Bess: A Pioneer Woman's Journey of Courage, Grit and Love

by Charles Cranston Jett

  “The wife, Stella,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m looking for help to build a sod house,” she said. “I have land just over the state line directly south of town. Mr. Currie said to talk with you about it.”

  “Found a spot for it yet?”

  “I was thinking of locating it on the side of the little hill … build it a little bit into the hill.”

  “Best way to build ’em,” he said. “Smart not building it on the flat. Keeps it dry in the rain ’cuz clay runs deep on the hillsides over there to the south.” He spoke with a slight accent that sounded similar to Karl and Derek, Bess’ traveling companions to Lemmon.

  They briefly discussed what she was thinking about regarding the house. Bess wanted to have two rooms—a main living room that would include the stove and kitchen area, and a separate bedroom. She wanted a window in the front and on the side in the bedroom. She also wanted a flat roof or a slightly tilted roof to provide drainage. She wanted a sturdy front door with no windowpanes, just a solid door.

  “Good sod down there,” Mr. Feist said. “Prairie grass has strong roots. You need that to make it last. Built one for the Nygaards just east of there last year.”

  “How long will it take to build?” she asked.

  “About a week to a week and a half. Depends on if we run into many rocks when digging it out. Sod will be no problem. I got a cutting plow. Makes the job easier.”

  Mr. Feist explained that to cut the sod, he used a cutting plow that had adjustable rods that cut the sod into rows about three to six inches thick. The rows should be more than a foot wide—about fifteen to eighteen inches would be the best. After cutting the sod rows, they would be cut into bricks about three feet long.

  The sod bricks would be laid with the grass side down. He generally laid down three rows of the sod bricks so the walls would be thick enough to support the weight of the house. Mr. Feist staggered the bricks so the seams between individual bricks were in the middle of the bricks above and below them. On every third or fourth layer the bricks were laid crosswise so the stacks of sod bound together properly. Bess admired the detail in his explanation.

  “Makes the house solid,” Mr. Feist said. “Gotta have strong walls. Want the inside walls plastered?” Bess nodded, though she felt confused. Mr. Feist chuckled. “If the walls are plastered, it cuts down on the dust, but you will have to do some work shaving the sod inside before we plaster.”

  “Shaving the sod?” Bess asked.

  “You take a sharp shovel or hoe, and that closes bug holes as well as keeps the walls balanced. You don’t want ’em crooked at all. Hard work, but worth it in the end. I can do it for you, or you can do that yourself. Don’t take long.”

  “I think I can do it,” Bess said. “You might need to show me how.”

  “Like I said, you need to shave the inside walls good if you want to plaster them,” he said, “Got a stove?”

  “Not yet.”

  “You can get a good coal stove at Curries. They know which ones work best and order ’em from Dickinson. Mr. Currie should have the stove pipes that you’ll need in stock, too.”

  They talked about the cost for building the house, putting in the stove, pipes, windows, and doors, as well as sealing the floor.

  “About two hundred dollars,” said Mr. Feist. Bess was pleasantly surprised that it was much less than she had expected. She had more than enough money to pay for it and still have a lot to spare.

  “When can you start?” she asked.

  “Monday if you want. Got a hired man, Ken Fisher, who can dig where you want it. Should take only a day or so. Then we’ll cut the sod and start building if it doesn’t rain.”

  “Monday, then,” she said.

  “Monday. Let’s go in and have Stella write it up. Show Ken where you want it today and he’ll start bright and early on Monday. Good man. Works fast.”

  They went inside and Stella wrote up a simple receipt without any comment. Quiet woman, thought Bess. Bess gave her a small deposit to get things going. The receipt listed the things she and Mr. Feist had discussed, plus the addition of several layers of tarpaper that would be put on the roof to prevent leakage from the rain.

