove to the nearest filling station to fill with gasoline, as the Buick people had put in only enough gas to get away from the ground. The car had cost me $2160.00.
We arrived home without incident, where I bought an extra tire, thus giving us two spares. We also bought a wall tent which could be staked out on the right side of the car. There was a flap that could be stretched over the top, covering the opposite side, and was to be tied to the wheels. This then enclosed the car, making it a part of the tent, especially valuable in case it rained. We also made boxes to fit on each running board. That on the driver's side was high, and no one could get out on this side, but on the other side the car doors would open over the box. We carried the tent on the top of the two spare tires with two web straps. This made it necessary to fold the tent carefully, in order that a small bundle would result.
We became expert at breaking camp. There was a small gasoline stove with an oven that could be set over the blaze. I took on the job of making muffins, and I could get them just right. At first we would stop at noon and cook our dinner, but we soon found out that we lost too much time getting the utensils out and put away; so we made sandwiches and ate canned food such as pork and beans at noon. By the time we had traveled out to California and back to Oklahoma, I hated the sight of a Pork and Beans can.
We said good-bye to Illinois June 10th, 1920. It was hard on my mother to see us go, as my father had passed away, November 3rd, 1919, and brother Wilson on September 12th of that same year.
We stopped at my brother Ray's in Kansas City, and went out to Park College, which was across the Missouri River, and made plans for our son Franklin to matriculate at the beginning of the Fall term. We then went to El Dorado, Kansas, and stopped at my wife's Aunt Melissa Geddes, who was mentioned by my wife in her paternal ancestry. From El Dorado, we drove to Oklahoma City, where Uncle John Marshall had moved soon after he had rented us his farm north of Elvaston.
I was compelled to go to bed for two or three days at Uncle John's, but we were soon on our way via Lawton, Oklahoma, where Ernest and Lulu Kirkpatrick lived. Lulu was a cousin of my wife. Again I took to bed from what seemed to be exhaustion, but not for long, as we knew we had to get to our unknown destination in order that Donovan and Dorothy could enter school in September.
After we left Lawton, we passed through Altus and Hollis in Okla. and entered Texas at Childress also passed through Clarendon, Goodnight and Claude. We spent the night at Goodnight, which is a small town that took its name from a man of that name. He maintained a herd of buffalo on several hundred acres of land enclosed for that purpose. One thing which I will never forget is how the wind blew that night in Goodnight. We feared that it would blow our tent away.
At the little town of Claude, there lived a Mr. and Mrs. Crisp, whom we afterward met at Roswell. They had come for the purpose of drinking the sulfur water that flowed from deep wells in the hopes of helping a kidney ailment. He was always talking about his "calves" and feeding them "cake". The word calf he pronounced with a broad "a" sound and it sounded funny to us at the time. After they left, we would try to mimic him. We arrived at Amarillo during the noon hour and found it very hot for its elevation of 4000 feet. You will notice that we did not drive very far in one day, and this was because there was not paving and the roads were very rough. One of the natural phenomena of that country which was new to us was the mirage. It would appear as if we were approaching a body of water, and all of the time cattle would be out in the water, eating their grass.
After leaving Amarillo, we went toward Hereford. This is noted because of the fluorine in its water which protects against tooth decay. We started looking for water in order to camp nearby. And lo' and behold, we turned our eyes to the left and beheld a windmill and a large stock tank full of water. There was a board corral facing the south to protect us from the south wind, which at that time was blowing rather briskly. We were surprised to find a gate which let to the protection of this high fence. This was welcome protection also when we started up our gasoline stove. We spent the night there in comparative peace and quiet, and proceeded the next day to Clovis and Roswell in New Mexico.
We spent several days at Roswell. There was a Military Academy there which interested Franklin. There were also wonderful flowing sulfur wells. People had set out fruit trees, thinking they could irrigate, but soon found too much sulfur content for growth. The water at the spillways would build up large deposits of sulfur, and it was this medicinal property which brought our friends to Roswell.
We then went to Honda, straight west of Roswell for twenty-five miles, after which we followed the Ruidosa Creek to the Mescalero Indian Reservation, where we camped for the night. It was cold, and those sleeping on cots had to get down on the ground and roll in their blankets. There was a flume with water, which was used to float logs down from somewhere above. Franklin got up early the next morning and caught a rainbow trout, small but good.
This was interesting country and the Lincoln National Forest was very picturesque. The Rand-McNally road map of the 48 states of today shows a main highway to Tularosa, but the road that we took went through the Lincoln National Forest and then to Alamogordo, a city of about 4000. The White Sands Proving Grounds and Monument is now government owned, but at the time we saw this area, there was nothing but a vast expanse of white sand. The Sacramento Mountains lay to the east of Alamogordo, and a summer resort called Cloudcroft was located high up in these mountains.
