Barbara Weber’s mother, Juanita Cole Woods, was born September 26, 1900, in Ralls County in northeast Missouri, and by the time of her death on January 9, 1999, she had witnessed almost the entire 20th century. In her childhood and as a young woman, she had ridden in horse-drawn buggies and surreys, and then, as an adult, via television, seen a man walk on the moon.

When Juanita was in her late eighties, her daughter suggested that she, for the benefit of her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, sit down with a tape recorder and narrate how life was when she was growing up.

This then is her story, and it is also a story that reflects the lives of countless other rural Missourians who lived in that era.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Juanita Cole Woods as a young woman, ca. 1920. Courtesy of Barbara W. Weber.

My mother and father, Juanita Cole and Harold Woods, grew up 1 1/2 miles from each other, attended the same country school and high school, and the new home that they moved into shortly after their marriage was located in that same community.

There were three daughters, Janice, Naomi, and myself, Barbara; 9 grandchildren; 13 great-grandchildren (including one deceased, and one born after Juanita’s death, in July 1999); 1 step-great-grandchild; and 2 step-great-great-grandchildren (a great-great-grandchild was born in July 2002).

In the fall of 1952, my mother’s parents moved into our home. Due to the failing health of my grandfather, who was 91, they were unable to remain in their own farm home. My grandmother was 90.

My grandfather passed away in early 1953 and my grandmother continued to make her home with us until her death in 1960. Although she was quite alert, she was a semi-invalid for several years due to complications from a broken hip. My mother provided most of the care for both of her parents.

Her nursing skills were called upon again when my father was diagnosed with cancer in the fall of 1958. After major surgery and a long period of convalescence, he was able to return to farming for several years.

In June of 1965, my husband, Wayne, died as a result of a farm accident, and in November of that same year, my father passed away due to a recurrence of cancer.

My mother did not consider leaving their farm home and lived there alone except for weekends, when my sister, Naomi, came home from her employment. When Naomi retired in 1994, she moved back to live with Mother permanently.

	Even in her nineties, Juanita still loved to use her riding mower. Photograph, ca. 1990s. Courtesy of Barbara W. Weber.

Mother enjoyed excellent health and remained very active, caring for her many, many, varieties of flowers, and mowing her large lawn with her riding mower, which she loved to do. She continued her mowing until she was well into her nineties and her doctor advised against it. She also had a garden.

She continued teaching her Sunday school class, did volunteer work for the American Cancer Society for many years, and made frequent trips to the nursing home to visit relatives and acquaintances.

She drove her car up into her nineties, also—a 1962 Ford—which she would not part with because my father had bought it.

Her mind remained very alert, and her wish to remain in the home where she had lived for over 75 years was realized.

 

Juanita's Story

I, Juanita Cole Woods, was born September 26, 1900, to George Cumberland and Katherine Elizabeth Underwood Cole at their home at Route 1, Center, Missouri.

Juanita at one year old, 1901. Courtesy of Barbara W. Weber.

I was told I weighed eight pounds. I wasn’t named until I was nearly a year old. My grandfather, Judge J. H. Underwood, wanted my parents to call me Mary, but there were a number of Mary’s in the family. Aunt Lida (my mother’s sister) came for a visit and suggested the name Juanita after a song that she liked so much, and that became my name, only shortened to Nita most of the time.

I had a half-brother, Justin, who was 10 years older than I was. My sister, Florence, was born August 21, 1902.

I am about to tell you the way we lived in those early days.

Life was very different than it is today. Our house was heated by wood stoves, and there were no bathrooms in the homes at that time.

There was no electricity. We used kerosene lamps that had to be filled with oil, wicks trimmed, and chimneys washed daily. An Aladdin lamp was bought when it became available, and was a very great improvement.

When I was very young, Dad put a pitcher pump and an enamel sink and drain into what had been the pantry so all water didn’t have to be carried in from outside.

When he built the washhouse and smoke house over the cellar, a pitcher pump was put in that with a galvanized sink.

Instead of bathtubs, we used a galvanized laundry tub by the kitchen range to take our baths. The water was heated on the kitchen stove.

Our stove had a reservoir on the side that we kept filled with water and was heated as the stove was heated. Ashes from the stoves had to be taken out often. To start a fire, the grates had to be cleared off, crumpled papers were put on them, dried chips from the woodpile or corncobs were placed on top of the paper, then wood on top of that, and maybe a little kerosene poured on top of that and then you lit a match.

To prepare for fuel for winter, my father would go to the woods with an ax and crosscut saw and cut down trees, then trim them and haul them on the running gears of the wagon to the woodpile and stack them until enough was accumulated to have a wood sawing.

These lengths had to be split with an ax into the right lengths for the cook stove. As Florence and I got to a suitable age, one of our duties was to carry in wood and to gather the dried chips to have on hand to start fires.

