I ambled over to Sinking Valley for my interview this issue. Come with me through the life and times of the Crawford family. The gentleman I spoke with is Foster Crawford, who relayed some interesting stories about his and his ancestors’ lives.
Foster’s family has been rooted in the “Valley” since the 1770s. The oldest Crawford to settle in the area was Foster’s great-great-grandfather James Crawford. James Crawford and his wife Eleanor (Orr) came to the area with their infant son, James Jr., settling near where Foster lives today. (The family would expand through time to eleven children in all.) They homesteaded in the Valley for only a short time, being forced to leave because of Indian raids in the area.
The young family moved back to Adams County, where they had lived before. Then, in 1780 the James Crawford family returned to the Valley. This time they brought cattle with them. The family was settling in but had not yet started to build their home. One day the cattle ran off and James went to find them. He found the cattle at a spring over the hill from where they were living. James liked this plot of land much better than his because the water supply was more plentiful. After learning that John Penn owned the land, James bought it. He paid 276 pounds, 10 shillings, and 72 pence for the new 355-acre tract.
James built their home on this farmland in 1790. Because the Crawfords feared the Indians, they built a small, stone fort near their home. The fort always was supplied with food, water, guns, and ammunition. If Indians attacked, James hoped that the family would be safe and could survive a long while there.
Later, the family home became an inn for travelers heading west. They would come up the road from Water Street through the Valley to the Crawford Inn and then on west over Skelp Mountain. The family inn is where young James Jr. met his future wife. The story goes that a family named Tubbs was traveling west and stopped overnight at the inn. James Jr. was quite smitten with the Tubbs’ daughter Eunice. In the morning the family left for Pittsburgh. James Jr. thought about Eunice for a short while after they had gone and decided to take a chance. He jumped on his horse bareback and chased after the family. He caught up with them on the top of Skelp Mountain. James Jr. asked Eunice if she would like to marry him and she accepted. The two youngsters rode back to the inn on James’ horse and the Tubbs family continued west.
James Jr. and his new wife lived a full life in Sinking Valley and were also blessed with eleven children. The Crawfords added more to their home in 1830. The home is still in the Valley and is owned today by the Thomas Crawford family.
The sixth child of James Jr. and Eunice was Foster F. (who was Foster’s grandfather). Foster F. married Louisa Tussey, and they had five children. The youngest was Ross F., who was Foster’s father. Ross married a local girl, Alma Waite. Alma and Ross had met at the Sinking Valley Presbyterian Church, where they both attended.
Alma and Ross F. had three sons. The oldest was Foster, who was born October 16, 1908. The two younger brothers were Kenneth and James II.
Foster noted that Sinking Valley had been settled earlier than Tyrone, Bellwood, Birmingham, Warriors Mark, and Spruce Creek. The people throughout the area came to church in Sinking Valley because of the safety provided by nearby Fort Roberdeau.
Foster recalls the days filled with hard work on his father’s farm. The only way to work the fields was by real “horse” power, the modern way at that time. In those early years Ross, his brother John, and brother-in-law John Burket would go together to buy a railroad car of cattle every fall. Eighteen steers were shipped from Chicago to Union Furnace. With the help of a half dozen other people, they met the train and drove the cattle back through the Valley. Foster was twelve years old when he participated in his first cattle drive. As they drove up the Valley, they dropped six cattle off at the Burket farm. Next was Uncle John Crawford’s farm, where six more cattle were dropped off. Ross’ farm was the last one to get his six cattle. Foster remembers the next seven months of feeding the steers. He would chop up ear corn with a hatchet every day to feed them. In the spring the gang gathered at Ross’ farm and would reverse the order of pickup and herd the cattle to Tyrone. The Hoover and Stanley’s Butcher Shop, on 10th Street, was the last stop for the cattle.
Foster remembers getting up at 6 a.m. to do barn work. Everything was done by hand back then. After the barn work was finished, he would come in, wash up, and eat breakfast. If it were winter, he would change clothes and go off to school. If it were summer, he would be off to the fields or do chores.
Foster went to a one-room school house next to St. John’s Lutheran Church. The school had first through eighth grades. Foster said, “You learned more in this kind of school because when you were not doing your own studies, you would be listening to other classes’ work. The sample of the new subjects to come kept your interest and the constant review reinforced what you had learned.”
After eighth grade one could go on to high school in Tyrone. Foster and his brothers went to high school because their parents wanted them to learn all they could. When Foster started high school he drove his father’s 1917 Buick touring car. Foster and his brother Kenneth would leave for school after their chores about 8:30 a.m. On the way they picked up Frank Fleck and Bob Roseberry, who also lived in the Valley.
Foster recalls vividly an embarrassing day in high school. A teacher came to get him out of class because his Buick had rolled down the hill and hit a tree. The mishap didn’t hurt the car, but the tree had to be replaced. Foster dug up a tree from the woods in the Valley to replace it; he believes his tree is still there. To this day, Foster still doesn’t know why the car rolled down the hill, but friends never let him forget it.
As youngsters, the “Valley kids” played baseball every Wednesday night. The Upper Valley played against the Lower Valley. The Crawford kids also played a lot of croquet — one of their favorites — every day except Sunday in the summer. One of his father’s rules was that no one in his family played games on the Sabbath. Foster remembers that Sunday was truly a day of rest, and only essential chores were done on that day.
