Story of the Woods: Lewis Beck, Blue Creek Pioneer
The following story was written about 1926. The typed page was marked at the bottom “Property of N.E. Harper, Paulding Ohio 1928.” The story and photograph were acquired from the Center for Archival Collections at Bowling Green State University.
TO LOVERS OF THE ANTIQUE:
Memories of the cabin days, with the plank kitchen, the Sycamore gum smoke house, the deer horns, and powder horn. Paulding County still holds one such unmatchable scene. The story follows:
It was on a raw, wet March day that a hoary bearded large man entered the writer’s store and said, “show me the heaviest cow hide shoe you have, size eleven.” Looking me straight in the eye he said, “Don’t you know me anymore? My name is Beck. Lewis Beck, the old pioneer of Bluecreek Township.”
I said, “Sure, you are the man that lived neighbor to Jim Barnhill.”
“Yes, and I built my cabin in 1874 and am still living in it and expect to die in it. It is going to be a tight race for she is bulging out on one side but I have some strong props on her.”
I procured the shoes for him; he pulled a cold bare foot out of a thin wet shoe, stating that he never had any use for socks. But after some strong argument I induced him to put on a pair of heavy socks. The deal being made he wore the new outfit home.
During the fitting of the shoes, the conversation ran something like this:
“How old are you now, Mr. Beck?”
“I am 78.”
“Did you ever shoot any deer?”
“I got my share.”
“Do you still have your old deer rifle?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Any deer horns hanging around your cabin?”
“Plenty of them. I am keeping them for the children. My family is raised and gone and I am alone.”
I told him I was coming over some day to take pictures of him and his place. I thought strange that he made no reply and after talking it over with one of his old neighbors who resides in Paulding, on the following October we concluded to pay him a brief visit and get some snap shots. Fortunately for us on our arrival at the home we found his married daughter there sweeping up the rag carpets and adding new coats of white wash to the rooms, etc.
We received a hearty welcome and soon had a picture of Mr. Beck with deer horns and rifle in hands standing with his daughter in front of the cabin door. In the next picture he is standing with rifle in hand and the little dog at his feet. We then took a picture of Mr. Beck and Mr. Grooms standing by the plank kitchen.
We then went around the house to the old smoke house there Mr. Beck removed his hat and I believe this to be one of the rarest antique pictures in existence.
Mr. Beck remarked, “I wish I had some of the good hams I had stole out of that gum.”
A peek into the living room revealed the old cook stove with the two long hind legs, the low down ceiling logs and plank upper floor covered with pure white wash, the cozy reading corner with lamp and easy chair. Mr. Beck can entertain you on any subject you wish to discuss from hunting wild bees and honey to a trip to the White House and meeting the President.
The old log stable is a wreck, but who cares; the logs are there, he needs no horse. The old open well is standing there full of water and uncovered. It is good enough. The tall pear trees in the front yard are loaded with fruit and when the fruit strikes the ground the juice flies. Oh, My! The country store is a mile and half away where he frequently walks for his supplies and to exchange notes with neighbors.
Mr. Beck is now past eighty years of age and going strong and occasionally adds a new log prop to the east side of his cabin. We trust that this little sketch in no way reflects unkindness to this splendid old pioneer or his loyal family, friends, or relation.
The October haze is gathering in the west and the pink and purple are blending for a perfect sunset. The shadows are lengthening. The mist is hanging over the silent meadows; the goldenrod is nodding along the highway and we are speeding home.
Hand-written at the bottom of the page: Lewis Beck died in September 1928, aged 81 years. The old cabin has fallen.