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David Earle Slack - about his grandfather:
The following are special memories I have of Granddaddy.
In the fall of 1936, Granddaddy and Grandma drove over to our farm in their new Ford V -8 sedan. They had brought us beef steak (that is what we called round steak in those days) to celebrate the reelection of President Roosevelt.Granddaddy was a "yellow dog Democrat" -- he would rather see a yellow dog elected than any Republican. In 1940, he wanted to hear the broadcast of the night session of the Democratic Convention, when President Roosevelt was to be...
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David Earle Slack - about his grandfather:
The following are special memories I have of Granddaddy.
In the fall of 1936, Granddaddy and Grandma drove over to our farm in their new Ford V -8 sedan. They had brought us beef steak (that is what we called round steak in those days) to celebrate the reelection of President Roosevelt.Granddaddy was a "yellow dog Democrat" -- he would rather see a yellow dog elected than any Republican. In 1940, he wanted to hear the broadcast of the night session of the Democratic Convention, when President Roosevelt was to be chosen to represent the party for a third term. Since Granddaddy strictly adhered to going to bed around 6 to 7 p.m. each night and since he allowed no radios other than Grandma's crystal radio in the house, he thought he was going to miss the broadcast. Hank solved the problem by driving our car (a '39 Mercury), which had a radio, up to his bedroom window. It was summer, so his window was open, and with the radio turned up he had a front row seat (or should I say bed) to witness the historic event. I can remember sitting in the car with Hank (I don't know who else was there) and listening to the speeches.
Granddaddy was known for his salty language and his strong opinions of what was right and what was wrong. Mixing the two together usually resulted in vivid expostulations. He also liberally used rather vulgar sayings to emphasize his points. One he commonly used when referring to someone's incompetence was "he doesn't know enough to pour piss out of a boot with directions printed on the heel."
But Granddaddy wasn't all storm and bluster. He was fascinating to listen to when he would talk to us about historical events, especially those that had occurred in our general area of Iowa. Around 1939, he and Grandma took Hank, Sid, and me on an all-day trip to visit several sites around the historic region of Red Rock. One of the stops was on a high bluff overlooking the broad expanse of the Des Moines River valley. As he talked, I could readily visualize Indians skulking along the river and the covered wagons of pioneers being drug through the sloughs by mighty oxen. Another stop on this trip was at the home of an old man who had a great collection of Indian artifacts and who told us stories about the Red Rock area. It was truly a great day. I wish we had had more like it.
At the Sandyville farm, Granddaddy had a large shop that was well supplied with a variety of hand tools (electricity didn't arrive in this community until after we left the farm in the late 1940s). Early on, I received basic instructions about using the tools and was soon given permission to use the shop. Granddaddy kept a good supply of lath, 3-penny nails, and cedar shingles for us to use. Whenever we visited Grandma and Granddaddy, a session in the shop was always included. We made airplanes, boats, play farm buildings and equipment, stilts, etc. My love for working with wood began in Granddaddy's shop.
Cockleburs were one of the really bad weeds that contaminated Granddaddy's fields. Cultivation would get rid of many of them, but those within the rows would continue to thrive. The only way they could be eliminated was with a hoe. This was done in August, the hottest time of the summer, generally by hired hands, but when we got old enough we also became part of the work force. Granddaddy paid us; I don't remember how much, but it seemed like a small fortune. We saved our earnings miserly so we would have money to spend at the State Fair at the end of the month. It would usually pay for a few rides on the midway, cotton candy, a frosty mug of rootbeer, and a trinket or two.
When Granddaddy dressed up to attend some important meeting, he really looked quite distinguished. He wore the same style of clothing throughout the 1920s, '30s and '40s. Primarily, it consisted of a single-breasted, light-brown suit, a white shirt with detachable starched collar with winged tips, and a narrow tan-colored woven tie. His shoes were generally oxfords, and on occasion he wore gray cloth spats. His hat was a very trim, light-brown fedora. His attire may have appeared dated, but it certainly did look sharp. Mostly, we saw Granddaddy in his work clothes, which were quite casual. In the summer, he wore a loose fitting, plain-colored cotton shirt and loosely woven cotton trousers, which were held up by suspenders. Early, he wore broad-brimmed felt hats (never straw hats), and in the 1930s he began wearing molded pith helmets. When these wore out, they became our prized possessions, and we really finished wearing them out. Steve was particularly fond of these hats. Granddaddy also wore gum boots in the morning, because of heavy dews, and, of course, at any time it was raining. These also came down to us when new ones were required. On us, they were more like boats than boots, but they were fun to slosh around in. Granddaddy's work attire was completed by a pair of leather gauntlet gloves. These, also, were highly prized when they came down to us; they became"cowboy gloves."
In the 1930s,Granddaddy, on occasion, went squirrel hunting in the fall. He wore a light brown corduroy jacket and cap, a tan silk scarf at his neck, and he carried a 12-gauge shotgun. We never went with him, nor do I remember if he brought back squirrels. I was very fond of his hunting attire, and when he died it was given to me. I wore it for years as a work outfit in the winter months. The 12-gauge shotgun also came down to us, but we rarely used it because it kicked so hard.
I have also related the following story in Grandma Slack's biography, but, since it so clearly reveals Granddaddy's philosophy on life, I feel it deserves being told twice. Granddaddy and Grandma rarely came into our house; they usually stopped their car at the driveway entrance, honked the horn, and waited for us to come out. We didn't get in the car but stood on the running board. Granddaddy would then ask us, "what are the five things you need to do to be successful in life?" Whereupon, we would answer in unison, "don't lie, don't cheat, don't steal, don't be afraid to say no, and don't let anyone run over you." He would make some approving remark and then he and Grandma would give each of us a piece of candy; quite often, it was candy orange slices. We would then be dismissed and he and Grandma would visit for a while with our mother.
Granddaddy loved a humorous story, and when it struck his funny bone he would throw back his head and laugh raucously. As Bea would say, "You could hear him in the next county." Even when he was reading, if he came to a humorous section he would laugh right out loud. His favorite place to read was in the dining room, sitting tipped back in a big rocker with his feet propped up on a small book stand. Grandma had made a special pillow for the top of the stand, for his feet to rest on. I still have this stand and use it to hold phonograph records, where he kept the books he was reading. Granddaddy would read and reread books that he especially liked. One of them was David Harum, a story about a country philosopher. He had read it so often that Grandma had to repair the binding with cloth. This book is in my collection of family memorabilia.
Granddaddy liked beef jerky, and each winter he would make his own. He hung thin strips of salted round steak from a string that was stretched across the pantry doorway, which was next to the heating stove. As it hung there over a couple of months, it got very dry, tough, and, of course, very tasty. When we visited in the winter months, small sections were sliced from one of the strips and given tous for a treat, and what a treat it was. In the summer months, the beef jerky was replaced by thinly sliced dried beef that came in small juice-sized glasses; Grandma often used it to make dried beef and gravy, which was mighty good when spread thickly over toast. The small glasses, of course, were saved for juice glasses.
