1890-1893: Sarah's First Years at School Prove to be No Match for Her Precocious, Inquisitive Nature

Perfect timing! In the jumble of loose pages I'm transcribing, I've come across Sarah Eva Howe's story of her first days at Carrollton School in 1890, plus a few episodes from Grades 2 and 3 as well.

Names are in bold to help family historians find them. As always, ellipses indicate missing or omitted words, and brackets enclose my own comments or clarifications.

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School Year 1890-91 — Memories of Carrollton Classmates
I started to school in September of 1890, in Miss Sue Foster’s room. She had two grades,

Sarah before starting school, age 5

the “card class,” beginners who learned a word at a time from cards held up before them, and the First Reader, into which I was put. So I suppose I could read some and spell and “figger” tho it is hazy in my mind, for Mama read aloud so much to me I can’t remember just when I “flowered into reading” for myself. But I do know that she was already reading fairly advanced children’s books to me and that Mother Goose was so far behind that it seemed a memory.

Jenne Howe¹ was in my grade, and Mildred Goslee, with whom I had already become acquainted. I believe Jenne had started after Christmas [1889?] when she became seven, but a spell of illness either of herself or in the family prevented her from going full time, so she began again with me. The same was true of Mildred, who was a full year older than I (except for ten months). It wasn’t long before we three started walking to and from school most of the time together, and thus began our long friendship, into which Lida Hafford, whose sister married Jenne’s Uncle George² about that time, came a year or so later, tho she was at least two years ahead of us in school. 

Mildred was “kin” too, of course, being Aunt Sallie Goslee Howe’s³ half sister, and around there most of the time; we lived with Uncle Joe⁴ and Aunt Sallie for the first year and a half of our stay in Carrollton. I used to go around to Mildred’s to play, of course; I remember staying to supper one night, when they had a Polish dish pirogues — I suppose you would spell it, tho we called it Pi-rog-ees. Since then I have learned that a pirogue is a boat, and as these were baked meat dumplings I suppose the submersible idea was there, but I didn’t know for sure. Anyway, they were delicious and probably indigestible, highly so, but I ate two or three of them, being away from the watchful parental eyes that even counted hot biscuits on me, and I don’t remember any ill effects. 

I also remember playing church upstairs in Mildred’s room; we refrained from actually playing “communion,” as we felt that wouldn’t be right; but we did play “love feast” and passed bread and water. Mildred was never a great hand to play dolls, her mother having had a succession of live babies, all of whom died young, for her to play with. Mildred still talked about Hugh, her brother who had died at about the same time and same age as Chandler — the twin boys she could remember, too, dying when they were a year old and she was about three or four. Roman Alexander Goslee, her older brother, lived there and went to school (he was in a much older grade than we, as he was about five or six years older and was in W. L.’s⁵ grade) and Levi Goslee (who was still a small child, about a year old when his father Dr. Goslee married Miss Mary Browinski a year from the death of Aunt Sallie’s and Levi’s mother) lived there too; also Mr. Charlie and Mr. Jim and “Sis Nan,” Aunt Sallie’s younger sister about twenty five or -six when I used to go there in 1890. Mr. Jim married Mamie Lindsay, of Ghent, “Aunt Puss” Gaines’s niece, that winter; she only lived a year. Charlie was much younger, he and Levi (he was the youngest) were about 15 and 18 when I first knew them, and Roman 13. Charlie Kipping⁶, tho I didn’t remember him till later, was in the grade with Roman and Levi (who had failed to pass a couple of times because of inattention to study) and 12-year-old Will Salyers5, who was really a year ahead of the other boys because his Aunt Ruth⁷ had taught him to read at home before starting to school. At this time they were probably in the 7th grade, as he graduated 5 years later in 1894, and there were only three years of high school — tho the 8th grade was really a high school year, as they began Latin and Algebra in it. It was taught by Miss Moreland and was a “humdinger.” Levi never went any further than this grade. Roman and Will went on and graduated together, and Charlie K., who took an extra year, graduated with John Howe⁸, who in ’90-’91 was in the 6th grade. I’m not sure which year Lille⁹ went to Science Hill, but she graduated in 1896, so I imagine she was still going to Carrollton Pubic School (then in the “New Building” out on 6th St., now torn down). 

I don’t remember that first year so very well, except that going was very irksome to me. I so much preferred the “literary pursuits” and conversation of home, the pleasant sunny room and hall of Grandfather’s house, and the lovely yard where that fall I found the grave of Aunt Sallie Froman’s¹⁰ little dog Trip and began decorating it with little pieces of marble picked up behind the tombstone cutters in the alley. I think it was that fall, too, that Aunt Sallie gave us the squirrel, which used to run about the room a good deal and up onto Papa’s shoulder. He got to be a good deal of trouble, tho, so I think we finally gave him back. I still wanted what I couldn’t have, a dog. Cats were out of the question except a staid old Tom who lived around the cellar and stable, a black-with-white-feet cat who was certainly no good as a pet. Aunt Sallie only tolerated him because he kept down the mouse population; all her family disliked cats — in the case of Mr. Jim, Roman and Mildred, it was really “Cat-Fear.” They turned pale and sick and had to leave the room when a cat came in.

School Year 1891-92 — McGuffey's Reader and Ray's Arithmetic
There was a school entertainment that winter of ’91-’92. I keep trying to remember things from it; Marie Butler sang again “The Loveliest Doll in the World.” I remember the tune well; and a boy and girl sang “The Little Green Peach” — “hard trials for them, too, Johnny Jones and his sister Sue and the peach of emerald hue, boo hoo, boo hoo!”  One of the hits was the “Ten Little Sunflowers” song. The children had caps of leaves around their faces, and as each one disappeared like the ten little Indians, the others carried on till only one was left. A little boy in my grade named Walter Meeks, such a cute, pesky little boy, and he brought down the house when he piped up in a treble that carried to the last rows, “One little sunflower blooming all alone. It had to go to bed, and then there was none!" Perhaps later more things may swim up from the “lost seas” about this show, which was given by the whole school, tho I don’t remember many high school students in it.

Carrollton School circa 1890. Sarah marked with an X the door used by students in the upper grades.

It is strange that I don’t remember more about my second year of school. Miss Ella Giltner¹¹ was my teacher, both in the 2nd and 3rd grades, but it doesn’t seem that anything special comes up out of that nine months, except it seems there were several spelling matches, my first experience with the “gentle artifices.” 

I remember feeling superior to strange little girls who were only starting; one child, Carrie Garriott, whose people had just moved to town from the country, was so agonizingly shy, was afraid to ask anything, even where the outdoor toilet was! She wore such big heavy shoes, and some of the little girls were laughing at her, tho her father owned a big farm and had just bought a big house. I wish I could say that I rushed up to her and befriended her against the world, but I’m afraid I did nothing of the sort, but I did feel sorry for her and I think spoke to her as soon as anyone did. I met her the next Sunday at Sunday school, as they were devoted Methodists, and she was soon one of us, tho as long as I knew her she never quite knew how to dress, as to style or color. She is quite well to do now, lives in Princeton, Ky., and her son attended the University of Kentucky, tho I never knew which boy he was. 

