Few people today can recall or even visualize the snug little house of the prairie states - the "soddy" in which many of the staunch pioneers lived until more permanent quarters could be constructed. In some parts of our country, it is true, we can now see humble dwellings similar to the sod houses of the late seventies and early eighties, but they are usually occupied by seasonal workers in our beet fields and on cotton plantations, with no romance attached to their coming or going.
This is the true story of a young couple who with their own hands built a "soddy" on the sandy plains of Holt County, in north central Nebraska - the year, about 1881. The young wife, mother of three small sons, and the young husband, -a graduate of Rush Medical College in Chicago, - fired with the enthusiasm of bringing medicines and healing to the scattered families who were slowly but surely making their way to the mid-western states. The little soddy was probably twenty feet, more or less, each way, - divided in the center by a curtain of 5cent calico - one room for the "living room", the other, the sleeping quarters.
The floor? hard-packed earth; the windows? little and deep-set,- no doubt a
red geranium on the ledge of the sunniest one; the walls? made of slabs of
sod, four to six inches thick and probably twelve or fourteen inches square,
held together by their very grassroots, making a warm protection against the
summer's sun and wind and the winter blizzard's cold; the roof? shaped of
timbers or poles and sheathing and covered also with sod, so that grass grew
on it in the summer, - all in all a far cry from the sleek and streamlined
"ranch types" of today; the door? a crude affair which creaked and grumbled in
wet weather, - but the latch-string! Ah! There was the secret of the
friendliness and neighborliness of those trying days-
Neighbors from the original home of our young couple, (Whitewater, Walrath County, in southern Wisconsin) moved "out West" at the same time, - the two families, the Peter Greeley's and the Doctor Turner's, shipping household goods, a few cattle, pens of chickens and a few pigs in the same railroad freight car, which also included enough ready-cut lumber for the Greeleys to complete a dignified two-storied dwelling within a few hundred yards of the soddy. This big house stands there today though of course the soddy disappeared long, long ago.
The countryside is now softened by many trees and grassy green fields, but in those days when it was bleak and forbidding and a challenge to all who dared to try to exist there, the people in the "big" house came often to the little soddy so they couldn't hear the wind howl in the huge upstairs rooms, which were not finished until many years later.
The "soddy" is now just a memory. It had its own glamour for this ambitious young couple, although our young folks of today, or most of them, would hold it great disdain, - and to me it's a symbol of loving determination on the part of my Mother in her great desire to be a companion to her young doctor husband and an inspiration to her sons and the little daughter (Alice Jennie Turner) who was born in the soddy in 1882.
"The Soddy" - mentioned in every luring tale of pioneer days - among them "A Lantern in Her Hand" and "White Bird Flying", both by Bess Streeter Aldrich, and "Old Jules" by Mari Sandoz of Cherry County, Nebraska. Read these books, you young men and women of today and live, through them the thrilling days of the Nebraska pioneers, when the friendly Indian came often to the door, - then read them again and give them to your children to read, so that the everlasting heritage given you, even though you don't know any more about it than you have glimpsed in these few lines, may be yours and theirs forever.
My life-long friend, Mrs. Emma Greeley Moore, now 91, lives in Spokane, Washington, - when I sent her a copy of the above she agreed with my statements except she felt the Indians weren't always "friendly"- at least she says she was often scared - they never knocked, just opened the door and walked in. This reminds me of two or three stories Mother often told us- one day a big Indian came into the soddy while the Doctor was resting, grunted, and sat down at the table. Mother was frightened and rushed to tell the Doctor who said: "Oh, he's just hungry." Mother said: "What shall I feed him?" - "Oh fry some side-meat and a few eggs" - this she did, but when Mr. Indian had finished he still sat there. So back to the curtain - "I fed him and he just sits" - "Feed him some more", which Mother did - with the result that the situation became amusing, and Mother finally filled him to capacity with 16 eggs! My Mother never told an untruth in her life so we cannot doubt her veracity.... On another occasion she had washed her long black hair and was drying it outdoors in the sunshine, when three or four big Indians approached, each bearing huge knives - she jumped and ran for the Doctor, feeling sure she and their boys were in mortal danger, but the Doctor quieted her by saying: "Oh they just want to sharpen their knives - the word has gotten around that we brought a grindstone with us"-
1975 Mrs. Moore died many years ago, but her younger brother, Howard Peter Greeley, now nearly 93, still lives in Wahoo, Nebraska.