My  father, John Lewis, was born in Wales and lived there until he was a comparatively young man, when he decided to come to America to make his home.
 After many weeks the ship arrived in America.  As he had always been a coal miner he went to Pennsylvania where he again became a worker in the coal mines of that state.  Afterwards, moving his family to Pomeroy, Ohio, as he was an expert at laying the timbers in the mines, that became his work, for which he received better wages than did the common workers.
 In July 1863, when Morgan with his 4,000 men were making raids in Ohio, father joined the farmers in obstructing his path with felled trees.  Attempting to cross the Ohio River near Pomeroy, Morgan found his way blocked by gun boats and militia.  A short battle ensued and Morgan was defeated, losing 600 men, wounded and prisoners, and many of his guns.  Father asked the officer in charge if he could keep one of the muskets.  The officer replied, "If you take it when I'm not looking you can have it."  The musket is still an old relic in the Lewis family.  While the raid was on, Mother and three children were taken down in the coal mine for safety.
 In the  spring of 1864, father made up his mind to go to the  western gold fields.  He took the boat from Pomeroy, Ohio and went down the Ohio River to St. Louis, then up the Missouri River to Nebraska City, Nebraska.  There he joined a number of men, I think about 100 men and 60 wagons drawn by ox teams; this was called a train.  Father made arrangements to drive one wagon to pay for his transportation.  These wagons were loaded with provisions for the soldiers, also people of the west.
 After leaving the Missouri River, this territory had but very few settlers, but many Indians of a war-like disposition, so they had to be very careful for fear of the Indians.  This train would camp quite early in the afternoon to give the oxen plenty of time to eat grass and find watering places.  Each man had his work assigned him, some unhitched the oxen, took off the heavy yokes and herded them, some were cooks, and some looked after the wagons.  In order to be safe from the Indians, these wagons were always placed so as to make a large circle or corral.  When night came, these oxen were all put into this corral and the last wagon was put in place or as we would say the gate was closed, and all would rest for the night.  Very early the next morning the oxen were taken out to graze before starting on the day's journey.  From 12 to 20 miles was a big day's drive.  All the time they kept a look out for the Indians, but were not molested by them on all the westward trip.
 Traveling for many days, they finally came to the Platte Valley somewhere near where Lowell is today.  The next stop was at Fort Kearney, where they rested several days.  Old Fort Kearney  at that time was garrisoned with soldiers for the protection of travelers and wagon trains, for it was about the only way to get provisions to Denver and to the west, as there were no railroads at that time.
 After the men and oxen had rested for several days they continued their journey, crossing the Platte River north of the Fort.  It took some time to ford the river with the water and sand and up the bank.  When all were safely over the river, they started on over the prairie, on a long, slow journey, hoping some day to reach their goal.  This long trail is now known and has markers as the "OLD OREGON TRAIL."
 After traveling for a time this train was divided, Father staying with the division that was going to Virginia City, Idaho  Territory.  When this territory was divided into states Virginia City was on the Montana side of the line.
 Father stayed there during the winter of 1864-65 and worked in the gold mines.  The robbers, or road agents as they were called because they robbed stage coaches, became so bold they began robbing the miners of their dust.  So the miners formed a Vigilance Committee and rounded up six robbers, taking them to a new store building under construction.  Six ropes were thrown over the joist of the building.  While the other ends of the ropes were being adjusted around the necks of the men, one road agent said he had something to say, "Gentlemen, Mr. Galligher, the sheriff, is one of our band."  Another rope was thrown over the joist and attached to the sheriff's neck.  That was the last of the road agents.  After that the gold could be placed any where with perfect safety.
 In the early spring Father started homeward, riding by stage coach as far as it came.  There he met about 20 men who were driving to Nebraska City.  In this train there were eight wagons, but drawn by horses which made the trip much more pleasant.  He paid his way back instead of driving.  They traveled along and all went well until one evening when they were camped near the mountains two Indian chiefs came into the camp.  They were tired and very hungry.  Father told them he would get them something to eat.  He made pancakes for them and they ate so many that he thought he never would make all they could eat.  They slept that night in the camp and the next morning Father made them more pancakes and coffee.  The chiefs went away feeling very thankful for the kindness shown them.
 The train traveled on for many days.  One day a wagon broke down and while it was being fixed, Father took his gun and walked down along the Platte River hunting.  As he was walking through a thick growth of willows, he suddenly entered an Indian camp.  At once the Indians began to gather around him and were going to take his gun and seemed very hostile.  Two chiefs came up to see what all the excitement was about.  When they saw Father they at once recognized him.  They pushed the Indians away saying "He good, he good, he feed."  They were very friendly and courteous and went with him back to his train.  They had not forgotten the one who fed them.   This kindness to them probably saved Father's life.
 The wagon fixed, the train started on.  They were not so careful about the Indians as they should have been; they neglected to build corrals for the horses at night but just picketed them.  One night about midnight, the Indians came whooping and yelling, riding their ponies amongst the horses, stampeding them.  When morning came there was not a horse to be found.  This happened near Plum Creek, a historical creek somewhere close to where Lexington, Nebraska is now.  They were at their wits ends to know what to do.  They decided to load all the necessary things on the lightest wagon, leaving the other seven wagons where they had camped.  When all was ready they started on their way, pushing and pulling the loaded wagon.  There was a very fat man with them who could not walk very far, so he was allowed to ride all the way.  After a long, long walk and pushing and pulling the wagon, they arrived at Nebraska City with their wagon, also the fat man, after the long hard trip of about 300 miles.
