WHEN SMALL WAS BETTER

by
Teresa Conway

Delivered to
The Chicago Literary Club
Monday, February 19, 1996
Copyright 1996 by Teresa Conway

Come with me to a small place on this planet which is between 33 degrees and 37 degrees North Latitude and 94 degrees and 98 degrees West Longitude, and to a time more than a century ago.

At this spot there were then --
"lofty trees, with straight, smooth trunks, like stately columns; and as the glancing rays of the sun shone through the transparent leaves, tinted with the many-colored hues of autumn, [you were] reminded of the effect of sunshine among the stained windows and clustering columns of a Gothic cathedral." In the forest, appeared "a lonely pool, covered with the most magnificent water-lilies I had ever beheld; among which swam several wood-ducks, one of the most beautiful of waterfowl remarkable for the gracefulness and brilliancy of its plumage." There were "alluvial bottoms matted with redundant vegetation, where the gigantic trees were entangled with grapevines, hanging like cordage from their branches; sometimes we coasted along sluggish brooks, where feebly trickling current just served to link together a succession of glassy pools, imbedded like mirrors in the quiet bosom of the forest, reflecting its autumnal foliage and patches of the clear blue sky." "[F]rom the summits of [broken and rocky hills] we had wide views stretching on one side over distant prairies diversified by groves and hills beyond the walls of the [river]." In another area "a luxuriant bottom of meadow [was] bordered by thickets, where the tall grass was pressed down into numerous deer-beds,' where those animals had crouched the preceding night. Some oak-trees also bore signs of having been clambered by bears, in quest of acorns, the marks of their claws being visible in the bark." The grand prairie was "an immense extent of grassy, undulating, or, as it is termed, rolling country, with here and there a clump of trees dimly seen in the distance like a ship at sea; the landscape deriving sublimity from its vastness and simplicity. To the southwest, on the summit of a hill, was a singular crest of broken rocks, resembling a ruined fortress." "[T]he Red Fork [wound] its turbid course through well-wooded hills, and through a vast and magnificent landscape. The prairies bordering on the rivers are always varied in this way with woodland, so beautifully interspersed as to appear to have been laid on by the hand of taste; and they only want here and there a mansion rising from among the trees, to rival the most ornamental scenery of Europe."

In the century and more since Washington Irving wrote these descriptions of this small place on the planet, there have been no Gothic cathedrals, no picturesque ruined fortresses, no romantic turreted castles crowning the hills overlooking the Arkansas River in what was then called Indian Territory.

In 1832 when Irving made A Tour on the Prairies with Indian Affairs Commissioner Ellsworth and a group of United States Army Mounted Rangers, the traces of human habitation on the land were faint. Hunters of the Osage Nation swept across the hills and valleys in search of buffalo and then returned to the plains to the north. Then only the sounds of birds, animals or the wind broke the quiet. But revolutionary change was coming. Commissioner Ellsworth and the Mounted Rangers were evidence of that. Their mission was both to explore the area near the Arkansas River and to promote peace between the Osage Nation and the Five Civilized Indian Tribes, soon to make their homes in Indian Territory.

The Five Tribes had lived in the southeastern United States for centuries before Europeans settled on the east coast, but once the United States became a nation, land-hungry white settlers demanded the tribal lands for themselves. Although treaties between the federal government and the Tribes had promised that the tribal land was theirs forever, President Andrew Jackson was committed to Indian Removal to the West. The major relocation of the Five Tribes to Indian Territory began during the early 1800s and continued for the rest of the century.

