Reprinted with permission by the Sierra County Historical Society from The Sierran of April, 1971 Vol 3, No.1

Editor's Note: This week we conclude Elizabeth Dearwater Brown's account of growing up in Sierraville.

I have never been reconciled to the present mode of walking in the highway. Sierraville and its appearance has certainly changed, and I am sorry to say, not for the better. We had a fine Primary teacher named Walter Kynoch, and one year at the end of school he gave an entertainment by the children and enough money was raised to buy a beautiful bell which summoned the school children each school day. It was the most beautiful toned bell I ever heard. Say to say, one vacation day, I think in the early 30’s, the school house and the dear bell were burned to the ground. The school house that burned was the one in which Mama and her sisters and brothers went to school and taught by Mr. E.L. Case, and where Eatheland, Everett and I went, and where I taught for 6 years. So the old school house has many memories for us. Soon there will be no one left who remembers it or the teachers who gave us such good training.

I now remember and incident Mama told us many times. It seems that the County Supt. of Schools was visiting and he had a catchy mathematics problem that he liked to try out. At that time young men and women who were ready to try for a Teacher’s Certificate went to the school with babies just starting, and Mr. Case taught them well. As a teacher he never had a superior.

Well, Mama was a smart mathematician so Mr. Case asked if she could get into this problem business with the older ones. So the Supt. said Yes, but she’s pretty young for such a big problem because is hard and catchy. So the young men and women (they were grown up) and little Miss Nonie got up to the blackboard and the example was read to them. All went to work with a right good will, and the Supt. sauntered from one to the other. When he got to Mama she had the example finished, and he said, “That is right. Erase it, quick.” Mr. Case was so astonished he could hardly realize what happened so soon. No one else but Mama ever solved the problem so the Supt. said to her after all had given up, “Nonie, you can now explain how you worked the problem.” She was the Queen Bee for that day, at least.

When we were growing up we could always get up a candy pull, popcorn pop, games such as fox and geese, kick-thewicket played by the light of a bon fire; also everyone had stilts and some of them were pretty far off the ground. In the winter we skated on ice on the small creeks, slid down the small hill near the place now owned by Curley Wright, or bobbed behind any sleigh going up or down the road. Oh yes, we sometimes got a milk pan to sit in and we slid off barns. But we had no fancy rigs to have our fun in. We had home made sleds, skis, (we called them snowshoes), and we put on old overalls tied them around our ankles, wrapped our heads and necks, donned hand knitted mittens and we were off and into the world of snow and fun. How we loved the crust on the snow when it would freeze nice and hard. We could run for miles on it. And we could eat. It seems to me, now, that we ate our weight every day.

Everyone then raised a fine vegetable garden which kept the family supplied with fresh vegetables both summer and winter. Papa put apples, potatoes, cabbage, and all root vegetables in pits. First he covered the vegetables with sacks or blankets, then went on a layer of hay or straw and then about 8 or 10 inches of dirt to keep them from freezing. The cabbages were pitted with their roots upward so we could take them out one at a time. Our folks also made a huge barrel of sauer kraut, and believe me, there has never been any like it. Every family had a cow, chickens, raised two pigs and a calf for winter’s meat. The hog killing took place when freezing weather came and the moon was in the proper phase (everyone believed in the moon those old times). Papa and Mr. Joy, our dear neighbor, always had this hog killing the same day. We kids got the bladders which we blew up and put white beans into and we had balloons for quite a while.

On this day Mama made the best stew from the heart, liver and I do not know what else she put into it, but boy it was so good. Later the feet were cleaned and made into pickled pigs feet which were eaten during the cold days which have always marked the Valley. Lard for a year was rendered and so we were ready for anything that came along. Wood was obtained in great quantities. Logs were hauled in on sleds and later sawed up, split and piled. I never thought that the day would come when one could not obtain a stick of wood nor get a Christmas tree.

Three times a year there was a Grand Ball (dance): Christmas, Feb. 22nd, and 4th of July. Everyone had new clothes and danced from sundown until sun up with a huge midnight supper (which was needed). It was also a time for visiting with friends that came from out-of-town for the dances. Speaking of dances: Mama learned to dance when she was three years old. Nearly every Saturday night a crowd of young and old would gather at the Perry home, the chairs, tables, etc., were pushed out of the way, and Grandpa would get out his fiddle and the fun began. It would last until midnight and everyone had a most wonderful time. Mama said many times that she was sure that everyone who learned to dance in Sierraville when she was a youngster did so at the Perry house on those Saturday night.