Forestry, Fish & Game at the Fair

Forestry, Fish & Game in Eisenhower Bldg

I previously shared Isaac Werner's affection for wild birds.  (Isaac & his "Pet" Game Birds, 8-8-2013)  Early settlers failed to recognize the need for conservation of game birds, and although laws were passed to protect against unlimited hunting of game and song birds in the late 1800s, it was too late for some.  I'm sure that if Isaac could have joined me for a stroll around the fairgrounds, he would have enjoyed the display in the Eisenhower Building pictured at left. 

 

However, this blog is not really about Isaac.  In about 1940, my father went to work at the Forestry, Fish & Game headquarters near Pratt, Kansas.  At that time, most people called it The Fish Hatchery, and many people still do.  My parents had married in 1934, and when they moved to Pratt about 1940 for my father's new job, my older brother was about three years old. 



Early photograph of the Fish Hatchery

Soon, they were able to move into one of the cottages on the Hatchery grounds, and it was a happy time for them, with other young couples living there.  When the men were at work, the wives finished their household chores and gathered for coffee breaks and card games, while their children played together. 

 

One of my father's responsibilities was driving a fish display truck to fairs and other public events.  The back of the truck was outfitted with tanks displaying fish found in Kansas rivers and lakes.  Naturally, when I saw the mobile fish tanks on display at the state fair I thought of my father and one particular trip he made with the fish display truck.

 

Mobile fish display at KS state fair 

In over forty years of marriage, my parents spent only four nights apart (excluding a couple of short hospital stays), but as the employee who drove the fish display truck, my father was required to travel to a destination where he remained overnight.  Apparently, my mother had raised quite a fuss about being left at home.

 

Here's the romantic part of my story--At the end of a long day watching over the fish display and answering visitors' question, my father returned to his hotel room, exhausted.  Those were the days of overnight delivery of letters, and he knew he had better write a letter to my mother or he would be in even worse trouble when he got home.  He had brought no stationery, and there was no complimentary writing paper in the hotel room.  All that he could find was a can of Dutch Maid scouring powder under the bathroom sink.  Carefully, he tore along the overlapping edges of the Dutch Maid label, and as he had hoped, the back of label was white.  He took out his pencil and wrote my mother a love letter, explaining how sorry he was that she couldn't come with him, telling her how much he missed and loved her, and asking "Corky" to take good care of his mother.  I don't know how he managed to find an envelope and get the letter mailed to my mother.  What I do know is that when Mother went to the nursing home over sixty years later, I found that love letter in the top drawer of my mother's bureau.

Isaac and his "pet" Game Birds

Wild turkey and pheasant at Forestry, Fish & Game Museum

Isaac Werner loved wild birds.  He not only used the flights of ducks and geese to be warned of the approach of winter and celebrate the welcome arrival of spring, he also noted in his journal the return of each type of song bird.  For example, on February 17, 1890, he wrote, "Larks warbling first time for spring.  Birds livening up for spring."



Ducks and beavers at FF&G Museum

He had a flock of quail for which he scattered corn in his peach orchard, and when the Blizzard of January 1886 froze his birds, he grieved for them as if they had been his pets.  You can only imagine his anger when he caught a neighbor poaching game birds along the edges of his property, birds which had become quite tame because of his feeding them.  Times were hard, and neighbors were sometimes hungry for meat, but that was no excuse to Isaac.  On November 18, 21, and 22, 1890, he wrote in his journal:  "...some loafing Scroundrel Stambaugh following my tree rows with buggy shooting my quails."  Continuing:  "...seemingly Stambaugh loafer shooting more quails on timber claim tree rows.  I out after him but he making distance keeping ahead of me.  I penciled 7 board notices 'No Shooting' etc. to nail up at roads and corners."  And finally:  "...nailed up Shooting notice boards, warning tresspassers."  A few years later the Kansas legislature passed laws protecting game birds--too late for prairie chickens but providing protection for other birds Isaac loved.



Bobcat scares up a quail at FF&G Museum

Recently we visited the wonderful museum at the Kansas  Forestry, Fish & Game Headquarters just   east of Pratt, Kansas.  The impressive display of native birds and animals made me think of Isaac and his love for wild creatures.  (Except skunks!)  I hope you enjoy the photographs I took, and perhaps you will want to visit there to see more of the displays at the museum.  Remember, you can click on the images to enlarge them.

