By KAREN MADORIN
We moved to Ellis in 1977, one year after the National Park Service listed Nicodemus, Kansas, as a National Historic Landmark.
At the time, I’d never heard of it or its history as “the oldest remaining Black settlement West of the Mississippi. However, Ernestine’s Barbecue and her ties to Nicodemus soon teased our taste buds into wanting to know more.
Approximately 15 years later, I devoted hours pouring through old Ellis Headlight newspapers connecting dots revealing the history of Ellis schools to use in my master’s degree research.
During hours reading faded microfiche, I found revealing tidbits regarding Ellis’s connection to Nicodemus.
Articles detailed relatives of Nicodemus settlers who chose to live in Ellis, an Ellis merchant buying and selling Nicodemus farmers’ broom corn, and Nicodemus settlers traveling the trail to bring sick and injured residents to the railroad doctor in Ellis.
Though fascinating, I forced myself to focus on school research deadlines and didn’t save those files.
With those accounts piquing my interest, I met Angela Bates, Nicodemus historical dot connector, selling her "Nicodemus Annie" books in a shop just north of Wiesner’s old grocery store.
We shared introductions and our enthusiasm for area history. Holy cow, she was a walking repository of Nicodemus genealogy and history, meaning she could connect pertinent facts before I could blink. Her internal data base produced thick lines regarding those Kentucky immigrants’ stories. Being related by blood or marriage to the group made her privy to an entire cultural history.
Our conversation linked some personal dots.
We’d grown up in neighboring communities in Southern California and shared Rose Bowl Parade and schoolyard memories. I’d lived in Orange County so our family occasionally visited Newport Beach hoping to spy John Wayne on his boat.
She had a better story. Her mom Charlesetta cooked for John Wayne’s friend who invited The Duke to eat her fried chicken. John loved it! Telling Dad I knew someone who fried chicken for his favorite movie star was a lifetime highlight.
Angela and I fondly reminisced about visiting grandparents and other relatives in Kansas every summer. We both loved their stories of days gone by.
Over time, Angela expanded her comprehensive data bank of Nicodemus history, morphing dots to write a script recounting her ancestors Emma and Charles Williams' arrival in Graham County.
Dreaming of growing words into a documentary, she obtained financial support that made this dream a reality.
In the meantime, she identified actual Nicodemus Trail sites, walking and wagon, between Ellis and Nicodemus.
This information connected Nicodemus settlers with the Walz family who own land the Trail crosses. The Walz farm housed an old Mendota Post Office site that included a water well. Walz ancestors passed on stories of Nicodemus residents stopping for water traveling to and from Ellis.
Prior to filming, the Walz family invited the crew and actors to use their land where the Trail crossed.
Because Angela invited me to take still photos of production, I saw first-hand the emotional power of place for actual Nicodemus descendants re-enacting their ancestors’ arrival in this actual promised land.
We had no seismograph measuring vibrations, but emotion rocked the prairie that hot September day. Every participant, wagon drivers, film crew, actors, director, support staff saw and felt ancestral hope reverberating from the ground up through present Nicodemus descendants.
Afterwards, I heard many share they will pass on their experience.
This reunion reconnected powerful emotions as writer, director, cast, crew, and support staff recollected stories over a meal provided by Nicodemus Black Farmers before watching the documentary at Palco’s McKenna Theater. Western Kansas is rich with such history and these settlers’ experiences validate the importance of following dreams and connecting historical dots.
Karen Madorin is a retired teacher, writer, photographer, outdoors lover, and sixth-generation Kansan.