We, the Monroe Stewarts, Monroe, Hannah, Edith and Effie, came from Pennsylvania to Kansas in the winter of 1878. Settling near Manhattan, Kansas. Monroe had it in mind to come west, make a little stake, then return to Pennsylvania, and buy a farm and settle down for life. However, his first visit back in Pennsylvania convinced him that he could never be satisfied there, after living in Kansas where the fields and pastures are so vast. We lived in Kansas until April 1889 when the first land in the Indian Territory was to be opened April 22 to homesteaders. Three families, consisting of Monroe Stewarts, Uncle Robert McCalls, (Uncle Robert was a brother of Grandmother, Jane McCall Stewart) and a neighbor family, Uriah Stumbos. We started on our trek April 11, 1889. Our caravan consisted of Monroe Stewart with six children and Uncle Orrin, each driving a Concord wagon, Hannah driving a team of colts, just broken, to the spring wagon with no cover. Stumbos had two covered wagonsIn our crew there were eight adults, 17 children, seven teams of horses, one colt, one saddle pony, one loose horse, four dogs, a bunch of milk cows, and three crates of chickens. While traveling either Monroe first in line, then Hannah, then Orrin or Orrin first, then Hannah, then Monroe always keeping Hannah between the wagons. We usually camped at night near a town and by a stream, where we could get water for the stock. We hauled our camp outfit in the spring wagon where it could be easily unloaded and a team could hitch on and drive into town for grain and hay for the stock or other needed supplies.
When we go down into the Indian Territory at the Salt Fork River, the water was too high to ford. (There were only Indian wagon trails and no bridges anyplace). We were forced to camp by this river for several days before we could cross. In the mean time, while delayed, the opening of Oklahoma Territory took place and we didn't arrive in Oklahoma until April 27th. This was quite a disappointment to the men folds as the opening was very unusual, in fact the first of its kind ever made. (I remember of three more made in the same way.)
To be eligible to homestead, one must be a United States citizen, aged 21 years or over, if married only the man could homestead, although a widow or single woman was eligible. Any one who had been in or entered this land six months previously to the opening, could not homestead. They were to race for the land. The first to stop on a quarter section, and put up a flag was entitled to it. A handkerchief or shirt or anything put up where it could be plainly seen could answer for a flag. If one found a place already occupied he must go on to another place. A starting line was established and all had to wait outside this line until the signal was given to go.
At noon, April 22, 1889, a gun was fired and everyone ran. Some on foot, some horseback, some in buggies, some in wagons, some bicycles, some with families, some oxen driven with all their possessions. A wonderful sight from reports we got first hand.
After looking over the country for a couple of weeks, Uncle Robert McCall and Uncle Orrin found homesteads. Monroe bought a fellow out and got his homestead. Mr. Stumbo did not get any homestead so he built a little store. They were all within about two miles of each other. The Monroe Stewart homestead is still owned by his grandchildren, the Bridenstine boys, Earl and Val.
We moved onto this homestead on May 11, 1889. One of God's great creations, trees, grass and beautiful wild flowers. No fences, no well, no houses or even plowed land. Nothing married by man's hands. For a time we camped near the road out in the open on a beautiful spot of grass and flowers. We cooked on a campfire, spreading our tablecloth on the ground for our meals, and sleeping in the wagons. We hauled water in the spring wagon from a spring of good soft water, two miles distance. We girls herded the cows on the grass, driving them one half mile to the Cimarron river for water. Finally Uncle Orrin's wagon was unloaded, which contained mostly farming implements, leaving the bed in the top box under the cover. Then Monroe and Orrin drove to Guthrie, the nearest railroad station - 22 miles - taking two days for the trip. I remember only three thing they brought in that first load - a tent, a cook stove and some barbed wire. The wire was for a corral for the cows. Now we could really live. We put up the tent and set up the little stove and still had room in the tent to make a bed on the ground floor, making more sleeping room in the wagons.
It was late in the season and with everything to do first we didn't get much planting done to raise winter feed for the stock. However there was plenty of good wild grass, so we put up a supply of hay.
Sunday School was organized that first summer at a place we named "Forest City", where Mr. Stumbo had his store and where we hauled water from. There under the trees, with logs and boards for seats we had our Sunday School and thought nothing about walking that two miles to attend.
That first summer, Stumbos had a son born July 12, 1889, and they named him "Forest" after the city. Then on August 16, 1889, my brother, Harold was born. Nothing strange or exciting about there being no doctor or hospital within 25 miles. Things went on as best they could, like riding horse back 2 miles to grind a pound of coffee on a neighbor's coffee mill, etc.
That first fall, there being so many children in the community, the neighbors went together and built a little log school house and hired a teacher for three months. The school house had two half windows on either side, a door in the south end and saw dust on the floor. Imagine what it was to drop a pencil or when the door stood open and a gust of wind came in. A little saw mill had been set up in the vicinity and we had slabs for seat and desks, each pupil used whatever school books he may have brought with him from the many states. The school house was called "The Wild Horse School", being located by the Wild Horse creek. We learned later, it was the first rural school to be built in Oklahoma. We attended this school two years before being divided into districts, which put us in another district. This little Wild Horse School House was more centrally located in our social gatherings. We had literacy, spelling bees, ciphering matches, and socials.
I remember one social especially. We needed to raise a little money for some purpose, so we had a "Mush & Milk Social". The school house was too small so we had it outside under the trees. One neighbor, a heavy set man and a former butcher in Kansas went about crying, "Hot Mush, 5 cents!" It was so inexpensive and we made some money and Oh what fun! We were all poor alike and dressed in calico.
Effie Stewart Thatcher, August 1963.