We stayed in Alamogordo three or four days and looked at houses, as there seemed to be much activity in the town, but as it was the tourist season, we decided to move on. We came straight to El Paso, and here my wife remembered that here lived the widow of Sam Hastings. Sam was a brother of Tobe, and also went to the old No. 9 school. Sam had contracted Tuberculosis and died. His mother, Tobe and two of their sisters all died of the same disease. Sam and his wife had a daughter named Samuela. The only one we were able to see was Sam's wife. We did not go across the river to Juarez, as we were advised that it was not safe. The worst part of this side trip to El Paso occurred when we camped too close to the Rio Grande River and the mosquitoes literally pock marked the children's faces at night while they slept.
It turned out that we had lost time in El Paso. So, we started out by way of Las Cruces, Deming, Lordsburg, Bowie, Cochise, Benson into Tucson. And was it hot. We arrived in Tucson at noon and pulled under the first shade tree that we encountered. That was one thing that we learned in Arizona. If you are in the shade, you are cool. We proceeded on our journey by way of Florence, where the State Penitentiary is located, to Mesa, where the Mormons had a large church. They have erected a temple somewhat like the one in Utah. Phoenix was the next stop, and the Chamber of Commerce was contacted in regard to housing. They told us that there was nothing to be had in Phoenix, and suggested that we go to Glendale, a city of about three thousand situated nine miles to the northwest of Phoenix.
We could not get a house there immediately, but were promised one in about two weeks. So, we camped in Palm Lane, where the neighbors were kind enough to let us use their water and toilet facilities until we were able to get possession of a house. Mr. Jeriah Wood promised this house for $25.00 a month.
We had good neighbors in Palm Lane. It was called this because of large palm trees lining each side of the road. When we first drove down this street, we came close to a corner where two women were talking over the fence. We thought that this would be a good time to get some information and stopped to inquire if they knew of any houses for rent. They said, "No". We explained that we had driven from Illinois and it was getting close to the time for the children to start to school. We guessed that we would have to find someplace to set up our tent until we could find some suitable place in which to move. They both exclaimed that we need go no farther but to pull over to the side of the road and that we were welcome to all their conveniences, as I have already stated.
The house we finally rented was one central room, longways of the house with a porch the same length, on each side of the house. We slept on one side and cooked and ate on the other side of the house. The house was set on blocks, so that when they irrigated, the water could run under the house, without obstructing its course.
The names of the neighbors who were most helpful to us were Mr. and Mrs. U. P. Thomas, Mr. and Mrs. John Eberle, and Mr. and Mrs. Bob Barker, and Jeriah Wood, a bachelor who owned the house in which we lived. Mrs. Barker and Mr. Wood passed away several years ago; Mrs. Thomas was in a car wreck three years ago and died. John Eberle passed away last summer. The Eberles had lived at Alta Vista, Kansas, where he ran a General Store. They had a boy, Cecil, whose asthma was the reason that they came to Arizona, hoping it would help him. They finally gave it up and went back to Alta Vista. Cecil grew to manhood, outgrew his asthma, married and is robust today. He is now living at Newton, Kansas, and this is also where his mother lives.
We were now ready to leave Glendale, Arizona, where we had spent the winter of 1920-21. It was June and the children who had gone to school in Glendale had finished the school, and we had decided that we didn't want to make Arizona our permanent home. When we came to Glendale, we had had to buy a certain amount of second hand furniture, such as a stove, a bed, and items that were not expensive. We did this because we were doubtful that we would make this our permanent home.
The Salt River Valley, so named because of the Salt River which traversed its entire length, was irrigated from the Roosevelt Dam which backed the water up in the mountains. Ditches conveyed the water across the valley when the gates were opened. In hot weather, this irrigation caused a certain amount of humidity. Another objectionable feature was the difference in temperature between day and night. It was always necessary to wear clothing which could be discarded during the day.
We also missed the fact that there was no Presbyterian Church in Glendale. We went to the Methodist Church and thoroughly enjoyed Dr. and Mrs. Ferris while they were there. They later moved to California to seek a better climate.
We had disposed of all second hand material that we had purchased by selling it back to the same second hand store. We drove on the road going north through Peoria and on to Wickenburg, where we turned west. Had we gone on straight north, it would have taken us to Prescott of 4000 feet elevation. Down in the valley, the elevation was only about 1200 feet. Arizona had the reputation of having the hottest climate (at Yuma) and the coldest (at Flagstaff), where it had an elevation of 7000 feet.
So we proceeded west, intending to cross the Colorado River at Blythe. We, however, stopped at Salome, which was a short distance from the river. It was hot and sultry and I think we suffered from the heat here than at any time. We drank cold drinks, but nothing seemed to cool us. The next day we crossed the Colorado on a pontoon which was pulled across the river, a distance of about fifty feet. The man said, "One dollar, please".
