Winnie Griggs

Winnie’s Winners!

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Hello! Thanks to everyone who stopped by this week to join in the conversation about parlor games of yesterday and today. I loved all the personal memories you shared and they brought back so many memories of my own.

I threw the names of all the commenters in a hat and pulled out the following:

Sarah Gunter
Kim Hansen

Congratulations! You have won your choice of a signed copy of any of my 2-in-1 books. To find a list, please visit my BOOKS PAGE and go all the way down to the bottom section. Once you’ve decided which book you want, contact me at winnie @ winniegriggs.com (no spaces) with the title and your mailing info and I’ll get it on out to you.

Evenings Before Electricity – How Families Passed the Time

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Hello everyone, Winnie Griggs here. I hope everyone had as lovely a Mother’s Day weekend as I had.

My family has always been big on board games – really any kind of family game, including more than a few versions of card games and dominoes. But over the past several years, life has gotten in the way, and we haven’t been able to play together as a group.

That changed a couple of weeks ago when we decided to revive our monthly game night, and it was sooooo much fun. Eight of us gathered around the dining room table, and there were plenty of challenges, strategy, a fair bit of shifting alliances, and most of all, laughter.

Of course, families have been finding ways to gather and pass the time together for generations. Back in the late nineteenth century, before the internet, before television, before electricity, before all the distractions we take for granted today, those evenings looked a little different.

As daylight faded and the lamps were lit, families drew together, filling the evening with shared tasks, conversation, and quiet entertainment.

For most families, evenings began to settle in right after supper. Once the day’s work was done and the dishes cleared, the household would gather in whatever room offered the best light and warmth – often the kitchen or main living area. Illumination came from candles, oil lamps, or maybe a fireplace, which meant light was limited and precious.

But that didn’t mean evenings were dull – far from it.

Conversation was a central part of daily life. Families talked. They shared news, discussed the events of the day, and caught up on what neighbors might be doing. In small towns, where everyone’s lives were more closely intertwined, this kind of exchange helped keep the community connected.

There were also quiet tasks that filled the hours. Mending clothes, shelling peas, whittling, or other small handwork often took place in the evenings. These weren’t seen as chores so much as part of the natural rhythm of the day, something to be done while visiting and passing the time together.

And of course, there was entertainment.

Games have been around for centuries, and many of them would feel familiar even today. Card games, checkers, dominoes, and simple parlor games were popular ways to pass the time. Storytelling was another favorite – sometimes recounting family history, sometimes sharing humorous tales, and sometimes retelling stories that had been handed down through generations.

Reading aloud was also common, especially in households where books or newspapers were available. One person might read while the others listened, turning it into a shared experience rather than a solitary one.

Music often found its place in the evening as well. A fiddle, a harmonica, or a piano if one was available could turn an ordinary night into something special. Even singing together – be it hymns, folk songs, or favorite tunes – was a way of winding down the day.

 

What stands out to me is how intentional these evenings must have been. With limited light and no outside distractions, people turned naturally toward one another. Time wasn’t something to fill so much as something to share.

It makes our modern “game night” feel a little less like a novelty and a little more like a return to something that’s always been important – simply spending time together.

What about you – do you have a regular game night or another simple tradition that helps you slow down and connect with family or friends? Share here for a chance to be entered in the drawing for an autographed copy of one of my books.

Winnie’s Winners!

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Thanks to everyone who stopped by on Monday to discuss all things spring cleaning – it was fun reading the very varied perspectives on the topic.

I threw all the names in a big cyber-hat and pulled out the following:

Karijean

Julie Bullock

Congratulations ladies! You’ve won a signed copy of your choice of any of my books. (You can find a list of available titles HERE)  Once you’ve made your selection, contact me (email or facebook DM) with the title and your mailing info and I’ll get it on out to you

Spring Cleaning – 19th Century Style

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Hello – Winnie Griggs here. With spring settling in across my corner of Louisiana, I’ve started noticing that familiar urge to open the windows, let in some fresh air, and maybe tackle a few long-postponed chores around the house. It’s something many of us think of as “spring cleaning”.

It got me wondering what that looked like for folks living back in the late 1800s, so of course I had to do a little research. And as it turns out, spring cleaning back then wasn’t just a good idea – it was practically a necessity.

Why Spring Cleaning Mattered

During the winter months, homes were kept tightly closed up against the cold. Wood stoves and fireplaces burned day and night, leaving behind soot and ash that settled on just about every surface. Fresh air was in short supply, and by the time spring arrived, things could feel a bit…stale.

