"The Shortage"

A Bit of History from My Dad's Perspective

With Due honor to

Chester Richard Short 1905-1966

During the early years of my life, one of the most enjoyable experiences was to hear my dad talk about his childhood. His world in his own early years was fraught with poverty. There was a lament in his telling, not because he was ashamed, but simply because there was never enough. My grandfather, George Melvin Short, worked in the lead mines, was poorly paid, and lived the life of a “shack-dweller.” Dad used to tell about “papering the walls with the Joplin Globe” every year. They had “running water” – dad and his sisters ran to the creek to get it every day. He used to joke about how life had changed since he was older: “When I was a lad, we ate in the kitchen and went to the toilet outside. Now, we eat outside, and go the to toilet indoors.”

When he spoke of school, he always said he went through high school – in the front door and out the back. Yet, he was filled with pride and ambition. He wanted better for his own children, and provided that. All of his children are college graduates, with graduate degrees. His nine grandchildren are all professionals and were he alive today, he would be filled with pride at their accomplishments.

It was not possible to get a full background on my dad’s family. But he was concerned that we knew as much as was available. Out of loving respect for his skills and determination, his appreciation for the fullness of life, I am adding his own story to my home page. I particularly want my children and grandchildren to know the story.

Here is his rendering of that story:

It was the year of 1859 that Mr. & Mrs. Wiley Templeton loaded their covered wagon with their possessions and seven children and started west from a point in Tennessee near the city of Chattanooga.

The children were John (20), Jim, Nancy Jane (19) {his grandmother}, Sarah (17), Gordon, Rome (8), and William Wiley (Whit), age 1.

It must have been quite an event in their lives, winding over the hills and valleys of the Ozarks on unmarked roads which would also include fording streams, searching for campsites where fuel and water were readily available. And one characteristic of that part of the country – it was very much unlike travel on the western plains - nature provided these necessities. At that time there were wild turkey and deer in abundance in the woods. Travel was very slow and 10 or 15 miles a day was normal. It could be reasonably assumed that the trip to their destination required about twenty days – the destination being Godby, Missouri. (now known as Corsicana) in Barry County. In this unsettled country thru which they traveled, Missouri had only been a state for 38 years and Arkansas only 23 years. There they were to live for about seven years. The exact location of the home is about two miles south of the old gristmill that remains at the bottom of a high hill on which a cemetery is located. This gristmill is virtually all that is left of Corsicana and is where the Templetons had their grain ground before the Civil War.

It was in the late 1940’s we had the pleasure of visiting this community with Uncle Whit. He told many interesting things of the past. We asked many questions and should have asked more. One thing that was very impressive was that when we were at the gristmill,, Uncle Whit, a large man about 6’1” and weighed probably 240 pounds, stood out in front of the mill, leaning on his cane and looking at the mill and up at the high hill in the background said, “There is the old mill and the old hill I once knew and now I am old and all my folks are gone.”

His home was a large two-story dwelling. It had two fireplaces, one in each end, and it was on the West Side of the road. There was a spring on the slope of the hill back of the house and it was covered by a springhouse in which milk, butter was kept. Believe it or not, this home was still in existence in the 1940’s. It had been torn down and rebuilt in another location to the north of the original location (about 2 or 3 miles). The spring is also gone, probably choked, which can easily occur to a spring. The terrain in general has not changed with time.

In addition to the above, there was a smokehouse and a large barn enclosed inside a large barn lot, which was accessible from the main road. The land they farmed was located to the west of the home and there was a small stream that flowed through it, probably fed by the spring referred to.

(The home referred to in this section of dad’s story was the home where Uncle Whit lived, and where his grandmother, Nancy Templeton Short had grown up. It was quite a contrast to the place dad lived as a child. In his parents home, there was not only poverty, but dad had three sisters, and his Grandmother Nancy also living with them.)

They (The Templetons) would go to Sedalia Mo.on major shopping trips to take farm produce to sell and come home with dry goods, salt and other items that could not be produced or purchased locally. Taxes were paid in Neosho. Wheaton, which is located near Corsicana, did not at the time exist.

