A Blast From the Past: Kansas Tourism in Ellinwood

Shhhh! You know what they say about those women who frequent Ellinwood's underground tunnels.

More than a century ago, it was a fairly common practice for up-and-coming cities to build underground tunnels and shops. Such was the case for Ellinwood, a town founded by German Protestant immigrants on the Central Plains of Kansas in 1878.

The day our PEO group was in Ellinwood, it was rainy and cloudy.

The underground was decidedly not a place for ladies like my PEO sisters and me. Back then, the tunnels were the ultimate "man cave" - long before HGTV coined the phrase.

There were bars and barbers and brawls and, well -- brothels -- underneath the feet of the respectable, God-fearing, church-going citizens.

Ellinwood was a stop on the Santa Fe Trail, so it brought in its share of cowboys and characters who were just passing through. Once their horses were hitched to the post and the cattle they were driving were squared away for the evening, the men would clomp down the wooden stairs into the underground city. 

Once there, they could get a shave and a haircut at William Yung's establishment, Richard Casagrande told my PEO group on our field trip last week.

The boys could belly up to the bar and play a hand of cards.

Yung was also the proprietor of the bathhouse next door. For 15 cents, travelers could get a warm bath, a clean towel and some lye soap to wash off the dust of the trail. If that price seemed too steep, they could wash in used bath water for a nickel. For a few more coins, they could get their clothes washed, too.

While their clothes tumbled, they could "tumble" with one of the "soiled doves," a woman who was decidedly not a lady.

There were less nefarious businesses underground, too. A harness shop could fix up any equipment that failed during the ride down the Santa Fe Trail and also kept the locals' equipment in good repair.

By the mid-1930s to early 1940s, the Ellinwood tunnels were closed off to the public.However, in 1979, the late Adrianna Dierolf rediscovered the tunnels after inheriting some of the downtown buildings in Ellinwood, and she began showing the tunnels to the public.

During the summer of 1982, new sidewalks were built on Main Street, and city officials had most of the remaining tunnels filled with sand because of liability concerns. Because her building was on the Historic Register, Dierolf managed to save a short stretch of Ellinwood tunnels and left three of the underground businesses under the two-story Dick Building intact showing what they might have looked like a century ago.

This was taken last Friday, when we went to pick up meat from Ellinwood Packing.

 For many years, it was thought those were the only tunnels that survived the city's sidewalk remodel.

However, when new owner Chris McCord bought the old Wolf Hotel across the street and the former owner's belongings were cleared out, he found additional tunnels.

They were among those that had once run on both sides of Main Street. McCord and a team of volunteers have worked since 2013 to bring the old hotel back to its heyday and also provide a glimpse of underground life on their side of Main Street. 

Today under the Wolf Hotel's lobby, visitors can tour the Drummer's Sample Room,  where salesmen riding the rails on the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe railroad could display their wares in a merchandise room just across the street from the train station.

Just down the wooden sidewalk corridor, there's a Prohibition-era bar set up to serve guests on the weekends or private parties any time.

Ellinwood's library was in the basement of the hotel through the 1960s. Old library cards in wooden frames form part of the wall decorations in the library, refurbished by volunteer Beth Brummer (who is also a wonderful waitress for private parties, we learned by experience)!

The upstairs has gotten a facelift, too. The Wolf Hotel was built in 1894 and once housed the Bank of Ellinwood.

The old bank lobby has become a popular venue for small weddings, class reunions and other gatherings.

Fred Wolf, John Wolf’s son, added on the Sunflower Dining room in 1924. It was a showcase restaurant in Barton County that attracted people from many places with its large, wood-cased windows, tin ceiling and wheat shock columns. (There's even a bullet hole in the ceiling from an unfortunate incident in the hotel's past.)

Our PEO group enjoyed paninis and fixings, plus an ice cream topped gooey brownie for dessert. McCord and volunteers cater private parties and gatherings in the Sunflower room. Eventually, McCord wants to open the dining room for Sunday chicken dinners, served family style on vintage wheat-patterned china (I should have taken a photo of the plates. This wheat farmer loved them!)

There's a "woman" on the east side of Main Street, too, but she's no "soiled dove." For years, Sally the Mannequin greeted visitors to the antique store that filled every nook and cranny of the old hotel. When McCord bought the Wolf from former owner Bill Starr, Sally was part of the package deal. During April, she is decked out in her Easter bonnet and finery in the lobby. She no longer greets passersby on the sidewalk, however. She was the unfortunate victim of a kidnapping. Even though she was eventually returned unharmed (with no ransom paid), she now stays inside the hotel.

