Returning to 1886 McCook

Imagine you are back in time and it is 1886. You don’t turn on a faucet to fill your sink, but you might, as my aunt did, have a hand pump that brings water up to cook and clean with. You might, but then again, all the water you have to use could be sitting in barrels hauled up from the creek by the oxen team that pulled your covered wagon into Nebraska. That is how my great-grandmother got her water until her brother, who was also homesteading a claim in Cheyenne County, managed to dig a well for the two farm sites.

Maybe you live in McCook and have water provided by the McCook Water Works, that is, if you lived in the original part of town. The west enders were petitioning to have the water mains extended to their homes in 1886.

The McCook Tribune editor had lots of suggestions (mini editorials throughout the paper) on how the town, or its’ population could be improved. It was the liberty of the pen in those days, you didn’t have to keep your personal opinions to one little column but rather could spread them out with every article if so inspired.

August 19, 1886, McCook Tribune: “This city is infested with a tough gypsy outfit, and about every portable article is disappearing. It is to be hoped that our people will show their good taste and judgment by not supporting such a miserable gang of loafers and disreputables. Of course, the ‘fortune teller’ is with them, and solemnly informs the giddy girl who repairs to her, the color of the ‘best feller’s’ hair, eyes, etc., besides much other fascinating information. If the girls must be in possession of this delightful knowledge, our handsome devil will vouchsafe it gratuitously.”

From the same edition: “The Tribune would suggest to the city council this means, legal means, out of the present financial distress: Donate the salaries, except those of the clerk and treasurer, hire but one police; (if the businessmen want a night watchman let them do so at their own expense), buy a statute, and be your own legal adviser. The above suggestions will save the city an unnecessary expense, by the way, that the city cannot stand.”

Page 5 on that date: “The dignified, genteel appearing gambler, who seems to be doing business in the rear of Saylor’s saloon, thinks the Tribune’s canonization of his gang of toughs ‘wasted sweetness on the desert air,’ etc. This same pompous corporosity is the same tin-horn, who was recently fired out of Hastings for sundry and scandalous crookedness, in the which he was shot several times by a fellow-tough. That he is allowed to operate in this city, openly, is not an honor to the Mayor, who made such fair promises before his election, none of which has he ever kept.”

Finally even base ball got a bit of fire from the publisher in the August 12, 1886 issue: “It is a matter of humiliation and regret that the base ball players of this city do not possess the good taste, the regard for the day, and the respect for the feelings of others, to refrain from playing on Sunday. The yelling and profanity of those engaged in this sport in past Sundays has plainly been heard by the residents in the eastern part of the city. It is to be hoped that this reference to the matter will suggest to the base ballists of the city the propriety of observing the day in a more civilized manner.”

133 years later, SWNGS has a library ready for your research of these fascinating years. Join us at 110 West C, Suite M-3 on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 1-4 p.m.