Granddaddy wore a mustache until about 1924. What caused him to shave it off isn't known, but he never wore one after that. He used a shaving mug and brush to apply lather to his face and a straight razor to shave. I used his mug (which has his name on it- H.E. Slack) and brush when I first started shaving, but not his razor. The mug and brush are in my collection.
There were two things that Granddaddy kept in his bedroom that fascinated us children. One was Smith Brothers cough drops, which he kept along the bed rail at the head of the bed. I'm ashamed to say that we found these irresistible, and when the time was right we would sneak in and help ourselves. If you aren't familiar with them, then you can't imagine how good those licorice-tasting cough drops were. The other item of interest was much more dangerous. It was a blue-steel 32-caliber Smith and Wesson revolver. It was kept under the mattress at the head ofGranddaddy's bed. Undoubtedly, we discovered it while searching for coughdrops. Always, we just looked at it and put it back. But one day, Steve and I decided we wanted to fire it. I don'tremember how old we were, I was probably around 12 and Steve was 8. As Ir ecall, no one was around that afternoon, so we carefully removed the revolver from its hiding place and walked down to the creek, south of the house. We selected a huge cottonwood tree to fire at. I was the designated shooter. I aimed carefully and pulled the trigger. Blam.!! I think my ears rang for a week after that. I have no idea whether we hit the tree or anything near it. Steve declined a tum, so we quickly returned the revolver to its rightful place. I don't recall ever looking at it again, until we were a lot older. Thank God for guardian angels.
Granddaddy had a phonograph record that he really enjoyed. I had it in my collection for years, but I can't find it now. It was titled "Great Granddad," and it went something like this: "I have a little song I'll sing to you, it ain't particularly funny, it ain't particularly sad, it's a song about my great granddad. Great granddad was a busy man, he cooked his grub in a fryin' pan, picked his teeth with a huntin' knife, and wore the same suit all his life. Twenty one children came to bless the old man's home in the wilderness. Twenty one boys and not one bad. They didn't get tough with old granddad, for if they had, he'd have been right glad to tan their hide with a hickory gad." There was more, but I can't remember it.
Henry ElsworthSlack
According to records (U.S./Iowa census of 1870 and 1880 and Warren County marriage records), Henry Slack was born in 1865. Family tradition and notes from his wife suggest that the year was 1867. Not only is there controversy about the year, but the month, as well. Some in his family believed that the date was March 7. He and his wife always celebrated May 7 as his birthday. The best I can do with the records available to me is to set Henry's birth at May 7, 1865.
He was born on a small farm near Hartford, Iowa, to William and Mary Greathouse Slack. He was the last of ten children born to this union. Apparently, the family was quite poor, because they had such meager land holdings. On a map of Richland Twp., dated 1872, there is only a small 20-acre tract listed for W. Slack. It is in the right location for the site where Henry was born. (Oral history from Granddaddy Slack, also photos - see Slack File.) It is located about 1/4 mile west of the railroad tracks on the cemetery road that leads to the west from the southwest corner of Hartford. As you travel west down a small hill from the tracks, a little creek is seen running to the north. The house, according to Granddaddy, was set back from the road about 50 yards and located on the west bank, up off the flood plain. A photo in the Slack File, taken in the late 1930s, shows Granddaddy sitting on a camp stool at this very spot. The house had long since disappeared.
I know nothing specifically of Henry's childhood. The only male sibling anywhere close to his age would have been Billy, who was 9 years older. Although there were two young sisters, Kiz, 3 years older, and Eva, 5 years older, it would appear that he had to go outside his family for playmates. Several neighbors lived nearby, so I expect they were the source for friends.
Two events occurred early in Henry's childhood, which I believe had a strong influence in developing certain strong attitudes for the rest of his life. The first of these was the death of his brother Billy in 1871 at the age of 15, as the result of an accident on the farm. It is not clear how the accident occurred, but oral history related it was a pitchfork wound, resulting from Billy's fall from a wagon of hay. The wound was not immediately fatal and Billy lingered for several days before dying (see letter in Slack File from his mother at the time of his death).
Henry was only six years old at this time, and the events following Billy's accident, lingering illness, and eventual death must have had a marked psychological effect. This would be especially true if he held his older brother in high esteem, as children of this age often do.
The next event probably evolved as the result of his Grandfather Slack's death in 1872. Although never stated as such, it may have been the division of his estate that instigated the argument over land between William Slack and his brother-in-law, Joe Taylor (Joe was married to William's sister, Sarah). In any case, the argument became vicious, and William was fatally stabbed. Henry was 8 years old when this happened in early September of 1873. Oral tradition states that the fight occurred at the center of town (Hartford) and was witnessed by many. Joe was later acquitted. Can't you just imagine the comments of town folk and, especially, the merciless teasing issued by his classmates when he returned to school that fall? I am sure that this last event, and the community's response to it, heaped on top of his grief and bewilderment about his brother's death previously, led to his bitter feelings toward the people of Hartford. Granddaddy never had kind words for much of anyone who lived in or around Hartford.
I think that this bitter resentment also engendered a strong desire to succeed and show these sanctimonious souls, and the rest of the world for that matter, that the Slacks, and especially Henry E. Slack, were worthy of respect. Throughout his life, he was persistent in making scathing attacks on certain residents of Hartford. At the same time, however, he was always protective of the poor and downtrodden. He hired many who were down on their luck, or who had been rejected in someway by society, to work on his farms over the years. He believed strongly in fairness and that all, no matter what their station in life may be, should have an opportunity to better themselves.
I suppose that Henry received the eight years of elementary education that most did at that time. He most likely would have finished school at Hartford in the spring of 1879, at the age of 14.
Depending on his physical stature, he probably began hiring out to neighbors as a farm laborer. How long hecontinued working as a laborer and what additional education he achieved is not known. He may have taught school himself in his later teens and early twenties; it didn't take much schooling in those days to become qualified as a teacher. Most of his sisters became teachers in their mid-teens (census records).
The earliest record we have of Henry Slack's adult life takes us to Emporia, Kansas. How, when, or why he got to Emporia isn't known. However, his oldest sister Kate (she was 21 years older than Henry) had married William Ferguson when she emigrated to the Emporia community in the mid-1860s. It is likely that Henry moved "west" to establish his fortune. We don't know how long he had been there, but on March 7, 1887, at 22 years of age, he paid 0.W. Miller, Director of the Emporia Business College, thirty dollars in tuition for one year's study (see "scholarship" in Slack File). Just two months later, Henry paid Mr. Miller ten dollars for a course in typewriting (see receipt in Slack File). He finished the course of study in business in less than a year and was awarded a diploma from the Emporia Business College on January 15, 1888 (a copy is shown in Appendix 1). It states, "has completed the regular course of Business and Practice in this Institution and is an Intelligent and Competent Accountant."
