Bessie and Earl’s Story

 

Bessie and Earl’s Story

Bessie Lee and Archie

1. The Olsons and Grandpa George

Bessie: My Grandma Pounds--her name was Olson-- they grew up north of Tryon. When they come from the old country, why they landed, and there's where they stopped and they homesteaded there. When my Daddy died, Uncle Hank took Archie and some of us up there--he knew right where the old homestead was. We went to the cemetery where Grandma Pounds was buried. Uncle Hank knew right where to go, and so he was the guide. And we went to the old farm where they had homesteaded. There was a river that run through it, and I kinda think that was the Canadian River but I wouldn't say. But it's up in that area.

My Grandpa Pounds came from Missoura. We never knew what part of Missoura he came from, or whether he had any brothers or sisters. I never heard him mention a one, and there wasn't a one that ever contacted him through the years. I never heard Daddy mention it, and when he passed away, there was never nothin said. He might have been an orphan too. He never talked about his father or mother--never heard him say anything about them, and I was with Grandpa a lot. I don't know. There was several orphans in that day and time.

Yes, he was borned in Missoura. But he was one of these guys always runnin around. He liked to dance, and he liked to cook. He use to be a chef in a cafe out there near Tulsa even. He was out there a while. That was after of course Grandma was gone. But, see, Grandpa lived with Earl and I until he passed away. Oh, he thought he had to live with me. He said you're just like Grandma Pounds--like Bertha.20 And so [laughs] he wanted to live with Earl and I, and so he actually even died in our home. There was no hospitals, no nothin there, you know. And so we cared for him around the clock, a group of us. We were livin then right there in our house that we bought in Chandler, the old big house across from the school house--where Daddy and Mama lived.

I don't know rightly how Grandpa Pounds supported himself. He lived with the kids, got a li'l old pension on the last. I don't know how. He got eleven dollars a month and he give me the biggest part of that every month--to keep him. Because he just wanted to live with Earl and I. It wasn't a veteran's pension because he never was a veteran. I just don't know how he got it--some kind of welfare? It's been about fifty years ago--you suppose he got it because he was crippled? See, he was on crutches. He couldn't walk well. Earl'd take him up town when he'd go to work and pick him up when he come back. He sat around the benches around the courthouse all day and shoot the bull, yap-yap- yap.

I don't think Grandpa Pounds every bothered anyone much. He wasn't snotty with people like Grandpa Stidham was. Earl'd come in from work and here he'd be ready to play cards, and you just don't beat him. If we beat him he'd get mad and said we was cheatin him. He'd say to Earl, "You and Bessie just play for each other, you don't play for me at all," and he'd just throw the cards away. Well, that'd be a good excuse, so we just quit. He never was gonna play us any more. But next day Earl come in from work right there he was, right there ready for it, yeah. Poor old fellow, he really loved to play cards.

Pitch was a popular game--Glenn Goble loved to play it--and they just played pitch pitch pitch, and dear Daddy he'd get so upset you know when he'd get beat. He'd say, "I'm not goin to play anymore, now, that's the end of them cards," and he'd go out and he'd sit under the little shade tree we had out there, you know. The next game, just before it would start, he'd come in and say, "Now count me in this time!"

Earl: Ah man, he'd just go into spasms. He'd really get mad to, accuse you of stealin, cheatin, I don't know what all. Sometimes he'd take the cards and just throw them all over the place. I said, "Why do you want to do a thing like that?" [laughs]. I said, "the only thing I know to do is just not pay any attention to him.” Bessie said, "I guess so." He'd have them fits and throw them cards, and I'd go on about doin something else. I'd come back in and he'd have them picked up, maybe cooled off and wantin to play again, you know. He really loved to play them cards. Melvin used to be a little bit like that. I've seen him just get ahold of a card like that and just [makes a tearing gesture]..., you know, have one of them spells. [laughs] I call them little George spells. George Pounds. He was a pretty good ol' fellow, though. He walked on crutches most of the time, and a lot of time I'd go to work, I'd take him up to town there in Chandler. He'd hang around--he knew everybody, you know--and visit with them around the courthouse. If he wanted to then I'd take him home at noon, or he'd stay till evening till I got off of work, ever what he wanted to do. It was a little too far--it'd been about a block and a half or two blocks maybe to walk back down to the house. He couldn't do that. His legs just wouldn't hold him. He was a pretty good ol' fellow though. You'd like to have had time with him.

2. The Children of Grandpa George

Grandpa George had eight children when his wife died. He didn't want the responsibility of raisin the children he had brought into this world, so he offered them out for adoption. My dad, Uncle Hank, Uncle Jim did not want to go into an adopted home. Neither did Aunt Amanda, so they went out into the world together. They worked for other farmers, most of the time sleepin in the hay barn, eatin whatever the people gave them.

My Daddy was the oldest, he was almost thirteen. I'm not sure I can name them all, because the adopted ones I don't know. There's Daddy, and then there's Uncle Hank, Uncle Jim, Aunt Amanda, Aunt Arlie, and Aunt Ardath, and Uncle Jack, and Uncle Keith.

And seem to me like there was a John in the bunch but now I don't know. Let's see--who was it was the musician? That was Jack. He traveled all time and he was a professional. He had a different last name, but, you see, I don't know none of their last names. A family right there in Chandler --the Stanfields21--raised the twin girls.

My dad would not go out for adoption, and him and Uncle Jim and Uncle Hank and Aunt Amanda stayed together, and they just went to a farm house and they would sleep you know wherever they could-- sometimes it was in the barn, sometimes they had a place at the house. They worked for them, done whatever that was to be done, and they eat whatever you know they gave them. And that's the way they grew up. They were the four oldest and they stayed together: Daddy's first, then Uncle Hank, then Uncle Jim, then Aunt Amanda.

Yeah, Daddy was the oldest. And of course, I guess I was kind of partial, always thought he was the best lookin one . Some of them I never seen so I don't know. When my Grandma Pounds died they were livin in Tryon22, and she's buried in Tryon. She died in childbirth, her and the baby both buried up there in Tryon. So that would have made nine, had that one lived. She's in that real old cemetery up there. I have been to her grave.