When we reached California, we drove over a desert trail to a place called Miligan's Well and which had an overhead tank. I don't remember of a railroad for which the tank had been built along with its well, as there were no houses visible. Before arriving at this place, our car began giving us trouble. It would die as if it was out of gasoline. The car had the old style vacuum feed to suck the gas from the tank to the carburetor. We would let it stand a little bit and it would start, run a short distance and again die. A car came along while we stopped and inquired about our trouble. While we tinkered with it, it started, so they, thinking our troubles were over, went on and were out of sight when it again stopped.
We had stayed over night at Miligan's Wells. In looking at a map of today I cannot see any road leading to Amboy, but that is where we pulled into a garage to see if they could cure our trouble. Now, Amboy is on the main line road from Needles on the Colorado River, north of Blythe, and the road today would take you straight into Los Angeles from Miligan's Wells. Our trouble was remedied, and we stayed the next night at Barstow, and the next day onto the road to Los Angelos.
In those days, people dreaded to cross the desert in order to reach the west coast. Today, with paved roads, they can cross in a few hours. About noon, we were descending the Cajon Pass. About midway down, there was a picnic area with cold water flowing. It was nice and cool and the birds were singing, and after traveling on the desert for three days, this seemed like a veritable paradise.
We were able to get to Pasadena and went out Colorado Blvd., and had intended to go to Glendale, but when we found Brookside Park, we decided to avail ourselves of its conveniences. This park was where the bridge crossed Brookside Canyon. One of the conveniences that we liked was a Camp House, where for a quarter we could cook some items and have hot coffee. When we wanted to leave the camp for a day, we could pile our belongings that we did not want to carry around on the ground and let the tent down over them. We could do this because the ground was patrolled and we had no fear of them being molested.
When we left Illinois, we knew that Uncle Frank and Aunt Sarah Huston had gone to California for their health. When we left Arizona, we were looking forward to seeing them. They were looking for us when we drove to their address. It was through them that we found out about a former minister of our church in Elvaston, Ill., who was living in Glendale. Later, Dr. and Mrs. J. N. Leonard entertained us as well as Uncle Frank and Aunt Sarah. There was a country store at Glendale that was for sale, and Uncle Frank thought that I should buy it. But since I was a country boy and timid, I was afraid that I might make a flop and lose some money. We, along with Uncle Frank and Aunt Sarah and my wife's sister, Mabel, made plans to travel up the San Joaquin Valley to Yosemite National Park and over to Berkley and Oakland. This we did and crossed the Bay to the foot of famous Market Street. The University of California is located at Berkeley, and we were privileged to go up in a tower on the grounds where we had a wonderful view of the Bay, San Francisco and surrounding country. We ferried across the Bay, not too far from San Quentin Penitentiary, which is located on an impregnable rock in the Bay.
Before we took this part of our trip, we had taken the road from Merced to the Yosemite. When we arrived at the road which takes down to the floor of the valley, we found that the road was operated by controls which permitted traffic to go down on the hour and up on the half-hour. The floor of the valley was a picnic area. There were two water falls, one above the other. This water fall came off of a high mountain in the picnic area and it was refreshing to lie down and drink this cold clear water. The floor of the valley is 4000 feet above sea level. We took a road that led us to the Mariposa Grove, up a steep and dangerous road. There were little white flowers, coming up through the snow which lay deep along the roadside. Deer crossed the road in front of our car, unafraid because this was a National Park and Forest. At the summit of Mariposa Grove was a ledge, where one could look to the floor below. A sign posted on this ledge said, "4000 Ft. to the floor of Yosemite and no undertaker there to meet you". We obeyed the sign.
The huge trees in Mariposa Grove were large beyond belief. We saw some of these fallen monsters. Advertising literature showed a four horse team, standing abreast, crossways of one of these trees. Now, this is something I can vouch for. A huge standing tree had been hollowed out so that an automobile could drive through it. We have a picture of our car and occupants taken by a photographer as we went through. We have the picture. Believe it or not.
We went out of the valley of Yosemite on the opposite side, on the Oak Flat road which took us to Oakland and San Francisco. It was then about July First. We drove through Chinatown, then up to the highest point of the City, Sunset Heights, where we had a splendid view of the Pacific Ocean and the Golden Gate. The Presidio was located on the bluff at the entrance of the Golden Gate Harbor. The word "Presidio" means a Spanish Garrison Guard and there are only two in the United States. The unit here has an area of 1500 acres, while the Presidio of Monterey, California, is much smaller. We stayed all night at a park where tourists could camp. It was foggy and cold, and we almost froze, even in our topcoats. One interesting spectacle that we noted in this camping grounds was a car with a crate on the side in which they carried a goat. They probably had a baby or someone who had to have goat milk. They claim it is more easily digested than cow's milk. There is now a new suspension bridge across the Golden Gate going to the north.
