The story of Kansas' trailblazing women starts long ago, years before the start of the Civil War."This bleeding Kansas era really defined the state and Missouri, as well," said Sarah Bell, historian at the Watkins Museum of History. "I mean, literally, the state shed blood in order to have it be a free state.Kansas was founded on principles of freedom. It came with a price. Kansas abolitionists fought pro-slavery groups in violent and often bloody battles. "What does it mean to be free was a question that continued to be brought up time and time again, and women really use that to their benefit when they were fighting for their own equal rights," Bell said.Many abolitionists believed in equal rights for all, including enslaved people and women. The violent movement to keep slavery out of Kansas helped spark the start of the Civil War.One of the most prominent figures of the Bleeding Kansas movement was John Brown. But not even this militant abolitionist knew how his fight would lay the groundwork for another fight: to grant voting rights to women."Early on, from the very beginning of Kansas being a state, you have women, like Clarina Nichols, who came out here for the purpose of fighting for abolition, but at the same time, she was also fighting for women's rights," Bell said.Strong women were drawn to the Kansas prairie. Nichols arrived from Vermont in 1854. The women's rights advocate was an editor of an anti-slavery newspaper and started speaking publicly about equality for women. Within five years, she had gathered enough signatures to enter the male dominated political forum -- the Wyandotte Constitutional Convention."So I love to highlight Clarina Nichols," Bell said.At the Watkins History Museum in Lawrence, Bell explained how one woman helped secure the first voting rights for all Kansas women. It unfolded at the state's constitutional convention. "She sat in her chair. She was supposedly knitted during that time," Bell said. "She was the woman who sat in the Wyandotte Constitutional Convention knitting, doing her knitting, and not able to actually address the convention, but she was there and her presence and her negotiations with the male delegates after the formal convention during the day, was able to grant women the right to vote in school elections."Nichols was quietly instrumental in advancing women's rights in the state. Two years after attending the convention, in 1861, Kansas became the first state to grant women the right to vote in school district elections. The ordinary women's movement dates from 1848, when a convention to consider the rights to vote for women was held in Seneca Falls, New York. "The committee, drafting the list of women's wrongs found her grievances against the government of men to be the same number that American men had had against King George," Mrs. Carrie Chapman Catt said.Political pioneers like Catt set their sights on Kansas. There was a groundswell of support in the town of Leavenworth from its mayor and newspaper publisher, Daniel Anthony. His sister, Susan B. Anthony, was already one of the movement's most prominent figures. She wasn't alone. Other trailblazers at work in Kansas included Lucy Stone and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. Suffragists' hopes now rested with Kansas; patriots fighting for equality."Historically, Kansans themselves were calling themselves progressive during the 19th century," Bell said. "They thought it was going to be the first state to give women full suffrage voting rights, they so believed this."But even in a free state, like Kansas, not even the fight for equality was equal."Pictured here is Mary Dillard, who was one of the more prominent suffragists in the Lawrence movement," Bell said.Dillard, or Mamie, was the only Black student in her graduating class at Lawrence High School. She joined the suffrage movement alongside other Black women, such as Carrie Langston. Langston's son and future poet, Langston Hughes, was Dillard's student at Lawrence's Pickney School. But as these women demanded racial and gender equality, the women's suffrage movement was about to betray them."Unfortunately at this time, African-American women weren't accepted into bigger organizations led by Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, white women who were leading those," Bell said.Black men were also fighting for the vote. Susan B. Anthony decried the effort, saying it would cause "antagonism everywhere between educated, refined women and the lower orders of men."Her racist views shattered alliances with abolitionists who supported women's rights, like Frederick Douglass. Two years after the Civil War, Kansas became the first state to officially consider a women's suffrage referendum and voting rights for Black men. White male voters rejected both. Three years later, Black men received the right to vote with the 15th Amendment.White women still had a long battle ahead and began appealing to white supremacist groups for their own voting rights.1869 - Wyoming grants women suffrage in general electionsSoon, other states west of the Mississippi began considering their own women's rights laws. By the 1880s, 12,000 women nationwide were card-carrying suffragists. "There's this great image. Right after 1912, Kansas actually did pass the right to vote for all women, and you see this woman walking across the country and all these states in