Women of The Ranch
Throughout the past 100 years the gals on the ranch have played an integral role in keeping it running smoothly. Their jobs have been diversified; they’ve kept watchful eyes on their children, cooked meals for men in the field, sewed and mended clothing, shuttled children to and from school activities, harnessed teams of mules, entertained on a regular basis, mowed lawns, milked cows, orchestrated style shows for their local women’s club, made butter, changed the oil in their vehicles, hosted bridge parties,drove tractors, put up hay, baked pies for church dinners, taught Sunday school class, put up jams jellies and preserves, groomed the hair of their kid’s 4-H show calves before grooming their own, kept their homes clean, and their families fed, the list goes on. In a nutshell their lives are busy, diversified and eclectic. If you like structure, you probably wouldn’t enjoy being a girl on the ranch.
Emily
Emily Ware was born in Jackson County, Ohio in 1852. She married John Marcus Chain in 1870 in Ohio. The young couple would later board the Emigrant Train with four of their little sons and make their way to Haven, Kansas. Memoirs of her state that she spent her strength and life as a wife and devoted mother to her family. She died at the age of 64. Raising this large family must have been an exhausting task. They would loose their only daughter, Jeanette, of Typhoid fever when she was only 16 years old. John Marcus Chain’s mother and father, John and Eleanor farmed and ranched around 900 acres during the early 1800′s in Waverly, Ohio near Yankee Hill. John Marcus’ obituary states that he was a “Christian gentleman”…A Legacy Doesn’t Get Any Better Than That.
Laura
Laura was a Hickok, as in Wild Bill. Her father was Hiram Hickok, her mother, Zerilda. In fact she told stories of her family receiving a black letter (probably a mourning card) announcing Wild Bill’s death when she was a little girl. I don’t remember her, but I feel her in me. She loved to garden, and cook and had a sense of humor. Her garden always contained beautiful morning glories and sunflowers. My dad relates fond memories of her; She didn’t like to go places, only to church. She and my Grandma Grace would cook for thrashing and silo filling crews feeding crews of 15-20 men. Her sister, Mary, owned a cook shack which she traveled around in cooking for crews in the field. She loved her turkeys and always had several hens each spring. She would let them run in the pasture during the day and as a little boy she would send my dad out to spy on them to see where they laid their eggs. She would mark the nest and later bring the eggs in to hatch. She loved chickens, Plymouth Rocks. He remembers a certain drawer that held a tin containing sponge cake wrapped in a towel. She also liked to make angel food cakes. He said he could always go to that tin and get a piece of cake. She always canned and had an orchard next to her house. He can’t remember ever buying a loaf of bread because she made all of it, along with homemade butter. She milked cows and sold cream. She never scolded him and he said he spent more time at her house than he did his own home. For 25 years he was blessed with these enjoyable times. He recalls a baseball mit she made for him out of heavy striped canvass material from a mattress. She thought it was wonderful…it looked like a boxing glove and he was embarrassed to use it. She also made a scrapbook for him out of cloth, filling it with pictures of cattle. He would later add to that bovine scrapbook collection: I have them today. When she was in her seventies she tripped over an old cat and fell down the steps of her house breaking her hip. She would never recover from the fall. My dad said she never complained, and always just enjoyed life.
The drawer that kept the tin of cake and the steps she fell from are still here today–my son and his family live in her home.
Grace Dot
She didn’t mind helping groom my dad’s show calves which were consistent winners (some national) during those days.
Grandma Grace and friends crossing the North Canadian River Bridge
“Married With Children”; my dad, my Aunt Mo, my Grandparents and my Aunt Darrell
Grandma Grace. That’s what I called her. I lived at her house; hers and my Aunt Mo’s. I would walk through the tree row back and forth between her house and mine several times a day…it was 1/2 mile one-way, no wonder I gained weight when I started school. She was a lady. When I knew her she was entertaining preachers, senators, having “club”, and making Sunday dinners. I didn’t know her when she milked cows,fed silo crews and groomed show calves…I only knew her as a quiet loving woman, always well mannered and well groomed, quiet and smiling. She could play the piano, something not many people knew. She was always in constant conflict with Grandad Lenard’s “stink bait” and entertaining “Club” ladies. Club consisted of a woman’s group that met once a month at different ladies homes. Those meetings revolved around raising funds to keep the local cemetery’s outhouse intact, playing bridge or canasta, wearing dresses with heels and sometimes a hat, enjoying group renditions of “April Showers” and other popular tunes of the day plus GREAT refreshments. I miss those days. She taught me to sew giving me a Singer when I was 12. My love of sewing I credit to her. She didn’t mind giving me “whippins” when I needed. She would eventually raise two grandsons,with the loss of her eldest daughter and husband in a plane crash in 1963. I loved her. She taught me so many things through quiet example.
Grandma, and The Ladies of The Lake
Each year for many, many, years my grandparents would travel with some friends from the community to the Lake of The Woods on the border of Canada. The men would fish for Pike and Walleye and the women would do women things (like straw hat painting; they all spray painted their large straw sun hats and decorated them with sequins and beads??) I went fishing. Tincy (center and sitting) was the owner of the cabins where they all stayed. Her place could only be reached by boat or float plane. I was infatuated with Tincy. She was a female Marlin Perkins-Survivor Man cross, mixed with a little Martha Stewart; a self sufficient widow who made do with no electricity, shot bears, sustained herself with fish and wild rice and had a flair for entertaining. I don’t know what happened to her. When age terminated my grandparent’s trips up north, we lost track. Most of the “Ladies of The Lake” are gone, but memories of them are as clear to me as a Tevo rerun.
Darla Ann
My Mom. She was hot…still is! She was a town girl transplanted to the country. That urbane quality still remains, never faltering: not through tracked in manure on her aqua-marine colored carpet, or spilled harvest meals on the camper floor, or years of daily hired men feedings, or keeping my dad nurtured and his schedules completed, or caring for elderly in-laws. She’s remains a classy lady, funny, fun-loving and clever. She still remains a little bit country, a little bit rock n’ roll. Speaking of rock n’ roll; she taught me to jitterbug. As a city girl turned country, she could probably write a book about her experiences on the ranch.
What A Beauty!
More on Mom
Wymola
Girls Just Want To Have Fun!
Pictured above: My Aunt Mo, My Aunt Darell and friend. My aunts were raised in the house that I now live. My Aunt Mo and her husband spent their lives on the ranch up until their death. Aunt Darell married and moved away but still has vivid memories of growing up on the ranch.
If she were here today, I’m pretty sure my Aunt Mo would kill me for sharing this! Or I might get a “lickin” (the Chain women’s term for whoopin…or spankin…or paddlin.) I spent most of my days with her, until the summer of 63 when she and my Uncle Lloyd and another couple were killed in an airplane crash. I remember that day as if it were yesterday. She too, taught me so many things that I’ll never forget. She was a lady, always well dressed, feisty, talkative, always teaching me a few manners…which I’m sure I needed, and spoiling me rotten. I still miss her.