UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
Monday, December 2, 1996
10
"If more African Americans knew of Nicodemus they would have a lot more pride. Many African Americans would see the hope and promise that it represents."
Maurice Miller
Minister of Nicodemus Baptist Church
Nicodemus
the Past,the Present,the Pride
Minerva and George Sayers were born and raised in Nicodemus, and are elated to see Nicodemus get its National Historic Site status. They were the children of original settlers in Nicodemus, and said that today's generation will carve on their heritage.
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"The opportunity to start anew. The opportunity to pursue all their desires without having the issue of color, of race, to restrict them. All this is what drew African Americans to Nicodemus," Dandridge said.
Railroads of the west were the arteries that pumped life into a frontier town. Whether a community had a rail line or not determined whether it thrived or died.
In the fall of 1887, Nicodemus received what would have been for most towns a death sentence: The Missouri-Pacific Railroad passed the town by, deciding to go through nearby Bogue instead.
"When that happened, people said, 'Hell, let's just pack up and move out of here,'" Dandridge explained.
And that is exactly what they did.
The town went through a boom period early in its development, at one time boasting more than 700 residents. But it quickly began to fade.
By the mid-1880's, the residents of the town were in a struggle with surrounding communities to attract a railroad.
People moved away. Business owners literally picked up their wooden structures and moved them to Bogue, six miles to the southwest, and the spirit and morale of Nicodemus began to dwindle.
"Its demise was typical of a frontier town. If a railroad passed it by, down it went." Dandridge said.
And Nicodemus simply would have faded away if it had been a typical town.
This small town may seem irrelevant to some, but Dandridge realizes Nicodemus' significance on a larger scale.
"The African-American tradition of perseverance played a fundamental role in their ability to survive." Dandridge said.
"While Nicodemus as a town has declined significantly in the 20th century, the importance of preserving the records is that Nicodemus defines itself outside of geographical bounds," she said. "It is a community without geographical bounds."
Andy Rohrback/KANBAN
Although Nicodemus never has recovered economically from the 1880s, it has tried desperately to hold onto its history.
A push for national historic site designation had been going on for years, but never got rolling until a descent of the first settlers in Nicodemus came back to the town.
"I want Nicodemus to become a Mecca for African Americans," said Bates, president of the Nicodemus Historical Society. "I want it to become a place where people can come and experience the spirituality of what came before."
Bates, whose genealogy goes back to the first settlers on both sides of her family, has worked tirelessly to promote the town's history.
She has traveled to give presentations about Nicodemus to various groups, asked politicians to introduce legislation into Congress and kept the spirit of the town alive.
In 1990, Angela Bates-Tompkins returned to the town in which she was raised and began a quest for the historic site status.
Edmée Roddrunz / KARL
On Nov. 12, Bates' and the other residents' hard work paid off. President Clinton signed the Omnibus Parks and Public Lands Management Act of 1996.
Included in that bill was the designation of Nicodemus as a National Historic Site.
The designation allows the town to qualify for help from the National Park Service, which was desperately needed to learn how to stabilize and restore the few historical buildings left on the township.
Nicodemus' legislation originally had been
Former Senator Sheila Frahm provided the final push for the designation in the Senate, and Senator Pat Roberts, former First District Congressman, gave it support in the House.
" its status was just languishing. It hadn't gotten the right push," said Frahm. "I was just in a place to rattle a care. It had to be done."
Frahm said that the importance of preserving Nicodemus was obvious.
"I think the kind of settlement it was is unique," she said. "It wasn't going to last if we didn't do some specific work."
introduced by former Senator Bob Dole.
Roberts said that the lessons of Nicodemus' history are ones that needed to be kept secure.
"What this does is preserve part of our history in such a way that will make future generations aware of what Kansas was all about.
"The struggle for individual opportunity and civil rights is always ongoing, and Nicodemus really represents that," Roberts said.
"If we didn't receive the status, we would become a ghost town," Bates said. "Getting it was a sigh of relief. But, this is only one step. Yes, it is a major one, but I know what lies ahead — planning, building, interpreting the history. This is where the work truly begins."
People who live in Nicodemus were elated with the legislation, but Bates said she realized what the future held.
And work they will have. The town will receive most technical support from the government: a survey of the buildings and some initial work on what must be done immediately to save them.
What the residents of the town are
Above: Four setters stand in front of their newly-built, turn-of-the-century home.
relying on is the exposure that comes with the site status. Their only hope is to receive money through donations and fundraising.
Right: The original Baptist church and Foster William's general store can be seen in the background of this photo of Nicodemus' main street in 1885.
But some residents aren't waiting for those outside funds.