her wake, all these western states that passed the right to vote and going east is this wave," Bell said.From the wave of progress, the tide was slowly turning in America thanks to a powerful alliance with another activist group -- the Women's Christian Temperance Union. "The most shocking thing for me today is the fact the women are standing beside the men at the bars, drinking. Oh, it's terrible," said a woman with the WCTU.The group led by Frances Willard championed one cause: Prohibition, a nationwide ban on alcohol."Time was when mothers and children stayed outside the saloon and wept. And now they can go inside and drag father out. The trouble is, they often, the mothers and children, have to be dragged out themselves," said another member of the WCTU.The union had more than 150,000 members, more than 10 times the number of registered suffragists. But women in both groups demanded the same thing: to be heard."Drusilla Wilson. I just love that picture of her she looks so stern," Bell said.The Prohibition era is marked by strong images of female patriots, such as hatchet- wielding Kansan, Carrie Nation, who used her weapon to demolish bars across the state. Nation was jailed several times and sold souvenir hatchets to help pay her fines. She wasn't the only one."Really, just think about the understandings of social expectations at the time of women. So women really were not supposed to be in politics, and they were not supposed to be out in, like, advocating for this in public. And if you did this, you were considered pretty radical and radical in the sense that you were stepping so far outside these boundaries that that you were not womanly enough, not feminine enough," Bell said.As suffragists and Prohibition supporters gained power, activists aligned with the Republican majority to push their cause. It worked."They were really politically savvy," Bell said.Progressive Kansas led the way for the nation once again becoming the first state to ban alcohol in 1881. Temperance union chapters soon sprung up across the state supporting the cause. 1887 – Municipal SuffrageSome of the fiercest opponents of women's rights were anti-suffrage groups led by other women. One woman even taking pen to paper writing to Kansas Gov. John Martin, "The suffragists have the persistency of fanatics and cranks."Her plea was to keep voting rights away from women. But when Kansas lawmakers passed a bill giving women the right to vote in city elections in 1887, Martin signed it into law. Women would have their say in the upcoming elections, which were just weeks away. At that same time, deep in the Kansas prairie, in the tiny town of Argonia with its 416 inhabitants, a young mother of four was at home, doing the wash, unaware she about to make history. "At the time, I mean, she's pretty young when this happens right?" Chronicle's Haley Harrison asked."Yeah, late 20s," Bell said.Not even she could have predicted what was about to happen, and neither could the men who were behind the whole scheme.Call them feminists."I believe the influence of woman will save the country before every other power." - Lucy Stone.Suffragists."The best protection a woman can have... is courage." - Elizabeth Cady StantonPatriots."We women demand an equal voice; we shall accept nothing less." - Carrie Chapman CattTrailblazers.Female political pioneers fighting for equality on the prairie, whether they had a choice or not.An hour southwest of Wichita, Kansas, is a tiny town called Argonia. There, buried deep in the Kansas prairie, is the story of a trailblazing woman -- Susanna Madora Salter. "I met with some people and they had never heard of Susanna Salter, and this is 25 years, 30 years back," said Carol Pearce, a Salter historian.Pearce has spent her life preserving the Salter's story. In her collection of articles, stories and newspaper clippings emerges the unlikely story. "At the time, I mean she's pretty young when this happens right?" Haley Harrison asked. "Yeah, late 20s. I think she had two or three kids at that point. I mean, she was still doing all the things in her household," Bell said.Salter was a supporter of the Prohibition movement but had no political aspirations.Yet thanks to a new Kansas law signed in 1887, Salter and women across Kansas were about to vote for the very first time. But some of the men in town had other ideas.April 4, 1887On election morning, Salter was home, tending to the wash when she received a life-altering surprise: Her name was on the ballot for mayor."She was the only one of the women in the WCTU group who actually lived in town, so she was the only one eligible," Bell said.It was the work of several Argonia men, who as legend has it, enjoyed their booze and billiards and weren't about to let the Temperance Union dry up their town. Secretly substituting a woman's name at the top of the ticket, the Prohibition Party would suffer an embarrassing loss or so they thought. "It's a really fascinating story because, honestly, it was an accident that she was even elected in the first place," Bell said.Out of the town's population of 416, 98 voted in Argonia that day -- 78 men and 20 women."Roughly, she wins by astounding numbers," Bell said.Salter was elected by two-thirds majority. Whether she wanted it or not, the 27-year-old mother was now the first woman mayor in the United States.Word spread fast."Female mayors are no good," the