Stella Carrico (Paul’s aunt, I feel sure) came to school that year, and a pale slim shy little girl with a long plait named Pearl Delane. Jim Webster was in my grade and used to come by and walk to school (and sometimes from school) with me. He was a slim pale person too, very studious, in fact perfection in his studies, tho he had adenoids and couldn’t read aloud as I could (that was my strong point, with spelling). 

Hugh Caldwell, brother of Henry but without his charm or red hair, was in the class, Jenne and Mildred (Lida, about two years older, was already in the fifth grade), Albert Whitehead, and, I think, John Dufour from Prestonsville. . . . Oh yes, I believe Henry “my turn”Darling  was there and probably Carroll Gullion, for they were with me later, I know. One little girl from Locust, I believe, when asked her name, piped up “Dinky O’Banion.” I’ve never forgotten that; and I also remember a softened little girl named

Maud LeClere who was probably kin to Cousin Ruth Salyers’ grandmother of that name in Vevay. We used McGuffey’s Reader (and I wish I had it now!) and speller, and Ray's Arithmetic book one (all of them of detested memory). 

Miss Ella had two grades. She had too many children, it was hard to control them, and this year was not very interesting — no drawing, no handwork[?] games, no stories as the children have them now. We sang some songs, mostly patriotic ones, and learned one or two portions of Scripture to recite in unison. 

Truth compels me to admit, I stayed home on every pretext — bad weather, a slight cold, etc. — where the warmth and light and Mama’s devoted companionship, as well as the current cat (we always had one), plenty to eat, and books to look at, handle and read, were always on tap. Also let truth compel me to add that I led my class, nevertheless, in the report cards, only Jim Webster rivaling mine, with all his studious and faithful ways. What a pity, it seems now, not to have spared me that year, for I could easily have taken the third grade work. It might have changed my life, for I’d have been in the class with Effie, Velma, and Will Rowland, and at Mr. English’s for two years instead of one in High School, but then I would have missed the wonderful year with Lille Howe⁹, which really did a lot for me.


School Year 1892-93 —  Art and Poetry Get Sarah in Trouble!
About this time I had whooping cough, but it was a light case and I was able to make a good start in the 3rd grade with the same teacher, Miss Ella Giltner, who as I said had both grades in the same room. 

Now began the study of geography, much less interesting than is now given to small learners. But it was something I could “get my teeth in.” Also by this time I had flowered into reading. I was beginning to draw, too, and tho after the first poem about the “Two Little Mice” I didn’t attempt further effusions for a time, the germ was still there. 

I got into trouble, too, drawing in school. I made two cartoons (not knowing them by that name) which I considered quite brilliant, playing on the names of Jenne and Mildred; a little red goose, with a girl’s head, labeled “Mildred Red Goose” and a blue bovine, with a girl’s head also, labeled Jenn Cow — no offense was intended, just a pun on their names, for Papa and Mama often made quite a game of puns on all sorts of names, both of people and household objects. Mildred, having a fine sense of humor, giggled and enjoyed it, but Jenne saw no joke in it and got mad. She took the pictures to Miss Ella (also very deficient in humor) who chose to consider them defamatory and reprimanded me — yet, not so much for maligning my subjects as for drawing pictures in school hours instead of studying (and I was making straight A’s!). 

In all my attendance at school, I was never tardy, yet on a few occasions I did hear the second bell at 20 minutes after eight, but I was in my seat when the tardy bell sounded (imagine the rushing that entailed on small fat legs). ...

Books! They were the joy of my secret life, away from school (which I only tolerated), happily curled up in the hammock in summer, which they gave me for my ninth birthday, or before the fire in the winter. Mrs. Harry Winslow had a fine literary taste and bought all the fine children’s books, and was generous in lending them to me. I was nervous that year tho, probably from trying to gorge down too many ideas, and some stories would make me stay awake at night. Strangely enough, one of these was Alice in Wonderland, that classic, with its Blue Caterpillar, Lizard, Frog footman, cross duchesses, and queens, frightened instead of amusing me (the myths of the gorgon and other creatures never did — I wonder why?), and one night when I woke up and almost saw the baby turning into a pig I had such a spell that Mama said indignantly I had no business reading such a book! But I persevered, until the fright passed away, and the charm stole in and has remained ever after.

A great help in this was that on Christmas one of the books Grandma Cost sent me was

John Tenniel [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

The Nursery Alice (with a foreward, which Grandma didn’t read, saying it was for tots from nought to five, in words of one syllable! This to me, who knew all about “the helmet of invisibility”!). What Grandma had bought it for was the large colored pictures, and indeed they were wonderful, authentic “Tenniels” in color, just like the little black and white ones in the real book. After looking at them and hearing me explain in a vastly superior manner the real scenes so coyly dehydrated to one syllable for “0 to 5,” Mama actually began to enjoy the Mad Tea Party, the croquet match, the Eat Me & Drink Me sequences, and became quite a convert to Alice herself. Mama loved to read aloud (never got over it!) and together we enjoyed the Alcott books about this time, the more advanced ones, tho I never got over loving the “Under the Lilacs,” but now we read Little Women and Little Men, Jo’s Boys, Rose in Bloom, and Eight Cousins — then oh joy! Mrs. Winslow lent me Jack and Jill, which should really have come along about Under the Lilacs, but I loved it just the same.

So the last day of school came, and with it another damper to my artistic zeal — or poetic, rather. It was a perfect morning, so sunny, so full of promise that I was filled with “the spirit” in all directions. I got to school early and had brought some roses and other flowers, so arranged them on Miss Ella’s desk. (I even felt a surge of affection for her, tho I never liked her at all till years after, when I found she was a shy, fine person, really) (she is Lyter Donaldson’s cousin, you know, and Giltner Salyers’ own aunt). I made what I considered a really tricky arrangement, a bunch at each corner and roses carelessly scattered between as if just dropped there. And then I felt a poem coming on and wrote on the board:
“The sun is shining brightly
And sweetly sings the bird
To make the sweetest music
That ever we have heard
And merrily are leaping
The fishes in the pool
All things are trying their best to make
A happy day of school.”

(Not a masterpiece, but not bad either for a child of nine in the 3rd grade, on the spur of the moment.)

I imagined Miss Ella coming in and saying “Why, who has done all this?” But no, with her usual nervous intensity she immediately swept the flowers from the desk into the wastebasket, and taking an eraser, cleaned the board — she never even saw the poem! But the desk and board were now neat for the rest of the day. Then I realized the truth (dimly) that between the neat and the artistic temperaments there was “a great gulf fixed.”
 

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Interested in reading more about Carrollton, Kentucky school days in the 1890s? Take a look at these posts:

Schoolhouse Revolution of 1896-1897 

Sarah's Bovine Encounter

War Ends, Romances Blossom, Hearts Break – Autumn 1899

Carrollton Seminary Roster, 1896 – Names, Names, Names!

