On a cold winter’s day, my oldest son Bill and I were going to discover and explore the Daniel Boone Home together. It would prove to be an experience of a lifetime. That morning after leaving our house, the first stop was McDonalds for hot cakes and a chocolate shake. Yes, a chocolate shake; Bill , nine years old, is my oldest son, a pretty good boy and a joy to be with. He has consistently been getting straight A’s in school and is sharp as a tack. My wife and I are baffled as to where he gets his thinking skills from; when we were his age we were both day-dreamers and did not do well in school. But as far as learning and exploring, Bill is a good buddy to take in these adventures, for; he picks up on details that I do not always notice.
As we drove east on Hwy M from Warrenton on this sunny and cold morning, it was apparent this would be a perfect day for exploring. The two lane highway took us through gentle rolling hills, past farms and pastures; the gentle sway and bounce of the car, the warm sun shining through the windows and Alison Krauss on the radio could easily lull a person to sleep. We took in the sights of the surrounding countryside. A roadside marker marking the Boones Lick Road, a sign for “Roger’s Tractor Service – Specializing in Ford 9N”, horses adorned with blankets grazing in a pasture, a hawk circling high above, a new log home high on a hill, another sign for an upcoming “Sausage Dinner at Friedens Church of Christ”; all indicators of life in a cold and grey landscape.
Upon arriving at the Boone home, we entered the gift shop. The building which was probably once filled with farm implements and smelling of hay now smelled of fragrant herbs. The interior is lined with shelves containing cookbooks, candles, lye soap and books containing historical information about people and places of the Femme Osage valley. Across one end of the building was a low counter, behind which stood three women. One of the women, dressed in costume representative of the early 1800’s, asked if we were interested in taking a tour of Daniel Boone’s home. “Yes, please” we replied and she directed us outside to a smaller out-building that had been converted into a small movie theater. The movie, which lasted about twenty minutes, contained historical information about the home and included a concise history of Daniel Boone and his family and chronicles their migration from the east through Kentucky into Missouri. Our walk from the theater to the house went past a group of re-enactors buildi
ng a “Long-Hunters” cabin from red cedar poles. One of the men was being interviewed by a man with a camera crew. Up the walk, beyond the group of men, we passed by the spring house. The spring house is a small structure built into the side of the hill usually over a natural spring. Its function is to act as natural refrigeration for storing perishables such as milk and meat . In the winter, blocks of ice would be chopped from the nearby creek and stored in the spring house to further aid in the refrigeration. Our guide questioned Bill if he recognized the spring house from the movie, he replied that he had. With this, Bill, explained the similarities between this building and the Penguin House at the St. Louis Zoo. He described how in the summer the Penguin House felt freezing cold, but, during the winter it felt quite warm. 
The house, built by Nathan and Daniel Boone sits high on a hillside facing north. The exterior masonry was made from limestone blocks quarried from the nearby bluffs and shaped by hand by the builders. The tool marks in the masonry are still visible today, over 200 years later. The house took seven years to complete and includes seven main rooms connected by a center hallway. On each end of the house is a chimney that services multiple fireplaces; in all there were ten fireplaces when the home was originally built. Before entering the front entrance, I tapped Bill on the shoulder and pointed out the large openings between the bricks along the front of the house. Our guide explained that these openings were originally intended to act as gun ports to defend the home in case of Indian attacks, but, were never used. The interior of the home was filled with splendid wood work, from the black walnut flooring on the first floor, the hand carved mantels above the fireplace and the hand-hewn timbers over head. The second floor was a continuation of masterful woodworks, but, here the floor was solid oak. The lower level was used as the family’s kitchen and dining area. The interior had a stone floor and walls; dark-wood tables and a few cooking vessels were also around the room .On each end of this large room was a fireplace, one with a beehive oven for baking. In the corner was a large copper kettle. Bill immediately asked if popcorn, his favorite snack, was popped in this kettle. Our guide explained that sometimes during seasonal events popcorn was indeed popped in it; other times it was filled with wassel or apple butter. She continued to explain that during the time the Boone family lived here it was used for cooking meals, laundry, salting meat and for bathing. With the last statement, Bill effectively was “grossed-out”.