city's ex-marshal was quoted as saying. "Well, Mrs. Salter has just killed Argonia."One of the men behind the failed election plot was Argonia's city marshal. He moved out of town and soon started sharing his story about how it all happened."We got full of whiskey and enthusiasm, and the undertaker got up in the middle of the meeting and nominated Mrs. Susanna Madora Salter," according to the ex-marshal's account."I think it's hilarious that it really was supposed to be a joke and the joke was on them because she ended up winning," Bell said.There was little fanfare in that historic moment. Salter found out she had won through a letter from the city clerk."You were duly elected to the office of mayor of said city. You will take this notice thereof and groom yourself accordingly," the letter said.The young wife and mother suddenly had much more than a household to manage. "Her husband was a little unsure about being the husband of a female mayor, but he did seem to come around to it," Bell said.Governing was a family matter for Salter. Her father was the town's first mayor. Her father-in-law was a former Kansas lieutenant governor. Diplomacy was in her DNA, which was proven at the first meeting between the new mayor and her all male council."'Gentlemen, the eyes of Kansas and the United States are watching and waiting to see how I'll run things. I want you to know it's your responsibility, not mine. But I'll help you to the best of my ability,'" Pearce read from Salter's account.Salter called it her "sugar policy.""The first thing I tried to make them do was think that they were the very finest men on earth. After that, I had not a slight bit of trouble with them," Pearce read from Salter's account."She actually worked really well with the men that were serving with her on the council," Bell said.Her term was one year. During that time, the town was struck by a tornado, Argonia fixed its sidewalks, and there was a brush with some teenage vandals. And the billiards hall? She chased it out of Argonia. But the election was the most noteworthy event in town."There wasn't anything too radical that she did during her tenure, but it does really, it's amazing to see the national press that was picked up by this first female mayor in the country. And women in Kansas, other suffrage leaders were really supportive of her in any way that they could," Bell said. "Susan B. Anthony came out and visited her and was just amazed at this."The head of the Women's Christian Temperance Union, the national Prohibition group also reached out."I wish you would write me (on your official heading) a note that I can read to audiences, showing the good of woman's ballot as a temperance weapon and the advantage of women in office. With best wishes for the best mayor, I am yours sincerely, Frances E. Willard."Kansas was securing itself as the land of patriots, pioneers and trailblazers. The same election that ushered Salter in as Argonia's mayor also saw five women elected to the City Council in Syracuse, Kansas. One year later, Oskaloosa, Kansas elected a female mayor and an all-woman council. "She really set the stage, I think, for a good example of what women could do when they had that political power and actually had the right to vote," Bell said.It would still take more than 30 years before women nationwide were granted the right to vote with the passage of the 19th Amendment in 1920. Even though Kansas women were at the forefront of change, it would be more than 90 years before Kansas sent a woman to Washington, D.C.The last century has been one of evolution and revolution for American women. Kansans led the way in elected offices on the Kansas prairie to Capitol Hill. Brave women, talented, in the skies and beyond. Yet for all their achievements, some things never change, especially for women in politics. "There are so many of the same themes and issues that will show up today, were showing up in the 19th century," Bell said. "You still see this kind of similar resistance to, you know, 'Can women do this? And what happens if they're not in the home? And who's going to take care of it?'"When voters elected 27-year-old housewife Susanna Salter as mayor of Argonia, Kansas in 1887, her election made headlines. But the focus was not on her political stance or leadership abilities."Newspapers would describe their dress, their voice and a lot of just trying to pick them apart in terms of 'You're not falling into this appropriate sphere of women,'" Bell said.While in office, a Boston Globe reporter turned up to document this new breed of mayor. "The mayor continues to be regarded as something of a curiosity by even her townspeople," the reporter wrote in an Aug. 2, 1887 article. "Rather the reverse of plump, weighing about 128 pounds, and is of a quick, active temperament. Her eyes are dark gray and her hair, which she wears parted in the center, and 'crimped,' is of a blonde shade. She dresses neatly but not expensively, making all her own clothes and those of her children, whom she has four." The Boston Globe article was one of many written about the woman who was charting new territory as the nation's first female mayor."We have had over a century of problematic coverage of women in politics, and it's not something that is going to immediately go away," said Teri Finneman, a University of Kansas professor and journalism historian.In the book "Press Portrayals