The Evolution of Carrollton High School, 1880s-1890s (segment 3 in a general post)

The Lost Is Found! The Story of Carrollton School Continues

ENDNOTES
¹ Sarah's first cousin, daughter of her father's brother William Ficklin Howe (1846-1916) and Louisiana Winslow Howe (1852-1944)
² George B. Winslow, brother of Jenn's father William F. Howe; grandson of William Beverly Winslow (1814-1883) and Martha Jane Woolfork (1826-1905)
³ Sallie Goslee (1858-1934), likely a daughter of Levin E. Goslee and Elizabeth Welles
⁴ Sarah's paternal uncle Joseph Brown Howe (1857-1929); husband of Sallie Goslee
⁵ William Levi Salyers (1878-1944), who became Sarah's husband in 1905
⁶ Charles Kipping would later marry Sarah's sister, Leonora Alice Howe (1896-1967)
⁷ Ruth Salyers, older sister of Sarah's paternal grandfather Charles David Salyers (abt 1812-1874)
⁸ Sarah's first cousin John Junior Howe (1879-1939), son of William Ficklin Howe and Louisiana Winslow Howe
⁹ Lille M. Howe, daughter of William Ficklin Howe and Louisiana Winslow Howe
¹⁰ Sarah Varena "Sallie" Howe Froman (1862-1950), sister of Sarah's father Robert James Howe (1855-1910); wife of Carrollton businessman Herman M. "Mack" Froman (dates unknown)
¹¹ Likely a relative of Susie Giltner, who in 1886 in Carrollton married the first William Levi Salyers, son of Charles D. Salyers and paternal uncle of Sarah's husband of the same name

Part 2: Sarah's House-to-House Stroll Almost Makes Up for the Missing 1890 U.S. Census

In the second segment of Sarah Eva Howe's "Book of Recollections," we join Sarah at 5th and Seminary as she continues to take us from house to house, family to family, remembering Carrollton, Kentucky, circa 1890. This may be as close to a replacement as we're likely to find for the missing 1890 census of the town.

As I transcribe this journal written by Sarah in 1943, I want to stay faithful to her writing – even her long, convoluted sentences full of parenthetical phrases. However, because Sarah was writing to her own grown-and-married daughter, she felt free to "tell it like it is" – or was –  according to her own memory. A few stories about her neighbors are unflattering. While I have the right to publish info and images from Sarah's scrapbooks and journals, I don't have the right – or desire – to publish anything that could cause hurt or shame among living descendants. After all, without proof, these stories are merely gossip.

Throughout this series of posts, I will indicate omissions with an ellipsis, a series of periods. If you read something about your own ancestor and want the omitted information, please email me so we can discuss it. My email address is under the "About" tab.

And now, on with Sarah's virtual stroll through Carrollton. As always, my own comments are in brackets. All parentheses are Sarah's own.

From 5th Street on, there were no houses on Seminary that I know of until almost 1894 or 5, when the little brick on the corner was built, probably for Pearce Winslow and Maynie (Bond), his wife, for they were living there when Pearce ... left her. Just in passing, isn’t it sad and strange that of the three most prominent families then in the Methodist Church, not a great-grandson of the names survives. Mr. Will Winslow’s son died, so did the child¹ Maynie bore Pearce after he left her; Mr. Henry Winslow left a son, Cooper, who never married. Mr. George [and] Mr. Jim left no children — the girls of course, as Aunt Lou, had sons of different family names. 

Of the Howes, you know of course, Papa’s son² died, Uncle Joe’s boys³ had no children, Aunt Sallie’s son⁴ is a Froman, my children are Salyers⁵; Uncle John’s baby died, Aunt Lou’s and Uncle Will’s boys⁶ had no sons. Of the Conns, the daughters had sons of different names, of course, and even in the Rowland family, with three sons, there was not a son born to any – only to one girl in the family, Louise, who married Harry Stringfellow. Looking around at all the multitude of babies I see, I think it isn’t fair somehow that there is not a Howe, a Conn, or a Winslow left of the old families by name among the youngest generation.

One house built on 5th Street was the Methodist Church parsonage. It was completed in 1899 
at 219 5th St. The first resident was the Reverend J.D. Redd.

But to go back to geography? topography? — I am going to skip down 4th Street, on which no one lived that I remember except the Thoma family — he was the harness maker, and his wife was so pretty. They had three boys and a girl. I’m not sure they were living in the house they now occupy (Mrs. Thoma). In fact I believe they bought it later, but they lived there in 1903, I know, or about the time Mabel graduated and married Charlie Griffith.
 
The Schuermans had moved to Carrollton about 1884, almost the time Mama came to live at Grandma Howe’s⁷ home for a year, when I was little, for Aunt Sallie Howe, as well as several other girls, had quite fallen for Henry, who had a certain rough masculine charm, though a German ruthlessness with his employees (however, he was an impulsive, kindly fellow at heart, good to his family and the best of the three boys). About the time we came to Carrollton, he had won the heart of Ruth Winslow, tho the great opposition of her mother, who however afterwards was devoted to him. Will Schuerman had married Julia Berg, and their first child⁸ was born late in 1890, I think. Julia had a brother, Bob Berg, but he never made much history except as a hard drinker, like Jim Winslow who was, however, of a far superior intellect and amiability. I suppose the Schuermans lived where Miss Hattie did, but they rebuilt the house several times or fixed it over.

Oh, I forgot! In the brick house where cousin Ruth and Henry [Schuerman] lived afterwards, Mr. James Lowe was living when we went there; he was an Englishman or Canadian, I forget which, but I remember him, a quiet, small, oldish man. His much younger half-sister⁹ lived down near Grandpa Howe, and I played with the two boys Jim and Charlie, when I was living at Uncle Joe’s.

Now, coming from Seminary to Sycamore on Fourth St., across from the Schuerman house lived the Blessings, a remarkable German family of the most creditable kind (alas, almost extinct, it seems). The Schuermans were German but more well to do and not of a deeply religious or kindly nature like the Blessings, nor as eager for education. The house of this big family was on the same corner of 4th & Sycamore as our house (afterwards) was on 4th & High St. There was Mr. Blessing, who was a butcher and not highly educated himself, and Mrs., who was everything you ever read about a homely, hard working, ambitious-for-her-children immigrant mother. But I imagine she had a background, and certainly she had the drive. Mary (you remember her as Mrs. Told) was one of the first graduates of Carrollton High School –- she and Lena Smith and Lucy Wafford graduated together in exercises held at the 6th St. Schoolhouse in 1890, I believe, or thereabouts; Mr. Weaver was the principal, tho he left and Mr. Melcher came in the year I started to school (the fall of 1890; I may be a trifle off in these dates, but I can verify them later. The three graduation addresses were Mary’s in German, Lena’s in Latin, and Lucy’s in English.

A portion of Sarah's writing about the Blessing family, who lived at 4th & Sycamore in the 1890s.

