As we near our Golden Years, the days of Social Security and Medicare, we look back on our youth in Oklahoma. We realize the time we spent there is short in comparison to the years we have lived. Yet, when we think of home, we think of Oklahoma.
It was there we learned the value of hard work, family, caring for each other. Those years formed our personality, molded our values, and made us what we are today.
There are so many stories connected to the days we spent on the farm in Oklahoma. Recently Patsy sent me an e-mail titled "Olden Days" in which she expressed a desire to set some of her memories down in book form.
The idea came to me to have each of us recall certain stories of our past. To do this we have been given assignments on a specified topic. Each has written her recollection. This is a collection of those stories along with some of the responses to each other's writings.
Without a doubt, we will leave something out. It is difficult to recall all that happened. But we each have a sense of pleasure remembering our youth.
When I say "poor", I mean POOR! I can relate very well with Loretta Lynn's song, "Coal Miner's Daughter", except Daddy wasn't a coal miner, he was a farmer trying to make a poor man's dollar!
We lived on a 280-acre farm in Oklahoma. Daddy bought and paid $10 an acre for it. We didn't have electricity or plumbing. We drew our water from a well in buckets and heated it in an iron kettle for bath water. We took a bath in a #2 washtub once a week whether we needed it or not, as the saying goes. Yes, we had the famous "outhouse" for a bathroom.
We used kerosene lamps and ironed with wood irons. We cooked on a wood cook stove and heated the house with a pot-bellied heater. We heated water to wash clothes in an iron pot, rubbed soiled clothes on a rub board, washed using a gasoline wringer washer, hung the clothes on the line to dry. Sometimes they froze as fast as we hung them out. We made starch from scratch, starched the clothes until they could stand alone, sprinkled them with a bottle sprinkler and rolled them in a ball for at least an hour or two so the water would penetrate all the fabric. Then we would iron them with the irons heated on a wood stove. We had to use a wooden handle that clipped into the iron.
We had a gasoline refrigerator, cotton ducking over windows to keep the cold air out. We'd move our beds around at night when it rained to keep the drip off us. We sewed on a treadle sewing machine.
We lived in a three-room house (7 of us counting Mama, Daddy and 5 kids). We milked cows, had our own milk, and churned our own butter. Raised hogs, killed hogs, hung the meat in a smokehouse all winter. We had chickens, used their eggs and Mama would wring their necks on Sunday to have meat for Sunday dinner.
In the autumn, we pulled bales and bales of cotton, cut broomcorn, made molasses syrup, gathered pecans, and went to school. And, yes, at one time we walked 2 miles to catch the bus for school, very seldom missing a day.
All 5 of us graduated from High School with reasonably good honors. We went barefoot to grade school many times. We pulled cotton after school. We'd go to town on Saturday and buy 3 yards of material (that's how much it took to make a gathered skirt). More often than not, we would come home, make the skirt in one afternoon and wear it to school on Monday.
Generally, we only went to "town" on Saturdays. We went to church on Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night, and every time the doors were open. Daddy was a Baptist deacon.
As in the words of Loretta Lynn's song, "The work was hard, but we could sleep at night, 'cause we were tard." One thing I remember about my childhood days is, "we were poor, but we had love, that's the one thing Daddy made sure of!"
Our entertainment consisted of settling in on a Saturday night and listening to "The Grand Ole Opry" on a battery powered radio. During the week we would listen to "Roy Rogers Show" or perhaps "The Lone Ranger" and occasionally the singing cowboy, Gene Autry.
We had our own chores on the farm. The boys helped Daddy with the outside chores. The girls helped Mama with the inside chores. The girls took turns doing the dishes. We devised a plan. We would rotate our job. One night, one would wash the dishes, one would dry and one would be "off". The next night, we would rotate. The washer would be off, the dryer would wash and the "off" one would dry, etc. It may not have made much sense to anyone else, but it worked for us!
I wouldn't trade any of my childhood years for all the riches in the world. Daddy, God rest his soul, took us to Church (not sent) and taught us from an early age about Jesus. He taught us about God and was instrumental in leading all his children to the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. We have all made professions of faith and have followed Jesus Christ in Baptism. For that I am most grateful. We learned from him that you didn't have to have money to be rich.
Daddy and Mama were married 54 years at the time of Daddy's death. Daddy and Mama prepared breakfast every morning before getting us off to school. Daddy worked in the fields many times from sun up to sun down. Mama was always in the kitchen preparing supper for us when we got home from school.
In the summertime, we had to help with the garden work. We gathered peas, shelled them by the bushels and helped can them. We have walked for miles to pick a tub full of wild plums and carried them home to make plum jelly. We picked wild blackberries for Mama to make a cobbler for Sunday dinner. That's about the only time we had meat or sweets (on Sunday).
I remember that sometimes the Pastor and his wife would join us for Sunday dinner. During the week we would have black-eyed peas and potatoes one night and potatoes and black-eyed peas the next night! But when the pastor came, we usually had meat of some kind and a dessert.
I thought life was really rough back then, but now I realize that with everything going on in today's world, things weren't that bad at all. God truly blessed us with loving, God-fearing parents, dedicated to the task of "rearing their children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord."Ephesians 6:4
We didn't have many toys. We used our own imagination for entertainment. We would take mud, after a rain, mold it into the shape of a car and place it in the sun to dry. When it was dry, it would become firm and "presto" we had a car! We would then make a town in the sand. We would use boxes for buildings and twigs for trees. The fun would begin! We would pretend to drive our cars up and down the make believe roads. We would laugh and play all day and never get tired or fuss with each other.
We three girls used to make what we would call dollhouses by drawing rooms in the sand under a tree we called "The Big Tree". We each had a rubber doll that someone in the church had given us. We would make a store using old tin cans and boxes that had been thrown away. We would use leaves from the trees for "pretend" money. The bigger leaves would be the 20's and smaller ones would be $10's, $5's and $1's .We played all summer long under the shade of the Big Tree and never were we heard to say, "I'm bored!" Our brothers would make tractors and plows out of baling wire and we would pretend to plow our fields with them.
In the wintertime, we would play "Jacks" on the kitchen table. It was so cold in the kitchen, we would have to go into the other room where the pot-bellied stove was and warm our hands to finish the game.
When it would sleet, as it so often did in Oklahoma, we would skate the livelong day in the creek that ran behind our house.
Sometimes the creek would freeze solid. We always had a great time skating on the frozen solid creek bed. We would eat icicles from the branches of the trees and roof tops. Sometimes we would bring them in the house and melt them on the wood heater just to watch the water form bubbles, dance and pop. When it would snow, we'd run and play all day in it, only coming in occasionally to warm our frozen fingers and toes, then it was right back out for more snow ball fights and making a snowman.