We left San Francisco on Highway No. 101, as it is marked today, but in 1921 it was known as the El Camino Real Highway. This took us through Palo Alto, where the Leland Stanford University is located. We had a good look at the grounds and buildings. It was on this stretch of road that we had two blowouts. This was in the Santa Clara Valley. It was terribly hot, and our heavy load as well as the heat caused the blowouts, and this left us without a spare tire. I was able to catch a ride into the next town, and the only tire I could find was a Samson. I had never heard of the brand, but the salesman assured me that it would fit. He brought me back to the car and mounted the tire on the rim, but with difficulty. Later, we also had difficulty in mounting this particular tire on the rim. It had cost me $50.00.
Tires and gasoline were outrageously high after World War I, and in some places in California we paid fifty cents for gas. This highway passed through San Jose, which Uncle Frank called San Jo-se, just as it is spelled. At San Louis Obispo there was a monastery, which we saw through, and that night slept on the beach of the Pacific Ocean. We listened to waves break on the shore at Santa Barbara, which is not too far from Los Angeles. Santa Barbara is noted for its English Walnuts.
We did not want to leave California until we had seen San Diego. We had heard that it was noted for its annual temperature of 65 degrees. So, we proceeded through Los Angeles, through Santa Anna, on the No. 101 Highway (as marked today). We had previously seen Santa Monica, Hollywood, and Long Beach. After we had left Santa Anna, we visited a Mission, San Juan Capistrano, which was similar to others that we had visited. We spent the night at Oceanside, July 4th, and they were putting on a celebration of fireworks for our entertainment; so we said. We proceeded on toward San Diego, but made a stop at La Jolla (J sound of H). This was a small place which was noted as a place for people to retire. There was a sheltered cove where the Pacific Ocean was protected from the cold air, allowing the sun to warm the water to a delightful warmth.
The next place of interest was a military post on a point of land jutting out into the Pacific. Since I am writing from memory, I cannot give the name of this post. I do remember that we took a short ride on the Pacific in a yacht which circles out near the point of this Army establishment. This took place on San Diego Bay where we went past the U.S. Navy Fleet, which to us seemed quite large. The island of Coronado was very close to the mainland and connected to it by a walk of some kind, either board or Masonry, I cannot remember which. I remember that there was a beautiful organ which was played at noontime, and people would come at that time to hear the beautiful music. I believe, though that the organ was not on the island but further out from the mainland.
The next place of interest was Salome's Wishing Well, located at the eastern edge of San Diego. It is a real well, walled up, with a pulley and bucket. One could drink of the water, after making a wish, and through some mystical power, it would come true.
We did not want to return home, which we had decided would be Oklahoma City, without visiting Mexico, and this opportunity came when we were opposite Tia Juana. We made the journey south from San Diego, and on crossing the border the Customs Authorities inspected our car and luggage. We had a 22 caliber rifle which we had carried all the way from Illinois, and this was submitted to inspection. Tia Juana was nothing more than dance halls, saloons and in general was made up of shacks, at that time thirty-seven years ago. We were careful not to get separated, and also careful not to get in a gambling joint, where we could have been separated from our wallets.
We made our way back through San Diego on our return to our new home, and as we had dropped Uncle Frank and Aunt Sarah off at Los Angeles after our trip to Yosemite and San Francisco, we chose a route #395 of today, which took us through Riverside, and on to San Bernardino, which connected with Cajon Pass. (Riverside was to be recalled later, when our son Donovan came here to take Flying. This was after he had graduated from College.)
We left Route #395 after we had gotten up Cajon Pass, and followed Route 66 of today to Barstow, where we spent part of the night. We remembered the intense heat we had suffered crossing the desert from the east; so we resolved that we would spend a part of the night traveling. Accordingly, we broke camp about 3 or 4 o'clock in the morning, and started toward Needles on #66. This took us through Amboy, which we remembered because of our experience with our vacuum tank while coming west. To our amazement it had rained ahead of us, and we made the trip to Needles in comparative comfort.
We did not cross the river (Colorado River) at Needles, but had to go down the river about 14 miles to cross the bridge at Topock. Here we entered Arizona and continued on No. 66. We left an elevation of 3300 feet out of Kingman to cross a range of 6700 feet and camped at a lower elevation. The next day, we continued on to Ashfork, where the Santa Fe R. R. operated a dining room, on to Williams, where the road led off to the Grand Canyon, and then on to Flagstaff, which has en elevation of approximately 7000 ft. We camped here for several days as this was convenient to places of interest. We camped in a sheltered place close to Lowell Observatory, where there is a large telescope to observe the planetary system of the Heavens. Every evening about four o'clock, it began to get cold, and as there was plenty of firewood, we were able to keep warm. Many other people took advantage of these free facilities.