of Women Politicians," Finneman documents the media coverage of four prominent women, including the first woman to run for president, Victoria Woodhull."They made fun of her a lot. They referred to her as Mrs. Satan," Finneman said.Montana's Jeanette Rankin was the first woman to hold federal office in the U.S. House. "There were entire articles just based on the color of her hair and what she looked like," Finneman said.Maine's Margaret Chase Smith, the first woman to serve in both chambers of Congress, was often ignored by the press."If you're an older woman, well, you're dried up. You're too old. Whereas, men are distinguished, right?" Finneman said.And the media circus that surrounded vice presidential candidate and Alaska's first female governor, Sarah Palin. "You do see a lot of sensationalism, a lot of digging for very minute details, great emphasis on their personal lives," Finneman said. "We don't notice these things casually on a day-to-day basis, but when you add them up over time, I looked at 1,300 newspaper articles, you start to see how serious of a problem this actually is."When Nancy Landon Kassebaum arrived in Washington in 1978, she was elected into a man's world. She was the first woman senator from Kansas and the only female in a chamber of 99 men.Kassebaum was the first woman elected to the U.S. Senate in her own right. But there had been others before her. Dixie Bibb Graves served five months in the U.S. House of Representatives after being appointed by her husband, the governor of Alabama, to fill a vacancy.So it was little surprise that the new junior senator from Kansas would serve nearly two years as the lone female voice in the chamber. In those early days, it was her name that got attention. Landon was one of the most notable names in Kansas. Kassebaum's father, Kansas Gov. Alf Landon, suffered one of the worst presidential defeats in 1936 challenging FDR. But at home in Kansas, he was beloved. "I had some of my opponents say. 'Well, you're running on your dad's coattails. And I finally said, 'Well, what better coattails to run on?" Kassebaum said. "He didn't want me to run. Mother did, who didn't care that much about politics. But dad, I think he would never admit it, I think he thought I'd lose, and maybe he thought that would reflect on him more than on me."Kassebaum was one of three Landon children. Like Susanna Salter before her, politics was in her blood."When I was growing up, we did, and of course, it was usually dad who did the talking; it was what was going on in the daily news worldwide, local news, usually politics, too, of course," Kassebaum said.Her father never got to serve in the nation's capital, but Kassebaum did, thanks in part to the trailblazing women who paved the way. "I look back and think how much I admire the true grit of those women, who were willing to stand up for what they believed was important," Kassebaum said.While the road may have been paved, there was no map for one of the nation's first female senators.Kassebaum's dedication to compromise on Capitol Hill earned her the moniker "Nice Little Nancy."More than 15 years into her Senate tenure, not much had changed about the way the media told her story."Kassebaum, 62, is a 5-foot-2-inch wren of a woman whose calm, disarming demeanor stays unruffled amidst the overpowering swirl of activity in the Senate office building," The University Daily Kansan wrote on Nov. 16, 1994."I was frequently asked, 'Do you think you're being ignored in the Senate by some your fellow senators? Are they taking you for granted?' And I said, and it's true, 'If you worry about that, you've lost the ability to really focus on the issues at hand,'" Kassebaum said.Early in her career, Kassebaum proved she could not be defined by labels. She broke rank with the Republican party by supporting the Equal Rights Amendment, granting rights for all Americans regardless of sex. But she refused to support a deadline extension to ratify it. The decision cost Kassebaum the support of the Kansas Women's Political Caucus. Kassebaum won't call herself a feminist and doesn't want to be remembered that way. She said that all issues are women's issues. "I care just as much about foreign policy as I did about the farm bill, or about women's issues," Kassebaum said.In her 19 years on Capitol Hill, she said she is most proud of her work to place sanctions on South Africa for apartheid, even though it meant bucking her party's President Ronald Reagan."Nice Little Nancy" as she had been called persuaded 30 fellow Republicans to vote to override his veto. "I think, one, that I'm glad to have seen happen was the end of apartheid in South Africa and getting to know Nelson Mandela," she said.From Washington to Topeka, where women have been serving in the Kansas Legislature for 100 years. Overland Park Democrat Stephanie Clayton was elected to the House in 2012. She said she learned quickly that the rules are different for women and men in political office. "People ask me this all the time, 'Well, who's looking after your kids?' And it's like, 'Well, you might be aware, my children have a father. I'm married to him,'" Clayton said. "When I first started, my daughter was 8 and my son was 2. So when I would say that, the reaction was 'Oh.' So that reaction is like, 'Did I murder somebody?' Obviously, I haven't done anything wrong. And I'd be standing next to a male