I arrived on this earth on the 20th. day of September, 1904. According to my mother, I was a most attractive youngster, with handsome dark brown eyes, which in my childhood days, caused me much concern and mental anguish as the result of teasing by my brothers.
My boyhood days on the Illinois farm were generally happy ones filled with normal events of farm life and attendance at a one-room school house. I remember with pleasure the first warm day of Spring, when we were permitted to shed our shoes, and venture out barefoot in the dewy grass. I can still hear the call of the mourning doves from some distant telephone wire, and the song of the meadowlark in the pasture field. I can remember of lying on the roof of the house on lazy summer afternoons, watching the white fleecy clouds and the swallows darting hither and yon and in and out of the chimney. I can remember once of slipping to the underside of the tree limb, which was our means of access to the house roof, and of being rescued in the nick of time by Ronald.
Harvest time always brought excitement as the thresher and steam engine moved in and the neighbors congregated for the task. Remembered also, are the never ending chores, wash days when I had to stamp the clothes and turn the wringer, also the butter churning, and as I grew older, I was allowed to take a team of horses into the fields for cultivating the corn, mowing the hay and turning the stubble under before school started; this was a very monotonous job which I thoroughly detested.
Other events in my early years which should be recorded concern: 1. The loss of the terminal phalanx of the index digit of the left hand, when about three years of age by placing said digit on the edge of the slop bucket in the back yard, raising the hedge knife to the vertical and not having the strength to halt is downward movement, as I played make believe. 2. The burning of the barn, a year or two later when trying to burn a lice infested hen's nest, without removing it from the manger. While the fire raged, burning one horse, the carriage and various farm implements, I hid in the apple tree. 3. The shooting of brother Franklin as we played with the twenty-two caliber rifle in our upstairs bedroom and once again going into hiding, this time on top of the windmill. Brother Franklin lost part of an eyelid and in subsequent years found that the roots of two teeth had been destroyed as the bullet passed through. 4. Another event which I remember vividly was sawing the spokes in the hired man's buggy. "Boy", was he mad and "Boy", did I get a spanking.
The last two years on the farm bring only memories of sadness and heartache. In 1918, the year of the Flu epidemic, my own siege is vivid in my recollection and even more vivid is my memory of the early morning hour in December, of creeping downstairs to witness a mother's grief upon losing her first born in the bloom of youth and of standing at the bedside as a life was torn from us with terrible suddenness. I remember Father arising from his sick bed to kneel beside Mother at the bier of their son, to talk to their God.
After these events, Father's health forced us to leave the farm in 1920. We traveled by auto to Glendale, Arizona, by way of Kansas City and Oklahoma City. In Glendale, I was a Junior in high school and wore a military uniform until I was excused from drill because of the injury to my leg. This injury occurred by striking my leg on the end piece of a canvas cot while sweeping the porch for my mother. The bruised bone which had me hobbling around for several weeks was a source of periodic annoyance for the next thirty-three years, causing intense pain when activated.
In Arizona, I first became a driver of the family car, had dates, attended the Epworth League and blew out a tire one Sunday afternoon when crossing some narrow gauge construction tracks at a "high" rate of speed. The force of the jolt tossed the rear seat couple against the top, the boy skinning his nose on a bow and the girl hooking her chin over the bow.
After touring California, the next summer (1921), we returned to Oklahoma City and 1922, I graduated from Central High School, and finally grew from a midget to a normal sized lad. That summer, I worked in the shoe department of McEwen-Haliburtons and in the Fall entered Oklahoma City College at 12th. and Walnut Street, N. E. I was pledged to Kappa Phi and Tri Beta, and learned to dance, play cards, say the Greek alphabet forward and backward, and started "agoing with the girls." At about mid-term the college moved to its present location and my education continued through the second year. This included forays to Edmund to steal the clapper from the school bell and the sun dial from the campus. This resulted in a riot in which one of the boys broke his ankle. One of these trips resulted in burning out a main bearing on the Buick. Between school years, I worked at Wilson and Co. on the beef line, placing the inspection stamp on designated places.
Starting with my Junior year, I decided to change my curriculum and so enrolled at Oklahoma A & M to study agriculture. They wouldn't accept all of my credits, however, toward a degree in agriculture, so took up Business Administration. I got a job in the College Cafeteria which provided my breakfast and lunch. However, on my twenty-first birthday, I overslept and got fired.
During one of my vacation periods, I worked for Crescent Market (John Thomas), driving the wholesale truck. At another time, I sold men's wear at a close out sale of Baer's Clothing Store.
For my senior year, I returned to Oklahoma City University. After graduation, I worked for a while as a Frigidaire mechanic, went to Earlsboro in the oil fields as a night clerk and bookkeeper in a hotel, and became a draft clerk at the Liberty National Bank. In 1928, I traveled from Dubuque, Iowa, to Galveston, Texas, with the Morris Auditing Company of Beverly Hills, California. The crew was laid off at Christmas time in Little Rock, Arkansas.
