Recipes for Living Fremont Township

This area of the state was almost totally uninhabited in the 1840s. A few Mormon families who were on their way to Utah spent the winter of 1847, about 6 miles south of the present town of Osceola. These families engaged in some farming in Fremont Township in 1848, and were here about 3 years before continuing on to the state of Utah. More settlers began arriving in 1850 and 1851. One of the first permanent residents of the county was Robert Jamison, a farmer who made his money selling corn to the Mormons.

Seven miles southeast of Osceola, in Fremont Township, the town of Jamison grew up but never became incorporated. The town's Main Street ran through a valley between steep hills on the northwest and southeast. Most of the town was on the side of the hill along which business establishments located. At one time there was a general store, a blacksmith shop, two other retail stores, and a barber shop. Other important buildings were a church, a school and a depot. A post office was established and discontinued from November 1, 1917 until February 1920, and then reestablished. The location was then moved from store to store. Jamison even had its own telephone system shortly before WWI, and still had limited use in the early 1960s.

There was a considerable amount of very good farm land, and was not far from the coal mining areas in Lucas County. For a very short time, a strip mine operated about a half mile southwest of town. There were some deposits near Jamison which proved to be suitable for brick making. And there were good stands of timber. The influence of the railroad, however, was undoubtedly the most important factor. Its "heyday" was when the railroad was enjoying its greatest importance, but other transportation developments diminished its importance. The number of cars and trucks increased rapidly, Highway 69 was constructed near the town. In the late 1940s, a large amount of track was washed out by flood waters, never to be rebuilt. The town declined as fast as the railroad and its story is the same as many other villages that grew up with the railroad.. The writing from which this was taken, date and author unnamed, closes with "It is hard to imagine there was a little village where, today, the weeds grow and the junk cars rust away."

The site of Jamison was surveyed on September 27, 28, 29 of 1881. It is believed the name Jamison was selected to honor the first permanent settlers in Clarke County. The pronunciation of the first syllable of Jamison causes some disputes. The Jamison family pronounce their name as you would pronounce James. Most residents of the village pronounce its name as you do the preserve you put on bread. At least this is a more pleasant explanation than the one that holds it was named as it was because it was a little town jammed down between two hills.

Another writing in this file is entitled "Trains and 'Teens" in the 20s." We were a "wind-splitting" bunch of horseback\riders in Jamison, Iowa in the early 1920s. We broke our own ponies and horses, rode them unsaddled, and vied with dogs of the village and coyotes, for speed!

Some of the folks of the village, especially our beloved storekeeper, Carol (Doc) Barnard, staggered under the problem of these "horsemen." They needn't have worried. We were only growing up in our time; only pitted against Father Time in a race with modern history.

Nothing belonged more in Jamison more than riding ponies and horses for going somewhere FAST, until the steam and iron came through this thriving and cultured village with a branch line from Des Moines, south to Osceola on Monday mornings.

To my knowledge,we had many trains a day, except Sundays, through Jamison. There was the "9:00" a.m. train which arrived at about 8:45 going north to New Virginia, approximately a distance of 5 miles. Some of the high school group rode this train to New Virginia, entering the new school as Freshman. This was in the fall of 1925. Sometimes we walked home to see if we could beat the 6:00 train.

Pupils still in "country school," carried their lunch pails and walked or rode their "steeds" up to the schoolhouse on the hill, a mile southwest of the village. This was their trek so as to be informed on the 3 R's and world affairs.

Other passenger trains, as I recall were: 8:45 A. M. northbound; approx. 10:00 A. M. southbound; 2:30 P.M. southbound; 4:00 P.M. northbound; 6:00 P.M. southbound; 9:00 P.M. northbound. That's 6 passenger trains a day, not including freights. Much freight came into the village, especially for Liberty and Jamison stores. Passengers' fares were 2c a mile. A ticket to Osceola cost 16c and longer distances accordingly.

