"One Room Schoolhouse, Buffalo County, Nebraska 1900."
Those who were able to go to school usually attended every day except for Sunday, from October to May. That way, they could be at home during the main planting and harvesting seasons. In fact, the current school year calendar — with classes during the fall, winter and spring — was designed so that students could attend to their agricultural duties in the summer. Only eight grades were taught, and usually you would have kids in all eight grades in one room of the schoolhouse. Students were frequently required to memorize their lessons, or write on slates.

In 1889, 70 per cent of the Nebraskans lived on farms. Children were expected to help the adults with the farm work. Milking cows and gathering cow or buffalo chips for fuel in the cook stove was a duty for both girls and boys. Girls helped with the cooking, cleaning, mending, gathering eggs, and taking care of the younger children. Boys helped with the planting and harvesting of crops and also helped hunt for food to feed the family. Yet there was also time for fun.

References
● Written by Abbie Stewart
● Photo by Solomon D. Butcher

"Just a few more inches and I could slap the kid with my paw...get her for waking me up from my nap!"
- Another photo of Catherine and her cats. Photo by her father Andy Prokh http://www.liveinternet.ru/tags/andy+prokh/

"Want to Play a Game?"
"You're traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. That's the signpost up ahead - your next stop, the Twilight Zone!"
- Quote by Rod Serling

Seven year old Tommy Sanders stood next to his dad asleep in bed. "Daddy?" Tapping him on his back.
"Huh? Turning over.
"There's something in my room."
"What Tommy?" Opening his eyes.
"There's something in my room."
"Probably just a bad dream kiddo," yawning.
"I wasn't dreaming. There's something in my closet. I'm scared.
"We've been through this before Tommy, just go back to your room and get some sleep," turning over on his pillow."
"Please daddy?"
"Alright," sitting up putting his slippers on. "Let's go," picking him up in his arms.
"What's wrong John?" Tommy's mom turning over."
"It okay Doris, he just had another one of his bad dreams."
"You want me to take him this time?"
"No, I got it. Go back to sleep."

The hallway was dark. Tommy's room was the first door on the right. "Here we are kiddo," opening the door and reaching for the light switch. There was no switch. Something was different. It wasn't the same room. There were overhead lights which gave off only low glows, flickering sporadically. There were display cases with large heads of ancient creatures throwing off long shadows, like dark mirrors reflecting on themselves. The dad walked through the room still holding Tommy. The lights began to fade as a whoosh of movement sliped past them. He turned quickly and looked around. Nothing. Then from out of the shadows behind a display case, a long, segmented tail emerged. The tail was covered in hard, dark scales. At the end of the tail was a sharp spike. The tail suddenly flicked at the dad, piercing him through the back of the head. Tommy jumped to the floor watching his dad fall into in a pool of blood. He turned and ran towards the door only to find it locked. Panicking, he hid under a table next to the door. The creature continued to slide along the floor towards him, drooling in the shadows moving closer to the door.

Another creature emerged out of the shadows. It was seven feet tall, covered in thick, dark scales. It stood on two legs, with long, powerful arms that ended in razor-sharp claws and a segmented, spiked tail poised behind it. It's demonic head had black, sunken eyes and a severe jaw lined with jagged, fang-like teeth.
It raised it's head...eyes narrowing towards the smaller creature approaching Tommy. Throwing out a piercing growl, it pounced on the smaller creature, ripping it's teeth into it's neck tearing off it's head. Tommy moved out from under the table and looked deep into the creatures eyes. He smiled. The two started to communicate. An unintelligible language passed between them.

A woman in her mid thirties wearing a police badge stood in the doorway of hospital room 532. Her name on the badge read J. Sorensen. A nurse stood next to her.
"He's been sedated several times."
"I'll see if he's awake," Sorensen picking up a small chair setting it down next to his bed. She opened a file and notepad.
"Mr. Sanders?"
"Turning his head with his eyes partially open, he looked over towards the voice calling his name. "Who are you?"
"I'm Detective Sorensen. You were admitted to the hospital early this morning..."
"Why am I in a hospital," interrupting the Detective.
"You were sitting on the floor of the warehouse behind the National History Museum last night...apparently with a minor wound to the back of your head. There were also large traces of blood all over the warehouse. Do you remember what happened?"
"Things are kinda fuzzy..."
"Do you remember anything?"
"I thought I was home in bed with my wife...then, I think my son Tommy came in to our bedroom...something about being scared in his room."
"What else?"
"So we checked it out."
"And?"
"Could have been those things again."
"What things?"
"The ones at the museum. When they get out of their area all hell breaks lose."
"You're not making any sense Mr. Sanders."
"Well, I work down there. Guess you'd have to see it for yourself."
"Alright, I get a search warrant and see what we can find."
"No, I don't think that would be a good idea."
"Why's that? "
"It doesn't fit into the game."
"So you think this is some kind of game?"
"Maybe. You figure it out."
"Okay, then maybe you're not even here...maybe you're just an illusion wasting my time," staring at him.
"Maybe you're right," smiling.
"Ya sure, thought you'd bite on that one. Think you're up to looking at some photographs?
"Sure, what do you got?"
"Tell me if you recognize any of them," handing the photographs to him.