So when the weather finally warmed, it wasn’t just about tidying up – it was about restoring a home to something fresh and livable again.

Not Just on the Surface

And when I say cleaning, I don’t mean a quick once-over.

Rugs were hauled outside and beaten to remove months of dust. Bedding and mattresses were carried into the sunshine to air out. Curtains were taken down and washed, which was no small task when every bit of it had to be done by hand.

Floors were scrubbed, often on hands and knees. Walls might be wiped down, especially in areas where soot had built up. Windows were thrown open and cleaned to let in as much light and fresh air as possible.

It was hard, time-consuming work – the kind that could take days to complete.

There were no shelves of cleaning products to choose from, of course. Most families relied on homemade solutions.

Lye soap was a common staple – effective, but harsh. Scrub brushes, rags, buckets, and a good bit of elbow grease did the rest. And spring cleaning often doubled as a time to take stock – deciding what needed mending, what needed replacing, and what had simply worn out over the winter.

A Town-Wide Effort

In a small town, this wasn’t something happening in isolation.

Chances are, your neighbors were doing the same thing at the same time. Doors and windows would be open, rugs draped over fences, voices carrying from one yard to the next. There may have even been a bit of neighborly helping going on – especially when it came to heavier tasks.

It created a kind of shared rhythm – a sense that the whole town was shaking off winter together and stepping into something new.

Not Just Inside the Home

Of course, it wasn’t just the inside of the house that got attention this time of year.

Barns and stables needed clearing after a long winter, with fresh bedding laid down and repairs made where weather and wear had taken their toll. In a small town, the livery stable would have been especially busy – stalls mucked out, doors and hinges checked, and everything set back in good working order.

Harnesses and saddles were cleaned and oiled, wagon wheels inspected, and tools sharpened in preparation for the months ahead. Fences might be repaired, sheds cleared, and yards straightened up after winter storms.

Spring was also a common time to whitewash fences, outbuildings, or even parts of a home’s exterior.

And for many families, attention also turned to the kitchen garden. Beds were cleared of winter debris, the soil turned and worked, and early plantings set in as soon as the ground allowed. It was another sign of the season shifting – not just putting things back in order, but preparing for what would grow in the months ahead.

All of it was part of the same seasonal shift – a quiet but steady effort to move from the stillness of winter into the activity of spring.

More Than Just Cleaning

And maybe that’s the part I find most interesting.

Spring cleaning wasn’t only about dust and dirt. It marked a turning point. A chance to put winter behind you and look ahead to planting, travel, gatherings, and all the activity that came with warmer days.

In a way, it was as much about clearing out the old as it was about making room for what was to come.

 

 We may have more conveniences today, but that pull toward a fresh start each spring hasn’t really changed. There’s still something satisfying about opening the windows, letting in the breeze, and putting things back in order after a long season.

Maybe that’s why the idea of spring cleaning has lasted this long – because deep down, it’s never really been just about cleaning. It’s about fresh starts, open windows, and the quiet hope that a new season might bring something better with it.

What about you – do you have a spring cleaning routine you follow each year, do you change things up from time to time, or is it something you tend to put off as long as possible? Leave aa comment about this or any aspect of this post to be entered in a drawing for a signed copy of one of my books.

Winnie’s Winners

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Hello everyone. A big thank you to everyone who dropped by to join the conversation on earthquakes earlier this week. Some of your stories were really eye-poppin. I put the names of all those who stopped by in a cyber hat and randomly selected

Danielle B 

Valri Western

Congratulations – you have each one a signed book of your choice from my backlist (You can find a list HERE). Once you’ve selected, send me  the title along with your mailing info and I’ll get the book right on out to you.

A Ground-Breaking Post

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Hello – Winnie Griggs here. Earlier today (Thursday) I heard news that caught my attention – an earthquake had been recorded about eighty miles south of where I live here in NW Louisiana. Even more surprising, it registered as a 4.9, making it the largest earthquake ever recorded inland in the state (There was a 5.2 registered offshore about 20 years ago). Luckily there weren’t any reports of serious injuries or property damage.

While we’re used to hurricanes, tornadoes and the occasional ice storm, earthquakes aren’t one of the natural disasters normally associated with my home state. That got me wondering what earthquakes must have been like for folks living in the Old West, long before modern seismology explained what was happening beneath the ground. Naturally this event sent me down one of my research rabbit holes.

Without modern scientific explanations, earthquakes could be deeply unsettling events. Many people initially assumed the shaking was caused by thunder, a mine explosion, or even distant artillery fire. It sometimes took time for residents to realize that towns across an entire region had felt the same tremor.