3. The Stidhams

My daddy grew up in Lincoln County then, and that's where he met mother. And you know, Grandpa, her dad, he was just a cranky old bear--excuse my expression--and I didn't like him. He'd say to one of us kids, "Sit down over there, feisty! That's all you do is wiggle and move. If you're not in one room you're in the other one. Sit down!" And I could just cracked his head. In fact, I would never have gone there if it hadn't a-been for my grandmother. I loved her dearly. And of course you know there was three of them girls, Mother's sisters, younger than me. And so there was someone to play with. But I didn't like Grandpa, and I don't care who knows it. I'm not goin to story about it. Cause Grandpa was just hateful, just I mean hateful, and he treated my grandmother like she was a dog.

I don't know why he was so mean. He was just an old bulldog, that's the phrase I would rather use. But boy he got paid back. When Grandma died he couldn't wait until he could find another woman. And he offered to buy Melvin's wife a new dress if she would make a date with so-and-so, you know. Well, they wouldn't any of the women date him. Anybody that knew him wouldn't have anything to do with him.

He married, in about four months after Grandma died, and he married a woman that lived up the street from him a ways that had lost her husband, and her name was Bessie. She was as mean to him as they come, and it didn't bother me a bit. She just slapped him when she got ready. He could only talk on the telephone if she said so. Even if his own children would call, she'd answer the phone and say, "No, no, you can't talk to him-- no, no, your father's busy." He'd ask, "Who called?" and she'd say, "None of your business." And then if he got smart with her, she just give him a good slappin.

Then she'd already got the will fixed, you see. She was goin to get everything, all of Grandma's things and the property--and what little Grandpa had. Then about ...I don't know at what stage in the game, but he was down and had this leg and couldn't get up and she walked off and left him. Uncle Emmett found him about the third day--he went over to see about him. So they moved in and took care of him until he died. But I said, "Well thank God he got just a little of it paid back." You may think I'm cruel, but it's just the way I felt, and I can't help it. And I told some of Mother's sisters that. I said, "the way he treated my grandmother. He never liked my dad, never cared nothin about him. He told lies on Daddy."

Why was that? Oh, he just had a big mouth. And I used to go with a boy--he was kin to Uncle Jessie and Uncle George--and you know Grandpa wouldn't speak to me. No way. Oh, no. And he told mother, "You're just crazy that you let that girl date. But Mother didn't pay any attention to him. And then I met Earl, and he just eat Earl up with both arms: "Oh come and go home with us for dinner," and he'd have Earl down at the barn with him just feedin him the biggest line. And you know what he did? Grandma was milking, and that lazy hound was standin there and so he lifted up the cow's tail and said to Earl and his brother Garl, "if you want any butter why this is where you get it." And he said, "I have to stand here and keep the flies off of her while she milks." Now I don't call that a whole lot of character. She had to have the feed in the troughs for the teams when they come in. He always had a bunch of hired men. She had to cook for 'em and wash for 'em and give 'em a place to sleep.

Grandma was a little angel, but I'm goin to tell you one thing. She also had a head of her own. And she come very near killin the old man once, and they wouldn't a been a whole lot gone if she had've. Because she caught him in a very immoral act. With her sister. I don't tell everybody this, but I'm goin to tell you all I know. Because the rest of them, a lot of them don't know it. But I don't have respect for him. I just can't. My other grandfather wasn't anything to brag about, but he sure wasn't cheap like that.

Poor Grandma. I'd go with her lots of time, you see, because she'd work and save money, and she hid this money in a fruit jar. So I'd get to go with Grandma to the fruit jar wherever it was buried, and so I knew, you know, where she put her money all the time. Well Grandma build up a pretty good bunch of money, then Grandpa'd find out about it, and he'd go buy him a new car. He was the only one in the county that had a new car. Or he'd take a trip on a train. He come to California. He went down south, he went here, he went there. She had to stay at home and work all this time. Then I learned somethin the last time I was back home when Aunt Mae was alive. Me and Aunt Mae and Minnie and Gladys had dinner

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together--we were the only ones that were there. Aunt Mae cooked dinner for us, so we discussed a lot of things that day. They knew all of this, that when their dad when off like that he was just off runnin around--he had other women. They told me that day--course Grandma was gone then--that Grandma said "I have just only one prayer, that the good Lord will spare me until these girls are married." She had Girtie and Gladys and Minnie at home--and she didn't know it but Minnie was already married. Minnie was married two years and they didn't know it. She said, "When these girls the last one is married I don't want to live another day longer. My work is done, and I have a better place to go to." And she died shortly after that.

It's as though she gave up. Yes, she gave up and that was her wish and her prayer. She said, "I just worked..." She had asthma, and she'd choke and she'd smoke that old stone pipe with somethin in it for her asthma. Yes, she smoked a stone pipe-- for her asthma, because she choked. She had asthma awful bad. But she had eight kids and not one kid smoked or chewed tobacco, and her and Grandpa both used it. She smoked another pipe you know too. But she had the old stone pipe--I remember that. Most women didn't smoke at all then no, but the older ones smoked pipes. They smoked but you didn't know it.. Earl's step-grandmother had an old stone pipe, and it laid up on top the chimney, you know. She smoked at the fire place--she smoked her everyday.

Grandma Stidham had a .22 rifle of her own, and she could use it. She told Grandpa, "it'd just take me one second and I'd just blow both of your brains out right there." And another thing one time [laughs] --it was funny. She was a little thing. Just about my height and build, and she was just tiny, little hands.

Anyway, she had this little rifle, and it was at the house. And so this one family came down the road, and they had pecan trees, Grandma and Grandpa did, along the road you know, and this family had about sixteen kids, and they come prepared to gather pecans along the way. So they was pickin up their pecans and Grandma seen'em. Grandma said, "You'd better leave!" Well, they didn't pay much attention to Grandma. She said, "I'm goin to the house to get my gun and you'd better be gone when I get back or you'll be gone." And she went to the house and got her little .22, and when she got back they was gone. She knew how to use it. I used to fish with her a lot. She liked to fish. But she knew how to use that gun.