The oldest Blessing son went on to college, was a Kappa Sig and I believe a Ph.D.; he was a very outstanding boy — went to Swarthmore, I think. George, his name was. Mary married Mr. Told of Vevay; he came from a pretty good family — his brother’s daughter, Mabel Told, used to visit them and she was a very attractive and [a] child who could both recite and sing — one of those “infant prodigies” of the 90s. (Sallie Howe [the writer herself] was rather considered on the verge of one but I am thankful to say lacked some of the characteristics). . . . [The information is ambiguous here; apparently, Mr. Told left the family after three children were born.] Mary raised them (very creditably for the material at hand) and worked for years at Howe’s Store¹⁰ to support them.

The second son graduated with John Howe¹¹ and went to “State College”¹² with Lewis Darling. I imagine he, too, was a Kappa Sig, for Lewis was. His name was Charlie Blessing; he was one of the “Dirty Dozen” with your Uncle Bob Salyers¹³, cousin John Howe¹¹, Charlie and Oscar Kipping, and Allen Gullion and Frank Grace. Then it seemed the rest were not so outstanding — there were two deaf & dumb children, Lily and Violet (you remember Lilly; she was very smart, worked for years at the store). Both attended the Deaf Mute Institute, and Violet married another boy who went to school there. Clarence and Rose were around my age (Rose a little older), and Clarence was not as smart as the other boys. Rose was bright, but not like Mary. She married a Craft and taught school for years at Hindman. The youngest boy was called Bolivar Buckner [Blessing], or "BBB" by most of the children, and there was another boy, Paul, a little older, rather effeminate, who was quite talented in music (but not a genius) and also, strangely enough, a fine mathematician, quite a wizard at it. He taught it afterwards at school somewhere. But the truth was that after the first four or five children came, they shouldn’t have had the others, for they had neither the health themselves or money for the education of the last ones. Buckner just ran wild, tho I believe he afterwards did very well when his brother George took him after the death of his parents.

Right across the street from the Blessings lived the Linnishes. He had only one leg, had lost his other I think in one of the wars in Germany. His daughter Lizzie (who married Clem Roche — they pronounced it Rick!). Come to think of it, they were probably Irish, tho her mother was German, I’m sure. All of them were Catholic, but the Blessings were Lutherans, I imagine. Anyway, with the Stamlers and other non-Catholic Germans they formed the backbone of the Presbyterian Church there at Carrollton. Lizzie was a very pretty girl, we could see them across from our house, as our hill-gardens touched at the bottom. Across from them on the fourth corner of 4th & Sycamore lived the Kreutzers. Mr. K was a protestant, I think, his wife was Catholic and raised the girls that way. One of his daughters married Bud Horan’s uncle, Jim, the handsomest Irishman who was ever 

seen on the streets of our fair city, it was said. (She was good-looking, too, and Elinor, their daughter, was a real beauty; she was Leonora’s age.) The other, Annie, married a brother of Laurence Grobmeier¹⁴ of the family of which I told you earlier. (You remember their children Osmond[?] and Florian Grobmyer, I’m sure.) Annie was one of those flamboyant dressers, wore big hats turned up on the side, and was suspected of using a little rouge.

A queer combination made up the people who lived on the left on Sycamore (as you went down 4th to High). In a tiny frame cottage lived old Mrs. Rhodenbach, an aunt, I believe, of Mrs. Glauber, Bertha’s mother (those early Catholic families are hard to untangle as to relationship). She had a daughter who married an Irishman named Donnelly and had the boy I mentioned, Eddie, and two daughters, Maggie, who lived with us when Leonora was born (Mrs. Weismiller next to Miss Rose’s, you remember) and Katie, who married Ernest Lawrence. 

Next to her lived Ben Myers, who was a bricklayer, and his wife and a pretty niece, Grace Covington. I’m trying to think whom she married. Next lived the Schonlows.¹⁵  ... 

Next to the Schonlows (a step down an alley, but almost on the same street) lived the Washingtons, of color, with a whole family of children. These two houses were back of the church. On summer evenings we could sit in our back yard (at 4th & High) and see the Washingtons disporting themselves in their back yard, with enough distance to make it a lovely picture of the old south and Stephen Foster.¹⁶ The littlest girl, Mesie, was a perfect little “topsy.” The old grandmother, a good old woman, who lived with them, fell down the steep back steps and broke her neck, but we weren’t looking over at the time. Alec was the name of the father. I’m hazy about the other side of the street of that square.

Of course, no one lived on 4th St. between Sycamore and High St. because those wonderful gardens stretched down from the houses on each street corner to a little stream which ran through a kind of culvert at the very depth of the little valley where the line fence ran. (When the “backwaters” came up, this filled out into a sizable stream.) And by the way, before leaving this part of town I find I didn’t mention the youngest Schonlow girl, Elizabeth, who married Ed Hill, the dairyman, and died with her second child, I believe. She was a very nice girl, too. His first wife was Laura Glauber, and of her family I will tell when we get to upper Sixth St. beyond Seminary, and there we might as well go after slipping out Fifth Street from High, first (and now we are getting down into where I lived). 

Leaving the Winslow and Donaldson homes to be described with High Street, Aunt Lou and Uncle Will6 lived at the same house then that Aunt Lou has lived in all her married life, but of course the place where the parsonage and the Robertson house and the one next to it are now was just their side yard and pasture, where we played many a happy hour. I don’t know who lived in the gray brick across the street, but the Goslees moved in there about 1891 (but when I first went to Mildred’s house, they were living on Main Street).

************** To Be Continued **************

 Endnotes:
¹The first child, as far as I know, was unnamed and died shortly after birth. The second child, William Beverly Winslow, died in 1907 at age 6. Several Winslow families gave their children the name William Beverly, honoring the ancestor of that name who lived in Carrollton from 1814 to 1883. The mention of "Aunt Lou" refers to daughter Louisiana Winslow (1852-1944),who married Sarah's uncle William Ficklin Howe (1846-1916).  
²Chandler Howe, Sarah's brother, who died 10 Nov 1889 at age 19 months.
³James Goslee Howe and George Thompson Howe, sons of Joseph B. and Sallie Goslee Howe
⁴Robert Hiram Froman, b. about 1885 to Sarah Varena Howe and Hiram M. Froman  
⁵Sarah married William Levi Salyers on 14 Dec 1905  
⁶Sarah's paternal uncle William Ficklin Howe and wife Louisiana "Lou" Winslow Howe had two sons, Winslow B. Howe and John Junior Howe.
⁷Reference to Alice Ada Cost Howe, who was Sarah's mother and her children's grandmother.
⁸Henry Burg Schuerman, born 17 Feb 1889  
⁹Sarah later corrects this relationship to step-daughter.
¹⁰Howe’s Department Store was owned and operated by Sarah’s grandfather, father, and uncles.   ¹¹John Junior Howe (1879-1939), son of Sarah's uncle William Ficklin Howe  
¹²University of Kentucky, Lexington
¹³Robert King Salyers, Sarah's father's brother, who died while in his teens
¹⁴Possibly Grobmeyer; Sarah wrote one, then wrote the other over it.
¹⁵Sarah wrote that this family had several sons and three daughters, but she named only Rudy, Annie, Mamie [or Marnie?], and Elizabeth.
¹⁶This paragraph reveals attitudes of that time period. We can't change history. 

