I was born on September 6, 1876 at Sedalia, Missouri. My first memory of home is a lowly white cottage sitting among large trees, surrounded by pretty green pastures, dotted with white and red clover where the bees and butterflies buzzed and flitted around all day. Back of the house large apple trees furnished the making for the apple sauce that tasted so good with sweet home made butter and warm light bread (fresh from the oven) made by our own dear mother.

     All around the house flowers of many kinds grew, zinnies, marigolds, touch-me-nots, and pretty four o'clocks; also great bunches of live-forever; hollyhocks bloomed about the fences. The large garden furnished the main food for our needs. My mother always had her plant beds where she grew plants that later were transplanted in different places where they put on a new life and grew into usefulness or wilted and were pulled up and thrown away. One day I asked Mother why she transplanted them and she told me they were ready to begin their mission in the way God had planned. Then she told me the story of the fig tree.

     At evening tide we were called in to clean up and get ready for our prayers. Mother or Father would read a Bible story, then we would all kneel down while they would thank God for His many great blessings, and ask Him to bless each one of us; as we each said Amen, we arose and ate out supper, then the chores had to be done, like washing dishes, fasten up the chickens, carry in wood and kindling; then wash our feet and then it was time for another chapter of some book our Mother was reading to us, such as "Robinson Crusoe," "Peter the Whaler', Swiss Family Robinson", Pilgrim's Progress", and the one we liked best and were ever anxious to hear "what next" was "Little Lord Fontleroy." Then it was time to say goodnight and go to our beds.

    This was our routine for each day but don't think there was no play time for we often visited little friends or they would visit us. We would have "play dinners" under the trees, swing in the big swing and make mud pies down by the spring. We would make sand houses by covering our feet with the moist sand, packing it tight-then slip our feet out easy; then we gathered little rocks and put them in the sand house and play they were wild animals in dens. We would go out and hunt wild flowers and bring huge bouquets to our Mothers who had been spending the afternoon visiting each other and planning and talking over things we could not understand. Likewise the men folk would gather about in groups, work on wagons and harness, crops were sold, and when Mother's prize chicken were sold we children asked questions. We were told we are all moving to a new home where they were giving away land to every one. So one bright September morning in 1882 six wagons lined up and every thing like bedding, clothing, food, and other things needed packed in, the horses were hitched up; every one climbed in, then with the crack of whips and a loud "Ho for Kansas" we were on our way.

    Little did I think when we looked back and waved a last goodbye to our happy little home, what the future held in store for us and what hardships we would suffer along the trail ere we came to our destination. For the first few days it was like a picnic for the folks that were relatives and neighbors whom we had known all our young lives. So when it came camping time it would become a play ground for all, and the food tasted so good, the camp fires so warm and bright and every thing was lovely. But, alas, as we got out of the timbered country and on the wide expanse of prairie, the dust and wind never rested. Water became scarce and as our supply of food became less and less, times were not so happy. The houses were far apart and stores were also so we were limited on food. The horses were tethered out at night and fed on the tall grass that grew every where, yes, some of the grass was higher than the horses backs. The long dusty road that stretched ahead led us on and on, we knew not where but it was the only road so we drove on day after day in quest of the goal we had started out to reach.

