A California Family: Kanawyer
Mary Ann Kanawyer 1855-1928, my 2-Times Paternal Great Grandmother
Mary Ann Kanawyer
The Story1
In the stillness of early morning, just after the sun began its ascent above the flat horizon east of her family’s farmhouse, 18-year-old Mary Ann Kanawyer lifted the wood-framed window to let in the breeze. The curtain rustled slightly — a small offering of coolness she gladly accepted. It was early in the Fall and she knew it wouldn’t be long before the heat bore down on everything across the vast acreage owned by her family. It was 1873, in Grangeville—a small farm town in Tulare County, California—where Mary Ann and her family had made their home for the past three years. It was a new day delicately weighted with the past—reaching, unannounced, into her future.
At her table, Mary Ann brushed her soft brown curls, which reached the tops of her narrow shoulders. Some mornings those curls refused to behave, but this morning, they fell into place as if they knew they should. She placed the brush carefully into the small red chest her brother John had made for her—brought all the way from Iowa in 1862, when she was just six. She gave her dress one last tug, then opened the door to meet whatever the day would bring.
Those who did not know Mary Ann met a girl who was unassuming and somber. Her family knew her strength didn’t speak. They understood her steadiness. They saw her making her way each day, just as they did. The girl she once was had vanished. Finding her again would take time.
Mary Ann endured an early overland journey west by wagon train in 1862. Then came the hard times in California that took her family to the edge. In Lake County, in 1865, her mother had to tack grain sacks into bedclothes. The entire family — men, women and children knit socks to sell. She knew that any prosperity they experienced then was built on the backs of the burdens they had all felt during their financial struggles. No one in her family took any of that for granted.
Nancy’s death had left a hollow— a place that just couldn’t seem to be filled. Seven years had passed from the day Mary Ann had heard the news about her sister’s passing, and yet, Mary Ann was still learning how to live without her.2 Some mornings the gravity of life gripped her. Over the years, she learned how to push herself up and out of bed and continue living a life that didn’t always make sense without Nancy in it. Some days, the grief lingered. It had become a permanent member of the family. She carried all of it—quiet, unseen just beneath the surface.
Mary Ann’s only other sister Candace was married and living in Mendocino County. Her absence didn’t feel permanent though, like Nancy’s did. Mary Ann had lost her baby brother, Leander, when she was five—but that grief had faded with time. Her brother John lived in Snelling with his wife, Pauline. Not as far as Mendocino County, but still a kind of absence.
When John married, Mary Ann had been ten—Mother had said it was the natural order of things. One day, she’d marry too. Mary Ann had shuddered at the thought.
Mary Ann’s life and that of her father, mother, and two of her three brothers revolved around their farm — a human-made oasis carved strategically into the desert-like region of Central California. In those days, Tulare County was a land of small farmers, men and women striving to wrest a living from the dry heart of the valley. Their hopes rested on a fragile dream: the People’s Ditch Company, a collective born from the belief that water drawn from the nearby rivers could turn dust into abundance. Among the twenty or so men who signed the articles of incorporation in February 1873 was her father, Peter Kanawyer. His journey from Iowa to California would ripple through generations in ways he could never have foreseen.
Along the cracked earth, among the channeled water veined from farm to farm in this town named Grangeville, the course of Mary Ann’s life was about to forge a legacy of its own. Here, among the dreamers and doers, leaders and laborers, two paths were about to converge—though none of them knew it yet. Love and commitment —and a California family were already taking root. Their story— passed from one generation to the next— told in mouths and carried in blood, was already being written.
The Kanawyer Family
Peter and Abigail Kanawyer leave Turkey Grove, Iowa.
Mary Ann’s parents, Peter Kanawyer3 and Abigail [Cole] Kanawyer4 made the decision to leave the community that they had helped to establish in Turkey Grove, Cass County Iowa. Families in Iowa like the Kanawyers were experiencing the stressors of the Civil War, the promise of a free 160 acres of land brought about by the Homestead Act of 1862,5 and the propaganda of California as the land of riches, and agricultural opportunities. Peter, Abigail and their children, John Jerome, Nancy, Phillip, Peter Napoleon, Candace, and Mary Ann became a part of a wagon train that departed from Des Moines, Iowa in 1862 bound for California.