Bits & Pieces: Transition From One Century to the Next

So far, this blog has mined scrapbooks about Sarah Eva Howe’s ancestors and then about her own childhood and young-adult years. Soon we will be jumping ahead to Sarah’s life as a wife and mother. There is a gap in the scrapbooks for 1900-1910, when Sarah and Will Salyers courted and married. In transition, here are some final bits and pieces from the 1800s into the early 1900s.

Trip to Chattanooga, 1895

Sarah, like the rest of the Howes, was a member of the Carrollton (Kentucky) Methodist Church. As a teen, she was active in the Epworth League youth programs locally, regionally, and nationally. Here’s what she wrote about attending a national event:

The summer of 1895 was a notable one for me for we went to Chattanooga to the Epworth League National convention. It included the northern and southern branches of the church and the Canadian as well. We stayed at a boarding hotel with other delegates. A special thing I remember about the “fare” was eating my first huckleberries the breakfast before we left. But I certainly remembered well the Convention, the great hall put up for the occasion the speakers and singers, the new hymns [unreadable] and “[When the] Roll Is Called Up Yonder.” Then our trips to the Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge.

Death of a Young Bride

N. Lucy Froman Howe, 1878

On 1 August 1879, at age 19 and still in her first year of marriage to Sarah's uncle John Irvin Howe,  N. Lucy Froman drowned in an accident on the Ohio River near Covington. A family servant also drowned.

A Carrollton (Kentucky) Democrat newspaper story about the tragedy is filled with the flowery language of the day, yet the writer didn't think to include Lucy's given name! To this day I do not know what the "N" initial stands for. The article also omits information handwritten in one of Sarah's scrapbooks: that Lucy was pregnant at the time of the accident.

I believe the photo shows Lucy in her wedding dress. Does she look wistful, or is there sadness there? Did she sense that happiness would last only a little while?

(On FindAGrave.com, A. L. Fisher)

 

   

 Family Baptisms

In Sarah's handwriting is this account of a few of the many baptisms within the Howe-Salyers family. The list begins with Sarah's parents. Unless otherwise noted, these were infant baptisms. Sarah, her siblings, and her children were likely baptized at the Carrollton (Kentucky) Methodist Episcopal Church.

• Robert James Howe (Sarah's father; no date listed)
• Alice Cost Howe (Sarah's mother; 1869,  age 10)
• Sarah Eva "Sallie" Howe (Sarah herself; 1884)
• Chandler Harper Howe (Sarah's brother; 1889)
• Leonora Alice Howe (Sarah's sister; 1898)
• William Levi Salyers (Sarah's husband; 1906, age 28)
• Robert King Salyers II (Sarah's first-born child; 1908)
• James Richard and Mary Alice Salyers (Sarah's twins; 1910)
• David H. Salyers II (Sarah's youngest child; 1916)

Leaders of the Methodist Church, 1891

Prominent in Sarah's scrapbooks are clippings, leaflets, and other ephemera related to all levels of the Methodist Episcopal Church. This postcard-size piece presents 18 clergymen serving as the church's bishops in 1891:
William Taylor 
Randolph Sinks Foster
Stephen Mason Merrill
James Mills Thoburn
Cyrus David Foss
E. G. Andrews
Thomas Bowman
John Fletcher Hurst
Henry White Warren
John Morgan Walden
William Xavier Ninde
Charles Henry Fowler
Willard Francis Mallalieu
John Heyl Vincent
John Philip Newman
Isaac Wilson Joyce
Daniel A. Goodsell
John N. Fitzgerald

Cultural Pursuits

Throughout the scrapbooks are programs from cultural events attended by various members of the Howe and Cost families. Here are two of them: a program from a formal symphonic concert in Cincinnati (no date found) and an invitation to a gathering in the home of Mr. and Mrs. F. P.(?) Stucy of Ghent in Carroll County, Kentucky. The invitation directs RSVPs to Jessie Tandy, likely a relative of James Tandy Ellis (1868-1942), a nationally recognized soldier, politician, musician, author, and poet. Sarah's Winslow relatives, especially poet Louisiana Winslow Howe, were well acquainted with James.

The Howe-Winslow Letters, Part 2: Dust-up Over the Ghent Ferry

Roughly half of the packet of letters between John J. Howe of Carrollton, Kentucky and his uncle Henry M. Winslow of Harriman, Tennessee are about Henry's trials and tribulations as owner of riverfront land and a ferryboat landing at Ghent, Kentucky. I found the letters both fascinating and surprising. After reading them, I think both Henry and his nephew may have been disorganized and easily distracted in their business practices and a bit inept in money management. In this post, I will tell you why I think so.

On Jan. 1, 1923, Henry wrote to Paul M. Williams of Lexington, inviting him to buy Henry's riverfront property in Ghent.

I have been paying no attention to this matter [the land and related ferry business] for many years past as I had too much on my hands here and have just let this matter rock along at the insignificant sum of $35 per month.  ...  This is a perpetual ferry franchise, tho I conveyed the right to the land in front of the town of Ghent for wharfage purposes exclusively reserving all of the ferry rights some years ago.

The Graham Ferry Company, which by the 1920s had been transporting people and goods across the Ohio River between Ghent, Kentucky, and Vevay, Indiana, for a century, paid Henry $35 per month to dock at the Ghent wharf.

Ferry (the Eva Everett?) at the Ghent Riverfront

Throughout the packet are letters from John (Henry's agent for business conducted in Carrollton and Ghent) to Martha A. Graham, acknowledging receipt of the monthly rent payments from the ferry company. Also there are a few letters asking about a missed payment. These inquiries were sent months after the fact, and John's words included phrases such as "I have no record" and "am unable to account for." Was he just softening the demand for a late payment, or was he admitting he could have misplaced the rent checks?

Letters from the rest of 1923 include information about both men getting loans of $500 and $1000 from multiple banks; both men receiving notices of late re-payments on those loans; and notes related to John's campaign for U.S. Senate. My impression is that the campaign was soaking up much of the borrowed funds.

On Feb. 8, 1924,  J. L. Graham writes to John Howe about a problem with the Ghent ferry landing:

Dear Sir:
As manager of the Vevay & Ghent Ferry Co. I wish to draw your attention to the attitude of the Ghent Authorities in regard to the road leading from the bank at the top of ferry grade to the state pike, "about one square." They stopped all tobacco trucks (during the recent thaw) coming from the ferry.
The tobacco pool officer proposed to put metal on the street & then continue to haul but they [the town of Ghent] would not permit them to do so.
I have put from $25 to $100 of metal on the ferry grade each year for the past several years, have had to do so to keep road somewhere near on a level as we have deep deposits of soil on each side of the road every year, as a result of this new metal & constant washing to remove the mud. I have a good hard road [is he referring to the ferry grade on the Indiana side of the river?], but the town of Ghent has only put about 5 yards of gravel on the grade in the past 5 years. I was just wondering if they could be persuaded to repair same so as not to stop our business, it seems there was an agreement between Mr. Winslow and the Town of Ghent whereby the town was to keep the street & grade in repair (to the foot of the bank) in exchange for the Ferry landing proper just one square farther upstream, the idea being that the large str [steamboat] could not use the lower landing during low water.
I have had to move the ferry dock up to the upper landing for the past several summers & the City authorities have had the [writing illegible] notify me to not use their landing.
I wish you would kindly investigate this matter right away.
Yours very truly,
J. L. Graham

In a letter dated March 24, 1924, a man named Leon Ash asked John to find out the lowest price Henry would accept for the Ghent ferry. (I assume that means the land and ferry rights.) John wrote to Henry:

Ash is now living in Vevay and is more or less familiar with the trouble Graham has been having about the road, but nevertheless is interested and, as I have thought for some time, is the best prospective purchaser around here.

