A Father's Legacy
Martin Vol. 5 (Continued from Vol. 4)
Do I Remember the First
Meals Your Mom Cooked For Me?
Would I Dare Comment On Them?
Yes & Yes, as follows: First of all you already know that I am one of those rare birds that has not found anything he does not like when it comes to food - Hey! I’m one of the few that even relished GI food at its worst. Frankly, I have no idea what the first meal or any other meal was that your Mother cooked up for me. I will just say that I am sure it was very good. However, I do recall a pie she baked for me because it tasted just like a Cape Jasmine (Gardenia) flower smells.
I had encountered the Cape Jasmine flower earlier over in Alabama and although we now were living in Houston, Texas I had witnessed their beauty again when we saw them blooming around the monument at the San Jacinto Battle Grounds. Well, anyway somehow she had mixed a few pears and peaches and maybe even other fruits, that were leftovers from previous meals, and the result was wonderful. Strange thing though, I could never get her to try to duplicate that prize. Frankly I would be surprised if she was sure just how she made it herself. Maybe that is how a masterpiece is suppose to be done.
Describe Where You and Mom Lived
After You Got Married.
What Was the View Like From the Kitchen Window?
After your Mother and I got married we decided that Houston would be a likely place to live since it was an industrial port city and was growing very fast. Walt Whitman wrote a poem entitled "Leaves of Grass" in which a part of it was labeled "I hear America Singing" and contained therein an impression of the vibrant growth of our Country.
Somehow when I read his lyric I associated it to what I had seen & heard in Houston. I believe it was reported that the population of Houston was around a half million people in 1946, but today it numbers several million in population. Anyway, just to be there it seemed that along with the usual city noises, you could hear an overwhelming sound of growth in construction. This had to be the very place to find opportunity in the field of commercial art.
Another factor we considered was, that it was equal distance to our individual original home base. [In other words we weren’t too close to either of our families]
After we were married I left Nita at Mobile and went back to Houston and then to Ardmore to take Pop's car back to him. I then went back to Houston, by train, to find a place to live but also to find a job. Nita was to come to Houston by Train when I got things arranged.
In the meantime her brother, Memp. came home, unannounced, from the South Pacific. Nita went to Mize to see him and be with her family. It would therefore be a week or so before she would be coming to Houston. It all worked out well because it provided me with a little more time to get things settled. I soon found a job with the Wetmore Advertising Company and had also rented a room that I hoped would be very temporary. I was having to ride the bus to get around town and when word came that Nita would be arriving on a certain train, my cousin Elzine Trimble and her husband, Vance, graciously offered to drive me to the Depot to pick her up.
Fortunately we were not long in locating an apartment, thanks to the efforts of another cousin, Rena who knew someone that had heard of a place that just may be available for rent in the near future. Elzine and Rena were two of the three daughters of my Aunt Flora - my mother's sister.
When Nita and I moved into the upstairs Apartment, which was approached by a back outside stairway, we felt comfortable but not entirely delighted with the neighborhood on East Alabama Street. We shared the kitchen and bathroom with another young couple and we got along fine with them. TheLandlady was Hispanic and did not generate a pleasant atmosphere even when she was her most gracious self.
The Kitchen window revealed a view to the South but there was nothing from there that offered much to see except an occasional bird that landed on the window sill and the sunshine that brightened up the room. We lived there for several months (i.e. until we moved to Oklahoma to enroll in Pharmacy School at Oklahoma University (Sept.13th, 1946)) .
When Did Your Mother & I Start Talking About Having Children?
We did not plan to start a family until we had completed College and a career was firmly established. I received my B.S. in Pharmacy, midterm 1949-1950. In Feb. I passed the Oklahoma State Board Pharmacy Examination. We soon moved to Ardmore from Oklahoma City and I starting working in my Daddy’s Drug Store (Martin Drug Co.) as a Pharmacist. The time was right, a goal had been met and the Birds were singing our song. The first born arrived in 1951. Now we were a family and God had blessed us again. That was just the beginning, for God blessed us two more times and now our family had five vibrant members. We did not have great material wealth but no one would dare say that we were not exceedingly wealthy.
***
(My wife, Nita).
***
My Ideas On What It Takes For A Husband & Wife To Maintain A Healthy Marriage
Most of all its Love and trust. It is most important to discuss things and arrive at an understanding whenever plans are being made that have an effect on the home or relationship. It is a wonderful thing if the couple have many things in common.