Things went well for the family for a little less than two years. Then came the Civil War and that changed the entire picture. The older boys, John and Jim, had to go. In the meantime, Uncle John had married Aunt Tress, and she stayed with his family for the duration. It must have meant extreme anxiety for all because no word was ever received from them during their absence.

Then came the soldiers from the North rumbling through the hills in wagon trains plundering, ransacking, foraging and killing.

Uncle Whit pointed out a location where a house had stood those hectic days. A young married couple occupied it. Once when these soldiers were coming through, they knocked on the door, called the young husband out and shot him dead in cold blood. History bears out the fact that this was not uncommon. The sorrowing young widow and my grandmother (Nancy Jane) constructed a coffin and buried the young man in the cemetery on the hill above the gristmill.

When these soldiers stopped for the night, the lead wagon would pull into a barn lot and drive completely around, keeping to the extreme right and all other wagons following closely. When the first wagon reached the gate, it would stop there and all the wagons would be in the barn lot in a circle so there they would camp. But that is not all they would do. The soldiers made good use of their time. They took the meat and anything else from the smokehouse and the contents of the milk house. They would load their wagons with hay, corn, or anything else available for the horses – nothing was sure of being spared – even life itself. The next morning the wagon train would move on continuing devastation. The farming continued but things necessarily grew worse as the war kept going.

But the war finally was over. The Templetons, because of geographical location were on the losing side. After a period of time they had a shock of their lives. One day, all unannounced, John and Jim came walking in the yard. The excitement was tremendous. The father, (my great-grandfather) was plowing in the field and someone said, “Whit (then 7 years old) go get Pa. So away went Whit on the run to get his Pa, who was on the other side of the stream that flowed through the farm. There was a footbridge across it, but Whit was so excited, he ran through the water and to his Pa said, “John and Jim are home!” He Pa said, “hold these horses” and Pa started running – he also forgot the footbridge and arrived soaking wet to greet his sons. Uncle Whit’s comment: “My, we sure had a campmeetin’!”

John and Jim had been gone three years, and not one word had been heard from them. It was not known whether they were dead or alive. They had been cooks in the army and were together all through the war.

At war’s end, the South lay prostrate. Nearly one in every four white men in uniform had been killed or died in service. More were maimed. Cities, industries and railroads had been burned and dismantled. Rich farming regions had been laid waste by Northern armies.

The North had applied a scorched earth policy to several of the South’s richest states. At the same time, 3.5 million slaves were freed – forcing a revolution in the agricultural system that lay at the base of the South’s economy.

All was different after the defeat of the American South. Although the South was prostrate, the North imposed military occupation upon the Southern States for 12 years after the fighting stopped.

There were no great relief efforts by the North comparable to those made by the U.S. after World War II, even though more than a million persons faced starvation in the South during the year following the war – and some did starve. For many soldiers released from Union prisons, freedom was merely the exchange of one kind of degradation for another.

For Southern farmers, at the close of the Civil War, there were no Government Crop loans, no free seed, no new farm implements to replace those destroyed by the marching armies. Planters came home to hungry families. There were hosts of Negroes, former salves, also to be fed. When military government ended, southern families were left with 3.5 million free Negroes on their hands – most of them untrained for anything except raising cotton. The former masters were almost as poor as the Negroes. For the most part, the whites had only land, no money to pay workers. Out of this situation grew a system of sharecropping. The farmer furnished the land. He mortgaged his crop in advance to get supplies for himself and the Negroes. The crop was divided between landowner and tenant. Cotton was the only cash crop that could be grown in most areas. There were few banks. Money had to come from merchant suppliers. Like it or not, the Southern farmer had to raise cotton. Share cropping became a way of life.

After the war, the Templetons shared in this deprivation, although their principle crop had been grain. They then decided to move to Carthage Missouri, in Jasper County from Barry County. The location of their new home was on east Chestnut street, at the top of the hill, just east of the MoPac RR tracks on the east edge of town. The house was on the south side of the road and stood back a short distance from the road. In the front of the home was a truck patch where berries, etc were raised.