| Assignment: |
Write what you remember about robbing a bee tree. |
| Patsy: |
I honestly don't remember much about the bees. I do remember Daddy buying something to go over his head that seems like it fit on a hat. Just vaguely do I remember about going to watch them rob a tree. I thought I remembered it being in the pecan flat. As I remember, Daddy always told us to stay at the house because he didn't want us to get stung. |
| Mamie: |
This comes to mind about the honeybees: Daddy watched the bees fly from the flowers, clover and such; to see which direction they would go. Then he'd make his way in that direction and find the tree. Usually on Saturday morning, they would take a net that fit over a hat, a smoker and axe and off they'd go to get some honey. Seems like Marion is the one who must have robbed the hive, because he's the only one I remember getting stung. I don't remember going with them. It was Olen who told Daddy about a house in Iowa Park, Texas that had honey in the walls. I think I went on that trip but don't really remember much. Seems like Aunt Mamie and Grandma went, too. I barely remember but think that there was really a lot of honey there. Plenty to go around. Leon and Marion both were in on the bee hive boxes that they had. Were they white in color and stacked up there against the tree where the breaker to the well is today? Also to the north of the house by the chicken house. My memory is not very sharp. What do you remember? Patsy doesn't remember much about the bees either? Just the birds, you say? What's our next assignment, Teacher? |
| Virginia: |
You are right about where the beehives were located. They ordered them from Sears & Roebuck catalog. I don't think the bees ever made that much honey in them. Guess they preferred a hollow tree. The only other thing I can add is, I do remember going with them. I can still see Daddy with bees all over his arm, but they never stung him. They used the smoke to lull them into a peaceful nature. |
| Assignment: |
Write a story about the times we camped and fished on Red River. |
| Mamie: |
There has been a lot of water roll down the river since I was young. I know we wanted to go. We would plan it out to see who would ask Daddy. It took a lot of nerve to ask him to go. We must have gone swimming because our clothes would be red from the water. Did we stay overnight? We must have because Daddy checked trot lines in the morning. You two tell me more. |
| Patsy: |
Will you please tell me what these assignments are about? I don't have a vivid recollection of our trips to the river. I do know Mama made us swimsuits from feed sacks. They were two-piece with spaghetti strap tops and bloomer bottoms. It felt so good to run and play in them and splash in the water. That was the only time Daddy allowed us to wear short pants of any kind. Ok, Jenalu, now you tell us your version of what happened when we camped on Red River. |
| Virginia: |
You girls are not playing fair with me. I give you the assignments, not the other way around. Well here is what I remember: Sometimes in the summer the decision was made that we would all go fishing on the Red River. Everyone got excited. Quilts and blankets were gathered for bedding. We took those wool blankets Daddy had bought in Beaumont. Mama put together leftover biscuits, cans of Spam and Vienna Sausages. Fishing poles were put in, with the proper lines, hooks and sinkers. We got our swimsuits, which were made from feed sacks and resembled shorts with a halter-top. We carried water with us and some 5-gallon buckets. All climbed into and onto the truck. I'm fairly sure it had hay layered in the back where Daddy had been hauling watermelons. We took off in high spirits. When we got to the water tank just north of the Carroll place, Daddy stopped the truck. We all got out and gathered crawdads to use as fishing bait. We placed them in the 5-gallon buckets. We turned south somewhere in the Courtney flat. Daddy knew a road that would take us to the river. There we set up camp. We put the blankets on the ground under the truck. Mama took care of the food. Daddy and the boys took off with fishing lines to set some trot lines to catch us some catfish. We girls got into our swimsuits as quickly as possible and headed to the river. It was very wide with lots of sandbars, as I recall. The water was not very deep in most spots, at least the spots where we were allowed to acute;swim'. Actually all we did was splash because we never learned to swim .We always tried, but never seemed to master it. Marion and Leon learned and they were permitted to go into the deeper water. I don't remember that we ever caught very many fish. But we all had a good time swimming in the water, playing in the sand. A campfire was built and we sat around it to have our food and to talk. |
| Mamie: |
Patsy, doesn't she make you sick? What a long-winded writer! If only I could remember that much from my days of youth. Sounds like we had fun. |
| Assignment: |
Tell me your favorite teacher at Orr, and why. |
| Patsy: |
What's with these assignments, Big Sis? What's going on here? Maybe I need to give you an assignment and that would help me get on with my "Patsy Remembers". Well, I can tell you I can only remember 3 teachers at Orr. Miss. Minnie, 2nd grade; Mr. Bennett, 4-5 & 7-8; Mr. Hicks, 6th. I guess I was in Miss. Minnie's 1st grade class, I really don't know and I don't remember the 3rd grade. It was in the old building. I thought Stanley Patty was a substitute in the 3rd, but he may have been the teacher. I know one thing, I don't have a 3rd grade picture nor do I have a 3rd grade report card. I don't know why. I have the others. So, as you can see, I guess my favorite teacher would probably be Mr. Bennett. I had him the most. I don't know exactly why he would be my favorite; it's just that I didn't have the others long enough to remember. I know Mr. Bennett always had me go to the office and write out the school lunch menu because he thought I could write good. A lesson that I did learn from Mr. Bennett was: "If a person didn't like you, they wouldn't tease you." You know how we didn't have much money for lunch and you know we never got to buy much candy. One day I decided not to eat in the lunchroom with my 15 cents, I went to the Roberts' little store in Orr. As I remember, I bought some chips, orange drink and a Butterfinger candy bar. I ate the chips and drank the big orange, but was saving my candy bar for a snack during the afternoon recess. During a class, Mr. Bennett noticed the candy bar under my desk and he got it. During recess, he ate it. I became very upset and began to cry. He took me to the office and explained to me that he was just teasing me, and that he intended to buy me another one from the candy machine in the hall. That's when he told me if he didn't like me, he wouldn't tease me. He bought me another candy bar. There are a lot of memories of Orr. I remember having ping-pong tournaments. The ping-pong table was set up on the stage. Myrna and I always ended up in the last game. Myrna almost always won. She was really fast. |
| Mamie: |
Well, Patsy, I don't know about these assignments we are getting. This one is really digging deep. I'll have a headache from thinking. You know me, I don't remember much of the past, but choose Mr. Bennett as my favorite teacher. He seemed genuinely concerned about everyone and worked with the slow learners. One time, and I don't know why we did this, just being silly girls, I guess, but we were pestering Mr. Bennett. He must have said he was going to spank us because we were saying, "Spank me". By golly, he did and it hurt!!! We didn't do that again. No siree!!!! I remember Mr. Bennett coaching basketball. I usually played guard but for some reason I played forward in one game. I shot the ball. It made circles around the rim before it fell in. Mr. Bennett laughed because he said my head was going around in circles with the ball. When I won the essay my senior year, Mr. Bennett came all the way from Marietta down to the house to congratulate me. He didn't visit long, and then he left. So I'd say I have a special place in my heart for Mr. Bennett. Now you're making me teary-eyed. Quit that! Teacher, not so fast! Who was your favorite teacher at Orr in the century past? Was Mr. Hicks your only teacher? What are your fondest memories? |
| Virginia: |
Well now, 'Lil' Sis, you are not supposed to turn the tables on me in that way. But I suppose if I want continued cooperation, it would be best for me to reply. When we moved from Beaumont to Orr, I was in the 3rd Grade. Patsy and I were in the same classroom, and Mamie was allowed to sit in on the lessons from February until the end of the year. The teacher of the class was Miss Minnie. She had a sister who also taught at Orr, Miss. Mary. They were both single ladies. Once we chose not to wait at the bus stop until the bus arrived. Instead, we walked the extra distance through the winter winds. When we arrived at school, we were cold through and through. Miss. Minnie had us stand by the pot-bellied wood stove to get warm. After Miss. Minnie, I had Mrs. Tucker for the 5th grade and I really don't remember much about her. It was in her class that we took penmanship. I also remember learning about the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers in Geography. Stanley Patty was my 6th grade teacher. I suppose I would choose him as my favorite teacher. He is the one who made me feel special. He allowed Wilma and me to go to the post office and store for him if he needed something. We were chosen to clean the erasers, an honored task as it allowed us to escape the classroom for a few minutes. Mr. Hicks taught me in the 7th and 8th grades. I have no complaints about his qualifications as a teacher. He was very strict, and was tough. In my 8th grade, there were 7 of us girls. Mr. Hicks chose a play that featured an all-girl cast for our end of school year program. I was cast in a leading role. I had all my lines memorized as well as some of the others. During rehearsal, Mr. Hicks tried to get me to put more action into one of my lines: "I shall be the first to volunteer!" But I just couldn't get the animation he desired. He took me out of the play. Sad. Sad. Later on he found a poem for me to recite, but it wasn't the same as being in the play in my final year at Orr. |
| Assignment: |
Tell me a story concerning riding the school bus. |
| Mamie: |