Grandma came from Kentucky-- yeah, her and Grandpa married in Kentucky. Mother was borned in Kentucky. That's right, they came to Oklahoma in a covered wagon. Her maiden name was Robinson. Grandma was just a little thing, just little and tiny. She had real dark eyes. Mother you know was blue-eyed, and they's only one girl that really looks like her and that's Minnie. If you go look at Minnie you've seen Grandma. She looks just like her. The only one. And she had twins. So Daddy had twin sisters and Mother had twin sisters--Girtie and Gladys.

Last time Earl and I was in Chandler we saw Gladys and Glenn [Goble]. He was on a walker. You know that was the strangest thing. Gladys was about twelve year old or thirteen and she had pneumonia, and I never thought nothin about it at the time--Glenn was a man grown and then some--and he come over there every day and asked how Gladys was. What is the difference in their ages? So the next thing we knew he was comin over visitin with her. Well, Grandpa thought that was just great. Another one of his little tricks, because he thought, "Oh the Gobles have got money," you see. That's somethin else. So he would buy candy after they got married and had their baby, and he'd hide that until he could get a chance to give it to them. Uncle Emmett's children would come up there and they'd see the candy and they'd say, "Grandpa can I have a piece of candy?" "No, that's for Lyndon." That's the way Grandpa done. then he'd slip that bag of candy to Lyndon because his name was Goble.

Then look how he treated my daddy. He and Mother never had one date together. They courted one year, and Daddy had to come to the house and they had to go into the livin room where Grandpa could come in and sit with them, and he sit right there with them, and the only time they was ever by themselves was the day after they got their license. They rode to town together by theirself in Daddy's buggy. That's just the kind of a man he was.

Of course some of that was just the times, because courtin was different then. But he let Aunt Sarah go anywhere she wanted to go. Her and Uncle Jessie could crawl in the buggy and go anywhere, and Minnie could go anywhere she wanted to, but Minnie just stood up and give him good old flat cussins. When she got ready to go out the door and he said "What are you goin to do?," she just turn around and give him a good cussin and went on out the door. Earl doesn't believe it, but Minnie talked to him like he was an I don't know what. I been there too many times and heard her. Me and her's the same age. She didn't want him to cross her, and when he did she told him off. And she'd come back when she got ready.

He liked Uncle Jessie too, and Uncle Jessie was not like Glenn --he didn't have any money. But mostly Grandpa thought if a man was goin to marry one of his daughters he had to be somebody, you know, and because the Gobles had a little . . .  you know he looked up to them. And Gladys she tried to date some boys that was her age and mine. One of them was Clyde Smith, and I forget the other boy's name. Gladys done her best, you know, because they was sweet on her, but Grandpa wouldn't let her go. She had to stay at home. But boy if Glenn come over, then they could go.

But my mamma and daddy never got to be together alone until they got married. They had to sit in the livin room and Grandpa sittin right there like an old bear. Did he help them to get started at all? No. My daddy and mamma got whatever they got with their own hands. Grandpa never helped them. I don't think he was able to help them too much, and if he could've he wouldn't've. He didn't like Daddy. But sure he could have helped them get started. Grandpa had a pretty good start due to Grandma's hard work. He was a pretty prosperous farmer. He had good stock, though he didn't own his farm. He always rented from Owens, nearly all the time, that had the cotton gin in Chandler. But Grandpa always had good teams and, I don't know, a lot of cows to milk. He was a pretty prosperous farmer in them days, you know.

There was no love lost, cause I didn't care nothin about him, and Daddy didn't care nothin about him. Fact, Daddy'd get upset the way he treated Grandma--Daddy always called her Mary Ann. Now she knew that Earl liked head cheese. They'd make that when they'd butcher, so Grandma she'd make up a great big batch of head cheese, and then she'd come to town. We lived down there about a block and half off of the main road. Grandpa'd stop the car and let that dear soul out, after she'd worked all day to get ready to come to town, and she'd have a big bundle of head cheese and this and that, so that Mother and Dad could have some of it, and she knew Earl would get some of it. She'd have to walk down there, and he'd take the car and go on up town and park, like a big smart-aleck. She'd bring the stuff down, then she had to walk up town, hunt wherever the car was, put her utensils away, and buy her groceries. Now I tell you I don't have no use for a man like that. I don't care if he is my blood grandfather, I just can't have no use for him. He was cruel, cruel. Anybody he could run over, he'd run over'em. With other people, he made a fool out of hisself. Like I told you, when Earl and I started datin he just made a fool out of hisself around Earl. We always had to go home with 'em, we had to eat with 'em, and all this malarkey.

There was no love lost between him and me. And Sarah--you talk to Sarah. She's got the same heart I've got. And Sarah, she run off. She was down there you know to stay all night with Grandma because we all loved Grandma, so she went down there to stay all night. And Grandpa he was just persuaded he was about ready to give her a little switchin --over somethin she didn't do. Minnie accidentally pulled out the machine drawer and spilt the stuff in the floor, and he layed it on to Sarah. So Sarah was just, I don't know, about seven year old, and Grandpa, boy he was just fast goin to get her, and she run out the door. She started for home, which was about three miles--walking. Grandma she took out, right after her, and Grandma caught her and just pled with her: "You come back now cause they're not expectin you at home. You stay all night, and you just stay right with me, I'll take care of you. I'll guarantee you he won't whip you." So Sarah said in fear and tears she went back with Grandma and stayed it out till she could get home.

So I wasn't the only one that didn't like him, and I don't think Archie was very crazy about him either. I just never did ask Archie. Grandpa Stidham didn't have no use for my Grandpa Pounds, either. He was just a worthless man, far as he was concerned.

4. Birthplaces

Archie was born on the Rice place23. You know where Pleasant Ridge is? It's just about two miles --I guess it'd be south --and then I know we turned and went about a half a mile east up to the place. That's where he was born--that's where he had that croup and durned near choked to death. Everything he had very near killed him. He had hoopin cough and I can just see him yet runnin through the house, and Daddy he'd start from the other end and run to get him. He'd just be chokin and gaspin, and you could just see his little head--he'd be runnin and the hair up here'd just be floppin. He'd be tryin to get to somebody. I thought he never would get over the whoopin cough.