Jasper County had been in existence as a county since 1841, and was named in honor of a hero in the Revolutionary War – Sargent Jasper.

The first session of the Jasper County Circuit Court was held February 25, 1841, at the residence of a George Hornbeck on Spring River. The home of Mr. Hornbeck was a one 12x16 foot room, pioneer log house, and besides a table, contained a half dozen split bottom chairs and a couple of old fashioned beds. The county seat was formally named Carthage on March 28, 1842.

The first political election in Jasper County was held in 1842 between the Democratic and Whig parties. The first Courthouse was built on the north side of the square in Carthage. The old courthouse was built in 1851. It was a two-story brick building. It served as a hospital for the wounded soldiers of both Union and Confederate armies after the battle of Carthage and in 1863 was burned during one of the frequent raids that took place in the county.

It was in Carthage that the family began to separate. My grandmother, Nancy, married Martin Orrin Short and they lived at the east end of 2nd street (dead end street) in the house on the SW corner and that is where my father, George, was born in 1877. There were other children in this family – Bell, Bill, and Bert Short.

M. O. was a widower. He was also from Tennessee, having taught school there. But in Missouri, he tilled the soil. There was a half-brother, Paschal who I never saw. He had moved to Los Angeles and was a machinist, (and a good one too, according to Uncle Whit.) My father used to correspond with him. In the year of about 1883 or 1884, the Short family moved to Carterville, Mo.

Carterville was a new town then. It represented a great period of activity. It (and the period ) was rather noted for its home making and business improvement. It came into existence the same year as Webb City. (More about Webb City later). The land on which the original town of Carterville was built belonged to a farmer named J. P. Carter.

The first mining activities in Carterville were commenced by W. A. Dougherty and to him, perhaps more than any other man, belongs the credit for developing the mines in the Carterville District during the early days of the town where pluck and perseverance were required to make good.

Grandfather Short built a home in the 400 block on North Fountain Street, (what is now, 416 North Fountain) on the West Side of the street – the first building ever built on that lot. He was a great lover of horses. Just back of the home some local horse fanciers built a racetrack and on a specific date there was to be a race and anyone could enter. M. O. Short owned a horse he wanted to enter, so he started training the horse long in advance of the time and in strict secrecy. So, on the day of the race, to the great surprise of his friends, entered and won the race.

He was an average sized man, except he was short – hardly 5’ in height. He also was a pious old fellow and wore a long beard as was customary in those times.

By this time, most of the Templeton siblings had all married. Most of them settled in or around Webb City – except Uncle Whit and his wife, Aunt Alice, who remarried in Carthage (?). Sorrow came in the untimely death of Uncle Jim Templeton about 1880. Aunt Amanda and three small children, Fred, Grace and Mabel survived him. They were living in the vicinity of the Budlong Mill, which was located about one mile east of the Lakeside Park on Center Creek.

Uncle Jim Templeton died of pneumonia and Aunt Amanda spent the remainder of her days in Carterville. She was a very religious person. She never remarried. Uncle Rome (1851-1916), on his 21st birthday married Miss Elizabeth Clifford. They lived around Webb City and Carterville their remaining years and had 7 children: Martha, Maggie, George, Hank, Wiley, Tom and Rosa. Uncle Rome was about 5’7” or 8” tall, weighed about 160. He had a full head of gray hair and a small birthmark about the size of a match head on his lower lip. He was soft spoken and appeared very kind.

When he was about 28 years of age, Uncle Whit worked for the Frisco RR in the cab as a fireman, but was discharged (which was a great disappointment to him) because of a heart condition. He was never bothered with it any more in his life. He became a stationary engineer from then on. Uncle Whit and Aunt Alice spent all their years in Carthage. They never had any children.

Uncle Gordon was the only Templeton that did not settle and die in Jasper County. While still a young man, he went to Texas and New Mexico, settled there and apparently never returned.

My grandmother, Nancy, one day when looking through the contents of her trunk, pulled out a picture about billfold size and showed it to me and said, “Chester, this is the way to comb your hair. (She should see me now) [Dad was completely bald]. This is your Uncle Gordon.” If this little incident had never occurred, I never would have known he existed.

