Building Schools on the Frontier

In the rugged expanse of rural Park County, education was hard-won. Settlers couldn’t rely on established systems—they had to create schools themselves. One-room schoolhouses like Fremont near Jefferson and Buffalo Springs weren’t just places to learn; they were born of necessity and became symbols of resilience and hope. Built by local families, these schools reflected the determination of early settlers who believed deeply in the value of education. As Lodi Eshe remembered, “There is a school up there on the ranch… built by the ranchers around there for their children.”[1]  These buildings were physical proof that, no matter how hard frontier life was, parents were committed to giving their children a better future. 

First school on Coil Ranch at Fairplay in 1958.

Shawnee community center under construction, 1950s.

Though the state set aside land known as “school sections,” it was up to communities to build the schools. As Dave Neukirch explained, “The purpose of the School Sections was they were allotted so that you could put a school on them.”[2] Some were constructed on ranches, others on donated land—but all required teamwork. Families contributed however they could: cutting timber, hauling supplies, or cooking meals for builders. Structures were simple—some schools were built from logs, others from rough wood, with small windows for warmth,  and roofs of shingles or tar paper—made from whatever materials were on hand.[3] Construction was slow, as settlers juggled farm work and household responsibilities. The few settlers who had carpentry skills led the project, while others gathered supplies, hammered nails, or cooked meals for the workers. It was a true community effort, with everyone doing their part. Each finished schoolhouse stood as a testament to cooperation, grit, and shared purpose. 

People sitting on the front deck of the Tarryall School, which is now a community center.

Many early schools were later moved, repurposed, or left behind due to shifting populations or lack of resources like water. Today, remnants of these sites still dot the landscape along Tarryall Road. Even in abandonment, these sites carry a quiet testimony to the community’s effort to bring education to the frontier.[4]