Aunt Kate's letter related life on homestead

During the Grant County Centennial I came to know Aunt Kate through photos and some of her writings. Today Aunt Kate's granddaughter, Kay Evans, shares a letter Aunt Kate wrote about her experiences. Read on.

The Grant County Historical Society has compiled several volumes of Grant County history. The books are available for purchase at the Historical Society Museum gift shop in Ephrata.

I bought the series in 2009 and secured permission to relay some of the history through this column.

Memories of Grant County, compiled from taped interviews by the Grant County Historical Society.

Today we continue the story of Hartline, by Kathryn (Kay) Evans, recorded May 9, 1978:

My folks also adopted a daughter. She was 6 years old when she came to us, Roberta Anne. She now lives in Cherry Valley, California. They always had room in their home and their hearts for many young people and I just couldn't count on one hand, or two hands or three hands how many people they did for and gave a home to. Both were tireless workers in the community holding about every office there was to be held.

They went through tough, hard times-recalling those bleak days of 1929. Mother often said that if there had been any place to go they probably would have gone, but fortunately stayed and acquired land as times got better, the land, all of which, we farm now.

My Dad continued farming until 1945 and was forced to retire because of a heart attack. In those tough days if it hadn't been for the garden, eggs, cream cans, the beef and the pork, we probably would not have survived, like a lot of other people.

We were happy that in later years they were able to enjoy the fruits of their labor and do some traveling. The big thrill was a trip to Wales. My Dad laughingly said that my mother kicked over every tombstone in Wales looking for a relative. She was quite successful. I have a cousin with whom I cor?respond and Gala and Herb Jenkins were fortunate enough to visit this family in Wales. I am still hoping.

Hartline has been home to my family for five generations. My daughter and her family and hus?band live there now. When I was a freshman at the University of Puget Sound in my English and speech class I wished I could remember some of those yarns my grandmother, this was my mother's mother, used to tell about.

She, at the time, was living with her daughter, who was a widow, in Winlock. So I wrote to Grandma asking her if she could tell me something, and she wrote me a 27-page manuscript. I won't go through it all but I do want to highlight it. To me it is a real prize. I have given copies of this letter to the Smithsonian Institution and every sig?nificant place in the United States.

My grandmother, Kate Williams Roberts, was Herb Jenkins' aunt, a sister of his mother, Bess. Believe me my grandmother wasn't a fashion plate; she couldn't have cared less. As long as the safety pins held out she was off and going. Maybe many of you knew her.

She was known as Aunt Kate throughout the county. She taught in Wilson Creek and Pinto Ridge and many other communities. I stayed with her the year I was in third grade and to this day I don't like sardines and Jello. She fed me up. And I can remember, speaking of hats, one day she came to church and had on this nice little hat with a flower on it, but she had it on backwards. My mother reached over to her and said, "Mom, your hat is on back?wards." She turned around and said, "If you hadn't said anything no one would have ever known it." So that is just the way she was. We loved her and she had a mind that wouldn't quit.

This is part of Aunt Kate's letter written in 1940:

"I was born on February 17, 1867 on a farm called Bush Lodge Farm in Pembrokeshire, South Wales near the great British naval base, Pembroke Dock, in the southwestern part of Wales.

"The extent to which Wales has been bombed this last summer, I might not know it now. My father came to northwestern Ohio when I was a year old, and six months later sent for Mother and me. We lived for a short time with a farm family for whom my father worked.

"Now I am not going into this but she tells about when she came to Washington Territory, which I think will be more interesting. Throughout this she tells me how she hates to write. Anyway, after I had the letter everyone wanted it, but it is just like this, they can have a copy.

"I came to Eastern Washington in March 1889 while Washington was still a territory. It became a state November 11 of the same year. The Great Northern and the Northern Pacific railroads were at that time booming the West, especially Washington Territory.

"I was one of five persons who came out from my old home community at the same time, a married couple and two bachelors who went back to Ohio as soon as they could earn money enough.

"I took up a homestead a few miles north of where Hartline now is. Do any of you know where the old Edwards ranch in Hartline is? It is just about a mile north of where they lived. "But at that time there was neither town nor railroad. I should have stated that we left the train at Sprague, which was then the end of a railroad division and had the Great Northern machine shop, which made it a flourishing town.

"I came out to the Big Bend in a wagon with my uncle, who had come out the fall before. We had a little cook stove, a few cooking utensils, and flour and other groceries.

"I boarded out for a few weeks until I had hauled enough lumber to build a 12 x 14 shack of upright boards, a good shingled roof and floor of 12-inch boards the same as the walls. The wind came in freely through the cracks which appeared as the boards kept shrinking.

"It was rather lonely the first few nights alone on the homestead. I had never even slept alone in a bed until then and to sleep utterly alone in a shack on the prairie, without a house in sight, was a new experience. I soon got used to it however and cared not at all.

The Rev. David H. Crawford compiled and published a history of families in and surrounding Wilson Creek titled, "Family Memories of Wilson Creek Area." The book was printed in 1978, which was the 75th anniversary of the town. David's son, John Crawford, has given permission for those memories to be a part of this column.

Today we continue (complete) the story of Raymond William Kelby:

In 1955 we were able to have our granddaughter Judy placed in Rainier Children's School at Buckley and Audrey and I devoted our lives to help her. We provided all her personal items.

We, as well as some of our "pro-German" friends in Wilson Creek made several trips a year to Buckley taking Easter baskets, apples, watermelons, Christmas presents and loads of clothes donated by the people of Wilson Creek to the hall where Judy was, so that all the children could have something since a lot of people never came back to see their children or relatives or leave anything for them.

When Audrey passed away in November 26, 1963 I continued on in her name too. In January 1968 I was able to have Judy transferred to Lakeland Village at Medical Lake and once again my friends and I made several trips a year to bring things to her hall. I think that it would be appropriate here to give recognition to all the wonderful people in and around Wilson Creek who were so unselfish in donating clothing, time, other items and apples etc. to Judy's hall at Buckley and Lakeland village.

I can tell you that everything so donated was eagerly accepted and used to provide all the patients at Lakeland Village with the clothing and of course, the fruit for their meals. The clothes are really needed and utilized and I want to thank you all for being so generous. Best yet, is that I, "Little Ray", didn't have to do any angling to have you people contribute.