In the new treaties, the Five Tribes were to hold their new homeland as tribal lands for "as long as the grass shall grow and the rivers run." As time passed, the politicians in Washington could somehow always find reasons to slice off parts of the Territory. During the Civil War many members of the Five Tribes supported the Confederacy; after the War ended, that support was used as an excuse to take over almost half of the tribal lands. Texas ranchers discovered that "the native blue stem grass would put more pounds on a steer than any other native grass and large quantities of Texas steers were shipped into the Osage Nation for feeding." Then the steers were driven to the railroad lines in Kansas where they were shipped East. Enterprising individuals decided that the railroads should be brought closer to the feedlots. The politicians agreed and there was another wedge in opening the Territory to white settlement. By 1893 when Chicagoans were entranced by the World Columbian Exposition celebrating the 400th anniversary of the discovery of America by Columbus, the federally appointed Dawes Commission was negotiating with the Five Tribes to end communal ownership of their land and divide it into individual allotments. When railroads were permitted in the Territory, the tribal chiefs realized that their traditional lifestyle and autonomy could not last.

The subject of my paper is the relationship between two men, of totally different personality and background, who were alike in their determination that one of those railroads, the Midland Valley, would prosper. It was a short line road, which ran from Arkansas through Indian Territory to Kansas. The two men were Charles Edward Ingersoll of Philadelphia and Worley Lefeber, originally from south-central Tennessee.

Charles Ingersoll was one of the seventh generation of a family that had a long tradition of public service, although in some situations that public service was not appreciated by their constituents.

Benjamin Franklin had advised one Ingersoll ancestor, Jared, Sr., to accept appointment from the British to act as stamp-agent for Connecticut when the colonies were protesting against the infamous Stamp Act. The people of New Haven opposed implementation of the Act, so they surrounded Jared's house and demanded that he resign the position. He replied that he did not know if he had the power to resign, but would return the stamps he had received or leave the matter to their decision. When they threatened to attack his house, he fled from New Haven toward Hartford. Outside Wethersfield 500 men on horseback, preceded by three trumpeters and two militia officers, escorted him into the village. When the people broke into the house where he had taken refuge, Jared stated "The cause is not worth dying for," and resigned. The crowd forced him to shout "Liberty and property" three times and then accompanied him to Hartford where he read his resignation statement to the legislature.

Whether because of his father's experiences with the irate citizens of Connecticut or because of his own convictions, Jared, Jr., supported the revolutionary cause. A lawyer who had studied at the Middle Temple in London and practiced in Philadelphia, he served as a delegate from Pennsylvania to the Continental Congress and was a representative in the convention that framed the United States Constitution in 1787.

Almost prophetically in view of Charles Edward Ingersoll's later interest in railroads, his grandfather, Charles Jared Ingersoll, attended a canal and public works meeting in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania in 1825 and advocated the development of steam railroads. The proponents of canals, who were not as far-sighted as he was, outvoted him and the Ingersolls had to wait for seventy years to develop a railroad of their own.

During the nineteenth century the Ingersolls were prominent members of Philadelphia high society. Several were influential lawyers, authors and legislators. They were also active members of the Democratic Party, well known for their independent thinking. During the Civil War, Charles Edward's father had been opposed to Lincoln's war policies and once became so physically energetic in his denunciations of those policies that he had been thrown in jail.

As had many others in his family, Charles Edward Ingersoll launched a political career, serving as United States appraiser for the Port of Philadelphia. In 1902 he was the Democratic Party candidate for Congress but did not win the election. If the voters had sent him to Congress, he might never have returned to the West, as he called the region of which Indian Territory was a part, and the Midland Valley Railroad might never have been built.

That railroad was not Charles Ingersoll's first venture into railroading. In the 1890s, he and other Philadelphia businessmen had invested in the Choctaw, Oklahoma & Gulf Railway. These businessmen had extensive interests in Arkansas coal fields and used the CO&G to serve those fields.

After that line was sold to the Jay Gould interests, Charles Ingersoll decided to start a new line--the Midland Valley Railroad. The road was to travel northwest from Arkansas through Indian Territory via Muskogee, Tulsa, and a portion of the Osage Nation. Ingersoll's original strategy was to use the new railroad to carry coal from deposits in Sebastian County, Arkansas, and eastern Oklahoma to Colorado and other states where cold weather created a large demand for fuel. The original tracks followed a serpent-like path along the edges of the coal fields. Ingersoll acquired a substantial interest in coal mines and, eventually, when the Midland Valley was extended to Wichita "to link with the great railroads of the west, [he] owned a goodly portion of the desirable coal properties."

