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The courageous story of Nellie Stanton
Part 1
Stanton1
This may have been the type of barn that was at Nellie’s Home. Notice the little girl in the loft door. The postcard is postmarked Platteville and reads as follows: “8/23/1907. Dear Earl: This is a picture of our new hay-barn. Richard is on the load and see if you can find papa and J.E. James.”
Part 1
The Grant County Genealogical Society’s publication, Grant County Heritage, is produced by Karen Reese.  The May 2019 issue contains a poignant article by a girl named Nellie Stanton.  Nellie died April 21, 1947 at the age of 58.  Karen believes the article was from the Platteville paper along with a picture of Nellie and her mother.
Her father Warner’s farm was just southwest of the Cornelia church in Harrison Township.
“My Life Story: Nellie Stanton”
“As a number of my friends have requested me to write a story of my life, I will make an effort to comply with their wishes, but I fear it will be a poor attempt, as I have not had the privilege of an education, owing to my great misfortune, which happened when I was eight years old [1897?].  We lived on a farm near Cornelia in the township of Harrison.  My father and mother were hard working people.  I had four brothers older than I.  I being the only daughter.  When I was six, a baby brother came to our home.  Imagine the joy of the little sister when she was told of the baby brother and she felt very responsible for his care and comfort and immediately began helping to amuse and care for him, thus helping the busy mother.
“The elder brothers were all employed with their chores about the farm, never having many idle hours while out of school, for father believed in keeping every one busy making themselves useful, thus keeping them out of mischief.  We found no time for mischief in those busy but happy days, but always found play time for I made play out of my work, and thus enjoyed whatever task I was called upon to do.  I was a very strong child; when baby Virgil was one year old I carried him with an umbrella over him to my aunt Addie’s home which was a quarter mile from where we lived and carried him back home and was gone so short a time, mother had not missed us.
“I began attending school in the spring when I was seven.  We lived a mile and a half from the Center school and I could not attend very regularly, especially when the winter snows began to fall.  I well remember the first snow storm of the winter.  When I awoke in the morning I was delighted as most children are at the prospect of a sleighride down a hill and we had such fine long hills surrounding our school house on all sides and the school building was in a deep valley, a beautiful and romantic place in summer when the hills were covered with flowers and ferns and large rocks protruded from the hillsides, draped with moss and vines, where my playmates and I would play house during the noon hours and have picnic lunch on the rocks under the large shade trees, but when the snow fell those sports would all be changed, to coasting downhill and skating as there were numerous branches near the schoolhouse.  But on that first day of snow it became so deep it would have been impossible for me to wade through it if it had not been for a line of brothers who marched ahead, breaking a track for me to follow.  When I reached home my clothes were frozen, and I was obliged to remain at home until better weather.  But I regretted very much when I must miss school for I was very anxious to get the most headmarks of any one in my class, but there as a poor chance for me to succeed as I could not attend regularly and one little girl in my class lived very near the school and was able to attend every day.  On that last day I proved to be just one mark behind, so she received the prize of a nice book and I was very much disappointed that I was so near yet failed and I thought it was not just, so I was unable to restrain my tears.  My teacher, Miss Dora Willis, saw me crying and inquired the cause.  When I explained she said it was rather unfair as it was no fault of mine that I had failed and she gave me a nice lead pencil of which I was very proud for I felt I merited it.  But my school days were soon to end though I knew it not, and on the last day of August when I was eight years old, the blow fell that blighted my entire life and put an end to all childish joys and I began my life of pain and disappointments.”

To be continued