colleague who has eight children and his wife stays home and home schools and it's totally cool if he does it."Now, a century after the 19th Amendment granted women the right to vote, that old saying still rings true: History doesn't repeat itself, but it does rhyme. Sexist attitudes are ingrained."It's so normalized, I don't think people really stop to think about it," Clayton said.So women keep working until the job is done."Politics seems to still be such a barrier," Bell said.If history rhymes, then the poetry of tomorrow is being written today by the present-day pioneers determined to change what the future holds for the women who come next.It is the Kansas state motto, which is emblazoned on the state flag. Kansas women have persevered through their share of hardships in the 159-year history of the state. They also led the way for the nation. It's a state of pioneers after all. A free state. The first state to allow women to vote in school board elections. The first to hold a referendum on women's suffrage. It's the home of the first woman mayor in America. It is a little-known part of the Kansas story. This free state became new territory for women's rights. Today it's where women are gaining new ground. But as we're about to see, more than a century of progress in the Sunflower State is now under threat.Women had few rights at the turn of the 20th century. A new generation of pioneers in Kansas gave birth to a new vision for the nation and women's role in it. One hundred years ago, women received the right to vote with ratification of the 19th Amendment. The fight for equality didn't stop there."I hope such equality could be carried out into other fields so that men and women may achieve equally in any endeavor they set out," Amelia Earhart said.Kansas women were at the forefront of change.While blazing new trails, mothers and daughters who were taught a woman's place is in the home, found their place in this house, too.In the 21st century, women of all ages are facing new possibilities.Modern pioneers charting a new course on a journey started by suffragists. Some women cite family obligations or finances as a few of the unique barriers holding them back from elected office. Attorney Lauren Allen lives with her daughter, Camille, in Kansas City, Missouri."What gives you hope for the next 100 years?" Haley Harrison asked Allen."I believe what was giving me hope is that my generation wants to see change. We are actually bucking the system. I know they call us sort of whiny millennials, but we're making different changes, right?" Allen said. "We are deciding to chart our own course, and I think that because of that, we're going to see some differences as they play out over the next 100 years, and so I am just looking forward to seeing not only what my generation does but then what Camille's generation does. How much further will they take it? And I think things are going to be vastly different, but in a beautifully wonderfully great way."That hope for a better tomorrow is woven into Allen's family history. When it came to civic activism, her grandfather and namesake Leorn Allen King had a front row seat, from supporting the demolition of the neighborhood eyesore to a unsuccessful run for Missouri state Senate."The beautiful thing about that is my grandfather has a sixth-grade education, Allen said.Allen said she grew up believing anything is possible."They've been saying it since I was a little person, that you can be anything you want to be. I want to actually be able to see individuals holding positions where that becomes true," Allen said.Allen said she is thinking about following in her grandpa's footsteps and running for public office. Ambition is one ingredient. She has plenty of that. But as both breadwinner and a single parent, there are some major obstacles standing in her way. The same challenges many other women face when running for office. "Campaigns take up a lot of time. They are quite expensive, so you know wondering about funding, who's going to be those backers or those financial folks on your team? " she said.The nonpartisan, Kansas City-based Women's Foundation and a University of Kansas researcher looked at what's holding women back from life in public office. No. 1: is the confidence gap. Women don't believe they are qualified to run."There's a statistic out there that women need to be asked nine times before she'll run for office. And she questions herself regarding, 'Am I qualified? Am I good enough to do this?'" Clayton said.No. 2 is support. Women simply are not being asked to serve. Mentoring plays a big role in both.Clayton, of Overland Park, was elected in 2012. She built her confidence to run at her church, the Rotary Club and the PTA." I had also grown up in a family that was very political. My parents voted in all the elections. My dad held elected office. Mother was always PTA president, writing letters to the editor," Clayton said.As a young mother, Kassebaum raised money to start a library at her kids' school in a closet. Collecting, cataloging, and buying books, soon she was on the Maize Kansas school board. Next, she was in the U.S. Senate."That's how I really got involved, and it grew from there to friends who were active with the League of Women Voters who said, 'It's a good time, Nancy. It's an open seat,'" Kassebaum said.As senator, Kassebaum served nearly 20 years. She was the