Henry responded while on vacation in Florida:

On Sept. 16 – six months after Mr. Ash first expresses interest in buying the land – John invites Ash to his office to discuss the matter, saying that he and Henry had not given this matter consideration recently but would be pleased to hear from Ash if he was still interested. Were John and Henry so busy with other matters (or so disorganized) that they forgot about this possible offer? Or was this gamesmanship on their part?

John and Mr. Ash did meet, and on Sept. 19 John wrote to Henry:

In response, Henry balked at $5,000 and favored a $7,000 minimum. He also expressed a desire to sell the "circus" lot (see note below under "Two Other Bits of Interest . . .") for $300-$375 and, in a later note, proposed selling his lots on Second Street to Dave Miller for a good price – and offered to finance the purchase. Obviously, Henry is selling off assets to raise cash – either for John's campaign (to which he contributed $10,000) or for other reasons.

Several letters sent by both John and Henry during 1924 include comments about lack of funds – not just for the campaign but for meeting general obligations. The year 1925 began with Henry alerting John that he had received no ferry rental checks for the past 14 months – a total of $490. The Grahams routinely sent the monthly rent checks to John, who would send them on to his uncle. Why had Henry received no checks for 14 months? Was John so busy with his campaign and with his work as commonwealth's attorney that he didn't get around to sending them? Did John (I hate to think it) apply the money to his campaign with intentions of making good sometime down the road? Why did it take Henry 14 months to notice he hadn't been receiving his money? More hints at disorganization and careless business practices on both sides.

Then Henry got into a bit of tax trouble. Judge Matthews of Carroll County notified Henry (through John) that the Ghent School District expected Henry to pay school taxes on his ferry property. Henry offered several reasons why the school board had no right to tax the property. Judge Matthews held steady, warning that the school district could proceed to sell the ferry franchise to recoup the unpaid taxes. In a letter dated June 19, 1924, John postulated that by hiring someone to monitor the ferry business for a month, they had brought unwanted attention to themselves. He also reported that the judge had made some unflattering remarks about the ferryboat owners.

It seems that our having those receipts checked for a month has revived this old ambition on the part of the Ghent folks to gouge you for taxes. Judge Matthews was anything but complimentary concerning the Grahams, saying that they were lacking in enterprise, and most difficult to get along with, and that that was the reason why it would be impossible for you to sell the ferry at anything like a reasonable price as long as the Grahams would have to be contended with.

On July 2, 1925, Mr. Albertson, apparently the manager of Henry M. Winslow's law office in Harriman, Tennessee, reported to John that Winslow wanted to pay the taxes to avoid interest or penalties, but that the firm's bank account was "somewhat low" and would not cover the cost. Mr. Albertson wrote:

If the Ghent folks make demand for the payment of this $160 before Mr. Winslow sends it to you, just give them your check for it and then draw a sight draft on Mr. Winslow thru the First National Bank of this city to cover same. And I will of course take care of the draft when presented for payment.

The tax was apparently still unpaid on Aug. 29, 1925, when John notified Henry that the trustees of Ghent had hired an attorney, J. Wirt Turner of Newcastle, Ky., to collect the tax payment. 

On Sept. 12, John sent Henry the school district officers' receipt for $160. It appears that Henry Winslow lost the battle and paid the tax.

I'll have to do more research to determine if Henry ever sold the various parcels of land, if he got the prices he wanted, and if either man ever managed to solve their cash-flow issues. 

Two Other Bits of Interest

On March 9, 1923, John notified Henry that Joe Miller offered to pay $10 per month to rent Henry's "circus lot" to cultivate corn. I think this lot was close to Henry's riverfront land, because I came across a picture of elephants boarding the Robert T. Graham ferryboat.

On Nov. 30, 1923, John wrote to his uncle about his busy days in court and refers to his hope to win a seat in the U.S. Senate. Notice the second paragraph in this excerpt. He mentions that the court in Carroll County had, for the first time, women serving on the jury. Momentous event!

UPDATE
Within an hour of publishing this post, I found this small document. It appears to be a Kentucky State Bank deposit receipt showing that John J. Howe deposited a $650 check from J.L. Graham on Jan. 15, 1937. What was Graham paying for? Henry Winslow died in 1931. Was John his executor? Was Graham buying ferry rights from Winslow's estate? Was he paying a previous debt to Henry or John? Was this a payment toward buying the land at which the ferry docked?

The mysteries continue.



More information and images of Ghent ferryboats and related topics:
Switzerland County (Indiana) Historical Society
     http://www.switzcomuseums.org/pdf_files/river_pdfs/Ferry_House.pdf
Kenton County (Kentucky) Public Library
       http://www.kentonlibrary.org/genphotos/index.php?q=Ferries
 Kentucky Kinfolk
     http://www.kykinfolk.com/carroll/facts.htm
Juanita Graham – First woman in the district to get a river pilot's license (1900)
     http://www.nkyviews.com/carroll/text/junita_graham.html
News of a fatal accident involving the ferry
     http://www.nkyviews.com/carroll/text/auto_off_ghent_ferry.html
More photos and history of ferryboats
     http://www.nkyviews.com/carroll/carroll_ghent_ferry.htm
"Brief History of Switzerland County, Indiana" 
     https://archive.org/stream/briefhistoryofsw00veva/briefhistoryofsw00veva_djvu.txt
"19th Century Overview of Vevay, Indiana"
     http://switzcotourism.com/19th-century-overview-of-vevay-indiana/

Photo Credit: The ferry image in this post appears on the website nkyviews.com. Original source: Public Library of Cincinnati and Hamilton County.

The Howe-Winslow Letters, Part 1: John and Uncle Henry Confer on John's Campaign for U.S. Senate – and Blame the Anti-Saloon League for His Loss

The handwriting above this photo of John Junior Howe (1879-1939) says "vote for." Because of other items in the scrapbook, we think the writing was by John J.'s 1st cousin once removed, David H. Salyers II (my husband's father, 1915-1981). "D2" would have been 9 years old in 1924, when John was a candidate in the Kentucky Democratic primary for U.S. Senate. John would have been 45. Although John ran for public office several times, I think this scrapbook entry pertains to his unsuccessful race for U.S. Senate.