     We camped one night near a river, put the wagons close together for now we were in the Indian Country. We were all very tired and soon fell asleep. When a loud clap of thunder startled us we prepapred for the storm that was apt to break at any time and break it did with all it's force. The rain came down in sheets, the thunder rolled, lightening flashed around our wagons. The horses plunged and raved, but every one kept dry, only my father, my sister and myself for the wagon we slept in was covered with just heavy muslin, the rain came through like it would through a sieve. At last the rain passed over but we wet as could be. Water stood on our bed; we soon made our way to the dry wagon where Mother and the other children were. Mother found dry clothes for us and tucked us in although it was a tight squeeze but we were soon in dreamland. The morning dawned bright and clear so on our way once again. The roads were muddy, the wagons heavily loaded so it was slow traveling. Father had taken cold from getting wet and became very sick. When we got to Eureka, Kansas, a doctor was called and he said Father would have to be sent to the hospital so he had to go by train to Witchita for that was the nearest hospital. Mother was left with six little girls to care for-the youngest a frail little tot only one year old so with Father gone, it was a sad time which I'll never forget and as I look back I know what every one meant when they told us we had a brave little Mother. One of the horses became sick and that slowed us down again. The folks in our outfit were all very good; only one person did not like children and at times where we were playing and laughing, she would shout at us and say, "For Lord sake, keep quiet" so Mother kept us in the wagon most of the time when we were in camp so we missed our play time and long walks; the good times we and the other children had learned to look forward to when it was camping time. But now we were looking forward to the time when we would get to Witchita and see Father and have him with us once more. Our Father was a quiet, kind man. He had a violin and in camp he would play it so we miss him very much and we would talk of the pieces we would get him to play when he would be with us again. We would wonder who would be first to see him. So through the long hot days we drove on and through mud, sand and high grass. Our dear patient Mother would tuck us all in at night, draw the wagon covers down and pray for the safe return of the one we loved so dearly. The next day we traveled on. There would be prairie dog mounds, hundreds of them, that covered acres of land. We children would see them from a distance frolicking about or sitting on top of their mounds that formed the entrance to their holes that really formed a chain of tunnels underground that made an escape from any direction, when we would get near them, down they would go an no sign of life could be seen.

     One day the boys with us bought some chewing gum. It was just like paraffin we use today but each piece of gum had a pretty whistle with it. Of course, when we all blew them at once it made a lot of noise. The ill-natured person with us told us to let her see our whistles. We gave them to her and she threw them as far as she could out in the tall grass. My mother was uneasy about Father and we came to her crying. She seemed quite upset but told us to let it pass for it was just her way. For the next day we would get Witchita and then get Father and every thing would be fine again. The idea worked and the whistles were soon forgotten. I don't remember when it was we got to Witchita but I do remember when we got in the edge of town, there was Father, standing clear out at the end of the street, bundled up in a big overcoat and a great woolen scarf about his neck. Everyone yelled, my Mother cried, we children ran for kisses and hugs. I don't remember how long it was until we reached our destination but the rest of the way our Father had to keep quiet so we children were kept quiet also but just to have him back made us happy. Before too many days we drove into Wellington, the end of our trail. It was a small, country town. Indians, dogs and ponies everywhere.

     They were quiet and law abiding but their dress was very primitive, the women wearing blankets, carrying their babies on their backs in some kind of baskets they made of bark and animal hides. They wore mocasins and beaded headbands. Most of the men had feathers on their headgear. In the past Mother had read us many stories about Indians stealing children, killing their parents and burning their houses so we were very much afraid of them, but they were quite friendly.

     Father got work with a cattle man who had brought the cattle in from the range to the feeding lots so father was to help feed. The cattle were put inseparate lots and each man had so many cattle to feed, water, and watch for their welfare in general. They were feeding green corn, stalks and all so a great many of the cattle died of bloat. The men dragged them out and were going to burn them. Some way the Indians heard about it and asked for the dead cattle. The boss said they could have them but to take them away; so one morning, bright and early Indians began coming in. They made camp about a mile from where we lived. All day they kept straggling in until their camp covered about 4 acres of ground. Then for several weeks they skinned cattle, cut them up in large pieces, spread the meat out in rows on the ground, sprinkled it with something; them each evening the meat was put in stacks. Each piece was sprinkled as they were stacked. This process was repeated each day and everyone watched it for several weeks; then they packed up and went back to the Indian Territory where they came from. We children were quite happy to see them leave for we still remembered the stories we had been told about their cruelty. On day a big old Indian chief came to our house to beg just anything we could give them. Begging was their past time, it seemed. A neighbor was riding past and saw him come in so he stopped and came in the house. Mother took the tiny baby in her arms, seated all the rest of us on the bed, 6 little girls all in a row. When the old Indian came in he looked about to see what he wanted. He turned to the neighbor, then he looked at we children and said, "Have heap papoose, all squaws?" Mother said, "Yes" Then he looked at the baby in her arms and said, "A John?" Mother said, "No, squaw." Then he asked for shoes, after a pair or two of old shoes were given him, he left and never came back again. Mother was afraid I was missing soon I made my whereabouts known, under the bed.

