Et cetera : Notes from the Past: Reminiscences

Reminiscences

By T. S. Palmer

Los Angeles, Cal., Nov. 10, 1904

Editor of the Eagle:

Dear Sir - I received your request to send some items of early history of Vinton and Benton Counties. In doing so I will make it as brief as possible, as the nature of the case demands,

I arrived in Fremont (now Vinton) early in April 1852. Only about a dozen families were there at that time. Out of that number only one or two persons are alive today. During the summer months others came in, forming quite a little colony. That fall was noted for the "Indian raid," and the battle of Big Creek, which terminated the war. A recent arrival claimed to be a noted Indian fighter, gathered in about a dozen loose fellows, formed a company of White Braves, gathered in all the old rusty rifles and marched with flying colors to meet the foe. Arriving at Big Creek (now LaPorte City) where the Indians were reported to be camped, instead of the foe, they found an old scamp standing guard over a barrel of whisky. They charged bravely, captured the whisky, and well - the whisky captured our army, and as their general reported, they laid dead for nearly twenty-four hours- dead drunk. No Indians being in sight or heard of, our brave army came marching back one or two at a time. The war ended, peace was restored and our braves never heard the last of the victory.

Another affair of a different character occurred that summer. The first Fourth of July celebration was held in Benton County. On that morning Squire Rice crossed the river, came in early and a few of us were talking about the Fourth, when I said to the squire, "Why can't we have a celebration?" The old brave studied about ten seconds, raised his head and said, "We can, and we will." All present said the same, and the celebration was commenced. The squire at the lead, rustled around and getting their wives interested, they went to baking and cooking. A man was sent out to arouse the neighbors, and by two or three o'clock we had an abundance of everything we wanted. I had been building a storeroom for a business house and had it only partly enclosed. We laid a loose floor and erected a table and seats the whole length of the building. Russell Jones got the linen for the tablecloth. I had a lot of lemons, candy, raisins, etc., dishes were brought from the houses, and, well, the old settlers know what the women can do when aroused. When all was ready I nominated our old friend, Squire Rice, president of the day. He went in with a rush. John Kelsey was reader of the Declaration of Independence. All went off finely and in perfect order.

Another matter of much importance occurred in February 1853 - the burning of the courthouse. J. C. Traer and James Johnson were sleeping upstairs in the court room. I was in my store on Jefferson street, opposite, when about midnight I was awakened by Johnson banging at the door, saying the courthouse was on fire. I dressed as rapidly as possible and found the building all on fire on the first floor. The courtroom was above as well as all the books and records of the county. The only entrance to the courtroom was an outside stair on the east end of the building. The wind coming from the west, drove the smoke over the stairs. To get upstairs we had to pass through a dense body of hot smoke. It was impossible to carry the books and papers down these stairs. We found a long scantling and raising one end to an upper window, we slid the books and papers down this joist to the ground. In this way all the records were saved. Before this was done. the flames had burst out from below, enveloped the whole side of the building. Then the point was how the men were to get out safely. The stairs were choked with hot smoke and flames had captured the side. Johnson chose the stairs and fell to the ground before getting down. The people below rushed in and dragged him out and saved him. Dr. Traer got on to the scantling to slide down, but in doing so threw the scantling off the upper window, but fortunately for me, it caught on the lower window, so I shoved my feet out first, dropping through the flame, I lit on the plank and dropped to the ground. We were all injured, but Johnson fared the worst. He never recovered but died about three months after - a true

friend and a grand, good man. Traer and myself took violent colds, which lasted several months, but we saved the records of Benton County. If Traer and Johnson had not been sleeping in the court room that night, all would have been lost.

These are the bare facts in the above case, and although true, we never got credit for the risk we ran.

There are many things that might interest your readers which occurred during my thirty years' sojourn in the county. Only a few of my oldest and best friends are now living. I have taken the Eagle since its first issue. It has followed me through my wanderings, and I have kept track of many old friends as they have passed away. I have a record of them filed in a scrap book; year after year, one by one have gone to reap a just reward. I am now in my eightieth year and will soon follow.

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