Channahon, situated ten miles southwest of Joliet, on the Illinois Canal, was first settled in the year 1831.  The first house was built by Joseph McCuen and was occupied by him as a store and residence.  In the fall of 1831, it will be remembered, war broke out between the pioneers and the Sac Indians, during which Mr. McCuen was compelled to remove his family to the Wabash Valley.

In 1833, peace being declared, he returned to Channahon, and found his old home among whom was Channahon’s present Supervisor, J.N. Fryer.  In 1834, there was a large influx of population; since which time the prosperity of Channahon has been steadily increasing.  Dairy farming is carried on extensively, and is very successful.

In the village some fine buildings have been erected during last two or three years, and a few of the business houses will compare favorably with any in the county.  Among them we might mention the enterprising firm of C. & E. Fowler, who keeps a full line of Dry Goods, Groceries, etc.  The manufacturing interests of the village embrace flouring mills, carriage factory, wagon factory, etc.

The Public school house of Channahon is something of which any town in the county might well be proud.  It is situated on a beautiful eminence, commanding a fine view of the surrounding country; is a framed three stories, with Mansard roof, and in the highest style of architectural beauty – capable if seating 1000 pupils.  It was designed and built by Francis Layfield, of Joliet.  The entire cost of building and furnishing this institution, was $18,000. 

There is one large grain elevator, owned and run by Joseph Lewis, one of he leading business men of Channahon.

McCowan Chas, farmer …………… south east quarter  east half section 7  po Channahon

McCowan John, farmer  …………… res north west quarter section 8 po Channahon

Interesting story of the McCowan farm house being haunted.

Old Channahon
By
Frank D. Fowler c1900

The other day while sitting by the fire I see a picture there
Of our home town and people too when I was young without a care

I knew them all from sire on down just where they lived in this old town
I knew their creeds and manners too be who they may – gentile or Jew
First, I see “Old Johnnie Conroy” the “Mayo” man short in stature but thick in span
Crossing the turn-pike over the way to a barn he kept to feed mules hay that towed the boats on the water way

I also see his brother Pat well known for miles as a democrat and when ‘lection time came rolling near his stock was big with whiskey and beer to have on hand his friends to cheer and the advice that came from this old Pat was always vote for a democrat

Then across the street was the Fowler store, Father and son there years a score
Charlie the so was the main stay and Caleb his dad with his old gruff way

Tim Gorman too a grocery kept but years before his stock was wet
His boys and I did often pal there were ten of them and just one gal

And Jimmie Smith who ran a shop and pounded iron when it was hot
And Old Dave Drew who helped him out when we talked to him we had to shout

Old Dr. Fitch who cured our ills, quinine and salts or liver pills and aided our Mothers in giving us birth, his hearty laugh was full of mirth

Jesse Watson the market kept and Elizabeth his wife was full of pep, she tended market when he was away and Billy their boy from home did stray,

Then there was Bates and Nancy his wife, where ever he was there was plenty of life,
He loved his old pipe and just a wee nip and round his stove in winter we sit.

And Robert C. Miller I mean best old scout, ever was good natured he, with faults a few, but did no harm – to me or you. I see him then and I see him yet on his door step playing on his old cornet.

Manley Hicks, who harness did make, Aunt Phebe Proud and old Mike Tate,
Jonathan Cross and kids a few, “Old” Johnnie Hart and Susan too

George Hutchins and his “old black bus” for years he carried mail for us
Schoonmaker and Cooley at the north end of town and Uncle Ferril who was a long way around and Seymour the carpenter over the way

“Hoop-pole” Smith who at night “made hay”
David Billsland and wife “Aunt Fan”, neighbors no better in this whole land.

Then came “Uncle Joe” Lewis by name from “Dear old England” he had came who in early day did big business do, stores mill and ware-house too, and J. N. Fryer who lived on the hill, looked after the poor when any were ill. And elected to office ro fill for the town his advice often taken when the law he’d propound.

Old McDonald and grandchildren two, who’s shanty stood in very plain view and the Woodruffs with their long hair, Dan and George were quite a pair.

Barhyte and Davis and Uncle Lisk, old man Darby, who loved to fish,
Walter Althouse of brick house fame and the Conroy girl called “Molly Jane”

Then came “Uncle Morehouse” who lived on the hill and his good Aunt Sarah many years she was ill. And Josie Branish, I mean “the dwarf” you remember was often seen unloading his pockets of eggs at the store that he had hooked from “old Michael” from neath the barn floor.

There were the Sages who lived ‘bove the school, old Jim Venner where we all played pool, our shoe maker then was old Joe Wix, There was Daniel, Tim and Henry Hicks.

Now up the road my mind does totter, Tryon and Knapps long the wide water, then cross the bridge at the old Laws place, McCowans and West I can easy trace, then back through the town, and west past the mill, Bedfords, Whitmore and Wagners and up on the hill to the little old house of “Buffalo Bill”.

Now back again and up town we meet Norton and Mandy Reynolds and jolly Gill Sweet, Geo. Buell and his wife who’s names Sarah Jane, all lived on the street we called “lovers lane”.

Aunt Lucy Adams, who lived off the street, John Drew and his boys who always dressed neat, and Aunt Mary Backus, two sons she did send to fight in the south til the war it did end.

Then came Squire Day who teamed for us, I’ll bet you remember who loud he could cuss. When driving the sorrels Old Prince and Old Fan, the cuss words he used were longer than d__m.

Marion Green on the corner dwelt, Ellen his wife the picture of health. Old Aunty Wringer who carpets did weave, “Old Cap Bedford” a brother to Steve, and Old Tom Bargo who chopped many a log but never could say hog pen it was always pen hog.

Then came Meredith, happy old scout, one would always know when he was about, he always took life in a good natured way and fought in the south that the Union might stay.