Another task we had was to gather eggs and feed the chickens. I learned to count by gathering eggs.

	Juanita’s girlhood home in Center, Missouri, early 1900s. Courtesy of Barbara W. Weber.

Mama baked cornbread to start the little chickens. The cornbread was fed two or three times a day and the hens took care of [the chicks] the rest of the time, running free over the place. With the brooder house, feed was placed in self-feeders and chickens ate when they felt hungry. A lot of the feed was bought at the feed store, and it had more and better ingredients in it, making the chickens grow much faster. It was in 100-pound sacks.

We culled our hens. We caught each one and measured the distance between the pelvic bones: one finger width, the hen wasn’t laying; two finger widths, fair; three finger widths, a good layer. The non-layers were sold. To keep track of the age of the chickens, a celluloid ring was placed on one leg. There were different colors for different years.

We didn’t have a refrigerator in my parents’ home, but had a rock-walled cellar with a dirt floor where we took the milk, butter, and cream to keep them cool. Each meal we would carry them up and back later. Apples, potatoes, and canned goods in glass jars were stored there, too.

Some people had what they called an icehouse built especially to keep ice that was put up in the winter. Big blocks of ice were sawed from the pond and packed with sawdust to keep [them]. I think there were double walls where the sawdust was packed.

The first vacuum cleaner I ever saw was brought to our home by Cleve Kauble. He was selling them, but there was no electricity. It was run by pump and bellows—panels you opened up and closed. We were astonished at the amount of dirt collected. You really had to work to get it out of the carpet.

In the earlier days, we didn’t have a telephone either. Dad and Uncle Carey strung a wire from tin cans on walls, between their houses, which were a half-mile apart, and would tap on the cans to get their attention, and could communicate to some extent. I’ve been told that when Dad was in the woods between the houses and wanted something from Uncle Carey’s, he’d put the wire between his teeth and let them know what he wanted.

When we had a telephone line put in there were a number of families on the line, called a party line, with a dozen or more subscribers. Each family had a number of rings to call and these were rung by turning a crank on the side of the phone. Our ring was two shorts and one long. Mr. Woods’s was one long, one short, and one long. Uncle Carey’s was three longs and one short, and so forth. If you wanted to talk to someone on another line, you rang one long ring for “Central” and they connected you to the line and rang the party. It was very interesting to listen in on calls and much information was passed along that way. Everybody did it and thought nothing of it.

Ministers were frequent visitors in our home when I was growing up. Our parents discussed sermons and brought out points they agreed with or disagreed with according to the Bible. Highest moral standards were taught and practiced. We always had Christian literature in our home, church papers and so forth and nothing immoral considered. Thanks were always offered at mealtime.

George and Katherine Cole, Juanita’s parents, ca. 1900. Courtesy of Barbara W. Weber.

There was no smoking, no drinking, and no profanity. My father’s one expression when tried was, “Oh, pshaw!”

In our younger days before Justin married and teachers [boarded] with us, we played games, Flinch especially, and had a lot of fun. Later, we got the Carrom board. Mama loved games but Dad didn’t care for them.

When eight o’clock came, Dad would say, “Bedtime,” and there was no arguing—we went to bed. Also, we got up and ate breakfast together, even at corn-shucking time when everyone got up early, and I mean early—dark.

Dad never spanked us, but we always respected him. One punishment if we misbehaved when we were little, was to have us sit on our little chair facing the corner of the room until we promised to behave. Mama was known to have used the hairbrush when she felt the occasion demanded it. She said Florence got it because she interfered when she was punishing me. I don’t remember what I had done, but I was more stubborn than Florence.

	Juanita poses with her baby sister, Florence, ca. 1903. Courtesy of Barbara W. Weber.

Our parents always insisted on good manners. We were taught to be ladies, not loud or pushy, to be polite and considerate of the feelings of others, to use proper grammar, and to take care of possessions, and be industrious.

Children in those days were told children should be seen and not heard.

When we went to town, we dressed in at least our second best, wore hats and gloves. My earliest recollection was that ladies’ skirts were long, covering their ankles. Ankles weren’t to be exposed by ladies. Babies seldom went anywhere and were scared and cried when they saw their mothers with hats on their heads.

Our toys were very simple and we had to use whatever resources we could find for entertainment. There were our paper dolls. They were pictures out of the Montgomery Ward catalog or maybe magazines. Florence had a lot—200 or more. We had a swing that was a rope tied to a sturdy limb of a tree. The seat was a board. I enjoyed swinging very much. We rolled hoops, jumped rope, and had a seesaw. We had a playhouse where we used pieces of broken glass and china for housekeeping. We used a piano box placed in back of our washhouse for our house at one time. We thought we had a wonderful place.

Spending time with cousins. From left: Millard and Chester Johnson and Florence and Juanita Cole, ca. 1910. Courtesy of Barbara W. Weber.

