Family Stories

If your family lived in the
six counties of the Unassigned Lands prior to statehood,
and you have stories, letters, photographs,
or other information pertaining to their experiences,
please e-mail your posts to me for inclusion on this page.

Her father, George Edward Hubbard, ran for mayor
and owned a hotel in Kingfisher called the Hubbard Hotel.

The Land Run of April 19, 1892
As told by John Clark Hill to his niece, Mrs. Grace Paulsen, Moline, Ill.
1941

On April 19, 1892, the Cheyenne and Arapahoe land was thrown open to homestead settlement by the government. It was a strip of land about 60 miles wide north and south by 175 miles east and west. It was a very fertile, well-watered land, mostly prairie, some good timber – oak and cedar, pecan and walnut.

On the above date at high noon the government had said United States citizens over 21 years of age could enter this land and claim 160 acres for a homestead and to establish your claim you had to be the first one to enter it, set your stake, and claim it for your home. Naturally, this attracted the attention of more than 50,000 people, and they gathered on lines ready for the greatest race ever run in all ancient or modern history.

Can you imagine sitting astride a horse, or in a buggy, or a covered wagon on that line waiting for the soldiers to give the signal gun to go? Out in front was 160 acres worth $1,000, $5,000, $10,000 and ***. If you could get there first. Standing on that line were 10,000 people (since estimated) within 4 miles all keyed up to the highest pitch, determined to be the first one on a coveted 160 acres.

There were more people than there were claims (160 acres); therefore, some would fail, that was the thing that made your hair stand on end when the gun was fired. I had secured an old, sure-footed cowhorse and gone out to the line at midnight, 12 hours to wait, but hundreds were there already.

I finally worked right up to the line in an old cow trail and there I stayed. But going back on my story a little, I had met in King Fisher one of the prettiest, sweetest girls in all the Southwest Country and she had partially agreed with me that, if I was successful in this race and secured a good claim, she might help me hold it down for the five years that the government required.

Naturally, I had more at stake than some others. Directly behind me stood a four-horse covered wagon and back of that stood buggies, wagons, horsebackmen, some on foot, some with rifles, some with six shooters and 10,000 people yelling.

At a minute or two before twelve o’clock, they became as silent as the grave – the soldiers out in front raised their guns and that mad mob started. I do not believe anyone heard that gun; the field was open in front, but oh, that mob behind. Would my horse fall? If he did – well, it would be all over. I would be trampled as though a stampede of wild cattle had gone that way.

Out in front of me I had noticed a sort of little draw and weeds grown up in it and I wondered how deep it was, and if my horse could jump it, and about that heavy four-horse drawn wagon right behind me. My horse went down in the ditch, I felt his legs buckle a little, I held tight to the reins, but he came on the other side – he was scared as badly as I was. That yelling mob behind would have scared the very Imps in Hades.

One buggy lost a wheel and its occupants went sprawling. My old horse hit a pace that would have put Man of War to shame and I went one and one-half miles before I could stop him. When I did, I jumped off and stuck my stake although I was eight rod ahead of the nearest person. It was rather cold, but sweat ran down my face as it does in August.

The first person to come along was R. A. Lyle, an attorney I knew. He motioned to me to let him have my horse, his was all in. He jumped on mine. I told him to be sure and go one-half mile so as not to stop on my claim. He went a mile before he could stoop that old horse, but secured a claim – so, that horse secured a claim for each of us.

There were twelve or fifteen stopped on my claim, but I proved (as the records show) that I was 80 rod ahead of the nearest person. Everyone saw that old, wild, white horse, scared as a jack rabbit, far ahead of them all. I secured a patent from the government to my claim and I sold it for $2,000. The owner has since told me that he has refused $16,000.

Now the most important thing about this story is to come. You know that pretty girl I told you about? Well, she was to come out to live, get as close as she could to see the race. Her father owned a hotel in King Fisher and had a cab drawn by two blooded horses. This girl was very expert in driving or racing, so she took the cab, sat on the driver’s seat, put her mother and several other ladies inside and started out to see the sight. The horses became stalled on a steep hill because of a jam and backed off an embankment, turned the cab over in the creek and floated the occupants all out in the mud and water. Though none was seriously hurt, she failed to see the mighty race. But she stayed out her agreement and together we lived on that farm for several years.