On February 1, 1903, construction began on the Midland Valley railroad. The original line was completed in 1906.

One of the men who participated in the construction was Worley Lefeber. The son of a blacksmith in Winchester, Tennessee, Lefeber had minimal formal education. In his Remembrances, he said:

"I had practically no education, having reached the Barnes Fourth Reader in Free School. When I was twelve years of age I acted as janitor of the Free School, sweeping out at the close of school, making fire in the coal stoves, and pumping water from the cistern and placing [it] in several rooms. The water from these cisterns contained all of the known impurities. As [I] recalled, I was paid $1.50 a month."

In need of full-time employment, he answered a newspaper advertisement and was hired by a short line railroad. The office force at his first railroad job

"consisted of the General Manager ($250.00 a month), a General Freight Agent, a Clerk, an Auditor (over eighty years of age, who had lost the use of his right hand, and [of] a fortune), with a part time Clerk and [a] Dispatcher who worked all the time, and myself."

Even with that inauspicious beginning, Lefeber persevered in his railroading career. When Charles Ingersoll was organizing the Midland Valley, Lefeber was working for the CO&G as Chief Clerk. He "worked from early morning until late at night, except on Saturdays and Sundays. This was not unusual, as the railroad Auditor issued a bulletin every Monday that the force would work until 10:00 o'clock at night until canceled. No overtime was paid." When the Chief Engineer of the new railroad offered Lefeber a job, he accepted and immediately began working on the surveys and other construction matters.

He was sent to St. Louis to purchase engineering equipment and supplies for five leasing parties. After he told the Manager of the supply store what he wanted, the Manager disappeared for about thirty minutes and then said Lefeber should return after 1 o'clock. When he did, the Manager was at the door to greet him. Later, Lefeber said the Manager told him that

"the first salesman that I talked to thought there was something phony about such a large order; that they had never sold an order of this size. I had given him the Girard Trust Company, Philadelphia, as reference. When he excused himself he had gone to the telegraph office and wired their New York office and had received a reply to sell [the railroad] anything."

In 1906 when the main line of the Midland Valley was completed, the inhabitants of Indian Territory and Oklahoma Territory were in the midst of debates about statehood. Representatives of the Five Tribes met in the small town of Muskogee, the capital of those Tribes, to create a constitution for Indian Territory. They voted to establish a state called Sequoyah. The proposed government for that state would have protected tribal traditions from further erosion due to the pressure of white settlement. Unfortunately for the tribes, the politicians in Oklahoma Territory maneuvered to combine Indian and Oklahoma Territories into one state, and in 1907 Oklahoma became the forty-sixth state of the Union.

Although it did not become the capital of the State of Sequoyah, the town of Muskogee continued to play an important part in the history of the railroad. The town donated $25,000 to build the railroad's shops, so the Midland Valley General Office was moved to Muskogee. The shops were located considerably out of town. The town extended the streetcar line to them and also opened the Midland Valley Addition where some employees purchased small frame homes.

In 1913 Charles Ingersoll made a decision which would ensure the success of the Midland Valley. Lefeber tells the story:

"In the Spring of 1913 Mr. Ingersoll asked me to come to Philadelphia; I had no reason to know why. I arrived at Forest Hill. After preliminary words he said: Lefeber, I want you to go back to Muskogee and take charge of the railroad'. I told him that I had not the experience to take on such a responsibility. He urged me and Mrs. Ingersoll got into the act and backed him up. I finally said, Yes' but added: if you have made a mistake it is yours, not mine.'

"I returned to Muskogee. The elderly Mr. Harris, who had somewhat brought me up in the railroad business, was the general manager reporting only to Mr. Ingersoll. I was aware of his total inefficiency. I went to his office and said: Mr. Harris you are fired, clean out your desk and leave the office by four o'clock.' All hell broke loose. He called Mr. Ingersoll. Mr. Ingersoll called me and urged that I should go easy on an old friend of us both. I said: Mr. Ingersoll, you told me to take charge of the railroad,--did you mean it? If not, I'll resign.' Mr. Ingersoll got my point and Mr. Harris left".

