The Brooks house: 

This is as much as I know about the Brooks house so far.  It was built in 1850 by a free black man named Etienne Cashmere.  Like so many of the folks in Ste. Genevieve at the time, Mr. Cashmere was of mixed race (French and African American).  I’m Missing the history from 1850-1890 

so that’s where we’ll pick it up.  Mr. Bill Brooks was born around 1893 in Ste. Genevieve, Mo.  He was at the right age to serve his country during WW I (The Great War).  His unit was in combat in France which was highly unusual for that time.  Colored troops were usually relegated to the service areas of the military, such as cooks, etc.  Mr. Brook’s unit saw heavy combat and he came home highly decorated.  He married a young lady named Johanna McNabb and they had three sons.  Mrs Brooks was very well educated and was a college professor at Harris-Stowe University in St. Louis, Mo.  She also taught the black children of Ste. Genevieve in this house and at the little black school on the other end of town.  She decided to go to nursing school in St. Louis and was tragically killed in a car accident on her way home one night.  Mr. Brooks never remarried and was left with three small sons to raise on his own.  They were aged six, four and two at the time of her death.  Education was very important to the Brooks family, but they could only attend school to the eighth grade in St. Genevieve due to segregation.  When it was time to go to high school, Mr. Brooks put the boys on a Greyhound bus every morning and sent them to Festus, Mo., 35 miles north of Ste. Genevieve where they attended the black high school. Wanting to achieve more, they all entered the military to get college educations through the GI bill.  The oldest son, Bill Jr. became the Vice President of GM in Detroit and was also appointed as Assistant Secretary of Labor under President George H.W. Bush.  The middle son Sydney was great at Football and went to USC where he mentored a young player named O.J.Simpson.  O.J. named his first born daughter “Sydney Brook” after his mentor.  Youngest son Jack joined the Air Force and worked at the Pentagon for a time before returning to St. Louis to work for McDonnell Douglas.  The neatest thing is my small connection to this wonderful family.  I went to a small, private school in Festus and we needed a gym facility for our sports programs.  My school bought the old high school for colored students and I was watching games and doing high school plays in the same building these boys attended school. So I call the Brooks lHouse my “miracle” and I am so honored to have played a small part in saving this historic home.

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Hannah Davis Boxes

“A place for everything and everything in its place”

If you lived in earlier times in America, closets were a rarity.  If you think the IRS is a pain now, early Americans were taxed on closets! Anything with a door in a wall was considered a room, rooms were taxed as part of the house. No wonder folks had so many cupboards, chests, boxes, etc. Clothes were stored in a linen press, blankets and quilts in a blanket chest, sugar in a sugar chest (with a lock!), pies in a pie safe- you get the picture!

Back in 1784 a baby girl was born in Jaffrey, New Hampshire. Her name was Hannah Davis and she didn’t have a very easy life.  By the age of 34, she was unmarried and both parents were passed away.   Who would support her? She quickly realized she would have to depend on herself. Possessing that wonderful trait called “yankee ingenuity” she started making wonderful boxes from strips of green pine wood.  She even invented a foot powered slicing machine to cut the strips of wood faster. She used wallpaper scraps for the outside and lined the inside with newspaper gathered from neighbors and friends. With all the hats, collars, gloves and miscellaneous accessories people used, her business grew. She decided it was time to go on the road with her boxes. She loaded up a wagon with various sizes of boxes and headed to the cotton mills of Massachusetts along the Merrimack river. Young female mill workers scarfed them up, putting as one source quoted, “all their worldly goods” inside. They would make a drawstring bag for their box and carry it like a purse. 

 My rendition of Hannah Davis’s boxes are made in the same way, only I use heavy chipboard instead of wood. They are hand sewn and this little group is made with reproduction antique papers and lined on the inside with copies of colonial newspapers. A genuine Hannah Davis box will set you back thousands of dollars while mine are only $28.00 each! Maybe some day mine will be valuable heirlooms as well. I am proud that these boxes have earned me a position in Early American Life Magazines’ Directory of top traditional American craftsmen!

The History of Floor Cloths

Floor Cloth by Sassasfras Creek Originals

The history of floor cloths is fascinating to me, as is everything about how our
Colonial ancestors lived. They look complicated, but they are more time consuming than difficult. You can be as simple or elaborate as you want depending on your skill level.

Historians believe their history began as early as the Renaissance in France or Italy. They started as table coverings but leave it to those ingenious colonial Americans, they took it to the next level! Early Americans used old ships sails (“waste not, want not”) to paint designs with oil based paints to produce a cloth that was large enough to cover whole rooms of their houses.  Hence the name “oyl cloth”). They were easy to clean, took muddy boots, children, pets, and any other daily wear and tear that could be thrown their way. They kept cold drafts from coming through cracks in your floor. They were cool to walk on barefoot in the summer time. And when they wore out, you could easily make another!

Floor Cloth by Sassafras Creek Originals

Today, it is easier than ever to make your own with the wonderful latex paints and tools we have available. I made mine from scratch with a large roll of cotton canvas from an art supply store.  I had to prime mine with a primer, but you can buy pre-primed canvas at Hobby Lobby. Buy some latex porch and floor paint, figure out your design and buy lots of frog tape! Start simple with maybe a checkerboard pattern or buy some stencils and stencil one. Stenciled floorcloths were especially popular in the early 19th century and were found in taverns and homes throughout New England. I buy all of my stencils from mbhistoricdecor.com. They have exact replicas of 18th and 19th century stencils.

There are all sorts of detailed web sites showing you how to make your own so get started! You’ll be amazed at what you can do! Make a small one and put it in front of the kitchen sink, or if you can’t fit a rug under your doors, put a floor cloth there. You’ll be walking in the footsteps of your ancestors!

 

I made this floor cloth about 20 years ago. They just get better with age!

Penny dolls

I never really was a doll lover as a child. I had a few Barbie dolls, but I always cut their hair off. I was a bit of a tomboy and would rather play cowboys and Indians outside, but occasionally, when the weather wasn’t great or I was sick, I would play with Barbie. I absolutely did not play with baby dolls! My Mom had her antique ones with cracked faces that were creepy.  They scared me and then my sons when they would spend the night with their grandparents. Two generations of scarred and scared kids! So why do I like dolls now I wonder? Well, not all dolls, but the sweet, simple homemade kind. I guess they would be considered historic dolls. My favorite is the penny doll. So called because they were inexpensive. Some are so tiny, they will fit inside a walnut shell! They were simple, wooden dolls and were sold undressed so little girls could learn to sew clothes. Some were made by hand by loving fathers or grandfathers, others were store bought. They remind me of the simpler time period I love so well. In 2016, I went to Colonial Williamsburg and there she was- all alone in a glass case, just waiting for me. She was on sale, but certainly not a penny! I decided to sleep on it and if she was still there the next day, she would be mine. Obviously, I found her the next day and brought her home with me. I still haven’t named her, although I think I will name her Abigail or Martha, after my favorite two First Ladies or maybe an old fashioned name like Patience to remind me of that virtue of which I am sorely lacking! Whatever her name, she is always smiling at me, always in a good mood and that makes me happy. I will try to be more like her!