52 Ancestors Week 31: A Day in the Life
From Amy Johnson Crow: Week 31:
The theme for Week 31 is “A Day in the Life.” Our ancestors were more than just names and dates. This week, explore an ancestor whose daily life you know something about (or that you wish you knew something about).
A DAY IN THE LIFE
The Stone and the Seed: September 14, 1910
You know how sometimes you're staring at a photograph that you stumbled across in your endless search for your family in a newspaper or a local archive, and you just know there's a story there? That happened to me with the photo of the dedication of the Pratt County Court House on 14 September 1910 in Pratt, Pratt County, Kansas. The building was draped with red, white and blue bunting for the occasion. A large crowd of people had gathered in front of the courthouse steps to hear the speeches from the local dignitaries. Horse drawn carriages and newly purchased motorcars were parked behind the crowd.
Pratt County Courthouse Dedication 14 Sept 1910 Photo Courtesy of Library of Congress, Colorized via Gemini Nano Banana
I have no idea for sure if my great-grandparents Lafayette "Fay" Coffman and his wife Zelma, with two daughters, Vera and Florence were in attendance, as their farm was in McClellen Township, Pratt, Kansas, which was about 12-15 miles away. But here's the thing (and this is what got me hooked): my great-grandparents and their two young children (and one on the way) would have witnessed the construction of this massive building for the year leading up to this day, do you think they would have missed the “grand-opening” of this grand building in their community? I think not!! I’m sure they would have made a very concerted effort to witness this most auspicious occasion. Something that would shape their community for the next hundred years.
The Journey That Almost Didn't Happen
September 14, 1910. The weather records I dug up tell us it was a gorgeous Kansas autumn morning: 55°F with a gentle northwest breeze. Perfect weather for a journey, right? Except this wasn't just a pleasant drive.
McClellan Township sat about twelve miles southeast of Pratt. Now, twelve miles doesn't sound like much to us, but in 1910, in a horse-drawn wagon? We're talking three to four hours. What is known from the records is that Fay was renting his farm and so he may not have had the means to own a fancy “Surry with the fringe on top” type carriage to carry his family into town in style, so a typical farm wagon may have had to do. I can just picture Fay in the early morning light, hitching up the team, being extra careful about everything. And here's why: Zelma was six months pregnant with their third child—my great-grand uncle Milton Henry Coffman.
Can you imagine? Six months pregnant, bumping along dirt roads for hours. I have the feeling Fay must have padded that wagon seat with every quilt they owned. Every rut in that road—and trust me, there were plenty—would have been felt. But they likely went anyway. That tells you something about how important this day was to them.
A Temple Rising from the Prairie
So, what were they traveling to see? The dedication of the new Pratt County Courthouse—and oh my goodness, what a building it was!! Designed by the renowned George P. Washburn.
This wasn't just any courthouse. This was a "Temple of Justice" built in gleaming Bedford limestone. The whole thing cost $101,000 (a fortune in 1910!) and they built it in just one year. One year! For people like Fay and Zelma, who spent their days fighting the unpredictable Kansas soil, watching dust storms roll across their fields, wondering if the crops would make it—this courthouse represented something they'd never had before: permanence. The Coffman family would have seen the advertisement in the newspaper about this momentous event happening in their community and would be aware of the importance of it to the community.
The Pratt Union Newspaper 8 September 1910 www.newspapers.com
When they arrived with thousands of other people that day, they weren't just seeing a new building. They were seeing proof that their county was no longer some rough frontier outpost. They had arrived. They belonged to something real, something that would last.
The Real Heart of the Day (A Picnic, Obviously)
Now, there were probably speeches. Lots of them. Long ones. But I'll bet you anything that for the Coffman Family, the best part of the day wasn't the dedication ceremony—it was the picnic afterward.
I can picture Zelma's "basket dinner". She likely would have packed cold fried chicken, salt-risen bread, and—my favorite detail from the research—vinegar pie. Yep, vinegar pie! That's what farm wives made when lemons were a luxury they couldn't afford. Talk about making do with what you had. I can just imagine the care that she took to gather all the ingredients and get the recipe just right for this occasion.
And the clothes! This was their chance to dress up in their “Sunday Best”. Fay likely wore his only nice suit (which must have been uncomfortable in the September heat, but you know he wore it anyway because it was important. Zelma in an Empire-waist lingerie dress—chosen not just because it was fashionable, but because it accommodated her growing belly. They were dressed as citizens, not just settlers. They belonged.
The Passenger No One Could See
Here's what gets me every single time I think about this day: As the sun started to set and the celebration wound down, as that beautiful limestone courthouse stood silhouetted against the purple Kansas sky, the Coffman Family loaded up their wagon for the long trip home. They may have made a quick stop at the local mercantile on Main Street on their way out of town to stock up on provisions since this may have been their weekly or monthly jaunt into town. Fay drove slowly (bless him), probably even more carefully than the trip out. The wagon was heavy now—supplies from the general store, two exhausted toddlers asleep in the straw.
And beside him, Zelma's hand rested on her apron, feeling the movements of the baby who would be born on December 2, 1910. Milton Henry Coffman—my great-granduncle—was there that day. He was the "unseen passenger" of the dedication, the first of their children who would be born into this new era of Pratt County. The first who would never remember a time before that courthouse stood watch over their community.
(I should mention—because I can never resist a good ironic twist—that the courthouse burned in a devastating fire just thirteen years later. But on that September day in 1910, it was perfect and pristine and full of promise. And that's how Fay and Zelma would have remembered it.)
Why This Story Matters to Me
Look, I know my family probably thinks I'm crazy for spending weeks tracking down weather records and researching Edwardian fashion and calculating wagon travel times. My kids have made the "there she goes again" face more than once when I start talking about my ancestors.
But when I document a day like this—when I can piece together what Zelma may have packed for lunch and how Fay likely hitched the horses and what the temperature was that morning—I'm doing more than just recording dates and names. I'm honoring the quiet strength of a mother who traveled miles while six months pregnant because it mattered. I'm celebrating the diligence of a father who made sure his family was part of their community's most important day. I'm remembering the hope of people who saw their own future reflected in the rising stone of a courthouse that would outlive them.
That's why I keep chipping away at these brick walls. That's why I'll keep searching through census records and weather archives and architectural histories. Because these people deserve to be remembered not just as names on a page, but as real human beings who lived full, complicated, beautiful lives.
And who knows? Maybe Milton Henry, resting in his mother's womb that day, somehow absorbed the significance of it all. Maybe that's why he grew up to be the man he was.
But that's a story for another day!
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Research Notes:
This narrative is based on the 1910 Federal Census for McClellan Township, Pratt County, Kansas; climatological records for September 14, 1910; architectural histories of the Pratt County Courthouse and George P. Washburn's work; contemporary accounts of the courthouse dedication; and research into Edwardian fashion, food customs, and transportation methods. All the facts are there—I just added the heart.