At the conclusion of the house tour, Bill and I decided to further explore Boonesfield village. The buildings of Boonesfield are not original to the Boone family property, but, have been moved in from the surrounding countryside. Some of the buildings that make the village are: the grist mill, the general store, a church, a home with barn, the cabinetmaker’s shop and the potters shop. The entire collection forms a circular road with the buildings on the outside of the ring and a large field in the center. Down on the very far end of the circle, opposite from the Boone ho
me, a second group of men were constructing a second long-hunters cabin. Bill and I stood there watching the men shape the cedar poles with an adze. It was at this point that Bill informed me that he had left his coat in the car and now he is freezing. I had never noticed that the hooded sweatshirt that he was wearing was not the hooded jacket that I normally see him wear. In an effort to warm him up, I gave him my coat and we walked over to a brick building to get out of the biting wind. Near the brick building was a barn where two sheep were kept. The sheep had a humorous appeal to me, they looked like two over-stuffed pieces of furniture on four spindly legs. We paused long enough at the sheep for Bill to have a brief conversation and a quick chuckle. From there, w
e quickly moved to the brick building and leaned against the south wall bathing in the winter sun and out of the wind. The wall felt warm on our backs as Bill stood quietly trying to warm himself and I wrote notes in my journal. From around the corner of the building I heard the sounds of voices and peered around and there stood a woman dressed in period garb, entering a door. I spoke “Hello”, trying not to startle her, and she replied “Hello, come on in out of the cold”. Bill and I followed her into the building which was actually a kitchen. Inside she and another woman were baking apple pies, bread and cinnamon rolls. Under the light of the rooms only window was a large wooden table, upon 
which the women were preparing their bake goods. In the center of one wall, which happened to be the wall Bill and I were standing against, was a large open hearth fireplace. There was a collection of cast-iron dutch ovens in the floor in front of the fire, these contained balls of bread dough rising in the soft warmth of the fire. Above the fire was an iron swing arm and on its end was a large graniteware kettle with wisps of steam escaping its pour spout. To the right of the fireplace was a baking oven. There was a small wooden door, which when opened revealed the cavernous brick oven, inside were several pies. Below this door was an iron door; behind this was the fire for heating the oven. The women explained that the fire und
er the oven had been burning for two days, but, the oven was still just not hot enough. They offered us both hot chocolate to drink, which Bill and I graciously accepted. IN the corner of the room was another copper kettle like the one we had seen in the house up the hill and once again Bill inquired about popcorn. They replied rather jokingly, “No, but in the fall it’s filled with beef stew”. Immediately, my thoughts were imagining the big kettle filled with steaming stew, dreaming of the smells and could almost taste it.. A man came in from building the cabin to get a hot cup of coffee and while one of the women was fetching the kettle from the fire, he paid for his cup by offering to bring in an armload of wood for their fires. I instructed Bill to follow the man out the door and help bring in some wood and he followed the man out. The man returned with Bill following; both carrying wood. The women thanked Bill and explained to him that in the frontier days, the children would have been responsible for carrying all the firewood and water to the kitchen. When the man left, Bill and I thanked the women for their hospitality and back out into the cold we went. We sat on a bench under a large arbor and finished our hot chocolate while I wrote more notes n my journal.
When finished, we continued exploring the little village. Next to the building that housed the kitchen, stood a little yellow house surrounded by a white picket fence. The front entry was adorned with rat
her intricate moldings and dentils, the work of a skilled craftsman. The next building was the Peace Chapel. T
he chapel is the stereotypical country church; white with tall windows and grand spire. On top of the steeple was a white dove with a branch in its beak; its wings open as if landing on the pinnacle. This particular building was originally erected in New Melle in the 1800’s and moved to its present location a few years ago.
