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Max Yoho, Author and Poet

Max born 1934 is a descendant of Jacob Yoho (1765 - 1851) and a member of one of the few Western U.S.Yoho Clans. He and his wife Carol live in Kansas. Carol Martin Yoho is an educator and computer artist and is presently a faculty member in the Art Department at Washburn University of Topeka Kansas.

The following Bio of Max comes from the New Work's Review

Max Yoho is a lifelong Kansan. Born in 1934, he spent his barefoot summers in Colony, explored the banks of the Missouri River at Atchison, and cruised the streets of Topeka in his 1933 Auburn sedan.

Max was soon a father and working full-time as a machinist. He was always a reader and interested in writing, but it was 1958 before he found time to enroll in an evening Freshman Comp class at Washburn University. His Comp teacher recognized his talents, and Max was recruited as Feature Writer for The Review, the student newspaper—entertaining students with his highly personalized views on local, regional, and national issues.

Max got serious about writing after he became a widower in the late 1980s. He honed his writing skills by writing poetry, essays, memoirs and short stories at "A Table for Eight," a Topeka area writers' group. When singing or speaking in public, Max found an appreciative audience any time he quoted his own writing.

After retiring in 1992, Max developed what had started as a short story into his first novel, The Revival . This humorous work was published in 2001 and won the 2002 J. Donald Coffin Memorial Book Award of the Kansas Authors Club. Word spread quickly among readers that this coming of age story of eleven-year-old Edwin J. Stamford was sidesplitting fun.

Max's second novel, Tales from Comanche County , 2002, was developed from characters Max concocted for a millennium celebration article he'd written for the Topeka Capital-Journal .

In Felicia, These Fish Are Delicious , 2004, Max served up a feast of poems, essays and short stories. Some work is funny—some starkly serious. This work was chosen as one of "2004 Ten top Reads" by Nancy Mehl of the Wichita Eagle .

Short Stories by Max Yoho



The Last Alligator in Hoisington


Water Tower Words

The Soup Strainer

There is prose excerpts linked from his on-line interview Also, some of Max's poems have been published on-line by the :Kansas State Library

If any family member enjoy the work enough to consider owning the books, they can read about them on the web site Dancing Goat Press , order them from any bookstore, or buy them through Amazon.com

Also visit Max and Carol's family web page with lots of photos by Carol and Carol's own web page

E-mail Max or E-mail Carol

Indian Troubles - Early Reminiscences of Baker and Yoho Families

NOTE: This is an article from History of Panhandle by Newton, Nichols and Spankle published in 1887

Col Samuel P. Baker, from whom these facts were ascertained lives near Benwood, Union district. He is the second son of Henry Baker, and was born in the year 1898. In the year 1825 he married Caroline, oldest daughter of Samuel Tomlinson.

He now lives on a part of the 600 acre tract of land formaerly owned by Thomlinson, and is now in his eighty first year, and is the oldest native born citizen of Marshall County. He is a very intelligent old gentleman and what he relates is authentic. The following was written nearly vetbatim:

John Baker my grandfather, was a prussian, and he came to the U.S. in the year 1755. He landed at Philadelphia, where he married a german lady by the name of Elizabeth Sullivan, in the year 1760. Immediately after his marriage he moved to the Shenandoah Valley, Virginia, where in the year 1763, Henry Baker, my father was born.

In the year 1767 he emigrated from there to Dunkard Creek, Greene Co. PA., and settled among the Indians, four tribes of whom were then living in peace with the whites, viz: The Delawares, the Wyandota, the Swanees (sic) and the Mingoes. He remained there until the breaking out of Dunmore's War, when he took refuge with his family in what was then called Redstone Old Fort, now Brownsville, PA.

In the year 1781, he went to where Washington, PA., now stands, then known as Catfish Camp. About this time the country about there was very much alarmed, and the people were on the look out for the Indians, who were reported to have crossed the river near Holliday's Cove, and were expected to make inroads upon the settlements.

An express was sent to Wheeling Fort to give the alarm concerning it. The partey consisted of Henry Baker, my father (then 18 years of age), Henry Yoho and Peter Starnater. They traveled in safety until they came to the Narrows, on Wheeling Creek, near where Col. Woods lived and died. Here they were ambushed by a party of Indians.

