Atchison's Day Nursery - 1914

 

In the late 19^th and early 20^th century, Atchison had a network of individuals of means that offered a helping hand to those that were not as fortunate. One program that was created to help families with limited income was a short lived day nursery in 1914 that gave poor mothers an opportunity to elevate their circumstances. One of these mothers was Ivy Dell McNemee, daughter of Dr. Jesse F. Marshall, a respected Atchison doctor. 

 

Ivy Dell & Arthur on their wedding day (right)

 

Ivy Dell married Arthur McNemee at the age of 18. In 1907, they had a daughter, Inez and in 1910 a daughter, Dorothy. Arthur was a drinker, and he did not treat his family well while he was under the influence. Arthur employed at Great Western Junk Company, but spent most every paycheck on liquor.

On the night of November 10, 1912. The weather was unseasonably warm and Arthur had been drinking in “East Atchison.” Missouri never implemented its own state wide prohibition, and so East Atchison had long been a place to gain access to booze. When it was time to go home, though in his impaired state Arthur missed his grip, falling, mangled by the train. Ivy Dell, pregnant with their third child, was at home with her two girls asleep in a bed in one of the three small rooms of their house when the authorities arrived to notify her of the accident. As she listened to the news, a beer wagon belonging to local saloon of Dilgert and Forbriger, drove up to front door and a delivery man staggered up the walk with a case of beer. Distraught at the sight, Ivy Dell called out, “Poor Artie, poor Artie.... It is just this stuff that brought this terrible accident to us.” Her brother quickly intervened and turned the man away.  

 

Arthur lost an arm and a leg in his railroad accident, causing him to be treated at St. Francis Hospital during a lengthy stay. Ivy Dell was unable to visit because of her pregnant condition. Dr. Charles Robinson, the county health officer checked on the family and found them in great need. The McNemees had not been in a great financial situation before, and now they were practically destitute. In addition, the weather had suddenly dropped from balmy temps to the frigid weather of winter. And the McNemees were not ready. The girls didn’t even have shoes to wear. Ivy’s brother Jesse offered financial support, but could not support his sister’s family as well as his own for long. Dr. Robinson reported to the local newspaper the need of the family and others in the community. The citizens of Atchison were very sympathetic to the poor among them and rallied to help Ivy Dell and her children, providing enough clothes for the winter.

Ivy Dell ca. 1920

 

As her due date approached, concerns for a successful delivery of her baby surely mounted. Miss Jennie Harding, a veteran nurse who had rooms in the Harwi building, donated her services and delivered Ivy Dell’s daughter, Mae at the McNemee home on January 15^th. Miss Jennie would have known Ivy Dell’s father, and Florence Harwi was one of the ladies who would assist in the success of the future day nursery. 

Even when Arthur was released from the hospital, his ability to work would be liminted, and in November 1913, the plight of the McNemees and others like them prompted a surge of interest in “upbuilding” of Atchison. Assisting families in pulling themselves out of unfortunate circumstances. One of the ideas proposed was for a day nursery that would watch children while their mothers worked. Interested mothers were encouraged to leave their names with Mrs. Willis J. Bailey or at the Champion office.

 

The nursery was established to be operated by a board, with assistance by the welfare board of the Atchison Women’s Civic Club. President was Lucy Ingalls (Mrs. Sheffield Ingalls); 1^st Vice President, Ida Bailey (wife of former governor Willis J. Bailey); 2^nd Vice President, Ada Dysinger (Mrs. Holmes Dysinger); Treasurer, Anna Collett (Mrs. W. B. Collett); and Secretary, Miss. Helen Hackney. The board, while steering the project, also provided financial assistance for it. 

Ida Bailey from Kansas 1st Families at Home, 1993

The position of matron of the nursery was offered to Miss Emma Ackley at a rate $30 per month. Miss Ackley was not just any woman chosen to fill the position, however, she was in need of assistance herself. Emma’s father had died in 1882 leaving her and her mother, Lucy, at home without a sole breadwinner. Miss. Ackley, herself, was in poor health, suffering from bouts of neuralgia. Her episodes kept her from taking many working positions outside of the home for long periods, although she did try. Instead, she sought work that she could do at home, anything from typing to embroidery, to selling dolls at the local Corn Carnival. 