Leaning back against his pillow, Sanders began paging through the fourteen photographs. He smiled as he turned each photo, staring longer at some than the others. Then looking up at the Detective; "These were in picture frames along our fireplace mantel. Why did you take them out of our home?"
"Then you recognize them?"
"Of course I do. This one was taken last Christmas," holding up the photo. "These two on our son's birthday when he turned two...then this one is our wedding photo. What's going on?"
"They weren't taken from your home. We found a box in your desk at work...you know, the Museum? When we checked out the photographer who took these photos...just happens he died back in the mid 1920's. Kinda odd, wouldn't you say?"
"Life has it's quarks Detective."
"Quarks huh?"
"Yea."
"You got an answer for everything, don't you Sanders?"
"If you've been around as long as I have, ya."
"Just a couple more photos Mr. Sanders. Isn't this you at the the National History Museum?" Handing him the photo.
"Ya, that's me. We just received a shipment from Montana. It was the largest discovery of dinosaur bones ever found."
"And when was that?"
"A few weeks ago as I remember. We haven't even had time to open the crates yet."
"According to the Museum records, this shipment of artifacts was received on June 19th 1922. How do you explain that?"
"Probably a mix up in their records."
"Just like everything else, right?"
"Ya, I guess."
"How about today's date?"
"What about it?"
"What day and year is it?"
"June 19th."
"...and the year?"
"I don't know...kinda gettin' forgetful lately."
"This might jog your memory," opening an envelope, then laying a large photo on his bed.
'What's this suppose to be?" Glancing down at the photo.
"It's the Evergreen Cemetery here in town. You, your wife and son are buried there. Apparently you're dead Mr. Sanders. Is this part of the game you were talking about?"
"Picking up the photo he looked over the grave markers: John Sanders born September 8th, 1893, died February 4th 1971. Doris Sanders born April 22nd 1894, died June 11th 1972. Tommy Sanders, born January 17th 1915, died June 19th, 1922, looking up. "What is this...some kind of sick joke?" Throwing the photo on the floor. "None of my family is buried out there. My wife and son are home.," turning his head away.

"Miss Sorensen," a nurse appearing at the door. "Lieutenant Wilder would like to talk with you."
"Alright," moving off her chair gathering up her notes, then looking over at Mr. Sanders. "Don't go away...and by the way, it's 2014, not 1922," walking towards the door, then turning down the hallway.
The Lieutenant was standing next to the nurse station talking with two other officers.
"You wanted to see me Lieutenant?"
"Ya, we just got the blood analysis back from that warehouse crime scene. The blood on the floor matches Mr. Sanders, and..."
"The hospital tests said there were too many variables to make one identify match. So how does that fit in?"
"That's just what I was about to say...and it even gets more strange. The other blood found on the door matches the family DNA of the Sanders."
"So it could be his son."
"It could be, or someone, or something else related."
"Some thing?"
"There was a small strain of unidentified animal blood mixed in with the Sanders blood. Makes ya wonder, doesn't it..."
"Animal blood? This is all starting to sound like some kind of freak show," turning back towards Sander's room. A nurse stopped her in the hallway. "He's gone."
"What?"
"Mr. Sanders, he's gone."
"You were supposed to keep a eye on him."
"I just went to get some coffee...and when I got back, he was gone. The room has been cleaned. The bed is made...just like he'd never been there. I found this photo and note with your name on it at our nurse's station," handing both to the Detective.
"See if he wandered off somewhere. I'll be in the medical office up the hall."

Sitting down at a desk, Detective Sorensen took out the photo of the cemetery which Mr. Sanders had tossed on the floor. The photo had changed. The three headstones of Mr. Sanders, his wife, and their son were gone. She picked up her phone and called Central Headquarters. "This is Detective Sorensen. Transfer me to imagining will ya."
"Imagining, officer Parker."
"Jane, it's Sorensen. Would you pull up that photo of Evergreen Cemetery you sent me."
"Sure Detective, hold on. Alright, got it."
"What's in the picture?"
"Like what?"
"Are there any headstones of the Sanders family in the photo?"
"Not that I see, why?"
"Because the first photo you sent me had three gravestones. One for the father, the mother; the other a boy...remember?"
"Sorry Detective, this was the only photo I sent you...just a lot of grass."
"Alright," hanging up the phone.

"So where the hell are they? People just don't vanish," staring at the cemetery photo on the desk. Mr. Sanders unopened note rested just to the left of the photo. Instantly, it moved across the photo, then stopped. "You gotta be kidding," staring at the paper, then picking up the note, slowly opening the creases as she read; "Wrong cemetery. We move around alot. Want to play another game Detective?"

