Outhouses of the American West
The American West, a land of sprawling landscapes and rugged pioneers, evokes images of cowboys, saloons, and dusty trails. However, a less glamorous, yet equally essential, fixture of this era was the humble outhouse. These unassuming structures, often overlooked in historical accounts, served as a vital part of daily life for settlers, miners, and ranchers across the vast expanse of the West. Though rapidly disappearing from the modern landscape, the outhouse remains an enduring symbol of ingenuity, practicality, and the challenges faced by those who tamed the frontier.
The outhouse, in its simplest form, was a small, enclosed structure providing a private space for sanitation. Far removed from the conveniences of modern plumbing, these "necessaries," as they were often called, were a common sight across the American West. Also known as privies, toilets, loos, thrones, and crappers, they were a testament to the resourcefulness of early settlers who adapted to the harsh conditions and limited resources of the region. This article explores the history, construction, and cultural significance of outhouses of the American West, delving into the facts, folklore, and humor surrounding these iconic structures.
Construction and Design:
The design of an outhouse was typically straightforward, reflecting the limited availability of materials and the need for practicality. Most outhouses of the American West were small, measuring approximately 3 to 4 feet square and 7 feet high. The walls were usually constructed of wood, though other materials such as sod or adobe were sometimes used, depending on the local environment. A simple door provided privacy, often secured with a latch or wooden bar.
Roofs were typically slanted to allow for rainwater runoff, and windows were rare, as privacy and security were paramount. However, many outhouses featured a small crescent moon or star cutout on the door. While popular lore suggests that the crescent moon symbolized women’s facilities and the star denoted men’s, historical evidence supporting this claim is scant. A more likely explanation is that these cutouts served as a source of ventilation and natural light.
Inside the outhouse, the primary feature was the seat, typically a wooden plank with one or more holes cut into it. Some outhouses featured multiple holes of varying sizes to accommodate adults and children. In Montana, there was once a hotel that had an outhouse with 12 seats. Rather, most contained two holes of different sizes – one for adults and one for children. Don’t think those kids wanted to sit on the bigger hole and risk the consequences. However, that being said, some large families would have multiple holes for use at the same time. In wealthier households, the seat might be more elaborately constructed, perhaps even featuring a hinged lid.
Location and Practical Considerations:
The location of the outhouse was carefully considered, balancing convenience with concerns about hygiene and odor control. Most were situated between 50 and 150 feet from the main house, far enough to minimize unpleasant smells but close enough for easy access, especially during inclement weather. Prevailing winds were also taken into account, with the outhouse typically positioned downwind from the house to prevent odors from wafting into living areas.
Maintaining an outhouse was an ongoing task. Regular cleaning was essential to prevent the buildup of odors and the spread of disease. Lime or ashes were often sprinkled into the pit to help neutralize odors and control insects. When the pit became full, it would either be emptied and the contents buried, or the entire structure would be moved to a new location.
Toilet paper, as we know it today, was a luxury that few rural families could afford. Instead, people relied on whatever materials were readily available, such as newspaper, pages from old catalogs, corncobs, or even smooth stones. These makeshift substitutes highlight the resourcefulness and adaptability of those living in the American West.
Outhouses of the American West: More Than Just a Privy
Beyond their practical function, outhouses held a unique place in the social and cultural fabric of the American West. They were often the subject of jokes, stories, and even art. Outhouse races became a popular form of entertainment in some communities, with teams competing to push decorated outhouses across a finish line.
The outhouses of the American West also served as a canvas for personal expression. Many were adorned with graffiti, ranging from simple initials and dates to elaborate drawings and political slogans. These markings offer a glimpse into the thoughts, feelings, and experiences of those who used the outhouse.
In some cases, outhouses even played a role in local folklore. Stories abound of outhouses being blown over by strong winds, collapsing under the weight of snow, or being inhabited by snakes or other critters. These tales, often humorous and exaggerated, reflect the challenges and uncertainties of life on the frontier.
The Legacy of the Outhouse:
As indoor plumbing became more widespread in the 20th century, the outhouse gradually faded from the landscape. Today, few original outhouses remain, serving as relics of a bygone era. However, their legacy lives on in the stories, jokes, and memories of those who grew up using them.
The outhouses of the American West serve as a reminder of the ingenuity, resilience, and resourcefulness of the pioneers who settled the region. They represent a time when people had to rely on their own skills and ingenuity to meet their basic needs. While modern conveniences have largely replaced the outhouse, its place in the history and folklore of the American West remains secure.
Outhouse Humor and Folklore:
The outhouse, despite its humble purpose, has long been a source of humor and folklore. Its very nature lends itself to jokes and anecdotes, often centered on the discomfort, inconvenience, or outright absurdity of using such a primitive facility. The jokes provided earlier are just a few examples of the many humorous stories that have circulated about outhouses over the years.
Beyond jokes, the outhouse has also inspired a rich vein of folklore. Tales of outhouses being blown over by strong winds, collapsing under the weight of snow, or being invaded by unwelcome creatures are common. These stories, often embellished and passed down through generations, reflect the challenges and uncertainties of life in the American West.
Two-Story Outhouses: How in the heck did that work? Well, the upstairs facilities were situated a little further back so that the “materials” released from the second floor would fall behind the wall of the first floor. There are a few of these old relics still around. The one below was built next to a large store in Gays, Illinois. The store has long since been torn down, but thanks to those fine citizens of Gays, the “skys-crapper” was preserved.
Outhouses of the American West and their crescent moon cutouts serve as a reminder of the past. The simple, yet vital, structure evokes a sense of nostalgia for a simpler time, while also highlighting the ingenuity and resourcefulness of early settlers. As we continue to develop and modernize, it is important to remember the lessons of the past and to appreciate the challenges and triumphs of those who came before us. The outhouse, in its own unassuming way, is a testament to the spirit of the American West.
Thomas Crapper: It is a myth that Thomas Crapper invented the toilet. Though the man held several patents for plumbing related products, he did not invent the water closet.
The Outhouse Poem:
The service station trade was slow
The owner sat around,
With sharpened knife and cedar stick
Piled shavings on the ground.
No modern facilities had they,
The log across the rill
Led to a shack, marked His and Hers
That sat against the hill.
“Where is the ladies restroom, sir?”
The owner leaning back,
Said not a word but whittled on,
And nodded toward the shack.
With quickened step she entered there
But only stayed a minute,
Until she screamed, just like a snake
Or spider might be in it.
With startled look and beet red face
She bounded through the door,
And headed quickly for the car
Just like three gals before.
She missed the foot log – jumped the stream
The owner gave a shout,
As her silk stockings, down at her knees
Caught on a sassafras sprout.
She tripped and fell – got up, and then
In obvious disgust,
Ran to the car, stepped on the gas,
And faded in the dust.
Of course we all desired to know
What made the gals all do
The things they did, and then we found
The whittling owner knew.
A speaking system he’d devised
To make the thing complete,
He tied a speaker on the wall
Beneath the toilet seat.
He’d wait until the gals got set
And then the devilish tike,
Would stop his whittling long enough,
To speak into the mike.
And as she sat, a voice below
Struck terror, fright and fear,
“Will you please use the other hole,
We’re painting under here!”