The Opening of the State of Oklahoma; The Race for Land; Irrigation in the Panhandle; Postmasters of Early Days; New Locations, etc.

In the spring of the year 1889, the president of the United States issued a proclamation that Oklahoma was opened for homestead settlement, the few Indians that had already settled there to be allowed to remain in undisturbed possession of their holdings. As the proclamation included but a small portion of the present state, the other little nations were left for future consideration.

The manner in which the homesteader secured his claim is unique in the annals of history. I do not believe that any other people under the sun ever acquired the right and title to a homestead in quite the same fashion as that employed to dole out to homeseekers the claims which they had acquired a right to by registering at the land office. I am under the impression that it is an institution peculiarly American. Whatever the merits of the system maybe, it produced results more or less beneficial, according as you look at it from the point of view of the homeseeker, or the grafter. For the benefit of posterity I shall set it down that they may see, at least, how it was done, and be able to judge of the merit of the means employed to insure the results intended.

On the day set aside for the opening of the new territory to homeseekers, all those who had filed on an allotment, were to take their position on a line marked for the purpose, just as the foot-racer toes the scratch awaiting the signal for the dash. Some had been there for some time, others came at the last moment. No one was permitted to invade the new territory until a signal was given and then they were to rush pell-mell to secure the claim they found to be the most in accordance with their wishes. It was a strange sight to behold them drawn up in every conceivable kind of vehicle, and those who had no vehicle were on horse back, mule back, or on foot. Anxiety was pictured on every countenance. Those who had waited longest had their patience tried to the limit. In order to insure every man a chance for an equal opportunity, a company of soldiers was drawn up to prevent any one taking any undue advantage of his neighbor. At least, they were supposed to do so, but under the cover of darkness during the night before, hundreds of persons known afterwards as “Sooners,” crept through the line and hid themselves in some convenient ravine and remained there under cover until the signal was given next day. These men, as soon as the word was given to go, rushed out and staked a claim, and when the lawful owners appeared, they were ordered to move on, and the order was enforced at the end of a gun. The Sooner was not only in possession, but stood ready to defend his claim against all comers as he had witnesses to prove his statements about the preemption of the property and his prior right to the land in question.

On the day appointed for the start of the race, every one was in a fever of expectancy. The starter was eyed keenly in his every move to detect some indication of the signal about to be given. Horses heads were pushing over the line, the driver standing in his wagon ready to ply the whip to produce the required speed for the occasion, old ramshackle buggies were there whose very appearance signified that this was likely to be their last run. Even oxen with their necks bent beneath the weight of their bows, felt the fever of the excitement and were anxious to be off. Horsemen stood in the stirrups with a quirt ready, to make a dash across the rolling plains. As the hands of the watch crept toward twelve, one could notice a tightening of the jaws and a look of grim resolve come over the countenances of those participating in the race. Eagerly they looked for the signal, slowly the hands of the watch in the timekeepers hand moved on. The starter was seen to move hand to the pistol scabbard and draw his weapon. Up it rose slowly in the air and absolute silence prevailed. For one moment he held the gun aloft and then, “Bang” went the forty-five and the race was on. Yelling, whooping, swearing, off they dashed in their mad flight. Wagons rumbled and bounded over the uneven ground, whips were wielded with pitiless abandon; horses dashed in mad affright to gain the front of the wild careening mob; oxen tossing their wide-spreading horns, with lumbering gait, dragged their burden of a rattling wagon in their mad dash. All was confusion in the first mad plunge. Then slowly but surely the better mounted and better bred gradually drew away from their slower-footed competitors, and disappeared on the horizon. Naturally those in advance secured the better locations, excepting where the sooners had stealthily pre-empted some desirable location. With the slower ones, it was a case of take that was left and make the best of it. In case a man found himself dispossessed by a Sooner, there was only one recourse remaining and that was to buy him out at once, or go to court about the matter, and that was as hazardous as trying to drive him out, as the courts were largely operated on the kangaroo plan. The judge of today might be the criminal of tomorrow, and the criminal of today might be tomorrow seated on the judge’s bench administering justice? in a very summary manner.

This transpired a quarter of a century ago, and some of those who went into court to contest for their rights are still pleading their cases with little likelihood of their ever attaining a solution of the difficulty as long as there are fees to be collected.

I noticed in my experience during the opening of the territory to homeseekers, that Cash, Clemency, and Justice traveled on parallel lines, and when the Cash failed to put an appearance, Clemency and Justice disappeared also, as the dew dissolves before the morning sun. There were some Sooners sent to the penitentiary for perjury, but they were likely to be pardoned in time to vote at the next election. In view of the number of felons who have been set at liberty, one is forced to conclude that there have been some very tender-hearted Governors in the state.