  As Bess headed back into town, she couldn’t help be feel a healthy relief that she had overcome a very large hurdle. When she got to the Currie Store and asked Mr. Currie about stoves. She explained that the house she would be building would have interior space measuring twenty-by-twenty feet, or four hundred square feet, and there would be two rooms. Mr. Currie recommended the coal-fired stove, as it would have the capacity she would need. He did not have any in stock, however, so he ordered one and it would be hauled down from Dickinson to Haley during the next week. Bess was surprised at the reasonable thirty-dollar price of the stove and paid him in advance. Mr. Currie said he would hold her supplies that had been freighted down from Dickinson until she needed them. Everything seemed to be falling into place.

  Bess saddled up Annabel and rode over to her property. It felt wonderful to ride onto the land. It’s my property, she said to herself. All mine! Bess rode over to the small hill on the eastern part of the property; she dismounted and walked around for a while, looking for an appropriate spot for the house. She wanted it to face in a westerly direction so the sun would shine through the front window in the afternoon. The bedroom window would face north, toward Haley.

  The prairie grass near where the house would be built was thick and lush, with a strong root system, which Mr. Feist said would be needed to make the walls strong. He had also told her that it was good timing to build a sod house because the sod would be neither too wet nor too dry. That would help it settle once the sod bricks had been laid.

  Bess thought about the disadvantages of living in a house made of dirt--possible leakage, mice, insects, and the like, but that didn’t bother her. She could plaster the inside walls, and the house would be very well insulated—warm in even the harshest winter and cool in the summer. She would also have a wooden floor installed over a sand base. She knew that for a while it might feel a little damp inside, but that would go away over time as the sod bricks cured in the sun.

  Back in Cando, the Parkers had a root cellar. Bess intended to dig one after building the house, shed, corral, and chicken coop not only to provide a storage space for food that needed to be kept cool, but also as a shelter against any tornado. She had heard that there were often strong thunderstorms in this area, and there was always the possibility of a tornado. Whenever one of those storms threatened, seeking shelter in a root cellar would be wise.

  The weekend went by quickly, and Annabel and Bess went for a long ride around the property, as well as in some of the surrounding areas to become more familiar with the terrain. She saw several herds of pronghorn antelope—light-tan and white and rather distant. When she would ride toward them, they’d turn around and dash away at incredible speeds. With one small herd she saw a few small antelope calves that were that could run almost as fast as the adults. These were the first antelope she had ever seen, and she wondered if she would be able to shoot one at some time for food. She had heard that antelope meat was very tasty, like venison.

  Bess also met up with Ken Fisher, who lived in town, and together they rode to the property and picked out what she felt was the perfect spot for him to begin digging into the side of the hill.

  “Let’s see what’s under there,” he said as he began digging with the small spade he had brought with him. He had dug just a little, to make sure there were not a lot of rocks to cope with. Fortunately, the ground beneath the sod on the side of the hill was free from any large rocks. “Good soil,” said Ken. “Not rocky, and that’s good.”

  He told her it would take a day and a half to complete the work for a twenty-by-twenty-foot sod house. Brian would begin the work on the sod the day after completion.

  When Monday came, Bess saddled Annabel and went to the property where she found Ken already at work. “Been here since six,
” he said, as he continued to dig and shovel the dirt to the side of the considerable dent he had already made in the side of the hill. “Easy going. Even better than I thought.”

  He had started to dig where the back wall would be. “See here, Miss Parker. Soil on your back wall is nice and dry. Lots of dry clay. Won’t let water drain into the house when it rains and the snow melts. Brian told me to make sure.”

  Bess watched Ken for a short while, but she didn’t want to distract him from his work, so she went up to the top of the little hill about forty yards away. There were many flat rocks on the top and on the east side of the hill, and Bess had an idea. Why not build a stone Johnnie? she thought. She didn’t take any time to ponder the thought and started to build a stone Johnnie right in the middle of the hilltop. Annabel seemed uninterested and enjoyed grazing on the green summer grass.