When we first started school in Orr, we walked along the road that cut diagonally across the Porter field to the head of the canyon to catch the bus. When we could hear the bus coming and we would strike out. One by one we'd walk fast and sometimes run to the bus stop. One spring, after a rain, we walked to the Carroll hill. Mud was caked on our shoes, making them three times the size they should be. Daddy told us that afternoon he didn't want us to walk because he wanted the bus to cut the ruts so he could drive out. If it rained while we were at school, the old bus would slip and slide on the muddy road .The girls would squeal and the boys would laughingly holler. One day after Jenalu was in High School, Patsy and I went to a 4-H Club meeting after school. The leader kept us too long, causing us to miss the bus. We were running in the rain down that road by the Post Office when we saw the bus going down the road to take Jenalu home. We waved, trying to make him see us. But the bus just kept right on going. That made Patsy mad. She thought the bus driver, George Patty, should have seen us. We got as far as the road where the plums grew, above the Carroll hill, when we met the bus coming back. When George saw us, he started laughing. Well, that made Patsy mad, real mad! She wouldn't even get on the bus when he stopped for us. |
| Patsy: |
Mamie got on, but I just kept on walking. He turned around, came back, stopped and told me to get on. I kept on walking, even though I wanted to because it was still raining. I finally got on and it made me so mad that he was laughing. He said we looked like drowned rats. We probably did look a sight; dripping wet with hair stuck to our heads, and water dripping from our noses. But, doggone it, he still shouldn't have laughed. |
| Mamie: |
I think that incident is what started Patsy to kidding around with George. She would say, "Howdy, I'm just so proud to be here", like Minnie Pearl. The louder she said it, the more he laughed. The more he laughed, the louder she said it. Then Patsy left to marry James. It was a rather quiet ride home after that. I was the only lonely Richardson kid for the big yellow bus to pick up. One morning, when it was rainy, George drove down to the house to get me and from that day to the last day of my schooling, that's where the bus picked me up and let me out. |
| Patsy: |
I would sit in the first seat right behind him, yakking up a storm. He would always look up in the mirror and laugh. Do you remember that one time he and I were sitting up there trying to line up a date with Jenalu and his brother, Lee? George's wife, Sylvia, would ride to Ringling with him sometimes. I guess she spent the whole day in Ringling, because she would be on there in the afternoon. I wonder what George did all day every day? George and I would joke and laugh. He always called me Minnie Pearl. Sylvia would sit there stone-faced no matter what was said when George and I would be laughing. The roads didn't get too muddy for George to come get us. He knew we seldom missed a day and would be there waiting on him. When Perry Whitener drove, if it got really muddy, he wouldn't try to come down there. He would turn around at the top of the clay hill by Carroll's. The time we got on with red clay sticking out all over our shoes, some of the kids began to laugh. One who pointed and laughed was Ronnie Haygood. It made me real mad and I got right in his face. I told him that if he didn't shut up, I was going to knock his buckteeth down his throat. He must have believed me, because a quiet fell over the bus and Ronnie quit laughing. There was silence for quite a while. I didn't mind anyone laughing with us, but I sure didn't like them laughing at us. Once, Eugene Whatley and Leon got into a fight. The bus driver put them off the bus. They were rolling around in the ditch when the bus driver drove off and left them. The bus always stopped at Center Point on the way home. The kids would get off to get Cokes, candy bars, ice cream and peanuts to put in their Cokes. We seldom got anything unless we saved the money from our lunch money. I can just see a bus stopping like that now to let kids go into a store! Of course, there probably weren't 20 or 30 kids on the whole bus, if that many. Jenalu, do you remember Mamie and me missing the bus? What a sight we must have been! I remember after I got on the bus, George Patty would look up in the mirror and I just knew he wanted to laugh, but he didn't dare! He had already laughed when I got on, that was enough. You know I didn't laugh and cut up with him for about 2 weeks. |
| Virginia: |
Yes, I remember hearing about it. As you said, I was already home and didn't get to see it. I know Daddy kind of laughed about it years later. Here is my story: In the early 50's, we started attending church in Orr. Raymond and Imogene Pickering came as our student-pastor and his wife. They were young and brought a lot of young people into the church. It was about that time, I did what most teenage girls still do today. I developed a teenage crush on one of the boys in the church. He was about two years older than me and seemed so smart. I didn't mention it then. I don't think I have talked about it much since that time. Orr School District provided two bus routes at that time. Bill Lyles drove the northern route. We were on the southern route driven by George Patty. The buses met at the end of our road where it meets the Orr road at Larkin Burden's house. There all the grade school kids got on Bill Lyles' bus and all the high school students boarded the bus driven by George Patty to be transported to Ringling High School. It was in the fall of my sophomore year that I was left sitting alone after such an exchange of students. I looked toward the front of the bus and saw his blond, wavy hair as he entered the bus. I watched as the object of my affection came down the aisle in my direction. His hand clasped the seat in front of me; he twirled around and slid into the vacant seat beside me. There he was sitting next to me. I did then what was to become a pattern for my life. I blushed. My face got beet red. As I felt the flush of heat cover my face, I opened my library book and started to read, holding my head forward so my long curly locks would cover my reddened face. This was evidently not the response he had hoped for when he mustered the courage to sit beside me. Very soon Monroe Maness arose from the seat beside me and made his way to the back of the bus. He never again made the effort. Neither did anyone else. |
| Assignment: |
Patsy mentioned buying Cokes at the store in Center Point. Describe the manner in which a Coke was purchased. |
| Patsy: |
The only thing I can say about buying the soft drinks then is they were kept in an ice chest type cooler. They came in glass bottles that were in different rows. You would choose the one you liked and slide it down to the end to get it out. Then you would open it right there at the cooler before you ever paid for it. They had metal caps on them that had to be opened with a bottle opener. I remember the drinks seemed a lot colder in the glass bottles than they do in aluminum cans. |
| Mamie: |
Same song. Second verse. I remember someone asking the bus driver to stop at the Center Point store. At first it was an occasional thing, then it got to be an everyday thing. My favorite drink was an orange soda pop. I believe the name was Nehi. I think it costs 5 cents. Is that right? It came in a glass bottle, which was returnable. I don't remember buying the peanuts every time, just sometime. We thought that was the thing to do. I wonder if we'd think so today. I do like to eat candy and nuts together now, so I might still think so. |
| Virginia: |
Yes, that is the way I remember buying soft drinks, except it seems to me when you got the bottle to a certain point, it wouldn't come out until you put in your nickel. Then it released that one bottle, no more. I liked the orange soda as well. Nehi was a brand, but was it the same as Orange Crush? Seems like I liked Orange Crush. And Grapette. It was a lot smaller than Coke, but was so-o-o good. |
| Assignment: |
What can you remember about making molasses? |
| Mamie: |
Water was taken from the pond, added to the cane juice, cooked over fire until it thickened. White foamy substance would come to the top and was skimmed off. That was Mama's and Aunt Mamie's job. Daddy knew how long he wanted to cook it. They would then dip and pour it into a glass jug with a handle on it. It would make several jugs of rich, thick molasses. I remember coming home from school, rushing to the field because I knew Grandma would be there. How accurate am I on this one? We would serve our molasses thick, but I think Aunt Mamie would thin hers down like waffle syrup. It was yummy. |
| Virginia: |
That is about the way it was. I don't remember pond water being used in the cooking. I thought the juice just cooked down until it was molasses. It started at one end of the vat as a green juice. The fire was under the other end. As it cooked and got done, it was removed to the jugs. The green juice was then moved down the vat, through a series of baffles. Always removing the cooked molasses from the fire. Always adding new juice to the top of the vat. The cane was cut using long knives. I don't remember if we had machetes, or cane knives, or if we used large butcher knives. That job was left to Daddy, Marion and Leon. We three girls helped load it on the trailer to carry to the syrup mill. I do remember chewing on the cane to savor the sweet taste of the juice. |
| Patsy: |
Well, it is sort of hard to tell your remembrance of something that you don't really remember. All I remember about the sorghum syrup is that we grew and cut the sugar cane to make the syrup. Grandma, Aunt Mamie, and Cecil usually came down when we made it. I don't remember much about cutting the cane. I think, maybe, Daddy and the boys did that. I do remember breaking the stalks and acute;sucking' the juice out of it because it was real sweet. We would help feed the cane stalks through the cane press to squeeze the juice from it. We also took the mashed stalks and stacked them in a pile after the juice had been squeezed out. It was then hauled to feed the cows. The syrup mill was powered by a belt (or maybe two) that ran from the tractor to a wheel on the mill. There was a long trough that ran down about 5 or 6 feet. I remember Daddy getting water from a pond for some reason; don't remember exactly what it was used for unless it was poured in with the juice from the cane. I do know there was a fire made from wood built under the trough at one end that cooked the syrup. A scum would form on top when cooking the syrup. This had to be dipped off. Aunt Mamie usually did that. That's really about all I remember about it, except the syrup was real thick and dark in color. |
| Assignment: |
Tell me about pulling bolls on the farm. |
| Mamie: |
Just the mention of pulling cotton bolls makes my back hurt. Mama made our cotton sacks from ducking material. They were about 20 feet long. No, no, just kidding. You know how things looked bigger to us as kids than they do to us now. I guess they were maybe 6 feet long. They had a wide shoulder strap. After the morning dew burned off, we would begin pulling bolls. At first it was easy enough, but the farther down the row you got, the tougher it became. By that time, your back hurt from bending over and your sack was getting heavy because it was getting full. We tried bending on our knees and it did work for a while, but soon that would be tiring too. You would have to stop ever now and then to shake the cotton down to the bottom of your sack. I was always glad to see a skip in the row so I could stand up straight and walk a couple of feet. Sometimes my sack might get heavy suddenly. That's because I had a passenger aboard and her initials were Patsy Richardson. The trailer was parked about 3/4 of the way down the row. Usually by the time you pulled to the trailer, your sack was full. Time to weigh your cotton, record the weight, unload your sack, get a drink of water and continue on. Does my memory serve me correctly, that I pulled 65 pounds at a whack? Surely not! That sounds like a lot to me. We went through a lot of gloves in those cotton fields. Those were the days! |