Cemetery on the Hill

View of cemetery from road

I was certain we were on the right road, having been told that the old Saratoga Cemetery, also known as Summit Hill Cemetery, was just south of the Kansas Forestry Fish & Game campus, but after the road curved off to the east we were confused.  We could not believe we had missed it, but we turned around for a last attempt to find the old cemetery.  At last, I saw something in a vast grassy field and asked my husband to stop so I could go check it out, but even then my husband wasn't convinced by the lone stone marker I had seen.  "I don't know what it is, but it doesn't look like a cemetery to me," he said. 

 

Marker of Edward R. Gillmore

In fact, what I had seen was the grave marker of Edward R. Gillmore, partially buried in dirt and grass that had filled in around its base over the years so that only part of the stone extended out of the ground.  Edward's parents, George and Elisabeth, originally from Kentucky and Tennessee, had lived in Missouri when Edward and his younger siblings, William and Rosa, were born.  They had paused in Miami County, Kansas for a time before arriving in Saratoga.  Young Edward lacked 14 days of reaching his 16th birthday.

 

It is no wonder that we missed seeing the cemetery as we drove by the first time.  In 1976 Russell Miracle recorded information from the grave stones and collected what information the sexton had.  (http://www.interment.net/data/us/ks/pratt/summit/saratoga.htm)  At that time he accounted for 30 graves, but our visit did not reveal nearly that many, and those that remain show signs of wear and vandalism.  People my age who lived in the area confessed that the old cemetery had been a favorite parking spot for Pratt couples when they were teenages, and others admitted tipping over stones when they were kids.

 

Marker of Fletcher twins

Several of the existing stones now lie flat on the ground, while others are broken.  Even Edward's, which is in better condition than most, appears to have lost a finial from the top of his stone.  The marker for the Fletcher twin girls, who lived only seven days, is so badly broken that identification was possible only because of the records Mr. Miracle saved in 1976.  The unnamed twins were later joined by a tiny sister, Winnie, but no other family members are buried at Summit Hill.

 

The dates of death chiseled on the stones are from the 1880s and 1890s, during years the town of Saratoga vied with Iuka and Pratt Center for the county seat.  (See blog post "How Investors Created Pratt, posted Sept. 27, 2012, to read more about the battle for the Pratt County Seat and the gradual demise of Saratoga.)  Isaac Werner hauled grain to Saratoga to sell or to be ground, and he was impressed with the bustling town built around a square.  The 1887 Biennial Report of the Kansas State Board of Agriculture recorded two newspapers in Saratoga:  "The Saratoga Sun," a republican paper published by Albaugh & Hupp, and "The Pratt County Democrat," J.M. Gore and E.D. Fry, editors and publishers.  There were also two banks--Wilson, Weaver & Co. and the Bank of Saratoga headed by George A. Lewis & Co., both banks reporting paid up capital of $25,000.

 

Distant Pratt viewed from cemetery

At that time, Pratt Center was already the larger town, wih a combined population in town and the township of 1156 residents, but Saratoga had 419 town residents and 147 more in the township.  Iuka had only 68 town residents, although in the township there were 685 more residents.  When Pratt Center finally won the county seat, Saratoga held on for a while but eventually disappeared.  Today, standing atop Summit Hill Cemetery (Saratoga Cemetery) and looking across the broken grave stones of those former Saratoga residents, Pratt can be seen in the distance.

 

Broken stone of Della Thornton

Stone of M.O. Nichelson

Those buried on Summit Hill nearly all sleep in eternal peace alone, spouses and parents having moved on as the town of Saratoga disappeared.  Young Della C. Thornton, only twenty years old at her death, left her husband Frank to raise their son alone, and today none of her descendants remains in the community to repair the broken stone lying half-hidden in the blowing grass.

 

Old cemeteries leave behind many clues but also unsolved mysteries.  Miles O. Nichelson died September 28, 1887, only 21 years old.  The records from 1976 omit any mention of Miles but do include the death of Miles's mother, Parthenia, on Sept. 15, 1887.   Did both Mr. Miracle and I overlook the faint inscription of a second family member's death inscribed on the same stone?  And, what might have caused the deaths within days of each other?  It is reasonable to guess that an illness might be the explanation.  The whereabouts of John Nichelson, father and husband, and of Cora, Miles's thirteen year old sister at the time of his death, could not be traced.

 

Knowing the history of Saratoga, I understand why Summit Hill Cemetery has so few graves and why there are few signs of visitors.  When the town faded into history, some of its residents moved into Pratt, but others scattered across the growing nation.  The occupants of the graves did not live to see the death of their town, and today their neglected stones are the only evidence of a once thriving community.

 

(Remember, you can enlarge the images by clicking on them.  If anyone knows more about the families mentioned in this post. or about the old Saratoga cemetery, please leave a comment.)