  It didn’t take long until she had a small Johnnie about three feet high and about two-by-two feet square. Bess kept her eye out for rattlesnakes but saw none. She was quite proud of what she had built and thought she could make it at least a couple feet higher so you could see it from a distance, maybe even from Haley. Bess thought that if someone in Haley asked her where she lived, she could point to the hill south of town and say, “Just down the hill a bit from the stone Johnnie.”

  Bess rode back down the hill to where Ken was digging. He paused from his work and said, “Building yourself a Johnnie, I see. Gonna get yourself some sheep?”

  “That’s my plan,” Bess replied. “Ewes. Maybe thirty or so.”

  By midafternoon the next day, Ken had finished digging the hole into the side of the hill. Bess was amazed at how perfectly level he had made the floor and how the side and back walls were so straight and vertical. Hopefully the rain would stay away for the next few days as Mr. Feist cut the sod and built the house.

  Bess had never seen anyone cut sod before. Mr. Feist had a special kind of plow—the sod cutter—and he could adjust it so that he could cut long strips of sod fifteen inches wide and five or six inches thick. To pull the plow he had two very large and strong-looking oxen that seemed to struggle as the plow cut the sod, and she could hear the sound of the roots of the thick prairie grass as they were torn from the ground. Sort of a soft ripping noise, she thought.

  Mr. Feist was taking the sod from a flat place on the south side of the hill. After cutting two or three long strips, he would stop and cut the strips into three-foot lengths. Then he would put the strips on a small wagon and haul them over to the house where he would lay them carefully, grass-side down, one at a time. Upon finishing that, he would repeat the process.

  “Can’t cut too many strips at once,” he said. “Sun dries ’em out too fast and that’s no good.”

  To keep herself occupied, but also to contribute to the effort, Bess took a sharp shovel and hoe, went to the dugout, and carefully started shaving the back wall, which was not sod but dry clay. Mr. Feist came over a couple of times and gave Bess tips on how to get the wall completely straight. To help make it perfectly vertical, she used a plumb line. The work wasn’t as hard as she had imagined.

  By the end of the day, the sod had been laid neatly around the base of the house and one row had been laid inside to form the wall separating the kitchen and the bedroom. This wall had to be thick as well, because Mr. Feist was going to lay wooden planks and supports to form the ceiling, which would cover the outside by several layers of tarpaper and then be covered with a thinner layer of sod. The roof would tilt slightly from the back of the house toward the front to prevent rainwater from collecting and standing on the roof. The sod on the roof would provide insulation; Mr. Feist would cut it thinner than the sod for the walls because the wooden planks and three beams would need to support the weight.

  During the next two days, Ken Fisher joined Mr. Feist, and together they proceeded rapidly. By the end of the day on Wednesday, they had completed the walls to the height Bess desired and had carefully framed the windows and doors using wooden rods that were driven into the sod. These would provide support for the frames for both the windows and doors.

  On Thursday, they brought the four beams they would use to support the roof and ceiling, fixed them to the sod walls where they had built the walls thicker for support, and then put in the smaller planks crosswise to the beams. They secured the ceiling planks and laid tarpaper three sheets thick on top of the roof before covering the roof with a layer of sod that was only about three inches thick. The roof was tilted forward just enough to prevent water from settling on the roof and causing a source of leakage through the ceiling.

  The house was beginning to look like a house built into a hill, and that is exactly what it was! Bess had spent time inside the house carefully shaving the walls as Mr. Feist had shown her. She would need to let the shaved walls dry out for a few weeks before putting plaster on them.

  Two steps remained in the construction of what was now Bess’s house. The first was to put in the front door and the two windows, and the second was to carefully smooth the floor, cover it with about two inches of dry sand, and then place rough-cut pine planks and fasten them over the entire floor. Eventually Bess would put a rug on that floor, but she had to wait until the house itself had a chance to cure.

  Bess’s coal stove had arrived on Friday, and after the windows and doors had been put in, Mr. Feist and Ken installed the stove in the back right corner of the living room/kitchen so the stovepipe could go directly up through the ceiling. To the right of the stove was the west-facing window that would provide light during the day.