South of Flagstaff, there were ruins of the pre-historic race of Cliff Dwellers. Ladders were used to go up to their homes on the side of the cliff. They were built up three or four rooms high, each room a separate dwelling. A Normal College was located in Flagstaff, and here we visited with the Mcruers. The had been the principals of the schools attended in Glendale by Donovan and Dorothy.
We realized that we might never be so near the Grand Canyon again; so we made plans to go. On information that we received, we planned our trip by way of Sunset Crater and the Ice Caves. The former was an extinct volcano, and its sides were covered with ashes and lava. People that had tried to climb it had found it difficult, as for each step forward, one would slip back two. We passed by the Painted Desert. We saw an observation tower which was used by Forest Rangers to spot fires. We arrived at the east end of the canyon called Grand View just as the sun was sinking in the west, and could not have observed the canyon at a better time. The colors on the opposite canyon wall presented ever changing hue and coloring. A Forest Ranger and his family lived in a cabin back from the rim of the canyon among some beautiful trees and well kept grounds. Not a stick or twig remained for us to start a fire; so we used our camp stove. The Ranger had a trash barrel and requested that everyone use it.
The next day, we started down the road along the rim to Observation Point. Here there was a house on the rim and horses available for anyone wanting to make the trip down Bright Angel Trail. Anyone making the trip had to remain overnight. This fact that it would require too much time, plus the expense made us pass up this trip. We could look down at certain points and see the Colorado River. Even though it was 4000 feet down, it looked as if one could step across it. So we ambled on leisurely, content to view the beauties from its rim, until we came to the road which led us out to Williams. We had seen the Grand Canyon, said to be the "World's Greatest Spectacle."
We proceeded on our way, following Highway No. 66 as of today, through Winslow and Holbrook, where another great wonder greeted our eyes, "the Petrified Forest". We could not resist the temptation to gather up some small pieces, which we kept for a long time, being of no particular use except to remind us of the Petrified Forest. We left No. 66, and dropped south to pick up No. 60. The former road went north to Gallop and Albuquerque. Our new highway went through St. Johns, Springerville, Magdalena and Socorro, where we crossed the Rio Grande River. This brought us into New Mexico, where we crossed the Continental Divide at Mountainaire, then on to Vaughn, Fort Sumner and Clovis. The trip across New Mexico was a muddy trip, as it rained every day. Our tires were becoming worn, and to protect them we put on some oversize casings which we held in place with our chains. The chains were necessary because of the mud. At Clovis, as I remember it, the rains had stopped; so we removed the chains and the old casings and had the car washed. It certainly was a sight.
We crossed over into Texas and went to Plainview, which is south of Amarillo but still on the Cap Rock, to see Jim Boswell and his wife, whom we had known in Glendale, Arizona. They had been in Glendale because she had Tuberculosis. She was a pretty woman and we liked them very much, but one could see that she was losing the battle when they decided to come home to Plainview. We were sorry to see that she had failed still more. Later, we corresponded with them until he wrote that she had passed away.
We came down off of the Cap Rock, traveling again the road which we had used from Lawton, Okla., and where we spent the night. Ernest and Lulu were glad to see us, and remarked about how much better I looked than when we were through there a year before, and when I had had to spend some time in bed. I was tanned and had a healthy color, and I felt well. The open air, camping and sleeping out had done the trick, and my lassitude was all gone. We then drove into Oklahoma City, which was to be our home for 25 years.
We stayed at Uncle John's for three or four days, and then rented some furnished rooms on 9th. Street in the 400 block. Uncle John lived in this block but on 10th. Street. It was August and very hot. We paid $48.00 a month for rooms that were infested with cockroaches. We had an ice box, for which we bought ice, and when the door was opened, the roaches would run in all directions.
This increased our desire for a house of our own. This took some time, since I wanted a cellar and a cistern as we had in the North. Very few houses had either of these. Nearly everyone in Illinois had basements under the better improved homes. My father-in-law had a cistern which collected water from the roof and a filter of coarse gravel and charcoal to keep dirt from the roof from going into the cistern. I was soon advised that many cisterns would not hold water and that this was because of the character of the soil, which would expand and contract with wet and dry weather, thus causing the cistern to crack. Another complication was that composition roofs, which were advisable due to the hot summers, would leave a taste to the water. Jessie Marshall, who was the wife of Clede Marshall, son of Uncle John, afterwards liked to tease me about my boast that I would not buy a house without a basement or a cistern. So, we gave up the idea of a home with a basement and a cistern.