Uncle Gordon married a Mexican lady, and they had one child, a son. When this child became 21, he decided to visit his father’s relatives, so he came to Carthage and Webb City. Sorry to report, none of them would have a thing to do with him (because he was dark) except Uncle Rome took him in and showed him kindness and that was the last that was ever seen of him.

Sarah (Sadie) Templeton (1842-1907) married Bruce McCoy, also from Tennessee and they lived around Webb City. There were two children – Lewis and Virgil (Bud). It was thought by some that Bruce McCoy would have been a member of the family, or gained national attention – from the Hatfields and McCoys. The reason for this was simply, that Bruce was from that part of Tennessee. Bruce disappeared and was never heard from again, and after legal time had passed, Sadie married Meredith Cox (1851-1895) . Being widowed by Mr. Cox’s death, she married untimely Daniel Reitz. We knew him as Uncle Daniel. He was of medium height, plump in size, a reddish face, and a long white beard. Being very jolly, he was a natural St.Nick. Uncle Daniel loved to cook and prepare delicious dishes.

He visited us once at Four Corners. His mode of travel was a small covered wagon drawn by two small burros. In the night one of them brayed and one can imagine how the sound carried in the silence of the night. We children thought that was really funny. After that visit, we never saw Uncle Daniel again.

In the early 1890’s the Shorts moved to an area east of Joplin on Range Line Road, South of 7th Street, known as “Thousand Acre Tract.” There seemed to be a new strike (of mining) there and many families moved to that location. They had known many residents in Carterville, and after 80 years there are some remaining “Old Timers” that remember them. It was there in 1896 (?) M. O. Short died. The date is assumed because at this late date, I have the deed to the cemetery lot in Webb City and it shows date of purchase as 1896. I cannot imagine them purchasing the lot before the time of need. Anyway, my Grandmother Nancy Templeton Short and her youngest child, my father, George, did live in Webb City after all this for awhile.

Uncle John and Aunt Tress lived in Webb City on North Liberty Street in their later years. They had four children: Will, Luther, Elizabeth, and Ollie. They spent their lives in that area. One could not help but have compassion for Uncle John. All the old soldiers were receiving their monthly pensions, but not Uncle John. He had fought on the wrong side which was no fault of his own. But he and Aunt Tress seemed contented. They are buried in the Webb City Cemetery.

Webb City, Missouri was named for John C. Webb around whose name much of the early history of Webb City is centered. It was upon his farm of 200 acres, a quarter of a mile west of the location of Missouri Pacific RR tracks and north of the old street car viaduct, that John Webb was resting after plowing one June day in 1873. He glimpsed a sparkle of a lump of dirt and realized he had found lead. From accidental discovery was destined to develop a great mining industry that made Webb City famous.

In 1856 John C. Webb came from Tennessee to Missouri and settled on a farm of 200 acres on the head of Turkey Creek. Most of the present site of Webb City was prairie land between the two farms of John Webb and W. A. Dougherty. On December 15, 1875 the town of Webbville, later Webb City, was platted by J.C. Webb. Mr. Webb reserved a block for a church and a school site.. Established in 1893, by A. H. Rogers, was a vast interurban system – the lines reaching to Carthage and to Galena, Kansas and later to Pitcher Okla.

For a period of 10 years, 1907-1917Webb City District was known as the richest zinc and lead mining district in the world. In 1916, zinc ore reached the highest price in history, $135.00 per ton. From there, the folks (dad’s parents) moved to Carl Junction, Mo. Carl Junction came with the building of the Joplin and Girard Railway. Charles Carl founded Carl Junction and being the crossing of the Frisco and Joplin & Girard was called Carl Junction. It made rapid strides during the nineties almost doubling its population and more that trebling its volume of business. During the year, many of the great fraternities were active: Masons, Odd Fellows, and Knights of Pythias (who would admit any that could pyth.)