     I remember one time, not long after we had settled down, one of the young men that had come with our outfit sent for his bride-to-be so there was to be a big wedding feast at the home of his parents. Our parents were going so our cousins who were older than we, were brought to stay with us while the parents all went to the feast. I think it was perhaps 3 or 4 miles across the wide unbeaten prairie. It was mid-afternoon when they started and told us they would be back by 10 o'clock. As 10 o'clock came we watched and waited but in vain. We had the blinds drawn and doors all bolted so we could not see out but as it grew later, we began to get worried. We raised a blind and look out and every thing was covered with snow. The night was dark but the snow had stopped; by this time it was past midnight. My oldest sister said, "Let's set a lamp in the window. Maybe they can't find their way and that is what Mother always does when Father is away." So we put a lamp in the window and watched, listened and waited so in about 45 minutes they drove in. It was about 2 o'clock and they had been driving since before 10 o'clock but the road was covered with snow, the horses became confused and went criss cross around and around. But when they saw the light they raised their heads and whinnied and hastened their pace and started straight to the light. This was in the days when the lighting system in that part of the country was not so wonderful as it is today.

     When spring came, father rented some farmland from a man that had already obtained and improved a claim of government land. The crops grew and flourished, the corn looked beautiful and we were so happy but missed the shade of our big trees back home. Mornings we would play on the west side and in the afternoon, on the east side of the house and this is where we would have our song and prayer service in the cool evening. Then it turned dry and very hot. In one day and night the corn and other things dried up for the hot wind swept across the prairie, killing all vegetation. It was too late for a replant so the winter came on with nothing to look forward to, only a way to live, find some kind of work for food, clothing, and fuel.

     Our Father found work clerking in a grocery store so we did very well, really better than many others. For the groceryman gave him so many things left over. The school house was perhaps 3/4 of a mile up the road. A wire pasture fence near the road was our guide so we always stayed near it for fear of getting lost for the wind sometimes covered the wagon tracks and made it easy for children to become confused and lose their way and sometimes grownups.

     It was not long before we started to school. It was my first school, it was a long hot walk and the wind was terrible. The school house was a little one room affair with tall sunflowers growing everywhere. We would get the tall stalks and stick them in the ground, tie them together at the top and play they were teepees and play Indians. We would cover them with our coats and the tall grass.
     When winter came on it was bitter cold for the school house was not like the cozy ones we have today. Sometimes our toes and heels would freeze and we could hardly walk home. The water would freeze in the bucket so we could not get a drink; water was scarce so every one drank from the same dipper and poured back what was left. One day a cold wind had been blowing all day. About 1 o'clock some one knocked on the door. The teacher went to the door and talked a short time and then she told us to leave our books, our lunch buckets and everyone wrap up good and hurry home for a blizzard would be there in 2 hours. The teacher took care of the little ones; then out we all went. It had begun to snow and every one hurried. The children that came our way stayed close to the wire fence to find their way. We lived the farthest away. We soon met Father in a wagon, coming for us. We reached home in safety but the teacher had to stop and stay with us for a day or two before the road was cleared. We lived in a "claim house" of two rooms so you can see how crowded we were with four grown people and seven children. In about two weeks school started so we were happy back with our playmates, our books, and a teacher we all loved.

     The weather was clear and bright now and spring was on the way. One day I did not go to school and about 1 o'clock a shout of fire! Fire! And sure enough the tall grass was on fire and coming nearer and nearer. Every one was trying to stop it with every means known, but on and on it came in the direction of the school house where most every one had children. An Englishman was among the fire fighters. He waved his hand and yelled for every one to ask God to help. Well, that is what they did and believe it or not, but a gust of strong wind came from the opposite direction and the fire was out and the children came home unaware of what had happened. It was not long until vacation time and we could play out in the sun.