Ike Harrell, husband of Alta Hastings Harrell, worked for a Real Estate firm, and Alta being a cousin to my wife, I felt under obligation to look at what he had to sell. A home was in the course of construction at 2031 NW 16th. Street. This house was in McKinley Place Addition, and this addition was plated in a peculiar way. It consisted of just one block. All four corners were round and tapered back to a point and the lots on either side of the corner lots had one tapered side and one straight side with a large front. The lot with the house that we later purchased had straight sides but only thirty-seven and one-half foot frontage. It made room for a driveway leading back to the garage, but made the line and the west side of the house extremely close. Later, the City built a Fire Station on the southwest corner lot leaving only the lot between our house and the Fire Station with a straight line on our side and the line next to the Fire Station angling back to a point. This lot remained vacant for years, a fact which with the narrowness of our lot made our house very difficult to sell.
The house had an attractive front with porch across the entire front of the house and facing south. It had a knocked down ridge comb. It had three bed rooms on the east. The front room with a south and east exposure was intended as a music room, but we used it as Dorothy's bedroom. Franklin and Donovan's bedroom was in the middle, while mother and I had the back bedroom. The back bedrooms had no closets. Dorothy's bedroom had a closet. The living room, dining room and kitchen were all on the west side of the house. There were double French doors between the living room and the dining room, and a door opened off the dining room into a hall which gave access to the two bedrooms at the back and the bath. A linen closet was next the bath with another closet at the end of the hall. I wonder as I write this why I have gone into so much detail. Well, it was the first house we had owned and we thought it had so many advantages over the house we lived in on Uncle John's farm that it looked very good to us.
Mother liked the sink in the kitchen because it was lower than most, and the double windows over the sink were low enough for vision. She also liked the cabinets on either side of the sink. There was a back porch without windows, but in which I installed sash later. The front room had a mantel over the fireplace, which had a gas outlet. There was a bookcase on one side of the mantel and a desk built in the other space. The living room had triple windows and a French style door which let onto the porch. The book cases had French style glass doors and were about four feet high.
We paid $5600.00 under contract for the house to be finished according to specifications. The name of the contractor was L. A. Cannon and it was weeks after we moved in before the mantel, bookcase and the desk were finished. He came to me a number of times for more money but I stood pat until he had completed everything according to contract.
In the meantime, Franklin had matriculated in Oklahoma City College, which was being started in two apartment houses at the corner of Walnut and 12th. Street. As I remember, this College was an outgrowth of Epworth University of Fort Worth and was a Methodist College. Instead of Franklin's going back to Park College in Missouri, we all though it wise for him to go to this school and be at home, and also where Donovan and Dorothy would have the same advantages. Donovan was enrolled in Central High School for his last year. This school was in the 700 block of North Robinson. Dorothy was going to Hawthorn, which was three blocks west of our home.
It wasn't long before Oklahoma City College became Oklahoma City University and at the same time moved to a new building at 23rd. and Blackwelder. This brought it much closer to home and more convenient to travel since the space between our home and the college was vacant land. It was nice for their mother to have them home, as we had had gas piped into the garage to a hot point two burner stove for washing purposes, and they helped with the laundry work.
All three children graduated from Oklahoma City University. Franklin had to supplement a course of Physics in order to get into the school of Medicine of Oklahoma University at Norman, Oklahoma, but only four years of college were necessary for this preparation. He will tell from here on in the history of his life about his work at O. U. and getting started into a successful medical career. He married Josephine Jack on June 3, 1930.
Donovan had one year at Oklahoma A and M at Stillwater because he wanted an Agriculture course, but somehow they switched him to another course that he did not like; so he came back and finished at O.C.U. After graduating he applied to the Air Force to take lessons in flying and was sent to Riverside, California. He later took a competitive test in a Civil Service Examination, and won an appointment to the office of Surgeon General of the War Department. He went to Washington the day before Thanksgiving, 1934, and has been in government service ever since.
When Dorothy finished high school, she majored in Kindergarten at O. C. U., and after graduation was hired by the Board of Education to teach in the public schools of Oklahoma City, which position she held until her marriage January 21, 1939, to William Macklin Osborn. She then moved to Midland, Texas, to live.
Donovan married Georgia Byers on October 20th, 1930. They met in the choir of the First Presbyterian Church in Okla. City.
After getting the children satisfactorily settled in the schools of their choice, Uncle John Marshall and I found a piece of business property at 10th and Hudson which was paying a good rental income; so we purchased it from Mary G. and Ben J. Russell, paying $32,500.00 dollars for 65 feet on 10th and 116 feet on Hudson on October 10th, 1922. The rear part of the lot, facing Hudson and Park, had no building on it, and there were 10 feet on the east side of the building facing 10th St. There was a pile of brick (used) on the vacant lot in the rear which Uncle John and I cleaned up and used to put up a small one story building, 10 feet by 27 feet, on the east side of the main building, and rented it for $30.00 per month to a cleaning and pressing establishment. We then covered the vacant ground at the rear, with room left for parking, with three rental rooms, one story approximately 20 by 65 feet. We also paved that part of the lot back of the building in the rear and on Park for drive-in parking. With these additional rental rooms and an increase in some of the rents, we had enough income to pay school expenses, which had become rather heavy in view of the fact that all three were in college at once.