| Virginia: |
Your weight of 65 pounds is not out of line. Sometimes that sack would be pretty full by the time we reached the end of the row. At the end of the day, when it was time to stop, sometimes you would look up, and there would come Daddy, picking to meet you. Then he would turn around and help someone else to the end of his or her row. Mama was the official weight keeper. She was good at adding all the weights. She recorded it by the amount each person pulled. She totaled each score for the day, and then added all the totals to get the net amount picked that day. When there was about 1200 - 1500 pounds, Daddy would take it to the gin. It took that much to make a bale of cotton after the seed and burs were removed. When that last row was picked for the day, we would be so tired. We took the last sack to the scales, weighed it, and emptied it into the trailer. Most of the time Marion did the unloading of the sacks, packing it down with his feet. Then when we were told we could go home, we took off running. I don't know where that energy came from, but it always seemed to come after we knew we didn't have to pick another row. |
| Patsy: |
As far as pullin' cotton goes, I remember doing it at a very young age until we left home. Cotton was always pulled after the first frost and the leaves were gone. I have the memory of Daddy going to the field and checking when the frost or dew was gone; then he and the boys would pull bolls in the morning and the girls would stay at the house and help Mama get lunch ready. Daddy and the boys would come home for lunch. We would all go to the field and pull until dark. We almost always "pulled" the cotton bolls, instead of picking it. We would pull the cotton in a ducking sack that Mama made on a treadle sewing machine. The cotton sack may have seemed bigger than it actually was. I know it seemed to be about 6 or 8 feet long (seemed even longer after a day of pulling). I know it held at least 70 pounds, because I remember pulling that much cotton at one time. The boys' sacks were made a little larger, so I imagine they could pull a hundred pounds at a time. I remember wearing a blister on our shoulder where the strap would rub. Most of the time we wore long sleeves so as not to scratch our arms. We wore gloves to protect our hands. We usually pulled two rows at a time. We would strip the cotton from the stalks by starting at the bottom and coming up the stalk. Sometimes we would race to see who could get to the end of the row first, and then turn around and race back, pulling two rows going to the scales. The scales were not like the ones we have now, with digital numbers. They were hung from a board, which stuck out from the top of the trailer. They consisted of a metal hook for hanging, then a split metal piece that fit through a hole in another piece of metal, allowing that piece to swing up and down. That piece of metal was large and curved at one end, and tapered to about an inch at the other end. It had another hole through which a ring and hook was attached. That was where the cotton sack was placed for weighing. This would cause the narrow end of the long metal piece to rise up. There was another piece of molded metal, roughly in the shape of a bell, which had a hook on it. This was a pound value and the weight of it caused the metal bar to lower, and when it was level that was the weight of the cotton. The pound value piece was abbreviated p. v. and was called a "p". The "p" was placed on the bar, which was notched. It was moved toward the narrow end until the scales balanced. |
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We would weigh our cotton and Mama, who was good with figures, wrote it down. She kept up with the weights. I don't remember how many pounds it took to make a bale. Marion and Leon usually got in the trailer. Daddy would hand the sack up to them. They would empty it and stomp it to pack it in the trailer. When the amount was sufficient to make a bale, Daddy and the boys would take it to the cotton gin. The cotton gin was a machine that would separate the seed from the cotton. The cotton was then baled to make cloth and thread. The seed were pressed to make cooking oil or soap. |
| Assignment: |
What do you remember about the sawmill? |
| Virginia: |
I really don't remember much about the sawmill. I do remember that Henry Whitener helped to saw down some of the oak trees. He helped saw the lumber that was very rough. We were going to build each of us a new house. The only thing I remember that the lumber was used for was a room on Henry and Iva's house. |
| Mamie: |
We built a chicken house with lumber from the sawmill. It was North of the house in the trees with the garden below. We'd walk, barefoot of course, in the shade of the trees to and from the chicken house to gather eggs. I'm kinda' glad it didn't work out. I don't think we'd have as nice a house to go back to now, had it worked as planned back then, do you? |
| Virginia: |
I didn't remember the chicken house was made from the sawmill lumber. Glad we got something out of it anyway. I had never thought of it the way you expressed it, that if we had updated the old house, they might not have built a new one. |
| Patsy: |
Not much remembrance of the sawmill. Leon said it was bought from Lee Grant. I know it was across the creek about halfway between the house and the field, just at the edge of the mesquite trees near a little gully that held water. I think it took water some way to run the sawmill. I don't remember just how. I know that when Daddy bought the sawmill, he was going to cut trees from our property; his plans included building us a new house. To my knowledge, all we ever built was the hen house and a room onto Henry and Iva's house. I don't really remember too much about how it ran or anything. I think we were small enough that Daddy didn't let us stay around the sawmill too much for fear we might get hurt. |
| Assignment: |
Write about an incident involving our trips to town on Saturday. |
| Mamie: |
It's fun strolling down memory lane with you two and sharing our stories. Since they have been somewhat similar, let's take a new path. Let's have Patsy come to 'the front and center page' and take us back in time to our travel into Ringling on Saturdays. She tells that story r-e-a-l good. |
| Virginia: |
Ms. Gunn, are you trying to avoid an assignment? What you remember may be similar to what we remember, but it is different in the way you write it. You may even remember an incident we forgot, or perhaps something that happened after we were gone. |
| Mamie: |
No, no, Mrs. Roberts, I refuse. Let's do it MY way this time. Let's change it up a little. All who vote for Mamie's way raise your hand? I see your hand raised, Patsy, and of course my hand is up in the air. You lose, Jenalu. |
| Patsy: |
I read 'Lil' Sis's letter where she tried to put the going to town off on me by saying, "Patsy tells it r-e-a-l good." I'm glad you didn't buy that story! I don't know how mine could be any better than yours. Mamie, you know I didn't vote that way. |
| Mamie: |
O. K. If teacher says I have to, I'll write about going to town. Kick, kick, stomp, stomp. Puff up, lip to the floor. |
In the 1950's, farmers were usually busy doing their crops Monday through Friday. On Saturday the family would make a trip into the nearest town to buy their supplies for the following week.
As I recall, we would arise early on Saturday with the noise of Mama and Daddy in the kitchen making breakfast for the family. After breakfast, we were admonished to get ready to go to Ringling for our big "Saturday on the town".
We didn't have to be told twice to get ready, because it was a acute;treat' to go to town on Saturday. Other than Church on Sunday and Wednesday night, this was about our only entertainment. What I mean is that this was about the only place we went, so we looked forward to it with great anticipation.
About 10:00 every Saturday morning, the seven of us would load up in the big green truck and head for Ringling; Daddy driving of course, Mama and the three girls in the front seat with the boys riding in the back. We would head down a acute;washboard' road (as Daddy called it) for about 16 miles to town. When we got there, we'd all pile out and more often than not there would be Cecil, Aunt Mamie and Grandma (with her black hat on) to greet us. We would visit with them for a while, then we were off to see if we could find any of our friends there. Sometimes some of the Whiteners would be there and a few times Myrna Patty would be there. About noon, we would make our way back to Daddy where he would be standing talking with a group of men about crops, I suppose. Anyway, I remember standing around until Daddy would say, "What do you want?" He knew all the time we wanted our quarter that we were accustomed to getting. He'd reach into his pocket and pull out three quarters and give each of us girls one apiece. Then he would say with a little crooked grin, "There, now, get out of here and I don't want to see you until it's time to go home." That's exactly what we did.
We took our quarter and headed straight to the acute;picture show' to watch Roy Rogers and Dale Evans or Gene Autry (in black and white). It cost 10 cents to get into the show. Once in the picture show, we would make our way to a seat. I remember how dark it was when we first came in, but after we were there awhile, we could see who was there. We sometimes changed places to sit with our friends.
Before settling in to watch the featured show, we would go get a nickel bag of popcorn and a nickel drink, usually a big orange. We would watch the show with great enthusiasm, and couldn't wait until the next Saturday to see another one.
After the show, the lights would come on and we would make our way to the outside. Remember how bright it seemed outside? It would take a while for our eyes to adjust.
We would then make a tour through the Variety Store, sometimes finding something to spend that last nickel on. By this time Mama & Daddy would be in Syble's grocery store finishing up the day by buying groceries. If we didn't find anything in the Variety Store that we wanted or could afford (we never went back to Daddy for more money), we would check to see how much Daddy lacked being through in the grocery store. Then we would rush to Moore's Drug Store and buy either an ice cream cone or a cherry fizz! Our day was complete and it was then time to go home.