McCord has refurbished five hotel rooms which are available for overnight stays. Most rooms have a private bath and all offer free wi-fi, satellite TV, antique furnishings and continental breakfast in a wood-paneled kitchen and dining room.

For more information about the Wolf Hotel, go to www.historicwolfhotel.com or call 620-617-6915.

Is the Sun Setting on the Stafford Depot?

Sunset, July 15, 2016

Is the sun setting on the Stafford Depot?

An email campaign to  BNSF Railroad is underway to save the depot. In recent weeks, the windows were removed from the building, and the rumor mill was swirling that the depot would be torn down. Stafford native and historian F. Clare Moore started investigating. This wasn't Clare's first foray into trying to save the depot. Ten years ago, he also led efforts to keep the depot from the wrecking ball. This time, he says, the railroad personnel were helpful in trying to connect him with the right person.

On Thursday, Clare posted this to his Facebook page:

SAVE THE STAFFORD DEPOT! OK, here's your chance to make a difference. A huge email campaign would impact the saving of the depot. Send an email to Andy Williams, Kansas Public Affairs director for BNSF Railroad, and indicate your support for saving the Stafford ATSF Depot in Stafford, Kansas. Tell him you support for saving the depot and anything else that you want to say. It is vital that you bombard him with emails. It WILL make a difference if anything will. He needs to know of community support. His email address is andy.williams@bnsf.com Please share this and get to as many people as possible whether they have a Stafford connection or not.

Clare proposes pursuing a Transportation Enhancement grant. If a grant were awarded, 80 percent of the money for restoration would come from the U.S. Department of Transportation and the remaining 20 percent would need to be raised from the community and supporters, Clare says.

The depot has been a landmark in Stafford for more than 100 years. An article on the front page of the August 25, 1910, Stafford Courier announced the news that a new $14,000 Santa Fe train station would be built at Stafford.

It is with the keenest sort of pleasure that The Courier is able to announce definitely that the new depot is soon to be a reality. For about five years, this new structure has been one of the things that Stafford has desired and needed above all else.

E.C. Smith, agent of the Santa Fe here, received word from Topeka Tuesday that the construction of the new Santa Fe depot in Stafford would start in about three weeks. ... Just about five years ago, the people of this city took up the matter with the Santa Fe Company. Letters were written to the officials about all of the business men of the city and as a result of this bombardment of literary missiles, Superintendent Ayers and some other of the big men of the company came here to talk it over with our citizens.  ..."

From the August 25, 1910 Stafford Courier

I suppose it's ironic that "literary missiles" will again be part of the Stafford Depot story. This time, they are being sent through cyberspace. The people of 1910 would find the technology hard to fathom, I suppose. And they likely wouldn't believe that the depot - which was so vital to their commerce a century ago - hasn't been used for decades.

Stafford has for years enjoyed the reputation of being one of the best paying shipping points on this great system. The tonnage in and out of Stafford has far exceeded that of many towns of much greater size. Stafford has had the reputation with the company of being a genuine 18-karat live-wire town, and the new depot we are soon to have will prove an added stimulus in keeping it so. We have worked hard and we have waited long for this thing, and we appreciate it the more for our working and waiting.

August 25, 1910, Stafford Courier

I found an article about standardized railroad stations in Kansas at the Kansas State Historical Society website. On page 13 of the 14-page article, there was a photo of Stafford's depot. (I couldn't find the date of publication.)

In the article, it said that the Stafford depot was patterned after one built in Girard, Kansas. (See page 4 of the document.)

As far as I remember, the depot hasn't been in use for the 35+ years I've been part of the community. But it has been the subject of more than one photo during that time - from me and from other photographers. I took the most recent ones in July during the Stafford County Fair. The sky was so beautiful that I walked across the road from the 4-H beef show to snap a few photos. I had others at sunset, but I also found this 2010 shot when the scene included scattered snowflakes.

While the depot hasn't been used for years, it is a landmark part of Stafford's history.

Stafford was a major grain depot for the county with two grain elevators, one at the north and the other at the south end of town. In 1887, two railroads came to Stafford:  the Chicago, Kansas and Western, which 10 years later became the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe, and the Denver, Memphis and Atlantic, which became the Missouri Pacific. Their depots were located at either end of Union Street, the Santa Fe at the north end and the Missouri Pacific depot at the south end ... The Missouri Pacific depot was demolished in 1984 and its brick was used for planters lining Main Street.