As Sturgis Ingersoll, one of Charles' sons, later wrote: "That incident expresses Worley. He had hosts of friends, but when the issue was between his feelings for a friend and his loyalty to his job, the friend lost."

Illicit liquor was a constant problem for railroad management. For many years liquor was banned in Indian Territory, yet there seems to have been an overabundant supply. The recollections of railroad personnel and company records contain many references to employees being fired because of drunkenness and of other employees being fired because they provided the illegal liquor to their colleagues.

Excessive drinking also affected the railroad's customers. Once, as part of its entertainment program for the cattle men,

"the company's business car made a trip to El Paso, where the [cattle men's] convention was held. Due to some kind of track disturbance, the train was delayed for several hours at Sierra Blanca, near El Paso. The station and water facilities were new and neat. The depot contained a bedroom for the Agent. There were a number of burros grazing around. Some of the cattle men got one of the burros, gave it a quantity of whiskey and the burro was not able to get up. The Agent was down at the water pumping station, a short distance from the depot. Someone got the window open into the Agent's bedroom and the burro was carried and placed in the Agent's bed and neatly covered up.

"By this time we had returned to the car some distance back. Later on someone opened and slammed the car door and here was a person with a revolver, wanting to know which one of us put the burro in his bed, as he wanted to kill him. We had much difficulty in convincing this Agent that we had nothing to do with it."

Sometimes excessive consumption of liquor also upset ceremonial occasions. In the following tale, Lefeber performed a civic duty by staying sober under difficult circumstances. A celebration changing the name of the town of Bigheart to Barnsdall was being held one Spring.

"A special train had been arranged. There were perhaps a hundred people going from Tulsa. The company's business car was on this train. No intoxicating liquors of any kind were carried on the car. Someone had a large amount of illicit liquor. It was brought into the dining room of the car and resulted in quite a few getting very intoxicated.

"The address [at the celebration] was to be made by the head of the Legal Department. The banquet took place in a large building just being completed. It was cold and muddy. The person above referred to as the executive head had not indulged in any drinking, and being on the railroad, I had not. The speaker was not in condition to get off of the train. I stated I would remain with him and my business was to get him to the speaker's table several hours later. With the assistance of another officer of the company we got off the car an hour before the banquet time, and had little success in being able to have the speaker walk, so we got him up to the banquet hall ahead of anyone [else]. The speaker said, Pull the table back so I can lean against the wall when I stand up.' This was done.

"The place was full of people and they had a dinner.... While [the executive] was introducing the intoxicated speaker, [he] says to me, Get under the table and find my teeth.' I got down on my knees and finally found his false teeth. When [the speaker] was introduced the officer of the company who had come up with us was able to assist the speaker and lean him against the wall.

"His speech was received with great applause and appreciation, and other than those closely associated with him [the audience] did not know he was under the influence of liquor."

One unique aspect of railroading in Indian Territory was negotiating with the Indians for permission to use their land for railroad facilities. When the federal government had required the tribal lands to be divided and given to individual tribe members, many did not understand the legal technicalities of ownership. They often fell prey to unscrupulous promoters who would pay them far less than fair market value for their rights. As a result, many were very suspicious of strangers and their promises. Lefeber wrote of a situation where the railroad needed railroad track facilities at Stone Bluff.

"The only feasible location was on Fullblood Indian land. While the Indian Service people were most friendly to us, they could make no suggestion other than that the railroad secure authority from the Fullblood owner and he would approve it and we could take a chance of immediate possession.

"I happened to know this owner, and the only person I could get any reference to as one who might be able to deal with this Indian was the banker in Haskell. The matter was very pressing. Arrangements were made with the Indian Agent to take an interpreter, the Field Representative, and a total of eight in all and pick up the banker at Haskell and leave Muskogee early Sunday morning on a Special to get the Fullblood Indian's authority.

