Their two first born were boys, and one daughter (the third) died as an infant of three months. However, if they were slightly disappointed, I was given as much love as any of my older sisters, and they never tried to make me into a boy, or treat me as such. And since I was a healthy, happy nine pounder, they felt very fortunate, I'm sure. 

My parents had migrated to Kansas by covered wagon many years before and their first home was a log house, with a floor, and more conveniences than many had at that time. Later, they built a one room of native stone, a short distance from the original home. Then, in the fall of 1887, a new six room frame house was built, with porcelain like dazzlingly white walls throughout the lower floor. Huge stones, flat and 4' or 5' long were placed by the back door, forming a walk. I remember these as when I was still young, I liked to sweep and scrub them clean, especially after my father had spent the evening whittling there. I was the baby for a long time as a son born nearly three years after my birth, lived but six days, and my mother felt as badly as if he were the only child. So, until another brother was born when I was about 6 years old, I was my mother's baby, and didn't want her out of my sight for any length of time. And, from what I have been told, I was really selfish, not wanting to share her with my older sister, so 'gave' her our father, often speaking of him as "Delia's papa." Of course I loved him, but not with the devotion I gave my mother. I was really fortunate to have been born to such good parents. We were never very well to do, but there was always plenty of food and as nice, or nicer, clothes than others who lived in our country neighborhood. There were always games to play, books to read, and an organ for music. My mother was gifted with a fine knowledge of sewing, knitting, and making lace, so all our "Sunday" clothes were adorned in some way. Even underclothing made from bleached white flour sacks had dainty lace edging. We took all these things for granted, but when I became older, I realized the thought and love that went into their fashioning.

The fall after I was 5 years old, I started school, walking the three quarter mile with my older brothers and sisters. My teacher was Jessie Towne, and my family seemed real proud of the fact that I could spell "Geography" when I started to school. One subject that just came naturally and required no effort on my part. A Methodist minister preached to the small congregation that met in the school house every other Sunday. On other Sundays, my mother was Superintendent of the Sunday School. When I was 12, I became a member of the Methodist Church, and always took the fact quite seriously, as I still do. Most early
memories are faded from my mind entirely, some I seem to remember mainly because I have heard the older ones speak of them. As the time when I say my father hastily coming toward me and I said, "What you going to do pa, what you going to do?" And I don't even know what I had done.

My hair was long, and in braids, and I always envied Delia's curls, though I'm sure I didn't regard it as envy, I just wished I had curls too, and that I'd look pretty in pink. But we didn't have much time for envy or hurts. There were eggs to gather, calves to fees, chips or cobs to be brought in, and dished to do. And in between, always time to play, pick wild flowers, swing, or visit our cousins a mile away. In fact all our early childhood was just a normal, average one with no luxuries but all the necessities and plenty of plain farm food. But several things changed the summer after my 12th birthday. Mate was sent to Colorado where the dry mountain air would help her physically. And in August my oldest brother Sam married Emma Hall from the adjoining county, and less than two weeks later, my 20 year old sister Helen died suddenly after only a few days illness. She was a happy popular girl and always singing. The day of her death, she told us "Good-bye" with no tears and her last words to me were, "Be a good girl, Rachel". But this was a tragedy too much for my mother, so the family went to my mother's old home in Iowa where we spent a year, one of the happiest most carefree of my childhood. 

We lived in a small town with several girls and boys my age, and I didn't even have any chores to do. My mother regained her health considerably, and my oldest sister was married to Earl Larkin. She was primary teacher in the school there. About my 14th birthday, papa, mama, Edwin and I returned to the farm in Kansas and Edwin and I back to the country school. That year, I had my first date, with the admonition it was also to be the last for some time. Nothing much happened that year, but the following year I went to stay with Mate while Earl was running a threshing crew, they had also returned to Kansas when her school ended. Mate was expecting her first child and I was quite proud to help make the little garments Elma wore when she was born in November. The school was more than two miles from them, so I drove a horse hitched to a small buggy. Eighteen year old Dan Weaver was at their home a great deal and I'm sure he liked me as much as I liked him. He was killed by a tornado the following summer. When Elma was 14 months old, Mate gave birth to a little boy, and Earl died six weeks after his birth, so Mate was left with two children to raise alone. I spent a lot of time with them after she moved to Phillipsburg. Phillipsburg was our County seat, 18 miles from our farm, and we lived there off and on when papa was Clerk of the Court, or Deputy Sheriff. 