In 1929, I went to work for Wilson and Company as a Time and Attendance Clerk and stayed there until I went to March Field, California, in June of 1930 as a Flying Cadet. After "washing out" of flying school, I returned to Oklahoma City by way of Standard, California, visiting there the Reggie Scotts. I also visited Salt Lake City and Boulder, Colorado.
On October 22, 1930, I was married to Georgia Byers fulfilling a personal forecast three years before when, upon seeing her cross the campus, I said to myself, "I'll marry that girl, someday." In December, I worked for the Magnolia Petroleum Co. as a temporary and was offered a permanent job. Instead, we moved to Nicoma Park with the chickens (chicken Farm).
After three years, it became apparent that expense and income were not in balance so gave up the ghost (chicken) and moved the family, which now included Donna, born June 10, 1931, and the dog, back to town.
Being unemployed, I went to Comptometer School and took a Civil Service examination. After working on the Corn, Hog and Cotton programs in 1934, I received an appointment to the War Department in Washington and reported there in November of that year.
In February of 1935, I took a house in Cherrydale, Virginia, and Georgia and Donna drove up from Oklahoma. In 1937, we took an apartment near the Naval Observatory in Washington, so that Donna could go to kindergarten, Virginia having none. After about two years at this address and at Montrose Park where I played croquet, Donna played and Georgia watched, we moved to a ground floor duplex on Irving Street N. E. near Catholic University.
About this time, we made our first trip to New York City at Christmas time to visit Franklin who was working and going to school.
On December 13, 1939, Margo arrived at Georgetown Hospital. The event in everybody's life was Pearl Harbor and the ensuing years of war activity. Gas rationing came along and we sold our car because I was too patriotic to violate the regulations. Then we heard of all the black markets and Morgenthau using a plane every week to fly to New England and disillusionment came quickly. All in all, our life in Washington was devoid of much excitement. We lived a hand to mouth existence until the last year or two when, because of the war, I was able to increase my salary and responsibilities.
In 1942, we took our first vacation, going down to North Beach for ten days. We traveled by bus and shipped the bicycle to use for going to town for groceries. It was about this time that I gave up smoking and lost two teeth requiring the purchase of a dental clasp.
During 1944 and the first part of 1945, my work took me to the New York office about once a month, and in July of 1945 the office was moved to New York. I went up alone to find a place to live and every weekend, I would ride the subways and tramp the streets but could find nothing but rooms in a Brooklyn brownstone on the third floor with kitchen and bath out in the hall.
We shipped our furniture to a storage and paid a neighbor fifty dollars to carry us to Brooklyn. There were four of us and five of them; the wife's mother lived in New Jersey, so they all rode on my fifty dollars to that point, where we all spent the night and came on into New York City the next day. When I showed up with my family, the landlady moved a lady roomer out of the hall bedroom so Donna could have a place to sleep. When the lady roomer returned to find no home, she really howled and we did feel badly, but desperate situations call for desperate measures and this was New York.
By June of the next year, the housing situation was no better; so we went to Roslyn and bought our first home and maybe our last. During the year we lived in Brooklyn, we bought a 1933 Pontiac and spent our time sight-seeing. We saw more of New York than most people do who spend their lives there.
In December, we moved into our own home and I became a Long Island commuter which takes about three hours every day to get to and from the office in Brooklyn. We soon transferred our church membership from the Covenant First Presbyterian in Washington D. C. to the Roselyn Presbyterian Church.
In 1950, we changed our Pontiac for a 1940 Buick and that Fall took a tour of the New England states. In December, Georgia went to Oklahoma City to be with her father whose heart failed and who died on January First, 1951.
The next summer we drove to Oklahoma and Texas and New Mexico, our first trip since we came to the East in 1934. Donna did not go with us as she was working. We stayed with the Earnheart's in Oklahoma City and with Mother and Father in Fort Worth. We also went to Midland for two days at Dorothy and Bill's, and spent a day with the Willis' in Texline. We also visited the Carlsbad Caverns and the Mammoth Caves.
In 1952, we traded for a new Pontiac, our first new car, and that summer, we toured to Illinois by way of Niagara Falls and Canada. In Illinois, we visited in Shannon where Georgia's grandparents had lived and where her Uncle Charlie lived at that time. From Shannon, we went to Carthage staying with Uncle Paul's and in Elvaston with Uncle Fred's. Franklin and family were there at the same time on their way to New York. We returned home and a week later were hosts to Franklin's and the Earnheart's. Franklin took the plane home because of Father's illness.
In February of 1953, we spent a weekend in Montreal visiting with Donna who had a job dancing in a night club. That summer, we made an eleven day tour to Florida. My leg began to bother me; so in the winter, I had a complete check up and had x-rays made of the leg which by now caused me to limp most of the time. In April, on Easter Sunday, I went to the hospital and didn't get back to work for three months. Our only vacation this year was a three day trip to Glen Falls and Lake Placid in New York.
ed. note: Died April 20, 1970
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