Jimmy Davis and friends

Tonight I have included a few memories by Jim Davis who was a few years older than me but I just thought about all the small stuff and even some big stuff that effected our lives.  So here are a few memories from Jimmy:

I lived along the west side of the Denoya road. The Hathcoat home was at the corner of  where the road that lead west to Kaw City. Back a 100 yards or so on the west side of the there was a family that I can no longer remember the name of that lived a little south of them and on the west side of the road. Just a little further south was Taylor’ Store. South of the store a little ways the road split. Straight ahead on Denoya rd., I believe you could drive all the way to Old Highway 66 and go east to Pawhuska or west to Ponca City. If you turned left you went down a long hill to a pecan farm. The owner used to let anyone pick as many pecans as they want as long as you gave them half.
We lived there from 1948 to 1960. Our home was built by my Dad. A 100 yard or so north of the Hathcoats and across the road was Ed Connelly’s home. Someone lived across the Denoya from them and someone lived just north of them. We lived maybe 100 yards northwest of the Connelly’s. Just southwest of the Connelly’s a short distance was the Bill & Wilma Eden. They had two kids both younger than me. Billy and a sister I cannot remember. I think they ran the Dixie Dog at one time. Due west of the Connelly’s maybe 200 yards were the Lees.
I had two brothers. My older brother is Don Davis. He graduated in 1960. He now lives in Mountain Home Arkansas. My younger brother is Glenn who was born in 1955. He now lives in Grey Lake Illinois.
I certainly remember a lot of stories I would like to pass along. My wife just got home so I am going to close and continue this later.

_________________________________

Another email from Jim to Russell.

My name is Jim Davis (Jimmy then) We had to know one another. My dad (Gene Davis)was a lead man on the pump crews and organizer for the union. You and I were in the same grade. My Dad was killed in a car wreck crossing the Arkansas River at Ponca City in the December of 1955. My mom packed us up and we moved to Tucson in 61. I was 12. We lived on Phillips land less than a mile northwest from the general store. Our Neighbors were the Connely's Hathcoats and Lee's. My best two friends were James Hathcoat and Marc Whitt. I remember Camp #32. I remember a friend who lived in the second or third house from the south end. Those were idealic days growing up in Denoya. We played incessantly among the old ruins. My Dad used to organize these huge card games with all these families at our house. The grownups would play cards and the kids would play hide and seek. In the summer we would eat watermelon and homemade ice cream. We just had to know each other.


These two emails were a little of a repeat of each other but they show the character of the Osage and Shidler area.  What I hope you see is the friendship as well as hard times but they all make memories and they all ultimately create character.  Let me list a few key words:

Memories

Camp

Phillips land

Denoya

grownups

play cards

eat, ply, together

brothers

death of a father

Well I don't know about you but I don't see anywhere in here these things:

I wish I spent more time at the office

I needed a bigger house

I am in a hurry

I have too much to do

I am tired

You fill in the next question ....

What all these things say is spend time with family and friends and take time for people because they are important.  Today I got a friend request from Glenetta Harmon who I went to school with at Shidler.  I honestly did not invest enough time to get to know her but she was a nice person and a little quiet but a pleasant person who was part of my life.  So today I want to thank Glenetta for saying, "be my friend".

What did I learn from the Osage?

• enough is already said so say no more

Thanks for your time,

gary@thepioneerman.com

 

 

Honey dipping - does that sound like a sweet job?

One of the most motivational jobs I had was being a honey dipper. Now don't think I am talking about bee hives. In towns in America there is a sewer system which disposes of human waste but in rural communities you have lateral lines and a tank attached which captures the waste. I am talking about septic tanks. Now if you have lived in town too long you don't even know what that is so I am going to explain.

A septic tank is where all the sewage from the house goes to include the kitchen sink and toilets. And that is where a HONEY DIPPER got its name. But first here is a sideline story related to sewage.

We did not have dish washers or I should say we did not have mechanical dish washers. Also there were rules about eating and dishwashing. First off we ate three meals a day TOGETHER as a family with the exception of if your dad and mom worked outside the home and in that case you ate 2 means a day TOGETHER. Second, if you ate you were required to clean up or you had the choice of not eating. Notice I did not say choice not to eat and go do what you want. If you did not eat you got to watch everyone eat.