When the first homeseekers were drawing up in line for the mad race across the plain, I joined them. I was very curtly told that I had not any right to take part in the free-for-all scramble for property, as I had 640 acres of land in the Panhandle of Texas. Being that they felt that way about it, I did not press my right, but gracefully withdrew, and took only an observer’s interest in the headlong gallop that occurred. When the excitement had somewhat subsided, I returned to my holdings in the Panhandle and took up the burden of making what improvements I thought necessary to make it a desirable homestead. I had in view the completion of an irrigation ditch that I had begun before I left to see the opening in Oklahoma. On my return I hired a few laborers to help with the work. It took considerable labor and money to complete the task, and when I had it done, I found that all my labor and money had been in vain. When I did not need water, there was too much of it, and when I did need it, the creek that was to furnish me the supply, was as dry as a bone. I became disgusted with that place and sold out for about fifty per cent of what the improvements cost me. Times were hard just then. There was but little money in the country, a long hard winter had killed off multitudes of the range cattle, and the long dry summer had killed off all hopes of relief to be found in successful farming. To make our condition more lonely, the mail facilities were not what they should have been for some time. Sometimes a week would elapse, and very frequently several weeks would pass by without our hearing anything from the outside world. Our postmaster was not entirely to blame as he did the best he could in fulfilling his duties. As he could read or write very little, it placed him at a great disadvantage, but he struggled along against the disadvantage of his lack of training to try to satisfy his patrons. When the mail arrived, he opened the sack and dumped the contents out on a barrel head and permitted each patron to help himself. If Big Jim, or Little Ike happened to be in from some ranch or other, they would look over the pile and take the number of letters they thought belonged to their respective ranches, put them in the pocket of their slicker, mount their ponies and ride away. Perhaps, in a week or so, some of the letters would be returned to the office marked, “opened by mistake,” and others were never returned at all. I will say that there were more letters opened by mistake in that office than in any office in the whole United States, taking into consideration the numbers of letters received. As many years have passed since that time, I have often wondered what became of the efficient postmaster of Wolf Creek. As he was a good, loyal Democrat of the Andrew Jackson type, I thought I might see him some time in the Oklahoma Senate, but have looked in vain. He may have received an appointment to an Ambassadorship in Mexico, but I have not heard of it. However, wherever he is, if he be living, I wish him well.

About the time of which I am writing, it was currently reported and generally believed that a millionaire named George R. Timms was building a city at the head of Kiowa Creek, and that there were churches, schools, and all the improvements that go to make a prosperous town. One could get all the advantages of such a place by buying a lot or two on the installment plan. I decided to take advantage of such a brilliant opportunity of getting into closer touch with civilization. I rounded up my horses and cattle and set out toward the land of so much promise. Imagine my surprise and even astonishment when I reached the place, to find it almost totally abandoned. I rode around through the deserted streets without seeing a single person. I was about to pronounce the thing a complete failure, from the point of view of population, when I discovered a bench-legged, bullet-eyed individual approaching me. Where he came from I do not know. In questioning him about the place I was informed that he had been one of the original inhabitants, that the rest had left, but he couldn’t get away for lack of means. In his desire to take advantage of opportunity, he offered to sell me a town lot. I replied that I did not think there was any great demand for town lots just then, and that there was little likelihood of a boom there for some time if present conditions were any indication of the business prospects of the town. I inquired where I could find a house to move into, and he told me to take my choice of the whole place. I looked the town over and finally decided that the hotel was about the best building for my purposes just then. There I remained during my stay in Timms City. I made some further inquiries of my fellow townsman as soon as I had taken up my abode in the Timms House, and he told me that all the population had gone away to Oklahoma to take up land; that there were only two persons left behind. I remained in the forsaken city for some time, and spent my leisure moments in hunting antelope. I did not meet with much success in this line of endeavor, as there were very few left in the locality.

One day, while sitting in front of my new abode, I was called upon by some ranchmen in the neighborhood. They asked me if I would take charge of the postoffice. They explained that it was very difficult for them to get their mail, and if that office was closed up, it would leave them in a very serious predicament. I replied that it was impossible for me to take charge of the office as I was about to take a trip East, and hence would not be able to attend to the official duties of the place. I told them that I appreciated the confidence they had in me, a stranger, thanked them for the offer, but declined firmly to undertake the duties of the position. I made mention of the fact that my wife had had some experience in the work, and if she would be willing to undertake the running of the place, it would be agreeable to me. She undertook the task and after three months of trouble and worry incident to the business, the returns showed that she had received ONE DOLLAR AND THIRTY-NINE CENTS, a handsome sum for the time and energy spent upon the thankless task. After that matter was disposed of, they requested me to accept the office of “Justice of the Peace,” an offer that I declined, as I never had any hankering for political preferment. They told me they had to find some one to fill the office until the next election took place. They gave me to understand that the man who had filled that important position knew nothing of the Texas laws. To give me an example of his mental acumen and his judicial integrity, they said that, on one occasion he tried a man for stealing a cow. The theft was proven beyond the shadow of a doubt. When the evidence was all in, he took the case under advisement for ten days, and then he sent the man who owned the cow to jail for ninety days and turned the thief loose. When asked why he had taken such a course in his administration of justice, he replied that, in his judgment, they were both thieves, and he had sent the man to jail who could best endure the confinement.