Try to never leave the presence of the other if you are still angry. Obviously it can be expected that you may still be upset about something and just clam up for a while, but never leave while you are "MAD". In like manner do not come home from the days trials, still upset over something that happened that day, and take it out on your mate.
Remember always that your happiness hinges on a healthy relationship and you must share your gains and losses with one another. Your marriage was entered into with an understanding that your union is that of a ‘couple’ that is to become ‘One.’
Someone once said that a successful marriage is not just two people looking at each other but rather, it is two people looking in the same direction. Henry Ward Beecher may have said it better when he stated that "The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother".
Trust in God & remember to follow Proverbs 3:6 "In all thy ways acknowledge Him,and He shall direct thy paths." (King James version ---- Him & He are capitalized by me)
***
Even though there were very few, if any restrictions on the sale of fireworks, it was not very often that much was being done around Ardmore. Most people could not afford to buy fire works except maybe a nickel package of fire-crackers. Therefore I just can’t recall ever getting too much entertainment at the Fourth-of-July celebrations other than the parades & picnics.
To ride around the country side in the automobile and occasionally stop at a creek and wade a little was exciting. There may have been some camping out because I vividly remember being out in the woods somewhere - Probably in Eastern Oklahoma when I was very young.
I believe we were camped out by a dry creek and while the adults were doing what adults do at such a setting, I was playing in the sand down in the creek bed and having a grand old time. Suddenly I was grabbed by my Daddy and lifted to safety because a great wall of water was coming down the creek, completely unannounced or expected and not at all welcomed.
Today we often read about this phenomenon and it often causes much damage and loss of life. My Mother could not swim but she loved to wade in shallow, running water. We were somewhere in the Arbuckle Mountains and wading in a beautiful clear stream of cool water when my Mother stepped into a deep hole and went under. The hole in the creek was not really very deep but after it all turned out okay she announced that she had been overcome by a giant whirlpool that sucked her under unmercifully, and had she not had great determination to overcome this dreadful hazard she would have been swept away.
I was a little tow-headed kid and I witnessed this whole episode because she was holding my hand - Her story was exciting alright but I never did figure out how it was that my hair did not get the least bit wet while this was happening. Can you figure it out?
No! I never traveled abroad but I have been out of the United States. I have been to Mexico and Canada. In 1939 my parents and my brother, Edgar & his wife Ola. And I had all loaded up in the new 1937 Plymouth (Deluxe) automobile and motored south, east and north on a vacation that took us along the gulf coast and north along the Atlantic coast and eventually to New York City and the World’s Fair.
The exposition was a most magnificent tribute to the great discoveries and developments that man had made. I saw how Television was about to become a reality and that space travel was being studied. I enjoyed it very much. At that very moment Hitler and his Nazi Germans were planning a great conquest that would slow down and virtually destroy the dreams of our civilized world. It is ironic however; that some of his tools of destruction would someday lead to knowledge that would be put to peaceful application that would be used to help mankind rather than to damage it.
This trip lead us to the beautiful Niagara Falls and ultimately across into Canada. While my family was off exploring the curio shops, I suppose, I ventured back to the car to wait for them. While I was standing there and just looking over the wall at the Falls a whole bevy of Police cars pulled up and surrounded me. They approached me with fire in their eyes and began searching me and ordering me to put my hands on top of the car, then finally one of the officers asked me where I was from. When I told them that I was from Oklahoma they knew that at least my accent was honest.
After a while, they apologized to me and explained that they obviously had the wrong person because the man they were looking for was reportedly older and would be all skinned up from a tavern brawl he had started. By the time my parents returned everything had dried out and I didn’t have to explain why my pants were wet. (Years later when Nita & our children went to Portland, Maine, we crossed into Canada at this same spot, while we were making a side trip from a legislative junket trip.)
While a student in Art School at Chicago, during the years 1940 thru 1942, I worked in various food service places. Believe it or not there was no such thing as a ‘Fast Food’ restaurant back then. I worked as a soda Jerk at the Lawson YMCA Hotel, on Chicago Ave. but usually I worked as a Busboy at Hotels or Cafeterias. It was while I was working at the Harmony Cafeteria on South Wabash Street, that I became acquainted with a very interesting man. He was the Head Chef, but I don’t remember his name.