When Foster graduated from high school in 1929, he went to work full time on the family farm. There were dances held at the local Sinking Valley Grange that he and his friends attended. At one of these dances he met Evelyn Stephens. Foster tells the story of going to the dance and seeing a nice-looking girl across the room. He decided to ask her for a dance but she felt ill and turned him down. Dejected, Foster went back across the room. A few dances later a cute girl by the name of Evelyn came up to him and asked why he wasn’t dancing. Foster told her that no one would dance with him. Evelyn smiled and said, “Maybe you should ask someone who is not sick!” Foster asked Evelyn to dance, and he was hooked from then on.
The two young lovebirds dated from then on, going to church and on long drives through the Valley. Evelyn was from Altoona, and she had an interesting address, 207 “Crawford” Avenue. The relationship grew and on June 15, 1935 at the Bethany Lutheran Church of Altoona, Evelyn became Mrs. Crawford.
Foster had planned ahead for the wedding expenses and honeymoon. The year before he had bought six pigs to raise to sell just for this fund. One pig died, but the other five reaped a whopping $10 each for $50. With the money Foster paid the minister a $10 fee to perform the wedding ceremony. The rest of the money he took along on the three-day honeymoon trip to Niagara Falls, Canada. The newlyweds returned home with $22.50 left of their fund. This was more than enough to buy the needed staples to stock the cupboards in their new home, which Foster had bought from Paul Wilson. The total of their first grocery bill was $9.92.
Evelyn, moving to the country to live, gave up many conveniences. She now had to hand-pump water from the spring that was piped only into her kitchen. She cooked on a coal- and wood-fired stove, which also produced their heat in winter. There was no electricity, which meant oil lamps were used everywhere at dusk. The original 1826 oil lamp used over the table of Foster’s great-grandfather is still in his home today, but has been converted to electric. The adjustment of using an outhouse and chamber pots was a step backward for this city girl from Altoona. In the end, Evelyn proved to be a “grand country girl.” She mastered all the household chores, and, according to Foster, she milked the cows better than he. Looking back, Foster believes it was Evelyn’s softer touch and her whistling of tunes while she milked that beat him out.
The year 1936 was a memorable one for the Fosters. First there was the great flood of March 17. Foster remembers going to Tyrone. He drove as far as Ironville and from there walked on the railroad bed to get to town since all the roads were flooded. The year was not all sadness, however. On May 9, 1936 Foster and Evelyn became parents to their first and only child — a son, Ross Eugene Crawford.
The lives of the Foster Crawford family continued with more improvements on the farm and in the home. However, Evelyn’s dream of electricity was slow in coming. Foster went to Pennsylvania Electric Company to see what the cost would be to provide service where he lived. He was told it would cost $1500, and he would have to clear the right-of-way and install the poles. The task seemed overwhelming but Foster wanted to give his wife her dream. His aunt, Alice Burket already had given them a refrigerator. Although Foster began clearing the right-of-way, the refrigerator would sit in their kitchen for the next two years waiting for power. In 1940 a representative of the REA Valley Rural Co-op came to see him and asked if he would join. If there were enough members, the co-op would provide electric power to the area. The fee to join was $5, and Foster thought that was a much cheaper way to get power. He joined, and on July 11, 1941 Evelyn moved into the modern age.
Soon after power came to the Crawfords, Evelyn started saving for her next electrical appliance. The very first thing she wanted was an electric iron. After struggling with the old irons that had to be heated on the cook stove, she did not wish to iron in that manner any longer.
Life in the Valley took another step forward with one of the first paved rural roads in Pennsylvania. It was the main route from Huntingdon to Altoona. The project was the result of a campaign promise made by Governor Pinchot in the late ’20s and early ’30s. Pinchot’s promise was “to get the farmers out of the mud.”
The Crawfords were active in the community and worked on the 1957 float from the Sinking Valley Grange for Tyrone’s Centennial parade. Foster pulled the float with his tractor.
Foster and Evelyn continued their lives as young lovebirds, going to Hawaii on their 25th wedding anniversary and then to Alaska for their 50th. Their 60th wedding anniversary was celebrated at their church. The following year, 1996, Foster’s beloved Evelyn passed away.
The Crawfords’ son Ross grew up in the Valley, going to the same schools as Foster. When Ross left school he joined the military. While stationed in Texas he met and married Beverly Wood. The couple had one daughter Regina. When I asked about Ross, Foster was quiet at first and then he told me of losing his son in August 1977 from complications resulting from an auto accident.
The many stories told to me in the trips to visit Foster are ones that capture your very soul. I will share just one more with you. In October 1780 some of Foster’s ancestors were scalped and killed by Indians at Yellow Springs, in Canoe Valley just beyond Water Street. They were Rebecca Dean and two of her children. The father Matthew and four older children were working in the nearby field planting rye. One noticed smoke coming from the direction of their home. They all hurried home to find the house in flames. When the fire was out, Matthew found his family inside massacred. This was Foster’s great-great-great-grandmother Margaret’s family. At the Keller Church cemetery you can read the story of this tragedy on their tombstone.
As I drove through the Valley with Foster, I saw the area in a different light. At every turn there was a historical story of someone or some event that had happened. Throughout Foster’s home is great history: from the iron cooking pot hanging in his basement fireplace (ready to use) that belonged to the first Crawfords to the bed several of his ancestors were born in that Foster sleeps in today. Foster has managed to move along with the modern world keeping his ancestors’ values.
Thanks Foster!
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