Sometimes on the way home, we would stop off to visit with Ma and Pa. I remember going to Norma's house and riding her bicycle. That, also, was a big treat because we didn't have a bicycle. More often than not, Norma didn't come out to ride with us. I think we just went over to her house that was in the same block as Ma & Pa's house, and rode her bike. I don't guess she cared if we did, because she never hid it from us.
We would end up back home about 5:00 in the afternoon after a big day in Ringling. All that would be left of Saturday was supper time and chore time. It would be another week before we'd do it all again!
| Virginia: |
That just about covers the whole picture. Do you recall the last item purchased before going home? It was usually a block of ice at the icehouse to use in our icebox at home. Remember how they chipped it off with a big pick, and Daddy wrapped it in a burlap sack to keep it from melting? There is one particular incident I recall. In the fall, the merchants in Ringling donated prizes to hold a drawing. The purpose of this, I would assume, was to get people into town to buy things. We could register at each of the stores, and we did. On Saturday afternoon, the west end of Main Street was blocked to traffic. A stage was set up so everyone could see the tickets as they were drawn from the box. Everyone gathered in the streets when the drawing began. We had started going to church and were learning about prayer. There was a watch being given away, and I shut my eyes and said a silent prayer that the ticket drawn from the box would be mine. That is when I learned that God answers prayer; sometimes the answer is, "No." That was the case this time. I did not win the watch. I was disappointed. The next Saturday, we were late getting to town for some reason. When we got there, Aunt Mamie greeted us with, "You need to go to Delbert's store. Virginia has won a prize and that is where she has to claim it." When I got there, the prize was a beautiful doll. She had a frilly dress, blond curly hair, eyes that opened and closed. When you turned her on her side, she would cry. She was fairly large, and packaged in a box with a cellophane front. She was like the one I had wanted in Beaumont and Daddy's arms could not reach the top shelf to get for me. The only problem wrong with the whole situation was by the time I won the doll, I was in High School. She did not mean as much as she would have when I was smaller. We did take her home and play with her, however. |
| Mamie: |
It was our only means of transportation, so we had to go in the truck. Marion and Leon were in the back end. Mama, Daddy and three girls rode in the front cab. Four people could sit on the seat, so we took turns among us girls who would sit on the acute;edge'. It was a slow drive. Seems like Daddy didn't go much over 40 mph. I'm sure that whipped up a good wind for Marion and Leon in the back. When cars would pass him, Daddy would say something like, "Go on if you're in a hurry" and keep on going his speed. We looked forward to seeing Grandma, Aunt Mamie and Cecil in town. Since Aunt Mamie would do more shopping than Mama, we would go with her to L. D. Thomas Dry Goods Store. She bought material for dresses there. She would go to The Variety Store for crochet thread and such. The Variety store was just that: a place where you could buy a variety of items. We know it as Dollar General or Family Dollar today. It was not as large as K-Mart or Wal-Mart. When Daddy made his way down to the feed store (at the east end of Main Street), we would bail out of the truck and pick which print we wanted on the sack. We used feed sacks as material to make our dresses. Out of respect to Mama, we would go by Ma and Pa's on the way home. We might have gone by on the way into Ringling sometimes, but seems like it was more often on the way home. They were always happy to see us. Ma would sit in her rocker and Pa was in a chair. They both dipped snuff. Ma could spit in her can, but Pa wasn't quite as accurate. Oh, it was gross! Usually, one or more of the aunts would be there, especially Ruby or Sis. I was always glad when Daddy said, "Well, I guess we'd better get home." It was time to putt-putt down the road to home. "Home, Sweet Home." |
| Virginia: |
Just a little tidbit. I remember once when we were there, Ma got out of her chair and headed toward the kitchen. Pa said, "Tiny, when you come back, bring me one of those biscuits on the back of the stove. And sop it in the bacon grease for me." She did. She waited on him quite a bit. The fat must not have been a problem for him, since he lived to be over 90. |
Our love for cats began a long time ago. We took that from Dad. He liked to have cats around to catch mice and rats. The female cats were the acute;hunters' so we had a couple of them. It wasn't all work and no play for the felines and when they began to put on a few pounds in the middle, we knew she was going to have kittens. When it was time for them to be born, Daddy would fix a box with rags in it for her bed. There would usually be four baby kittens in a litter.
Patsy would acute;claim' the yellow one; I would get the little fuzzy gray one with white feet and a sweet, precious little face. Yeah, yeah, Patsy, yours was just as pretty with a white nose, throat and paws and sometimes a white tipped tail. But this is my story. You'll have to wait until I'm finished to add your tidbits. Now, back to my story. Jenalu took what was left as her kitty, usually the tabby or black and white one. She was more interested in reading the Reader's Digest and doing the crossword puzzle. Can you imagine that?
We loved the little babies. In seven days, their little eyes would begin to open. Oh, I'm getting ahead of myself. We watched as the babies nursed and since their eyes weren't open yet, they would nudge and feel their way for acute;dinner'. Sometimes we would help them find it by pinching the milk out and rubbing their noses in it. Mommy probably thought, "I wish you wouldn't do that." Ha ha.
It didn't take them long to learn and in a day's time, they would be fighting and clawing over the same acute;spout'. We would help our acute;pick' to make sure he was being treated fairly. Ha ha. They would get so full and soon fall to sleep. We could slip our hands under them and let them sleep in our hands. They must have had dreams as they would jump and jerk while sleeping. We loved those babies so much.
When we could see a little crack along their eyelid, we knew that in a couple of days, their eyes would open. It was then that they seemed to want to crawl. They were so wobbly at first. We would hold their little tummies off the floor and acute;help' them learn to crawl. Very soon that stage was over and they would be running and playing. The little capers they could pull made them a joy to watch.
They grew from cuddly little kittens into teen cats and probably at six months, I would say, Daddy would decide that some of the farmhouses needed a cat. He would bag them in a burlap sack and distribute them on the way to Ringling. He always let them out near a house so they would be taken in (hopefully) and given food, water and shelter. Some would hit the ground running, while others would cower to the ground wondering what was going on. We wanted to cry but to no avail. It needed to be done, or so Daddy said. Why couldn't we just keep them all?
But you know what? It wasn't long after we gave away one litter until the Mamas would have another. The cycle continued and we loved each new baby just as much.
Now Patsy, Jenalu, it's your turn. Got anything to add?
| Virginia: |
I can't add anything more on the cat story. I can tell you a dog story, though. Just as we selected kittens from the new litter as acute;our' kitten, so it was when a litter of puppies was born. Out of one such litter I chose a creamy white female as my pup. We gave her the name Snowball. She was a fine dog, gentle in nature. She loved to be petted. I was happy to oblige. One day Henry Whitener came to the house; Big Henry Whitener, that is. Not the Henry Whitener who was married to Iva. He had his squirrel gun with him, so Daddy got his .22 rifle down from its spot over the door. He took off with Henry, Leon and Marion going along. Snowball and two other of our dogs, Mike and Buster, trailed along behind. When they came back, they had a string of squirrels to show for their effort. Daddy and Henry stood talking in the yard for a long time. Seems that Henry thought Snowball was the best squirrel dog he had ever hunted with. He offered Daddy his gun in trade for Snowball. Well, Snowball was my dog, but Daddy traded her away. I stood at the window in the kitchen and watched them walking away, Henry Whitener with my dog. I cried. Tears rolled down my cheek. But it did no good. The deal had been made. From that day, I have never really gotten attached to another dog, and was not too strongly attached to the kittens we selected either. Reality made me know it would do no good. |
| Mamie: |
Was it Mike or Buster that got into a fight, perhaps with each other, and lost one of his eyes? What was the name of our female dog? I liked to smell little puppy's breath. I heard someone speak of that just the other day... smelling puppy breath. If your Snowball was a female, Jenalu, that's probably why the trade of dog for gun was so, appealing to Daddy. But kids don't see things like adults, do they? |
| Patsy: |
I believe the dog that ended up with the missing eye was named Mike. |
| Virginia: |
I don't remember the name of Snowball's mother, but Snowball had some litters of puppies. You may be right, that may have been one of the reasons Daddy made the trade. |
We were introduced to "Mother Nature" at a young age due to the fact that we lived on a 280-acre spread in Oklahoma. Not only did we have our domestic pets, but we also captured a few wildlife animals and claimed them as acute;our pet'.
Our domestic pets included dogs Mike, Buster, Snowball and a few others. We had too many cats to remember the names of all of them. Mamie was the acute;cat lover' while I was the acute;dog lover'. I really don't think Jenalu had a preference.
I remember when we felt like it was about time for the mama cats to acute;deliver' their young, we would get an apple crate and fix a nice clean bed for her to give birth. Wrong! The mamas very seldom chose to have their babies in the box. Instead, they usually found a dark place under the bed, out of sight.