I was born out on one of Doc Adams' farms there on Deep Fork, and from there the folks moved to Pleasant Ridge. Let's see--who owned that place? Seem me like that was a Rice that owned that one. It was a farm of about 80 acres. We lived there two or three years. And then we moved over ...I don't know the name of that place--they always called it the McCorkle farm--and that's where Sarah was born.

Melvin was born I think down there where I was born, cause he was pretty small when we moved to the Rice property where Archie was born. There's fourteen months I know between me and Melvin. I don't know how much there is between me and Archie. We lived in several places. We lived down there where I was born and Melvin was born, and then we'd take this long move and we'd move up there to Pleasant Ridge, and there's where Melvin and I started to school. From there then we went over to that old McCorkle place--we were still in the Pleasant Ridge district. And there's where Sarah was born. From there then Daddy rented from Owens, so we lived on two or three of his farms.

If Daddy thought he could better hisself, why we moved. He was always tryin to get better land. Some of the land wasn't worth a hoot, and he'd try to get somethin that had bottom land. We was livin on Owen's place--a different one but it was still Owens'--when Earl and I got married. No, we lived on the Sprague place but I think Mr. Owens owned it I know Grandpa Stidham lived a lot on Owens', too, you know. That place across from Gobles--that was Owens'. Grandpa lived there. Now the old eighty--Grandma and Grandpa Stidham lived there five years, and we lived there five years. Aunt Sarah and Uncle Jessie lived on it, and then they finally bought it. Hersey owned it. That's the one where the Turnpike goes through.

One year we was back there, me and Daddy walked all over it. Mother walked till she gave out, so Daddy found a good stump and she rested till we got back. We went through all the fields, cause I could remember all of them, and he could--naturally he could. Every tree he cut down he knew when he cut it. We had one horse that got in quick sand, ol' Maude, and of course we lost her down there. But I was glad I took that walk. It brought back a lot of memories. That's where Archie got stung with a centipede. Boy we thought somethin had killed him. He was down near the pond, and there was the barn there and on up was the house. Some of us was outside, and I don't know what he was doin--maybe just down there playin around the pond for all I know. But boy we heard that kid screaming-- I never heard such screams in my life. So Daddy he took out in a long run--he was long legged anyhow--and went along till he had him. Archie told him what happened. That thing just stood up on its stingers and crawled across his foot. So they called Dr. Adams right quick, and he said to bring him in. We nearly always had a telephone. Daddy was kind of--over cautious, when it came to illness. And Mother was too. With four kids, and Archie had been sick so much, that I don't ever remember of us not havin a telephone.

5. Melvin and Archie

Melvin had some of Grandpa Stidham's temper too, the same disposition. Melvin, sometimes he'd take them cards and tear 'em all to pieces or throw 'em away. He had a temper, all right. I protected Archie from the time he was big enough to get around and help do anything. Melvin never bothered him when he was little and sick, but we go to the field to work and Archie and I we'd be usin our hoe to work, choppin cotton or whatever. Melvin he'd work a little bit, bless his heart, and then he'd find a few little rocks, and so he'd start throwin'em at Archie. That's the way he'd do, just "ping!" you know, and "ping!" [laughs]. And pretty soon he'd beat him and hit him just enough, Archie then he'd start cryin. Well, right there I took my hoe and I went to work on Melvin, and boy I tell you I meant business, and he knew it.

One time I accidentally hit him with my hoe. Oh, yes, accidentally. I was after him, but I hit him with my hoe and cut him, not accidentally really, but I said, "If you don't leave him alone, I'm gonna just cut you all to pieces with this hoe." I said, "I'm sick and tired of you beatin him all the time." So I hit him, and Melvin threw up his hands you know cause I was just walkin right in to him, and I got him. I cut him a little bit. "I'm goin tell Mama on you" [she imitates a tearful voice]. I said, "You just tell Mama, I don't care. I'm gonna tell her what you done to Archie all mornin." "You two don't like me. You just mistreatin me all the time." And so he give us that big line, you know, and he walked off and he went down to the creek. He said, "I'm gonna go down there and jump in that water, and you'll never see me anymore!" So Archie and I, we didn't know what'd he do, so we go down to the creek a-lookin all around you know like a bunch of cranes, and we didn't see nothin of him. So when we went home he still had his little cut, and I said, "I just dare you to tell Mama how you got that. Because I'm gonna tell Daddy what you been doin."

So anyway he didn't tell. That's the only way I could keep him off Archie-- just take my hoe and I'd go after him. He knew I'd hit him, and he had to move. I saved Archie's hide so many times that it wasn't even funny. One time I knew that Melvin could outrun Archie. I was way on down ahead of' em, so there was a great big old snake down there, and I had my hoe with me, so I killed that snake and rolled it all up in the path with its head up, you know, with a stick, and I called out, "The first one here, I've got a secret I'm gonna tell 'em." And boy here they both come you know, and poor Archie he just couldn't hold Melvin a light. Melvin you know was always very fast, but that was one time he got there first when he wished he hadn't. He was right there on top of that snake before he ever seen it.

I just remember most of it, and helpin out a little. Melvin and I both helped take care of Archie. He was a weak and sick baby when he was borned. He had a long struggle in growin strong enough to learn to walk. His legs were very weak. He had malaria, from when we lived down on the Deep Fork bottom, and quite often they took him to the doctor. Always when it was nice weather mother would spread a quilt on the ground under a shade tree. It was Melvin's and my job to watch over him as he could only wobble around, very weak legs. His skin had a yellow cast to it for a while due to the malaria. Every time us kids got sick it hurt him the worst, includin whoopin cough. We were all afraid he would choke to death, for he coughed and choked so much. It amazes me that he has had the strength he has had since he grew up, workin so hard for so many years.

There was also a dog in our life when your dad was a baby. We had a collie we called Rover. He always stayed close to your dad, when Mother would put us outside. He was a real good watch dog and seem to realize your dad was not strong, always close by. You've heard about the little trip Archie went followin Daddy? I almost have to laugh yet every time I think about it. He got to where he could walk, and his little legs got pretty strong. And of course all the time he was sick Daddy carried him, and he was babied the whole time. We all babied him. If one of us got sick, the rest had to cater to 'em. Well, he was Daddy's baby. So, Archie got to where he got around pretty good--them little feet would take him places.