"When we got to the Indian's home he and his wife and child and several dogs were squatted around a fireplace. There were big holes in the hut. It was very cold. I had never seen the wife. The first thing she said was, Old Joe (her husband) won't sign nothin' until I get the money,' and stated she was surprised that the bank would keep company with these railroad and Indian Agent people. She referred to the railroad having stolen the right of way from old Joe'. She referred to the Indian Agent and all employees as thieves. She included the railroad in everything bad. We were there several hours, and finally resulted in getting a document signed that permitted the building of the track."

When Lefeber investigated the allegation about the theft of the right of way, he discovered that there was a culprit but the Indian wife had chosen the wrong one. Instead of a railroad representative, a townsite promoter had persuaded Old Joe to sign away his ownership of the right of way.

The combination of Charles Ingersoll as the strategist and Worley Lefeber as the operating manager proved to be a winning one. Physically Ingersoll was tall and distinguished-looking; Lefeber was just above five feet tall and wiry, with a cocky swagger to his walk.

Temperamentally, Ingersoll had (as his son would say) "always been somewhat intuitive in forming judgments. He felt' rather than thought' that the situation would be profitable." In a letter to his son Harry, Charles Ingersoll described his approach toward work:

"I wish to give you a little advice as to handling your work. It will be quite a responsibility and it will wear on you if you permit it. You, as several of us, are of a somewhat nervous temperament. It is a great advantage, provided you don't permit it to wear out your machinery. It is all in the point of view. You will do your best; then you must not worry that you cannot do any more. Have in mind somewhat to save yourself. I do not mean at the expense of your work but for the benefit of your physical and nervous machinery. You can accomplish a great deal more work in this way than if you let everything that comes up, that is not exactly as you want it, become a burden to you. A sense of humor in this particular is an enormous help but unfortunately we are rather deficient in this quality."

"Our machines wear very much every time we get angry or annoyed. It takes a great deal more out of you than you can imagine. Calmness under irritating circumstances is one of the most valuable characteristics.

A good example of the contrast between the two men is shown by the decision of Charles Ingersoll to spend $150,000 of his own money and to guarantee loans of $250,000 to extend the Midland Valley fifty miles from Arkansas City to Wichita, Kansas. As Charles' son, Sturgis, tells the story:

"[Lefeber] always said that Papa, with no study of traffic movements or division possibilities had been taken over the jumps by loud-talking Wichita Chamber of Commerce enthusiasts who, at the expense of Papa, wanted to boast that there was another railroad located in their fair city. For years Lefeber was eloquent about Papa's ignorance with respect to traffic movements. He was right. Profitable traffic never developed on the extension and it proved to be a burden rather than an advantage."

As may be seen by this story, another of Lefeber's attributes was his willingness to state his opinions.

Lefeber's firm belief was that "you can't stay in business by doing things that lose money." A newspaper reporter once said that Lefeber "has spent a lifetime in the railroad business. He knows its twists and turns and almost every corner that can be cut without actually forcing the discontinuance of operations."

Lefeber constantly looked for ways to save money. In one instance, he wondered

"if the railroad could not use compressed natural gas in cylinders for our coach lighting, instead of oil lamps. Finally, with the help of a local gas man, we were able to successfully test out this use, and thereafter, at the minimum cost, equipped all of the company's passenger cars with natural gas."

Another time, the Roundhouse caught fire during the night. The two locomotives in the building were not badly damaged nor were the tools stored there. An architect who specialized in railroad shop work prepared an approximate floor plan and layout for $250 (a large amount in those days).

"After spending hours and hours with mechanical foremen--our mechanical operating records--our locomotive histories--and all, the local German mechanic who had done some work for us on motor cars was called in. He thought for a very few dollars he could put most of the tools back into service. He did. One of the questions was, could these old and slow, obsolete tools, such as shears, drill presses, etc., be used in comparison with modern fast electric tools. Could one or more tools be combined? The final answer seemed to make sense in that the calculations were based on the small amount of time in an average month that one of these tools would be used."