 Father was very anxious to get home.  He took the boat at Nebraska City for St. Louis and then up the Ohio to Pomeroy, glad to be home again.
 Father was so favorably impressed with Nebraska, and the great possibilities of the new country that he told his friends he thought it would be the real place for those looking for a home.  So in June 1866, he with six other men, all miners, started west.  This time they took a boat at St. Louis up the Missouri River to Aspinwall, a little river village about thirty miles south of Nebraska City.  They went west about three miles.  Here they came to a small stream with fine timber all along its banks, and prairie land covered with tall grass.  It was an Indian Reservation.  They decided that this was the ideal place for their new home.  Father bought his land from the Indians for five dollars an acre.  The other men also bought land along this stream, which ran almost through the middle of these farms.  This stream was named "Whiskey Run," and still goes by that name.
 I want to tell you just a little about these men.  Six were Welchmen and one a Scotchman.  They had worked together for years in the coal mines and had never lived on a farm.  They thought they must all live close together so bought adjoining land, all very much delighted with their new purchases.  They went back to Ohio feeling happy, and began preparations to bring their families to their new home.
 In the spring on 1867, they, with their families and all their belongings, were loaded on the boat bound for Nebraska, the boat reaching Aspinwall in safety, all eager to see where they were to make their new home.  The first thing to do was to buy horses and wagons and build houses to live in.  These men all worked together.  First they built one house and then another until all had a house to live in.  This is how they built the houses:  They went down along Whiskey Run and cut poles, then selected the place for the house and set the poles in the ground, also put poles all along the side and over the top.  They cut slough grass, a course, heavy grass growing five or six feet tall, and bound it into bundles and put it all around the sides and all over the top, then made some windows and a door.  This building was divided into two rooms.
 After a time seven new homes stood on the prairie, each made out of grass.  This is the only colony in Nebraska that we have any record of that built temporary houses out of grass to live in until they were able to build better houses.
 One man bought two teams of oxen, and a big plow; he did the breaking of the ground.  During the first year each man had a small field broken around his house, which was planted to vegetables and corn.  The corn was planted in this method:  After the sod was broken the farmer came along with an axe and dug holes in the over-turned sod, the corn was dropped by hand and covered with the foot and was tended with a hoe.  The next year larger fields of corn were planted, also small fields of spring wheat.  This wheat was cut with a scythe and bound in bundles by hand.  For threshing this wheat poles were put over the wagon box, on which the bundles were placed and the grain pounded out.  The wheat was then put in sacks and stored until the time when it would be taken to the mill.
 The nearest mill was twenty miles away on the Nemaha River.  It was a stone burr mill propelled by water power.  The miller kept so many pounds of flour, so many pounds of middlings, so much bran for his toll.
 One time, when the men were coming home with their load of flour, they discovered a big prairie fire coming from the north.  A woman with two small children came running from their house; she did not know what to do or how to escape the ravaging fire.  Father set a fire in the grass and as it burned they kept driving farther into the clear spot.  After the wall of flame had passed on, they hurried home to find their houses unharmed.  The prairie fire was the worst enemy of the pioneer.  Breaking the sod around the houses was the only protection from fire.
  About the first of September, 1875, the grasshoppers came in clouds and ate everything that was green.  Next spring when they hatched they even ate the bark from the trees.  About July they all flew away.  The farmers then planted buckwheat and had a good crop.  It was threshed the same as wheat.  Buckwheat cakes were all we had to live on all winter and the next summer till a crop could be raised.  We surely got tired of buckwheat cakes.
 These farmers were all very successful.  They soon built large houses and barns, set out orchards, raised corn, all kinds of grain, horses, cattle and hogs.  Nemaha county today is known for its rich soil and is wonderfully adapted to fruit growing, especially apples.  The largest apple orchards in Nebraska are in the southeastern part of the state.
 I almost forgot to tell you about the school.  As soon as this colony was settled they built a school house.  It was built on the northwest corner of my father's farm, as it was the most central location, and was named the Bethel School, and is still in the same place today, except for a bigger and better schoolhouse.  It was there I spent my first school years, and all my children spent their first school days there too.
 The first church was built about the same time the school was.  Named Peniwell, a Welch name, after a number of years a new modern church was built and the old one torn down.  The new one was called Prairie Union Baptist.  It still has the same name today.
 These seven families all lived on their farms, and were always the best of friends.  The old people have all passed away and were buried in the beautiful Prairie Union Cemetery.  Their descendants are still living on the farms and their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren are the ones who help to make Prairie Union the wonderful Country Church that it is today.
 Many years have come and gone since those first grass houses were built along the Whiskey Run.  We of today have just cause to be proud of our ancestry, who so bravely met the obstacles of pioneer living, and whose dreams and ideals have added much in making Nebraska the wonderful State it is today.

                                                                                        -THOMAS LEWIS
                                                                                                Gibbon, Nebraska
                                                                                                          1937
 
 
 
 

  Question? Comments? Information?  klencki@bigfoot.com