first woman elected in her own right to the 100-member Senate in 1978.Today, there are 26 women in the Senate."At the time I joined the committee, I was the only new person," Allen said.Allen is now building experience and a resume for a possible future run for office."Getting on some of these city boards, municipal boards is like a good spring board for other opportunities, is this the way it works?" Harrison asked Allen."Yes, I think so. I think once individuals are able to hear your name, they see what you're capable of, they know what your skill set is, it certainly opens up so many more doors," Allen said.To get more women involved in local government, the Women's Foundation started the appointments project. In 2014, 33% of appointed positions on Kansas City boards and commissions were women. Five years later, the number is close to half.The Appointments Project helped Allen applied for a position on the board of trustees for city trusts, where the attorney is now using her knowledge of property laws. "So that's sort of what they help you navigate. I see this board has a vacancy, I think I can be of service, now what?" Allen said.The Appointments Project is raising the next generation of leaders in Kansas, Missouri, and now Arizona, taking the fear out of campaigning. It is working. Women sought elected office at historic levels in 2018."I'm happy just to see so many women putting their hat in the ring and showing everyone that we're capable. 'I have the skill set. We are powerful. I know what I'm doing. I am capable of doing this,'" Allen said."The fight for equality is not finished?" Haley Harrison asked."Oh, no. Well, I certainly hope we're not fighting for that in 100 years. If I have to wake up on the other side of heaven and go, 'OK. They are still fighting for the same thing.' I certainly hope that particular fight is over," Allen said.With a legacy of political pioneers shaping our history, the next generation of trailblazers is facing a new fight."Get us to run. You can't win the lottery, if you don't buy a ticket," said state Rep. Barbara Ballard, of Lawrence.Fewer Kansas women are entering the political arena. But a new kind of patriot is emerging from the Kansas Prairie. New women trailblazers, making political change without being elected.Sunflowers are found in every county in Kansas. Resilient. Adaptive. Ad astra per aspera is the Kansas motto: To the stars through difficulty. Like the sunflower, strength from hardship.In Topeka, under the statehouse dome, women are adapting to change. "Kansas has a long history of kind of unusual, crazy politics," Clayton said.Nearly 28% of lawmakers here are women. There used to be more. The number of Kansas women serving in the Legislature is declining."When a woman leaves, one of the things we talk about is find your replacement," Ballard said. "And what happened, a lot of women were here, but those women were not followed by other women. Men took their places."Nevada is the only state where women hold a majority in the statehouse. West Virginia is at the bottom of the list. Kansas, the birthplace of female political pioneers, ranks 28th.A hundred years after women got the right to vote, the number of women serving in Topeka is actually dwindling. It's surprising considering that Kansas is still home to some very powerful women -- Democratic Gov. Laura Kelly, Wichita Republican and Senate President Susan Wagle, and the state's only elected woman in Washington, Democratic Rep. Sharice Davis."Kansas back in 2000, was fifth in the nation for the number of women serving in the Legislature," Haley Harrison said."Oh, that's changed," said state Rep. Brenda Dietrich, of Topeka."Yeah, it's changed big time. 28th. It doesn't seem like maybe it's moving in the right direction," Haley Harrison said."No, but I will tell you, we are here from 7 o'clock in the morning sometimes until 10 o'clock at night. You're just totally engaged here. How do you leave to go to a band concert? Or if you have small children, you have got to have help," Dietrich said."It's certainly busy doing both, whether you're a mother, a homemaker, an accountant, a lawyer, like I am, or a physicist or an engineer or a school teacher. We have a lot of demands on our time and we just do the best we can with what's on our plate," said state Rep. Kellie Warren, of Leawood."Women have to be asked three, four, five, six times to run. Men don't. They don't even have to be asked to run. They do it on their own," Ballard said.Educator and Lawrence Democrat, Ballard was the first African-American woman elected in her own right to the Kansas Legislature in 1992. She said she wants more women serving by her side."Get us to run. You can't win the lottery if you don't buy a ticket. You can't win an election, if you're not in the running for it," Ballard said.There were 47 serving in the 2020 session and they're not the only female patriots making progress on the Kansas prairie.In her Manhattan, Kansas studio, artist Jennifer Hudson has found her muse."I looked at a lot of suffragists' pictures," Hudson said. "Everything in here is a feminist theme. Feminism, they think it's only about women, but it's about equality between the sexes. Equality's coming. We're not there yet."From the 19th Amendment to trailblazing women in the halls of Congress and city halls spread across the country, Hudson's pieces are striking. "Getting