Veryl Switzer, the son of Ora,
stands outside of the house where
he was born and raised, one of the
historic buildings slated for restoration.
It is the old St. Francis hotel,
and it has been in Switzer's family
since it was built in 1881.
Back in 1954, he spent $10,000 on a new roof, replacing the old one torn off by the winds.
The original owner, Zach Fletcher, was Switzer's great-great-uncle, and the building has been passed down to family member's since then.
After high school, he received a scholarship to play football for Kansas State University. After being named an All-American there, he played running back and defensive safety on the Green Bay Packers' 1954 and 1955 teams.
Aside from being one of the earliest permanent buildings in Nicodemus, it served as the oldest recorded African-American operated U.S. post office.
But all of these facts are not that important to Switzer. On this afternoon, the significance of the building is pretty simple.
Now, as the Associate Athletic Director at KSU, Switzer still makes weekend trips back to Nicodemus, his home and the place that has taught him so much about living.
"Most folks wanted to move away from the concept of slavery, so we didn't get much of that history," Switzer said of his early years in Nicodemus. "We didn't have an appetite for people telling us our history.
"It has always been home. It is just a home," Switzer said, as he steadled his cap against the wind. "A place where I could always come and live."
Switzer has traveled far from the boundaries of Nicodemus since leaving for the first time.
Switzer turns and looks up at his old home. Eyes squinting from the sun, he seems secure with Nicodemus' place in history.
"But we had to overcome that. We had to teach ourselves what Nicodemus meant to us."
For him, its future will match the Kansas winds that have always inhabited this place: constant, strong, and enduring.
The photo to the right was provided by the Kansas State Historical Society, Topka, Kan. All other contributed photos were provided by the Kansas Collection, University of Kansas Libraries.
CONTRIBUTED PHOTOS
The future of Nicodemus is represented in Ashler Batesa (left), Ceola Miller (center) and Maurice Miller. Here they talk in front of the old Nicodemus School, which was built in 1918 on the site of the old school house, built around 1885, which burned down. The school is one of many buildings slated for restoration. Beginning today, a team of structural preservationists from Santa Fe, N.M., will begin working on the historic African Methodist Episcopal church.
New generation says Nicodemus is worth saving
By Bradley Brooks
The old, stone general store that his father owned, and where he was born, is already gone.
George Sayers, 94, who was born in Nicodemus and spent most of his life there, thinks the recent surge to save Nicodemus' history is wonderful. But it may be too little, too late.
"It ain't there now, that old building, I sure hated to see them tear that down," Sayers said. "But I feel good that we got the historic site. Nicodemus has so much history, but all the old folks are gone, and the young folks don't know what happened back in 1877."
But if life is to be breathed into Nicodemus, it will take not only the elders' wisdom, but the younger generations' determination and desire to come back to this place on the eastern edge of Graham County, halfway between Kansas City and Denver.
Maurice Miller, 23, and his wife Ceola, 20,
plan to make Nicodemus their home.
"I want to go to college, come back, and do what my aunt is doing now." Bates said. "I want to let people know that there is an all-Black town west of the Mississippi and that they could have ancestors here that they don't know about."
Miller, a student at Kansas State University, first learned of Nicodemus when he did research for an academic paper. He fell in love with the community and its people, and they asked him to take over preaching at the Baptist Church.
"I feel like there is a reason for me being here," Miller said. "It is a very personal thing for me. I am going to shine a light on something that should always be shining — the history of Nicodemus."
"I'll have to make history come alive. I want people to learn the history and never forget it." Bates said.
Angela Bates, 44, said that she hoped whatever she instilled in her niece will keep Ashley interested in Nicodemus' history, something that must be done for it to survive.
Ashley Bates, 13, the niece of Angela Bates-Tompkins, who leads the fight to preserve Nicodemus' history today, seems to be a typical, carefree seven grade. But when the subject of Nicodemus' history arises, she takes on a serious demeanor.
Bates said that her aunt wouldn't always be able to lead the effort to save Nicodemus history, and she plans to take on that task when she is older.
"If more African Americans knew of Nicodemus, they would have a lot more pride. Many African Americans would see the hope and promise that it represents," he said.
Miller said that, despite its recent historical status, Nicodemus has too often been ignored.
Hope is already evident in one young woman who plans to make Nicodemus' history her life's work.
"Our generation has to make a contribution. Our ancestors made their lives. This is the only thing left that speaks to the African-American experience in the Western frontier." she said.
Angela Bates said that the fact that Nicodemus was still in existence was a source of pride for not only the descendants of the town, but for all African Americans.
"This is a place people came to experience true freedom. This place worked," she said. "It did not fall as a place for true freedom and as a place where people could create a home."