When Fannie and I had sold our first cotton crop of a bale apiece. Ma had let us spend the money for saddles. They were the best to be had in Stephenville and had cost us fifty dollars each, which was a mighty high price for two poor farm girls to pay. Also we bought black calico and made long riding skirts to wear over our calico dresses. Now we were riding to Thurber on our new saddles and were taking our dotted-swiss dresses to wear at the celebration. We were mighty proud of those dresses, though the swiss was so sleazy you could pitch straws through it clean across the room. Also we had new shoes and hats. When Ma finally said we could start, we saddled up and got under way, two mighty proud girls with three days of pleasure before us. It was about a ten mile ride from our farm to [near Huckabay] to Thurber, a coal-mining town located on the Texas and Pacific Railway. More than six thousand men were employed at the mine, which was owned by the railroad. Practically all the workers were foreigners, most of them Italians. They bought all their food and clothing at the company store, [they didn’t have a choice] and were hard workers and good spenders. We were told they were always in debt to the company. This made the farmers think them a mighty sorry bunch. Fannie and I made the trip to Thurber in record time. We wanted to get to Addie’s a little ahead of time so that we could change our clothes and be in the prime of condition when the crowd arrived. On the way we found the roads filled with farm people from miles around. The three-day barbecue was free to everybody, with pickles, light bread, and the finest of barbecued meats. Everyone I knew except Ma and two other old ladies made the trip and stayed until the last pickle was gone. Most of the time we were in Thurber, Fannie and I were to be found at the dancing pavilion. It was built up about two feet from the ground and had a rough board floor for dancing. The roof was made of brush, which stood up fine during the first day. But about the middle of the second day the leaves began to wilt, and the sun blazed down on the dancers. It was mighty hot, and the outcome was by the third day I was a sight to behold. My dotted-swiss dress was more wilted than the leaves, and every inch of my upper body that wasn’t protected by my corset cover was simply blistered.”

more tomorrow

Fannie wasn’t any beauty, though she was considered the better looking of the young Sanders girls. She had a beautiful figure and nice feet, while I was inclined to be a little more than pleasantly plump. Her hair was a platinum white and she wore it short, even though it wasn’t considered the proper thing then. There were times when she even went so far as to have it clipped off and her temples shaved. While Fannie was gone after the mule, I kept on working, and when I saw her coming back, she was a sight that overshadowed anything I’ve ever seen for comedy. There she sat astride that old white mule, her short hair blowing in the wind and her long legs almost touching the ground. The old mule was pacing for all he was worth and letting out bray after bray. Every time he brayed, his tail stuck out straight behind him. Hee-haw! Hee-haw! Hee-haw! Fannie was hanging on for dear life, and the mule braying louder with every step. I laughed until I could hardly get my breath. Then I sorter got my wind and laughed some more. We finished the laying by before dark and gave the horses plenty of feed so they’d be fit for the trip to Thurber. We took out Saturday night bath a little ahead of time and put our hair up in curlers. It was mighty late before we got to bed. We were both dog tired, but that didn’t matter. It was the usual thing. We had surely given the cornpatch fits that day. Next morning we were up before daylight, brought in wood for Ma, and did all the other work we could find. It was too early to start, and we just couldn’t keep still. more tomorrow

1890s – “Ma hired a hand to do the heavy plowing and put the crop in. This gave Fannie and me [Sue Sanders] a little spare time, and so we began to think about keeping company. We managed by hook or by crook to get a beau apiece. I wouldn’t want to say they were the best, but from what I’ve seen of males since then, they weren’t the worst, not by a long shot. They took us to dances, of which there were two or three a year in out neighborhood. Even though we had a hand to help us, Fannie and I still worked like men. We did the laying by, which is the hardest and hottest work of all. Ma promised us that if we finished laying by the corn [plowing over the weeds] in time for the Fourth of July, we could go to Thurber, where my sister Addie lived, for the three-day celebration being given. There was to be dancing every day and night of the celebration. This would be the biggest treat we had ever had. So we lit right into the work to finish in time. We hit the [lowing at daylight and fought the horses right on through the day with only half an hour off at noon. Up and down the rows of high corn, hour after hour, we were visible only when we swung our plows around at the end of a row. About two hours by sun of the last day, Fannie’s poor old horse up and quit. He was plumb give out, and wasn’t good for any more plowing that day. Unless we both plowed until dark, we couldn’t finish up, and unless we finished, we’d miss one day of the festivities. Fannie unharnessed her horse, watered him, and got enough life in him to get over to a neighbor’s to borrow another horse. The neighbor was also getting ready to go to Thurber and didn’t have a horse to spare, but he lent Fannie an old white mule.” more tomorrow