What Henry did between January and May is not evident, but on May 11, 1888, he rented an upstairs office at 506 Commercial Street in Emporia from Mr. E. N. Evans. In the lease, it states that the ''room was to be used as a general real estate, loan and brokers business office."
The lease was for one year and the rent was $9.50 per month. I don't know how successful he was in this venture or for how long he engaged in it. He must have had thoughts about changing, though, because in December of 1889 (about 1 1/2 years later) he had his professor from the Business College, 0.W.Miller, fill out an evaluation of his qualifications for superintendent of education for an Indian reservation school. Since the evaluation was never sent, Henry must not have made the application (see evaluation form and description of qualifications from the Dept. of the Interior-Office on Indian Affairs in the Slack File). Reviewing the evaluation responses, however, revealed a bit of new information concerning his residency in Kansas, and Emporia, in particular. Mr. Miller stated that Henry had resided in both for five years. This would have put his arrival in Kansas at 1884; Henry would have been nineteen years old. This date, by the way, coincides with the year in which his mother, Mary Slack, sold the twenty-acre farm and moved into Hartford.
When Henry returned to Iowa isn't known, but on April 25, 1888, he purchased the "E 1/2 of the out lot between Hartford and Spry's addition." [Warren Co. Index to Deeds, Book 6-Grantee 1882-1892, p. 12 of the "S's." Ref. to Deed Book 35, p. 482.] The deed, however, was not filed until March 13, 1889. This lot was in the southeast corner of Hartford. When or if he occupied this lot is not evident. At the same filing date, Henry also recorded the purchase of lots 1, 2, and 3 in block 1 of Spry's addition on 12 April 1889 (Deed Book 35, p. 483). He later sold these lots on 9 March 1891 (Warren County Deed Book 41, p. 550). On November 17,1891, Henry and his wife Josie sold lots 2, 3, and 4 in Block 2 and lots 1, 2,and 3 in Block 3 in Maddock's addition (Quit Claim, Deed Book 31, p. 603 ... for the lots in Block2; Warranty Deed for those in Block 3; Book 41 pp. 552 and 603). As yet, I haven't found when or from whom they acquired the lots in Maddock's addition. They sold them to Henry's sister, Josephine Nunnally. A map of Hartford, showing the location of these various lots, is in Appendix 2.
The next record we have for Henry is his marriage to Florence Josephine ("Josie") Guthrie near Hartford, Iowa, on March 25, 1891.[Grandma's notes and "Marriages of Warren Co., Iowa." Also, a copy of the marriage license (Warren Co., Iowa, Marriage Records 1891, p. 332) is in the Slack File.] Oral tradition relates that Henry and Josie met at the Iowa State Fair at the old fiddler's tent. This must have been in August of 1889 or 1890. Tradition continues on to say that whenever they attended the State Fair in subsequent years, they always included a visit to the old fiddler's tent (story related by their daughter, Bea). On December 3, 1890, Josie's 23rd birthday, her father, Newton Guthrie, gave each of his children 40 acres. [Warren Co. DeedBook 42, pp. 165 and 166.] Josie and her brother Elmer jointly received the south 40 acres of the unattached 80 acres in section 26 and the 40 acres that were attached to the original 160 acres of Newton's farm in Section 22. Her brother Ed was given the north 40 acres of the original 160 acres. Josie sold the 20 acres of her half of the 40 acres in section 22 to her brother Ed on January 3,1891. [Warren Co. Deed Book 42, p. 324.] On April 13, 1891, just three weeks after her marriage, Josie purchased 35 acres, about 1/2 mile west of Hartford, from Henry's brother John ("Bud") Slack [Warren Co. Deedbook 42, p. 398.] (apparently, at least in part, with the money from the sale of the 20 acres) (see Appendix 5). This property contained the house that comprised the homestead of Henry and Josie's first farm (Plate II, Fig. 3). Josie deeded this property to Henry on November 5, 1892. [ Warren Co. Deed book 43, p. 552.] My mother, Beatrice, their only child, was born there on April 22, 1892.
The next record available is a deed for the purchase of two adjacent 40-acre tracts of land on August14, 1893. [Warren Co. Deed book 45, p. 602.] Henry paid $2,800 for the 80 acres ($35/acre). This land was located about 1/2 mile to the west of their home place, about where the Pyle place was located that Granddaddy bought and we moved to in 1937 (48 years later). Seventy acres was added to the west and north of the home place on February 25, 1895 [Warren Co. Deed book 48, p. 451]. With this purchase, the home place consistedof 105 acres, 81 acres along the north side of the Hartford Road (now Hwy. 5) and 24 acres north and east, attached to the northeast corner. To pay for this addition, Henry sold the 80 acres in section 19 that he had bought in 1893. He made a profit of $500 on the transaction.
Henry must have supplemented his income from farming by teaching school in the winter months, at least in the early years. In the Slack File, there is a Teacher's first-class certificate, dated November 1, 1892, certifying that H. E. Slack had passed the examination, authorizing him to teach in the schools of Warren County for eight months (Appendix 3). On the back, it shows an extension of the certificate to Nov. 1, 1893. Where he taught isn't evident. Sometime, probably before or shortly after his marriage, he may have taught in the schools around Milo and Truro in the southern part of Warren County. This is based on oral history from my mother.
On February 20,1899, Henry again added to his holdings when he purchased the farm across the road to the south [WarrenCo. Deed book 54, p. 6.] (see Appendix Sa). The purchase price for this 80 acres was $4,000. The total acres in the two farms was now about 180 acres (a small segment had been sold earlier off the east side of the original 35 acres). This farm had a large stylish house and an extensive set of outbuildings. Henry improved the farm and its buildings even more and named it Hill Crest Farm. Over the driveway, he placed an arching sign with the farm's name on it.
Additions of 40 acres to the west side of Hill Crest Farm and 70 acres to the north of the original home place were made in December of 1901 [Warren Co. Deed book 58, pp. 142 and 257]. (see Appendix 5a). This brought the total acres for the combined farms to about 250 (Plate II, Fig. 4, shocking corn at Hill Crest Farm).