When we think of earthquakes in the USA, most folks usually think of California – events like the great San Francisco earthquake of 1906, the Owens Valley earthquake of 1872, or the Hayward earthquake of 1868.

In 1872, in California’s Owens Valley a particularly powerful and destructive earthquake struck. Often called the Lone Pine earthquake, it’s estimated to have been somewhere between magnitude 7.5 and 7.8. Much of the town of Lone Pine was destroyed as buildings collapsed, chimneys toppled, and the ground itself cracked open in places.   Newspaper accounts from the time give us a vivid sense of what people experienced. One report described the moment this way:

“The shock came with a deep rumbling sound, and the earth rocked so violently that people could scarcely keep their feet. Buildings swayed, chimneys fell, and citizens rushed into the streets in alarm.”

Another observer later wrote that the ground seemed to move “like waves upon the sea.”

Of course, the earthquake most people think of when California is mentioned is the great San Francisco earthquake of 1906. That disaster struck early in the morning on April 18 and devastated the city. The shaking itself caused widespread damage, but the greatest destruction came from the fires that followed. With water mains broken and fire crews struggling to respond, flames swept through neighborhood after neighborhood. By the time the disaster ended, much of San Francisco had been destroyed and hundreds of thousands of residents were left homeless.

But earthquakes aren’t limited to the west coast. Tremors have been recorded in places like Texas, Colorado, Oklahoma—and yes, even Louisiana. The Rocky Mountain states, including Montana and Wyoming, have experienced their share as well.

While California experienced many of the best-known earthquakes, other parts of the American West were not immune. A powerful quake struck along the Arizona–Mexico border in 1887, sending tremors across much of the Southwest. The Rocky Mountain region – including parts of Montana and Wyoming – has also experienced periodic seismic activity caused by geological forces deep beneath the mountains.

Even the Mississippi River Valley has a remarkable earthquake history. A series of massive earthquakes struck near New Madrid, Missouri, in 1811 and 1812. These shocks were so powerful they were felt across much of the young United States, and church bells reportedly rang in Boston more than a thousand miles away. According to the US Geological Survey, the New Madrid earthquake was 10 times large than that of the 1906 San Francisco earthquake.

During the strongest shocks, witnesses reported that the Mississippi River itself appeared to run backward for a short time as powerful waves surged upstream before the river returned to its normal flow. I blogged about that several years ago – you can find it HERE.

 

A Few Earthquake Tidbits;

  • Large earthquakes could leave dramatic marks on the land. After the 1872 Owens Valley quake, observers reported ground fissures several feet wide and stretches of earth that had shifted dramatically.
  • After major earthquakes, springs sometimes appeared in new places and wells occasionally went dry—changes that could be alarming in communities where water was vital.
  • Animals were often said to behave strangely before earthquakes. Horses and livestock sometimes became restless shortly before the shaking began.
  • Early settlers sometimes mistook earthquakes for mine explosions, thunder, or distant cannon fire.
  • Aftershocks could continue for weeks or even months, which made some residents reluctant to sleep indoors for a time.
  • Much of what we know about earthquakes in the Old West comes from newspaper accounts, letters, and diaries, since modern seismology was still in its infancy.

Hearing about the earthquake near my home today made me grateful it did such minor damage. Still, it’s fascinating to realize that people living in the Old West occasionally faced the same unsettling experience of feeling the ground move beneath their feet.

What about you? Did any of this information surprise you?  Do you have any personal experience with an earthquake you can share with us? Leave a comment to be entered in a drawing for a signed copy of any of my available books.

 

Winnie’s Winners

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Thanks to everyone who stopped by to leave comments on my post about dentistry in the old west – it was fun hearing your stories. I randomly selected two names for my giveaway – they are:

Rhonda McDermitt

Cherie J

Congratulations ladies! You’ve won your choice of a signed copy of any of my books. You can find a list of my books on my website HERE  Once you’ve made your selection, email me with the title and your mailing info and I Ill get the book on out to you.

Dental Care in the Old West

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Hello – Winnie Griggs here. If you were in the path of the latest winter storm, I hope you stayed warm and safe. Here in northwest Louisiana, we had an unusual-for-us amount of snow and ice that brought much of daily life to a standstill.

I took advantage of the downtime to get a head start on this blog. While searching for a topic, I paged forward on my calendar and discovered that today, February 9th, is National Toothache Day (ugh – made my jaw ache just to think about it!). That, in turn, made me wonder how tooth trouble was actually handled by people in the American West.

