Before Cars, The Importance of Hay

Horse power requires fuel.

A century ago, thousands of tons of prairie hay were sold out of wild meadows each year. Railroads carried the hay to distant markets.

Hay was an important income source for homesteaders who were trying to get ahead. A 1908 New York Times article (pdf) states that hay was the second most important cash crop of Nebraska.

The 1919 Encyclopedia Americana reported that Nebraska was the biggest producer of prairie hay in the nation (2,544,000 tons in 1917). It also notes that the largest hay-shipping station in the world was located at Newport, Nebraska.

The following short description of the best of Nebraska's fine hay prairies was written in the late 1930, after the hay-shipping market had begun to decline:

West of O'Neill, the highway [Highway 20] passes through the great hay-producing country, which extends as far as Valentine in an almost unbroken stretch of prairie, dotted in the fall with large haystacks.

Source: Nebraska, a Guide to the Cornhusker State (page 310), by The Federal Writers Project, Nebraska. Published in 1939 by US History Publishers.

And where did the railroads carry all this hay? Some of it went to the horses of the U.S. Army, but much of it went to cities, to feed the millions of horses that labored in the streets.

If one assumes an urban horse population of approximately 3 million in 1900, then 7,200,000 tons of hay and 4,200,000 tons of oats were consumed by city horses per year. To grow this amount of fodder may have required as many as 15,000,000 acres.

Source: The Making of Urban America (page 120) by Raymond Mohl. Published by Rowman & Littlefield in 1997.

The production of hay for the urban horses was an important part of the economy. In the early 1930s, the Horse Association of America (HAA) issued several statements that blamed the depression in the agricultural sector on the automobile. They claimed that the ag depression would never have happened if automobiles, etc., had not largely replaced horses in city streets, and they provided a set of figures to prove it.

The authors of The Horse in the City think that the HAA may have underestimated the amount of hay needed, had horses and mules still been powering all city vehicles in 1930. However,

[t]here can be little dispute that the amount of land needed to feed urban horses and mules was vast. In short, horses had to eat in order to produce energy, and the food they consumed absorbed the output of large amounts of agricultural land, required massive capital and labor inputs for production and transportation, and necessitated an extensive regional and urban distribution system.

Source: The Horse in the City (p. 129) by Clay McShane and Joel Arthur Tarr. Published by JHU Press in 2007

The importance of hay in the economy helps to explain why the New York Times archives from the era of horses contain many reports of prairie fires. An example is the article, A Disastrous Prairie Fire (pdf), which burned a portion of the hay crop in the Newport, Nebraska area.

Besides the interest that the public always has in disasters, such fires were matters of concern to business people. Just as we watch the price of gasoline today, people watched the price of hay then.

Renovation Underway

Handsome old home rejuvenated

I've wished for years that someone would give this house a bit of tender, loving care. It looked so shabby that I feared it was doomed. I've been expecting to pass by and see a demolition in progress.

I was delighted when I drove by today and saw that new windows had been installed and new siding was being applied. It looks so nice.

This home is located on Virginia Street in Hopkinsville, just south of the stoplight at 21st Street. I took this photo from the car window as I sat in a line of cars, waiting for the light to change.

In the past, it looked to me like the house might have been split into apartments. If so, I hope that it's going to be restored to a single-family dwelling, again.

If this house does not set within the official historic district, it is certainly a near neighbor to it. Virginia and Main Streets (and the streets that run between them) have some lovely old homes

Another renovation has been completed recently. In downtown Hopkinsville, the old First City Bank building has resumed a commercial life. Photos from the open house appear on Eric Brake's blog.

Monday Monday, Can't Trust That Day

Some Mondays should be spent in bed

Before the alarm went off this morning, I dreamed about sleeping. It seemed that I had gone to work but I was tired. I had no customers, so I lay down on a sofa and went to sleep.

In my dream, as I was sleeping on the sofa, I woke a few times and wondered if anyone noticed or cared that I was lying down. Finally, I felt rested enough to resume my usual work duties. I rose from my nap and noticed I'd been sleeping for 3 hours (in dream time, that is.)

I should have taken the hint that it was a very good day for sleeping. Instead I got out of bed when the alarm rang. Soon after that, I compared the dentist's postcard and the calendar and discovered that I would be going to the dentist in a couple of hours.