Henry continued to- prosper, but in February of 1905 a major change occurred. He sold the 120-acre Hill Crest Farm and purchased a farm two miles to the north, bordering on Middle River and extending back south over the bluff. Shortly thereafter, he purchased land directly across the river on the expansive Des Moines River bottom (see Appendix 5b). This farm was named Riverside Farm [See letterhead stationery dated 1910 in Slack file], but later, as he purchased more of the bottom land to the north, it was renamed the Island Farm (see copy of registration of Island Farm name in Appendix 4). The farm included a portion of the original 320-acre squatter's right taken in 1842 by John D. Parmelee, the first settler in Warren County. Also present on the farm was the log cabin built by Parmelee in 1843 [According to Bob Betzer, Carlisle, Iowa, this was the second cabin and was built in 1853, replacing the first, which was destroyed by fire. This was from a clipping froma Des Moines newspaper of that time.] (Plate III, Fig. 5). Parmelee had permission from the U.S. government to settle here early, so he could build a saw mill on Middle River to supply lumber to build Fort Des Moines, about 12 miles northwest at the confluence of the Des Moines and Raccoon Rivers. At the time of the purchase, the outbuildings on the farm were modern, but apparently the cabin was the only dwelling; In any case, this primitive building (50 to 60 years old) was to be the Slack family home for the next fourteen plus years. Henry doted on history, so I expect he was thrilled with the opportunity to live in such an historic site. I doubt that Grandma and Bea shared his enthusiasm. It was about this time, though, that Bea was sent to boarding school at St. Joseph's Academy in Des Moines, so she was able to escape to a more civilized setting, at least during the school year. But what a come down for Grandma, from the large modern home on Hill Crest Farm to a simple, confining, and deteriorating pioneer cabin.
Grandma was always a good sport though, and I'm sure she made the best of the situation.
The cabin, as described in a newspaper article in 1916 by Grandma's brother Elmer Guthrie, consisted of two rooms, each 18 feet square [See clipping (from the Des Moinses Register and Leader, 27 February 1916) in The Slack File, under Parmelee Cabin]. Originally, they were separated by an open space of ten feet between them. This style was called a "dog trot" cabin, because this is where the family dogs laid in the summer; the roof provided shade and the open space created a breeze-way. This space had wisely been boarded up years earlier to create a 10- by 18-foot kitchen and dining area. The walls were apparently still the rough hewn log surfaces. A large fireplace had been located at the end of the east room, but it had been removed and bricked up when iron stoves became available. I suppose the living room was on this end and the bedroom on the other. I don't know what they created for Bea's bedroom when she was home.
Although Henry was lavish in his expansion of the outbuildings, little was done to the cabin.
This was always made a point of contrast in articles written about the farm, the simple dwelling and the large modern farm buildings. The following story, taken from an article in the Des Moines Register, October 20, 1918 (see Appendix 6), pretty well typifies the feelings of those making this contrast and Henry's feelings toward the contractors. One of Mr. Slack's workers was chauffeuring some visitors around the farm and he related this story: "Oneday Mr. Slack was standing on the bridge [over Middle River] when a car drove up and the driver pointed at our farm. 'Look at all those buildings and improvements,' he says; 'And they say the rich old devil that owns all this lives in that little shack' [the cabin]. "'Well,' said Mr. Slack,' if it suits me, it ought to suit you.' And you ought to have seen that fellow drive on." I'm sure that the storyteller or the author of the article deleted the spicy language with which Henry would have embellished his response to the stranger.
One of Henry's first projects was to renovate and expand the outbuildings. Pictures in the Slack File reveal that the barn, which stood some distance to the northeast of the cabin, was one of the early recipients of change (Plate III, Figs. 6 and 7). After it was remodeled, it became the bearer of the farm sign, which had now been changed to "Island Farm - H. E. Slack proprietor" (see copy of registration of the name in Appendix 4). The name "Island Farm" was derived from the local name given to this area. E. E. Guthrie, in his article about the Parmelee cabin, described it thusly: "About two miles above the junction of the Des Moines and Middle Rivers a cutoff joins the two. This channel is about the size of Middle River and the direction of its current is governed by the relative height of the water in the two rivers. This makes about 1500 acres of land embraced by these waters a true island" (see Island area in the lined portion of the map shown in Appendix 5).
Early in his tenure on the Island, Henry decided to emphasize the feeding of cattle. Two cattle sheds, each of which was about 100 feet long, were built about 150 feet back from the road and east of the cabin. A fence enclosed the area between the sheds and the road, creating two separate lots. Similar lots were constructed to the north of the cabin. A clipping from the Des Moines Register, February 27, 1916, shows this layout very well (Plate IV,Fig. 8) [See newspaper clipping dated February 27, 1916.] Soon after the sheds were built, double, connected silos were erected at the northeast corner of both sets of lots. These silos each measured 50 feet in height and 18 feet in diameter (Plates IV and V, Figs. 9 and 10). The silos were connected by an enclosed drive-through and measured about 50 feet across the front. The drive-through had huge wooden doors that swung to the inside. Apparently, the purpose of the enclosure was to provide a protected area for loading silage into wagons. The silos and connector were covered by a very low-pitched roof. All in all, they were very impressive structures. The exact date of their construction isn't known, but the west silo has a date stone of 1913 (see photo in Slack file). It is difficult to make out the structure behind this second silo in the news clipping, but it appears to be another set of cattle sheds. I don't know how many cattle were put through these lots each year, but I expect it was around 200 head.
Early in 1918, Henry apparently decided to make a drastic change in his livestock operation and in his dwelling. From Grandma's day journal of 1937-40, the following excerptis taken: "Feb. 18- 1940-22 years (ago) today (1918) and tomorrow we had a two days sale. Sold all the stock and machinery, also car. Was bitterly cold. No snow but the ground so rough-roads (were) bad traveling. Many came on the C.B.&Q Train which stopped next to the pond (north of the east twin silo) to let men off to attend the sale. Next day, the 19th was not so cold. Doc Nooder, Henry's riding horse, was sold. Proceeds were given to the Red Cross. He brought $500. Bought by a Colfax man. Everything sold at high prices. Sale brought $50,000 [Plates V& VI, Figs11-13]. On March 8 (1918) we left for Kansas City then on down to Vicksburg, New Orleans and other cities. Came back the latter part of April (They were gone over a month and a half). Stopped in Des Moines, bought new car, drove back home to the cabin. In June went to Denver then to lake-Lost Island (near Ruthven in NW Iowa)."
During the next two years, the following changes occurred: The cattle sheds and pens were removed, the original barn and out buildings were torn down, a dairy bam was built behind the west twin silos, a mule bam was built to the southwest of the west silos, a three-story southern styled brick mansion was built just to the north and slightly east of the cabin, dairy cattle were purchased, and a milking operation initiated.
The mansion (to be known for the rest of its existence as the "Slack Mansion") was southern Greek revival in style with four two-story columns in the front. I expect Henry researched the style for their new home during their visit to the South in 1918. It was constructed of rough surfaced red brick, laid in an alternating end-side-end pattern. The roof was covered by grooved, shingle-shaped red clay tiles. It was three stories high and had a full basement. The front was graced by a two-story porch, with paired, white-glazed, fluted terra cotta columns supporting each corner. The columns were capped by ionic scrolls. The porch extended from the covered portion to each corner along the front of the house and was enclosed by a terra cottabalustrade. There were five broad steps leading in pyramid-fashion up to the columned portion of the porch. Large triple-windowed dormers at the third-floor level extended from the east and west sides of the roof. A double-columned drive-through portico was on the west side, and a double-columned porch on the east gave the structure symmetry. There was one large chimney in the center of the north roof. Approximate outside dimensions were 60' wide, 50' deep, and 40'high (Plates VI and VII, Figs. 14-16) [From news clipping by Herb Owens].