     One day a livery buggy with two pretty black horses hitched to it drove in to the yard. Of course we children stood and watched to see what any one would be driving in here for there was no such thing as a hitching post, not even a tree or block to tie a horse to, but at the corner of the house was a ring fastened to the house for that use. The man got out, looked about and then tied the horses. He was the most wonderful looking man we had ever looked at. He was tall, well dressed, wore kid gloves and pretty polished shoes. His beard was well shaped and black as a crow. His eyes were brown and he looked at we children with a kindly smile. We turned and ran to tell Mother of the guest. She came the door, and then with a cry of joy, she ran to him and they were soon in each other's arms. He said, "Sis, I've found you at last." We were standing in wonderment, looking and waiting and after a little while they told us they were sister and brother, had become separated and lost trace of each other for many years. He had finally heard of her being in Kansas so this was the end of his search. He was a lawyer and lived in Indianapolis, Indiana. That afternoon he and Mother had a long talk and planned for us to come to Ind. where there was a farm awaiting our coming. It was the inheritance from the family estate. My father was away at work and my uncle had to leave before he came in. It was a very great surprise, all together we told him the good news. Of course, Mother explaining it in detail later. The next week or two we were all agog. Mother sewing, father selling what few things we had left for we had lived three years through drouth, hot winds, sand storms and cold winters. So one dark cloudy day we boarded the train at Wellington, bound for Indiana. There were seven girls and one little boy, just a baby and we little girls were very proud of him. Such a family attracted a lot of attention so we did not lack having dainties of all kinds. We were very thrilled with or train ride and watched every thing there was to see till we would fall asleep from exhaustion. We were on the train three days and two nights. We got to Indianapolis one morning real early, boarded a street car for Irvington were our uncle lived.

     The street car was drawn by a team of mules whose harness bounced up and down as they trotted. The car stopped near our uncle's house. To we children, it looked like a mansion. Our uncle was there to meet us and show us the house. Our aunt was a lovely lady, and told the maid to take charge of we children. She had never seen my Mother or Father so we were all strange to her but from the first she loved all of us and proved it in many ways. The house was beautiful with drapes, carpets, chandiliers, and pretty pictures. There was a music room with a large piano in one end and well filled book shelves on the wall, a reading lamp on the table and easy chairs here and there in the long room. This was were we stayed until the house on the farm was vacated.

     It was a nice Quaker neighborhood, there was a big orchard, lots of pretty flowers and shrubs, with great pine trees in the yard, a wooded pasture and a stream near by where we could fish in the summer or skate in the winter so we were happy but the time came when farms were in great demand so my father and mother decided to sell and come to Jennings Co. and so this is where we came. Then the county was muddy, the farms poorly taken care of and the land thought to be poor. My Father had a corn planter and farmers would come to see it work. Some times I look about and see the pretty fields of bounteous crops, pasture where cattle graze, and feed lots where fine hogs are fed for the market, pens of fancy chickens and beautiful modern homes every where I just wonder if they realize what experiments and education have done for this county and their children and for generations to come. Just look over the record of 70 years ago and the ones in the last 10 years to prove this. We loved this home in Jennings Co. for now we were standing on the threshold of a new life where folk of our Christian faith lived and we learned to love them. We were no longer children but grown into young womanhood and mingled in the social affairs of church and school as well as in the play and parties like young people enjoy. My oldest sister married, then that was the break in our family circle; then my pal, the sister next older than I, went back to Indianapolis and married the man of her choice. In the spring of 1887, I met and learned to love a handsome young man. He was a native of Jennings Co., the son of Taylor and Mary Alice Stearns. We were married the following year and traveled the road of life together for 60 years. Several times we located in different places but always came back to old Jennings. We had a family of 9 children. Three passed away many years ago. The others are married and have children of their own. I'm left alone for my husband died less than one year ago. There are 23 grandchildren and 14 great-grandchildren. They are all very dear to me but before long the too will scatter out and start their homes some where, we know not where but that is the way of life.

