Ott - pafg12.htm - Generated by Personal Ancestral File

Descendants of Sylvester Ott

Fifth Generation

(Continued)

193. Fredrick James Ott (John , Isaac , Frederick , Sylvester ) was born^{1, 2, 3, 4, 5} on 26 Sep 1855 in Terre Haute, Vigo County, Indiana. He died^{6, 7} on 10 Feb 1937 in Caldwell, Canyon County, Idaho. He was buried⁸ in Star Cemetery, Ada County, Idaho.

OTT Fred 1910 VanWyckPrecinct244 BOCEN10!! OTT Frederick J. 1911 Filed, Land Claim 20435 BLM
!One story I know is that when Fredrick Ott got his first car he drove it home and was saying "carn sarn it" as he drove it through the barn. He never drove it again and grandma did the driving.
Frederick Ott found in:
Missouri, 1851-1900 Marriage Index
Gender: Male Spouse: Rebecca Hutsell Marriage Date: Sep 08, 1880 County: Laclede More About: This record can be found at the County Court Records, Film # 0944625 - 0944627 </ifa/co_234toc.html> </ifa/co_234toc.html>Data Introduction </ifa/co_234toc.html>

Fredrick married Rebecca Anna Hutsell on 4 Sep 1880 in Laclede, Linn County, Missouri. Rebecca was born^{1, 2, 3} on 1 Jun 1860 in , , Tennessee. She died⁴ on 24 Jun 1934 in Middleton, Canyon County, Idaho. She was buried⁵ on 26 Jun 1934 in Star, Ada County, Idaho.