There were five outside entrances to the first floor: one at the rear at ground level (also opened to the basement), one from the portico on the west, two at the east- one to the kitchen (north) and one to the library (south), and the arched entry from the porch at the front (south). On the east side were the kitchen (24 square feet) with a breakfast nook at the northeast corner and the library, with a corner fireplace flanked on either side by built-in book cases at the southeast corner. The west side consisted of the dining room at the northwest corner, which was paneled with gumwood and had built-in buffet and china cabinets, and the living room, located at the southwest corner. A large entrance hall was in the center of the south side. The ionic column motif from the front of the house was repeated in the hall. The hall opened to the library and living room, and awide, winding staircase led to the second floor. There was probably an entrance to a back hall, which communicated with the kitchen and dining room. Upstairs, there were four bedrooms and two bathrooms.
The third floor was unfinished and apparently remained so for the life of the house. There was a full basement, which contained coal-fired furnaces and a large boiler. The house was heated by steam. During the time that Granddaddy & Grandma lived there, the furnaces were handstoked. An elevator shaft was included between the basement and the second floor. An elevator was delivered, but it was not the right size and was returned. Another one was never ordered. A two-car, matching brick garage was built at the back and to the northeast of the house. All of this for an estimated cost of $60,000. The exact time of construction isn't known, but was probably through 1919. We know that it was finished by January 6, 1920, because my mother and father were married there on that date.
It was reported in the newspaper article by Herb Owens that Grandma continued to live in the cabin for several months after the mansion was built. I have never heard this before, but if it occurred it was probably because new furniture had not yet arrived. Grandma wasn't the type to pull pouty fits.
It was Granddaddy's intention to move the old cabin to a more suitable site on the banks of the pond, back of the east silos. However, when the workmen began dismantling it for the move, it was found to be in such a state of decay that it was simply torn down and discarded. A sad fate for such an historic edifice.
The farm consisted of approximately 500 to 700 acres during the last fifteen years that Granddaddy owned it (see Appendix 5d and 7). Other than the farmstead, a tree-lined pond, and the forested area along the river, the land was all tillable and of excellent quality, as is true of most bottomland. Being bottomland, it was always subject to flooding, but I don't remember anyone telling of any "great flood" that wiped out a major part of their crop for one year. There was a levee running from northwest to southeast, on which the C B & Q railroad ran. I expect this gave some protection from flooding of the south part of the farm. The power to till the soil and harvest the crops was supplied by mules and many hired hands (Plate VIII, Figs. 17-20). One report states that 34 teams of mules were used; that's 68 mules if you clarify a team as consisting of two mules. However, sometimes, especially for plowing, teams were made up of 5 mules. I expect, though, the reporter meant 2 mules per team. The mules were housed, when they were being worked, in the old barn and adjacent buildings. Sometime after 1916, the mule barn was built near the west silos. Pasture was to the west of the barn and around the pond.
If all 34 teams were being used, at least 34 men had to be hired to drive them. That's a lot of hired hands. It probably never reached that level, but a lot of manpower was required for field work and for caring for the livestock. Henry solved his labor needs, in part, by working out an agreement with the State Patrol Board for a portion of his work force. Mostly, he selected married parolees with families and furnished them with housing. I expect he felt a parolee with these kinds of commitments would make a more stable and dependable worker. For the most part, he was apparently right. Other than a few stories of bad conduct among workers from this source, most turned out to be quite valuable.
Steam engines, which may have been contracted from commercial sources, provided belt power for threshing, silage cutting, and baling (Plate IX, Fig. 21). Later, in the 1920s, tractors began to be used more and more. There is an excellent picture in the Slack File of two early International Harvester tractors plowing at the Island Farm. My father, Guy, is driving the rear tractor (Plate IX, Fig. 22). Still later, the tractors became more compact, as illustrated in the accompanying photo of a Fords on tractor (Plate IX, Fig. 23).
As mentioned before, the. livestock enterprise changed around 1919 or 1920 to dairy farming.
Just when the dairy barn was built isn't known, but it was not in the newspaper photo of February 27, 1916. I expect it was built in 1918 or 1919. Coincidental to the switch to dairying was the marriage of Bea to my father, Guy Tyler. Guy had done all the interior and exterior painting of the new mansion in 1919. This provided the opportunity for Guy and Bea to become better acquainted and eventually led to their marriage in the new house on January 6, 1920. Following a brief honeymoon, Guy was given the responsibility of supervising the dairy operation. Guy kept a day journal from December 1, 1921, to March 28, 1922. During that period, they were milking 50 or more cows and they were sending, on the average, about 8 1/2 cans (20-gallon cans) of milk to a Des Moines dairy each day (Plate IX, Fig. 24). Milking was done by hand by three full-time milkers; Guy filled in as needed (which was often). The milkers were each paid $24.00 per month. Two milking machines were demonstrated during this writing, but neither was purchased. Sometime later, however, milking machines were obtained. We had one of the last cast-aluminum buckets from that machine until we quit farming in 1950. During Guy's reporting, at least 21 head of new milk cows were purchased in Kansas City and shipped by rail to Hartford. Apparently, these were to replace 20 head that had been culled and sold from the herd at about the same time. They received $0.05/lb. for the culled cows (they averaged 1,220 lbs., so each cow brought about $60.00). The journal did not state what the replacements had cost.
Mention is made in the journal of Mr. Slack purchasing 21 feeder hogs (probably about 100 lbs. each) at a sale. I don't know how much the feeding of hogs contributed to the livestock enterprise during the final ten years on the Island Farm, but I don't think it was significant. The acreage in the Island Farm has been variably stated to be around 500 to 1,000 acres. I expect that it varied considerably over the years, as Granddaddy was always buying and selling land. In my research for this biography, I found records for over 50 land transactions made by Henry from 1888 to 1940. [See "Land Transactions by H.E. Slack 1888-1930" in the Slack File. Also, see Appendixes 5 to 5g for copies from Warren County Atlases for 1897, 1902-03, 1915, 1919-26, 1928, 1930, and 1935, which locate land ownedby H. E. Slack, some other Slacks; and Guthries.] A rather mysterious deed is among the papers in the Slack File. It describes a 489.15-acre farm along the Des Moines River in Marion County. I checked its location on a map and found it was a few miles about straight east of Swan in the northwest corner of the county. Reading about this area in an 1880 Marion County history, it described a portion of this tract as belonging to the "Butcher's Prairie," which was considered to be excellent farm land. The mysterious part of the story comes from the fact that the deed shows this land was "sold" to Guy Tyler for the sum of $1.00 and love and affection. The date of the sale was 14 February 1920. This was just one month after Guy and Bea were married. At first, this looks like a wedding present, but I doubt it. It may have been a way of "hiding" property to protect it from creditors. In any case, I am sure that Guy and Bea never lived on that farm and never realized anything from its eventual sale. When Granddaddy obtained the farm and when he sold it, isn't known.