I mean, I know how it’s usually depicted in Western novels, movies, and television shows. The familiar image usually involves a grimacing patient, a pair of pliers, and a generous dose of whiskey.

But I thought I’d dive deeper, do some research, and see if I could discover just how true-to-life that was. And what I found was that while there is some truth behind that picture, it represents only part of the story. And usually the earliest and roughest part at that. In reality, dental care on the frontier evolved over time, improving steadily as towns grew, training expanded, and access increased. Below is a summary of what I learned.

 

Early 1800s

In the early decades of the nineteenth century, dentistry was not yet a clearly defined profession, especially in frontier regions. Tooth problems were often handled by whoever was available and willing, including physicians, barber-surgeons, or occasionally a well-meaning neighbor or family member.

Extraction was often the only option once pain became severe. Preventive care was minimal, and pain relief was limited to home remedies or alcohol. Many people simply endured toothaches as long as they could, knowing that treatment options were few and often unpleasant.

This era, more than any other, is where many of the grim legends of Western dentistry originate.

 

Mid-1800s

As settlement pushed westward and towns became more established, dental care began to change. Dentistry was becoming recognized as a profession. One thing that surprised me was that traveling or itinerant dentists popped up during this time. Some had formal training, while others learned through apprenticeship or experience, and the quality of care could vary widely.

These itinerant dentists often announced their arrival ahead of time. They would set up temporary offices in hotel rooms or rented storefronts and stay just long enough to treat as many patients as possible before moving on to the next town. Their arrival was often welcome news, since even temporary access to dental care was better than waiting months, or even years, for help.

During this period, people typically tried home remedies first. Clove oil, herbal poultices, and alcohol were commonly used to dull pain or soothe inflammation. Tooth extraction was still common, but it was often delayed until pain became unbearable or infection set in. This is also the period most often depicted in popular culture—and often exaggerated for dramatic effect.

1880–1895

This was a time of real progress for dentistry and it also happens to be the timeframe where I set most of my stories. Dentistry became increasingly recognized as a distinct profession. Dental schools were more established, professional standards were improving, and trained dentists were far more common than many people (myself included!) realize, particularly in larger towns and railroad hubs.

Dental tools had improved, and while procedures were still uncomfortable by modern standards, they were often more controlled and deliberate. In better-equipped settings, anesthetics such as ether or chloroform might be used, though access varied depending on location and resources.

That said, progress was uneven. A resident of a well-connected town might have access to competent dental care, while someone living miles from the nearest rail line could still face long delays or limited options. Toothaches remained a serious concern—not just a matter of discomfort, but a threat to health, livelihood, and daily function.

 

Everyday Reality Across the Frontier

No matter the decade, tooth pain could interfere with nearly every aspect of life. Eating, sleeping, and working became difficult. Infections could spread, sometimes with dangerous consequences. Winter months made matters worse, limiting travel and access to care.

Because of this, dental care, however imperfect, was taken seriously. People feared toothaches not because they were weak, but because they understood the risks of letting them go untreated.

 

A Few Old West Dentistry Tidbits

  • Early telegraph, railroad, and mining towns were more likely to attract trained dentists due to steady populations and income.
  • Many early dentists traveled from town to town, staying only as long as there was enough work to justify the stop.
  • Skilled dentists in the late 1800s often emphasized preservation over extraction whenever possible, reflecting growing knowledge and professionalism.
  • A skilled practitioner could extract a tooth quickly, but accuracy mattered as much as speed—mistakes could lead to serious complications.
  • On the subject of dental hygiene, toothbrushes did exist by the late nineteenth century, though regular brushing wasn’t yet a universal habit. Some people used manufactured brushes, while others relied on cloths, chew sticks, or tooth powders to clean their teeth.

Looking back, dental care in the Old West wasn’t quite as crude or hopeless as I’d always imagined. It wasn’t uniformly primitive, and by the late nineteenth century, real strides had been made—even if access still depended on where you lived. I’ve dealt with toothaches myself – not fun! So what strikes me most is the grit of everyday people who coped with toothaches when options were limited, and the very real gratitude they must have felt when skilled help was finally available.

So there you have it. Did any of this change your previous view of what dental care was like in the old west? Leave a comment to be entered in a drawing for a signed copy of one of my books.