Bill and headed back to the gift shop and on to the car. The drive home we talked about the adventure with great enthusiasm. He talked at great length about the two women and the baking oven and how much fun he had exploring with me. I explained how his mother would be disappointed that she did not come with us on our adventure. Together we decided that we would return someday with Momma and his little brother Tom-Tom in tow and experience the Boone home and Boonesfield Village again.
As we drove east on Hwy M from Warrenton on this sunny and cold morning, it was apparent this would be a perfect day for exploring. The two lane highway took us through gentle rolling hills, past farms and pastures; the gentle sway and bounce of the car, the warm sun shining through the windows and Alison Krauss on the radio could easily lull a person to sleep. We took in the sights of the surrounding countryside. A roadside marker marking the Boones Lick Road, a sign for “Roger’s Tractor Service – Specializing in Ford 9N”, horses adorned with blankets grazing in a pasture, a hawk circling high above, a new log home high on a hill, another sign for an upcoming “Sausage Dinner at Friedens Church of Christ”; all indicators of life in a cold and grey landscape.
Upon arriving at the Boone home, we entered the gift shop. The building which was probably once filled with farm implements and smelling of hay now smelled of fragrant herbs. The interior is lined with shelves containing cookbooks, candles, lye soap and books containing historical information about people and places of the Femme Osage valley. Across one end of the building was a low counter, behind which stood three women. One of the women, dressed in costume representative of the early 1800’s, asked if we were interested in taking a tour of Daniel Boone’s home. “Yes, please” we replied and she directed us outside to a smaller out-building that had been converted into a small movie theater. The movie, which lasted about twenty minutes, contained historical information about the home and included a concise history of Daniel Boone and his family and chronicles their migration from the east through Kentucky into Missouri. Our walk from the theater to the house went past a group of re-enactors buildi
ng a “Long-Hunters” cabin from red cedar poles. One of the men was being interviewed by a man with a camera crew. Up the walk, beyond the group of men, we passed by the spring house. The spring house is a small structure built into the side of the hill usually over a natural spring. Its function is to act as natural refrigeration for storing perishables such as milk and meat . In the winter, blocks of ice would be chopped from the nearby creek and stored in the spring house to further aid in the refrigeration. Our guide questioned Bill if he recognized the spring house from the movie, he replied that he had. With this, Bill, explained the similarities between this building and the Penguin House at the St. Louis Zoo. He described how in the summer the Penguin House felt freezing cold, but, during the winter it felt quite warm. 
The house, built by Nathan and Daniel Boone sits high on a hillside facing north. The exterior masonry was made from limestone blocks quarried from the nearby bluffs and shaped by hand by the builders. The tool marks in the masonry are still visible today, over 200 years later. The house took seven years to complete and includes seven main rooms connected by a center hallway. On each end of the house is a chimney that services multiple fireplaces; in all there were ten fireplaces when the home was originally built. Before entering the front entrance, I tapped Bill on the shoulder and pointed out the large openings between the bricks along the front of the house. Our guide explained that these openings were originally intended to act as gun ports to defend the home in case of Indian attacks, but, were never used. The interior of the home was filled with splendid wood work, from the black walnut flooring on the first floor, the hand carved mantels above the fireplace and the hand-hewn timbers over head. The second floor was a continuation of masterful woodworks, but, here the floor was solid oak. The lower level was used as the family’s kitchen and dining area. The interior had a stone floor and walls; dark-wood tables and a few cooking vessels were also around the room .On each end of this large room was a fireplace, one with a beehive oven for baking. In the corner was a large copper kettle. Bill immediately asked if popcorn, his favorite snack, was popped in this kettle. Our guide explained that sometimes during seasonal events popcorn was indeed popped in it; other times it was filled with wassel or apple butter. She continued to explain that during the time the Boone family lived here it was used for cooking meals, laundry, salting meat and for bathing. With the last statement, Bill effectively was “grossed-out”.