Starnater shot the Indian nearest him and in return he and his horse were immediately killed. Yoho's horse was shot and fell but arising almost immediately it dashed through the Indians, carrying Yoho away in safety to Wheeling Fort. Baker's horse was shot but ran some hundred yards when it fell on him. Extricating himself as soon as possible, and throwing away his arms to lighten himself, he ran for about a quarter of a mile, when, seeing a very large red skin approaching him directly in front with a pistol in one hand and a tomahawk in the other, he saw that escape was impossible and stopped. He said the Indian took him by the hair of his head and shook him till he almost thought he would shake his head off telling him at the same time in good English......YOU ARE A PRISONER.

Baker was taken back to the body of Indians, among whom was a brother of the one killed by Starnater. This Indian was raving mad, and was determined to kill Baker in revenge for the death of his brother, but was prevented from doing so by the Chief. They came rapidly down this ridge where I live, no doubt thinking they would be pursued. They struck the river at Kate's Rock, where they found several canoes filled with Indians, who seemed to be waiting for them. From this point, after rowing a short distance down the river, they left the stream, and going back of the Grave Creek flats, they crossed the creek near where the water station now is and struck the river again at the lower end of the Round Bottom. Here they crossed the river and encamped for the night at the head of Captina Island. All this time he carried his own and Starnater's and the dead Indian's rifles strapped to his back. He was tied to a sapling and passed the night without food.

They started early next morning and traveled three days and three nights without stopping to camp, or with scarcely anything to eat. At the end of this time they arrived at Chillicothe. Here, thinking they were out of danger of pursuit, they traveled more leisurely and killing some deer, they had plenty to eat. arriving at Sandusky, they found a band of at least three hundred warriers, and there were nine other men from Kentucky as prisoners.

They were all compelled to run the gauntlet. My father being young and active ran it easily, which so enraged a young Indian that he knocked him down with his club after he ahd entered the house. He witnessed the burning of the nine Kentuckians, one being burned each day, all the time being warned that his fate was to the the same as theirs.

On the tenth day he was ordered to be taken out and tied to the stake by an old Indian. He resisted somewhat, and tried to parley with them, but on starting out toward the stake he saw a horseman rapidly approaching. When th horseman came up he saw a man dressed in the uniform of a British Officer. He immediately ran to the man. He told him that the Indians were about to burn him and he wanted him to save him.

He found out the man to be, Simon Girty, who, on finding who Baker was and where he was from, pleaded with the Indians for two hours to spare his life, and finally succeeded. My father always supposed that Girty anticipated making an attack on Wheeling and expected him to be useful as a guide, for he took him aside and asked him all manner of questions concerning Wheeling and vicinity.

Through the interposition of Girty he was set to Detroit and reported to the Governor. He was then set at Liberty. Hiring himself to an Indian trader, he remained with him some time, trading with the Indians.

At length he started with two others for Virginia, and after a tedious march, getting lost at one time for near 3 weeks, they arrived at the point where Bridgeport now stands. Some of the inhabitants of Wheeling were on that side of the river, making sugar and selling it. They supposed them to be Indians and fled to the fort and gave the alarm. Finally, when the inhabitants found out who they were, they welcomed them within its walls. Baker found that during his absence his father (John) had moved to Round bottom. When summer opened they all went to Fort Tomlinson.

In 1785, Henry Baker married Elizabeth Parr, daughter of Nathan another famous pioneer who lived at Grave creek Flats (now Moundsville).(Parr's Run is named for Nathan). The union resulted in nine children, Viz, John, Stephen, Jacob, Samuel, Henry, James, Jackson and two daughters Mary and Rebecca. After his marriage he settled at Fort Tomlinson, where he remained until Wayne's treaty in 1891, when he moved to Round Bottom. Here he lived until some time in the thirties when he moved to Little Captina, Belmont Co. Ohio. There he died at an advanced age.

John Baker, Henry's father was a Captain in the Revoutuion and settled to Round Bottom Virginia (now WV). He built what was long known as Baker's Station where he spent the remainder of his his life.

Besides Henry, John Baker had five additional children: Martin, George, John and two twin daughters, Catherine and Margaret who married Henry and Peter Yoho. John the youngest was killed at the battle of little Captina. Martin was one of the first settlers in Belmont Co. Ohio. George settled on Fish Creek, Marshall Co. Va near Henry and Peter Yoho.