 

The nursery was to be housed at the Ackley residence at 613 Santa Fe. Committees were charged with seeking out necessities for nursery, lunches for children, and industrial committee. Lucy Ingalls promoted the nursery to the community. Not soliciting businesses for funding but asking that any monies be given as free will donations. Community members gave items to be used at the nursery: a sign to swing welcomingly in front of Ackley home, supplies for a sand pile, wire fencing which to separate the playground from the rest of yard, and towels.

 

After plans were made, the day nursery was set to open in mid-April. To entice local women to utilize the service, the board celebrated with an Easter-themed open house, complete with gifts for the children and entertainment for the mothers. Rates for the nursery were geared toward making the service accessible toward poor mothers, but the service was also made available to other mothers in the surrounding area. Working mothers would pay 3 cents a day; farmers’ wives could leave their children for a flat rate of 10 cents; and mothers wanting to go shopping unencumbered could use the service for a flat rate of 10 cents. The opening day, however, was a dismal failture - no one showed up. The rain was blamed though and optimism still abounded.

 

Lucy and Emma Ackley in their front parlor

 

And the children did come. It might not have been the first day, but shortly after five children attended plus two that stayed at the nursery before and after school. Among the children served by the nursery were the McNemee girls – Inez (age 6), Dorothy (age 3), and baby Mae. The children had activities, toys to play with, and swings to kick their feet in freedom. The nursery also had advantages for the mothers. Nursery committee members assisted mothers in making clothing out of donated material for the children.

 

Through it all, Ivy Dell McNemee was doing her best to keep her home and family intact. She would get up at 4 o’clock, get breakfast ready, do the necessary housework, dress her girls and and the deliver them to the day nursery. She would then work downtown until 5:30 pm, pick up her children and return home. A tiring cycle that took its toll on her health.

 

But the nursery, while so dear to the McNemees, consistently had low attendance. Compoundinf the issue, the Ackleys also decided to move to nearby Cummings where Miss. Ackley was to take a position at the bank. And so, by August, the decision to close the nursery was made. Ivy Dell was hospitalized for intestinal troubles within days of the announcement. 

 

For the McNemees, the closing of the nursery was a great loss, and home life was not any improved. When Arthur would drink, his anger led to uncontrolled outbursts, and sometimes jail. Money he earned would be spent on liquor and not for the necessities of the home. But no matter the unchanging circumstances on the home front, the fact remained that the Atchison Day Nursery kept this family together during its greatest upheaval. 

 

*Author's note: Ivy Dell and Arthur are my maternal grandmother's grandparents. Miss. Emma Ackley never married and was a good friend of my maternal grandfather's mother, who inherited many of her family items after Miss. Ackley's death.

 

Sources Used:

 

Atchison Daily Champion

1912    “Paid Dearly for the Stolen Ride.” Atchison Daily Champion (newspaper), Atchison, KS. November 10, 1912, page 1.

1913    “Plan Day Nursery for Atchison Babies.” Atchison Daily Champion (newspaper) Atchison, KS. November 26, 1913, page 8.

1914    “Day Nursery Opened.” Atchison Daily Champion (newspaper) Atchison, KS. April 7, 1914, page 3.

1914    “Open House Today.” Atchison Daily Champion (newspaper) Atchison, KS. April 14, 1914, page 2.

 

Atchison Daily Globe

1914    Atchison Daily Globe (newspaper), Atchison, KS. March 17, 1914, page 2.

1914    Atchison Daily Globe (newspaper), Atchison, KS. April 21, 1914, page 8.

1914    Atchison Daily Globe (newspaper), Atchison, KS. June 18, 1914, page 6.

 

Atchison Weekly Globe

1912    Atchison Weekly Globe (newspaper), Atchison, KS. November 28, 1912, page 3.

1914    Atchison Weekly Globe (newspaper), Atchison, KS. April 2, 1914, page 3 & 7.

1914    “City Items.” Atchison Weekly Globe (newspaper), Atchison, KS. April 6, 1914, page 3.

