Submitter’s note: This story was written by Sophia Lucas Vossmeyer and can be found in “Brown County Remembers,” a Brown County Historical Society publication. You may purchase a copy of “Brown County Remembers” in the gift shop located on the lower level of the Brown County History Center, 70 Gould St.
I never knew of any elderly persons to be neglected, however poor, when I was a child.
They often lived out their lives in their own homes, cared for by children yet unmarried. Often married children took their parents in their homes, even if crowded. In some cases, young married children moved temporarily into the larger parents’ home and cared for them until they died.
My great-grandfather, Thomas Lloyd Lucas, died in 1873. His wife Louisa, after a few years, married a kindly old man whom we knew as granddaddy Combs. When Louisa died in 1891, we made Granddaddy feel welcome. He divided his time between us and his family in Jackson County until we were of school age, and he became disabled.
My brother Clarence, my sister and I remember him well. He held all three of us on his lap at one time. He allowed us to braid his long white whiskers, which grew to his belt buckle. He liked the attention and sometimes would fall asleep.
Then there was the county farm and home plan, which I thought was good. I very much disliked the degrading names given to those places: “Poor farm” and “poor house.” Those tenants usually were destitute, sick and, many times, totally alone. In the county home they were never cold, hungry or lonely, nor had to work if they were not able and they had a doctors’ care.
I can remember the big white house in Nashville which sheltered these people. It stood on east main street across from the Green Lawn Cemetery. That house still stands in a lovely grove of maple trees. The building is now used for another purpose, as the central office of the Brown County Board of Education.
My memory takes me back to a trip our family took to Nashville in a big farm wagon to deliver apples, pears, squashes and pumpkins as gifts to the county home.
This leads me to another memory, and that is about the big farm wagon. It was new when dad got it and had the big name of “Studebaker” in bright paint on its sideboards. It had been delivered to Alra Wheelers big country store at Storyville (now Story) from South Bend, Indiana. The wagon, like other farm machinery, was delivered by the huckster of that day to the county farmers.
Later, Studebaker built the Studebaker automobiles. Our family was invited for a visit inside the big white house. We saw bare wooden floors scrubbed clean. Also, there was a very long wooden table shinny and clean. Long benches sat beside the table. Several people sat in big hickory rocking chairs. The kitchen was busy with women cooking, canning, preserving and baking bread. Men were working out in the fields harvesting the grain, caring for cattle, pigs and chickens to provide food for the home.
Some men and women were hired hands and others were tenants able to work. The work by the tenants helped to make the home self-supporting.
This story and the one to follow will serve to disprove an old saying which speaks of “putting old people and horses out to pasture to starve.”
Old Barney was an old gray horse, nearly blind, which Grandfather Hedrick gave to us for light work and for us children to enjoy as our mother had in the past.
We led him all over the pasture by bridle. Later he followed us wherever we went without a bridle. We learned various ways to climb on his back. He would never move one step without command for fear of stepping on us. My daring brother learned to climb up by Barney’s head and neck to his back and slide down over his tail. With some help I tried it, but I didn’t repeat. In fact, old Barney became a plaything. We felt that Barney was a happy horse who watched and waited for us to come into the barn lot. Then sadly there came a time when our father reported that old Barney was not well and we watched him carrying medicine out to the shed where old Barney had a soft carpet of straw on which he could lie.
Dad always consulted the big, old doctor book, which great-grandfather had left in the big house. This book told how to treat both sick people and sick animals. Mother always read that book too when she waited for dad to bring the doctor when anyone was sick.
In a few days the report came that old Barney had died and had been given a decent burial. We children knew what death and burial meant because we had mourned several dead birds and chickens. We sure did miss old Barney so very much.
— Submitted by Pauline Hoover, Brown County Historical Society