My father worked there in the mines. People were coming in from everywhere to work in the mining industry. It has so many related industries, such as foundries, machine shops, carpentry, etc. It was band concert night and he had purchased an armload of groceries. On his way home and on the steps of Roney’s Mercantile Store, he met Ella Mae Rustin, who on November 25, 1903 was to become his blushing bride. In order to make a pleasant evening of it, he had to take the groceries home. She waited until he returned, and you can guess the rest.

So, they went to Webb City to live and the first two siblings were born there (Clara and Me) and when Clara was two weeks old, we moved back to Carl Junction. Except it was not in town, it was two miles south of town in an area called “Four Corners.” Four Corners is on the Fourth Street Road west of Webb City about 4 or 5 miles where two main roads cross. We lived about one mile north of these corners for seven years.

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The previous document speaks mostly about dad’s Father’s (George Melvin) family. George’s father was M.O. Short, and his mother was Nancy Templeton. The following document is about dad’s Mother’s (Ella Mae) family, the Rustins

“The Rustins”.

The Rustins had lived in this area many years, having come from Buffalo County, Mo. in 1880. Two brothers in-law came first, Mr. Perry Rustin and Mr. Williams who was the husband of Aunt Catherine Williams. Their wives were sisters whose maiden name was Owens. The men came on to Joplin to get jobs in the mines and to get located and then send for their families.

Mrs. Perry Rustin had been previously married to a corporal Stewart Jennings. He had been a soldier in the Civil War on the South. My mother, Ella Mae, used to have his honorable discharge certificate in her possession.

They lived for a while on the northwest corner of the W. C. road at the Joplin and Pittsburgh RR crossing. Their home was back some distance from the road. This is where my mother, Ella Mae Rustin Short was born. There were five children: Salinda Jennings Miller, Amanda Rustin Wood, Alfred Jacob (Jake), Arthur, Ella Mae Rustin Short.

Later they lived south of Peace Church cemetery. Their home was about in center of the large curve and on the East Side of the road. It was a one story brick (that soft, red brick they used to use) and it sat back about 100 yards from the road, facing south..

This was a period of much sorrow in their lives. Amanda had married Charlie Wood, and they had one child, Martha. Amanda died while they were all living there. The “Old brick house” as it was referred to, was the scene of not only sorrow, but also ghost stories with which we were entertained when small children. Example: One night all was well and there was a great commotion at the barn. The horses were kicking and carrying on frightfully like they were trying to tear up the barn. So, up the men jumped out of bed and ran out there. But when they arrived, it was all normal, so back to bed they went. As soon as they were settled, the act repeated, so out they went again with the same findings (or lack of findings). This was the way the entire night was spent with no explanation as to the cause of such commotion.

One night in the summer time, they had company. The kids slept on the floor. My mother, who was quite small, was awakened in the middle of the night by a severe shaking. She awakened her father who was sleeping very near on a bed and explained to him what happened. He said, “Lay down there and go to sleep Elle, its all imagination.” So, she did, but the occurrence repeated itself. Grandfather Rustin said, “You sleep here and I will sleep on the pallet.” The same thing happened to him, so he would not sleep on the floor. They never discovered the cause of the many odd happenings that took place in the “old brick house.”

However, there were many happy hours for the small ones. Those large rock formations on the west side of the road provided quite a playground, including doll houses and games for the kids, and have been recalled with great delight.

Grandfather Perry Rustin left one morning to cut wood all day. He was carrying his Ax. When evening came, he did not come home for they started a search and it was very dark before he was located. They found him on the roadside suffering from a stroke or sunstroke (It was very hot weather). He never regained consciousness. That was about 1901.

Salinda (1869-1905) was one I do not remember. Her husband, Ewing T. (Bud) Miller and one daughter, Dora, survived her. Bud never remarried. They are buried in the Carl Junction cemetery.

Amanda died young and was survived by her husband, Charlie Wood, and one child, Martha. Her grandmother Wood in Lamar, Co reared Martha. Martha used to visit us when she was a teenager and being a small child at the time, it was a real joy for me to have a guest from so far away. She was always primping and was a beautiful girl. It was said that her grandmother pushed her forward to make her popular with the boys. Her first marriage failed and she remarried a local Lamar boy, Frank Lester, and they raised a family. Her last known address was in the mining area around Pitcher, Okla.