1914    Atchison Weekly Globe (newspaper), Atchison, KS. August 1, 1914, page 10.

Burn the Ships

"How did we get here? All cast away on a lonely shore." 

This year has left us weary.  Homeschooling can be tough.  Homeschooling and running your own business even tougher.  No matter how many times I've seen God's hand in it all and how he's worked through our lives, I struggle.  This year has become our year of "yes, Lord, I know you have it" but at the same time taking a deep breath expecting to drown.

Our vacation this year was planned to be unplanned.  We decided the time only out of desperation for needing a break.  We decided the place only because it was far away from the Great Plains where we work and in the opposite direction of some other mini adventures.  We planned one stop for an adventure and left the rest up to God and hoping He would take care of it, but truly not caring if He did, just as long as we got away.

I have struggled with contentment issues all year.  I feel blessed because we have so much work where it was mostly absent last year, however, I feel overwhelmed with the amount and then discontent and then mad at myself for essentially questioning God's plan.  It was a vicious cycle.  I was hoping vacation was going to snap me out of my sick cycle and be a fresh start for all of us because we all were struggling.

It has become a tradition before each major trip for me to purchase some good traveling music to upload into our van, that way if we can't find a good radio station, we have something new and fresh to enjoy.  This trip's music included For King and Country's new album (just came out the week we left) Burn the Ships. That song from the album pretty much became an anthem for our trip.

"Burn the ships, cut the ties

Send a flare up into the night

Say a prayer, turn the tide

Dry your tears and wave goodbye"

Just a month out from our trip, my cousin from Texas sent us her wedding invitation.  I knew the wedding was coming up, but with as hectic as things had been, had perished the thought of trying to make it.  God wanted us there though, the day of the wedding was one day before we planned to leave on our trip so we jumped at the chance. What a blessing to go and celebrate such a happy time with our loved ones.

The next day we were off to our only planned portion of our trip... Vicksburg.  Hubby had been to the battlefield when he was in junior college.  Bubby was thrilled beyond reason to be at a big battlefield - he's kind of a Civil War nut ;) He took pictures of just about every monument.  And of course, we had to get our Junior Ranger badges!  Another one down! ;)

Shorty loved the trenches.
Making shooting noises as
he dodged bullets.

While we were at Vicksburg, I was trying to figure out which of our relatives might have fought there during the Civil War.  Neither Hubby nor I did, but I did notice that the 78th Ohio fought at Vicksburg and two of my great-great grandma's brothers served with the 78th.  Both died of disease at Shiloh and Jackson in Tennessee before their regiment made its way to Mississippi.  With such heavy losses at Vicksburg, it made me ponder if they'd made it further if they would have survived the war even then.

A picture of one of my
great-great grandmother's brothers,
unnamed except for the relationship.

After Vicksburg, we wandered our way to our little rented house in Gulfport, MS.  It was a nice little house just a couple of blocks from the beach.  Our biggest worry was hurricane season (that was not even on my radar when I booked the house).  God took care of that one too.  We had another house we had scheduled to rent in Gulfport canceled on us by the owner. After the cancellation, friends suggested we travel further east to nicer beaches and more interesting spots.  We happened upon another house in Gulfport, and out of sheer exhaustion of trying to find something new, stuck with the plan for Gulfport as our base, which worked out in our favor with Hurricane Michael hitting the area further east from us.  My heart aches for the destruction and loss there :( 

The next week was full of adventures ranging from walking through a bayou (Bayou Sauvage, LA)

To going to a place very similar to Sea Life where Shorty was invited to pet a dolphin (much to his excitement, and Mookie's dismay!)

Much time was spent on the Gulfport beaches:

Blessings abounded. We felt freer than we had in months and just enjoyed being together. 

