A. J. Jack Wilbourn came to Borden County with his father/mother J. W./Emmie Wilbourn and brother/sister-in-law J. I./Louvina Wilbourn. Jacks life was full of tragedy. Pictured are the gravestones of two of his children, Allie and Elmer who both died from burns. Allies dress caught fire while prickly pear was burning. According to family history, there was a sister also burned but there is not a gravestone for her. Allie died in 1894. Elmers story is that he rolled off of his bed into the pan of coals that were placed beside his bed for warmth. (a typical custom at the time). He died in 1897. These gravestones are from the Gail Cemetery and located very near their Grandparents (J. W. and Emmie) burial site. The following is a poem written by Jack and published in a newspaper in 1904. (Thanks Norman Wayne Brown for sending it) The poem sums up the hardships that homesteaders faced while trying to make a living in a harsh environment. ON A SCHOOL LAND CLAIM My name Ill not tell; a bachlor I am, Im keeping old bache on an elegant plan, You will find me out west at the foot of the plains, A-starving to death on a school land claim. My home is built of natural soil, Its walls are erect according to Hoyle, The roof has no pitch, but is level and plain And I always get wet when it happens to rain. CHORUS Hurrah, for Borden county, the land of the free, The home of the grasshopper, the bed bug and the flea. Ill sing to its praise, Ill tell of its fame, While starving to death on a school land claim. My clothes are ragged, my language is rough; My bread is case hardened and solid and though; My dough is scattered all over the room, And the flour gets scared at the sight of a broom. My dishes are scattered all over the bed, They are covered with sorghum and flap-jack bread, Oh, I save time, I live at my ease, On common soup, sorghum, old bacon and peas. CHORUS Then come to Borden County, heres a home for you, Where you can live on your petrified gall, Where the sun never sets, but sweetly remains, How happy I feel when I craw into bed, The rattle snakes rattle a tune in my head, and the gay little centipede, void of all fear, Crawls over my neck and down into my ear, And the little bed bugs, so cunning and bright, They keep you a laughin two thirds of the night, And the smart little flea with sharp tacks in his toes, Says, why dont you scratch me all over the nose. CHORUS Hurrah for Borden County! Hurrah of the west! Where the farmers and laborers are always at rest. Where youve nothing to do but sweetly remain, and starve like a man on a school land claim. How happy I feel on my school land claim. Ive nothing to lose, Ive nothing to gain, Ive nothing to eat, Ive nothing to wear, So nothing for nothing is honest and fair. Oh, its here I am settled and here I will stay, My moneys all gone and I cant get away; There is nothing that makes a man hard and profane, Like starving to death on a school land claim. CHORUS Then come to Borden County, where blizzards arise. Where the sun never sets and the flea never dies. Come join in is chorus and tell of its fame, While starving to death on school land claim. Now dont get discourage you poor hungry men, For we are as happy as pigs in a pen, Just stick to your claims and battle the fleas, and trust to the Master to send you a breeze, But as for myself, Ill no longer remain, To starve like a man on a school land claim. Farewell to Borden County! Farewell to the west! Im going back east, to the girl I love best, Ill stop in the timber and get me a wife, And live on corn dodger the rest of my life.
Posted on: Tue, 06 Jan 2015 21:39:56 +0000
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