References
● Story by Abbie Stewart
● Photo by Aurelien Villentte
● Description: Staircase in an old, abandoned Despository.

© 2017 ABBIE STEWART ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ON WRITTEN MATERIAL

"Henry Wooters and Family, near Broken Bow, Custer County, Nebraska 1888."
There was a reference attached to this photo which I thought was interesting: "Even my daughter Millie is learning to shoot the rifle. She hit a tin can I'd set a top a board yesterday dead center...my son Billy would rather chase them hogs..."

Between the family, the wagon, the house, and the windmill, the photo is a wonderful representation of early life on the Great Plains of Nebraska. Zoom in on photo if necessary. It's extremely sharp and clear.
And...I have no idea why the boy is wearing a matching 'dress' just like his sister.

"Mollie Dorsey Sanford."
I'm also reminded of an 18 year old girl who traveled across the Great Plains with her family to Nebraska Territory in 1857. She wrote a diary.
Mollie Dorsey Sanford, an early settler in Nebraska with her family in 1857, began a Journal that year when she was 18 years old; and continued writing, and documenting her Prarie life for the next eleven years.

She writes on June 5th 1857;
"Our cabin which Father built is of hewn logs, a good sized room of 20 ft. square, two windows and one door, and a clapboard roof. We are quite settled and look cozy, and if there is not room enough inside there is plenty out of doors. The sunrise was glorious! the trees full of singing birds, ringing our welcome. It wasn't long before the cook stove was set out and a bounteous breakfast was served, delicious coffee made from clear, sparkling water from our small stream close to the cabin.
Great elm trees grow on it's margin, there branches intertwining, forming an arch over head. The foliage is dense set next to the endless prairie beyond.
My little brothers have been chasing squirrels and finding all sorts of curiosities in the woods, and are wild with delight. I am so happy!" (The Journal of Mollie Dorsey Sanford in Nebraska and Colorado Territories 1857-1866).

References:
● Written by Abbie Stewart
● Windmills: Windmills were primarily used to pump water from Wells for human and animal consumption. Other uses could have been for watering crops or to mill grain.
● Mollie Dorsey Sanford's Journal is still in print. Paperback editions are available through Amazon. It is definitely worth reading.
● Photo by: Solomon D. Butcher 

"A.W. Squires and family, near Gates, Custer County, Nebraska 1886."

Life on the Prairie
The homesteaders faced many challenges. Everything about the prairie was extreme. The land was flat and treeless and the sky seemed to go on forever. On a tall-grass prairie, the grass sometimes grew to be more than 6 feet tall. It is said that riders on horseback could pick wildflowers without dismounting. Women worried about their children getting hopelessly lost in the grass.

Summer brought endless days of heat when the surface temperature could exceed 120 degrees. Periods of drought, rainstorms, tornadoes, swarms of grasshoppers that could destroy fields of crops, and never-ending wind also challenged settlers.

Winters were long and cold. Blizzards were so strong that they could trap livestock and homesteaders under the snow. During the long winter of 1886, horses and cattle died when their breaths froze over the ends of their noses, making it impossible for them to breathe.

Building a home and establishing a farm was a challenge for even the most experienced farmers, but the free land, abundant wildlife, and richness of the soil made the challenge hard to resist.

The year is 1886. The family appears content and happy. The children are adorable. Could we step through this photo and challenge life as they did? That's something we'll really never know.

- Abbie Stewart
- Photo by Solomon D. Butcher

"Victorian Girl and Bisque Doll 1880's"
She is wearing a beautiful homemade dress which was styled after the fashion of the day. The workmanship is amazing. Her shoes are the common high button style. A "button hook" was often used. This was a short hand tool which had a metal hook on the end to pull over the leather and attach it to the button.

- Abbie Stewart

"Remembering..."
Remembering your words, what you said,
how you were lonely sometimes and afraid,
but always brave;
the way you saw the world,
its colors and textures and sounds;
I felt I was dreaming and feeling with you.
I dreamed what you dreamed,
wanted what you wanted,
and then I realized...
that truly
I just wanted you.

- Abbie Stewart

"Rare Photo: Kiowas Native American Teen Girl 1889."
Her name is "O-o-BE."
This is one of the few photos I have come across of a Native American girl smiling in the 1800's. Her handmade clothes are amazing!

● See 35 Additional Photos of Teen Native Americans at: http://www.timebounce.com/rare-historical-photos-of-native-american-young-teen-girls/#.WVNGstBlDqA

Thank you so much Google Plus!
- Abbie Stewart

Collection Of The Week: *+Abbie Stewart​*​ 'Abandoned Buildings'

Writer Abbie Stewart combines her mysterious writing with stunning visual photography of forgotten structures. Urban exploration and horror come together for an engaging mix.

Explore more of 'Abandoned Buildings':
https://plus.google.com/collection/EG1lCB
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