Each morning we would spring out of bed and run to the box to see if the kittens were born, so we could get first pick. Mamie would choose the gray one, I preferred the yellow and I think Jenalu would usually choose the calico, which incidentally was Grandma's favorite.
We spent many hours watching the kittens play, as well as playing with the new puppies. For us as children it was pure delight to drag a string across the floor to have a kitten chase it until it was completely worn out. We would throw a stick for a puppy and watch him go get it and bring it back until he finally got tired and sprawled out under the shade of a big tree, his belly flat on the ground to cool himself.
Once, I remember, we caught two baby squirrels. I'm sure we named them, but I don't remember what. Daddy made some type of cage for them. It seems like he made it from some old screen wire. I really don't know how he came by screen wire, because I don't think there was a single screen on the windows or doors to our house.
We fed the squirrels and they became tame. We would give them a pecan and they would immediately run up our arm and sit on our shoulder to eat it. Then came the day Daddy decided it was time to return the squirrels to their natural habitat. With sad little faces we went across the creek and let them go. I didn't realize it then, but now I know, "Father Knows Best."
I always loved our little feathered friends. I remember sneaking biscuits out, crumbling them to feed the birds out by the woodpile on the west side of the house. I loved to watch the pretty hummingbirds as they dipped their long beaks into a lilac blossom for nectar. I wanted to catch one so bad. One day Daddy saw Mamie and me trying to catch a hummingbird in a box. He said, "You girls are going at it all wrong. To catch a hummingbird, you sprinkle salt on its tail." Do you know we tried all day to put salt on the tail of a hummingbird? It wasn't until several failed attempts that we realized what he meant by that statement.
I am glad we had the opportunity to have pets and learn how to care for and appreciate them.
| Assignment: |
We celebrated holidays in Oklahoma, but some of the traditions we take for granted today were not a part of our growing up years. Let's each take a holiday and describe it. Patsy, you take Christmas. Mamie, what do you remember about Valentine's Day. I'll write something about Easter. |
I guess this generation would think it 'sad' to hear that I don't remember ever getting gifts at home for Christmas. We did not have the traditional Christmas tree each year. We had cedar trees on our land, but Daddy did not want to cut them.
One year, the three of us sisters took it upon ourselves to get some sort of tree and decorate it for Christmas. The only thing we found was a tumbleweed blowing in the wind. It had a nice full, round shape, so we took it to the house and started making decorations to put on it. We gathered some kind of berries that we found in the woods and strung them with a needle and thread to make a string of beads for the tree. Next, we cut strips of notebook paper, colored it with crayons, and glued them together with flour and water paste to make a chain. Then we made a popcorn string. We added the final touch by putting a colored star made out of paper on the top. I think we nominated Virginia to make the star because she could always draw and color so good.
By today's standards, I'm sure it would have been the most pitiful Christmas tree you'd ever expect to see. For us, it was the most beautiful Christmas tree. You see, it wasn't a tree you put up in a matter of minutes, decorated with store-bought ornaments. We used our own resources and our own imaginations. To us it was beautiful.
I remember three ways we celebrated Christmas. We had a big Christmas tree at school. The gifts that we had gotten for the name we had drawn were placed under the tree to be given out by Santa Claus the night of the school Christmas program. Also, on that night sacks of candy, apples, oranges and nuts were given to each family. I know that wouldn't mean much to kids today, but to us it was a big treat!
I recall having a Christmas play at Church and a Christmas tree also. Imogene, our pastor's wife, along with Mrs. Edwards would arrange a hay ride to take the young people caroling. I know it had to be cold, but we felt warm all over when people came to the door to tell us how much it meant to them for us to sing for them.
We usually went to Grandma's for Christmas. This was always exciting. I don't remember the food or any gifts that we may have gotten (perhaps a silk head scarf from Grandma) being so important. What meant the most to me was being with family. We had aunts and uncles coming distances to be with Grandma on Christmas. Of course, we were interested mainly because when the aunts and uncles came, that meant cousins came too!
We looked forward to seeing and playing with James Lowell, Joe Dean and Sherman Dale. We enjoyed our second cousins, James and Patricia, Lloyd, Lynn and Linda (our age) to play with. We used to love to carry Walter and Wanda's kids around. That was mostly Sarah, Mary and Margaret. The kinfolk who lived farthest away were not always able to visit every year. Once in a while Uncle Edgar and Aunt Elsie would come from California, but their kids were older than we were so we didn't really get to know them too well. Then Uncle Oran and Aunt Alice sometimes came from Beaumont, Texas. Aunt Alice did not come every time Uncle Oran did. I do remember Stephen (we called him Stevie) being there. We always looked forward to seeing him. He would bring his Old Maid cards and we would play all afternoon.
The fondest memories I have of Christmas are those of the family being together.
| Virginia: |
I agree that most people think we were deprived because we didn't receive gifts. That is such a part of modern Christmas tradition. I don't have any sadness when I recall those days without gifts. That's just the way it was. And we did appreciate those bags of goodies the community provided under the Christmas tree. Remember how good it was to slurp that ribbon candy? That was such a vital part of Christmas! Let me add a little story to your presentation. As you said, we usually went to Grandma's house for Christmas dinner. The year Walter married Wanda they came to be with all the family. Aunt Mamie always made a pecan pie that had raisins in it. That sure tasted good. This particular Christmas, Wanda was in the kitchen making the biscuits. We didn't know Wanda at that time. We saw those biscuits then went into Aunt Mamie's bedroom and discussed how BIG they were. They were the biggest, fattest biscuits we had ever seen. We were not particularly fond of BIG biscuits. We decided they were not going to be any good at all. And she had them in the pan long before it was time to cook them. Those biscuits just kept getting bigger and bigger. |
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The rest of the dinner was almost ready to serve when she finally put them in the oven. Then the aroma that filled the kitchen was heavenly. When she took them out of the oven, they were golden brown. Well, we decided we would give it a try. If they weren't any good, we could always throw them out to the dogs. Those were the best acute;biscuits' we had ever tasted. As you probably remember, that was our first experience with homemade yeast rolls. Um-m-m-m good!!! |
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| Patsy: |
I had forgotten all about Wanda's 'biscuits'. I remembered immediately that they were rolls instead of biscuits. They were good! From that point on, we thought Wanda was the best cook around! |
| Mamie: |
Valentine cards are different today. We had the good kind. Our cards, for example, might have a picture of a bee with a verse such as: Bee my Valentine. Can you two think of any more catchy verses that we liked so much? The verse went along with the picture more than it does on today's cards. We took the cards to school, put them in a box that was decorated with crepe paper and hearts. The Valentines were drawn from the box one at a time. The receiver's name was called and you went forward to get your card. I didn't get a Valentine card from everyone. I remember checking to see if I got one from Dale Gore. Ollie Thompson and I both had a crush on him. Yap! I got one...but so did Ollie. |
| Virginia: |
One thing about the Valentines, we had store bought cards like everyone else had. We must have gotten them at the Variety store. What about a picture of a peach and a pear with: We make a peach of a pair. Or: I want you for my Valentine and I'm not Lion. That's right. There was a picture of a lion. |
| Virginia: |
One thing about the Easter egg hunt, we could participate. We had eggs in abundance. Each year we would boil a dozen eggs or more. We bought Easter egg coloring at the Variety Store in Ringling. We mixed the colors in different bowls. What fun it was to put a boiled egg on the wire dipper, place one end in the purple pot and the other end in the yellow to make a two-tone egg. There were decals to wet and press against the egg to put a picture of a cross, daffodils or bunnies on the decorated eggs. On Friday before Easter, we took them to school. There our teachers took them and hid them for us to hunt and search them out. One year we rode the school bus and to the field just the other side of Clear Creek bridge. That was special to be that far from the school. It had high grasses and mesquite bushes. I'm not sure we found all the eggs that were hidden. |
| Patsy: |
The prize egg was always real big, a turkey egg I think. It was worth a fifty-cent piece if you found it. I don't remember if any of us ever found it or not. |
| Virginia: |
Of course, we always went to Church on Easter Sunday. While the Christmas story told of the birth of Jesus and was a happy story, the Easter story to me was always sad. But it was meaningful to hear of Jesus' triumphant victory over death. To sing the songs of Easter was special: "He Arose", "Christ the Lord is Risen Today", "He Lives", "One Day". |
Mamie asked me by e-mail to write some of the memories of California and Beaumont because she was too young to remember those times. Well, 'Lil' Sis, you are only 3 years younger than I am. I don't remember those times too well myself. But here goes:
When Mama was living with Mamie, she came to visit us for a few weeks occasionally. During that time she would begin to tell old-time stories. Unfortunately, she would usually start the story about 15 minutes before the end of "Matlock". I would listen to her story with one ear, and keep the other ear tuned to the TV to find out acute;who done it'. These are stories from her memory, and I may embellish with what I assume may have happened. This incident took place when I was a baby. Mama and Daddy had taken us to Grandma's house for the day. Uncle Jesse was there with Opal and their new baby, Joe Dean. Sometime in the day Opal and Mama got into a disagreement. Mama never said what it was about and I suspect she has forgotten because it was such a small thing. At any rate, somewhere along the line Opal said to Daddy, "You had better get her out of here, Albert, before I have to whip her." Well, with that, Mama turned to Grandma who was standing nearby and handed me to her. She informed Opal that there would be two in on the whipping if any whipping would be done. Knowing Mama, I wouldn't have wanted to be the one to tackle her.
