In the fall of 1873 Col. Thomas Harbine began the erection of the first bank building, a one-story frame structure on the east side of the square. George Cross was the bank's first customer, and purchased draft No. 1. Upon the death of Col. Harbine's son John, in August, 1875, I became cashier, bookkeeper, teller, and janitor of the "Banking House of Thomas Harbine." In 1882 this bank incorporated under the state banking law as the "Harbine Bank of Fairbury," and I have been connected with it in various capacities ever since.
We had our pleasures in those pioneer days, but had to make them ourselves. Theatrical troupes never visited us—we were not on the circuit—but we had a dramatic company of our own. Mr. Charles B. Slocumb, afterwards famous as the author of the Slocumb high license law, was the star actor in the club. A local critic commenting on our first play said: "Mr. Slocumb as a confirmed drunkard was a decided success. W. W. Watson as a temperance lecturer was eminently fitted for his part. G. W. Hansen as a hard-up student would have elicited applause on any stage."
Election days in those "good old times" gave employment to an army of workers sent out by candidates to every precinct to make votes, and to see that those bought or promised were delivered. John McT. Gibson of Gibson precinct, farmer, green-backer, and poet, read an original poem at a Fourth of July celebration forty years ago, one verse of which gives us an idea of the bitterness of feeling existing in the political parties of that time:
"Unholy Mammon can unlock the doors
Of congress halls and legislative floors,
Dictate decisions of its judges bought,
And poison all the avenues of thought.
Metes out to labor miseries untold,
And grasps forever at a crown of gold."
I do not care to live too much in the past; but when the day's work is done, I love to draw aside the curtain that hides the intervening years, and in memory live over again Fairbury's pioneer days of the early seventies. Grasshoppers and drouth brought real adversity then, for, unlike the present, we were unprepared for the lean years. But we had hope and energy, and pulled together for the settlement of our county and the growth and prosperity of Fairbury.
We dreamed then of the days to come—when bridges should span the streams, and farm houses and fields of grain and corn should break the monotony of the silent, unending prairie. We were always working for better things to come—for the future. The delectable mountains were always ahead of us—would we ever reach them?
THE EARLIEST ROMANCE OF JEFFERSON COUNTY, NEBRASKA
By George W. Hansen
One hundred and three years ago Hannah Norton was born "away down east" in the state of Maine. Hannah married Jason Plummer, and in the year 1844, seized by the wanderlust, they decided to move west. One morning their little daughter Eleanor, four years old, stood outside the cabin door with her rag doll pressed tightly to her breast, and watched her parents load their household goods into the heavy, covered wagon, yoke up the oxen, and make preparations for a long journey.