The mail was thrown off in a bag from the train every day. Carol (Doc) Barnard was the storekeeper and helped in the Post Office some, though Mrs. Fred Miller was official Postmaster.

Some students, outside of Jamison, and near Highway 69, attended Osceola High School by auto. The McGee family used this means. Wilma and Clarice were driven by their brother Wilbur (Bip) in the popular "Tin Lizzie" or the "Model T."

McGees purchased one of the first "Model A's", probably in 1927. "Bip" experienced muddy, rutted and frozen, bumpy roads before the highway was ever paved. More than often they were stuck in these muddy ruts. A flat tire or blowout was not unusual. Occasionally, after pushing, clawing mud, going backward and forward, a radiator too hot, blew up! Then the clutch could go out, too!

One specific time, after our family had moved to the farm one mile south of Jamison and after the Jamison depot was closed, where Charles H. Frame was the agent and telegrapher*, we were on our way to school. "Charlie" was driving the car and we were only one mile from town —near the old "baseball park." He sunk in a the sticky mud, deeply. We pushed. Couldn't move the '28 Chevy. Finally the clutch went out. We were late for school. My father, being Irish, having 5 kids and a determined Dutch wife at home, got out. He kicked the car, said some very unkind words to it and blamed it all on my mother, who was at home tending the chickens!

These routes to school, made some excessive demands on those who walked and on the horse, rider, car-driver, and those in general, who had to meet the trains from a distance. The paved highways finally promised relief from these conditions, for us all.

Rural teachers wages went from $65 to $75 to $80 beginning with 1929, and in 1932 wages dropped to $40 and $45 per month. When I started teaching in '29, we signed a three-months contract. If the parents weren't satisfied, we then could leave. I taught eight months in a period, as most all did. There were all of the grades through the 8th. I had a Normal Training Certificate acquired in High School and issued by the State of Iowa.

After the school term was finished the teacher usually had a summer job lined up and/or summer school. There was not much rest for the "Depression teenager." We lived on gardens, homemade bread, butchering, milking, canning and probably about $12 per month for extras like coffee, sugar, flour and good-sized bottles of liniment and pain relief? The medications were usually purchased through an area peddler, whom we almost considered a relative in emergency — Joe Knight "the Baker Man" selling these products. Our family made our own cough syrup. We stuck a good-sized, hollowed-out horseradish (an herb) into a fruit jar and filled the center of the "radish" with sugar. It made its own syrup.

Skunk-oil, goose-grease, and liniment were our rub-ons. Sulpher and molasses was the spring tonic, which made us have an odor, like sulpher, when we danced and sweat! We seldom saw a doctor.

Most of us who were teenagers in the '20s didn't marry early and some not at all. We had no money so we couldn't afford this luxury! We courted by postcard in the U.S. Mails. When we heard the train a-whistling, we dashed over to the depot and the baggage man would accept our letters and cards. The mail always seemed to come through and went out on time, in this village. Our postmaster regularly carried the bag of mail over to the depot, too.

Fairness, co-operation and good sportsmanship were shaped by the give and take on the baseball field. In the country schools, boy-girl relationships were guided into healthy channels by having mixed games on the schoolground. Many activities helped develop the whole child in the '20s. They were house parties and house-dances, roller skating and some ice skating; hunting and trapping, in open season, for money and pleasure. Sleigh riding on the big hills, skiing by the more daring teenagers — and ditch jumping. Church and Sunday School and certainly Epworth League at nights on Sunday. Church programs, school programs, and socials (box suppers). Spelling bees, local and county. Cards played in winter (mostly pitch) but not for money — who had money? Summer swimming in the creek, tadpoles included! Horseshoe pitching, and horse riding — of course bareback. Some private taffy-pulls. The Jamison teenager, then, could have attested to a thorough program of physical education and recreation at almost no cost. There were wholesome habits acquired for a lifetime.

We had our own "country music." Piano, violins, banjoes, and one little girl who really could sing! Many in the group were "callers" for square dances. A winter night when a sleighful of us went to New Virginia for roller skating, the sleigh full of hay, blankets, and singing. McGees had a tennis court and a miniature golf course we could use on Sunday.