We also had pets—cats and a shepherd dog named Shep that we cared about so much. There was also a pet hen, a Plymouth Rock. We would pick her up and say, “Sing, Pet,” and she would respond. Also, she would come in the house, go to an opening in the flue in back of the range, and lay an egg.

When my sister and I played outside, we had to have our sunbonnets and gloves on. Ladies and girls were very protective of their beauty. No one wanted to get tanned.

When the weather got warm enough and our mother thought we wouldn’t take cold, we were allowed to discard our long underwear and also go barefoot. Of course, on Sundays we wore our long hose and Mary Jane slippers (patent leather–torture).

I didn’t start school until the first of September before I was eight years old, as Mama couldn’t stand the thought of one child going and one left at home. She said that I could read but wouldn’t admit it until I went to school. Florence and I both skipped two grades and graduated in six years.

We walked 1 1/2 miles to school in company with the other students. There were no gravel roads, and in the wintertime when the snow was so deep, we walked on the snowdrifts by the fences. Our father was very considerate of us and came for us in the surrey or wagon when the weather was bad. Lunch was carried from home.

When there was deep snow or mud or cold, we wore high-top buckle overshoes over our shoes and also fleece-lined black leggings, which buttoned up the side. Also, we wore long underwear and long cotton hose.

	Juanita and her sister walked to this schoolhouse in the West Hartford district of Perry, Missouri, in the early 1900s. Courtesy of Barbara W. Weber.

There were 44 students at West Hartford the year I started. An eight-foot addition was added that year to accommodate the students, and even then some of the smaller children sat three in a seat. We had a bench at the front of the schoolhouse where each class went to recite their lessons. The teacher taught all eight grades. Several teachers boarded at our house.

The school day began at 9 a.m. and ended at 4 p.m. At recess and noon, we played Andy-over, ball, Drop-the-Handkerchief, and other games such as Fox and Geese in the snow. We had two 15-minute recesses, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, and an hour at noon. We didn’t have physical education as it is known today. It really wasn’t needed, as some children walked over two or nearly three miles for some.

We graduated from the eighth grade in 1914. Florence was 12 and I 14 the year we started high school at Perry. We stayed with my mother’s sister, Florence Cullen, and her daughter, Mary.

The last three years we stayed at Mr. and Mrs. Robert Cowherd’s, and we had a room and did light housekeeping, fixing our meals, getting to school on time, carrying in wood and water, being responsible for getting our lessons and for our behavior.

We had no radio or television—not even heard of then. Once in a while we went to the nickelodeon, a forerunner of the modern picture shows. It was located on South Palmyra Street. We paid five cents admission. There was no voice, but dialogue was printed on the sides of the film and someone played the piano.

Our favorite program was the continued story The Perils of Pauline. The heroine was left in a very dangerous situation at the end of the episode, making you very anxious to go back the next week to see how she was rescued.

During World War I, the girls at Mrs. Cowherd’s learned to knit. We knitted sleeveless vests for the servicemen. Mrs. Cowherd would cast the line on our needles and taught us how to knit. The [yarn] color was olive green.

Teacher’s training was taught the last two years of high school, and Florence and I took the course.

	Harold Woods joined the Student Army Training Corps in Kirksville, Missouri, in 1918. Courtesy of Barbara W. Weber.

We went into teaching the fall after graduation, Florence at Tillett in Monroe County and I at Fagan. My salary was $50 a month, and we boarded with families in the district. We swept the schoolhouse floor, dusted, built the fire, took out the ashes, and with the help of the children, carried in the coal for the fire besides our teaching duties. We went home on weekends whenever the weather permitted.

Harold and I started keeping company that summer, and in September he went to Kirksville with a group from Center, Missouri, to join the SATC (Student Army Training Corps), as the First World War was going on. The Armistice was signed on November 11, 1918, so he was discharged from the Army and came home. I have his discharge papers. We continued going together most of the time until our marriage June 27, 1923.

The school year of 1919–1920 I taught at the Oakdale School, as it joined the West Hartford district, and boarded at Uncle Thornton Cole’s. I didn’t want to go back there, so I only taught six weeks that fall at Magnolia for a teacher who had typhoid fever. I boarded at the Homer Howalds’.

Juanita and Harold’s home in rural Ralls County, Missouri, around 1950. She lived in this home until her death in 1999. Courtesy of Barbara W. Weber.

At the beginning of 1921, I was offered the position of teacher at Heavenridge in Monroe County. The teacher had quit. It was a very difficult school then. I boarded with Mr. and Mrs. Tom Bishop. We had to close the school the last six weeks as I unknowingly got smallpox and gave it to the children. No one was severely ill. I went back the next two years. The last year my salary was $100 a month. I understood it was the highest-paid salary for a rural teacher in Monroe County.

This recording has been some of the events of my younger years. I have been greatly blessed and hope and pray for the same blessings for my children, my grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

I compiled these recollections in 1989.