The Lonely End of a Prosser Pioneer
A man claiming to be the first postmaster of Prosser passes away in a rural shack, leaving behind only questions about his past and his family.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
In mid-November, an unknown man identifying himself as Jim Cunnings arrived in the neighborhood and took possession of a shack on the Burk and Croop place. He appeared to be a clean, elderly man between 60 and 65 years of age. G. W. Kennedy, who oversaw the property, allowed him to stay. Cunnings worked odd jobs and survived on assistance from the Kennedys, who provided him with food, clothing, and bedding. On January 23, Edwin Kennedy went to deliver supplies and found Cunnings unconscious. The shack had no fire and the lantern was dry, indicating he had been ill for some time. Despite local efforts to care for him and the arrival of a doctor, Cunnings died at 12:15 a.m. The sheriff was notified and he was taken to Prosser for burial. Nothing was found among his possessions to contact his family, though he had claimed to be the first postmaster of Prosser and mentioned a brother who was a lawyer in San Francisco.
“Nothing could be found in his possessions that would enable the authorities to get into communication with his relatives.”
This story highlights the fragility of life for elderly itinerants in early 20th-century Washington, a demographic that remains deeply vulnerable in today's housing-insecure climate. The reliance on local neighbors for survival services serves as a poignant reminder of the gaps in social infrastructure that persist in rural communities.
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