We was outside, and we was supposed to be watchin him. Daddy had took off a bale of cotton. Archie he decides that he's gonna go meet Daddy. We didn't know nothin about it. He didn't say anything-- he was about three years old. So he trots off, gets out the gate, trots down the road, and just keeps goin. Mother was doin somethin or other, pretty soon she comes to the door, she says "Where's Archie?" Well, we didn't know. She was about ready to give us a lickin for not knowin. 

She said, "You know which way he went?" We didn't know, but the road was sandy. Mother she goes out to the gate, and there was his little tracks. So she cuts her a little switch, and she goes after him.  

She keeps yellin, "Archie!" and he don't answer. So she goes after him. She goes on down the road about a mile and she's gettin close to where the road would turn and go on to the highway. She kept yellin and yellin, then she seen them little tracks turn off, you know . . . .

6. Sarah and Ira

How Sarah came to marry Ira was like one of them Glenn Goble cases. Ira wouldn't date anyone, but when Sarah came along he got interested. He was much older than her. Sarah was nine years old when Earl and I got married, and Ira and a bunch of them played and made music that night at our chivaree. And my lord he was on up there then. Oh yeah, he was a good musician, quite a guitar picker. He and Brian made pretty good music. Daddy didn’t approve of Ira though he never said nothing. Earl asked for me and Ira asked for Sarah, and that's the way it went. Daddy never tried to pick a husband for us.

7. Aunt Arlie

I can remember Aunt Arlie when she used to come to see us. She lost her husband, she had two small children, and that's when Archie was a baby. She came and she spent quite a bit of time with us this one time. I know we just had the wagon and team. When we'd go to town we'd put chairs in behind the seat, and so she sat there. And she had this girl named Jo Ann and the boy was named John after his Dad. She was the one that spoiled me so bad. I know that Mother'd get so upset. She'd go and spank me for something, and Aunt Arlie'd take me and run, so that ended that. And that's bad, you know. Why she done it I don't know, but she done it. And you know what that does to a kid. It ruins you.

Grandpa Pounds he used to come in with a little bag of candy you know. "Now this is for you. You just keep this for yourself." For me, you know. And ol' selfish me, if Mother didn't catch me, I'd eat it all. He'd say, "You're just like your grandmother, and I just can't help it." But Mother caught me a few times, and boy she gave me a lickin that counted. She said "You just don't do that no more. You divide with these other three."

8. Doctors

How Daddy could afford to pay all those doctor bills, I don't know. He'd wait till our crop was harvested and pay what he could. He never paid in kind. He paid cash. ol' Doc Adams, he wanted money. He was a multi-millionaire, but he wanted money. He took property away from people--he had that record. I know when Earl took pendicitis, we had Dr. Smith. So Daddy and Earl's dad, they got all excited--they thought Smith was goin to let him die. So they came down there and said "we want to call Dr. Adams down here." ol' Doc was noted for...well, in some cases he'd give you that old Final Shot. That was the end of you. He'd be there, and he'd give you a little shot, and he'd leave, and in a few minutes you was dead. 

I was afraid of him. Daddy and Earl's Dad said "We'll pay the bill." I said, "you can call him down here and he can look at Earl and check him, but I'm goin to stand right here," I said, "and he's not givin him nothing." Smith was on the phone makin the arrangements to take him to Oklahoma City. I said, "Dr. Adams is not goin to give him anything." But of course they thought they was doin a good deed, you know, and both of them liked J. W. Adams but I didn't. So they had ol' Doc come down, and he said "Well, he's got pendicitis." That's what the other doctor had already said. Still, I was scared to death of him. I heard too many tales. Miz Hicks, she had eighteen children, and she was in labor, and ol' J. W. Adams come out there, and he was drinkin. Earl's mother was there, and she said she could smell the liquor on him. And Mom wasn't nobody's fool. So he give her a high-powered shot, and he turned around and got in his buggy and left. Or he might a had a li'l ol' car by that time, I don't know, but anyway he left, and Earl's mother said it wasn't long till Miz Hicks went into hard labor. They tried to get him back but couldn't catch him no where, and she hemorrhaged to death. I remembered all of that, and I really was afraid of him--scared to death. I didn't want him treatin anyone that was related to me.

Not that he'd do it on purpose, no, but I think he was drinkin, and he didn't really care. He'd just give em a shot, maybe to give em relief, and he'd go. And he got pretty tangled up in a girl that had an abortion, and they found her body out there at the cemetery at Chandler sittin up by a tombstone. They laid that onto Dr. Adams. Of course he had so much money he bought everybody off. I went to the courthouse that day, cause I just wanted to see what happened, and he come in with some attorney, and they went in behind closed doors, turned around, and pretty soon they walked out. He had quite a record. He's the one that delivered me, but that didn't make any difference--that didn't give me no love for him. He delivered Minnie, Gertie and Gladys--he very near killed Grandma when the twins was born. He delivered Melvin, and he delivered Archie.Not that we always had a choice about who to call. There wasn't many doctors. Everyone run to Dr. Adams that I knew any thinf about. I know our whole entire family did.

9. Daddy's Childhood

I never heard Daddy tell many stories about when he was a kid, or about his Dad. They didn't have much time for their Dad because he more or less deserted them, you know. The day he was to be buried they was all there at our house, so they all go up and shoot pool till time for the funeral, till it was time to take him out and bury him. But when your Dad deserts you and kicks you outdoors, and you don't have nothin to eat, you don't have anywhere to go, and you know that he don't care nothin about you-- how can you have any feelings for him? They never fussed with him about it. I never heard a one of the boys ever complain to him, they never condemned him, but they didn't feel for him like I felt for my Dad. Cause my Dad he said "I'll take care of my kids. They'll have a bed to sleep in, a roof over their heads, and clothes to wear." 

