Council Grove

It is true its eastern portion, a narrow belt contiguous to Missouri, had a bloody political history, beyond which fact it was merely the portal to the vast mountain region on the west, to be reached only by crossing the desert, supposed to be included within the new state's geographical limits, through which ran the trail to far-off Santa Fe and Chihuahua.

There arrived one morning in the busy little hamlet of Council Grove, Morris County, Kansas, during the month of May, a strange, mysterious person.

He attracted much attention, for he was to the denizens of that remote frontier town as curious a personage as the man in the iron mask, or the awkward Caspar Hauser, whose appearance at the gates of Nuremberg once startled the good people of that staid and quiet town, hoary with the conservatism of centuries.

The stranger who came so unexpectedly to Council Grove in the spring of 1861, evidently a priest, talked but little.

It was an exceedingly difficult task to engage him in conversation, so profoundly did he seem impressed with the idea of some impending danger.

He acted like a startled deer, ever on the alert for an expected enemy, and weeks rolled by before two or three of the town's most reputable citizens could gain his confidence sufficiently to learn from him something of his varied and romantic history.

In a simple sketch, as this is intended to be only, nothing but a mere outline of his checkered life previous to his advent in America can be presented, as it was gathered, very reluctantly on his part, in detached fragments at odd moments in his erratic moods of communicativeness.

It certainly contains enough of pathos, suffering, and tragedy to form the web of a thrilling novel.

It is true its eastern portion, a narrow belt contiguous to Missouri, had a bloody political history, beyond which fact it was merely the portal to the vast mountain region on the west, to be reached only by crossing the desert supposed to be included within the new state's geographical limits, through which ran the trail to far-off Santa Fe and Chihuahua.

There arrived one morning in the busy little hamlet of Council Grove, Morris County, Kansas, during the month of May, a strange, mysterious person.

He attracted much attention, for he was to the denizens of that remote frontier town as curious a personage as the man in the iron mask, or the awkward Caspar Hauser, whose appearance at the gates of Nuremberg once startled the good people of that staid and quiet town, awry with the conservatism of centuries.

The stranger who came so unexpectedly to Council Grove in the spring of 1861, evidently a priest, talked but little.

It was an exceedingly difficult task to engage him in conversation, so profoundly did he seem impressed with the idea of some impending danger.

He acted like a startled deer, ever on the alert for an expected enemy, and weeks rolled by before two or three of the town's most reputable citizens could gain his confidence sufficiently to learn from him something of his varied and romantic history.

In a simple sketch, as this is intended to be only, nothing but a mere outline of his checkered life previous to his advent in America can be presented, as it was gathered, very reluctantly on his part, in detached fragments at odd moments in his erratic moods of communicativeness.

It certainly contains enough of pathos, suffering, and tragedy to form the web of a thrilling novel.

Cole's going to take the one chair, Toby takes the two, and they'll continue on the K-State coverage, plus a little Kansas City Chiefs talk and a Manhattan Wrecker High School football preview.

Take a look at Council Grove today, and of course, you know, K-State conversation here in hour number one of the show.

Phone line, text line is 785-537-1350.

Yeah, how terrible is it in those pay parking? Because I remember...

Yes.

All right.

I get my Council Grove updates from my grandma when she'll just randomly start talking about, oh, you know, Council Grove.

That's awesome.

It is true its eastern portion, a narrow belt contiguous to Missouri, had a bloody political history, beyond which fact it was merely the portal to the vast mountain region on the west, to be reached only by crossing the desert, supposed to be included within the new state's geographical limits, through which ran the trail to far-off Santa Fe and Chihuahua.

There arrived one morning in the busy little hamlet of Council Grove, Morris County, Kansas, during the month of May, a strange, mysterious person.

He attracted much attention, for he was to the denizens of that remote frontier town as curious a personage as the man in the iron mask, or the awkward Caspar Hauser, whose appearance at the gates of Nuremberg once startled the good people of that staid and quiet town, awry with the conservatism of centuries.

The stranger who came so unexpectedly to Council Grove in the spring of 1861, evidently a priest, talked but little.

It was an exceedingly difficult task to engage him in conversation, so profoundly did he seem impressed with the idea of some impending danger.

He acted like a startled deer, ever on the alert for an expected enemy, and weeks rolled by before two or three of the town's most reputable citizens could gain his confidence sufficiently to learn from him something of his varied and romantic history.

In a simple sketch, as this is intended to be only, nothing but a mere outline of his checkered life previous to his advent in America can be presented, as it was gathered, very reluctantly on his part, in detached fragments at odd moments in his erratic moods of communicativeness.

It certainly contains enough of pathos, suffering and tragedy to form the web of a thrilling novel.

It is true its eastern portion, a narrow belt contiguous to Missouri, had a bloody political history, beyond which fact it was merely the portal to the vast mountain region on the west, to be reached only by crossing the desert supposed to be included within the new state's geographical limits, through which ran the trail to far-off Santa Fe and Chihuahua.

There arrived one morning in the busy little hamlet of Council Grove, Morris County, Kansas, during the month of May, a strange, mysterious person.

He attracted much attention, for he was to the denizens of that remote frontier town as curious a personage as the man in the iron mask, or the awkward Caspar Hauser, whose appearance at the gates of Nuremberg once startled the good people of that staid and quiet town, hoary with the conservatism of centuries.

The stranger who came so unexpectedly to Council Grove in the spring of 1861, evidently a priest, talked but little.

It was an exceedingly difficult task to engage him in conversation, so profoundly did he seem impressed with the idea of some impending danger.

He acted like a startled deer, ever on the alert for an expected enemy, and weeks rolled by before two or three of the town's most reputable citizens could gain his confidence sufficiently to learn from him something of his varied and romantic history.

In a simple sketch, as this is intended to be only, nothing but a mere outline of his checkered life previous to his advent in America can be presented, as it was gathered, very reluctantly on his part, in detached fragments at odd moments in his erratic moods of communicativeness.

It certainly contains enough of pathos, suffering, and tragedy to form the web of a thrilling novel.

Uh, it's because these dates don't match up with the rest of the story.

So to fast-forward a little bit, and we'll see it in a later clip, but they actually, Jack actually names the town that this ancestor was in, and he called it Council Grove, which is Ca- uh, a town in Kansas.

It's a real town.

So looking into the genealogy of Crowleys in Council Grove, we're able to find quite a bit actually, and there are Crowleys there.

So, you know, I'm not doubting that this guy Jack has ancestry in this area that he's related to, but, [laughs] like I said, the dates don't match up.

He says, "My grandfather built the-

So in the comment, "My dad had a great-grandfather who founded a town in Kansas in 1840." He's already contradicted his own story, but we've got 1840 and some ancestor, great-great or great.

We'll see.