Peter became known as Captain Peter Kanawyer because he led his portion of the wagon train. Leadership seemed to be a part of who he was. His involvement in the early development of places in Iowa such as Janesville, which later became Council Bluff and Turkey Grove in Cass County prepared him for this role as captain of a group of settlers who held the belief that moving away from what they knew to an unknown territory that held the promise of a better life was worth the risk.6
Early Life of Peter Kanawyer
Peter, born in Fairfield County, Ohio to Henry Jeremiah Kenoyer and Catherine Runkle in 1819 was the first born son of his father and the 8th child of his mother. Catherine Runkle was the widow of John Teaford when Peter’s father married her. By the time she had Peter, she was 43 years old, and by the time Peter was 2 years old, his mother and father did not appear to be living together as a married couple. His father, married another woman, named Catherine Osborn, in 1822. The two of them were the parents of Mary Ann, Nancy Jane, Christina and Alexander, Peter’s half-siblings.
Catherine Runkle Teafort Kenoyer
It’s difficult to say with certainty what became of Catherine Runkle Teaford Kenoyer, but the scattered records suggest a compelling, if mysterious, trail. In the 1850 Census, a woman named Catherine Deford—born in 1776, (just as Catherine Runkle was) —appears living in Bloom Township, Fairfield County, Ohio. The surname “Deford” is a variation that has appeared in other records tied to the Teaford name.
Looking further back, the 1840 Census lists a “Catherine Tefart” as the head of household living alone in Bloom County, while the 1830 Census shows a “Catherine Knoyer” also heading a household—another spelling of Kenoyer found in the records. While it’s possible this 1830 listing refers to Catherine (Osborne) Kenoyer, it seems more likely that this was Catherine Runkle Teaford, especially since she was living near other members of the Runkle family. In this Census record it shows her living with a woman between the ages of 20 and 29 and a girl under 5. This was likely one of Catherine Runkle’s older daughters and possibly a granddaughter.
Could it be that, as a widow, Catherine Runkle Teafort married Henry—who was 19 years her junior—out of financial necessity, to stabilize her family’s future after the death of her first husband? And if so, did the significant age difference create tensions in the marriage? Did Peter’s father, Henry eventually find the arrangement unsustainable? Or was it Catherine Runkle who found the relationship too difficult to maintain?
We may never know the exact details, but the records invite us to imagine the resilience and complexity of a woman navigating loss, survival, and the constraints of her time.
Peter Kanawyer’s Siblings
The evidence does not support the idea that Peter had a relationship with his mother, Catherine Runkle. Peter was 11 years old and not living in the same household as his mother. This opens the door to even more questions—What kind of relationship did Peter have with his family? Why didn’t he have a relationship with his mother, Catherine Runkle? And what about his father, Henry Jeremiah Kenoyer? He disappears from the records.
While the full picture about his mother, father and step-mother remains elusive, there’s compelling evidence that Peter remained connected to his younger siblings.
In 1840, his sister Mary Ann married Henry Hershaw in Marion County, Indiana—the same place several of Peter’s children were born around that time.
A decade later, in the 1850 census, his sister Christina is listed as living with Peter and his family in Washington Township, Cass County, Indiana.
Another sister, Nancy Jane, married Peter’s brother-in-law, John Jerome Cole in 1847 and both made the journey to California with Peter.
Even Alexander, the youngest sibling, eventually lived in Council Bluffs, Iowa—a town once known as Janesville and notably co-founded by Peter himself.
When it comes to Peter’s parents, the trail grows cold.
There’s no trace of Catherine Osborn after her marriage to Henry Jeremiah Kenoyer. Whether she died or simply vanished from records, we don’t know. In 1850, Mary Ann Kenoyer— (Peter’s sister) and the daughter of Catherine Osborn and Henry Kenoyer—was living in Peru, Indiana with her husband, her children, and her youngest brother, Alexander, who was just 16 at the time. The absence of both parents suggests something had happened— separation, or perhaps something more complicated.
In her History of Peter Kanawyer, my great-grandaunt Elizabeth [Crowell] Kolb wrote, “In his early manhood he decided to sever connections with his family. For some unexplained reason, he even changed the spelling of his name.”7 Based on the records, Peter appeared to remain close to his siblings. It seems, however, that his parents were no longer part of his life after 1850. The reasons may be lost to time, but the pattern of relationships among the siblings tells a story of its own—one that suggests loyalty, support, and perhaps shared hardship in the absence of parental guidance.