  By the following Wednesday, all of the work had been completed. Mr. Feist, Ken, and Bess inspected the new creation and it was clear that the men were proud of their creation.

  “You got a house now, Bess,” said Ken.

  “Yup,” said Mr. Feist. “A real good soddy! That’s what they’re called.”

  “I’ll need a shed and a corral,” said Bess. “For Annabel, and eventually a cow. Chicken coop, too, but a small one.”

  They talked about building the small shed, the corral attached to the shed, and the chicken coop. They agreed that those would be built over the next two weeks.

  “Outhouse could go over there,” said Ken as he pointed to a spot just beyond where the corral would be and slightly down the hill. It’s necessary for every homestead.” Ken suggested it would be best to dig the hole and construct the outhouse after they had found the site for the well. “Keep the outhouse downhill from the well,” Ken said.

  “Makes sense to me,” said Bess. “Let’s wait.”

  Mr. Feist told Bess about a gentleman in Haley, Art Paulson, who dug wells for homesteaders. “There is good ground water around here, Bess,” Mr. Feist said. “Water is probably only twenty feet or so down from the bottom of the hill near your house. It would be easy for him to dig a well for you; then you wouldn’t have to go to the creek.” Like many in the area, he pronounced it “crick.”

  Over the course of the following two weeks, Art Paulson had dug a fine well thirty yards from the front of her door. Bess didn’t need a lift pump, because the well was shallow and she could get water by lowering a bucket. That would have to do until next spring or summer when she could put in a pump. “It’s deep enough so it won’t freeze,” said Mr. Paulson.

  Ken and Mr. Feist had also built the wooden shed, chicken coop, and corral. Now Bess would have shelter for Annabel, an eventual cow, and the small herd of sheep that she planned to buy.

  Ken came two days later, dug the toilet hole slightly down the hill, to prevent pollution in the well, and built the outhouse—a small “two- seater” with a vent shaped like a new moon cut into one of the planks near the roof of the structure.

  The sod in the walls of the house had dried sufficiently over the three- week period, so Bess was able to plaster all of the inside walls, put in the sand base on the floor and Ken installed the rough pine planks. It took them two full days to finish, but by the time they were done, the house was starting t
o look quite nice inside.

  There were two rainstorms during that period, and one of them was quite hard and lasted for almost a full day. Fortunately, there was no sign of any leakage inside the house. Bess sighed in relief. After the plaster had completely dried, she painted the walls white to brighten up the inside.

  From Haley, Bess could barely see the house in the distance on the side of the hill. But since she had added two feet of rock to her stone Johnnie, she could see it clearly in the distance like a small finger pointing up into the sky. She had ordered some wooden furniture from the Currie Store consisting of a bed, table, four small chairs, and a small bench. These were all made of varnished knotty pine—a soft wood—and the natural color fit nicely into her décor.

  In the middle of June, she thoroughly cleaned the inside of the house and hung white curtains that looked like the ones Mama had made, though they weren’t pure lace. But they reminded her of home, making her very happy.

  Everything had fallen into place as Bess had hoped. The plan is working, she thought. I now have a homestead property, a house, a shed and corral, a chicken coop, and a well. Outhouse, too!

  Ken dug the hole for the root cellar and Bess helped secure the roof to prevent leakage. She received the furniture from the Currie Store, as well as her two trunks she had put in storage. She checked out of the small boarding house hotel, put the furniture into the house, arranged it the way she wanted, and stood back and smiled. Now it’s not just a house. It’s my home!

  The thoughts and memories of Bess’s journey, and of all the preparations, the planning, the goodbyes to Mama and Papa, the train from Leeds all the way to Dickinson, the trips to Haley with the freight wagon and to Lemmon to file her homestead, were clear in her mind. Especially dear to her was the fresh and ever-present memory of meeting Linda and their time together in Dickinson. We’ll build future memories together, she thought confidently. All of those memories, and then some, led up to this moment: the most important and satisfying moment of all.