John Keller was known affectionately as "Uncle Kell". At the age of 62, in 1888 he left Missouri with three of his daughters (Caroline Matthews, Rebecca Ott and Margaret Emmerson) and their families and the John Fincher family in a wagon train for Idaho.
There were 27 people making a five-wagon train. They had some good times and some not so good. Those were days when they had no fuel except buffalo chips with which to cook their food. These were the droppings left by buffaloes and cattle on the desert where wind and sun soon dried them out, making them very useful for fuel when no other kind was available, as they made a quick, hot fire.
There were days when they saw nothing but the ever present tumble weeds rolling restlessly along as homeless and unsettled as they and the never failing prairie dogs.
Once in a while they would see a wild antelope and they drove through great herds of cattle with hundreds and hundreds in a band. These animals belonged to settlers in the desert who turned them out to graze where they soon became wild like the land they inhabited. Knowing they belonged to settlers, they never killed any of them for food.
Sometimes they would drive for miles with not a drop of water in sight but they always carried a supply with them. Lashed on each side of every wagon were large barrels to hold water for the oxen and for cooking purposes. When they came close to water, the stock that was running loose would make a charge ahead of the wagon train as they scented some creek or water hole.
They usually camped early in the evening because there were many mouths to feed, 27 people in the whole train, and they did not have bakeries to fall back upon in case they failed to get their daily baking done. They made good use of Dutch ovens, (large iron utensils like flat kettles with lids.) In these they made light bread, rolls, biscuits and an occasional cake or cobbler. They placed them on hot coals, put the lids on, then heaped the glowing coals around them and also on top. In about 15 minutes their biscuits were brown and fluffy. It took an hour to bake the light bread. The fresh hot bread with sweet fresh butter and milk from the cows which they brought along and meat and potatoes fried in hugh iron kettles and coffee with fresh cream.
The roads were rugged and sometimes being nothing more than a cow's trail with bridges few and far between. When they crossed the Green River in Wyoming it was overflowing. They had to chain the wagon boxes to the running gears of their wagons to keep them from being swept away by the swift current of the water. They drove the ox teams in the river and the men swam their horses and mules on the lower side of the oxen to keep them from going down the river.
They always took the line of least resistance and would have been content to drift with the tide had they not been forced to swim straight across. For persuasion the men had to use a "gore stick," which was a sharp probe made of a long hickory or willow pole with a nail in the end.
The animals were so afraid of these cruel weapons that they usually minded as soon as spoken to. Some of the men stayed in the wagons to help guide the train across until they all got over safely with no accidents. When they came to dry land we corralled our wagons as usual at night when we made camp, but they soon found something was wrong. Their bedding, as well as all of their extra clothing was soaking wet, so they pitched their camp close to the river and built a big camp fire to dry everything out.
That night they experienced the worst storm they had been in since they left Missouri. The wind literally blew the camp to pieces and they had a regular water spout. The gale was so terrific that it blew down one of the tents in which the boys were sleeping. The night was black as ebony. One 12-year-old lad became so frightened and hysterical that he screamed and made a dash for the river. His father, hearing him, hurried after him, catching the boy barely in time to save him from plunging into the boiling current.
In the mornings before they started traveling they would put their cream in a large churn placed in the back of the wagon. The cream would jostle as they jostled along and at night when they'd open up the churn there'd be a nice ball of yellow butter for supper and breakfast.
One evening one of the ladies opened her churn to get her butter and there right on top of the golden ball, sat a very surprised little green frog, stuck fast in his greasy bed.
In spite of the many inconveniences and dangers that beset their journey they had many happy times. When they got supper over and the dishes washed they would gather around the cozy campfire to sing. Everyone from the smallest child to the oldest oldster in the group joined in making those old songs and hymns echo throughout the camp.
Once while traveling along they came to where the road forked, and since there was no sign post, they didn't know which way to go. Two men on horseback were there and they instructed them to take one of the roads saying it was a good road and that it would save several miles of travel. They also assured them that there were good camping grounds along this road, so naturally, they took their advice. When they arrived, however, they found it to be the end of the road instead of one of the main highways. There was a large house that stood close in to the brush and they passed this house. An old woman ran out from the house and grabbed Grandpa Hutsell by the neck and began making over him. Then seeing they had a baby in one wagon, she wanted the child. But of course the mother wouldn't give her up. Then she asked them if they were Christians, and if they would like to have church the next day which was Sunday. They said that would be very nice.
Shortly afterwards the women got out of the wagon and walked on to look around. The first thing they noticed was buzzards and vultures flying overhead above a large hole in the ground which was covered with brush and limbs from trees, and it sounded hollow when they stomped to sound it out. A terrible odor of something dead arose around the hole, and right where they had planned to camp for the night there were parts of burnt wagons and harness and portions of carcasses of some sort.
As soon as the men could slip away they did some exploring, looking for a road to get out and found this to be only a one-way trail where they had been lured down into this small valley and it was now fortified with heavy timbers and guards. There was no way of getting back by the house or to escape any other way. In the darkness of that horrible night they could see small lights like evil eyes, dotting the mountain sides in the many hovels built throughout this little depression. Now they knew they were trapped and they realized that if they could not get out quickly the buzzards would soon be flying over their bodies in that pit too.
Everyone who could shoot a gun got it ready. There was no supper that night but they made a campfire by the wagons where they sat around as though nothing unusual was going on. Two of their newly acquired "neighbors," two hawk eyed villains, came and sat by our fire until midnight and "visited" with our men. They asked questions about the stock and how they corralled them for the night. They told their men how to fix their wagons and where to put the stock, etc. The women all slipped off to the wagons and there they prayed as they had never prayed before, that God would make a way of escape. As soon as those fellows left their camp to return to their huts for the remainder of the night, three of the men got their horses and rode up the step mountain side, trying to find a way out. There was only one way, and that was to make a road where there was none. They had to work stealthily and in inky darkness. Logs had to be rolled, brush cut and rocks moved which required almost super-human effort.
Then they returned to camp and hitched thee yoke of oxen, two spans of mules and one team of horses to one wagon and got it to the top of the precipitous hillside, came back and got another and another until the last one was out, all safe. The sun was just peeping over the horizon when they hauled the last wagon up.
They saw those robbers coming from their various shacks into the camp where they had planned for them to come to "church". As they stood and looked down up that place where buzzards still sailed overhead, and saw those fellows milling around and some of them looking up our way, we all thanked God for delivering us. They heard afterwards that many people were herded into their trap and never heard of again.
They lowered their wagons down the steep mountain on the other side of the abrupt slope into the main highway where the bandits were afraid to attack out in the open.
They journeyed on and one morning another surprise awaited them--twins sons were born to one of John Keller's daughters.
This family and another one remained there for a while, but the rest of them journeyed on. They were traveling one day in a deep canyon and were on a steep hillside, when they met a band of Indians on the war path. The chief raised his hand and said "Stop!"; He held them there for a long time, then as they were leaving the canyon another band of Indians came along and they talked for some time with the first band and finally told us to move on. This was another time when they called upon God to provide a way of escape and He did.
Finally they entered Idaho Territory, followed the black canyon of the Snake, the winding valleys, and the limitless sage of the deserts. When they came to the bench above the site of the little town of Boise-by-the-Fort, the men lowered the wagons with ropes, for there was no road at the rim. The right-of-way for the New York canal was being blasted.
Main street was almost all there was of "Boise City." There were board walks, and a little brick paving. The old railroad depot stood a short way below the sit of the present station. The train (known as the Pony stub from Nampa) came only to the top of the hill. South Boise was mostly a dump heap, but that is where the families camped.
Their journey from Hartsville, Missouri to Boise took four months and four days. The trip for the older folks who had to take thought for provisions, look after the health of the children, care for the horses, the mules, the oxen and old cows, the wagons, etc., had plenty to keep their minds occupied.