Cora, Thomas, and Ada Rosser
Among my
mother’s keepsakes is a “Memory Book” with autographs and notes collected by my
great uncle, Thomas Spurgeon
Rosser. The book looks like it probably had a cover at one time, but all that is
left now are a few pages of brittle paper with notes written in pencil. It
contains notes from classmates and family members written between 1890 and
1892.
Uncle Tom was 21
years old when he started his memory book. He had spent his life moving from
one place to another as his family migrated over the 800 miles from Georgia to
Indian Territory. His education would have been haphazard as they moved from one
place to another in an ox drawn wagon. As the only son he helped his father
build or repair cabins where they would settle, plowed the fields, and hunted game.
They would live for several years in one place before moving on, becoming part
of each community.
The Rossers spent
the most time in Palmer Station, Arkansas, about 8 years. You won't find Palmer Station on a map, but it's in eastern Arkansas, not far from the Mississippi River,
where Tom would later return to start his own farm. My grandmother, Tom’s little sister, loved
Palmer Station, with it’s rolling hills, wild flowers and birds. That’s where
she spent her childhood and where Tom probably got most of his education. The older
children went to school at Hyde Park. You won’t find it on the map either.
Grandpa, as my
mother called her grandfather, had been headed for Texas, where
his older brother Ed had settled years earlier, but he was
enchanted by the rich bottom land in the Washita Valley in Indian Territory. In 1888 when he paid the $5 fee to live in the Chickasaw Nation and rented a
farm near Cherokee Town, it had been 22 years since he and his wife Emily had fled the turbulent South.
By then it was probably too late for Grandpa to make it to Texas. His older daughter, Cora, was already married, and Lillie and Kitty were
nearing marriageable age at 16 and 14. By the time he had saved enough money to move again, even his younger
daughters Victoria and Ada, aged 11 and 9, would be practically grown, so he had
to give up on joining Uncle Ed.
Most schools on the frontier were
private “subscription” schools. Grandpa actually got together
with some other settlers and hired a teacher when he first arrived in Indian Territory, but later
he sent his children to a subscription school in Pauls Valley started by one of
my grandfather’s cousins, Amos Waite, who had a college education. The Chickasaws
actually had public schools supported by the tribe, but white children weren’t
eligible to attend. Many Indian children attended subscription schools though. In
fact that’s where my grandmother and grandfather met.
Uncle Tom was 21 when he started his memory book, and he probably figured he had had enough schooling. there aren't many entries in his book. Some sound a little old fashioned, but not unlike notes you'd find today on a high school year book. The notes from his sisters are especially sweet. He must have been a good brother.
The first note in
Uncle Tom’s memory book are from his sister Lillie (age 18):
Night and day have passed away
The hills and valleys part
But the dear affection I hold for you
Dear Brother shall never leave my heart
This Dec 30, 1890, Your sister Lillie
On June 20, 1892 my
grandmother (age 15) added:
Sailing down the sea of time in your little
bark canoe may you have a pleasant trip with just room enough for two.
Your sister Vicie Rosser
Next, a classmate:
To a friend
Oh think of me when far away and only half
awake.
Oh think of me on your wedding day and send
me a piece of cake.
Mary A. Schmidt
Another classmate:
Friend Tommie
May joy through all your future flow
Like water down a tater row
May peace and plenty be your lot
As down the hill of life you roll
Your friend and well wisher,
W.N. Green
Gag notes were
popular then as they are now:
Mr. Tom
If scribbling in albums remembrance insures
With the greatest of pleasure I’ll scribble
in yours
Your friend Josh
An ornery
classmate:
Well Tom you have a long time yit.
But divil the gal you will ever git.
J G R
One of the descendants
of Jesse Chisolm, after whom the Chisolm trail was named wrote:
Mr. Tom
Always remember
your true friend
Emma Chisolm
Finally, a note
from Sister Kittie:
In the evening of life
Cherish the remembrance
Of one who loved thee
In its morning
Jan. 18, 1891
Your sister, Kittie B. R.