The Ghosts Among Us

Part of my delight in history is learning about our past, and part of my emotion about what I learn is understanding how quickly that past disappears.  The subjects of my manuscript, the Populist Movement and the Peoples' Party it created, were for a brief time a powerful challenge to the two old political parties. Yet, most people today have never heard about them.

Barn on old Saratoga site

In doing the research, I learned about people, famous and influential in that time, which few remember today.  And, I read about places that vied for a long existence but disappeared completely.  One of those places was Saratoga, Kansas.  I have posted blogs about the old cemetery, "Cemetery on the Hill" 2-7-2013, which is nearly impossible to find even when you know where it is, and the beautiful barn built on the site that once was Saratoga, "Disappearing Old Barnes" 1-15-2015, which has since been torn down.  Times move on, people with memories of those places pass away, and eventually those historical roots are forgotten.  Yet, they remain, as the ghosts of our past history.

Two Pratt historians preserved the history of Saratoga, and I am indebted to Lucile Asher and J. Rufus Gray for much of the information I will share in this blog.  I believe that both of their books are available at the Pratt History Museum.

A stone at the Saratoga Cemetery

Three towns battled, literally sometimes, to be chosen as the Pratt County Seat.  When Pratt Center, now simplified to "Pratt," prevailed, Iuka shrank, but Saratoga disappeared completely.  I knew where Saratoga once was, but I had no ideas what a bustling town it had been until I began working on my manuscript.  It could be argued that Saratoga should have prevailed over Pratt.  It existed earlier, a railroad reached it first, and the temporary naming of Iuka as the county seat was more of a governor's whim than an indication that it was a superior choice over Saratoga at that time.

When Pratt Center finally prevailed, many Iuka merchants and residents simply moved there--quite literally moving structures to the new county seat.  Saratoga was determined to continue to exist, but gradually its people began to move to Pratt as well.  Now it is just a forgotten location north of the Forestry, Fish & Game complex.

Images in old photo albums

But, today, as you read this blog, picture the ghosts wandering around the busy town square of Saratoga, unaware that in a few years their homes would be moved or burned down, and the seemingly permanent brick structures would disappear.  Picture the Wichita, Kingman & Western  train (replacing the previous service of the Cannonball Express Stage line).  Add to your imagination the mills on the Ninnescah where Isaac Werner came to sell his corn, and the brick kiln producing the brick for the fine brick buildings in town.

Picture the impressive brick city hall-opera house, the school, livery stable, and hotel, and imagine the bustle of shoppers visiting grocery and general stores, butcher shops, drug stores, restaurants, a dressmaker, a milliner, a jeweler, and most impressive, two book stores.  Churches countered the pool halls, and barber shops kept the men neat.

Now the people who frequented these businesses are the ghosts of past generations, memories passed from generation to generation until they are forgotten, faded images in old photo albums. While some may remember stories about Saratoga, no longer are there first-hand memories of the actual town.  It is the responsibility of historians to preserve these stories, and the responsibility of all of us to care.

Pratt County Seat Dispute

Early photograph of Pratt Businesses

Gaining the county seat in the westward expansion was extremely important to developing communities.  Often the seed for a town was not much more than a school.  Gradually a nearby home might be designated the community post office, a church might be built, and a few businesses might establish themselves there.  Rather than towns being far apart, there were many of these tiny settlements, almost all of which have now disappeared without a trace remaining today.  Even some of the larger towns have failed to thrive as automobiles and highways allow residents in the surrounding area to travel elsewhere for their shopping.  But for about one hundred years, being the county seat meant the likelihood that the town would prosper.  Naturally, people were willing to fight for that designation, sometimes with marketing, sometimes with trickery, and sometimes with guns.

Pratt County engaged in a bit of all three.  Here is a very brief summary of that history, starting with the designation of the area as a county.  A certain number of residents were necessary, and it is suggested that Pratt County may have counted its population a little generously.

Early photograph of Iuka Businesses

The governor came to investigate, and if it was a legitimate county to determine between Iuka and Saratoga which settlement should be the County Seat.  Clever Iuka promoters met the governor's train with a brass band (so the story goes) and escorted him to their community where he was entertained so 'graciously' that he never made it to Saratoga.

Naturally, Saratoga was not happy.  They contested the temporary designation of Iuka, but when irregularities were found among the necessary signatures, it was decided not to disturb the status quo while the irregularities were investigated.  Iuka retained its title.

Stone in the neglected Saratoga Cemetery 

Iuka's claim was based largely on being the center of the county; however, a legislative attempt to erase Stafford from the map of counties by giving parts of it away to its neighboring counties was defeated, at least partly because two townships had been overlooked in the giveaway.  That allowed Stafford County to survive and demand that its original boundaries be returned.  Once that happened, the reach of Pratt County was reduced, and Iuka was no longer at the center of the county.

A group of businessmen decided to form an investment company to establish a new town called Pratt Center.  Their citizen count involved the same sort of exaggerated numbers that the county itself had used to be recognized.  For a time the accusation was that for Pratt Center to have enough residents to be recognized as a town they must have counted the prairie dogs, which earned it the nickname of Dog City.

Nevertheless, the battle for the county seat now involved three communities.  Perhaps because the investment company used smarter legal tactics than the settlers in the other two communities, Pratt Center was named as the county seat and remains so today.  The small community of Iuka remains, but Saratoga has disappeared.

During those years of disputing claims to the county seat, there was certainly significant marketing, a serious amount of chicanery, and even a bit of gun fire (although most of it was probably aimed into the air rather than at each other).  Once Pratt Center gained the prize it wasn't long before the citizens voted to drop Center from the name of the town.  Today Pratt remains a thriving small city, with museums, a community college, proud citizens, and not a prairie dog to be found!

More stories about these early communities may be found in the blog archives.  Remember, you can click on the images to enlarge them.

(Notice the deceased woman's name on the old grave stone.  Many of these stones may be found in old cemeteries on which neither the woman's given name nor maiden name appears, but rather, the name of the husband at the time of her death is inscribed.  This often makes researching maternal family lines almost impossible.  Even if the given name appears, the maternal family line may still be difficult to ascertain.)