At that point, I am sure, Daddy and Uncle Jesse stepped in and calmed the situation down. At any rate, no fight occurred. And, I might add, Opal and Mama worked out their differences and became friends. In fact, Opal's mother married Mama's brother. For a while Opal was our aunt on Daddy's side of the family and her mother, Flora, was our aunt on Mama's side of the family, having married our Uncle Fred.
Uncle Jesse, Opal, and their boys visited us at least once and perhaps more when we were growing up in Oklahoma. When I graduated High School, it was Opal who opened her house to me and provided a room for me when I first went to Azle to find a job. She took me job searching. After all the kids were grown and gone from home, they corresponded - Mama and Opal - until Opal died.
Another little tidbit of information also happened at Grandma's house. I don't remember ever hearing it told in my growing up years, only after I was grown. In fact, I have only heard it told once, and may not have the facts completely right.
The incident happened when I was a toddler, I suppose Patsy was a baby, but I don't know that for sure. Daddy and some of his brothers had been squirrel hunting. They had returned and were standing and talking under the trees in front of the house. Daddy was holding his rifle by the barrel, butt end on the ground. I came toddling along and pulled the trigger. The shot entered through Daddy's throat under the chin, the bullet lodged in his tongue. I am sure he must have been knocked to the ground. I suppose they took him to the doctor because at some point he was told it was safer to leave the bullet in the tongue than try to remove it. He did have a bullet in his tongue, that much I do remember. It seems to me, though, that sometime after I had left home the bullet worked its way out. I may be wrong about that.
Besides the thoughts recorded in "Barefoot Days", I recall one other incident of the time we were living in San Francisco, California. Daddy had gone there to work in the shipyards. Uncle Edgar had helped him get a job there during the war. Like Daddy, many other men who where too old to serve in the military made their way to California to find employment. Housing was scarce. We rented an apartment upstairs. The people in the apartment below had family they wanted to move to California. They did several things that seemed to Daddy and Mama as though they were trying to get us to move, so they could take our apartment.
One evening Daddy was coming home from work. He was carrying a bag of groceries. He was met on the porch at the front entry by our neighbors. They were trying to block his entrance into the building. Well, Daddy did have a hot temper and he lost it. Somewhere in my memory there is a remembrance of the grocery sack splitting apart, canned goods falling all over the porch.
Someone called the police. When they arrived, they took all the participants to the police station to be questioned. From what I understand, Daddy was not coming out too well. His righteous indignation at knowing he did not cause the problem probably didn't aid his cause. He was at the point of being put in jail, when a lady stepped forward. She just happened to be the sister of one of the police officers. She lived across the street from us. She had seen the whole situation develop and had gone to the police station to set the record straight. She spoke up for Daddy, telling them it was not his fault. Her account was believed, much to Daddy's relief
That incident, along with a longing to be back on the farm, prompted Daddy to pack up and head back to Oklahoma. The lady who spoke up for Daddy gave us some items she was no longer using. The dinner knives (we referred to them as Case knives) we used in Oklahoma was part of her gift to us.
I do not know the amount of time involved between moving back to Oklahoma and the decision to move to Beaumont. Uncle Oran was working for Magnolia Petroleum Company. Through him, Daddy was able to get a job with Magnolia. He took the Hoopie (the car that was wrecked on the way home from California), and went with Marion and Leon and our belongings to find us a place to stay in Beaumont. Mama and we three sisters stayed behind with Grandma. When he had a place for us, Daddy sent money for us to join him. We were to travel by train.
Grandma and Cecil went to the depot with us to see Mama safely aboard. Grandma kept saying she felt she should go with Mama to help her with the three little girls. She also worried because of Mama's medical condition. But the decision was finally made that Mama could make the journey alone.
We boarded the train. More than likely, I was given the window seat so I could see out. This kept me entertained. Mama sat next to me, with Mamie in her lap. Patsy was on the aisle. I do not know ages, but I know I was under six years old, because I started first grade after we got to Beaumont. That would make Patsy four or under, and Mamie three at the most.
Mamie probably fell asleep in Mama's arms. I sat quietly by the window observing the countryside as we rode along. I once said to Ma that I was a acute;good' girl. She replied that it wasn't so much that I was better behaved than the other two; I was just more afraid to try the things they did. Perhaps she was right.
Patsy was always more adventuresome. She had a natural curiosity and wanted to know what was going on. At any rate, she did wander away from Mama's side. A young man riding the train noticed Mama and the predicament she was in, traveling with three young girls. He took Patsy by the hand and led her back to Mama. He then politely asked if she minded if he rode with her as far as Beaumont. She had told him about Daddy being there to meet her. When she gave consent, he sat in the seat beside her, took Patsy on his lap and kept her occupied for the rest of the trip.
When we got to Beaumont, the young man got off the train, still holding Patsy. Daddy was there to meet all of us. Mama introduced the helpful Good Samaritan. Daddy thanked him for his kindness. Mama would tell the story and conclude by saying, "I don't know how I would have managed all the way to Beaumont if he hadn't come along."
While we were living in Beaumont, it became necessary for Mama to have major surgery of a female nature. When she was in the hospital, it was determined she would need a blood transfusion. Daddy was not the right type. Uncle Oran told them to take his blood type and if it matched, he would be glad to give blood for Mama. It did match. As Mama put it, "He rolled up his sleeve and they took blood from his arm and put it in mine." Another case of family caring enough to help.
Mamie mentioned earlier that I liked to read. That is true. There were five of us and even though I was the oldest daughter, I was the middle child. The two brothers were the first-born and only a year between them. They were close companions. My two sisters were born after me with only a year between them. They were close companions. There were two years between me on each side, two years younger than Leon, two years older than Patsy. My close companion became a book, any book. This probably added to the wrong conclusion I reached one summer. Two other factors contributed to the error of my thoughts.
Factor one: Oftentimes when we were sitting around talking, the conversation would turn to who favored whom. Favored in this sense meaning the person we looked like. It was immediately determined that Marion looked like Daddy, and Mamie was said to favor the Richardson side. Leon was often compared to either Fred or Buck, Mama's brothers. Patsy, it seems, took after the Evans side, notably Ruby or Rosie. Nothing was ever said about where my looks came from. I was not assigned to the Evans side. I was not assigned to the Richardson side.
Factor two: One of our favorite cousins was Leonard Evans. We all knew he was adopted. We all knew, that is, except Leonard. I often wondered what it would be like to discover the parents you had thought were your parents were not really your parents.
Conclusion: That is when I began to ponder the situation. Being by myself, reading a book, I had time to think. Since I didn't look like either side of the family, I must have been adopted. Now I didn't tell anyone of this conclusion. But it was there. I was sure, for a while, this was the only logical conclusion. I don't think it gave me a lot of concern. I still felt the same caring feeling. I never doubted Mama and Daddy loved me. It was just a fact in my mind. I was adopted.
Then one night we were washing our feet, getting ready for bed. Mama had washed hers and was sitting on the couch, bare feet exposed. I was sitting next to her. After I washed and dried my feet, we were sitting side by side on the couch, barefooted
Daddy came in, looked at us, and turned his head in that sideways fashion he had, with his chin jutting out. He had that sly grin on his face he always got when he was in a playful mood. "Just look at that," he said. "Did you ever see two sets of feet that were more alike?"
I looked down at my feet next to Mama's. By golly. He was right. My feet were duplicates for Mama's. The same squared off look, wide and thick. At last a resemblance! I belonged! I was Mama's child. I had her feet. I was not adopted!!!!!
