Memories of George H. Thayer
Some of the most fascinating items in our archives are handwritten histories of the people who lived here at the county’s beginning. This article is transcribed from original handwritten notes written by George H. Thayer, of Bourbon, when he was about 90 years old. Changes have been made for clarity, but the charm of the story is the way Thayer expresses it.
I was born in Broom County in the state of New York on December 29, 1807, but raised in Onondaga county about nine miles northwesterly from Syracuse, where my father settled early in the spring of 1808. My earliest recollections are of wild animals. Bears, wolves, deer and Indians. The last of whom were more plenty than white men. And the former more numerous than dogs and cats. Our house, built in the wood; the work of one week, seemed to be in the runway of the wolves as they often passed it. On the first night of our lodging in it, they came so near the doorway, (then was no door) that their eyes were seen through it. My father stood on guard with his axe to defend his wife and three infant children from their attack. They resented this interference with their right of way. They gnashed their teeth, flashed their eyes and growled, but finally went on without further demonstration. Indians often called on us like neighbors and sometimes passed the night with us. I have often sat on the lap of old Henry as freely as on that of my uncles. One, saucy Tate, as we called him, sometimes made trouble. When he had some whiskey in him and wanted more. When he found women alone, he would scare them by drawing his knife. He tried that once on my mother, but a rushing attack with the broomstick soon made him retreat in disorder and he never rallied his forces.
In the summer of 1811, a school was opened by a daughter of one of the settlers, and for four days I gave attendance, going two miles