I went straight to work after seeing the dentist. I'll summarize the events of my very bad day there by saying I had many customers who just couldn't make up their minds about what they wanted. The ambivalence was airborne and infectious.

As my customers made mad dashes down dead-end paths, they left a lot of opened-up, messed-up merchandise behind them. Helping them find the way back and cleaning up behind them made me tired. I could have used a nice 3-hour nap!

I drove Dennis's car to work today. When I got home, I backed it into his usual parking spot as he always does, and I missed the tree by at least a foot. (Thank goodness!) I was quite shocked to see how close I was to it. Like the dentist appointment, I thought it was farther away.

I checked to see if there's a full moon, but it's not even close to being full. So, I can only blame this day's craziness on Monday.

Monday Monday, can't trust that day,
Monday Monday, sometimes it just turns out that way
Oh Monday morning, you gave me no warning of what was to be
Oh Monday Monday, how could you leave and not take me.

(Complete lyrics as sung by The Mamas and The Papas)

Audubon State Park

Camping at Henderson, KY

Another pleasant outing in the faithful Coleman tent

John James Audubon, noted American ornithologist, lived at Henderson, KY, from 1810-1819. Today, the Audubon State Park preserves some of the old-growth forest where Audubon roamed along the Ohio River, observing the birds and collecting specimens to paint.

Isaac and I camped two nights at Audubon State Park, while we were sightseeing at Henderson, KY, and Evansville, IN, last week. Isaac had just three days free from both work and school. Dennis was still obligated at his job for part of that time, so Isaac and I went by ourselves.

The Audubon State Park campground is near the Ohio River, just off Highway 41 at Henderson. In fact, the traffic on the busy highway is clearly heard at the campground. Nonetheless, it's a beautiful site with tall trees and many squirrels. We were the only tent-campers there, and there were only about half a dozen RVs.

Isaac really likes camping, and Boy Scouts deserves the credit for it. I'm glad that he has a wholesome hobby that he can pursue all his life. When I camp with him, we don't rough it too much. We get a site with electricity so we can hang the "trouble light" in the tent for reading after dark.

This time, I also brought along a tiny television set, so I could see the McCain vs. Obama debate. To my surprise, half a dozen stations came in clearly with the small antenna. I watched most of the debate while reclining on my air mattress in the tent. Near the end, rain began falling, so it seemed prudent to unplug the extension cord and listen to my little radio instead.

Our campsite was under several black walnut trees. We set up the tent at the edge of the walnut area, but we still had to clear a spot by kicking dozens of black walnuts out of the way.

Whenever the squirrels ran through the treetops, the walnuts rained down. We weren't hit by any of them, but one did fall on my car's hood so hard that it made a little chip in the paint. Oh, well. That's a hazard of parking near walnut trees this time of the year.

The museum in the park has some of the Audubon sketch books, original paintings, and early prints. It's quite interesting. I didn't take any photos because there's a sign at the museum entrance that says, "No Cameras."

One interesting thing I learned at the museum was that Audubon set very high standards for himself. He went through his work every year on his birthday and destroyed everything that was not up to his current level of painting skill.

Like every other Kentucky state park I've visited, much of the infrastructure at Audubon State Park was put in place by CCC and WPA workers. The museum (photo below) was built in 1938 as a WPA project.

Next time we camp at Audubon, I want to hike some of the trails to see more of the forest. This park deserves more time than we were able to give it on this trip.

Sunset over the Ohio River

A mighty river

Isaac and I enjoyed seeing the Ohio River at Henderson, KY, and again at Evansville, Indiana. We saw this beautiful sunset from a nice park on the riverfront in Henderson.  It has many inviting benches, where you can rest and enjoy the view.

Several of the benches were occupied by groups of men who were chatting and watching the river. A few other people sat alone in the park.

A few blocks east of here, a wide, long, steep street leads right down into the water. It's a public access area to the river where anyone can put a boat into the water. It has parking spaces on both sides of it, so we drove about halfway down to the water and parked. It felt strange; we discussed whether cars ever tipped over sideways and rolled into the river. (Probably not.)

We got out and walked around briefly, but didn't loiter. We felt much safer on the high bank, above the river where the buildings sit, than on a steep downhill slope ending in water. Landlubbers like us have great respect for big rivers like this.