Once Upon the Priarie

         Callie Mae

C ourageous and confident

A dventurous and ambitious

L oveable and light-hearted

L ikeable and lively

I ndustrious and intelligent

E nthusiastic and empathetic

M ature and motivated

A ble and admirable

E nergetic and endearing

              The Exoduster 

PLEASE NOTE THIS BLOG CHANGES THE FIRST AND THIRD WEEKS

Prairie Girls

 Callie Mae

I am Callie Mae Sullivan, and I have made my decision about my adventure. I will become an Exoduster. I will travel by train and steamboat to Kansas to look for my brothers. Together we will homestead and get free land. I have a little money Granny left me to get tickets and a passage north. Pap Singleton is taking some former slaves to Kansas. Do you think if I dress as a boy, he will take me, too?

Granny always said I would have a big adventure, and this could be it. You will read more about my trip and life in Kansas in our writing project.

A Quiet Adventure

I suspect most young girls are like Callie Mae, wanting adventure in their lives. Some never outgrow adventure. Several years ago I spent two days traveling on the Mississippi River on a riverboat. I took a couple of books to read and several notebooks and pens. I planned to catch up on my reading and to “organize my life” by writing numerous lists of things to accomplish in the future. Thirty minutes into the trip I set aside my books and notebooks. I did not read one chapter or make one list. Written words are often beautiful and some come from God, but the beauty of the nature He created, I could not miss.

At times during the trip there were no signs of civilization on either bank of the river. The landscape looked as it must have looked when first viewed by men. My trip held no adventures as exciting as Callie Mae’s on the river, and I did not have to chop wood to fuel the engine or worry about food to eat. Yet, it was an unexpected adventure into the quiet world of the beauty God created.   

The Historical Fact

Black Communities

 

Following the Civil War and Reconstruction in the South, Kansas advertised land was available to homestead for Freedmen who could pay the fee of five dollars to enter the state. Led by the Tennessean, Benjamin “Pap” Singleton, a former slave himself, thousands entered the state. While a noble way to assist Blacks in getting their own land, Kansas was not prepared for the large influx and did not know how to help the families get started. More than twenty communities were founded mostly in the eastern region of the state.

Successive crop failures, bad weather conditions and resentment of communities by white citizens made life difficult for the new arrivals. Many fled south into Indian Territory and created more Black towns with several still in existence today. The only surviving town in Kansas is Nicodemus founded in western Kansas in 1877.

The following sites provide more information.

www.legendsofamerica.com/ks-nicodemus.html

www.nps.gov/home/historyculture/exodusters.htm

www.kshs.org/kansapedia/african-americans-in-kansas/15123

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prairie Recipes

 

Prairie Recipes

By Collette

 

 

Callie Mae might have enjoyed this meal at her home in Mississippi or after she migrated to Kansas.

 

 Dandelion Greens-Potatoes and Dumplings

1 cup flour                                                           ¾ cup (about) milk

Salt                                                                       3 pounds dandelion greens
2 teaspoon baking powder                                   ¼ pound salt pork, cubed
1 cup cornmeal                                                     6 medium potatoes, peeled and
1 egg, beaten                                                            chopped

Sift flour, 1 ¼ teaspoon salt, baking powder and cornmeal together; combine with egg and milk in large bowl. Mix well; do not beat. Place cleaned greens in kettle of unsalted boiling water; return to a boil. Reduce heat; cook for ten minutes. Drain; return greens to kettle. Cover half-way with boiling water; add one tablespoon salt. Slice salt pork down to rind; add to greens. Cover kettle; simmer for one hour. Add potatoes; cook for 30 minutes longer. Drop flour mixture by small spoonsful onto boiling greens and potatoes. Cover; cook for 15 minutes. Yield: 6 servings.

 While traveling across the prairie, Callie ate roasted rabbit similar to the recipe below.
 

Spit-roasted Rabbit
1 cleaned rabbit left whole                                   day-old corn bread
1 quartered onion                                                 milk or water as needed
1 chopped carrot                                                  1 chopped stalk of celery
Butter or bacon fat                                               2 tablespoon chopped herbs
Slices of salt pork                                                salt and pepper to taste
Break up corn bread; add vegetables, herbs, salt and pepper. Add enough liquid to bind the dressing together. Stuff the body cavity with the stuffing. Wrap slices of salt pork around the outside of the rabbit. Hang on spit over the campfire. Place a drip pan below the rabbit. Juices from pan should be used to baste the rabbit. Watch carefully
and cook to desired doneness. 

The Storyteller's Corner

Dunlap

After researching the town where Callie Mae lived in Kansas, my co-author and I went to Dunlap to experience the area. We found remnants of a school, a grain elevator, and a few out-buildings. This Black community was the largest in the state at one time with over 300 residents. There was a Freedmen’s Academy in the town Callie Mae could have attended. All that is left is the gymnasium.

The most interesting area was the Black cemetery located near the town. Although many grave stones have deteriorated, it is possible to view names and those serving in the Civil War had been noted with a decal on the stone. We were able to take rubbings from the stones.

We did visit Rock Creek and found a hill where Callie Mae’s dugout might have been located. Rock Creek still floods its banks just as it did for the family in our story. There were more than a dozen communities occupied by Blacks and sadly all have become ghost towns with the exception of Nicodemus.

Up the Family Tree

Back to School

by Judy

“But I don’t want to be in Mr. Jones’s homeroom. He is no fun. He doesn’t let anybody do anything in his homeroom,” my younger daughter complained.

“Who doesn’t get to do what?” I asked, figuring some clearer explanation was needed before I called the overworked guidance counselor the day before school started about getting her homeroom changed.

“You know, everybody, just everybody. They don’t get to do anything they want to do,” she rephrased.

After thirty minutes of strategic questioning, I discovered Mr. Jones was known for running a quiet homeroom, conducive for getting homework done, and my daughter’s friends were in a different homeroom with a “more relaxed teacher.”

How did summer go by so quickly? How come school started so early? And, where was I going to find money for school clothes, registration and book fees? More importantly, how was I going to get the kids out of bed, to their respective schools and me to the office before 8:00 in the morning?

“It’s not fair. Why does he get paid $5.00 just to go to school and the rest of us have to go without pay? I want paid too,” said my other son.”

Upon reflection it probably wasn’t fair, but it had been a rough morning. I forgot to start the dryer the night before, and my black slacks were still wet. My working wardrobe basically consisted of three blouses, a black pair of pants and a brown pair of pants. I had worn the brown pants the two previous days. I wanted to wear my black ones that morning.

My husband had an early morning meeting and left an hour earlier than normal. The kids ate Twinkies (again) for breakfast and not the nutritional eggs, bacon or pancakes he normally served them. My morning job was to round up shoes, jackets, homework, school lunches or meal tickets, gym suits, eye glasses, violin, music, science project….  I also authored any needed written excuses. 

One morning my younger son, never fond of school, revived the temper tantrums he perfected at an earlier age and raged full strength against going to school. I feared I might lightly swat his backside and placed my hands in the pockets of my damp slacks. I felt the neatly folded, albeit damp, $5 bill. It was only natural I offer to pay the kid to calm down and go to school. No fool, he quickly grabbed the money and stuffed it in the dry pocket of his clean jeans.

Yes, it was a bad precedent to set, but a mother has to do what a mother has to do.