The going was hard sometimes, but from that day to this (49 years), I have never heard her complain. She has taken the ups and downs which have been our lot – always with a smile, always, like the woman with "the lantern in her hand," ready for whatever came – at which I sometimes wonder. If I can only make her last days as happy and thrilling as those earlier ones, I will be happy, but she deserves all I can give and more. There are few her equal and none her superior.

John Clark Hill (born May 19, 1866, Monica, Peoria Co., Illinois; died March 6, 1950, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma Co., Oklahoma; buried Kingfisher Cemetery, Kingfisher Co., Oklahoma)

Married

Edna B. Hubbard (born December 3, 1873, Marseilles., Illinois; died August 24, 1955, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma Co., Oklahoma; buried Kingfisher Cemetery, Kingfisher Co., Oklahoma)

on September 14, 1892, only a few months after the run. She is the "girl" he was speaking of in his account.

The marriage was written up on the The Kingfisher Free Press, Thursday, September 22, 1892:

WEDDING BELLS

HILL-HUBBARD – On Wednesday evening, September 14, the marriage of Mr. John C. Hill to Miss Edna B. Hubbard, was solemnized by the Rev. J. C. Calnon, pastor of the First Congressional church of this city.

The ceremony was performed at the Hubbard House. That popular hostelry was brilliantly illuminated, while the piazza was festooned with vari-colored Japanese lanterns. The parlors were beautifully embellished with clematis and other beautiful floral decorations. Several pretty floral pieces also added to the attractiveness of the rooms, among which were a star and crescent, a horseshoe. A large bell woven from white lace plant hung from the center of the north side of the parlor and behind this were the hearts of pansies joined, significant of two souls beating in unison. The arrangements were elaborate in every particular.

The guest began arriving at eight o’clock, and by half after that hour fully a hundred friends and relatives were present to witness the ceremony. The weather was cool and everything was most auspicious for a happy hour.

At nine Mendelssohn’s wedding march was played by Jefferson Warren and C. M. Makepeace’s orchestra with piano accompaniment by Mrs. J.W. Hammond, and the wedding party started on its progress. Down the long stairway and through the hallway, all the while in an aisle of silken cords, preserved symmetrical by little Misses Ethel and Edith Gillette, Letha Gage and Hallie Mansfield, the party entered the parlor and took their respective stations. The beautiful bell above the happy couple seemed almost to move in its endeavor to ring out the gladsome tidings of two hearts about to be united. Mr. H. H. Watkins and Miss Nell Crosthwait assisted in the picture.

Rev. Calnon, after the impressive manner laid down in the Congressional ritual, pronounced the ceremony.

A short prayer for the happy ones, in which all joined with a hearty amen, concluded the marriage service.

After a short time given over to congratulations, the guests were invited to a banquet. The long tables laid with the whitest of linens, resplendent with silver and cut glass, and burdened with dainty dishes of countless numbers was surely inviting. And those present did ample justice to it.

The description would be incomplete without a remark on the beautiful costumes of the bride and her maid.

The bride wore a brocaded Gloria silk, elaborately trimmed with chiffon and white ribbons. A pretty gold necklace, with diamond pendant encircled her neck. Clad in white slippers and gloves and carrying a bouquet of tea roses she indeed seemed divine.

Miss Crosthwait appeared in a becoming blue Gloria silk, with white trimmings, square front, trimmed with crepe de chene, with ribbon train. White gloves and slippers completed her attire.
The groom and best man, as usual, wore the mournful black.

The young couple entering into this happy contract are well known in our community. Mrs. Hill, as Miss Hubbard, has maintained front rank in social circles. Her presence has been invaluable as a leader in church affairs. Charming as a maiden she will be doubly so as a wife.

Mr. Hill is well and favorably known in business circles as the foremen of the Free Press office, where his services and knowledge of details is a constant help to his employer.

The young folks will be at home to their friends at their home, three miles west of the city after the 15th of October.

If you have additional information for this page,
please contact the Unassigned Lands Coordinator.

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