"Walk through the sorrow,

Out of the fire into tomorrow"

"Feel the wave disappear, we're coming clear, we're born again

Our hopeful lungs can breath again"

Our last full day was spent on Ship Island 10 miles offshore from Gulfport/Biloxi.  It was a culmination of all our favorites: wildlife, outdoors, and history.  If we make a trip back to this area, we will go there every time.

Fort Massachusetts on Ship Island

A shot of some dolphins following us back from
Ship Island. Taken by Bubby.

"Say a prayer, turn the tide

Dry your tears and say goodbye"

We left Gulfport the next day.  Taking a deep breath, saying "I trust you God" as we drove the 15 hours straight home so we could have one full day of rest on Sunday before we crossed into the unknown again.

The whole time we were gone on our break we didn't get one work phone call, not one e-mail for work of any consequence.  God put it all on hold.  The work week started again and we had a day of catch up and starting of school. Then Tuesday announced the arrival of two more projects for work.  God's timing.  I can't control it, so I don't like it, but it's perfect.

"Step into a new day

We can rise up from the dust and walk away"

"So light a match, leave the past, burn the ships

And don't you look back"

The Error of His Ways

Lafayette F. Mauzey was born in Ray County, Missouri in 1835.  His family had strong southern roots, typical for families in the newly admitted slave state. His mother's family had owned a family of African descent for multiple generations - a way of life that Lafayette eventually separated himself from.  His son Oscar, my great-great-grandfather, reported that the separation came after his father had seen the horrors of the treatment of the slaves.  Oscar detailed one such incident involving a man being tied to a tree stump as punishment from which the man died from exposure to the elements.

Grandpa Lafayette married in 1858 into a family staunch in their pro-slavery beliefs. The first years of Lafayette and Sarah's married life were spent in Platte County, Missouri in which slaves in 1850 accounted for 61% of the general population.  In 1860, the family was still at home in Platte County but by 1864 Lafayette had enlisted in the 12th Kansas volunteer regiment - enlisted to protect free-state Kansas from Sterling Price's advancement.  During his brief period with the 12th, he fought in the Battle of Westport in October 1864, which is known as the "Gettysburg of the West" and a turning point in Price's Confederate advance. 

Grandpa Lafayette's shift in his feelings towards slavery has always interested me.  Why? Surely he had noticed the horrors of slavery his whole life, was the neglectful murder of that one slave what brought on the change or was it more? My interest in other Bleeding Kansas and Civil War Kansas topics as of late caused me to take another look at possibly why Grandpa Lafayette shifted in his beliefs. I believe I found it, buried in information we already had.

Not long ago, a very distant cousin, and also a descendant of Lafayette gave my mom the Mauzey family Bible.  In it is this inscription:

"L. F. Mauzey was converted 

from the error of his ways

 in the year of our Lord 1864

 in Missouri, and moved

 to Kansas the same year." 

Perhaps Grandpa Lafayette's transformation was not just a philanthropic one, but a spiritual one as a result.  After the war, Grandpa Lafayette went on to become a minister of the Gospel, pro-Temperance and anti-gambling (both of the last two, his father was all but).  Isn't it funny how the answer to our genealogical questions are sometimes right under our noses?  This time it took a period of putting the research to the side and coming back at it with fresh eyes and asking different questions ;)

Part of my genealogy quest on this side of the family has been to pursue the histories and trails of the family that was unfortunate enough to be owned by my own.  I owe it to that family who had been enslaved by mine to preserve what past I can find on my end so hopefully it will benefit their descendants someday if they choose to pursue their past. The recent revisiting of the unnecessary murder of that poor man has pressed upon me to regroup my efforts to dig into this family's story once again.

There is Rest

If you ask most genealogists, they will declare their love for cemeteries.  After all, sometimes it's the best chance at getting to actually touch a stone that was lovingly selected for that individual.  I LOVE cemeteries.  I love visiting even those that aren't the final resting places of my family or friends, but I passed the chance up to go to a cemetery today.