At the conclusion of the house tour, Bill and I decided to further explore Boonesfield village. The buildings of Boonesfield are not original to the Boone family property, but, have been moved in from the surrounding countryside. Some of the buildings that make the village are: the grist mill, the general store, a church, a home with barn, the cabinetmaker’s shop and the potters shop. The entire collection forms a circular road with the buildings on the outside of the ring and a large field in the center. Down on the very far end of the circle, opposite from the Boone ho
me, a second group of men were constructing a second long-hunters cabin. Bill and I stood there watching the men shape the cedar poles with an adze. It was at this point that Bill informed me that he had left his coat in the car and now he is freezing. I had never noticed that the hooded sweatshirt that he was wearing was not the hooded jacket that I normally see him wear. In an effort to warm him up, I gave him my coat and we walked over to a brick building to get out of the biting wind. Near the brick building was a barn where two sheep were kept. The sheep had a humorous appeal to me, they looked like two over-stuffed pieces of furniture on four spindly legs. We paused long enough at the sheep for Bill to have a brief conversation and a quick chuckle. From there, w
e quickly moved to the brick building and leaned against the south wall bathing in the winter sun and out of the wind. The wall felt warm on our backs as Bill stood quietly trying to warm himself and I wrote notes in my journal. From around the corner of the building I heard the sounds of voices and peered around and there stood a woman dressed in period garb, entering a door. I spoke “Hello”, trying not to startle her, and she replied “Hello, come on in out of the cold”. Bill and I followed her into the building which was actually a kitchen. Inside she and another woman were baking apple pies, bread and cinnamon rolls. Under the light of the rooms only window was a large wooden table, upon 
which the women were preparing their bake goods. In the center of one wall, which happened to be the wall Bill and I were standing against, was a large open hearth fireplace. There was a collection of cast-iron dutch ovens in the floor in front of the fire, these contained balls of bread dough rising in the soft warmth of the fire. Above the fire was an iron swing arm and on its end was a large graniteware kettle with wisps of steam escaping its pour spout. To the right of the fireplace was a baking oven. There was a small wooden door, which when opened revealed the cavernous brick oven, inside were several pies. Below this door was an iron door; behind this was the fire for heating the oven. The women explained that the fire und
er the oven had been burning for two days, but, the oven was still just not hot enough. They offered us both hot chocolate to drink, which Bill and I graciously accepted. IN the corner of the room was another copper kettle like the one we had seen in the house up the hill and once again Bill inquired about popcorn. They replied rather jokingly, “No, but in the fall it’s filled with beef stew”. Immediately, my thoughts were imagining the big kettle filled with steaming stew, dreaming of the smells and could almost taste it.. A man came in from building the cabin to get a hot cup of coffee and while one of the women was fetching the kettle from the fire, he paid for his cup by offering to bring in an armload of wood for their fires. I instructed Bill to follow the man out the door and help bring in some wood and he followed the man out. The man returned with Bill following; both carrying wood. The women thanked Bill and explained to him that in the frontier days, the children would have been responsible for carrying all the firewood and water to the kitchen. When the man left, Bill and I thanked the women for their hospitality and back out into the cold we went. We sat on a bench under a large arbor and finished our hot chocolate while I wrote more notes n my journal.When finished, we continued exploring the little village. Next to the building that housed the kitchen, stood a little yellow house surrounded by a white picket fence. The front entry was adorned with rat
her intricate moldings and dentils, the work of a skilled craftsman. The next building was the Peace Chapel. T
he chapel is the stereotypical country church; white with tall windows and grand spire. On top of the steeple was a white dove with a branch in its beak; its wings open as if landing on the pinnacle. This particular building was originally erected in New Melle in the 1800’s and moved to its present location a few years ago.Bill and headed back to the gift shop and on to the car. The drive home we talked about the adventure with great enthusiasm. He talked at great length about the two women and the baking oven and how much fun he had exploring with me. I explained how his mother would be disappointed that she did not come with us on our adventure. Together we decided that we would return someday with Momma and his little brother Tom-Tom in tow and experience the Boone home and Boonesfield Village again.
1 comment:
Larry,
Who would have thought. This is a great commentary. Very well written. Who would have known Larry a writer?
Ann Wood-Dorn
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