While stealing horses from Jones Barbee, eight Comanches wounded his slave [name unknown]. Later in the day the same Indians met and killed a man names Bean and killed his black slave. [Comanches said that they killed slaves because they felt sorry for their situation]. Later on Resley’s Creek, the same raiding party killed Peter Johnson and captured his son – who later recovered.

Dan Young, Erath History Calendars

In Jose Maria’s later years he protected Anglo immigrants from the Comanches and was a friend to early Stephenville. In 1839 Benjamin Bryant commanded a company of 48 men looking for Indians that had raided in Milam County. They encountered and attacked Jose Maria and an equal number of riders, mistaking them for Comanches. “The noted Jose Maria, who was riding in front in perfect nonchalance, halted, slipped off his gloves, and taking deliberate aim, fired at Joseph Boren, who was a few feet in advance, cutting his coat sleeve. “Jose Maria was shot in the breast bone early in the fight – but commanded his men well. The fight ended with the Anadarkos [not Comanches] chasing the Anglos from the field, killing ten of them and wounding five. The Indians losing the same number. Jose Maria, so long the dread of the frontier, but afterwards the most pacific and civilized Comanche chief on the government reserve, has always acknowledged that he was whipped and retreating until he observed the panic and confusion among the Texans. Jose Maria visited Bryant’s Station [named for Benjamin Bryant] years later and offered Bryant his pipe to smoke. Bryant insisted that Jose Maria should smoke first, as he had won the fight, and the old chief proudly followed the suggestion.”

James DeShields, Border Wars of Texas, Waco: Texian Press, 1912, 1976.

1874: Followed by “citizens in hot pursuit,” a large body of Indians thought to be Comanche raided from the Leon River to within six miles of Stephenville. They escaped toward the Northwest with a large number of horses and an Anglo woman. Waco Examiner

In early January of 1901, “Thurber was the scene of a real elopement. Mr. W.P. White, the Jolly night fireman at the ice plant, secured a buggy and drove around to the house of a friend were he met by appointment, Miss Susan Rogers. They drove down to the Junction (Mingus) and boarded the west bound noon train for Eastland. Arrived there they immediately repaired to the county clerk’s office, procured a license, and lost no time in having the nuptial knot tied.” Texas Mining and Trade Journal

In July, 1887, The Rube Burrow gang rode from Cottonwood Springs, near Alexander, to rob the train at Gordon. “As the train pulled out of the statin, Rube and Henderson Bromley mounted the engine and ordered the engineer and fireman to stop 500 yards east. After some shooting they broke into the express car and escaped with $4,000 – back to Erath County where they pretended to be farmers, the better to allay suspicion.” Dan Young, Historical Calendar, 1987.

Before the 1880’s the growth of little bluestem grass was “so tall and thick that tender green sprouts grew under it as in a hothouse throughout the most severe winter, attracting countless geese, ducks, and pigeons which swelled the winter’s abundant food supply.” (Julia Kathryn Garrett, Fort Worth: A Frontier Triumph, Austin: The Encino Press, 1977) In January, 1936, the Empire-Tribune noted that a soil survey found that up to 75% of Erath County’s topsoil had been lost due to management.

In 1880, friends of the notorious gunman Bob Hollis attempted to rescue him from the Stephenville jail. His stocks were broken, his irons cut, and a hole was burned through the lower jail floor when the rescue was discovered. Fort Worth Democrat