Once Upon a Heights

Today marks the inaugural Second Wednesday posting of #OnceUponAHeights, our new monthly feature that brings pieces of Windsor Heights history back into the spotlight.

For our very first story, we are going all the way back to 1921. Windsor Heights would not officially become a city until 1941, but as this newspaper article shows, our community had already begun making news and building its identity long before cityhood. 

In 1921, the area was simply known as the Windsor community. What had been described as a farm only five years earlier was suddenly a flourishing settlement with neighbors creating a world of their own. There was no mayor, no council, and no city services, yet residents were already working together to shape the place they called home.

At the center of daily life stood the tall brick Windsor School, a gathering point for education, events, and community spirit. Fundraisers, chicken suppers, home-grown improvements, and good old-fashioned cooperation kept the community thriving. Local women like Mrs. Barcklow and Mrs. Stewart led the charge in organizing improvements and rallying neighbors to build something lasting.

This article reminds us that Windsor Heights did not simply appear as a city. It grew from a spirit of connection, volunteerism, and pride that has carried through the decades.

We are excited to share more of these stories each month, celebrating the roots of the place we all call home. Stay tuned for next month’s chapter of Once Upon a Heights.

Full article text:

Windsor, a Little World All to Itself

Flourishing Community Is Growing Up on Des Moines' Very Doorstep

A Farm five years ago, a flourishing settlement today. There you have in a nutshell the history of Windsor community, which centers about Windsor school, a mile west of Waveland Park. It is a world all to itself, paying tribute neither to Des Moines, nor Valley Junction nor Clive. It doesn't have a mayor or a council or a dog catcher. But it does have the fundamental advantages of community life - a united citizenry, bent upon making its surroundings the pleasantest possible. 

It's almost like visiting a different county to get to Windsor. You go as far on the car as the University car line goes, then you walk about a mile through uninhabited countryside until you reach Windsor school, a tall, slim pile of brick. It was on this site that the old Windsor homestead stood for many years. Now that all the children are married and gone, Mr. and Mrs. H. L. Windsor, the father and mother, have given the five acres for a school, upon which has been erected an up-to-date building. 

Strong For the Teacher.

There is only one teacher, Miss Mabel Rider, who takes the long ride and the long walk every morning and every evening. It's part of the Windsor community that her efforts are appreciated, and that every resident is a booster for Miss Rider.

You have to get up on the school house hill to see the homes, which are scattered over the surrounding hills, or tucked snugly in the dales. They are of all kinds - temporary shacks to large, handsome brick homes. Although they are sprinkled over a large tract of ground, all are on the former Windsor farm. 

It's hard to tell how many residents there really are until they all assemble at the schoolhouse for a social evening. Then they often surprise themselves by turning out 250 strong. They had such a party a week ago, with a bazar, a chicken supper and orchestra music. Seventy-five dollars were realized from the proceeds of the sale and this money will go toward buying nice things for the school. 

To understand how Windsor community sprang up so rapidly and attained such solidarity of purpose, it is necessary to talk to some of the women. It is they who think of the improvements. The men carry them out. If there aren't men at hand, then the women carry them out themselves. 

Superintendent of Improvements.

Mrs. H. Barcklow, for instance, lived on a road that ran full of deep, rich Iowa mud seven months of the year. She wanted it made into a good road. No one else volunteering to undertake the job, Mrs. Barcklow tackled it herself. She secured a man for the grading but took a hand for awhile to be sure it was done right. In the meantime, her friend, Mrs. George B. Stewart, had headed a man with a steam road roller down her way. Mrs. Barcklow stopped him, enlisted his services, and by the next day had a road that was a credit to the community. They call Mrs. Barcklow the "superintendent of public improvements."

Lots in the community are being snapped up rapidly. Already a number of prominent Des Moines men have made their homes there and others are buying, intending to build in the spring. 

They like the idea of a rural surroundings just a mile from the city, yet with no city taxes to pay and no city ordinances to observe. But most of all they like the Windsor community spirit of good fellowship and getting things done.