I was 20 years old and he was probably 45 or 50 years of age. We visited from time to time and for some reason he seemed to like me and was very kind to me, he would tell me what he thought about life and what it had meant to him. He did not profess to be a Christian and for that matter he did not seem to have a knowledge of a divine being. He did not say he was an atheist, he said he attended church quite often but it was the music that he enjoyed. He did not drink or indulge in worldly things, but if he had an affair with a woman it was strictly a one-time stand. Eventually he admitted to me that he was in this country illegally and that he had escaped from his native land, that was somewhere in South America and perhaps in the Amazon region. He would not tell me where it was because, he said, if I should ever venture into that region I would never leave there alive.
He told me that the fresh water streams were laden with diamonds but no one was ever permitted to gather them up, and no one of the tribes were ever allowed to leave the country. He said he had a wife and several children back there that he would never see again because he could not return. The reason he escaped from his people was because he was accused of trying to smuggle the diamonds out of the area and take his family with him.
He would not say how he ever found out there was a world outside of their domain. It’s possible the old man was telling me a wild story but I bought it 100 % and even if it was all fluff I still find it believable because even through these years we still read about some lost tribe being found in the so called ‘rain forest’.
I have already visited this subject but I should say that in today’s vernacular I would simply respond by saying that it gave me an opportunity to "find out who I was." Just take note that if you add 3 or 4 years to the life of a young man, even in peace time, he is obviously going to experience some change in his life. To be subjected in that time to a regimented life style, it can change your sense of values - I think in my case, I just grew 3 ½ years older.
Of Course Not! However, I do recall being brought on board by an incident that happened at the Oklahoma State Capitol. There was a time when the Capitol was never closed to the public and therefore was accessible at about any time of the day or night. That was in the days before public demonstrations got completely out of hand. Before long there got to be vandalizing of property in the Capitol and the mysterious disappearance of property.
One Monday morning, hours before the flags were raised on the Capitol grounds, some apparent militant group saw fit to run the so called "Black Liberation" flag up the pole that was reserved for the U.S. Flag. It was an obvious show of defiance and expression of contempt for our Country and our Flag. The Capitol police force was practically non-existent at that time, because there had been no real need for them. We did have a small "security force" which consisted of older, already retired, former state employees.
On this morning, soon there were hundreds of blacks congregating around the pole and defying anyone to attempt to take there Ugly Fisted Rag down from the pole.
When I looked out my office window that Monday morning and saw this commotion, I ran down the hall and encountered the Highway Patrol Commander and asked him why they did not do something or call out the National Guard – His reply was they did not have the authority to do anything without Governor Hall giving them the orders.
In the meantime, Senators Cleta John Rogers and George Hargrave had procured a flag from the Board of Affairs office and had started down the Grand Stairway toward the flag pole to replace that "rag" with the American Flag. I ran to join them and arrived at the flag pole just as they got there. The demonstrators were cursing us, daring us and threatening us as we proceeded to lower their Fisted Rag. As we were raising the U.S. Flag they kept shouting obscenities and saying "That’s not our flag, that’s yo flag".
I remember as the three of us were facing off with them that Cleta John spoke up in a clear and precise tone when he stated "Yes this is our flag and it is the authority that this flag represents that gives you the privilege to denounce it’.
I was proud to stand and be counted with these two men and was somehow mystified that we had come through this ordeal without a scratch. Soon the mob began to dissipate and the News Media with their Cameras surrounded us to interview us. Obviously, we were feeling good about our bravery but then that was because we had not realized that the Highway Patrol Officers had formed a line about 25 feet behind us and prepared to use force if necessary.
Today the Capitol is guarded by competent Capitol Police, the doors are locked after hours, and every part of the building is monitored by surveillance cameras. These kind of demonstrators have managed to take a little more freedom from the citizens of our great nation. I’m sorry to say that it seems that our very court system has managed to do its share of demoralizing our people also. And yet GOD still continues to bless us in spite of ourselves. [Today: Senators Rogers and Hargrave are deceased]
It was probably about 1936 when Joe Curtis and I chose the windiest day of the year, it seems, but we decided we would climb on top of the water Stand Pipe which is located on old HW 77 at the north edge of Ardmore.