 

 

Winnie’s Winners

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Thanks to everyone who came by to discuss telegraphy with me – enjoyed reading each and every comment. I threw all the names in a cyber-hat and pulled out the following three:

Quilt Lady
Sharon J.
Debra Guyette
Congratulations! You’ve each won a signed copy of your choice of any book from my backlist (You can find a complete list HERE.) Once you’ve made your choice, send me the title and your mailing info and I’ll get your book right on out to you,

The Wires That Changed the West

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Hello everyone – Winnie Griggs here. I hope you all had a joyful and blessed Christmas and that 2026 is starting out well for you.

Yesterday—January 11—marked the birthday of Ezra Cornell, one of the founders of Western Union. That bit of calendar trivia caught my attention because I’m beginning work on a new story which has a heroine who’s a telegrapher. As often happens, one small detail led me down a research rabbit trail—and I thought it would be fun to share a bit of that history with you today, along with some telegraph trivia.

Western Union was founded in 1851, at a time when the United States was expanding rapidly westward. What began as a network of regional telegraph lines soon grew into a nationwide system as smaller companies merged and new wires were strung across vast distances.

As railroads pushed west, telegraph lines often followed alongside them. By the late 1860s and 1870s, telegraph offices could be found in cities, railroad depots, military posts, and many small frontier towns. Messages that once took days or weeks to arrive by mail could now be sent in minutes.

For communities in the American West, this changed everything. News traveled faster. Businesses operated more efficiently. Law enforcement and railroads coordinated more safely. Families separated by miles of open country could remain connected—at least in brief, carefully worded messages.

Construction of telegraph lines with Pony Express rider in foreground

And of course, as the territory the wires reached grew so did the need for telegraphers. Telegraphy was skilled work. Operators had to learn Morse code, develop speed and accuracy, and be able to translate rapid clicks into written messages without error. Training came through private telegraph schools, which often lasted three to six months, or through apprenticeships and on-the-job instruction in telegraph or railroad offices.

By the late 19th century, a notable number of telegraphers were women. Historians estimate that roughly 20–30 percent of telegraph operators in the United States were female by the 1880s and 1890s, with even higher percentages in some locations. For many women, telegraphy offered something rare for the era—respectable work, steady wages, and a measure of independence.

Skilled operators often developed what was known as a telegrapher’s “hand.” Just as handwriting varies from person to person, so did the rhythm and cadence of Morse code. Experienced telegraphers could sometimes recognize one another simply by listening to the pattern of taps coming through the sounder.

During the 19th century, the telegraph was not an automatic system. A trained operator had to be present, listening to the sounder, for a message to be received.

You may have seen telegraph recorder tapes in old photographs or classic movies—long strips of paper embossed with dots and dashes. Early telegraph systems did include recording registers, but by the late nineteenth century many offices, especially in smaller Western towns, had moved away from them. The machines were slower and could be mechanically finicky, and they required extra steps to translate the markings into readable text. Skilled operators could receive messages more quickly and accurately by ear, so the sounder became the preferred tool in most everyday offices.

Which meant if a message was sent while the telegrapher was away from the desk in one of these small Western towns, it simply wasn’t received. The sending office would get no acknowledgment and would try again later. There was no visual alert, no saved record, and no way for the operator to know a message had been attempted.

In shared spaces—such as a railroad depot—someone nearby might hear the sounder clicking and later mention that the wire was active. But unless that person was trained in Morse code, they wouldn’t know who sent the message or what it concerned. As it does today, timing mattered and could even be critical – but delays were simply part of life on the wire.

A Few Telegraph-related Tidbits

  • Telegraph messages were typically billed by the word, encouraging brevity—and sometimes confusion.
  • Early telegraph companies experimented with burying insulated wires underground, often in pipes, but moisture quickly made the lines unreliable. Stringing wires on poles proved far more practical and became the standard across the West.
  • Operators often worked long or irregular hours, especially when tied to train schedules.
  • Telegraph offices were rarely silent; the frequent clicking of the sounder became part of the background noise of daily life.
  • In many towns, the telegraph office was the first place news arrived, making the operator one of the best-informed people in the community.
  • Reliability mattered. In many towns, the telegrapher was one of the most quietly important people in the community, and their discretion was a key requirement.
  • Skilled operators commonly transmitted 20–30 words per minute, with especially fast telegraphers exceeding that speed.
  • Accuracy mattered as much as speed; a single missed word could delay a train or change the meaning of a message entirely.

Learning more about the telegraph and the people who worked it has given me a deeper appreciation for the skill and responsibility involved in keeping those lines of communication open across miles of open country.

Did any of this information surprise you? Do you think you would have made a good telegrapher—and if not, what part of the job would you have found the most challenging? Leave a comment to be entered in a drawing for a signed copy of one of my books.