My first year in High School, I kept house for my brother Lyman, who was a college graduate and Editor of a County paper. The rest of the family were on the farm, and the one exciting episode of that year was a mentally deranged man following four of us girls to the High School building. However, we didn't get as far as the school as we were really scared, and when one girl ran, he followed her, but by that time some County officers had been alerted and they took him to jail where he had to be put in a straight jacket. The next few weeks were rather nightmarish, and I'd jump at any sound.

Another tragedy struck our family when Lyman was drowned in a lake near Phillipsburg in 1906. Sam, Lyman, Mate, and Helen always seemed to be having a grand time together, and with other cousins and friends their age that I could hardly wait to grow up so I could be just like them, but before I was 20, two of them had passed on, and so many deaths in our family were not conductive to a happy girlhood. Youth does not forget, but it does have a way of returning to normal and getting a lot from live, as I did when I stayed with Mate in Phillipsburg and Elma became my favorite neice. I enjoyed school and my Epworth League friends. There were Fairs, picnics, buggy rides, dates, just as girls do today. I had a Sunday School class of girls, sang in the choir and at many funerals. Before I finished High School, I decided to teach, at least long enough so I could but a new piano, so instead of High School, I studied harder than ever, taking the eighth grade all over, preparing myself to teach pupils in or below that grade. A certificate was required so I had to take some Normal training also in Theory & Practice and History of Kansas which I had not previously.

The first school I taught was a six month term at $45 a month and I boarded with a family two miles from school who had three children who were my pupils. The house was small and Edith and I slept in one bed, the two younger boys in the same room in a bed with the high head board making a little privacy as it was placed a few feet from our bed with the head board on our side. I paid them the sum of $10 for bed and board, which left me $35 to buy the necessities of life and $15 monthly payments on my new $250 piano. I walked to school, built my own fire and was my own janitor. Two of my 8th graders who took the State examinations in the spring, successfully passed and one of the boys years later became one of our Kansas State Representatives. One of my 4th grade boys was accidently killed by a shot from a 22 rifle. At recess, I went outside and played games with my pupils, but after I rang the bell for school, I was their teacher, not playmate. This helped me overcome a great deal of my shyness and inferiority complex, for now, for the first time in my life, I was the leader and responsible for the education and welfare of all my pupils from 9:00 until 4:00, five days a week. And I took my responsibility seriously.

When I was about 18 years old I had my first real sick spell, which almost became my last. I had diphtheria, and as far as we knew, mine was the only case where a physician was called. I was at Mate's in Phillipsburg and my mother came to stay with her two children downstairs while we were quarantines upstairs. One of the school boys who was rather special, sent me a letter each day and brought flowers in a boyish bouquet the first Sunday after the quarantine, calling frequently as it was many weeks before I could get out. On account of a heart weakness and paralysis caused by the poison in my system, my family had me to with Mate and Sam and their families to Eastern Colorado, where they were to homestead. The distance was about 250 miles and we had a covered wagon and a hayrack with household goods. A bed with springs was placed in the back of the wagon, or springs attached to the sides of the wagon made a bed, and I spent much time laying on it, getting out to walk a little with the five children at times. This was really an enjoyable experience and I enjoyed the campfires and food cooked on them. In those days no one ever needed pills to make them sleep. All we needed was a place to lie down and a blanket for warmth. The teams were driven slowly, and if the weather was bad we camped until it was better, so it took a little time to reach our destination. Soon after Mate and Sam took adjoining homesteads, I returned to Kansas by train. Now I had one year's experience in teaching so I could have a second grade certificate, providing I passed all the tests. It was good for two years of teaching but I taught just one more term in Kansas. That year I boarded with a family with no school children and I had a cozy bedroom with a big fat feather bed which I thoroughly enjoyed. The school was a little nearer to town, and I had less distance to walk. Mrs. Crider was an excellent cook and I thrived on the good food, weighing around 117 all winter. Again I had all grades with two young men attending school simply because they had never passed the 8th grade and there was nothing to do in the winter time. This created other problems as they were almost as old as I was, and one had a spanking team and covered carriage which I could have derived many benefits from, if he hadn't been my pupil. He was nothing to be But a pupil, but it would have been real handy to be escorted to town any time I wished to go. We were paired off a few times and at Christmas, he gave me a lovely heart shaped pin with pink sapphires. I'm glad I didn't take advantage of free rides though. His family never liked me quite so well when I refused. 

