“In all of us there is a hunger, marrow-deep, to know our heritage- to know who we are and where we have come from. Without this enriching knowledge, there is a hollow yearning. No matter what our attainments in life, there is still a vacuum, an emptiness, and the most disquieting loneliness.” ― Alex Haley

I’ve described myself as both a hunter and a gatherer when it comes to writing about Pennsylvania’s past. Sharing the stories of the people who have helped shape Pennsylvania's history provides a snapshot into the lives of those who have led the way.

I featured a previous story from Doctor William J. McKnight, of Brookville Jefferson County. He was a physician, legislator, and historian. This article comes from his book, A Pioneer Outline History of Northwestern Pennsylvania. He reminisces about his early life in Brookville.

“In the summer and fall months, the amusements were alley-ball behind the courthouse, town ball, over-ball, sock-ball, fishing in the streams and in Geer's pond, riding floats of slabs on the creek, swimming in the " deep hole," and gathering blackberries, crab-apples, wild plums, and black and yellow haws. But the amusement of all amusements, the one that was enjoyed every day in the year by the boys, was the cutting of firewood. The wood for heating and cooking was generally hauled in " drags" to the front door of each house on Main Street, and there cut on the " pile" by the boys of each house. The gathering of hazelnuts, butternuts, hickory nuts, and chestnuts was an agreeable and profitable recreation.”

McKnight goes on to describe other aspects of his early life, including his mother’s kitchen.

“In 1840 every housewife in Brookville cooked over a fireplace, in which a crane was fastened so as to swing in, out, off, on, and over the fire. Every fireplace had a wooden poker, a pair of tongs to handle burning wood, and a shovel to remove the ashes.

The fuel used was wood, — pine, maple, oak, birch, and hickory. To every fire there had to be a “back log," and the smaller or front pieces were supported on " andirons" or common stones. Matches were not in use; hence fires were covered at night so as to preserve some live coals for the morning fire. Rich people had a little pair of bellows to blow these live coals into a blaze, but poor people had to do the best they could with their mouths. After having nearly smoked my eyes out trying to blow coals into life, I have had to give it up and go to a neighbor to borrow a shovel of fire. Some old settlers used " spunk," a flint, and a Barlow knife to start a fire in an emergency like this. Spunk—punk or touchwood—was obtained from the inside of a hollow white maple tree. When matches were first brought around great fear was entertained that they might burn everybody out of house and home. My mother secured a tin box with a safe lid in which to keep hers. For some reason they were called locofoco [1] matches.

The crane in the fireplace had a set of rods with hooks on each end, and they were graduated in length so as to hang the kettle at the proper height from the fire. In addition to the kettles, we had the long-handled frying pan, the handle of which had to be supported by someone’s hand, or else on a box or a chair. Then there was the three-legged, short-handled spider. It could support itself. And I must not forget the griddle for buckwheat cakes. It had to be suspended by a rod on the crane. Then there was the old bake kettle, or oven, with legs and a closely fitted cover. In this was baked the "pone" [2] for the family. I can say truthfully that pone was not used more than thirty days in the month.

This was a hard way to cook. Women would nearly break their backs lifting these heavy kettles on and off, burn their faces, smoke their eyes, singe their hair, blister their hands, and " scorch" their clothes. Our spoons were pewter and iron; knives and forks were iron with bone handles. The chinaware was about as it is now. The everyday bonnet of women then was the " sunbonnet" for summer, and a quilted " hood" for winter. The dress bonnet was made of paper or leghorn and was in shape something like our coal scuttles.

In 1840 nearly every wife in Brookville milked a cow and churned butter. The cows were milked at the front door on Main Street. These cows were ornery, ill-looking, ill-fed, straw-stealing, and blue-milk giving creatures. The water with which to wash clothes and do the scrubbing was caught in barrels or tubs from the house roof. Scrubbing the floors of a house had to be attended to regularly once a week. This scrubbing had to be done with powdered sand and a homemade " split broom."

Every wife had to make her own soap, bake her own bread, sew and dye all the clothes for the family, spin the wool for and knit the mittens and socks, make the coverlets, quilt the quilts, see that the children's shoes for Sunday were greased with tallow every Saturday night, nurse the sick, give " sheep saffron" for the measles, and do all the cooking. All this too without " protection, tariff, rebate, or combine." About every family had a cow, dog, cat, pig, geese, and chickens. The town gave these domestic animals the right to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." Of course, under these unsanitary conditions, the town was alive with fleas, and every house was full of bedbugs. Bats were numerous, and the "public opinion" then was that the bats brought the bedbugs. This may be given as an illustration of the correctness of public opinion.”

McKnight opened his medical practice in Brookville in 1859. He was appointed by Governor Andrew Curtain as a Civil War examiner surgeon for Jefferson and Forest Counties. He served as Quartermaster Sergeant in Company G of the 57th Pennsylvania Emergency Militia for two months during the Civil War in 1863. 

McKnight served in the Pennsylvania State Senate from 1881-1884, representing the 37th district of Indiana and Jefferson Counties. He died, on October 12, at the age of 82 in Brookville, Jefferson County.