women into positions of authority," she said. "I also went back and looked at old Kansas suffrage fliers."And they are being recognized on the 100-year anniversary of women getting the vote as part of a nationwide project.It's the brainchild of Oklahoman, Marilyn Artus, called Her Flag."In my current work, I use the American flag to explore my feelings about being a woman in America," Artus said. "I went, '36 states ratified the 19th Amendment' and then I went '36 states. That's it. That's what's going to happen.' And so I went, 'I'm going to travel to all 36 states.' Right after I said that, the whole idea spewed out, and that was I was going to partner with a woman artist in all 36 states and we were going to create a flag way bigger than this one."Her Flag will be 18 feet by 26 feet.And it isn't done yet.Each state has a different stripe from a different artist."I've done a lot of big projects in the past so I knew I could do it. I knew I could do it and I love road trips," Artus said. With a sewing machine at her side, Artus does her work in state capitals. Needle and thread weaving together more than 100 years of women's history and hopes for the future. Her choice of medium is no coincidence. "It's kind of swings back to this feminist idea of when women couldn't have a job. What were we doing? We were cooking and sewing in the house," Artus said. "So I love kind of taking that sewing and reclaiming it."One of the first stops on her flag's journey is Kansas, which is fitting because women here received their full voting rights eight years before the 19th Amendment."The state motto, featured on the right, means through the stars through difficulty, applicable to both Kansas and the suffrage movement," Artus said.On June 4, 1919, U.S. Senate passed the 19th Amendment, giving women everywhere the right to cast a ballot once it was ratified. In its political trailblazing fashion, Kansas would call a special legislative session in support of all American women. "I've done four of these. Kansas is the fourth state I've been to," Artus said.Kansas, Ohio and New York were among the first to ratify the amendment. "So in each capital city, I'm sewing the stripe that represents that state right there in that capital city. And the artist who created this amazing artwork is Jennifer Hudson. She is right here," Artus said.Missouri followed suit a month later. Tennessee's yes vote on Aug. 18, 1920 finally ratified the amendment -- a milestone for America. Which takes us back to that phrase, often attributed to Mark Twain: "History doesn't repeat itself, but it does rhyme."Argonia, Kansas is one stop on the complicated and winding road to women's suffrage -- the home of the nation's first woman mayor Susanna Salter. Other pioneers followed. One hundred years later, Kansas women are still blazing new trails."The part to me that's so exciting is the travel and making it and getting to engage with people and just be a joy bringer and to be present for them. And I'm not going to cry right now," Artus said. "And help people feel good about something related to America and American history."Kansas history is full of stories of female patriots and women willing to fight for what they believe in. But some of this history could soon be lost forever.In southern Kansas, there's a speck of a city called Argonia. The town is an epicenter of women's history. The problem is few have heard the story.At the corner of North Osage and Garfield streets is the tale of Susanna Salter."She was the first woman mayor in the United States, and it was kind of set up as a joke. The men of the town decided to try and get her elected," said. "They were making fun of her," said Pat Tracy."Yeah, but the joke was on them," Harrison said."Right. In the end it was," Tracy said.That joke was more than 130 years ago but today it is no laughing matter."What is your impression of this and the condition that it's in as you're getting in here?" Haley Harrison asked."Well, it's obvious that it hasn't been cared for in a long time. We knew that it had been closed up and nobody except very few people were allowed in here for approximately seven to 10 years. And so it's obvious that there's a lot of deterioration," said Tracy."As somebody who loves history how do you feel about the condition of the house?" Haley Harrison asked."Breaks my heart. I can't believe that somebody that says they love this house would allow it to become this way," said Tracy. "There was a lot of leakage. The paper is falling in this room. In other rooms, there's plaster coming down."Salter lived in a Gothic-revival brick home. It was built in 1885, two years before she became mayor.The home is on the National and Kansas registers of historic places, though by looking at it, you would never know."She has a great history," Tracy said.Parts of the home have fallen into ruin, so have the relationships between a group of local amateur historians, over how to move forward."Makes me sick," said Valerie Wade.The furnace hasn't worked since the '90s. Roof damage is obvious. There were updates outside years ago thanks to a state grant, but the home has never seen its former glory."There's a lot of stuff missing. We don't know where it went. It's just missing," Wade said."Do you have your suspicions?" Harrison asked."Yeah, we have our suspicions, we do. Yeah," Wade said. "I'm kind of shocked at the conditions in