Taken from The Henderson House website

Happy 155th Birthday, Kansas!

A Kansas sunrise is like a fingerprint. No two are exactly the same. But this morning, I thought about sunrise on January 29, 1861. On this day 155 years ago, were the settlers even aware that January 29 would become a momentous day for their ancestors?

The trees I often use as silhouettes in my sunrise photos likely weren't there. Many of them were probably planted as part of the timber claims by Kansas settlers. But as men and women left their humble houses on a vast Kansas prairie and ventured out to feed or milk cattle on a brisk January morning, did they watch the clouds illuminated as the sun made its way toward the horizon?  Did they appreciate the beauty of a new day, a day that would become an important part of their heritage?

This day, I thought about my family members who packed up their families and moved across the nation to Kansas for new opportunities for themselves and their families.

On my Dad's side, Kentuckian James T. Moore (my dad's great-grandfather) came to Kansas in the late 1860s, spending a brief time as a helper to a buffalo hunter. He was impressed with the potential of Kansas for cattle grazing and went home to tell his wife, Chalista, that "the grass stood as high as the stirrups on a horse."

In 1876, he and Chalista brought their family to Kansas in a covered wagon drawn by oxen. They arrived in December of 1876 in Sodtown, Kansas, later known as Stafford. (And isn't it ironic that his great-great-granddaughter ended up later calling Stafford home!)

A hotel proprietor there mentioned to J.T. that he might do well to homestead in Pratt County. And so he did, 15 years after Kansas became a state.

The Moores filed a claim which lay 3 miles east and a half mile north of what is now Byers in northern Pratt County. They began living on the claim in the spring of 1877. They later filed a timber claim which originally gave them a total of 320 acres of land.

My mom's grandfather, Charley James Neelly, came to Pratt County from his native Missouri in 1898. Charley went to work for a farmer. In 1900, he married Ethel Denton, and they had 10 children, including my grandfather, Shelby Neelly, the second oldest.

So, on this Kansas Day 2016, I thought about these pioneers, the people in my family who saw opportunity in the Central Plains. As a jet stream pierced the canvas of Kansas sky, I thought how incredulous they'd be at the changes to this place they called home. And I was thankful for the vision that brought them to this state I love so much.

Happy Anniversary, Rayl's Hill!

September 2011

A faithful sentinel has provided a backdrop for all the Kansas seasons for 100 years. Since 1915, the Rayl's Hill elevator has been a landmark for travelers on 4th Street Road just west of Hutchinson.

The elevator has "Thos.Rayl, 1915" embossed on the south side.

Thomas Rayl was 3 years old when he arrived in Hutchinson, Kansas from Indiana in the back of his parents' covered wagon. In 1898, Rayl, 24, married 16-year-old Clara Page. The young couple moved to a home on a small "hill" west of Hutchinson. In other parts of the country, the small "rise" probably wouldn't be considered much of a hill. But the definition was different in the plains of central Kansas.

Rayl became a successful farmer and needed a place to store his grain. In 1913, he began designing the elevator, but it wasn't completed until 1915. He had plenty of children to help him put up his harvest. The couple raised 13 boys and a girl on their Reno County farm.

According to an article in The Wichita Eagle, the Rayls' youngest child, Willard Rayl, said cement was 10 cents a sack, adding that his father used "lots of cement and rebar." The elevator cost $2,000 to build. The family used it was wheat storage initially, then used it to store silage.

June 2010

Near the elevator and across from a cemetery on the hill, there's a granite historical monument. It marks the June 23, 1923, visit to the farm when President Warren Harding helped cut a wheat field. Harding had stopped in Hutchinson to address the nation's agricultural problems. Harding spoke to 8,000 students, then made a trip to the state fairgrounds to deliver a speech. He was guest of honor at a public reception at the Bisonte Hotel before taking the five-mile trip to Rayl's Hill.

 

Harding was reluctant at first to climb up on the tractor and operate a wheat binder, according to an article in The Hutchinson News. However, First Lady Florence Harding prodded him, saying, "Oh, go on, Warren! Don't disappoint the newspaper boys. You know they want a story!"

The News praised the president: "A friendly smile, a hearty handclasp, a word or two of greeting."

September 2009

The family farmed the ground until the 1960s, when it was sold. The elevator hasn't been used for years. But it still is a substantial reminder of days gone by, when elevators dotted the plains, accommodating the horses and wagons hauling wheat and other grains in from the surrounding fields.