More About Henry Yoho

The following account is from Valerie Kramer

I received the book "Family Research in Monroe County Ohio" Vol 1 by C. Fedorchak which has several sections on Yoho's including the following from pages 302-313:

Henry Yoho applied for a (Revolutionary War) pension from Monogalia Co. Va. when he was 82 years old, but his brother Peter never applied for one. However, both Henry and Peter Yoho show up on the First Battalion, Washington Co. Militia recruited in Whiteley, Greene, and Dunkard Townships in what is now Greene Co., Pa. in 1782. (Ref. Pa. Archives, Series VI, Vol. 2, pp. 18-19, pp. 271).

I sent for the pension file of Henry Yoho and found it interesting reading (File No. S-7996). Henry was placed on the roll of the Wheeling Agency at the rate of Forty Dollars per annum under the law of 7 June 1832. His application reveals that he was born in Virginia about 18 miles from Winchester. He did not recollect the year, but stated he was 85 years old.

He said his father's family moved to Western Virginia when he was 11 years old and he resided there ever since. He first served in the Revolution in a company commanded by Lt. Samuel singles who was stationed on Whitely Creek, now in Monongalia Co. at the house of a settler named Duncan. The Company was composed of 18 men, some drafted, although he had volunteered. They marched to Garrett's Fort on Whiteley Creek and remained there for about a month. The next year he volunteered under Capt. Cross, and while his Company was at Pittsburgh, they learned of the massacre of Capt. fourman and a quarter of his Company at Grave Creek Narrows 10 miles below Wheeling. They marched there and buried 22 of Captain Fourman's Company and then returned to Wheeling.

This massacre is told of in detail in some of the histories of that period and area. If anyone wants to know more about it, I refer him to History of Belmont and Jefferson Counties - Caldwell, 1880, Page 104.

Soon after the siege of Fort Henry in 1776, a Company of Militia under the command of Capt Foreman came from east of the Alleghenies to take charge of the fort at Wheeling and for the protection of settlements in that vicinity. On the 26th of Sept. Capt. foreman and 45 men started in search of marauding Indians and marched down the river about 12 miles below Wheeling and encamped. Here, through ignorance of the methods and practices of Indian warfare, and a foolish perversity in rejecting the prudent counsel of one of the settlers named Lynn, who accompanied him as a spy, his command was ambushed and almost destroyed. Twenty one of his men were killed outright and but for the judgement, skill and bravery of John Lynn, the whole party would have been completely annihilated. Among the slain were the unfortunate Capt Foreman and tow of his sons. This John Lynn was a celebrated Indian spy, who also later warned the settlers at the siege of Fort henry in the first of Sept 1782.

Henry Yoho also served in Capt John Whetzel's Company of spies in 1777 reconnoitering between Whitely Creek and the Ohio river near Wheeling, thence to Middle Island, thence by way of Fish and Fishing Creeks to Whitely again. This is in the present day Ohio and monongalia Counties in West Va.

Henry volunteered again the next year under Capt Cross, attached to the command o Col John Evans Va. Militia, and joined in the McIntosh Campaign and served at Fort McIntosh and Lawrence on the Tuscarawas River. (This latter place was Fort Laurens near Bolivar, Ohio and I have written of that campaign before, as my ancestor, James Foracre served there). Henry was on this tour 6 months and returned home about Christmas, so obviously was not a member of the Company which was besieged that winter by Indians at Fort Laurens.

About July, 1779, Henry again volunteered under Lt. Jacob Cline in a Va. Militia Regiment to go on an expedition against the Indians under General Clark. he went with about 300 regulars and 300 militia from Redstone Fort (now Brownsville, PA) in keel boats along with Lewis Whetzel. He and Whetzel went as spies before the troops departed. He and Whetzel and others, during the Spring and summer of 1780 spied the surrounding country. He was discharged in the Fall after about 18 months service.

During 1781 Henry was stationed at Masons Fort on Buffalo Creek now in Brooke Co. WV and left there in company with Henry Baker and Peter Stanater on horseback. In passing a very narrow path, Stanater was shot with four balls, and Baker and he wheeled their horses and seven Indans faced them and fired, but he managed to escape.

Peter Haught, also of Monogalia Co. made an affidavit in support of Henry Yoho's application as did Stephen Gapen, so probably Gapen wa a soldier too. Peter haught also has descendants who lived in Monroe Co.

Henry Yoho according to this record, was a resident of Monongalia Co. Va in 1832 and on the 17th of June, 1835, he was a resident of Tyler Co. Va. stating that he had lived there for 18 months, having moved from Monongalia Co.