Remember my comments in the previous post about having a packet of letters between John and his uncle Henry M. Winslow? I found a picture of Henry in the Carroll County section at Northern Kentucky Views. It identifies him as an lawyer and president of Carrollton National Bank. The image is not dated. Findagrave.com
 reports his birth date as 3 Aug 1850 (Carrollton, Kentucky) and his death year as 1931 (Sarasota, Florida). I'd estimate Henry to be 40 to 45 years old in the photo. (There's gray in the beard but no facial wrinkles.) That dates the image to 1890-1895. I'm  speculating, of course.

Most of the letters in the packet include one or both of these topics:

• John J. Howe's campaign as the "dry ticket" candidate in the 1924 Democratic primary for U.S. Senate. (Remember that several of the Howe men were card-carrying, tee-totaling members of the Temperance movement.) Most of the letters on this topic were focused on campaign finance.
• Henry's trials and tribulations related to owning the Carroll County, Kentucky, land from which a ferry made sojourns from Ghent to Vevay, Indiana, home base of the ferry's manager, Martha J. Graham.

In today's post, we focus on the campaign.

The Senate Primary Campaign of John J. Howe

John used caution as he made his decision to throw his hat in the U.S. Senate political ring. Here's an except from a letter he wrote to Uncle Henry on Nov. 9, 1923:

Now that the Democratic state ticket has been elected by such an overwhelming majority [William J. "Honest Bill" Fields, who like John J. Howe was a Methodist and a prohibitionist, was elected governor], I will soon begin to enter into the activities of my canvass much more vigorously and will shortly confer with some of my most dependable advisers preliminary to making my formal announcement.

On Dec. 3, 1923, Henry expresses a possible obstacle between John and victory in the Democratic primary for U.S. Senate:

I am a little astonished and concerned to know what effect Gen. J. Tandy Ellis' candidacy will have upon your prospects, thinking probably that Senator Stanley's friends are pulling him out into the race in order to divide the dry vote with you.

(Augustus O. Stanley represented Kentucky in both the U.S. House and the U.S. Senate and was the state's governor 1915-1919. Fellow Kentuckian  J. Tandy Ellis had multiple connections with him. Stanley was Howe's victorious opponent in the Democratic Party primary for U.S. Senate in 1924, but he lost the general election to Republican Frederick M. Sackett)

Just three days later, Henry writes to his nephew:

I got it in the neck to the tune of about $6000 in the Roane Chancery Court last week. And I am proceeding to pay it up before I leave here tomorrow to meet you in Lexington on Saturday.  . . . In view of this large unexpected demand upon me which I am proceeding to raise the money and pay off rather than continue longer in the courts, kindly do not clip or send in any of the coupons or expect any interest payment before the first of January on behalf of your mother and Lille, as I will be away in Florida until about the first of next year and may not be able to leave my finances in such condition as to meet these demands before that time.

Henry apparently was a defendant and lost in court to the tune of $6,000.

In the packet of letters I purchased, the correspondence about the campaign jumps from December 1923 to July 1924. Now we see a lot of references to cash, loans, rejected loan applications, and the like. On July 2, the president of Louisville National Bank, Richard Bean, writes to John J. Howe at his campaign headquarters, Room 349 Seelbach Hotel in Louisville, with carbon copies to John at his bank in Carrollton and to HMW, likely Henry M. Winslow in Tennessee:

I return herein the note inclosed [sic] in yours of the 30th ult. for $1000.00 because we are not seeking outside loans now Mr. Howe, and, of course, the loan as you offer it is rather unusual anyway. Whenever individuals borrow over $1000.00 we generally have collateral. I hope you can furnish that on this paper without any inconvenience.

I interpret the language to mean that John proposed borrowing $1,000 or more from the Bank of Louisville but was turned down flat.

Then on July 7, Henry replies to a letter from John – a letter in which John wrote, "It will be necessary soon for me to have more and if you are not coming this way soon maybe you better arrange it if possible." Henry responds:

I was in Chattanooga this morning and sold some of my stuff at really about 10% less than I thot [sic] it was worth and nearly 10% less than I was substantially offered last January, and I got for it the enclosed cashier's check for $1820 which I have endorsed to you. Do you suppose that you will be able to pull thru with this? If not, give me the best estimate you can as to what any balance you think I ought to contribute, will likely be.

Henry asks for the total cost of what campaign advertising has cost in the county and city newspapers, as well as the cost of travel and hotel lodging. He reports that relatives in Lexington have commented that John has "about a million of his pictures put up over the cities and country on every post, tree, telephone pole, windows, etc." While Henry admits that the relatives might be exaggerating a bit, he suggests that this kind of publicity may be "over-done."

He adds his opinion that the "Democrats in New York at the Convention are acting a fool very considerably and their chances of success in November maybe considerably lessened by reason of the bickerings they have had among themselves and that Coolidge and LaFollette may each reap considerable benefit for the lack of gumption among the democrats." (Indeed, Republican candidate Coolidge defeated Democrat John W. Davis and Progressive candidate LaFollette.)

Four days later, Henry returns to the topic of posters, relaying reports from Lexington:

. . . some of your friends as well as your enemies are adversely criticising [sic] your extravagant use of posters in that section of the country. I suggest if you should not warn your county managers against repeating this kind of advertising to the extent of over-doing it. However good this "poster" kind of advertising may have been in the more or less remote past, when it was first started, I hardly think it is apt to amount to much after it has become a sort of "old song" to which little attention is paid.

On July 17, Henry expresses dissatisfaction with the system of campaign finance. As I read it, I wondered if the Anti-Saloon League, a powerful, temperance-promoting social/political organization, was demanding money from the candidates it supported. Later in the letter, Henry expresses appreciation for the way a Republican running as a Progressive is funding his campaign. Again, we hear themes that may be familiar today, almost 93 years later.

The letters continue, back and forth. The men occasionally meet in Lexington, Carrollton, or Cincinnati to discuss campaign strategy and family business. In what appears to be his last letter to John during the campaign, Henry urges attention to "getting out the unpurchasable [sic], reliable and honest voters."

 

The primary election must have been soon after Henry wrote this letter, because a letter written by Henry's daughter Alice on Aug. 7 expresses sadness and surprise over John's loss.

It seemed to me that every body [sic] I knew was going to vote for John as there is so much feeling against Stanley. ... I was sorry too when John sent out word after the election that he would support Stanley in the fall. I think that was a mistake as well as wrong. John knows the type of man Stanley is and all he stands for, and to think that just because he is Democrat that he [John] would support him now in the Fall. It would be far better for us to have a good dry republican for a couple of years and get rid of Stanley than to keep him as a disgrace to the party and state.

The packet contains post-election letters, more of them from Henry to John that from John to Henry. We must extrapolate some meaning and make some guesses along the way. I get a sense from Henry's letter dated Aug. 9 that John wrote to him soon after the loss at the polls, thanking his uncle for his generous campaign support (Henry contributed $10,000 in an eight-month period) and maybe apologizing that he did not win. Henry responds:

I do not regret a thing in regard to the whole matter, except that the anti-saloon league did us up the way it did. I am of the opinion that its management is mostly rotten and merely, in recent years especially, becomes a mere graft on the candidates which it sees proper to to endorse for its supposed strength.