Grandpa like I told you he liked to go to the dances. He never did remarry, and he was a young man. He dated one woman after Grandma died, and he said, "I never felt so bad in my life. I took her home and I swore I'd never date another woman." And he never did. He said "I had the best woman in the world." And he didn't treat her like he should have, so I guess he just didn't feel right. Cause Leota Stinson told me that Grandma would have to ride a horse and go into town--and she had this whole houseful of kids--and Daddy would watch over the smaller kids as best he could--and she'd take the horse and ride it to town and buy the groceries and come back with a sack of flour tied over that horse and whatever they had to eat, and carry it back in. This lady told me, and she's the only one that ever knew Grandma, so I know she was right. She said, "Your Grandpa never worried about nothin, but your Grandmother was really a wonderful person." That's all I know.

10. Marriage and Music

Course my Daddy also loved to play the fiddle and go to dances. First big argument he and Mama had after I was borned, they went to a dance and they walked and I don't know how far it was, and they had a little bit to nip on over there you know. Daddy he called the dances as well, so he was playin the violin and Mother was playin an old fashioned organ, and Mother said they'd lay the babies on the bed you know, then they'd clear the floor so they'd have room to dance, so she said they got ready to go home, and Daddy he'd had a little snort or two, just enough I guess that he was feelin pretty good, he said, "I'll carry the baby now." She said, "No you're not goin to carry this baby." She already had me in her arms. So she said they had quite a little argument about it, but he didn't carry me home either. She said, "You'll stumble and fall, and you're not goin to carry her, so you just as well forget it."

A dance was held in somebody's house always--just the neighbor’s. But they finally quit goin cause Mother didn't like for Daddy to take a drink, and sometimes you know one calls for another one. Finally they just give it up. And then Daddy often in the evenin after we'd eat he'd say "Do you feel like playin the organ a while? I'd like to play the violin." And she'd always play for him--second was what she done. So he'd play up a storm on that old violin: "Turkey in the Straw" and some of the real old ones. After the time he'd git the milkin' done and everything and get in, you know, it was a way after dark. Then he had to get up the next morning, same old routine. He finally laid it aside. But dance-- he'd dance till...last time he was at my house, I was playin the organ, and he just hit the floor and away he went. He loved to dance.

Mother may have fussed about  cause she didn't like that drinkin. They'd get in an argument every time. I don't doubt that at all. I don't recall it cause I was too small when that was goin on. But I remember them playin together--that was later. He kept that violin for years, but he didn't go to no dances with it. Then he joined the church--you know we just had a little country church. He never played in church but he always sang--he done the leadin. He chose all the songs, and If I was playin them in too high of a key he'd say "Sis, you got to drop it," you know, or "You got to come back up a little." He knew where I should be so that he could sing, and he always led the singin. 

We could hear him comin. He'd haul off a bale of cotton we called it--a wagon load of cotton--and he finally got money enough to buy him a new iron wheel wagon. That old thing  made more noise it seemed like along the road, and it'd just be as dark as pitch, but we could hear him. He was always whistlin. That's the first thing we'd hear was the cracklin of that old wagon and we'd hear Daddy whistlin. And he never went to town that he didn't bring us a sack of candy. Never. He could whistle too--anything he wanted to. And sing anything he wanted to. I don't remember when Mama got rid of her organ but it must have been when I was still pretty small. 

I don't remember an organ in the house after Sarah was born. Seem to me like they sold the organ when they moved. I don't remember anymore until I was about twelve year old or eleven. Then they got another one 'cause I played it. They let Melvin and I stay up you know and play and sing. We could stay up just so long. Then we got in trouble--we pulled a little smart stunt one day. Mother and Dad was gone to town to get groceries, and we decided to just put on a performance for everyone on the party line. So we cranked the number of rings for when there's somethin everyone's supposed to hear, you know, and then we put the receiver down and Melvin and I played and sang. Well that was fine --till Daddy happened to hear about it. Then we got in big trouble. That phone was not for playin with, no sir.

11. Leaving the Farm

When your brother A.M. was a baby my folks was still out there on Owens' place. I guess Archie--I forget where he went, which farm--but then it wasn't long Daddy had a sale.

Archie'd already started farmin with Daddy when they was married, and so they stayed there that first year. Then they moved. Of course Earl and I went to Kansas, just over the line close to Winfield. It was no work--we had to do something. Earl worked for a dollar a day--$25 a month. We got our milk, our butter, and our eggs--and house rent. When Daddy first moved to town, he run a gas station. That was the first thing he done, in Chandler --a Philips 66. Claude Jondahl you know had it. Near the old drugstore on the corner there. Then they was up at the north end of town in a little grocery store.

12. School

I never went to high school. There was no high school at Oak Grove, only to the eighth grade. When I was in school at Oak Grove, Arthur and Gertrude Linton were my teachers. He died last summer. They wanted me to come live with them when they moved to Chandler so I could go to high school. I helped teach in the little room when I was in the 6th grade and the 7th. Gertrude was my teacher, Mr. Linton's wife. She taught the little room and he taught the big room, but he'd send me in there to teach when she had to go home. They wanted to take me--they didn't have no children. They wanted me to come and live with them durin the week so I could go to school. But Mother and Dad wouldn't let me go. I wanted to be a teacher--that's what I would have been. School was very easy for me. It was easy for Archie and Sarah too. Melvin never did care much for it.

I was in the seventh grade, and my teacher said "You don't even have to study it seems like much." It was about half way through the semester. He said, "If you want to, I'll give you the eighth grade books. I think you can do both of them this year." So he gave me that, and I passed both of them. But they just wouldn't let me stay with them through the week to go to school. The Lintons came out and talked to Mother and Dad, but they wouldn't let me go. They didn't think a girl should be away from home. That was the idea in that day. But Melvin, Archie, and Sarah went. The buses came along then, but it didn't do me no good. I would have sure liked to have went, cause I would have been a school teacher.