     Here at Vernon where I live alone is a beautiful cemetery where my loved one was layed to rest and some day I'll lay beside him. He comes to me sometimes in a vision and some day, some where we will be together again.

This picture of Lily & Ernest Stearns headstone is one taken for Find A Grave by Traci Ashley here is a link to their Find A Grave listing.

     I've never had the privilege of visiting my childhood home since that unforgettable day we waved a goodbye to it but the memory lives on.
     Of the 7 sisters and two brothers of the family, there are five still living. Although we were all cradled in the same arms we have been transplanted to different parts of the country and I often think of the plants from Mother's plant bed and what she told me of why they had to be transplanted. So I will say I'm glad I was transplanted in Indiana for here I found true friends, love, romance and the joy of motherhood.

       Story by Mrs. E. A. Stearns

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Handwritten note attached to the story.
    She has 1 Bro & 2 sisters living After the death of my father she lived alone for a time then went to a nursing home from there to my home and since I work on wk ends she is staying with a Mrs. Alta Dixon near Dupont Ind. She is able to wait on herself and has a good mind but is unable to write due to "palsey"
            Written by Mrs. Stearn's daughter Hilda Stearns Cary

North Vernon Sun - July 8, 1958
Stearns Rites Wednesday
    Funeral services for Ernest A. Stearns, 79, Vernon, who died Sunday night at the Seymour hospital following an extended illness, will be held Wednesday afternoon at two o'clock at the Vernon Baptist Church. Burial will     be in the Vernon cemetery.
    Mr. Stearns a retired farmer, had lived all his life in Jennings county. He was a member of the Vernon Baptist Church.
    Survivors include his wife; three sons, Audley, who is the Jennings county assessor, Stanley, Connersville, and Wayne of Oregon; three daughters, Mrs. Hilda Carrie, Jennings, Wilma Miller and Mrs. Mildred Strickland, California; and a number of grandchildren and great grandchildren.
The Columbus Republic - July 11, 1958
Stearns Rites Set
    VERNON-Funeral services for Ernest Stearns, 79, of Vernon, who died Sunday night at the Schneck Memorial hospital in Seymour, were at 2 o'clock Wednesday afternoon at the Vernon Baptist church.
    Burial was at Vernon cemetery. Dr. W. H. Dillard, pastor of the North Vernon Baptist church, conducted the rites.
    Mr. Stearns was the father of Jennings county Assessor Audley Stearns.
    Other survivors are his wife, Mrs. Lily Davidson Stearns; two sons, Stanley Stearns, Connersville, and Wayne Stearns, Oregon; three daughters, Mrs. Hilda Carey, North Vernon route 2; Mrs. Wilma Miller, Riverside, Calif., and Mrs. Mildred Strickland, Brawley, Calif.; a brother, Clifford Stearns, Tulsa, Okla., a sister, Mrs. Laura Wildey, Indianapolis and 21 grandchildren and 13 great-grandchildren.

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North Vernon Plain Dealer - December 12, 1968
Audley Stearns dies Tuesday in Indianapolis
    Audley Stearns, 64, Jennings county assessor, died Tuesday afternoon at the Robert Long hospital in Indianapolis. He had been a patient there for several weeks and had been in ill health for some time.
    It will now be up to the county commissioners to name a successor to fill out Stearns' unexpired term.
    Stearn's, a Republican, was elected to the assessor's post in 1954. He served one term, being defeated in 1958 by the late Bernard Low.
    In 1962, he was re-elected to the post, and in 1966, he was named to his second term in this important office by Jennings county voters.
    He was an able and conscientious public servant, well liked not only by the public with whom he dealt, but also by his fellow officers in the courthouse.
    He was right in the middle of conducting the entire reassessment of all property in the county when the illness that was to lead to his death overtook him. While he has been ill, his wife, Mrs. Grace Stearns, the deputy assessor, has directed the reassessment.
    Funeral services will be Friday at 1:30 p.m. at Zion Baptist Church. Burial in Vernon Cemetery.
    Born August 2, 1904, In Illinois, he moved to Indiana with his family in his early childhood. He was a member of the Zion Baptist Church.
    Surviving are his wife, the former Grace Cannon; two sons, Fred and Donald, both of North Vernon; six daughters, Helen Hooker of Indianapolis, Marilyn McIntosh of Paris Crossing, Katherine Zech of Rt. 4, North Vernon, Alice Edmundson of Lawrenceburg, Sandra Gillespie, Lander , Wyo., and Linda Stearns, Rt. 4, North Vernon; his mother, Mrs, Lily Stearns, Rt. 2, North Vernon; two brothers, Wayne Stearns, Oregon, and Stanley Stearns of Connersville; three sisters, Mrs. Wilma Miller, California, and Mrs. Hilda Carey, Rt. 2, North Vernon; and 20 grandchildren.