Since Peter yoho did not make application for a pension, it is difficult to resonstruct his activity in the revolution, but since both Henry and Peter Yoho appear on a roll of Capt Guthery in 1782, in all probability Peter's service was in the same general area as above, and he too was engaged in fighting the Indians and spying out their movements and activities.


Valerie Kramer
The Downtown Fun Zone
832 Hwy 101, Box 49
Port Orford, OR 97465
E-mail: Valerie@mydfz.com


Visiting Grandparents by LeMoyne Coffield

EDITOR'S NOTE: The story below was sent in by Richard L. Yoho who is a cousin to LeMoyne Coffield....LeMoyne Coffield (now 82) is the son of Dr. Albert Lee Coffield and Susan Austie Yoho.....Susan is daughter of Timothy A. Yoho (1864- 1937) who is "Grandpa" in the account. Grandma was Isabelle Gatts Yoho (1886-1952) ...This account was also published in "Yoho Family In America" by Richard Henthorn

I found LeMoyne's story fascinating since it brought back memories of my own fathers (Herb Yoho) stories of the other Timothy Yoho (1834-1912). I am the "namesake" of this Timothy Yoho.....My dad also told about white and red corncobs used in the outhouse and the names of Timothy's Mules, not oxen described in LeMoyne's story. I never got tired of hearning my dad's stories and wonder if our kids will have such fond memories of us..........

  I (LeMoyne) remember a great deal of my childhood and coming to visit Grandma and Grandpa Yoho.  I was born on the 19th Nov. 1923 on Coffield Ridge.  Our house was the first house off Rt. 89 and the present home of Will and Elsie Tuttle not far from the Antioch Church. Dad was the son of Robert Coffield and his mother was Nancy Virginia

Terrell and I have Yoho blood from "both sides", like Ruth, Sullivan and many others in Wetzel and Marshall County.  Because of lack of transportation, other than by horse or buggy, it was difficult to get out in the world and meet others than those with a little Yoho in their blood. Dad started dating Mom while he was in medical school in Cincinnati and came home in the summer to work on his Dad's farm and in the booming gas and oil fields to earn money for his returning to school in the fall.  He would always end up in the evenings at Timothy Yoho's to see Sue. 

I've heard him tell about his family working as hard and fast as they could and then going to Tim Yoho's and brag about how much work the Coffield's had done.  He found out the Yoho's had out done them; always more loads of hay, more acres of corn hoed, etc.  Mom and Dad often talked about their dating, going to church, the visiting
ministers at Sloan's, the "socials", picnics and Mom being in demand to play (organ) at the different churches in the area. 

Dad graduated in 1911 and they were married in 1914.  Dad practiced as a country doctor, usually traveling by horseback and later by Model-T (Ford) throughout Wetzel and Marshall County.  Mom and Dad lived at Lynn Camp, Silver Hill, Antioch, and then trained at North Wheeling Hospital for a year before going to New Martinsville to live and practice medicine and surgery.

Terrell was born in 1917 at Silver Hill and I was born at Antioch in 1923.  Terrell went to Antioch School for 4 years with Thelma Allen Fox as the teacher of all 8 grades.  She expected her students to know the multiplication table (through the twelve's) by the time they finished the 8 grades.  Thelma told me on several occasions that Terrell had mastered this in his first year. Personally, I still haven't accomplished that.

After moving to New Martinsville and enrolled in school, I would usually spend 2 to 4 weeks at Grandma Belle's, Grandpa Tim, and Uncle Okey in the summer months.  Often the family would visit at other times if the
weather would permit.  In the winter the dirt roads would be almost impassable because of the mud, rain, ice and snow.  When I would visit in the summer I would sometimes visit with Uncle Joe's so as to play with L.V. and Eileen. 

When I was at Grandma's, L.V. would usually also stay at her "place."  We had great times but as I look back wasn't of
much help on the farm.  Grandpa expected us to pitch in on the chores but Grandma was always too soft with us.  She was a wonderful lady; not nearly as stern as Grandpa and spent lots of time with us even though she had little free time till the sun went down.  She'd often pack a sack lunch and take us for a picnic under one of the large shade trees
on the hill or down into the cool woods.  She did require us to do some chores in the house and kitchen but accompanied us; when we fed the chickens, gathered the eggs, fetched the cows, milked the cows, separated the milk, and rounded up the turkey hen and little biddies when there was a threatening rain storm.  Grandma would never let the turkeys be out in a storm since the old mother hen would sit down and let the little ones get under her wings.  Often times, the little ones
would smother or drown. 