The walk around the top of the tower was made of boards and I must say, they were not totally sound. I was wearing an old floppy hat and decided to see how far it would sail in the brisk south wind if I tossed it out. Do you know were the Wonder Bread Store is located? The hat hit the ground somewhere about there, although at that time it was all open prairie and that was years even before Veterans Blvd.(Truck By-pass) was thought of. I sure am glad we didn’t get any publicity about that.
I am a registered democrat and always have been. I do not agree with much of today’s liberal philosophy that the democratic party subscribes to. I do not subscribe to the ultra conservative doctrine of the Republican party. I can not accept the Independent Parties teachings either because they are not clear on just where they stand. I am pro-life, anti-abortion, anti-gambling, antigay-rights, politically Dry and personally Dry, Anti-same-sex marriages, and I’m probably Politically Middle-of-the-road, and could be clearly defined as being a Conservative, Liberal, Moderately Independent believer in God & Country.And may GOD continue to Bless our Country although we have come up short and lacking in our faith.
The untimely death of my dear brother, Calvin, was one of the lowest points of my life. Calvin was murdered in cold blood on Sept. 2, 1949 by 6 shots from a 38 Cal. Police Special pistol. Five shots to the back and one fired point blank into his forehead after he fell to the pavement. He was murdered by one J.R. Hamilton. Our family was totally devastated and even to this day, some 49 years later, I find it most difficult to talk about it. At this time I will say no more.
Many years ago I watched a movie by the name of ‘Lost Horizon’ and it was about a lost civilization and a city known as Shangri-La. I remember the star of the show was Ronald Coleman and I know of no actor of that day that would have been more suited for the part than he was. I will not attempt to tell the story but if you want to see a genuine old black and white movie that is out of this world, look it up, perhaps it is available on a video tape. Think of Utopia and you will understand Shangri-La as told in The Lost Horizon. [In historical significance think of Tibet]
"Anything worth doing is worth doing right"… Another….. "There is only one way to do a joy - the right way"…And another…. "When you chop those weeds, hit them with that hoe like you are mad at them"… And still… "There is no difference between a thief and a liar because a thief will always lie"… Here’s one that is not really a saying but is something you could always expect…… Pop never started a project in the afternoon that he would not finish before dark. Then "If you eat greasy food, follow it with honey."
No, I did not belong to the Boy Scouts, which is one of my regrets.
My favorite poem has always been ‘Annabel Lee’ by Edgar Allan Poe. My favorite passage of writing, other than many from the Bible, is the one I remember that Mrs. Madden had painted on her black board in her English-Literature class. "Language is the dress of thought, every time you speak your mind is on parade." Then there is the quote from my Mother that has become a family classic, to wit, "He doesn’t have any sense and always was."
Yes, The King James Version of the Bible does it all. I Believe it is the inspired word of God.
Planting and watching things grow. I wonder how anyone can observe the wonderful things in nature without acknowledging that it is truly the handy work of the Lord. However; it has been said that Luther Burbank the great American horticulturist did not believe in a life hereafter. I find it most difficult to understand how he could be so oblivious to the knowledge of God’s creation and His assurance of a life hereafter.
When I was young I accepted what I learned about God. I did not attempt to understand what I knew to be true. Today I accept what I know to be true but now I attempt to understand these great mysteries.
I learned to ride a bicycle long before I owned one myself. It was really a piece of junk that Calvin had pieced together. It had no brakes, the handlebars were too far apart and the thing was about 2 sizes bigger than I should try to learn on. When I started in trying to learn I would fall, but nobody was there to help me up because I had to sneak around to even get on the thing. I was probably 7 years old at the time but I learned to ride the critter and everyone seemed amazed at how I just mounted it and rode off the first time I got on it. (little did they know).
Learning to roller skate was no big challenge even if you did fall down a little. Roller skating was done on the side walks which were quite common back in those days, in fact you could skate all the way to town from 12th. Ave. N.W. to Main Street. The skates we had then had to clamp on your shoe sole and a strap fastened to your ankle. It was a dreadful thing when one or maybe two of the skates became unfastened.