 

The elevator has certainly been the backdrop for many a Kansas landscape photo, including several for me. I doubt these will be my last.

100 Years: Time Ticks On

For 100 years, a grandfather clock has been a sentinel to history in Randy's family. Randy's mom, Marie, left this note in the clock cabinet:

The clock was made by the Colonial Manufacturing Co. The clock cabinet holds other clues. A couple of yellowed cards give hints about its operation. A few other letters and bills were hidden in the bottom of the cabinet, noting repairs throughout the years.

The clock is now in our living room. Ten decades after a family purchased it from a Stafford furniture store, it's still keeping time, though the chimes no longer ring and it's certainly not as accurate as time on a cell phone screen. A Kansas Farmer writer was intrigued by our century-old clock and used it as a backdrop to one of the photos she took this spring for our Master Farmer/Master Farm Homemaker article. 

This cropped version appeared in the Kansas Farmer online story.

The clock belonged to Roy Russell, the brother of Marie's Mom, Laura Ritts. Laura's Methodist preacher husband, Alvin Ritts, died suddenly in 1944. She moved her family from Ohio back to her hometown of Stafford, where she cared for her mother, Lodie Russell, and her brother, Roy. 

Roy Russell with Marie's sister, Lorene, her husband, Gary, and sons Greg and Garrick. At right, notes and instructions found in the clock.

Randy remembers the clock stood in the living room of the house at 307 North Union Street in Stafford.

Randy in the back with his brother, Lyle, Grandmother Laura Ritts, and sister Kathy on a long-ago Sunday.

The clock ticked away the hours as Laura's children brought their own young families home to visit Grandma.

Marie, her brother Alvin, and sister Lorene with their mother, Laura Russell Ritts in 1969.

When Marie and her sister, Lorene, cleaned out Laura's house, Marie brought the clock to the farm. It stood against a small wall between the dining room and the living room. There, it presided over noontime meals at harvest time. It was a backdrop for birthday celebrations. It faithfully ticked the time while grandchildren played. It stood guard as Marie and Melvin mashed potatoes and roasted turkey for the extended family at Thanksgiving and Christmas. It was a touch stone in Halloween portraits and for other milestones of life.

After Marie died 18 years ago, Melvin wanted each of their children to take a piece of furniture to their own homes. Randy chose the grandfather clock. It has stood in our living room ever since. And, just as it's been doing for the past 100 years, it's been a silent witness to events like prom and Christmas and quiet nights at home.

I always wish I had known Laura better. But even when Randy and I were dating, she was beginning the slippery journey that is Alzheimer's. She died 22 years ago, on May 14, 1992, at the age of 93. She was born October 21, 1898, at Stafford, the daughter of Edward and Lodie Maria Moore Russell.

Laura and her sister, Mildred

She was a 1916 graduate of Stafford High School and graduated from Kansas State Agricultural College in 1925 with a bachelor of arts degree in music.

She loved music, just like I do. I wish I had known her then. She, like me, taught Sunday School and directed children's musical productions at Stafford Methodist Church. She, too, was a member of Stafford Drama Guild, but it was long before I arrived on the scene. I think we would have had lots to talk about, if dementia hadn't interfered.

As we approached the 100th anniversary of the clock, I dug out boxes of photos, looking for photos of the clock in the background. I didn't find many. But I did find others that tell part of Randy's history.

The family photos were at Melvin's and Marie's house, but they came home with us after Randy, his siblings and I got tired of sorting. As oldest, Randy became the unofficial keeper of the family archives, I suppose. As we stuffed old photos and scrapbooks into plastic tubs, we all said that we'd sort through them "some day."

Every so often, I pull them out, looking for an old photo. There seem to be far fewer photos from Marie's side of the family. Maybe they didn't save as many things, as the young Ritts family moved from parsonage to parsonage for Rev. Alvin's next pastoral appointment. On a preacher's salary, maybe they couldn't afford studio images of their growing family.

I found a few photos that Randy never remembers seeing before. This one was of Alvin & Laura with their first child, Alvin, named after his father, who also became a Methodist minister and died too young.

Then there was one of Marie as a baby. These tubs taking up room in the basement tell a story of family -- of people and events that shaped the course of a family.

The chair also came from Grandma Ritts' house

And so the clock ticks. A new baby will be born into the family come September. Another name will be added to the family chronicles. And the clock will be there in the background - a silent sentinel to time passing.