I always loved my mom's approach when someone would say they do not eat certain things. For example, one of my relatives who came to visit told mom they did not eat beans and corn bread. Mom asked if they had ever tried them and of course the answer was no. She would always inform them that was ok but that was all there was to eat until the next meal. The funny thing was at the next meal everyone would be eating whatever she cooked but the one person would get beans and corn bread. As I recall the beans and corn bread were refused only twice because the third time when beans and corn bread were made available the HUNGRY person began to get the message. Now the funny thing was after he ate the beans and cornbread which he enjoyed he was required to do dishes which he had not experienced prior to this occasion. I thoroughly enjoyed this entire event.

Now back to the Honey Dipping. It started when Aunt Gladys (Mrs. Snyder the science and math teacher) had a problem with her sewer. Dad volunteered me to go fix it. Back in those days there were clay pipes connected together and sealed by packing in large amounts or rope made of lead. The problem is that lead rusts over time and roots from trees grew into the pipes clogging them up. So I dug it all up and cleaned it out and then there was the tank which had to be pumped out and the contents disposed. That again is honey dipping. By the end of the day or two as it was you could not smell anything besides POOP. The bad thing was after that day when you live in a small town everyone knows you can figure out a problem and repair it and NO ONE wants that job. So even before I was out of high school I got to clean a lot of sewage tanks and repair broken or stopped up sewer systems. What is even worse is dad made me do it for free for the older ladies and friends. You would have thought I could have charged any amount I wanted since no one really wanted the job.

Well what did I learn in the Osage?

• I am GOING TO COLLEGE SO I DON'T HAVE TO BE A HONEY DIPPER
• One person's waste is another man's treasure
• Eat what is put in front of you and be thankful for what you do have

Thanks for your time,
gary@thepioneerman.com

Tarapin Races and Entrepreneurs

Now this is what we call a terrapin and when I was a kid almost everyone had one they played with.  Now for me it was one of my first entrepreneurial efforts.  You see every year there was a Grainola District Fair and during the fair we had a turtle races.

Here is how it worked:

• generally each race was by age group so you would be competing against your friends and their turtle and of course there were elimination rounds and then championships
• for some reason it seemed that Don Kelsey or Carl McConaghy or Carol Weaver would be one of the officials who would start the race
• someone would take chalk and draw a large circle on the blacktop in front of the Grainola School



Grainola School

• then they would take a cardboard box and cut out the bottom so that it would sit in the middle of the circle and everyone would place their turtle in the box
• when everyone was ready and nobody was still in the circle except the official, he lifted the box up to release the turtles
• if for some reason a turtle flipped upside down the official would turn the turtle back over
• then the screaming would start

At that point kids and parents would be screaming at their turtles to get moving and of course everyone hoped their turtle would reach the outer circle first.  The other officials would watch for which turtle crossed the chalk line first.  When a turtle did of course the official would yell out the winner.  I really don't remember how there got to be a pot (money) but the winner generally got 50 cents for winning, 2nd got a quarter, and third got a dime.  The races went on for hours.

Another fun thing about those races was that many folks would decorate their turtles and for some reason finger nail polish was the preferred paint.  At the end of the day all turtles would be released back to the wild.

At an early age I noticed that a lot of folks wanted to get into the races but their parents did not plan a head of time.  So, since my dad was the rural mail carrier (another story) on top of being a farmer and rancher and home builder he traveled the gravel roads every day.  For me this was great because a few days before the fair he would start collecting turtles for me.  By the time the fair started I would have 10 to 30 turtles.  I set up shop at the fair and I traded and sold turtles.  I made a lot of money every year as someone would want a turtle because it seemed fast or it was pretty. I always thought it was cool when you found a small turtle because it was typically faster and worth more money.  Another aspect of the turtle business was trading between rounds when people would be disappointed with their results.  This also proved to be a profitable aspect.  And last but not least I would always attempt to keep the fastest turtle for me.  This usually did not work out as the turtles were moody just like w_____, just kidding, maybe? 