Abigail Cole
Peter Kanawyer’s wife and Mary Ann Kanawyer’s mother’s name was Abigail Cole. Abigail was born on July 25, 1819 in Ohio to James John Cole and Nancy Harden. She was the eldest child. Her presence in historical documents is sparce.
Abigail Cole married Peter Kanawyer on October 4, 1842 in Marion County, Indiana. The man that Abigail married made decisions that were fair and just. He never minced matters, and in typical pioneer fashion was extremely hospitable. His positive nature must have made their journey together worth the effort. Abigail’s strength shows up in the story of their journey.
Arriving in the West
The Kanawyer family, along with the rest of the emigrants in their wagon train—likely part of a larger overland group—arrived safely in Chico, California, in 1862. Remarkably, the journey saw no casualties, a rare feat for the time. Captain Peter Kanawyer was credited with this accomplishment, a testament to his leadership and the resilience of those who made the journey.
Their stay in Chico was brief. The Kanawyers purchased land in Brown’s Valley, Yuba County, California but sold it the following year. The decision to initially purchase land in Yuba County suggests that gold may have been their original motivation for coming to California. They soon relocated to Corvallis, Oregon, but only briefly.
By 1865, the family had returned to California, settling in Lake County along with Peter and Abigail’s daughter, Nancy. Nancy had married James Epperson in March 1863, but tragedy struck when she died just three years later, in November 1866.
The combination of emotional loss and financial hardship likely prompted the Kanawyers to move again—this time to Mendocino County in 1867. Candace Kanawyer, Peter and Abigail’s daughter, married Obadiah R Bennett in Mendocino County in February of 1869. Peter, Abigail and the rest of their children had already made another move to Stanislaus County in 1868.
In 1870, after years of migration and multiple attempts to find stability, the Kanawyers arrived in the dry, open lands of Tulare County, California. Peter and Abigail, both 51, came with their children: John Jerome (28) and his wife Paulina, Phillip (24) and his wife Edith, Peter Napoleon (21), and Mary Ann (15). They arrived not only with belongings, but with a renewed sense of hope.
Their timing was significant. Just weeks earlier, on March 25, 1870, the Tulare Railroad bill had been passed. With the prospect of a railroad line through the region, Tulare County offered promise: a way for farmers to ship goods to distant markets and transform the arid land into opportunity.89
That same year, Peter Kanawyer and James A. Hackett founded the town of Grangeville. With the railroad expected to come through, the settlement brimmed with potential. Shortly after its founding, the Pioneer School District was established. Peter played a leading role in its development. The first school was built in the middle of a wide, empty plain—no roads, few houses, and countless cattle and horses roaming the land. The lumber for the building came from wood originally gathered to build corrals.10 11
Among the first students at Pioneer School was Peter’s daughter, Mary Ann Kanawyer. She graduated soon after, one of the first to do so—marking not only a personal milestone but a symbolic one for a family that had weathered so much to reach this place and moment.
The Arrival
Mary Ann moved down the wooden stairs, the familiar creak beneath her step announcing her — a morning ritual. Pans clattering in the kitchen and the sweet smell of biscuits wafting across her path signaled her. She was late.
Mother would be waiting. She could hear her father and brother already in the kitchen. The men didn’t like to linger. She quickened her step and formed an apology in her head. Then—
A knock. Loud and Sharp. It cut through everything. She froze.
A breath. Two.
The teacher, she remembered. The one Father said would be staying with them. “So early!” she muttered. She reached for the door knob.
Next Week: A California Family: Crowell
Abner Buel Crowell, My 2-Times Great Grandfather.
The answer to “Who is knocking on the door?” and more.
Parts of this post includes a family history narrative that is based on evidence, but where the details were lacking and needed to tell the story, I used my imagination. I used A.I. to create a set of images for illustrating the story. The script I used with ChatGPT included a description of the people or places involved. They are only vaguely accurate and should not be used to represent them other than for the purpose of this story.
Nancy Catherine Kanawyer died on November 22, 1866 in Lower Lake, Lake County California.
Peter Kanawyer, born March 19, 1819 in Ohio to Henry Jeremiah Kenoyer and Catherine Runkle.