Perhaps my old friend Young and some few are reasonably honest (being largely deceived of the Devil however) but they are for the most part nearly as rotten as the old parties have gotten to be, and in their vain imaginations only pretending to earn their salaries and perquisitses [sic].

If in your experience with them you think that I am much misjudging them I would be glad to know.

. . . Still yet your affectionate uncle,

Henry

The last few letters about the campaign and election tell us a lot about money. It's easy to assume that both John and Henry were prosperous. Both came from entrepreneurial, successful families. Both worked as attorneys. Both were bank officers and had financial interests in land and other assets. The letters from Henry seem to cast doubt on that assumption. In a letter dated Sept. 3, 1924, Henry itemizes his outstanding loans:

I am up to my limit in both the banks here and another bank in Tennessee, besides having $4100, which I renewed at the Louisville National Bank, with the understanding that I would pay it about the first of November. This, besides the $5000 which I have from the Carrollton National Bank, including a $3000 note of Mr. Kennedy, discounted there by me. . . . I will see what other help I can render you, but if I add on another thousand, it will have to be by increasing my notes at Carrollton from $5000 to $6000 and putting up collateral. And taking out Mr. Kennedy's note discounted there.

Three days later, John writes back to his Uncle Henry, describing his own financial woes:

Did John accidentally buy a farm? Was he at the auction to inflate the bidding but got caught with the high bid? If he made a habit of that, it's no wonder he lacked cash!

More questions than answers at this point – and some of those answers may never be found.

The Political Howe: John Junior Howe

Most if not all of the Howes of Carrollton, Kentucky, were political, I suppose. They paid attention to elections, supported their chosen candidates, and discussed politics within the family and the community. Our scrapbooker Sarah Eva Howe was writing about her own political opinions while she was still in elementary school!

In today's post, we learn about John Junior Howe, who actually ran for political office. Some historians and genealogists misidentify him as John Howe, Jr., but family records and other writings clearly have "Junior" as his middle name. His parents, William Ficklin Howe and Louisiana "Lou" Winslow Howe, named him for William's father, the Irish immigrant John Howe (1823-1890).

John Junior Howe was born 5 November 1879 into the third generation of Howes to live and work in Carrollton, Kentucky. (See his childhood photo in the post about the "Highly Accomplished Family of William Ficklin Howe.") Sarah mentioned him several times in her scrapbook writings, commenting about how well he did in school and how proud she was of his accomplishments. He was her first cousin, four years older than Sarah, and the brother of Sarah's cousin/best friend Jenne Howe.

At this point, most of my information about John comes from Google Books. Combining family notes, magazines published online, and a bio included in History of Kentucky, volume 5 (pages 238 and 239), by William Elsey Connelley and Ellis Merton Coulter, I developed this profile:

John was one of nine graduates in the Carrollton High School Class of 1896. He received a bachelor's degree in 1900 and a master of arts degree there in 1903, both from Kentucky Wesleyan College (then in Winchester, Kentucky). He went home to Carrollton to "read law" at Winslow & Winslow – the law firm of his maternal grandfather William Beverly Winslow and uncle George B. Winslow. Eventually the firm became known as Winslow & Howe, a general law practice that listed among its clients the Carrollton National Bank, Carrollton Furniture Manufacturing Company, Jett Brothers Distilling Company, Adkinson Brothers Company, Howe Brothers, L&N Railroad, and Carrollton & Worthville Railroad. The Winslows and Howes had family connections with several of those businesses.

Like several of his relatives, John earned his law degree at the University of Michigan (1909). He was a member of Kappa Sigma Fraternity.

John had a number of public service and political roles:

• 1909 to 1911 – cashier of the City of Carrollton. 
• 1911 to 1913 – judge of the local Police Court 
• 1913 (December) – commonwealth's attorney for the 15th Judicial District, which included Boone, Carroll, Gallatin, Grant, and Owen counties.
• 1915 – traveled to Washington to offer his services to the Judge Advocate General. Apparently he was not called into national service, but he served on the Carroll County Draft Board.
• 1916 & 1917 – president, Commonwealth's Attorneys Association of Kentucky
• 1924 – primary election candidate for U.S. Senate (source: Political Graveyard); campaign headquarters at the Seelbach Hotel in Louisville. He named Ward C. Yager, county attorney of Gallatin County, to be temporary chairman of his campaign. At his undergraduate alma mater, Kentucky Wesleyan, students formed a “Howe for Senate Club” with membership exceeding 200. In spite of strong support from his home region, he lost the election.

Undated image courtesy nkyviews.com

John was a leader in several local, state, and national Masonic organizations and a steward in Carrollton Methodist Episcopal Church, South. Somehow he also had time to serve as a director of Carrollton National Bank (founded as Howe & Son by his grandfather and father) and secretary of Howe Brothers (the retail store launched by his grandfather, father, and uncles).

His name was popping up in political circles when he was still in his 20s. By his 30s, he was elected to the post of commonwealth's attorney. Later he became a federal prosecutor.

When John was in his early 40s, his fraternity brothers were promoting him for governor:

. . . the Democrats of Kentucky still talk of electing a governor some time soon. And many of them mention the name of John Junior Howe (Michigan) when they talk on this subject. If they will take our advice they'll decide on Colonel Howe at once; they could not do better. He would wear gubernatorial honors gracefully and easily and perform gubernatorial duties fearlessly and well. Here's Howe! By the way, John Junior was elected prosecutor for the Fifteenth Judicial District of his state in November, for the third time and without opposition, as exclusively predicted by The Caduceus and everybody else.

The Caduceus, Volume 37 (Kappa Sigma Fraternity, 1921)

Apparently, John was not all work and no play. Here's news from the same publication describing a "smoker" during the Kappa Sigma national Grand Conclave of 1921 in Chicago. It shows John in a different light. The writer assured his readers that no drink stronger than iced tea was served that Tuesday night (July 19, 1921) at the University Club, and that the evening was a resounding success with entertainment provided solely by Kappa Sigma members. "No professionals were present except the Hawaiian dolly which John Junior Howe presented to us with a flowery and flowing oration." (The writer goes on to report that the "dolly" was a professional singer.)

Based on what info I can find about John, he never married. He lived his entire adult life with his mother and two unmarried sisters, Lillie and Jenne. He died 29 July 1939 in Good Samaritan  hospital in Cincinnati. His death certificate reports cause of death as "aortic insufficiency with cardiac decompensation" – in other words, congestive heart failure. Like his parents and several of his siblings and cousins, he was buried at the Carrollton IOOF Cemetery.

A few months ago I found for sale a collection of Howe-related ephemera. The collection included about 93 pieces – letters, telegrams, checks, notes, and other items. The seller's description pointed out that most of the correspondence was between John J. Howe and one of his uncles, Tennessee attorney Henry M. Winslow. Several of the letters were about John's unsuccessful primary campaign for the U.S. Senate. Many others concerned legal actions involving a ferry business in Ghent in the Winslow-Howe home county of Carroll (Kentucky). Those letters apparently included "some unflattering dialogue" about a family named Graham.

Did I buy that collection? Of course I did! In future posts, I'll report anything of interest.