What did I learn growing up in the Osage:

• turtles are fast compared to other turtles
• all folks are smart just relative to what topic (get it?)
• stop comparing yourself to others and just ask, "what does God expect from me?", your best
• that is all anyone should ask for and that is YOUR BEST

Thanks for your time,
gary@thepioneerman.com

Pulling a calf and how to save a few bucks

I am not going to get into National Health Care or Obamacare and weather you like it or not but I am going to tell you we have some solutions that are just down right practical when it comes to controlling health care costs.  First off if we would get rid of most of the paper and the politicians who don't know what is going on and give the power back to the doctors I bet we would save a bunch.

Now I don't want to be disrespectful but what we pay for having a baby is out of hand.   You cannot get in and out of the hospital with a healthy baby for less than 10 grand (ten thousand dollars).  On the farm we can deliver a baby for almost nothing with just a few common tools used around the farm.  Let me explain.

First off, if there are no complications you can just sit there and watch and after a few hours you have a baby just pop out.  We didn't even use hot water and the local doctor like in the old western movies.  Second, if there are complications we have some simple solutions, such as:

1.  if the baby is having trouble getting out (this was actually explained several stories back)  you just hook up the fence pullers and just crank that kid out.
2. if the baby is backwards, breach, you wash your hand and arm if possible then reach in and grab the baby by the nose and turn them around
3. if you just cannot get that baby out you perform a c-section on the spot and then sterilize what you can and sew it back up.
4. if the mother has trouble getting rid of the placenta you can try what I did one time and that was tie it to a stick and roll it up as you pull it out and when you are done you have a giant lollipop.  Kinda gross, isn't it?  I remember my dad one time slapped me up the side the head with it just to be funny.  I guess that is where I got my good looks.
5. did I mention that I am talking about cattle or cows having calves?

Now here is another problem that you can go to the doctor for or you can use some of our old fashioned remedies.

1. Gas, have you ever had extreme gas?  Well anytime I drink this new fake sugar stuff I get so much gas that I cannot hardly bend over.  The pain is terrific.  Well let me tell you how we solved this problem.  One time, and there were plenty, I had a steer that was bloated up real bad, that means they had a lot of gas.  With cattle it can actually kill them if you don't do something about it.  Well Dad and I took a water hose and ran it down the throat of that steer, about 4 or 5 foot of hose.  I held the head of the steer while dad ran the hose down its throat and dad was kind enough to stick that hose behind me and under my arm so that the gas coming off that steers stomach was coming right under my nose.  Dad just laughed.  Another time and much more funny was when we were draining gas off of a cows stomach we took a cigarette lighter and lit the gas.  It was like a torch.  Come to think of it one time Steve Chrisco and a bunch of us guys were at my house and it was dark and we were passing gas, in the dark, then lighting it.  What a gas.  Get it
2. One more gas story.  One time we had a cow that was so bloated that we were concerned she would die if not remedied immediately.  So I remember Dad taking a knife and driving it into her side and into her stomach to get the gas out.  It worked and in this case we did have a veterinarian come out to fix her back up.
3. Infection in a cow - we did not need a prescription or a doctor to figure that out.  We just bought some antibiotics and gave her a shot as necessary.  
4. Stomach problems was generally diagnosed as worms so we took these giant pills about 3 inches long and bigger around than your thump and forced down their throat.  

Now I did not mention it but we helped hogs and sheep when having babies as well and we doctored them also.

So what did I learn in the Osage?

• it does not matter if you like it or not, you just do what you have to do
• don't complain about doing things, just get it done
• there are responsibilities for every person and I personally don't want to hear your excuses, get over it, get over yourself, have a great life and make it nice for someone else
• and my last thought which has been a theme for many many years, "give and give until you can give no more and then give some more and you will receive far more than you ever expected, but stop expecting anything"

Thanks for your time,
gary@thepioneerman.com

Home on the Range: Eddy Harris and I gardening

Home on the Range: Eddy Harris and I gardening

Eddy Harris and I gardening

Eddy Harris and thepioneerman.com

Well strange things happen when you leave the Osage.  I have not seen Terry and Teresa Stradal for ages (Teresa is a cousin from up in Kansas who married a farm boy who still likes to hunt and fish even though he is a dishonorable profession - banking, just kidding) and Saturday I ran into Teresea at Lowe's and today I ran into Terry.  Anyway Terry and Eddy were best friends as adults in Eddy's last few years hear on earth with us.  Seeing them reminded me of another adventure of growing up with Eddy.