Water skiing was a bit different and came many years later. I watched people skim gracefully over the surface of the lake while being pulled by a powerful boat. It did not look especially difficult so one day while on the lake with some friends I was challenged to give it a try. I was not dressed in a bathing suit but so-what I thought - And I jumped right in the water with my clothes on. When I grabbed the rope I soon realized that wet clothes were somewhat heavy but I did manage to rise up to the surface and glide right along like a pro. It was when I released the rope that I discovered I was in trouble. My wet clothes were so heavy, along with my own exceptionally muscular body that the floating device I was wearing did not have enough buoyancy to hold me up. From then on I wore a bathing suit when skiing, but that was only because I had not drowned the first time and I had learned better than to go in with my clothes on.
***
To begin with I would like to have you revert to Mart Vol. 2 and Mart Vol. 3 for material that will reveal some information concerning this subject. It was sometime around 1937 that my sister, Ruthelle (Susan) and her husband, Dewitt Heartsill decided to return to the old Heartsill Home Place out in the Lone Grove area. The old farm had been settled sometime before Dewitt’s Dad purchased the place and that had been many years ago.
When Mr. & Mrs. Heartsill moved their family to Ardmore they had rented the place out to various families but none of them stayed a long time so far as I know. The old house, which was a typical house for its day was complete with lightning rods and weather vanes. It faced the North and was located some 700 feet to the end of a tree lined, single wide lane all the way to the top of the hill. The house was well constructed but was a box house which made it difficult to warm in the winter, although it did have a fire place and a wood burning stove. There was no electricity, running water or indoor plumbing. The necessary House (out-door privy) was located about 100 yds.S.E. of the house and was reached by following a well worn path.
The ceilings of the house were probably 10 feet high and each door had a transom above it that could be opened in the summer time to assist the circulation of natural air. There was a front porch that gave the house a picturesque appearance and there was a porch on the East side also. The fireplace was on the East wall of the living room which seemed even larger because it opened by way of a double doorway into the original dining room. A door on the east wall of this room gave access to the east porch. The old crank type, battery powered, telephone was attached to the wall in that room. We knew the phone call was for our number if the phone rang 2 shorts and three longs (P-1, 5—5--5).
The little family owned telephone Co. Lone Grove could hardly make any money on their operation at the time. The equipment was not too good and the telephone wire that barely reached its various destinations often dragged the ground because the post oak posts had broken over. There was very little maintenance performed on the lines and the reception was not very good. Today that same Company, known as the Chickasaw Telephone Company covers much of this region and has expanded into other Counties to become a major telephone network. It still remains a private concern and with a member of the family still pretty much in control.
The mailing address was Rt. 2 Box 44 - Ardmore, Oklahoma and was delivered by the rural mail carrier. At that time, the rural mail carrier did not have the wonderful all weather roads he has today - In fact the roads were often impassable in rainy weather and mail could be a day or so late before it was delivered. The roads were very narrow because that was before the old fence lines were cleared out and the roads improved.
A sad thing happened though when the roads were updated - We lost the big trees that bowed out over the trails to form a canopy, or covered way much like an arcade. Back then you may walk for a long way without ever leaving the shady roadway but this was just another of the pristine charms we enjoyed without realizing it. Delivery of mail in the country was one time a day but if you lived in the City of Ardmore your postman always delivered mail twice a day. Over in Lone Grove, population 510, you received no delivery but received your mail from a designated post office box or just plain general-delivery.
We used coal oil lamps to see by at night and we used coal oil lanterns to feel our way around-by, when milking cows, before daylight at the barn. *(Coal Oil is Kerosene).
The next room on the east side of the house joined the dining room to the south and was partitioned off for privacy, because it was used as a bedroom. When you came in the front door, going south through a hall-way there was a door to your left (transom above) that opened into the living room and on your right there was the same type of door that opened into a large bedroom at the NW portion of the house. The hallway then led you into the long kitchen area which ran east and west. The kitchen was equipped with the usual wood burning stove, shelves, a kitchen counter with a pitcher pump mounted thereon to furnished water from the cistern located immediately below the flooring of the kitchen.
There was only one water well on the place and it was located way down by the barn; therefore the cistern had been built to catch rain water from the roof of the house. The water from the cistern was soft but sometimes had wiggle tails (Mosquito larva) in it to be strained away, but it was ok I guess. At least I never heard of any one contracting Typhoid fever from drinking its water. Later we hand dug a well about 60 feet deep to bring water closer to the house. Much of the digging was accomplished by blasting through the sand stone with dynamite - the process took about a year but afterwards we rigged up a couple of vinegar barrels on a platform in a twin oak tree and pumped water into them by way of a one-lung gasoline engine. A rudimentary running water system was developed and water was piped into the kitchen as well as the well house, several hundred feet south down by the barn.