A part of the Island Farm was the "lake property" at the northwest corner of the Island. It was a farm adjacent to the main farm and still had a set of buildings on it. Guy, Bea, Hank, and Sid lived on this farm for a few years, probably from 1925 to early 1928. They had to leave by at least that time, because I was born on July12 of that year in the "red house," which was about 3/4 mile west of the mansion. The family remained at the red house until they moved to Sandyville in 1931.
There were several houses and small farms scattered along the periphery of the Island Farm. These were used to house married farm hands, some of which may have also been engaged in limited sharecropping.
Henry was a sharp businessman, always looking for a good deal and a way to tum a profit. He was constantly involved in the buying and selling of land and livestock. I think the dispersion sale he had in February 1918 was his way of taking advantage of high war-time prices, probably realizing that they would soon come down at the war's end. At least, that's the way it worked out. He was also involved in promoting causes other than the farm. An interesting article in the October 20, 1918, issue of the Des Moines Sunday Registey describes a trip along the newly created Everett Powers Road (Plate X, Fig. 25, H. E. Slack, and Appendix 6). This trip was hosted by Granddaddy, who was apparently one of the primary promoters of this road. The author describes Granddaddy's appeal to a group in Knoxville concerning the need for graveling this new road. Their support was promised, and the group headed back toward Des Moines on a slick, muddy dirt road; a shower had come up during the meeting. This was fortunate, however, because it certainly added emphasis for the need to gravel the road. Granddaddy apparently was well respected, at least by some, in the Warren and Marion County regions.
In January of 1926, Granddaddy legally established The Beatrice Land and Livestock Company (B. L. & L. Co.) (Plate X, Fig. 26- Island Farm, as it appeared at the time of incorporation). He was president and Guy was secretary. Shares were subsequently issued to immediate family members. A copy of a share issued to Bea is shown on Plate XI, Fig. 30. On January 27,1926, H. E. Slack and Florence J. Slack deeded the entire land holdings of the Island Farm to the newly formed company for "$1.00 and other good and valuable consideration." After this transaction, the farm consisted of 728 acres (see Appendixes 5c and 5d).
The last major addition to the Island Farm was made on 23 September 1929. The B. L. & L. Co. purchased the 130-acre Gwinn estate, which was located in an "ox bow" along the south side of the Des Moines River, at the northeast corner of the farm (see Appendixes 5d and 5e). This brought the holdings of the Company to approximately 780 acres (76 acres had been sold earlier in 1926, making a total of 650 acres prior to the Gwinn estate acquisition). See Appendix 7 for an aerial view of the Island Farm region, ca. 1935).
Following World War I, the agricultural economy fell sharply and continued in a downward spiral throughout the 1920s. Agriculture was in a state of depression well before the economic collapse of late 1929. Henry, like many other farmers, found himself overextended with debt and was caught in the recall of mortgages, as the bank at Carlisle failed. Many throughout the region blamed the bank's fall on Granddaddy; a rumor no doubt started by the bank's administrators to cover their own incompetencies.
As the collapse became imminent, the B. L. & L. Company sold the recently purchased 130-acre Gwinn property to Henry's wife, Florence, on 25 March 1930 for $1.00 [Warren Co. Deed Book 87, p. 464; Warren Co. Deed Book 87, p. 499]. Apparently, the loan on the rest of the farm did not include this land, and to protect it from creditors, ownershipwas transferred to a nonmember of the company, Florence. Also included in the transferwas the twenty acres of bluff land just across Middle River from the mansion (see Appendixes 5e and 5f).
When the dust cleared, on July 11, 1930, the bank received ownership of all of the Island Farm, with the exception of the 130- and 20-acre tracts deeded to Florence Slack in March. The 130- acre tract was mostly tillable, and over his remaining years Henry either farmed it himself or rented it out. It proved to be a thorn in his side, because access to it was by a farm road through the original Island Farm. The person who bought the farm from the bank wanted to purchase the 130 acres from Henry, but he wouldn't sell. So, to force the issue, the newowner would periodically lock the gates along the road, denying access to the remote piece of land. His excuse was that Henry's renters or hired men were careless and damaged his crops along the road. Legally, this couldn't be done, and the situation usually wound up in court, with Henry eventually regaining access to his land. This situation occurred several times during the 1930s.
A sale was held sometime in 1930 or early 1931 and all the livestock and most of the machinery and mules were sold. Somehow, Henry was able to recoup sufficient funds to purchase a 280-acre farm 1 mile north of Sandyville, Iowa [Warren Co. Deed Book 87, p. 554, S 1/4,S 1/2 INE1/4, NE 1/4 INE1/4, Sec. 16, Twp. 76, R.22. Florence Slack purchased from H. H. Brown, Rec. of B. F. Henry estate, $5,600,22 January 1931. Warren Co. Deed Book 103, p. 343, SE 1/4, S ½ /NE 1/4, NE 1/4 INE 1/4, Sec. 16,Twp. 76, R.22,16 January 1934, from Florence Slack to Cornelia Switzer, $1,500. This property (the Sandyville farm) was returned to Florence and Henry Slack by Cornelia Switzer on 17 January 1934 for $1.00. It listed as a Special Warranty Deed, Warren Co. Deed Book 106, p. 195. Also, on 16 January 1934, Florence Slack sold the 130-acre bottom farm (remnant of the old Island Farm) to Cornelia Switzer for $1,500 (Warren Co. Deed Book 103, p. 343). The farm was sold back to Florence on 16 August 1935 for the sum of $1.00. I expect the reason for these transactions was to obtain a loan from Aunt Shug Switzer without the formality of a mortgage, the land being held as collateral.]. The farm was placed in Florence's name and then in the name of his sister, Cornelia Switzer, to protect it from creditors (see Appendix 5g). He also retained enough cows, mules, and machinery to begin farming again. Granddaddy and Grandma and Guy, Bea, and their four children moved to the Sandyville farm during the spring of 1931.
The farm was a hill farm and had been poorly managed over the years. There was extensive erosion and depleted soil and the buildings were in a sad state of repair. There was a deeply ravined creek that ran from about the middle of the farm off to the northwest corner. It was heavily forested on each bank with mostly oak and hickory trees. There were five major springs around the farm, thus its name - "Five Springs Farm."
