Easton, not the village there now in Central Wisconsin, but the one I knew when I was a young growing up girl, from 1913 when I was born until I became a young woman. I have put off writing this story for several reasons, but foremost is my feeling that I can't make persons now have any basic understanding of the importance of that little "wide place in the road," and what it stood for, and what it did accomplish for the community back then. I'm sitting here, trying to let my mind's eye go back so long ago, to what the town really looked like and what it could do. During the school year I walked over a mile to the center of town to the school house.

I'll start at the corner where my two school mates Hesper and Arleigh Van Wie lived. We were all in the same grades all through our attendence at Easton School. Almost everyone living in Easton were the people who owned the businesses. But first there was a farm where the people lived on the north side of the road owned by Mr. and Mrs. Phillip Goodale. They didn't have any children so I didn't get to know them so well, but I sure remember the small orchard they had by the road, and how, into the fall, Mrs. Goodale would stand by the orchard's fence and hand the children going home from school each day a big apple. How good they tasted!

Moving on east a short way up the road was the one room school house I attended, then the garage that was built as cars became common. Then there was the grist mill along beside the house for the family of the man who operated it. Across from each other were the two general stores. Then the house and building belonging to the blacksmith. From there onto the factory where brick cheese was made and where the upper floor was a dance hall with a stage built in one end. A bit further east and across the road, was the house of a family that also contained the Easton Telephone Exchange, and the lady that handled it all.

I feel it will be difficult to explain this little town, yes. But I will try to help you see its big importance to these business people and the farmers they served.

The school was a one room building for the grades one through eight, with one teacher who with some help from the pupils, carried the wood, kept the fire, and did the cleaning, but also planned and made the curriculum, decorated with beautiful chalk borders the several big blackboards, helped us prepare all that material taken to the fair each fall, planned and practiced with us the several programs of plays, poems and songs for our education and for the the community to enjoy, and made holidays so special, including our share in the Memorial Day effort of three schools (where I got to see a few remaining Civil War veterans in their uniforms). The teacher usually boarded with a family living near the school. I wish I could bow low before each of these teachers and say, "Thank you," for the fine education they allowed me to obtain. The school was on the south bank of the creek that flowed from the mill pond. I remember the Annual School Meeting everybody went to including children being taken along. Lord, the talk and arguments! But things would be resolved by the people, and all for the children's best interest. But the way, parents bought all course books, and paper, and pen and ink, and pencils their children used.

I also remember the wonder of a real "bubbler" water fountain. The big jar that held the water was made of earthenware. Imagine! Pushing a lever and the water bubbling up so beautifually for our drinks. Of course the pupils pumped the water to fill the bubbler and carried out the overflow, but it was great! I remember that some of the teachers in the winter would put out a big kettle of food (it might be cocoa or soup, or whatever a parent had furnished in raw materials), so we could have something hot with our lunch. Contrary to popular belief about schools that long ago, we were not allowed to be spanked and religion was not allowed in any form. I really loved my school years there. I graduated when I was twelve years of age, and not being able to go onto high school with my school mates, I returned for a "post graduate" year. That year my teacher, Mildred Bidwell, found advanced books for me somewhat equivelent to those used in high school then. Wonder - did it all help me so many years later to earn my G.E.D. high school diploma with good grades? The school building is still there in Easton but now it has been made into a house.

Still going on east, there was a garage built after there were enough cars needing repair to warrant one. Bert Allen moved from his father's farm and brought his young family to live in a house on the same property. His work was well done and he also could repair many other things. It was where we took our battery to be re-charged to use on our Atwater Kent radio after radios came along. The battery charge didn't last very long so the radio would be mostly used when we all could listen. How my brother Edgar liked to stay up late trying to tune in the far away places, like sometimes California. Saturday night it was the Old Time Music Time, such as W.L.S. Chicago Barn Dance and the Grand Ole Opry from Nashville. Did the radio programs consist of disk jockies and records then? No! Only the real thing with the great jazz orchestras live from all the famous ballrooms. There was such a great variety of shows. Sure an amazement to a young girl who never got more than a few miles from home.

Moving a bit farther east from the garage and a little north was the Easton Grist Mill. Others had run it, but the one I remember was Max Witt. He and his family lived in a house near the mill. Especially in the colder months farmers brought their grains to be ground by him with their horses and wagons and sleds, often coming in for many miles around. I remember the many hitching posts where the teams were tied for the waiting period while the milling was being done. What an artist at his work Mr. Will was! He not only did the grinding for the farm animals, but also for the people's food. There never will be corn meal that tastes like the product he ground. Incidentally, there was quite a large grassy place near the mill, and perhaps once a year in the summer season, a traveling medicine show with a really pretty large tent would come there. Boy! Did the people turn out for that! Yes, they sold their medical wares, but do I remember those shows! I remember the people with these shows being very friendly.

