Published: August 20, 2008 12:43 am            

Reading postcards from days gone by

Postcards and letters written by participants in historic events to the folks back home always offer a more intimate look at the personalities of the participants, and reveal a “behind the scenes” look at what was really going on with the people who took part.

In September 1957, several postcards written by the late Edmund Frantz to the folks back home in the days just before and right after that great race for free land in the Cherokee Outlet on Sept. 16, 1893, were displayed in the front window of Chenoweth & Green Music Co. store that was next door to Enid Security National Bank.

The bank was the site of Frantz’s hardware store, which was built right after the land run. However, because Frantz was driving a wagon — heavily loaded with plows and shovels and other hardware items he would need to open his store — in the race for land he did not win a claim.

Instead, he bought the lot on which the bank now stands and opened his hardware store.

In fact the bank in recent years installed a plaque in the sidewalk on the north side of the bank designating that spot as the location of a water well Frantz dug right after the land run to provide a place for customers to water their horses.

Frantz’s first postcard home was mailed from Caldwell, Kan., before the land run. “Dear Wife,” he wrote. “We all got registered all OK, Jno., Orville and all are now on our way — nice and cool and doing nicely. Billy is here and says to tell Oma, Much love, your Edmund.” Now some other participants in that historic race for land described the weather as very hot, windy and dusty just before and on the day of the run. One called the conditions “miserable.”

But not Frantz. His only comment to his wife back home was, “nice and cool and doing nicely.” It was a comment that probably made his wife feel better about this great adventure her husband was embarking on in an unknown place.

“Dear Wife,” the second card read, “We are in camp. I am making coffee. Got thru all right. Mr. Murphy got a good claim. Royce Hall was the first man and picked his claim and will board with us. Jno. Brighter and Bob Hunter got claims within a mile of town. Maud and Loula could make $500 a week here with something to eat. We are in for a boom town. Love to the babies. Show this to Father Frantz and the rest, Lovingly Edmund.”

The cards in the 1957 Chenoweth & Green display were loaned to the store by Mrs. Frantz and her daughter, Maurine. They were described as highly valued philatelic items.

Despite the fact Frantz had purchased the downtown Square site for his hardware store, a squatter moved on the lot while Frantz was gone to get some coffee. But all was not lost. Frantz had a two-gun cowboy friend, and when the cowboy saw the squatter on the lot he was so angry he went over to him brandishing his two six-shooters and frightened the squatter away.



Presidents, what ails them



Well, in about three and a half months we will elect another president, and as it has been from the beginning, the health of the president will be a big newsmaker. Our very first president, George Washington took the oath of office on April 30, 1789, and within six weeks he was running a fever and suffering from what was described as a “soreness in a protuberance on his left hip.” It was an especially nasty boil called a carbuncle.

And, as is always the case, the rumors were flying. One rumor called it a malignant tumor. Another said he had anthrax, picked up from ailing animals. It was also known as woolsorters or ragpickers disease.

It was especially painful, and Washington didn’t get over it quickly. At that time, our nation’s capital was in New York City. Washington was in so much pain the authorities roped off Cherry Street in front of his residence to spare him the noise of passing traffic.

Finally Dr. Samuel Bard summoned enough courage to lance the sore, draining it. But this was not the end of it. Washington’s recovery was slow and painful. He had the seats of his carriage adjusted so he could stretch out full length on trips, and he stood through some ceremonies because he found it too painful to sit down.

When it comes to the health of the president, “spin doctors” are not something new. A year after he had been in office, Washington came down with pneumonia. He was seriously ill. Senator William MacClay of Pennysylvania said Washington was at death’s door — “Every eye full of tears. His life despaired of.”

But at the same time, Washington’s secretary, Maj. William Jackson, was writing soothingly, “To relieve you from any extraordinary anxiety, I am happy to inform you that the symptoms which attend the President’s indisposition are not threatening.”

Washington recovered.



Brown is a former managing editor of the Enid Morning News.