Grandpa and Okey would take us to the garden, hay or cornfield, but as expected playing was much more fun than
working.  We often would slip away and go to the "run" to catch minnows, take our hoes and dig out groundhog holes, swing on grapevines and sit under the shade trees while they worked.  We were always good about
going back to the house and filling the gallon jug with cool and freshly drawn well water but on returning was warm for the hot and hard working farm hands.  We always made sure that we had plenty of the cool water before taking the jug back to the field.  They often permitted us to ride the horses and to break calves, and work them as oxen.  The names
of the oxen were usually "Buck and Berry"; another favorite set of names for oxen was "Ben and Jerry".  The work with the oxen was never productive but more in the way of pulling us around on a sled, hauling a little wood or rocks.  The sleds we used were always homemade by L.V. and me, with the help of Uncle Okey, and patterned after the larger farm
sleds of Grandpa's.

Grandpa seem to always have "Nellie" which was his sorrel  (reddish brown) riding horse. He made good use of her on the farm, going to visit in the neighborhood, going to Otis "Oat" Bakers Store at the Marshall-Wetzel county line and to Winfield "Winn" Yoho's Country Store at Fairview.

Grandpa was a "Good Democrat" and always involved in political campaigns and elections.  I remember him taking me to register voters; I rode behind him on Nellie and would go throughout the area and down each lane
to every possible democrat voter.  He told me about the "two party system" and how it took both Democrats and Republicans for a democracy. He went on to say that each party had their best people running for office but the Democrats were superior and should always vote a straight ticket.  I've never forgotten what Grandpa said but haven't always done it.  I remember having pictures or campaign placards in their front windows of F.D.R (President), Rush Holt (Governor) and M.M. Neely (U.S. Senator).  One of his grandchildren was named Delano Holt Yoho after the
President and Governor.  Delano turned out to be a great guy and now lives in Columbus, Ohio.

  I remember when their was no electricity, no radios, no hot or cold running water, no indoor plumbing, few screens on the doors or windows, no iceboxes or refrigerators, etc., etc.  They did have natural gas which was free and produced on Great Grandpa Henry's farm and for decades had a bright, 24 hour flame in the side yard providing lots of light throughout the night.  They had a cistern, which was another source of water on the farm.  Rainwater was collected from the house
roof, down the drain spouts into a large underground storage tank, which was covered with a large flat rock. You got your water by a hand pump and, as a child would have to chin your self on the handle to get a flow of water into the pail or wash tub; cistern water was not for drinking but used mainly in the kitchen for dishwashing, laundry and bathing.  It
was soft and was especially good for lathering up in bathing and washing hair.  There always seemed to be a water shortage in the cisterns and drinking well during the summer months and never much wasting except for a few water fights between the kids.  This was done by not drinking all the water you had dipped into the large tin cup, and throwing it on your friendly foe. 

The "outhouse" was not too far from the back door, down over the hill, shielded from site and shaded by a small peach tree.  Grandpa built the outhouse from wide vertical boards; a flat sloped roof covered with tarpaper and the door with a quarter moon cut in it.  Later, in the early 1930's; the government, through F.D.R. and the W.P.A., "privies"
were built at no cost to the farmer.  In the depression years the W.P.A. did this to provide work for unemployed carpenters and labors.  I don't think Grandpa ever had a government built one but preferred his homemade
one even though not very fancy.  However, he did have a two holler; one for adults and one for kids. 

Grandma showed real love and consideration for the grandchildren by taking the brim from an old felt hat and lining
the hole; this was great particularly in cold weather.  They always had an old Sears (or Ward's) catalog hanging or laying near by.  This was a good time to do some dreaming and imaginary shopping as you leafed through the "wish book".  The last sheets torn from the catalog were always the least absorbent, the slick ones.  There was a bushel basket
of red and white corncobs sitting on the floor for good reason.  The red ones were the first to be used and a follow up white, maybe back to the red-red-red--white.  That is the origin of the expression, "rough as a cob".  The "outhouse" had large cracks between the boards, which served as ventilation and also visibility in the event some one was hot footing
it down to the "jon".  In that event you could sing or yell out to ward them off.  There was some security, in that there was always a propeller type wooden door latch, to keep the wind from blowing the door open and permitting visibility to the outsiders.  There always seemed to be wasp nest in the "jon" and with your pants down kept you a little uneasy.