About three years ago, I was blessed to teach a genealogy class to the eldest girls of some friends I think the world of.  They are the neatest family.  We aren't afforded the chance to get together often, but we sure enjoy the time when we do.  The girls at that time were in junior high and interested in finding out more about their family tree.  I had just taught a class to our homeschool coop and revamped the lessons for a one on one class with the girls.  The youngest, Kenzie, was especially interested and as shy as she was, would be ready for class each week with things she had found or questions about how to find more.  Kenzie's enjoyment of the family search was thrilling to see and reminded me of my own start in genealogy. My favorite session was taking the girls to their nearby cemetery and we talked about cemetery symbolism and what clues you can glean from the stones.  This was especially fun because the girls' grandpa was sextant for this cemetery.  We even found a buried stone for a young girl, and I encouraged the girls to have their grandpa dig it up and re-set it.  Their class was the last time I taught genealogy, and it was the most fun.

At the beginning of this year our friends found out, Kenzie, that sweet, precious girl had cancer.  As a friend, and mother my heart ached for them.  Today she was buried in that same cemetery we had such fun exploring those years ago.

Mookie had developed a severe headache this morning, and we didn't follow the funeral procession to the cemetery. But that would have been the toughest part for me because of the happy memory shared there.

Before today, cemeteries involved joy at finding a long lost ancestor, intrigue at wondering about an individual's story, and comfort during sadness at seeing family members' stones during a graveside service.  Today, well, today my heart couldn't handle all the emotions that would have met me at that cemetery. I am glad that sweet girl is not suffering any more, but my heart breaks so much for those she left behind.

Field Trip Friday: School for the Deaf

"Mom, I don't want to go to this museum, it's different."  That was Shorty's comment as we got out of the van today.  It wasn't that he didn't want to go, he didn't even know what lay inside.  Truth is, it's been ages since we've been on a field trip adventure, so when we pull into the back parking lot of a simple brick building without any bells and whistles signaling grand fun inside, the little guy didn't get very excited.  His words though were true, it was different, but it was another adventure broadening our kiddo's horizons!

Our trip today was to the William J. Marra Museum and deaf cultural center on the campus of the Kansas School for the Deaf.  I have been wanting to make this trip for a while.  My cousin William "Deafy" Boular attended this school for a time, and whenever we drive down I-35 its sign beckons us to come visit.

When we walked in we were greeted by a wonderful gal who was deaf.  It left me regretting we hadn't brushed up on our sign language!  Before Shorty was born, Mookie, Bubby and I checked out several sign language dvds from our local library and practiced daily.  We were getting really good at it, but our language lessons shifted to Latin and we let our ASL slip.  Lately, I've been watching our ASL interpreter who is part of our worship team at church and trying to stay practiced but I'm still rusty.  Our pleasant greeter though didn't let our ignorance phase her and handed us laminated descriptions of the entryway exhibits and showed us around.

We watched a short video and then our guide took us to my favorite part of the museum, a couple of rooms set up like a residence with technology to aid those without hearing.  It was great!  No pictures were allowed in the museum, so you'll just have to check all this out yourself ;)

The rest of the museum walked us through the history of deaf schools in the United States and ended focusing on the Kansas School.  There was also an opportunity to take a quiz on what we had learned through the museum - the kids loved this because they could play against each other!

Our host came back and checked on us before we left and asked us how we had found out about the museum.  I explained my cousin's connection, and she held up a finger for us to wait and disappeared.  She came back with a binder of students at the school for the deaf and my cousin was in there, giving his dates of attendance as 1885-1890.  How cool!

We all walked away feeling really glad we went.  Shorty did alright and had changed his tune, Bubby's favorite part was the quiz at the end, and Mookie's favorite part was our host.  I have no doubt that kiddo faked not remembering any of her sign language (she's done this before because she's a bit of an introvert).  She had so enjoyed her sign language lessons that getting to see someone speaking using just that language I'm sure was thrilling :)

We've been slacking on our field trips as of late, but this day might lead to a resolution to rectify that ;)

Pulling Up Roots

We have been in our current house for 16 years, but are getting ready to move (quite literally) into a new chapter in our lives.  Moving is always hard. Hubby and I moved 5 times in 2 years when we were first married and I haven't missed it!  However, this move will take us closer to Ducky and Grandma, and that is a very good thing.