North Vernon Sun - March 9, 1981
Mrs. Hilda Cary dies on Monday
    Mrs. Hilda Cary, 77, 52 Long Street, North Vernon, died Monday at the Jennings Community Hospital.
    Born April 16, 1903, to Ernest and Lily Davidson Stearns, she married John Cary in 1930 and he survives.
    Also surviving are a son, Kenneth Cary, Route 2, Dupont, three grandchildren; two brothers, Stanley and Wayne Stearns, both of Connersville; two sisters, Mildred Strickland and Wilma Miller, both of California. One brother and one sister preceded her in death.
    Mrs. Cary was employed at the Musvatatuck State Hospital as an attendant from 1959-1972 when she retired. She was a member of the Freedom Baptist Church.
    Friends may call at Diekoff & Vance Funeral Chapel Wednesday after 8:00 p.m. Funeral services will be held at 1:30 p.m. Thursday at Freedom Baptist Church with burial in Vernon Cemetery.

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Mr. & Mrs. Isaac Taylor Stearns (Mary Alice Poole) at their Golden Wedding Anniversary. Parents of Ernest Avery Stearns, the husband of Lily (Davidson) Stearns.

North Vernon Plain Dealer & Republican - May 20, 1915, Page 1
GOLDEN WEDDING ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATED BY MR. AND MRS. STEARNS

    Tuesday, April 27th, marked the fiftieth anniversary of the marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Taylor Stearns, of this city. The day was celebrated in a quiet, homelike, manner, at their home near this city. Mr. and Mrs. Stearns were born and raised in Jennings County and while quite young plighted their troth to each other and from then until now, cupid has continued to weave his golden skein of love about them, so that after fifty years of sunshine and shadow they are devoted as though their life journey were one continuous honey-moon. They have six children, seventeen grand children and one great-grand-child. All but one of their children were present to greet their beloved parents on this day. Mrs. Florence Reynolds, of Banning, California, was unable to attend the home gathering on account of poor health. Of course, this cast a shadow over the otherwise happy day. At eleven o'clock a scripture reading was given by Ethel Davis, after which a short talk and a beautiful prayer was offered for a blessing on those present and also for the loved one so far away yet so near in love and memory. A bountiful dinner was served at 11:30 and the afternoon was spent in conversation among the grown ups and happy childhood games among the children. Mr. and Mrs. Stearns received several nice presents in keeping with a golden wedding and some very pretty floral offerings of cut flowers and potted plants. Those present were: Will Stearns and family, of near Queensville; Ernes(t)e Stearns and family, of Ochs' Ford. Vernon Township; Mrs. Ella Facker and daughter, Opal; of Sanger, Texas; Mr. and Mrs. Frank Wildey, of Kiefer, Oklahoma; Clifford Stearns, of Prue, Oklahoma; Mr. and Mrs. Rolla Davis, Rena and Irene Stearns, Miss Ethel Davis and Mrs. O'Hora. All the grandchildren were present except Fay Facker and Miss Mabel Dodson, of Sanger, Texas, and the great-grandchild, Milton Dodson. In the evening the guests departed wishing Mr. and Mrs. Stearns happiness through the remainder of life's journey.

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