There were approximately 30 of us regularly in the group. Most of us could stay up as late as we chose and enjoyed cocoa, coffee and sandwiches at everybody's house. Some smoked an occasional cigar at a chivaree. Under such conditions is it not wonderful that we are willing to sit back and say that we "danced throuth the great Depression?"

Our parents and older friends made these conditions possible for us by always accompanying us. We weren't really aware of this. They were just part of the group when we "operated" as 'teens in the '20s at Jamison, Iowa.

* Raymond McGee wrote about the importance of the telegraph in those days. Train dispatchers gave orders concerning train movements by telegraph. The agent telegrapher was required to repeat the order to guard against mistakes and make the order in manifold, giving a copy to the conductor, one to the engineer, and retain one for the agent's files. There was a saying, "The clergyman knows about our souls, the doctor about our ailments, and the station agent knows everything."

Invented by Samuel Finley Breese Morse, the code played an important role in American life. Samuel Morse knew the letter "E" was the most or among the most used letter in the English language so he used one dot or click for "E" using longer formations for the less used letters such as Q and Z. This speeded up the transmission of train orders and for other purposes. It reported many important events. The use of the telegraph in many Battles of the Civil War gave the North a great advantage over the South, which did not have a mobile organization in the field.

THE BATTLE OF FORT GOBEL
By Ollie Glenn DeSelm, who died in California in 1942 at the age of 92, via Marie White

Clarke County was aroused by reports of a group of "Copperheads"who threatened the lives of northern soldiers who were home on furlough. There was no moon that night late in August 1863. Bracket Davidson was late with his chores and was groping in his cornfield for some early ears to feed his squealing pigs. He froze in his tracks when he heard voices from the near-by highway, "We will hang Bill Hamilton before morning."

Now, Bill Hamilton was one of Bracket's best friends, and was a soldier home on wounded furlough from the Battle of Shiloh. Young Hamilton had been wounded twice. As he told me many times, he did not know which bullet hit him first, the one in his arm or the one in his leg. Bracket knew now that his friend's life was in danger.

Those were strenuous days, and while the young men of the county were away fighting for the Union, many Southern sympathizers had grown bold in that section of Iowa and Clarke County. Some had grown to be very insulting in their remarks about the North. One family in particular, known as the Gobels, lived very near to what is now the little village of Jamison. Some of their insulting remarks had reached the ears of young Hamilton on bis arrival home. He had enlisted early in the war and had been in the thickest of some of the big battles. When these insulting remarks were brought to his attention, he was determined to do something about it.

Young Hamilton buckled his revolver belt around him one day and rode away. His destination was the home of the Gobels. As he rode up to the house, he noticed a watermelon patch nearby. Dismounting, he strode into the patch and was soon accompanied by one of the young Gobels. As they sat on the ground, each eating one-half of a watermelon, young Hamilton broached the subject of the War. Young Gobel made some insulting remark about President Lincoln, and in return received the half of the watermelon that young Hamilton had been eating flush in his face. By the time he had cleared the watermelon from his face and thought the matter over, Hamilton had mounted his horse and departed. This was the direct cause of the "Battle of Fort Gobel."

When Bracket Davidson heard the threat mentioned in the foregoing paragraphs, he knew something must be done. He arrived at Captain Glenn's shortly before midnight. He told what he had heard earlier in the evening. There were no telephones, autos, or radios in those days, and the method of spreading the alarm would seem very slow today. Horseback riders were sent in all directions — to the county seat, Osceola, and to Hopeville, a little village in the southwest part of the county, some eighteen miles, By three o'clock in the morning, the Gobel's log house was surrounded and a battle was imminent.

The men whom Bracket Davidson had heard bragging of what they were going to do had come from a settlement of Southern sympathizers in Madison county. These Southern sympathizers were known as "Copperheads." While the Gobel house was being surrounded, two of these men slipped through the picket line and made their way back to Madison County.