Immediately South of the kitchen area there was a small screened in back porch that led out into the back yard. We had no storm cellar but many years later after the farm changed ownership and the house was torn down the old cistern was converted into a cellar. The yard all around the old house was occupied by large Oak trees, many of which are still living today, some 60 years after my brief time on the place.
There is much more to tell but right here I want to say that I dearly loved that old place back then, but when I go there now, I leave heart broken, because it has so little left of its past - except the wonderful trees. When the lane reached the house the drive-way veered to the right and ultimately ended down at the old barn, where the loft was loaded down with bailed hay in the Summer time to be used throughout the year, but especially during the Winter when the pasture was practically bare of vegetation.
The Old Barn was probably the same age as the house and therefore was leaning a little to the south. There was a milking shed appended to the north side of the barn which held two rows of cow stalls and each held about 6 Cows. This enabled us to turn in a dozen cows at a time to be fastened in their individual places and I should add that each cow knew exactly where she was to go to be fed and milked. The cows usually had cockle burrs in their tail which hurt like the dickens when they slapped the milker across the face - Therefore you can be sure that we always had a piece of bailing wire tied to a nearby post to tie the wanton tail to.
Traditionally the actual process of milking is done on the right side of a cow, this may have been because it left the right arm free and you used your left arm to block a sudden unexpected kick from the cow. Milking was done twice a day and it was all done manually since we had no electricity to run a milking machine, which we could not afford to buy anyway. We milked around 20 to 23 cows each session, depending on how many cows were producing milk at the time. We milked as much as the cow would produce and never left any milk in her bag because this tended to reduce the productivity of the cow overall. The daily milking usually started about 4 O’Clock in the morning and around 6 O’Clock in the evening. In the summer time we would get the cows up from the pasture about the middle of the afternoon in order to have them stand in the lot at least two hours before milking.
Dewitt, by observation, had discovered that the morning milk was never bitter even though the cows had grazed in bitter weeds the day before. He thought it may be logical to try the above mentioned method for the evening milking and observe the results. The trial run was a great success and subsequently adopted and implemented into our regular regimen. We grazed the cattle over on the leased land which was located across the road (Stobtown road/Meridian lane) west of the farm. This area consisted of about a half section of native grass and was blessed with having a good spring located on it.
Getting the cows up in the middle of a hot summer afternoon could be a tough job because when its pretty hot the cows will find a shady spot and just stand there. We had a lead cow (Old Pet) that wore a *brass bell and usually the other cows would be close to where she was. Problem was, when it was hot & windy she might just stand there without moving enough to make the bell ring. Then another problem existed because we had a cow (Old Janie) that was not too sociable with the others, and may be lying down, under a shade tree, all by herself, a quarter mile away.
*[I have the brass bell hanging on our car port.]
In the winter time, when it was cold & wet, the cows, with their tawny coats, were kept in the lot and fed hay while they stood protected under the shed that ran west from the west end of the barn. You can appreciate the fact that the manure and hay settled into pretty thick layers as a result of this system and this amazing, unyielding mixture, had to be forked up and placed in piles to be spread on the fields when it dried up enough. This made great natural fertilizer but after it had mellowed for a long time it was a real delight to lift the mess from its place and receive a genuine whiff of natural ammonia of maybe even 28 % strength.
When we finished milking a cow we would pour the milk into a 5 or 10 gallon milk can that we had setting in a tub of cool well water. The milk was poured through a strainer to remove any impurities that may have accidentally fallen into the bucket. This worked for most things that fell in the milk except maybe a few liquid splatters now and then. When the cans were filled we carried them to the milk house where the milk was further cooled and later poured into bottles.
The bottle cap, which was made of waxed pasteboard, was imprinted with ‘Grade A Milk’ on it top. The bottles of milk were then placed in old fashioned ice boxes that had been originally designed to accommodate soda pop bottles and were then followed by a good icing down with chipped ice. My sister, Ruthelle, was the chief bottle washer and she always had the bottles ready for the milk. The bottled milk was then placed in apple boxes and loaded into whatever vehicle we had at the time. The milk was then ready to be delivered to various homes and to several restaurants and grocery stores in Ardmore. It was my job to make the milk deliveries and be on time at school by 8 A.M. each morning.