Jake married Elizabeth Bunker about 1900. Their romance began when the families were living in the vicinity of the spring in “Happy Holler” where so many came for water. The spring was quite a meeting and visiting place for everyone. Many families lived close by because there was no water anywhere else near. Wells were very expensive because they had to be drilled. Because of the flint and other hard rock, digging by hand was prohibitive. Jake and Chris, as she was affectionately known, had three children: Edgar, Grace, Floyd, and Glen.

They lived for some time in the Thomas Place (on the Webb City Road) and that is where Grandmother Rustin died in 1909.

In the meantime, Arthur had left. He had gone to Carl Junction, rented a bicycle, and rode off, never to be seen again. While Grandmother Rustin lay seriously ill, a postcard with a colored picture of a ranch in Montana was received from him. The message stated: “This is where I work.” A telegram was immediately dispatched to him, but it was returned stating he could not be located. No further word was ever received from Arthur.

Jake and Chris moved to a location about ¼ mile south of where we lived, and he got a job working nights at the Old Cherry Tree Mine, about a mile to the north. In fact, when crossing the Center Creek bridge going south, the road veers slightly to the right. If you went straight and did not make a turn, you would run into the CT mine, which was at the bottom of a high wooded hill. Jake would go to work in the evening, he would be walking and his face would be red from the cold weather. We would always make a special effort to be at the window when he went by to wave at him, and he would always wave back. One evening, as he was going by, our stove pipe came out of the chimney and was smoking terribly, threatening fire to the house. Uncle Jake came in, fitted the pipe back in place and hit the elbow of the pipe with the poker making a dent in it. We were so relieved after it was over.

The old CT Mine was a small mine by comparison. Uncle Jake worked “in the ground.” He went to work one evening, and went into the ground, and after a while he came up for something. When he arrived at the surface, he stepped out of the “bucket”, apparently got what he was after, and stepped immediately back to the bucket to go down again, but it was not there. It had been hoisted on up for some unknown reason, so he fell to the bottom of the shaft. Since there was no hospital or ambulance, he was carried home by four men (one of whom was my father). He was laid on the bed in an unconscious condition. Blood was oozing from his ears and his nose. He was breathing very heavily. Of course, we all went to the home. Anxiety was overwhelming. There were the fellows from the mine. One was wearing high top rubber boots and he was very concerned he would make such a noise as he walked. (Being four years old, I was probably the only one that noticed him.) His concern and compassion was most conspicuous. His efforts were in vain, because Jake did not live through the rest of the night. Sorrow could not be described. There was tension – Why did Tom Rowden, the hoisterman, pull the tub on up, when there was not signal? -An unanswered question!

One very dark night, my father was going to the streetcar crossing to go to Joplin. He was going through the woods and that made it even darker. He arrived at a place where it was necessary to go through a barbed wire fence. Just as he had the wires separated and got about halfway through, he bumped into a fellow coming through the other way. The fright of both was terrible. After they exclaimed out in fear, it developed that they knew each other. It was Bill Smith, a friend and neighbor. They sat on the ground and had a good belly laugh that relieved their tension.

Quite some time after Amanda died Charlie Wood remarried. They had several children (four or five). The family lives near the spring in “Happy Holler”. His wife, Roney, would have terrible seizures that would make her a mental case and would have to be removed from the home for treatment.

One cold winter morning, about 8:00, a knock was heard at our front door. It was Charley. He was a large man and kind of disposition. He was dressed in his rough clothes, ready to go to the mines to work. My mother asked him in. He came in and without one word sat down and buried his face in his rough hands and wept vigorously. Mother said, “Well, it is too bad.” Roney was having another spell, and Charley knew who would understand. It seemed that in later years, her condition improved because we visited them on Sundays many times and had fun with their kids.

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This is the end of the story from dad. They Rustin story seems incomplete, and it is probably because the Rustin Story always seemed tentative to our family. This story was written about dad’s childhood after he retired in 1961. It is still the way he told it and wrote it. Enjoy! Mel Short.

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