Henry's first order of business was to hire a carpenter (I think his name was Dan Turner; I'm not sure about the last name) and several young men from the Sandyville region. Dan and his helpers remodeled the house, doubling its size, enlarged and renovated the shop and garage (Plate X, Figs. 27-29), built a new-style hog house, and improved the barn. Dilapidated buildings and accumulated clutter were cleared away. Old, rundown fences were pulled out and the wire placed in gullies to retard the severe water runoff. Hog lots were enclosed with woven wire and bred Hampshire sows were obtained for fall farrowing. Apparently, Granddaddy had experienced all of the dairying enterprise he could stand and launched off in a new direction, hog farming.
I don't know where he got his ideas about raising hogs, but his plans were well developed by the time he arrived at Five Springs Farm and he continued using them with little change up to the time of his death, 12 years later. Basically, the sheds were constructed of oak poles (obtained from the farm timberland) set in theground, enclosed on the ends and back, and covered with corrugated steel roofing they were open to the south. Large lots extended to the south of each shed. The sheds were generally about 60 feet in length. I have drawn a diagram frommemory to illustrate their construction.
Henry believed that hogs should not be shut in tight and that they should have ample room to range away from the shed during the growing and fattening periods. Gates were set up temporarily in the sheds to create pens at farrowing time and then removed at weaning time.The sow made her nest in bedding at the back of the stall, and after farrowing, she and her pigs were penned for a short time (3 weeks??), then turned out with other sows and their litters in the large common lot. Eventually, the sows were separated from the pigs and moved to another shed and lot for breeding. Two litters were farrowed each year, early spring and fall.
The pigs were fattened on ear corn, scooped out daily on the ground in front of the shed. They also had access to feeders containing ground oats. I don't think there was much supplement, other than mineral blocks, added to this ration. It took about seven months to fatten them sufficiently for market (around 225 lbs) (see Plate XIII, Figs. 31-33 for photos of the hog raising program). Henry routinely vaccinated against hog cholera shortly after weaning, and male pigs were castrated at about this time. He always used a veterinarian for vaccination, but local castrators performed the castration. One castrator that I remember was Frank Smith, a carpenter, from Sandyville.
Henry's hog-raising program called for hog-tight fences around lots and fields. The fences were constructed of woven wire about 36 inches high. [Vertical and horizontal strands of wire woven together to form 411 squares at the top and decreasing in vertical dimensions to 2”x4” at the bottom.] Posts were split oak from his own timber. The fence was anchored at the corners by oak posts about 18" in diameter, which were set at least four feet deep. Allpostholes were hand dug and hand tamped when the posts were set in place. The posts were set along a strand of barbed wire that had been pulled tight and fastened securely at each corner post 2" above the ground. The woven wire was unrolled flat to the ground along the inside face of the posts and then lifted into place against the posts. At one end, it was securely fastened to a corner post, and at the other end to a stretcher clamp bar. Chains led from the clampbar to a well-anchored come-along crank pulley. The pulley was cranked by hand until the wire was very taught. The wire was held tightly against each post and stapled where each horizontal wire crossed the face of the post. When the distant corner post was reached, the wire was stapled at several locations around the outside and wrapped all the way around the post and wired by its free end to the incoming wire.
Two morestrands of barbed wired were fastened to the comer post, strung tightly abovethe woven wire and stapled to each line post. Each was wrapped around andstapled to the distant comer post and wired to its incoming portion. The bottombarbed-wire strand served to discourage hogs from rooting under the fence andescaping. This, however, was not a foolproof preventative, and escapes wererather frequent. The top two strands were to prevent horses or cattle from jumpingover and/or reaching over the fence for "greener pastures." The laststep was to place two to three paired pickets at intervals between the posts, giving the fence a great deal of stability. The pickets were sawn hardwoodlumber, about 6 feet long by 2.5 inches wide and 3/4 inch thick. The picketswere placed one on each side of the fence and nailed together. The proceduretook two men, one to hold a five-pound mallet on one side of the pickets andthe other to nail them together. The pickets and posts were sawn off evenly at aboutfive feet above the ground. The finished product looked very good and lasted much longer than fences built in the more common way. Most were still quite functional when we left the farm in 1948.
Granddaddy also used a unique gating design. If the gate was to be single, two posts, about 16 feettall and 12 inches thick, were set in the ground about five feet deep at eachside of the gate opening. A double-strand bracing wire (9-gauge) was placed atthe top between the posts and twisted together. The gate was made of sawnhardwood lumber (1"x4.5") and nailed to two-by-fours at each end and in the middle. The gatewas around eight to ten feet long. The spacing between the five boards was,from the bottom, 3, 4, 5, and 6 inches, giving a height of around 48 inches.The gate panel was braced by parallel diagonal 1" x 4" boards. Theone on the free side of the gate ran from the top of the free edge' to thebottom of the middle vertical two-by-four. The other ran from the top of themiddle verticle brace to the bottom of the hinged side. The gate was hung bytwo hinges. Each hinge was composed of two parts and made of thick steel. Afemale end was bolted to the top and bottom boards and to the end two by-four.The male portion, which had an upright, round rod (about 2" long and1" in diameter), was attached to a 1" x 6" long wood screw. This part was screwed into a hole bored into the gate post. They had to beaccurately spaced so they could insert into the hinge portions attached to thegate. Once the gate was hung, the hinges greased, and the swing checked, a fastenerwas installed in the middle of the free edge. This usually was a free-moving,long, metal pin that was inserted into matching holes through the free-edgetwo-by-four brace and the gate post.
Granddaddy made great use of wide lanes connecting one lot with another. A double gate, with a wood panel between them, was placed at both ends of the lane. This allowed closed connection with four other lots or fields. By using the gates and lanes, hogs could be readily herded from one lot to another.
At the end of 1931, Guy decided to start farming for himself, and in March of 1932 he moved his family to a rental farm (probably 360 acres, about 200 tillable) located about 2 miles north, along the road to Hartford (see Appendix 5g). The farm was owned by Cornelia Switzer, Granddaddy's sister. When the split was made, Guy received some livestock, a team of workhorses, probably one or two teams of mules, and machinery, which most likely included a plow, disc, and cultivators.
Granddaddy's economic situation improved slowly, even in the face of a deepening depression and the onset of a drought cycle (1934-1936). In 1934, he purchased a new four-wheel Case Tractor, two-bottom (16" each) plow and disc, and in the fall of 1936 a new Ford V -8 sedan was bought. He continued to add hog lots and hog houses around the farm and increased the number of litters farrowed each year. By 1937, he was marketing 500 to 700 hogs. Every bit of cultivatable land, including the 130 acres left over from the Island Farm, was used to grow corn. Being able to grow most of his feed and with minimal investment in housing and labor, he was able to establish a profit margin, even in the face of disastrous farming conditions. It wasn't great, but he was able to expand his holdings and make improvements. Henry purchased the 80-acre Chambers place, which was located across the road from his farm, in 1939 [Warren Co., Iowa, Deed Records,Book 106, p. 461, 2 February 1939, W 1/2 of W 1/2 of Sec. 15, Twp. 76 (Union Twp.), Rn 22] and moved his farm supervisor Elbert Porter and his family into the house on this property. Interestingly, Mrs. Porter (Edna) was a daughter of the Chambers and probably had been raised on that farm. This was a rough farm, with only about 50 tillable acres. However, there was a good timbered section where two more hog houses and lots were built, and they increased the hog productionby about 200 head.