I know now the reason I was never assigned to either side is that I have resemblance to both sides. Neither side is predominant. I am a combination of Richardson and Evans.
| Mamie: |
This is a tale of fear with a different twist. Do you remember going to the county fair in Marietta? Seems like we parked on a grassy area. The boys hopped out of the back of the truck and ran on their way, but we had to stay close to Daddy and Mama. We were walking through the midway; wanting to ride the carousel, when we heard a cry, "Step right up. Spin the wheel and win a prize." The dealers were luring people to their individual booths. Daddy paid to spin the wheel, and lost. After several spins, he could see the man behind the counter step on a pedal that made the wheel stop where he wanted it to, so that Daddy would lose. Daddy loudly accused the man of cheating, and was going to reach across the booth to get his money back. The security police were called. Daddy was escorted away from the booth. My fear was he was going to get into trouble and be put in jail. Too bad an exciting time for us had to have an unhappy ending. |
| Patsy: |
I remember the incident very well. I remember being scared Daddy was going to jail. I know it was a scary time in a child's life. |
| Virginia: |
It was a bad time. It illustrates, though, the honesty of our Dad. He would never have done anything dishonest to cheat someone out of money. That is why the carnival worker was able to take him in. Daddy thought the game was being run honestly, and was indignant when he discovered it was not. |
| Mamie: |
Another time I remember having the fear that Mama was going to die. It was the time she was being taken to the hospital. Seems as though a lot of family members were at our house. The word hospital was mentioned and death came to my mind. |
| Patsy: |
I also remember Mama being real sick and I do think it was said she might not make it. This, too, was a scary time. Was this the time they took her to the treatment center?
|
| Mamie: |
Jenalu, you are the oldest of the three girls. What do you say? You ought to remember the most.
|
| Virginia: |
The way I remember it was one of the doctors in Ringling prescribed a medication for Mama that caused her to have an adverse reaction. She did almost die. I am not sure, but it is possible she was at Pa and Ma's house. I don't know why she would have been there, but seems like that is where she was when she was so sick. I think the medication made her seem as if she had lost her reasoning. At any rate, she was put in some sort of treatment center in Paul's Valley just north of Ardmore. She had to stay there by herself for about two weeks. I remember we drove up once with Grandma to visit with her. She was brought from her room and we talked under some shade trees. It was so sad when we had to go home and leave her there. When Daddy got the bill from the doctor, he stated in no uncertain terms that he had no intention of paying a doctor to almost kill his wife. He said, "I'll show you what this is good for." And he took it with him the next time he went to the outhouse. Can't say that I blame him for that. |
| Patsy: |
Mama would always tell it that the man in the 'hospital' asked her to name her children and their ages. She could do it, and he said, "You've got more sense than the ones who sent you here." |
| Mamie: |
These are not pleasant memories but into every life a little rain must fall. We had our share of cloudy days mixed with bright days of sunshine. |
| Virginia: |
Mamie suggested the category of flowers as an assignment. Here goes. Patsy said in her write up that we grew up POOR. That was true. Yet, we never went hungry and we always had clothes and shoes to wear, even though they may not have been as expensive or fancy as others' clothes. But most of Orr was in the same boat. Not many people had any more than we did. At the end of my 8th grade studies, when it was time for graduation, our class wanted flowers for the stage. There was no money in the school budget for flowers. None of our parents could afford to buy flowers, even by pooling their resources. Mr. Hicks had noticed several yards in Orr with an array of flowers. On the day of graduation he allowed us to go throughout the neighborhood to try to accumulate some flowers for the stage. We went from door to door, asking each homeowner to contribute whatever was available from his yard. I am sure Tim Roberts contributed something because he always had something blooming in his yard. Mrs. Goins, I believe, contributed roses. Mrs. Cavins had some bridal wreath in bloom. We gathered what we could, found vases to hold them and placed them on the stage. We thought they were as pretty as any florist could provide. |
| Assignment: |
Submit any other remembrances you might have to add to the book. This is your final assignment. |
Each spring Daddy would order a shipment of baby chicks. When they were delivered to the Post Office, Daddy would bring home 100 Johnson white leghorn chicks. They were graded and guaranteed to be 90% female. We wanted hens to produce eggs for the table and for sale. The 10% that turned out to be roosters found their way to the dinner table on Sundays.
We those fuzzy, yellow chicks in the chicken house. We kept the self-feeders and water cans full so they could eat and drink when they wanted to. They soon grew and began putting on the white feathers of pullets and young roosters.
Eventually they performed the job they were designed to do. We gathered the eggs every evening. The chicken house was north of the house and to reach it you had to walk through a sandy field, which at one time served as Daddy's watermelon patch. Since we went barefooted most of the summer, and since the sand would be very hot, we chose our route to the chicken house very carefully, taking advantage of all the shady spots we could find.
One evening when we went into the hen house, we discovered a surprise. There on the nests was a long snake. We left there in a hurry, perhaps even hitting a few hot spots in the sand. We met Mama as she came around the house to see what we were hollering about. When we told her, she went with us back to the chicken house.
She entered the door, saw the snake, told us it was only a chicken snake and not poisonous. She took that snake by the tail, pulled him off the nest and out the door. She cracked that snake like a whip and killed it. That was the last egg it stole from our hen nests. We were amazed at Mama's calm ability to handle the problem.
| Patsy: |
The hens would sometime make a nest out in the woods and we always liked to hunt them. One time I was crawling between a rusty bob wire fence and cut my knee. I went back to the house and Mama poured kerosene on it. The main thing that was different back then from the way things are today, is how Mama handled the situation. While she was doctoring me, she told the tale about how she poured kerosene over Leon's toes when Marion accidentally chopped them off. Nowadays, you rush to the doctor and make sure you've had a tetanus shot. I never went to the doctor for it. I still have the scar from it. I don't think I ever found the hen nest that time! |
| Mamie: |
You know how we never had screen doors, so the chickens could come inside whenever they wanted to. Mama would always chase them out, telling them what she didn't want to happen while they were inside, if you know what I mean. We delighted in chasing them also, just to watch them scurry. One day a hen came inside and didn't leave fast enough when I shished her. She hopped out the door and I ran after her. When I got outside, I picked up a rock, threw it at her and hit her in the head. She immediately fell to the ground and started kicking. I watched in horror, thinking I had killed her. Much to my relief, she got to her feet and walked away, clucking as she went. |
This is the year 2000. Some look at it as the last year of a century, and a millennium. Technically, they are correct. Others view it with all the zeros as the beginning of a new century and millennium. I can see that point of view as well. Whichever way you believe it to be, it is a time to look back. It is a time to look forward.
Our grandparents came to Texas and Oklahoma in covered wagons; Grandma from Missouri, Pa and Ma from Arkansas. Our parents plowed their fields by walking behind a plow harnessed to a team of mules. Sorghum mills were powered by a team of mules walking around and around in a circle. They saw the Model T Ford replace the horse and buckboard as a means of travel. Their entertainment changed from a wind-up Victrola Phonograph to battery-powered radios. Our generation witnessed the coming of television, the development of air traffic, air-conditioned automobiles, electric phonographs that played 33 rpm albums. Our children saw the space age develop even to the point of putting a man on the moon. Our grandchildren are growing up with computers as a way of life, an everyday convenience. They do not know that skates were ever attached to the shoes using a key to make the adjustment, and that the four wheels were place at the four corners of the skate. To them the four wheels have always been in a straight line. Their music is on a little round disc called a CD and now DVD, which I cannot explain because I do not know what it is.
When our grandchildren read this book to their grandchildren, our modern conveniences will be as out-of-date as the horse and buggy. It is difficult to imagine the changes that will come. But change will come. We will be limited only if we lose our imagination.
It has been fun to correspond with Patsy and Mamie by way of e-mail to gather the stories for this book. One of the pleasures of growing up together is staying close even though we have gone our separate ways. Marion and Leon are both situated in Oklahoma. They work the home place together, raising a crop of winter wheat, running a few cattle. Patsy and Mamie live within blocks of each other in Azle, Texas. Their children went to school together. Their grandchildren attend that same school system together. I now live in the hill country west of Kerrville, Texas. My only son, Ronald, is building a house to be near us. Robbie and I have a small herd of goats. Even though miles separate the family, we stay close through use of e-mail, snail mail and telephone.
We try to get together at least once a year on Thanksgiving, more often if possible. We get Mama, who is now 89, from the nursing home in Ringling and take her to the home place. She enjoys sitting on the front porch, looking at the pecan trees, Marion's cattle, the grand kids and great-grand kids playing in the yard. We play "42" every time. What fun it is to see the sparkle in her eyes when she gets a good hand. Once, she even drew ALL the 6's. What amazing luck!
As Dolly Parton sang, "You are poor, only if you choose to be." We did not have monetary wealth, but we were rich beyond comparison.