When daylight came, it was evident that the Gobels were well prepared. They had removed the chinkings between the logs of their house and rifles could be seen protruding from these portholes. Military tactics were put in force. Captain Glenn was made Commander-in-Chief. The brush was full of old men, boys, and what soldiers happened to be at home. It was only through the good judgment of Captain Glenn, who had not only seen service in the war waging at that time, but also in the war with Mexico that kept his men from firing on "Fort Gobel."

Immediately he began to negotiate with the Gobels to surrender. William Green, then a young man living in the neighborhood, carried the message under a flag of truce from Captain Glenn's headquarters to the Gobels. Captain Glenn's only son, Tom, was also with his father at the time of the "battle."

About 9:00 in the morning, Captain Glenn's 14-year old daughter, Ollie (author of this report), came with her chum, America Brown, with hot coffee and sandwiches for her father's "army." To show the courage of these two brave girls, they walked to the gate in direct line of fire from the rifles in the hands of men who might shoot at any moment.

As time went by, Captain Glenn's patience was beginning to be tried. He sent to Osceola and had a small cannon* brought out. This cannon was trained on the log house where the Gobels were ambushed, and a note was immediately sent to remove the women and children as he was going to open fire. In a very short time, a white tablecloth was seen floating from one of the windows of the "fort." Again Captain Glenn's good judgment prevailed. These men were forced to sign the Oath of Allegiance before Squire Folger, were taken to the County line, where they promised never to return to Clarke County.

Late one night, some weeks later, two men rode up to the home of the 2 men in Madison county who had escaped from the "battle" at Fort Gobel. A call from the front gate was answered by one of the men who partially opened the door. One of the men outside raised his rifle and shot the man standing in the door. A very strange coincidence in that tragedy was that the dead man's brother, who escaped from "Fort Gobel" with him asleep in the same room and was killed by the same bullet. Young Hamilton and his friend, George Brown, another soldier home on wounded furlough, were thought by some to be the men who did the shooting, but neither would confess or deny the rumor. This put a stop to most of the trouble which was being caused at that time by the "Copperheads" in that neighborhood.

Instead of young Hamilton being hanged , he went back to his company, went with Sherman to the Sea, and stayed with the Northern Army to the war's end. He then returned and was made captain of the home militia. To the day of his death, he was known as Cap Hamilton. * Osceola's cannon: One mounted on a platfoim with a stack of cannon balls beside it remained in the courtyard into the late 40s or early 50s, before it was sold for scrap metal. Gerald Clark remembers there had at one time been two, the above-mentioned from the Civil War, another was a 2.5" or a 3" off a 4-stack destroyer during WWI. This is an invitation to anyone who had more information about their origin to share it with Fern Underwood and it will be added to this history.

Church history began with the grandfather of Ruby Green Herron. She tells that her grandfather Green donated land from his farm for a cemetery and gave money to build the first church in 1892. He had come from West Virginia with his wife and four children when slaves were freed. He brought with him two elderly slaves that he realized would have no money value and would not have survived. He purchased several hundred acres of land which included a house that he provided for the slaves. They slipped away one night because they no longer felt safe among all white people. He didn't hear from them again.

The church was located along Ohio Street at the top of a hill. As was true in other cases, the churches of that era had a definite impact on the cultural and social life of the region. In addition to worship services, there was a large Sunday School and Epworth League. Christmas programs, celebrations of anniveraries and weddings, amateur theatrical programs, homecoming events and church picnics all drew large crowds.

Over the years, family farms failed to support families, consolidation eliminated rural schools. Larger cities offered industrial jobs, modes of transportation and communication changed and Jamison went the way of other rural communities. There is bare evidence of what once was a thriving community. At the time of their centenniel, there were seven houses, not all occupied, and about 20 residents. The weeds grow and junk cars rust away. The once active church was closed in 1961, torn down in 1970, and the land converted to farm use.