We can all look back on the days of the depression which burst down upon us in 1929. Business went all to pieces. The cleaning establishment which we had rented on a progressive scale and had gotten up to $44.00 per month began to default and finally moved out. We rerented to a watch maker at $12.50 per month. It was that way with all eleven tenants, and so hard times were upon us. I started working for Wilson and Co. at a small salary to help pay expenses and buy groceries. J. F. McMan was President and he was a friend of mine. I worked into a position of store room manager which I held until I retired April 1st., 1946. I took courses in different phases of packing operation and received grades of A on work that I sent in and on the courses given by the Institute of Meat Packers under the direction of the University of Chicago, which issued credits on the work that I did.
Mr. McMan died suddenly of a heart attack, and I soon found out that I had lost my best friend, but I worked on under a new management. I was receiving $48.00 per week when I retired. I only had one helper, and most of the time he was not competent in book work. I went home many a night and put an ice pack to the back of my neck, caused by the intense strain I was under every day. We kept what we called a perpetual inventory and the large loose leaf stock file had to be balanced every day. I asked for extra help frequently and the reply was "that is what we are paying you for". One day in March 1946, to that kind of reply, I wrote out my resignation and laid it on the Superintendent's desk. They were white enough to give me two weeks vacation.
I had been diagnosed as having cancer of the prostate and we had made up our minds to move to Ft. Worth. We had sold the business property on 10th St. for $45,000.00 in May 1937, and Aunt Ollie and I decided, as being the best in view of the fact that we both had heirs and might be the cause of some controversy if anything happened to either of us. Uncle John had died January 26th, 1929. I turned around and invested my part of the proceeds in lots 1 and 2, block 4. Winans Addition, which was at the corner of 22nd. and Robinson, which had a six room bungalow and a four family apartment, facing north on 22nd. St. and a two story duplex, facing north on 22nd. St., and a two story duplex, facing east on the back end of the lots facing east on Robinson Avenue. We paid $23,500 and turned around and sold the A. R. Griffiths for $27,000. I had managed both properties, the one on 10th. St. and the one at 22nd, and Robinson, and with the exception of the first seven years, which were good, on 10th. St. I always knew that there was a job waiting for me when I got off from work at the plant. The apartment property was the worst. Everybody had apartments for rent and your tenants just wouldn't stay put. Will those times ever come again?
We had put our property at 2031 N. W. 16th. St. for sale. It didn't look like it would sell. We were asking $8400.00 and a woman came one evening with a real estate man and she bought it right off the bat and had two buyers for it the next day. And this is the house we paid $5600 for in 1921. People suddenly awakened and found that there was a shortage of houses. Ike Harrell, my wife's cousin Alta's husband, who was appraiser for the Security Building and Loan in Oklahoma City, appraised our home for a loan of $5500, which was $100.00 less than we paid in 1921.
To the credits I received from the University of Chicago, I also received some credits from the Oklahoma City University under Mr. Castleberry's night classes in Real Estate and Business Law.
During my vacation, I found some barrels and began packing dishes, getting ready to move to Fort Worth. Kings of North Broadway appeared to be the cheapest movers. They claimed that they had storage in Fort Worth, but it was not what I had expected it to be. There were no storage which Kings driver took was at 1104 Commerce St. in Fort Worth, and when I inspected it, I found it piled in piles and certainly a mess. To make matters worse, this man had to give up his lease, and without notifying us had moved our furniture out on East Belknap and piled it up on a deck which was half as high as a one story house. We had some damage to some furniture and blankets while it was stored on Commerce St. due to water which ran in. There was supposed to be insurance, but we received very little reimbursement. This experience had prejudiced us against shipping by Van.
When we moved from Illinois, we looked the house after paying the rent for the time that we thought necessary. We did not have anything very expensive except an upright piano. Everything was boxed and shipped by local freight to Oklahoma City.
Out move to Ft. Worth (our little six room house on Williams Road, Route 5, Box 316,) is the last move until we are carried out. My very dear wife has already departed this life to her Heavenly Home, "that House not made with hands, Eternal in the Heavens."
Our life in Fort Worth has been happy, but mixed with sickness and sorrow at times, "God's Grace" had always been sufficient. We have been near a dear son and daughter-in-law in Fort Worth, whose advise has been most advisable at all times, and a dear daughter and her husband at Midland, Texas, only 300 miles away, but whom we are privileged to see at frequent intervals.