I well remember the old telephone party line in the country, particularly at Grandpa's.  He had two telephones, one of them in the area telephone system and one that was a private line to Uncle Tom's and to Grandpa Henry's.  On the community line everyone had a special ring of different number and sequence of long and short rings but many on the
line would "listen in" and get the gossip.  Uncle Tom's ring was 2 longs ----  ---- and 1 short -.   Dad and Mom's was -----   -  -.   Dad, Mom, Terrell and myself continued to use this as a family call.  When Terrell and I were kids and living in New Martinsville they would call us from play, by blowing the car horn with ----  -  - 's.  I often would let Terrell know when we would get back home late at night by a long and two shorts as we passed 764 Maple.  When calling between Grandpa's and our house on Martin Avenue we would have to go through "Central", the telephone operator at Maude.  Maude is about 15 minutes from N.M., on Route 7, and named after Miss Maude Suter.  According to both Mom and
Dad she was an "old flame" of Dads and according to Dad could have been my mother.  I'm not really sure what that meant.

Gaslights, kerosene lamps and lanterns served them well; it assured them of getting to bed early so as to get up with the chickens and begin the next days work.  All the farm and country folks worked from dawn to dusk, took advantage of the daylight to work, the night to sleep, indoor work on rainy days and "make hay when it would shine."
Breakfast was always ham, bacon, eggs, fried potatoes, toast from the oven, apple butter or jelly and milk.  I remember on one occasion, on a late summer evening, a huckster came by selling fresh fish; Grandpa took them hook, line and sinker.  Since there was no refrigeration and fear of the fish spoiling we had them for breakfast.  That was the only time
I've had a fish breakfast.  They always called the morning meal, breakfast, the noon meal, dinner and the evening supper.  Between meal and evening snacks were usually apples (never oranges, bananas or other store bought fruits), jelly sandwiches were available and usually home baked bread or left over biscuits which Grandma made practically every
day.  When available we might have All Bran with sugar and milk as a bedtime snack.  In those days, for some reason, the likelihood of the having worms in the cereal was pretty good and they looked much like the bran, with visibility not good from the gas lights, I learned to eat Corn Flakes and still prefer them.

The under house cellar was always cool, and damp where the butter, milk, cream, cheese, cured meat, apples and potatoes were kept during all seasons.  The apples and potatoes were usually kept in large slatted wooden bins.  There were never lights in the cellar but you could see by leaving the door open; at night you needed a kerosene lantern.  Grandma usually kept an old tattered gunnysack on the floor as a throw rug because the floor was always wet and slick. Warshboards, warsh tubs, homemade soap, stove heated cistern water, a clothesline and "elbow grease" kept the clothes clean.  Whites weren't a favorite color on the farm.  Taking a bath in a galvanized warsh tub in the kitchen wasn't bad but the water was pretty murky when you tipped it off the back porch.

The floors were all local hard wood and painted with a rust red, which probably was home mixed from linseed oil, iron oxide powder and some turpentine.  There were several throw rugs throughout the house but only the parlor had a 9x12 wool rug, which Grandma swept, after sprinkling it with coarse salt to settle the dust before taking the broom to it.  She did have a Bissell but preferred the broom and mop.  Grandma had a pump organ in the parlor, which she and only daughter (Susan) played but the grandchildren had pumped it so hard the bellows were broken and no doubt more peaceful and was never fixed. 

The only Christmas tree that I remember at Grandmas was one from the woods and not too shapely but beautifully decorated with strung popcorn, some lead icicles and clumps of cotton from her quilting supplies.  Later L.V. and I took the lead icicles and rolled them up into small hard balls and shot them with our homemade slingshots, we ate the popcorn and the cotton went back into the quilting drawer. 

Lawn mowers were not available but the yard was always well kept considering the times and other things of higher priority.  The lawn was kept by turning the sheep in the yard, using the sickle and the help of Dan Long.  Dan was an elderly blind man who stayed at Grandpa's for several years; he did have a room in the house, ate at the family dinner table but usually slept in the haymow during the summer months. For his "keep" he did a few chores "about the house" and took on the job of caring for the yard.  His method was to sit down in the yard, pull or break off grass within his reach, stack it and scoot to another spot and in time have the yard hand trimmed.  I hate to mention it, but on occasions; L.V. and I would sneak up and move his cane out of reach. He would search for it and would be visually (by us) and audibly (by him) upset-"shame on us."