Again Lefeber had found a way to save money and maintain service. At the time of the fire, there was speculation that the shops might be moved from Muskogee to Tulsa, thirty miles away. The Mayor of Muskogee and the President of the Bank became quite nervous at the prospect of losing the shops to their rival city. They promptly advised Lefeber that Muskogee would provide funds to rebuild the shops and would furnish water to the railroad for $100 a month. As a result of further negotiations with the competing cities, the Midland Valley obtained the funds to build two passenger depots in Muskogee and Tulsa for practically the same amount received from the shop fire in Muskogee.

"When [Lefeber] took charge Oklahoma was bursting with oil....[F]or a few years Tulsa served by the Midland and major trunk lines was acclaimed as the oil capital of the world'. There, the future giants of the industry--Texas Company, Phillips, Cosden and others built their refineries. It was before the days of pipelines and the Missouri Pacific, Rock Island, Katy, Frisco, Santa Fe and the Kansas City Southern directly or through connections competed frantically for the lucrative tank car business. Almost over night Lefeber built a belt line serving all the refineries in Tulsa and suddenly the trunk lines lost their business to the little upstart. Lefeber's baby, as we called the belt line, made the Midland immensely prosperous until the pipelines changed the nature of transporting petroleum and its by-products."

The discovery of oil fields during the early 1900s upset Ingersoll's strategy of using the railroad to haul coal, but the Ingersoll fortunes did not suffer from the decline in coal traffic and the increase in oil traffic. The company's line, quite accidentally, ran across the lands where the fabulous Glenn Pool and Osage oil fields were to be discovered. A branch line was constructed to serve the Glenn Pool oil field, and an independent road, the Osage Railway, was built during the early 1920s to accommodate traffic from the oil fields located in the Osage Nation. Another branch line was built at a cost of $400,000 to serve the Burbank oil field. "For each of a number of years it made net [revenue] in excess of its cost."

Ingersoll also acquired the Kansas, Oklahoma & Gulf Railroad, which had been in receivership, over the protests of his sons and Lefeber. He, then in his mid-sixties, "foresaw and [the others] did not, that rehabilitated this road would prove a profitable shortcut to the Missouri Pacific from Kansas to Texas. Within a year after [the Midland] obtained control it proved a goldmine handling trains of 125 cars loaded with wheat and merchandise from Kansas to Texas."

Charles Ingersoll was not an absentee owner and made his whole family very much a part of the Midland Valley Railroad. Mrs. Ingersoll frequently accompanied her husband on his visits to the West and had more than a superficial understanding of conditions on the railroad. During one financial crisis she assured Lefeber that she knew he "would be able to pull it out." The Ingersoll sons participated in inspection trips and received frequent reports about the line's activities from their father. Son Sturgis claimed that the only advantage to the family from the unprofitable Wichita extension was his own experience in the construction gang. There he met old time railroad construction workers and heard their tall tales about laying track on the frontier. Son Jared served an apprenticeship preparing complicated oil leases and eventually became Chairman of the company.

During World War I when his sons were in military service, Charles Ingersoll lamented "that with 3 good boys I have, not one of them is working on the Midland Valley, for surely we do need them down there." It was his opinion that "if it were not for the oil and gasoline originating on the Midland Valley, the Allies' cause would be in trouble. We are surely shipping oceans of it for export."

What was the secret of the success of this small railroad which had fewer than 500 miles of track and which was so profitable during the first part of the twentieth century that many Oklahomans believed it could relay its tracks with gold?

The title of this paper was chosen because I remembered a statement of my father, who was Assistant General Attorney of the Midland Valley in the 1930s. He had said that although it was much smaller than most railroads, the Midland Valley was one of the few First Class Railroads which had always paid dividends and had never been in receivership during the Depression. To me that seemed to point toward "smallness" as a possible answer to the reason for its success--hence the title "When Small Was Better." When I mentioned the title to my brother, a former Missouri-Pacific Railroad Superintendent at Muskogee, he said the Pennsylvania Railroad, a major trunk line, also fell into the category of a profitable Depression-era railroad. Since Charles Ingersoll had also been a Director of the Pennsylvania, I decided to examine his business approach to try to find the reasons for the Midland Valley's success.