This history would not be complete, without a brief resume of my dear wife's church activities, in both Oklahoma City and Fort Worth. In Oklahoma City, she held an "Honorary Life Membership Award" from the Board of National Missions of the Presbyterian Church, USA, by the First Presbyterian Church, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, in recognition of consecrated service as Committee Chairman in charge of mission work among the Indians at Dwight, Oklahoma, and the Negroes at Valient, Oklahoma, I went with her on these trips to Dwight and Valient.
In addition to this work, she did much calling in Oklahoma City on the sick and prospective church members. She was always ready to go with me on prospects I received by being a chairman of the Sessions Evangelistic Committee. Our lives have been very full of church activities wherever we lived.
My wife also received "From the Ridglea Presbyterian Church, U. S.", Fort Worth, Texas, the first "Honorary Life Membership", presented by the Women of the Church in recognition of her faithfulness to her Christian precepts in visiting the sick and calling on new members, and for her desire to share with others the joys of Christian fellowship. This affiliation began in 1946 and ended in 1957 at which time her membership was transferred from Church Militant to the Church Triumphant.
Since this writing is supposed to be a history of my own life, I feel very humble about telling about any honors that I may have received during my lifetime. I am not entering into this dissertation in a spirit of boastfulness, fully realizing that I may have received much more than I have been able to give. I feel that all Christian service is just that way. We all fall short of our Spiritual obligations in life among our fellowmen and to the Church of which we are a part, and of which, Christ is the Head.
My paternal and material ancestors I have fully set forth in separate lines. My purpose now is to give their religious background as it affects me. As I stated, in both these lines, they came from Franklin Co., Penn. or Cumberland Co., Penn. So far as the records reveal, they were all Presbyterians, and my grandfather, James Campbell, were elders in the Lower Path Valley Presbyterian Church at Fannettsburg, Penn., and when my grandfather, James Campbell, and family migrated to Illinois, he served as an Elder, making a total of fifty years, counting the time in Fannettsburg and in Fountain Green, Illinois.
The beginning of my maternal ancestral line began with one "Samuel Huston", who married Isabella Sharon, and the "History of the Huston Families" relates that they were members of "Silver Spring" Presbyterian Church and that their remains repose in Pine Hill Cemetery, which is located at the northwest corner of the old Samuel Huston farm. Silver Spring Presbyterian Church was the first Presbyterian Church west of the Alleghenies.
Speaking of my own service to my church, at Elvaston Presbyterian Church, I served as Trustee and Elder and was chosen as a commissioner to the General Assembly which met at Columbus, Ohio, in May of 1918. There, I was privileged to hear Dr. J. Wilbour Chapman, retiring Moderator and world wide evangelist. This was a very great privilege to me and added much to my Christian Experience. In Oklahoma City, I never felt that I could leave my job long enough to attend any of the church courts as delegate, of which I had the opportunity many times. I have always felt that all of my Christian fellowships and contacts have been most profitable.
When we moved to Fort Worth, we joined the Ridglea Presbyterian Church, US, and I served as Elder and attended Mid-Texas Presbytery at Abilene in May, 1952. On the 8th. of August, 1952, I had a severe heart attack which kept me in the hospital for six weeks and in a hospital bed at home until near Christmas. In the later part of 1953, I began having gall bladder attacks, which resulted in an operation February 21, 1954. On account of my illness and age, the Ridglea Presbyterian Church voted me Elder Emeritus, which gives me all the privileges of a Ruling Elder for life.
Mrs. Campbell and I have always been proud of the children she bore and for their success in life, and not the least, their Christian concept of their duties to respective churches of which they are a part. They each married into active Presbyterian homes and that in itself contributes to a happy married life.
I am a 32 degree Mason and work in all the chairs and floor work. I belong to the Sons of the American Revolution dating back to Samuel Huston of Penn., who was a private in Capt. Henry McKinley's Company, 12th. Penn. Reg., commanded by Colonel William Cook, Revolutionary War.
(signed) H. Lynn Campbell
After Mothers death September 27, 1957, Dad continued to live alone on Williams Road. He had two and one-half acres which he kept tidy with the help of a yard man once a week. Because of coronary artery disease, he was not able to do much work.
About one week before his death, he consulted his family physician, Dr. Ivan Readinger who reported to me that Dad was very sick. Josephine drove out and brought him into our house on Windsor Place and that night he had chills and fever. After a few days he was put in Harris Hospital where he died one week later, on October 7, 1959.
The funeral was at Ridglea Presbyterian Church, after which Dorothy and William Osborn, Josephine and I took him back to Illinois for burial. Georgia and Donovan came from New York and our son James came from MIT. He was buried in the family plot in the Elvaston Cemetery.
To all who knew him, his was the prefect example of the Christian life. He is missed very much.
J. Franklin Campbell
January 1, 1980