In the summer, I carried the route, picked up the feed, empty bottles and other items and hurried back to the farm in time to get the cows up, hitch the trailer to the vehicle and go to the hay meadow where Dewitt and his baling crew were baling hay with his old worn out hay baler. The trailer would carry 40 bales of hay which I then delivered to the barn and heaved the bales into the hay loft. Sometime I could carry two loads before it was time to start the milking.
The hay crew would shut down a little before dark and by then I had pretty well finished the milking chores. My usual required time to milk a cow was 3 minutes. It was a tough schedule but I loved it. Sometimes Dewitt would pay me a little, which he could not afford, and the amount was about 3 dollars a week, when he did. He also furnished me with Golden Grain or Bull Durham smoking tobacco as a bonus. (we used proper disinfectant & the strainer used special paper filters.)
We had a team of mules that went with the place I suppose because they were there the first time I went to the farm. I was told that they once had a very gentle old mare that was as much a family pet as a beast of labor. I never saw old Bess but I sure did see the team of mules, Kit was the big mule and Babe was the smaller one but they worked together like a "team of mules". When the mules were not being used to do a job they were turned out into the pasture and after they had tasted freedom for a while it could be difficult to get them back to the lot. Sometimes it took a lot of running and heading off to get them started toward the barn but about the time you thought they were headed in, they would spin on their back legs and head for the cross timbers.
I had gotten a little weary of going after the cows on foot and now that I had learned the tactics of the Mules I began to yearn for a horse to ride. I still possessed the bicycle I had bought when I had the paper route and I wondered if it had value enough to use in a trade for a cow pony. After consulting Dewitt he seemed to think he knew the right person to help locate a good riding pony and make a deal with him for me.
The result was the acquisition of a most favorable little buckskin mare that could run like the wind, I named her Lady. She was a quarter horse alright but we clocked her running 45 miles an hour behind a pickup truck with me riding her bare back. She was pretty much a one-man horse. It soon became obvious that I was her man because the first time anyone else got on her she would run away with them. I learned that the first time I got on her when she ran away with me completely out of control. I bailed off of her when she headed for a gully but when I got up she came running up to me and placed her head on my shoulder.
Thereafter if the Mules decided to run for the woods she would take off after them with me on board and could weave in and out of the brush without scrubbing me off. After she caught up with them she would bite them on the rump and the race would be over.
Anyone that has ever been around milk stock know that you should never run a milk cow. Lady seemed to realize that fact also, so if a cow was kinda reluctant to move forward or stop and graze along the way she would give them a gentle nudge to make them move along. I think I would have been content to remain on the old farm but it was obvious that this could not happen.
After I graduated from High School I had to decide what I wanted to do with my future. As you know, from previous writings, I chose to attend Commercial Art School in Chicago, Ill. The following September (1940) I went to Chicago and therefore only had brief respites to go back to the farm. This would usually be in the summer seasons. And since a school year at the American Academy of Art consisted of 10 months, there was virtually no time to fall back into a routine anywhere similar to what I had experienced before.
After completing the two year tour at the school, I returned to Ardmore in late July (1942) but by September of that year I was enlisted in the Army Air Corps. Other than very brief visits I lost almost complete contact with the farm except on short passes or furloughs. It was a very short time later that my sister and brother- in-law sold out and moved to town.
The War was raging and having a profound effect on the civilians as well as the military. Small independent operations could not survive, due to lack of availability of man power and the rising cost of supplies.The rural community was especially hard hit and many people removed to large industrial sites to work for defense plants. The world as we knew it was to never return. An era of close family ties was replaced by families being scattered across the land. Many families lost loved ones to battle. The War that started for our country on Dec. 7th. 1941 officially ended in Aug. 1945. Since that time, a state of emergency has never been resolved even to this date, 1998.
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New Zealand because it seems to be so far removed from the routine that prevails across the world and because from its pictures it must be very beautiful. I have no childhood fears that haunt me. I don’t recall having any great fear. Perhaps there was a dread I experienced and that was the knowledge that someday we would have loved ones to die. Since my soul was saved at an early age I lost that dread because I knew there is eternal life for those that trust in Jesus Christ and believe what God has revealed to us through his scriptures.
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