46 Nebraskaland • May 2019
guess there ain't any end to Omaha," wrote 17-year-old
Frisby Rasp in a letter to his parents in 1888. "You can
walk till you are tired out in any direction you choose,
and the houses are as thick as ever …"
Rasp grew up on his parents' farm in southwest Polk
County, Nebraska, the oldest of six children. Now he enrolled
in the Omaha Business College at 16th and Capitol streets.
He paid $40 for tuition, and one of his teachers helped him
fi nd a boarding house. For the fi rst time in his life, he was on
his own in a big city.
"Big city" is relative. That year's Omaha City Directory
claimed a population of 125,000, a huge (and probably
exaggerated) jump over the 30,000 counted in the 1880
census.
But it seemed big enough to Frisby. Even the post offi ce on
the northeast corner of 15th and Capitol was enormous, "a
large three story stone [building]. It covers half a block. They
receive over a carload of mail every day."
He was writing on May 6, one day after he arrived. In his
May 7 letter he reminded his family that "I haven't got any
letters yet," but hoped there would be one waiting for him
at the big post offi ce. He admitted he'd been "feeling pretty
lonely." Two days later he complained, "I haven't heard from
you yet; you must be dead. I ain't a going to mail this until I
"I
Looking east along Farnam Street, Omaha, 1889. History Nebraska RG2341-28
h i ' d O h " 17 ld d) j h 30 000 d i h 1880
A Farm Boy Comes to