After reading the Ingersoll and Lefeber recollections and some records of the Midland Valley Railroad, I would suggest the following as reasons for success:

1. The owners invested their own money and expected a good return from the investment. Unlike financiers like Jay Gould who would assemble struggling railroads into one company and then quickly sell it for a profit, Charles Ingersoll invested his own money in his ventures and expected to remain a major shareholder for a long time.

2. Charles Ingersoll kept searching until he found the best man to assume the responsibility for operating the railroad. Then he encouraged open discussion and supported the decisions made regarding operations. There was obvious mutual respect between Charles Ingersoll and Worley Lefeber. After one dispute, Ingersoll said to Lefeber, "Worley, next to my sons and daughters I think most of you. I ask you to forget this and to tell me that you do." In his Remembrances, Lefeber noted that many years before, Ingersoll had sent him a personal letter with exactly the same comment. Lefeber kept that letter for the rest of his life. Sturgis Ingersoll also wrote that Lefeber "played an immensely important part in the life of the Ingersoll family."

3. Money was not spent lavishly but wisely. Lefeber treated every penny spent as if it were coming out of his own pocket and expected everyone else on the railroad to have the same attitude.

4. Ingersoll was enthusiastic about his ventures. When he died in 1932, his son Sturgis said that his father died "in happy certainty that the adventure--all business to Papa was an adventure -- embarked upon thirty years before was a marked success."

5. Finally, it, of course, was an advantage that during the heyday of the oil boom, the railroad was located through a territory that contained some of the most spectacular gushers seen in this or any other century.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Agnew, Brad, Fort Gibson: Terminal on the Trail of Tears, University of Oklahoma Press, Norman, Oklahoma, 1980.

Debo, Angie, A History of the Indians of the United States, University of Oklahoma Press, Norman, Oklahoma, 1970.

Hines, Gordon, Alfalfa Bill: An Intimate Biography, Oklahoma Press, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, 1932.

Howell, Joseph E., Midland Valley Railroad Celebrates Thirty-Fourth Anniversary, The Tulsa Tribune, Tulsa, Oklahoma, February 7, 1937, page 9.

Ingersoll. C. E., Correspondence between C.E. Ingersoll and son Harry, 1908-1917, Muskogee Company Collection, DeGolyer Library, Southern Methodist University, Dallas, Texas.

Ingersoll, R. Sturgis, A Family Chronicle, Special Collections, Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Irving, Washington, A Tour on the Prairies, Pantheon Books, New York, New York, 1967.

Jahoda, Gloria, The Trail of Tears, Holt Rinehart and Winston, New York, New York, 1975.

Lefeber, A.W., Midland Valley Railroad Company: A.W. Lefeber's Kind Remembrances of 51 Years (1903-1954) of Association with Mr. Charles Edward Ingersoll and Family (Without Access to the Railroad's Records and from Memory, Except as Quoted), Muskogee, Oklahoma, 1957, Muskogee Company Collection, DeGolyer Library, Southern Methodist University, Dallas, Texas.

Martin, Albro, Railroads Triumphant: The Growth, Rejection & Rebirth of a Vital American Force, Oxford University Press, New York, New York, 1992.

Ross, Kent, editor, Oklahoma: A Guide to the Sooner State, revised edition, University of Oklahoma Press, Norman, Oklahoma, 1957.

Shirley, Glenn, Red Yesterdays, Nortex Press, Wichita Falls, Texas, 1977.

Stein, Howard and F. Robert F. Hill, editors, The Culture of Oklahoma, University of Oklahoma Press, Norman, Oklahoma, 1993.

Wallis, Michael, Way Down Yonder in the Indian Nation, St. Martin's Press, New York, New York, 1993.

Weigley, Russell F., editor, Philadelphia: A 300-Year History, W.W. Norton & Company, New York, New York, 1982.

Wilson, James Grant and John Fiske, editors, Appleton's Cyclopaedia of American Biography, Vol. III, D. Appleton and Company, New York, New York, 1887.

Return to PAPERS
Return to Main Menu