Next east was one of the two general stores. I was told when Christine Witt ran the store my father hauled Mr. Witt's store stock from Kilbourn (now Wisconsin Dells) with horses. That was before my time. I remember this store being owned by Herman Kurth. What places these small stores were. The farmers came in to trade. Yes, literally trade their eggs for groceries or other articles sold there. What an experience it was going there with my mother. No pushing a cart around picking up the items desired. The store keeper waited on you. Inside the store there were two very long counters, one each side of the front door, with shelves behind them where the merchandise was lined up. Before going to do her 'trading', my mother would get her can for the kerosine for the lamps and lanterns, and a canning jar for the vinegar kept there in a barrel. Coffee was in bean form, and I got to watch him grind it in the wonderful coffee mill on the counter along with the spice cabinet there. It was made up of drawers for the bulk spices and the customers bought the desired spice by the ounce. They sold many types of items including yard goods! Later, when my sister Mary and her husband Norman Kurth ran the store for a time, she sold millinery to women. Believe me, hats were really important to the ladies then. They always wore a hat wherever they went. Before larger post offices were established, and before the mail was delivered by cars, Mrs. Herman Kurth ran the Easton Post Office out of this store.

Again, going on a short ways to the east there was a small house where the owner of a nearby blacksmith and his wife lived, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Eveleth. There he repaired wheels and harnesses and shod horses in the winter. He repaired and made other things too. I remember his making and adjusting as he grew, braces for my brother Edgar, who was somewhat crippled as a very small child by infantile paralysis, making it possible for him to walk quite well. Educated in this work? No, just a determination to do every task well.

Next on the east a dual building, cheese factory and dance hall. I remember people coming from Switzerland becoming the cheese makers there making their fantastic five pound brick cheeses. I cannot remember the names of the first ones, but do remember the Rosenbergers, Emil, and I believe John, who were brothers. Some farmers sold their cream by hauling it to Grand Marsh and shipping it to Milwaukee via railroad. They could then use the skim milk for calf and pig food. Others hauled their whole milk to this cheese factory to be made into this wonderful cheese, afterward hauling the whey home for animal food. Some of the cheese was sold locally from the factory, but lots of it was taken to Adams to go out on the train to places that wanted this gourmet food. The upstairs floor was a dance hall with a stage built in one end and where plays, etc. would be performed. Oh yes! Show biz went on with grown ups learning three act plays and performing them for the crowd.

Going on a little farther east and crossing the road was a house where the Charles Powers family lived. In her home Mrs. Powers operated the telephone exchange. In those days of hand wrung wall phones, if you wished to call on any line other than your own you had to ring the operator and she would ring for you. There could be several people on each party line. Each patron had a combination of short and long rings to memorize and listen for. Your party line rings came into all the homes. Used to be lots of "rubber necking" as people wanted to hear what's happening. Long distance calls were rare but when they occurred they had to be relayed by the operators along the line, operator to operator, all done by ringing by hand. What a job they did! Hard to imagine now. Moving a bit further west on this same road and past a few houses we come to the second general store owned by Thomas Colby, and run by his family. Their house was attached to the store. It was across the road from the Kurth's store and was stocked in much the same way, except there was an attached room where they sold men's, women's and children's shoes.

There is one last place I would like to write about, but not because it was a business. It was a house set in a large yard with so many beautiful trees and shrubs, especially the huge clumps of old fashioned roses. But I remember even more the dear people who lived there. Aunt Eun (Eunice) and Uncle Jim Bidwell. Relatives? No! But they were Aunt and Uncle to everyone (he was a Civil War veteran), and they lived with such grace and love. Everyone visited them, and the community's children were always given a gorgeous big sour cream sugar cookie with seeded raisins placed on top. I know these people enriched my young life.

I remember some things were sold house to house from horse drawn wagons by peddlers. Practically everything we ate was produced at home, but these salesmen sold us apples and in the winter cut up meats. Probably the most exciting was when the American Indian people came by selling cranberries they had harvested from the river. My folks would buy quite a few and canned them. In the Spring someone would come through to buy old metal, maybe a gunny bag full or two would be the "junk" for all year. I haven't written about the fishing in Easton pond, created by the dammed up creek to give power for the grist mill. That water was so clear and cold and pure being spring-fed just a way up the road. And it produced such a supply of fish almost impossible to fish down, and it was really heavily fished! It contained several kinds of fish, including really large pickerel.

A few items - religion in Easton was scarce. The women had Ladies Aid, and meetings were held in their homes. What dinners! There was Sunday school on the summer Sundays in the school house. Maybe once a year or so (I don't know how often), a Rev. Janish and a Rev. Geanes, walking evangelists, would hold rousing meetings in the school house for a few nights. Also a Rev. Barker of Adams sometimes held services and also attended Ladies Aid on occasion. People, both men and women, did much exchanging work, both in fields and cooking for workers and helping out during illness. There was a "potato world," then so large there was a potato warehouse near the railroad tracks in Grand Marsh. So many were raised that there would be a two week potato picking vacation at school when the children would pick up the potatoes as the elders hand dug them. I saw the beginning of Model T Ford cars for a rural community, including one Stanley Steamer. There were just a few tractors. My father had a Fordson. He mostly used it to power machinery such as the silo filler. Of course there was gossip and people not speaking then as now. But there was a real caring as I have indicated earlier. I'm glad I grew up in the Easton Community. All ill feelings were put aside where there was need. And children were a really viable part of it all.

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p.s. I may have made some memory errors, but have truly tried to remember as clearly as I can, such a long time ago, when I was young.

                                                                                                                                                     Maude Colburn, 1987