During the civil war a number of families came, settling along the Little Blue and in the fertile valleys of Rose, Cub, and Swan creeks. In 1862 Ives Marks settled on Rose creek, near the present town of Reynolds, and built a small sawmill and church. He organized the first Sunday school at Big Sandy.
The first election for county officers was held in 1863. D. L. Marks was elected county clerk, T. J. Holt, county treasurer, Ed. Farrell, county judge. In November, 1868, Ives Marks was elected county treasurer. If a person was unable to pay his entire tax, he would accept a part, issue a receipt, and take a note for the balance. Sometimes he would give the note back so that the party would know when it fell due. He drove around the county collecting taxes, and kept his funds in a candle box. He drove to Lincoln in his one-horse cart, telling everyone he met that he was Rev. Ives Marks, treasurer of Jefferson county, and that he had five hundred dollars in that box which he was taking to the state treasurer.
Fairbury was laid out in August, 1869, by W. G. McDowell and J. B. Mattingly. Immediately after the survey Sidney Mason built the first house upon the townsite of Fairbury, on the corner northwest of the public square, where now stands the U. S. postoffice. Mrs. Mason kept boarders, and advertised that her table was loaded with all the delicacies the market afforded, and I can testify from personal experience that the common food our market did afford was transformed into delicacies by the magic of her cooking. Mrs. Mason has lived in Fairbury ever since the town was staked out, and now (1915), in her ninety-sixth year, is keeping her own house and performing all the duties of the home cheerfully and happily.
Mrs. Mason's grandson, Claiborn L. Shader, son of Mr. and Mrs. A. L. Shader, now of Lincoln, was the first child born in Fairbury.
One of the most vivid and pleasant memories that comes to me after the lapse of forty-five years is that of a boy, tired and footsore from a hundred-mile walk from the Missouri river, standing on the hill where the traveler from the east first sees the valley of the Little Blue, looking down on a little group of about a dozen houses—the village of Fairbury. This was in the summer of 1870, and was my first view of the town that was ever after to be my home.
On the second floor of Thomas & Champlin's store I found George Cross and my brother, Harry Hansen, running off the Fairbury Gazette, alternating in inking the types with the old-fashioned roller and yanking the lever of the old-fashioned hand press. This was about the first issue of the Gazette entirely printed at home. The first issues were set up at home, hauled to Beatrice in a lumber wagon, and printed in the office of the Beatrice Express, until the press arrived in Fairbury.
When subscriptions were mostly paid in wood, butter, squash, and turnips, you can imagine what a time Mr. Cross had in skirmishing around for cash to pay for paper and ink, and the wages of a printer; so he decided if the paper was to survive and build up the country, he must have a printer for a partner, and he sold a half interest in the Gazette to my brother and me. The principal source of our revenue was from printing the commissioners' proceedings and the delinquent tax list, taking our pay in county warrants. These warrants drew ten per cent interest, were paid in a year, and we sold them to Editor Cramb's grandfather for seventy-five cents on the dollar. On that basis they yielded him forty per cent per annum—too low a rate, we thought, to justify holding.
Prairie grass grew luxuriantly in the streets. There were not enough buildings around the public square to mark it. On the west side were three one-story buildings, the best one still standing, now owned by Wm. Christian and used as a confectionery; it was then the office of the county clerk and board of county commissioners. The second was the pioneer store of John Brown, his office as justice of the peace, and his home; the third was a shanty covered with tarred paper, the office and home of Dr. Showalter, physician, surgeon, politician, and sometimes exhorter; and a past master he was in them all. On the north side were two of the same class of buildings, one occupied by Mr. McCaffery, whose principal business was selling a vile brand of whiskey labeled Hostetter's Bitters, and the other was Wesley Bailey's drug store and postoffice. George Cross had the honor of being postmaster, but Wes drew the entire salary of four dollars and sixteen cents per month, for services as deputy and rent for the office. On the east side there was but one building, Thomas & Champlin's Farmers' store. On the south side there was nothing. On the south half of the square was our ball ground. Men were at work on the foundation of the Methodist church, the first church in Fairbury. We were short on church buildings but long on religious discussions.
Where the city hall now stands were the ruins of the dugout in which Judge Boyle and family had lived the previous winter. He had built a more stately mansion of native cottonwood lumber—his home, law and real-estate office. M. H. Weeks had for sale a few loads of lumber in his yard on the corner northeast of the square, hauled from Waterville by team, a distance of forty-five miles. All supplies were hauled from Waterville, the nearest railroad station, and it took nearly a week to make the round trip. Judge Mattingly was running a sawmill near the river, cutting the native cottonwoods into dimension lumber and common boards.
The Otoe Indians, whose reservation was on the east line of the county, camped on the public square going out on their annual buffalo hunts. The boys spent the evenings with them in their tents playing seven-up, penny a game, always letting the Indians win. They went out on their last hunt in the fall of 1874, and traveled four hundred miles before finding any buffalo. The animals were scarce by reason of their indiscriminate slaughter by hunters, and the Otoes returned in February, 1875, with the "jerked" meat and hides of only fifteen buffalo.