Eliza Jane Shepard (August 25, 1884 - October 18, 1982)

My Father's Mother, Grandma Jane, lived all her long life on farms. Most of it on 217 acres two miles north of Crestline and a quarter mile west. Her young life was spent on a farm over by Mound hill on the Missouri line on the road to Carl Junction. Her parents and other relatives are buried there and I remember going with her to clean graves as a young child. Though she was born on the frontier, she was a direct descendant of pioneers. Her family left her and her sister several land claims, some of which were sold off during the depression. Lucretia Elizabeth Shepard, (March 25, 1883 - June 4 1957), her sister (Aunt Lue) lived on a 160 acre farm about three miles east of her. Their parents: Daniel Shepard (May 21, 1833-February 2, 1892) and Lavinia Caroline (Kitty) Thompson (June 13, 1846-April 12, 1886) died when both girls were quite young. They then went to live with a brother and sister of their mother: Hugh L. Thompson (August 22, 1842-March 8, 1908) and Melinda Jane Thompson (September 6, 1848-December 4, 1929). Their Grandmother also lived with them: Lucretia Elizabeth Boyd (October 15, 1821-February, 1905). I'd always heard that the girls were home schooled, but have a picture of an elementary school class which is labeled as one which Grandma Jane attended. Aunt Hulda told me they attended a grade school just before they went to live with their Aunt and Uncle.

Grandma Jane and Aunt Lue when they were probably around 16. Grandma is on the right. Notice the badges worn over their hearts showing family support for the GAR and the Republican Party.

This was the young woman that Grandad Leonard married. In her early 20s I suspect.

Note: See Grandad Leonard and My Father for data on them and Aunt Linda (Dad's full Sister). Grandma Jane and Grandad Leonard were divorced long before I was born. Her second husband was a first generation Swedish-American, Thor Mineor Anderson, Sep. 17, 1890-Aug. 27, 1955, (Harry Gene's Uncle) who I always knew as Grandad Tory. My brother Tim was given his middle name which gives you an idea of how we all loved this man. They had one daughter, Hulda Jane Anderson (March 31, 1924-?) who married a Richard Rhude and produced one daughter, Susan Jane Rhude (July 14, 1953-2002) who died with colon cancer around the same time as my mother passed away.

Grandma Jane and Grandad Tory with my brother Tim and Hulda's daughter Susan in about 1954. I think the dress Grandma is wearing is home-sewn from commercial feed sacks which came in different prints and were saved and used for various purposes. Grandad Tory is wearing the work shirt, denim overalls and rawhide work shoes which is the only outfit I recall ever seeing on him. Dressing up to him was putting on a new pair of overalls (which he called overhauls). The workshoes were waterproofed with copious amounts of used motor oil which was never discarded and always had to be painted on all tools and implements after use and before storage. Among many others, rust was a big enemy of the farmer.

I spent lots of time "farmed out" to these grandparents so have many memories of them. Grandma Jane's life centered around church, garden and preparing and eating food. She was a conservative Republican and categorized people as good Christians, good workers, scalawags, ruffians or do nothings. She was a strong, aware woman who followed current events and enjoyed discussing them. From 5am until 9pm every day she moved from task to task at a slow methodical pace. She milked cows twice a day, seven days a week most of her life and had a steel grip that I experienced when I did something that didn't suit her. In the early years until REA brought electricity to the countryside in the late 40s they used kerosene lamps and wood/coal burning stoves. During the summers an iceman delivered twice a week to keep the iceboxes cool. They had a car battery powered radio attached to a generator on a windmill outside, and I remember sitting around it during the evenings listening to Jack Benny, Charlie McCarthy, Fibber McGee etc. She made her own lye soap in a big black cauldron out back of the house. She took me around the area gathering wild greens and I can still identify most of them from those lessons so long ago. She made and gave me sassafras tea to thin my blood for summer and a sweet cough syrup from some sort of cactus and honey to treat my winter coughs. I spent countless hours wandering around the pastures, fields and the pond with a single shot 22. I shot snakes at the pond and rats in the henhouse (and almost anything wild that moved since farmers saw wildlife as competition). I learned to drive pickups, tractors and trucks so early that I barely remember not knowing how. In the winter we all slept upstairs nestled in feather ticks which she made from chicken feathers. During summer in those days before air conditioning we moved to beds on the big screened in porch. I still remember the smell from the kraut crock which always seemed to be fermenting on the porch. To control vermin, the barn was populated with domestic (feral) cats which were too wild to play with and always had litters in the hayloft. They would gather at each milking to get a ration from the teat. One night when Grandma couldn't sleep because of an amorous pair of these cats in a tree not far from the porch she took the target rifle (as they called it) and a flashlight out and shot one of them out of the tree.

Aunt Lue married a man named John Farley and they produced two daughters, Helen Jane Farley (January 26, 1909-September 8, 2005) and Elva Ruth Farley (September 4, 1911-June 2004). These daughters went to Wichita during the second war and worked for Boeing all their lives. Neither ever married. Everyone always referred to them as the Farley girls. Since Grandma Jane was 98, Aunt Linda was 91, Ruth was 92 and Helen was 96, one may assume Cristina has a shot (genetically at least) at quite a long life. By the way, Aunt Linda died peacefully in her sleep still with her own teeth, but her mind was slipping. Grandma Jane kept a sharp mind up until the end when she simply died of old age. I could ramble on and on, but I'll make this my last anecdote: Much of the last 20 plus years of Grandma's life were spent alone. Aunt Linda was with her the last few years. When daylight-saving time was introduced she never accepted it. When planning to visit it'd have to be cleared up on the phone whether one would be there at a certain hour, her time or the new time.

One of the last pictures taken of Grandma Jane (with her favorite cat). Typical with her homemade bonnet and apron and the ever present hoe or walking stick. This was out by the county road in front of the farmhouse.

One never forgets how good food tasted as a child. The highlights I remember from the early years on the farm were fresh pork tenderloin after butchering (usually for breakfast); strawberry shortcake in season; hand-cranked ice cream which never seemed to be ready; home-baked lightbread (especially with sidemeat ((bacon)); fried chicken (young pullets); the wild greens I mentioned above, usually eaten with a dash of vinegar; and roasted ears of corn in season (small window) which were actually boiled and called rostaneers. Grandma canned (usually garden vegetables, but also fruit ((whole, or as jam or preserves)) and some meat) several times a year. Few visitors ever left the farm without samples. In summer large amounts of iced tea were consumed. Cistern water was always available in a bucket with a dipper closeby. Fresh creamy cow's milk was always there too and sometimes tasted of wild onions or whatever the cows were eating at the time.

In closing I'll mention something about the drudgery of the farm. Both my brother Tim and I earned extra money helping some with it as we got older. I found animal husbandry and the subsequent slaughter distasteful. Preparing soil, planting, cultivating and harvesting in those days was intense physical labor. Riding a tractor in a remote field is a very lonely and boring endeavor. I disliked haying most of all. Return on investment was minimal and some years they actually went in debt. As my Father had done before me, I vowed to myself at an early age that I'd never be a farmer. Having said this, however, those who did like it had a bond with the land that appeared to be something very special. Farming today has changed so much I have no idea if it's even similar to then.