I was about thirteen when I finished the eighth grade. After I finished, I stayed at home and worked around the place. Then Miz Goble--Glenn's mother--wanted me to come down and help her one day a week. So I did that, and they paid me so much, and of course I gave that to Mother and Dad. I didn't get to go to high school. I just fooled with the organ and things like that. I dropped interest cause there wasn't no use. I knew I couldn't do nothin. And Melvin, he only went a while--he didn't like it, and he quit. Then he went into this singin school. My parents didn't believe in us goin away from home--a girl. Now the Holcrafts they sent their girls. They went into Chandler, stayed with Boggses, got a little room there. They went to school. They was kids I went to school with. But me, and Rachel Saulsberry didn't get to go. She was in the same grade I was. It was just that day and time.

I didn’t feel resentful  just went on my little merry way. I knew there wasn't nothin I could do about it--I couldn't walk ten miles. But I would have sure liked to went with my teachers. Archie and Sarah got a chance, they went and stayed in town and worked. Sarah lived in town part of the time and worked. She had a little apartment of her own.24 I don't know what done it for her--things began to change a little. Sarah worked. She worked for an attorney most of her time after she graduated. Archie was makin his own way almost all together. He worked, I know, he worked hard cause he had to keep his grades up to even get through high school. Anyway, kids can just do so much if your parents you know can't afford to do better.

When the school bus came through that made a difference but there was lots of them had little apartments and lived in town. And I could have just as well stayed with the Lintons. I would have been under good supervision. They would have helped me. So I had it made, but they just wouldn't accept it. There wasn't nothin I could do about it. I never held it against them cause that was just the way it was in that day and time. Grandpa Stidham, he was always a ravin and a cavin cause he said they was too free with me anyhow. His big mouth. He didn't like it the way Mother and Dad--they let me start datin a little younger than he thought they should have--about fourteen. I was young but gee whiz, what would you have done in that day and time? 

All you done was somebody come and get you in the car and take you to church. You go to church, and when it's over you get up and come back home. And on Sundays maybe both families would get together, have dinner together, and that was the extent of it. But Grandpa, he had to let it be known. He told mother, "You're just lettin that girl do as she please, and she's too young." And Mother said, "She's not goin to have to live the life I lived." Cause Grandpa wouldn't let her go nowhere. When Daddy came to see her when they was courtin, Grandpa sat right there in the same room with them. No, Mother was seventeen, Grandma was seventeen. All three of us, seventeen--me and Mother and Grandmother. Three generations--and no divorces.

I was seventeen when I got married. I worked, and I took care of the baby for another school teacher one year for the whole term. I think we just accepted things more then than we might now, I don't know. But I sure would have liked to go to high school, cause I could have made it. Then by this time I'd have had a good pension  I could have done a few more things for my parents later in life you know that I couldn't do.

Earl: I went to the eight grade I guess --at Lone Oak, three miles north of Stone. Used to be a school there--it's all deloppagated now. They moved the building. All that's there now is the old cellar. My Dad he told me to go and he'd help me but I was like the rest of them. I was already too smart. Back then you know, there was so much of the time I had to stay at home and work. There was nothin to get interested in. You'd go along a while, then you'd be out a week workin, then you'd go back a few days, then you'd have to work. That was just the way they got what education they got. You can't get interested like that.

Bessie: I remember, like myself, when I graduated, that was just one thing that my folks would not give up, that I could go away. Daddy never give any of us up easy, even them boys. Now your mother,Opal she likes to read. She can just read every day. Just read, read, read. Archie he'll just stomp, you know, and stir the dust up all around, but it don't do any good . I just think he's wastin his energy, but I don't say nothin. I think Mother got to go to the eighth grade. That's about all any of them got then. That's about equal to high school now. But I wanted to be a school teacher.

Daddy said he wished to God they'd had a houseful of kids and he didn't know why they just had four. Just four. Because he said there wasn't nothin any greater than the children. That was his pride and his joy. When I first got married, it wasn't nothin for him to just get the blues and unhook his team maybe in the middle of the afternoon just go in and turn them loose and call it a day him and Mother both. They just couldn't hardly take it you know that I was gone. But we went up there to see them, we went every week, and then sometimes we'd be there more. He'd just get the blues and go home in the middle of the day, because, see, we was all nearly the same age, and when one of us left it wasn't long until we was all gone. And he knew that. He told Mother then well we should have had about a dozen because, he said, the children are so wonderful. He just couldn't hardly give us up. The boys the same way he was crazy about them boys. He wouldn't even teach Sarah and I how to drive but the boys he'd teach. He said a woman didn't need to know. He was just old fashioned.

13. Church

In that day and time it was different. We all went to the same place undenominational. Now I don't know that the Catholics came there. I'm sure that they went to their own church but the rest of us was just people, we came there to worship. So there was no name, no nothin. Ee always had worship at home before we went to bed. Daddy would always call for prayer for the family and for all of us and for our protection and Mother would be thankful for the day and so on. Just family worship all the time while we were kids. There was a kind of spot in there. Mother was always dedicated but Daddy he kind of drifted away for a while, then came right back again. 

He didn't do anything that wasn't right and he went to church most of the time and he paid expenses for a minister to come. Or he'd go get him, take him to preach and then take him home. Daddy always helped out there. I never could see that my Dad done anything that was wrong. He played pool but that's no big sin. But Mother she was a person that kept things more serious. She took everything more serious than Daddy. 

When I come out here to California I had that stroke and came so near dying, I came in contact with the Adventists. I was thirty-five I guess. I was paralyzed. The doctor we had was Adventist, so was the physical therapist and the hospital. They took the best care of me. They just waited on me and run after me at all hours of the day and night. And so I thought well if there's any kind of religion that I would choose it would be Seventh Day Adventist because of my doctors and my nurses and their kindness. Because I was a sick gal. In about three months I learned to walk again so we started--Elder Hall came to our house and gave Bible studies. I was gonna be baptized, and some friends came in and they was gonna be baptized too.

When Earl's family was hurt I called the Pastor and we had Bible studies in the home. Earl's sister-in-law was baptized and the children some are very dedicated Adventists. My family kind of felt like that was foolish that I would go a different way but I think you should go the way you see and I was led to go that way so I can't see any other way. I don't blame other people for what they believe and whatever but I'll always be an Adventist. Your own salvation is somethin you have to work out for yourself. Mine was I was so sick I just lay at death's door and I knew it. But Gary was still little, and I didn't want a step-mother over him so every time I was conscious I was prayin that I could be healed, and my doctor would come and pray with me and the nurses would pray with me. Then we went to the Adventist Church, Earl and I and we liked the people--they was good to us and I joined. That was a long time ago.