Early in 1937, Granddaddy bought the Pyle place (168 acres), one mile west of Hartford (see Appendix 5f) [This brought his holdings to 620 acres. Warren Co., Iowa, Deed Records, Book 84, p. 291, N 1/2 /NE 1/4 and pt. SE 1/4 I NW 1/4, Sect. 19; SE 1/4 IS 1/4 and pt. E 3/4/I SW 1/4 I SE 1/4, Sec.18, Twp. 77, RN 22, 15 Feb. 1937. The mechanism for the purchase of the Pyle place is complex. First, Virge Marsh, a friend and neighbor of Henry bought the farm on 15 February 1937 ($9,026), Deed Book 84, p. 291, and then on 22 December sold it to Bea and Guy Tyler for $1.00, Book 106, p. 305. Verge had to be representing Granddaddy in all this. Why? I don't know. Verge's involvement was a complete surprise to me. It was obvious from the very beginning when we moved on the farm in the spring of 1937 that Granddaddy was in charge and he made major changes in the farmstead buildings in the first few months. On 11 October 1940, Bea and Guy deeded the Pyle place farm to H. E. Slack- no money exchanged hands (Warren Co., Iowa, Deed Records, Book 109, p. 385). Granddaddy sold the 26.5 acres attached to the southwest corner of the farm (see Appendix 5f) on 22 April 1942 (Warren Co., Iowa, Deed Records, Book 107, p. 548-$2,000). On 14 February 1945, Grandma disposed of the rest of the Pyle place (no price given) (Warren Co., Iowa, Deed Records, Book 113, p. 444).] He had convinced Guy to move our family to this farm and to supervise its operation.The move was made March 1, 1937. By May, Granddaddy and Guy had decided that they could not work together. We were allowed to continue living there, but Guy was to have nothing to do with the operation of the farm. My brothers, Henry ("Hank") and Sidney, were to help hired hands with the farm work. A Farmal F-20, two-bottom (14") plow and disc were purchased by Granddaddy for the farm. He immediately began improving the buildings and fences and constructing two hog houses and lots. Ten (approximate number) bred sows were brought to the farm in the late summer for the fall farrowing. From this point on, until he left for the Navy in 1942, Hank was essentially in charge of the farm, including the hog operation. Granddaddy bankrolled the operation and, of course, sold the hogs and pocketed the profit. I never knew what Hank got for his effort, but I am sure that he was at least modestly paid. Granddaddy made it known that he was grooming Hank to eventually take over the operation of all his holdings. Sid, who worked only periodically, was probably paid hired hand wages.
Guy returned to his trade as a house painter and paper hanger, but maintained his small dairy herd (about 8 cows), from which the cream was sold. Taking care of and milking these cows was work for all of us boys.
Granddaddy had poor health for many years [Refer to Guy's journal of 1921-22, Tyler File]. He suffered greatly with asthma and was subject to severe responses from respiratory infections. I can still remember the acrid smell of the Asmador fumes he inhaled to open up his bronchial tree. The powder was placed in a small metal canister and lit with a match. He would drape a towel over his head then lean over the smoldering medication, inhaling the fumes. I suppose it must have helped because he continued to use it whenever he had an asthma attack. There were other problems as well, but I never understood just what they were. He and Grandma were always going to doctors and health spas (e.g., Colfax, Iowa- mineral waters [See Grandma's journal, 1938-40]). During the late'30s and into the '40s, Granddaddy's health declined steadily. My mother would go to the Sandyville farm and stay for extended periods while Granddaddy was bedfast. Eventually, he would slowly recover and Bea would return home. In the meantime, we younger children would stay for periods with Aunt Rose and Grandma Tyler in Hartford or, at least, have our lunch with them. Rarely, Aunt Rose would come out and stay with us at the farm. Those periods when Bea was away were always stressful for the whole family.
His last illness was in January of 1943. The weather was bitter cold and it was decided that I would accompany Bea to help out around the house, e.g., keep fires burning, bring water from the well, empty wastes, etc. I was 14 1/2 and in the 9th grade. I remember taking my world history book with me to study. Since Bea was to sleep in the bedroom next to Granddaddy's room, I was given the old couch [Grandma had inherited the couch from her mother. It was the one that Grandma's brother, Horace, died on. It is now owned by my brother Steve] in the diningroom. Even with piles of covers on me, I can still recall how cold I was. When we arrived, Granddaddy was barely conscious and soon slipped into a coma, from which he never awoke. I think it was on the subsequent night that Bea woke me (it was after midnight) and asked me to come to his bedroom. She and Grandma were crying, as we stood by his bed and looked down at his still form. I remember feeling very empty and sad and I am sure I must have cried too. Granddaddy died at 12:45 a.m. on January 21, 1943.
The funeral was two days later on the 23rd and was held in the home at the Sandyville farm. The weather had moderated and was mostly sunny. Many relatives and friends came; the front room and kitchen were filled. I don't remember the service, other than Bea playing several hymns on Grandma's organ. The casket was in the livingroom at the front window, and Hank's picture (he was in the Pacific in the Navy) was sitting on it. One thing that pervades my memory of this time was the persistent moaning noise made by the turning of the windmill north of the house.
At the time of his death, Granddaddy's land holdings totaled about 680 acres.
The Island Farm came to a sad end. In 1964, the farm was condemned because the land would be periodically flooded as a part of the flood pool for the Red Rock Dam that was being built across the Des Moines River and valley near Pella, Iowa. It was a sad thing to see when I went with my brother, Henry, for a last look in December of 1964. The mansion stood open and the interior had been ransacked. The huge silos were empty and their great doors swung freely in the wind. The following spring, all the buildings were demolished, leaving no trace of Granddaddy's great dream(see Appendix 8). Today, the land is rented out by the Federal Government and farmed when conditions aren't too wet.
Florence Josephine Guthrie Slack
Was born on December 3, 1867, at her parents farm near Hartford, Iowa. She was the last of nine children born to Newton and Fanny(Truitt) Guthrie. Her mother was 43 years old at the time of her birth; her father was 45.
David Tyler:
When Grandma was around seventy years old, she wrote a brief, but very descriptive account of her childhood, which I am incorporating at this point.
It's apparent from reading this delightful history below that "Josie" was a precocious child who thoroughly enjoyed life. She deeply loved her parents, and greatly admired her father. She was a tomboy and shared many adventures with her brother Elmer, who was just three years her elder. Unfortunately, Grandma wrote no more about her life other than a short 1930s journal (Cont'd to Mother Bea) |