there. Things aren't where they used to be and stuff is gone so, I don't know.""All of this is happening as we're celebrating as a country the 19th Amendment -- 100 years since the 19th Amendment," Haley Harrison said."The timing's not very good that's for sure for this museum," Wade said. "It sure isn't.""What's your vision for this place? What do you want to see?" Haley Harrison asked."Well, we want to get it back open and get tours in here and get it promoted, just back the way it was would be great," Wade said.Wade is among those working to preserve Salter's place in history. Her mother, Carol Pearce, has been there since the start. "They have seen it go downhill and they want it back up there again and I do, too," Pearce said. "Like I said, I've been in it since 1961."At her home, Pearce has decades worth of articles and research about the nation's first female mayor, including the 27-year-old's own telling of how she won over the five men on her City Council. "The first thing I tried to do was to make them think they were the very finest men on earth. After that, I had not a slight bit of trouble with them," Pearce said, reading Salter's account. "Gentlemen, the eyes of Kansas and the United States are watching and waiting to see how I'll run things. I want you to know it's your responsibility, not mine, but I'll help you to the best of my ability.""She should be admired, yes. She made history," Tracy said.During her one-year term, in February 1888, and just shy of her 28th birthday, Mayor Salter gave birth to her fifth child -- a baby boy, Edward Easter. He died days later. Within weeks, Salter and the men on her council passed their first and only new ordinance, appointing a gravedigger and caregiver for the city's cemetery.The next month, Salter finished her term, left office, and quietly went home."I think in a case like Susanna Salter, when she herself was not out pushing herself forward as, 'Remember me. This was huge. I was the first.' and you know, that sort of gets pushed to the background as you have other big accomplishments and milestones that continued on afterwards," Bell said.Those accomplishments, that history, are slowly being lost to time, like one of Salter's tattered hand-sewn quilts."When I came in here last May, it was, you know, it was heartbreaking," said Joan Hemberger. "Our own local school children don't know about this and that's sad. And so we're going to open it up locally and then we're going to go to Sumner County and then we're going to go farther to Wichita. Get the kids in here and let them know what it was like. One of these days."Salter's story now lives on through this small group of amateur historians, through articles and artifacts treasured and cared for by Pearce."I just knew something had to happen. We wanted to honor her. There's only one first woman mayor and she's here," Hemberger said. "Argonia's a small town. She put us on the map."Salter died in 1961, two weeks after her 101st birthday. She had outlived three of her eight surviving children."I wish now I'd gone with my mom to see her. There's a lot of things in life you wish you'd have done, either didn't have time or didn't take time to do it," Pearce said.When Salter's term in office ended, the family moved out of town and headed for Oklahoma. Mayor Salter became known as Mother Salter. The family said she was assertive, outspoken, almost tactless, yet resourceful and independent. She was someone who could darn a sock as well as she could fix a flat tire. On her 100th birthday, Salter sat with the female mayor of Norman, Oklahoma. A newspaper reporter was there to cover the occasion. In Salter's lifetime, women had gone from having almost no civic rights to serving in elected positions from mayors' offices to the U.S. Senate. The woman who became the nation's first female mayor cherished her voice at the ballot box was quoted at 100 years old saying, "I've been a good Republican all my life, and I always go vote -- city elections and all. I take them all in.""I look back and think how much I admire the true grit of those women," Kassebaum said.From the first women's rights convention to the 19th Amendment, women's battle for the vote lasted seven decades."Our history goes way back to Seneca falls, when women got together and said, 'We need to be together and we need to have a vote,'" Kassebaum said."I'm a bit of a history nerd and love the suffrage era," Artus said. "It's just filled with so many amazing stories and women and crazy things that you're like, 'What? What? What happened?"The Sunflower State led the nation."Kansas has a long history of kind of unusual, crazy politics," Clayton said.A century later, there is a new generation."The women ran, and the women won," Ballard said."I think public service is a great thing for women to do," said state Rep. Susan Humphries.Pioneers. "I really admire anybody who has the guts to run for office in this day and age," Finneman said.Patriots."I'm happy to see so many women putting their hat in the ring and showing everyone that we're capable," Allen said.Trailblazers.CHRONICLE EXTRAS:Susanna Madora Salter's recipe for ginger shortcakeYou can find music used in KMBC 9 Chronicle: Pioneers. Patriots. Trailblazers. on Spotify.PODCAST: Behind-the-scenes of KMBC 9 Chronicle: Pioneers. Patriots. Trailblazers.PODCAST: Nancy Landon Kassebaum on the 100th Anniversary of the 19th Amendment