Daddy wasn't going to church when you were small and do you know why? Cause that little church down there, the Bible Missionary Church in Chandler, they didn't believe that Daddy stood a chance because Daddy smoked. That was it. They never accepted Daddy. They called Mother "Sister Pounds" but he was "Tom." I think that the problem was the preacher, not the people. He meant well enough, but he wasn't educated enough, and he didn't know how to deal with the public. He thought if you wasn't dressed just so so or if you smoked why you wasn't fit to be in the Kingdom of Heaven. But that's not what God Almighty said.

I'll tell you another incident. We went there one time, Earl and I. We had our six old men with us, the six we were takin care of, and we stayed at your Dad's house next to Mother, the old log house. Archie left it open for us. And when we arrived, naturally I was in my slacks, and Sarah came over, she was in her slacks. The next day or two, come Sunday, Mother wanted Sarah and I to come to church with her. Earl he said he'd stay there with the six men, and I think Archie he was always there. I know Daddy was part of the time. Well, Sarah and I went to church with Mother, and all he preached about was women in britches: women in britches--what a disgrace and what a sin it was. I never got so aggravated cause I didn't believe that way. Besides I had ladys' slacks on, I didn't have mens’ pants on. I had done talked to our pastor and we even wear em to church a lot of the time.

That night Mother said "It'll soon be time for church--are you goin to church with us?" And I said "No, I've heard all the pants I want to hear." I said, "The Bible don't read that way and if he can't preach a sermon out of the Bible and find enough scriptures to teach on and all he can talk about is the slacks I had on the other day I don't want to hear him anymore." When a preacher don't have nothin to talk about but what people wear then he don't have much religion himself.

14. Daddy's Death

Daddy never stopped goin to church. Now I want to tell you somethin that happened when Daddy died. Archie got there just about the time he died. He had knocked his oxygen mask off, but that was just a reflex. He was already gone. Archie walked into the house, and the house was full of angels. Daddy's bedroom was full of angels. Archie seen them. And when they took Daddy out the angels went with him. Right on out to the hearse, and they took the body away.

Well, I didn't know nothin about it, I was in California all this time, but after they had taken Daddy away, you know, Archie come back and he was talkin to Mother, and he said "Did you see the angels?" "Angels?--why I never seen anything." Course Mother was just hysterical anyway. Sarah said she didn't see anyone. Archie said, "The house was full and they followed Daddy right out, right out by the corpse."

Then I flew out there for the funeral. I hadn't been well, but I went anyway cause I thought Mother needed me. And when they was gettin ready for the last time to put Daddy away, they had him in a hearse, and we followed the hearse all the way down--just the family, Archie and me and Sarah and Mother. Earl helped me out of the car as they was takin Daddy's coffin out of the hearse, and when I stepped out of the car the angels were so thick that I just couldn't even hardly walk. Course I was grief-stricken anyway. But they was so thick they was just touchin me all over. I could hear them walkin, and I knew they was there, so thick around me that I could hardly take a step. So they walked all the way with me up to Daddy's coffin. I grabbed ahold of Daddy, I got my hand in his vest pocket. I didn't want to turn loose. Earl got me loose and took me back to the car, and when he put me in the car the angels left. I never said anything right then, you know, and so we stayed a little while with Mother.

I told Mother about it. She says, "That's strange. You know Archie seen this house full of angels. But I didn't see a one. I didn't see any up there today." I said, "But they was there. They was surroundin Daddy's grave, and right where he was they was all around him." So I'll never believe but what my Dad will be arisen when the earth is made new.

I believe that was a signal to Archie and one to me. Archie knew how Daddy felt, and I knew. They was sent to support me, cause I wasn't well, and also to tell me and Archie that my Daddy was alright.

15. Mama Drives

Mother never drove. Daddy offered to teach her, but she wouldn't. I put her under the wheel onest there in Upper Lake. We owned a hundred and twenty-six acres on up above us. So we got in the Hudson one day, and I said, "Mother I want to take you for a car ride." We got up there and I stopped the car and I got out and went around on the other side, you know. I said, "You scoot over a little bit." She said, "What do you want me to scoot over for?" I said, "Well I want you to get under the wheel." "Oh no, I'm not goin to get under that wheel." I said, "Yeah, you're goin to drive a little ways. There's nobody up here. And I want you to drive. The car's all automatic. I'll sit right here beside you and show you everything. There's no reason why you can't drive this car." 

Well, she seen I wasn't gonna drive, and so I showed her how to start it. It was in neutral and I showed her the drive and the R for reverse and everything. So I said, "Now don't give it any gas much, just pull it into that D and it'll start moving." So I stayed close by where I could help her, but anyway she just "Oh Bessie why do you do this to me? You know I can't drive." I said "Mother, look, you're just doin fine, you're just goin right down the road." So she just nearly had a fit. After she drove a little while, I said, "Well, now, put the brake on, push your foot down there and it'll stop." She did, and so I kicked it over in neutral. One of the boys, Melvin, done her the same way one day. Tom was still alive then and he had a fit: "She didn't need to learn to drive."She said to me, "Well, it would be nice to know how, but I'm afraid." And that was that. Mother was not very brave. Though at that time she was on up there in years--we'd done lost Daddy. But I just done it. I just wanted her to say she did drive, even if it was just a few feet.

16. Mama's Death

The doctors and hospitals just prolonged Mother's suffering. That's what they done, and Sarah and Archie both right there and fought it. But it didn't do any good. She was on that life-support system about three weeks, then she had another bad stroke--heart attack and just finally died anyway. But Mother was gone the first time. When she had that bad heart attack, Mother was gone. That's what upset Archie and Sarah so. See I wasn't there--wouldn't done any good if I had been. They told the doctor, "She don't want on any machine. Don't put her on a machine." "Oh but we took an oath. We have to. We have to try to save this woman." Well sometimes I just wonder.

Earl and Bessiea