The last few weeks have found me pouring through all of our accumulated things to see what to take, and what to move on.  Today as I mowed the yard, I was brought to a whole new realization of things to take - our plants. While that may seem a bit silly to some, to the "keepers" it is not.  Hubby and I are keepers.  We have often joked that we cannot get rid of anything in the house because it has some family tie to it - this is not too far from the truth in many cases.  It is also true of our yard.  With each dissolution of a grandparents' estate, we took some of the plants with us.

During my contemplative mowing, I counted off numerous plants that I "need" to make sure we take with us.
My roses, that Hubby bought me, which remind me so much of my Papa Mauzey and his prized roses.

Papa and Granny Mauzey in their backyard

The surprise lilies, aka "naked ladies" that Papa Mauzey gave us before he died.  Those flowers always make me smile because I remember when my Granny Mauzey first pointed them out and said, "There's a naked lady!" and just laughed and laughed :)

The irises: the short purple ones which bloom twice a year that Grandma Patrick thought so highly of, the multicolored ones my Grandmas Murray collected, the light purple ones we brought from Grandpa Bevitt's house.

Mookie and Bubby in the flower bed

The lemon lilies that had been my great-grandma's.  The forsythia that we grew from a start at our first home in Illinois. But the list doesn't end there...

Bubby and the tulips

There are ones I wish I could take, the violets that grow randomly throughout the yard kind of like weeds, but always make the yard look magical in the spring.  The dumb Star of Bethlehem that if they would just stay out of my nice flower beds and grow where I want them to, I would be glad to rejoice in their presence and the meaning of their name instead of cursing them ;) The flowering almond bush that presents little pink puffball flowers for a week in the spring.  Just one week, no more, but it is so pretty.

our fairy garden

My mental list encompasses the whole yard give or take.  In the end, it's just more "stuff".  But every item brings back a memory of one that is no longer here, and that isn't all bad.  So, my whittling down of the list of items to take continues...it may just not be very short...

Singing for Joy

I'm not a great singer.  I like it and feel more and more comfortable with doing it with the family listening or in public, but it's never been a huge thing or so I thought.  Just after Christmas I came down with influenza.  I was down and out for a whole week, followed by a nearly two months of respiratory troubles.  It wasn't until a few weeks had passed and I was in the kitchen fixing supper, listening to music and singing and Hubby said, "oh, Mom must be feeling better, she's singing again".  Wow!  It apparently was more of a part of my life than I knew!

Growing up, my mom always had a song for everything.  Anything from little advertisements from her childhood to songs from her youth.  Every car trip had the "golden oldies" playing on the radio and us singing in accompaniment - those were the best songs to sing to, songs these days aren't quite the same. She didn't branch out to anything more than regaling us with those musical numbers and I even repeat some of them to my own kiddos ;) 

Me (center) and my buddies at the Easter Passion play

Last year, I participated in the church's Passion play for the Easter season.  I was pushing my limits by taking on a part that included a bit of singing - I like to do that every once in a while ~push my limits~ I think it's good for the soul :)  My fear was that I would sing off key or crack on a high note.  My constant thought through the process of was my great-grandpa Cecil.  He would lead worship at the Methodist church my family attended.  He would sing his heart out, you could hear him outside the church - he was not a great singer, but he poured his heart into it. 

Grandpa Cecil

Or the gal attending our present church when we first started.  She had terminal cancer, her voice was weak and she was off key, but she sang because she loved the Lord - her song was one of the most beautiful I've ever heard and I don't even remember what song she sang. 

Between the thoughts that even if I was singing badly but with feeling and the "Mom must be feeling better, she's singing", I realized singing your heart out is not only glorifying God during worship, doing yourself good, but it leaves an impact and maybe even a legacy :)