Paternal Lineage: Peter Kanawyer 1819, Henry Jeremiah Kenoyer 1792, Johann Ulrich Kenoyer 1752, Leonhardt Kenoyer 1725 born in Germany.
Abigail Cole, born July 25, 1819 in Ohio to James John Cole and Nancy Harden.
Paternal Lineage: Abigail Cole 1819, James John Cole 1786 born in New York.
Wagon trains journeying westward to California in the 1860s faced numerous hardships, many of which are documented through historical records and emigrant diaries. Here is an overview of the primary challenges and associated statistics:
Mortality Rates
Overall Death Rate: Approximately 4% of emigrants perished during the journey westward. This estimate suggests that out of 400,000 pioneers, about 16,000 died en route. Wikipedia+2Wikipedia+2Encyclopedia Britannica+2
Leading Causes of Death
Disease: Illnesses were the predominant cause of death on the trail. Cholera was particularly deadly, especially during epidemic years from 1849 to 1855, accounting for up to 3% of all travelers' deaths. Other common diseases included dysentery, typhoid fever, diphtheria, measles, and scurvy. Oregon Trail Center+7Oregon Encyclopedia+7National Park Service+7Wikipedia
Accidents: Accidental deaths were the second most frequent cause. These included:
Being run over by wagons, often due to falls or clothing entanglement.
Drownings during river crossings.
Accidental shootings.
Injuries from handling animals or equipment. californiatrailcenter.org+13Wikipedia+13Wikipedia+13National Park Service
Other Hazards
Weather: Emigrants contended with extreme weather conditions, including severe storms, intense heat, and early snowfalls, which could lead to hypothermia or frostbite. Encyclopedia Britannica
Terrain: The journey involved traversing challenging landscapes such as deserts, mountains, and rivers, which posed risks of accidents and delays.
Limited Resources: Scarcity of clean water and nutritious food led to dehydration and malnutrition, exacerbating health issues. Wikipedia
Native American Conflicts: While less common than other dangers, there were instances of conflicts resulting in fatalities, especially as emigrant numbers increased and encroached upon indigenous lands. Nebraska Studies
Asked of and answered by ChatGPT May 10, 2025
Founding of Grangeville (1874) and Community Involvement
By the mid-1870s, Peter Kanawyer had become a prominent figure in local agricultural development. He partnered with James A. Hackett to establish the community of Grangeville in 1874, providing land and leadership for the new settlement (en.wikipedia.org). Grangeville, named after the Grange (the Patrons of Husbandry farming movement), is noted as the oldest existing community in today’s Kings County (en.wikipedia.org). Kanawyer and his neighbors organized one of the area’s first Grange chapters to promote agriculture and cooperation. In December 1873, Franklin Grange No. 135 was formed in the Tulare Lake district, and Peter Kanawyer, along with his sons J.J. Kanawyer and P.A. (“Pole”) Kanawyer, are listed among its founding members (archive.org). This indicates he was not only a landowner but also actively involved in the farming community’s social and economic organization.
Kanawyer also joined with fellow settlers to secure water for their lands. He was an incorporator of the People’s Ditch Company in 1873, a cooperative irrigation enterprise. Along with about twenty other local farmers, he helped fund and dig an irrigation canal from the Kings River to the Grangeville area (archive.org). This early canal (the People’s Ditch) was critical for turning the dry prairie into fertile farmland. By 1874–75, the ditch was delivering water near Grangeville and Armona, enabling Kanawyer and others to grow crops beyond dryland grain farming (archive.org).
On March 25, 1870, the Governor of California approved legislation authorizing the construction of a railroad through Tulare County. This initiative was part of a broader effort to expand rail infrastructure in the San Joaquin Valley, aiming to connect agricultural communities and stimulate economic growth.
The Southern Pacific Railroad played a significant role in this expansion. By July 25, 1872, the company had extended its line to Tulare, facilitating the transport of agricultural products and contributing to the region's development. Monterey County Historical Society
Source: Dedication of Grangeville School in 1920
The farmers who were growing crops had them trampled by cattle. The “No Fence Law” was enacted to protect the farmers from the stock that was damaging their livelihoods. They didn’t have to build a fence to protect their crops. If cattle came on their land, they could corral them and make the owners pay a fine. https://pybarra.weebly.com/uploads/6/8/7/0/687099/no_fence_law_1874_1980.pdf