As I recall, the mail and Moundsville Echo, were delivered to the roadside mailbox five days a week.  In the beginning and probably into the 1930's the mailman would travel by horseback or horse and buggy, particularly during the winter months with dirt roads being muddy and rutted out.  I remember Mr. Miller, from Woodlands, was one of the
faithful mail carrier.    

I would on occasions go to Uncle Tom's and Uncle Joe's tovisit.  At Uncle Tom's I would usually get a treat of some pie or a jelly sandwich from Aunt Ella.  Occasionally, would get a ride on "Shannon", a big gray horse of Uncle Tom's.  I remember going to their house at wheat "thrashin' time" when the thra (e) shing crew would go through the community, from  farm, to farm, the neighbors would move along to help each other.  There probably were 15 or 20 men, and 3 or 4
women prepared the thrashers meal.  Mutton (sheep-not leg of lamb) was favorite meat for this occasion but certainly not mine.  There were plenty of side dishes and no one got up from the table without more than enough.  I don't remember at Aunt Ella's, but on similar occasions at Grandma's, with few screen doors and windows she would turn the dishes
upside down to keep the flies off the "set table". 

Once the food was served, she would quietly move around the table "shooing the flies" with a large freshly broken peach branch from the tree near the kitchen door. At Uncle Joe's they had electric lights, which was the first electricity
in that neck of the woods; as I recall, this would have been in about 1930.  Home electricity was made by a gasoline driven Delco generator; it was housed in a tiny building near but far enough from the house so as not to be a fire hazard.  Fires on the farm were always a great fear without fire fighting equipment and having to go with a bucket brigade
and very little available water.  In Uncle Joe"s "shed" (small barn) owned previously by Grandma Belle's father, Thomas Gatts, there was old dried tobacco leaves strung up on the walls.  It had been grown, cut, cured and no doubt used for chewing and making of cigars by Grandpa Gatts.   His son in law, Tim Yoho regularly chewed Bloch Brothers Mail
Pouch.  Tim Yoho's grandson has also been known to take a pinch of Mail Pouch.  It was not unusual in the 20's and 30's to see women and children rubbing snuff and/or smoking corncob pipes.  To my knowledge there were never any of my grandmothers, great-grandmothers or Aunts that imbibed in this un-lady like activity.  Our family has also been
fortunate in not having many that indulged in significant alcohol use.

Mom would tell of the big snows' they'd have when she was a child and the difficulty that they presented in the children getting to school.  The Centennial School was located about a quarter of a mile down the road from Grandpa Tim's, and her Grandfather Henry lived up the road about a quarter of a mile.  On big snow days, her grandfather (Henry Yoho) would get up before daylight and drive four or so horses from his house down by Grandpa Tim's to the schoolhouse and back.  He then would get out eight or ten cows and drive them to the schoolhouse to further break the path.  He would follow this up with a flock of sheep, with lots of little feet, would pack down the path so the kids could walk through the deep snow and drifts without much difficulty.  If it would continue to snow during the day Grandpa Henry Yoho would have the animals back on the road to keep it passable for the children.    

Grandpa Yoho had a stroke (cerebrovascular accident) and was partially paralyzed--he later died in 1937.  Grandma and Uncle Okey stayed on the farm but after Uncle Joe moved to Moundsville they went to stay with them on Morton Avenue.   Okey was a wonderful uncle, he was a WWI machineguner, a farmer, teacher, never married, interested in all sports and an avid baseball fan.  He played on local baseball teams and as kids was always ready to pitch or bat with us.  He was a great admirer of Dizzy Dean both as a player and baseball announcer. 

Grandma died in 1952 following a stroke and Uncle Okey died in 1954 of complications multiple sclerosis.  Grandpa, Grandma, Uncle Okey, Uncle Joe and Aunt Pearl are all buried at Greenlawn Memorial Park at New Martinsville.  Great-grandpa Henry Yoho, his wife Susan Elizabeth Kelly, some of their children, Lawrence Cozart, and (later his wife Ruth) are buried on a knoll at the Yoho Cemetery on Rines Ridge, between Ruth's and the "Old Tim Yoho farm".  To my recollection the only possession, from the Yoho's, is the old chest given to me by Uncle Joe Yoho.  Ruth has promised Bob the large framed picture of Henry and Susan Elizabeth Yoho, which has hung in her living room since the 1800's


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