When this school ended, I went to Ellsworth, Kansas, where my father was Superintendent of the Soldier's Widows Home. I kept house for my parents there and went from there to Salina, Kansas to attend school for awhile. Here we were taught some of the social amenities as well as our studied, and I had piano lessons as well. It was there while we were living in Ellsworth that a family of five was brutally murdered, their funeral being held in the Methodist Church. Since I had been singing alto in the choir there, I was asked to be one of the alto singers in a double quartet. This was an experience I never forgot, and a murder that was never solved.

In the spring of 1914, I came to Montana with Byron and Delia, the twins and a hired man, went by buggy and wagon to Dawson County where we homesteaded. My 320 acres cornered with that of Byron and Delia, and I held squatter's rights as it wasn't yet open for filing. I had money for a 12' x 14' shingled board homestead shack, which the Cates men built for me. With a blue knit rag rug my mother made, blue pieced quilt that she and I had quilted, and blue cretonne curtains at my small windows, it looked quite neat and livable. I used to walk to it from Byron's during the day and the few nights I stayed there, the twins stayed with me, and I was always afraid. But the fall after I arrived in Dawson County, Walter and I decided we would face the ups and downs of life together, and instead of each filing on a piece of land and have the expense of two places to improve enough for getting a patent to the place, Walter sold the improvements on mine where he plowed, fenced and seeded 40 acres to oats. The oats were hailed out. And I might say the improvements on his place was one sod house with door and window! Homesteads are free, but we found considerable expense is involved, beside actual living. I taught a three month term of school in a homesteader's cabin the winter before we were married. As I remember, I received $75 for each of the three months, giving Delia $3.50 a week for my board.

Walter and I went to Ingomar, Montana with a team and wagon to get out "grubstake", harness and such items. It was cold and there was snow. We stayed the night at a half-way place where I slept with a woman and her little girl, Walter slept with the men. We paid .50 cents for our meals. When we got to Ingomar, the daily train had gone so we had to stay there until the next day, when we went to Miles City. There, on March 4, 1915, I became Mrs. Walter Cates, and we did share all the ups and downs for almost 39 years. I taught another term of three months, Walter helped during lambing season earning pretty good money, and one winter he clerked in a grocery store in Roundup, together we managed to make enough money to get by, and make our improvements. When Walter went to the "cedars", about 30 miles away, I rode with him on the running gear of a lumber wagon, and on the cedar posts coming home. I couldn't really help except as a companion. It was hot in the cedars and water there was alkali. We depended on canned tomatoes to quench our thirst.  At night, we slept the sleep of the just in a teepee just large enough for a bed. The following year he made the trip with Byron, and I slept at Delia's, the twins staying with me during the day. Just a day or two after they returned, Jack put in his appearance, about three weeks earlier than we expected. Luckily a doctor who had come there for his health, lived a few miles from us and he ushered Jack into the world, after being with us all night. Delia was his competent helper, and always felt that Jack was part hers.

That fall (1916), Byron and Delia moved to New York State, so Walter, Jack and I moved into their three room sod house, which was both neat and warm with a well of good water near the back door. We spent about 18 months there, and in all that time I didn't go to town, and sometimes didn't see a woman for weeks at a time. The summer Jack was two years old (1918), I taught a three months term of school at Edwards, and a neighbor girl did the work and cared for Jack during the day, I didn't enjoy the school much, as my interests were at home. Nor did I especially enjoy riding horseback to and from school each day, four miles each way, but it was war time and teachers were scarce. When we were expecting our second child in 1919, I preferred staying on the homestead, everyone thought I should be where I could get medical care. So we left the homestead and Clayton was born at Mate's in Phillipsburg, Kansas. Walter's health wasn't good there and we began a "series" of moving from place to place, Colorado, Wyoming, and finally back to Montana in 1937. Until Walter died in 1953, we continued to have the ups and downs that we long ago decided to share together, some good, some bad, but always each other. And as long as you have each other, the down's don't seem so bad. It was while we were living in Colorado that our third child was born. This was 1924 and Jack was 8 years old and in school. The first day after her birth, he brought several playmates home to see his new sister. Colorado was a lovely place to live, though harder to make a living. There were beautiful mountains with bright colored leaves and flowers in the fall. The little streams of water flowed fast and made a cheerful sound. We raised a garden and had fruit and jelly as well as our own chicken, eggs and milk, so we had a substantial diet. However, on account of lack of work, we left there, also leaving many friends behind. 

Contributed by Julie Robst, a descendant.