Vea and I in her backyard

Vea, Eddy's mom, loved to garden and she was particularly good at growing flowers.  She was also one of those ladies who knew how to put up (that means can which means preserve) vegetables from the garden for the winter.  They also had a root cellar (a whole in the ground that was built like a small underground house to store food for the winter and to hide in during tornado storms) where she put up about everything you can imagine from the garden; green beans, corn, okra, water melon Rhine, pickles (cucumbers which are preserved or pickled, another story) and they could be sweet or dill or bread and butter pickles.  There were lots of things not mentioned but she knew how to process everything she grew to save it for the winter.

Vea was also one of those ladies like my mom, Opal Olson, who were members of the Home Demonstration Club (ask Jeri Rash Robertson).  Well one time they were having one of their meetings and Eddy and I were about 5 or 6 years old and pretty smart for our age.  We figured that those little mints that are in the candy dishes around the house for the ladies to chew on to keep their breath from stinking could be a very profitable business.  So Eddy and I took all the candy and headed for the garden where we took a hoe (not to be confused with the slang term and besides we would not know what that was)and dug a few long rows in the garden where we did just what we saw our moms do when they wanted to grow something.  We figured that if we grew these mints we could become rich and everybody needed mints.  We planted those mints and covered them up then watered them just like our parents.  Weren't we smart?  You would think that parents would reward their children for being so resourceful.  Not ours!  They yelled at us and asked what we thought we were doing.  We explained to them what we thought and they splained to us what they thought.  You may think that splained is not a word but let me explain the difference.

Explained means to make it clear what someone is thinking

Splained means to make it clear with a spanking that you need to remember what was explained so that next time you will not forget and need a splaining, get it?

By the way did I mention that Eddy and I had some toys and in particular a Tonka truck which we decided to plant like potatoes in a hill.  We did not provide this information to our moms as they did not seem in the mood to learn from us about growing truck in the garden.  Surely you have heard of truck gardening, haven't you?  They needed some education but we did not feel it was our responsibility to teach them as they were bad students.  They were just too old to learn!

What do you learn in the Osage?

•  If you plant it, it will grow!  Maybe not.
• Splaining is a good way to learn and teach
• Entrepreneurs don't quit when splaining occurs but they keep on keeping on
• Truck farming is in California and Texas and Florida but not the Osage
• Great friends should never be taken for granted and I miss Ed

Thanks for your time,
gary@thepioneerman.com

Cattle Guards and Pickups

Cattle guard

Cattle guards are common items in the Osage and provided lots of entertainment and learning experiences as well as an easier way to get somewhere.

Cattle guards are openings from one open pasture to another where a road would wind through an area and the cattle could roam back and forth across the road which is where it got its name "open range".  Probably the best description of open range is "there are no fences".  The cattle guard prevented cattle from crossing because it was a series of pipes welded together with about four inches between each pipe.  The cattle would not walk across it because their feet would get stuck in between the pipes but it allowed cars and trucks to cross.

Johnny may recognize this cow?

Now as long as we mentioned trucks I want to straighten something out that has bothered me my entire life.  In the country we have pickups and trucks.  Pickups are what just about everybody drives and they are called Fords or Chevys and they are 1/2 ton and 3/4 ton pickups.  What they are not is c10 chevy (small letters because it is small) or Tundra but it can be a Dodge.  It is not a Cadillac or SUV or Toyota or Subaru.  Now I know I POed some of you (remember POed means put out) but you need to get over it and stop calling a F150, F250, F350 or C1500 or C2500 a truck.  They are pickups and Toby Keith has got me calling my F150 a truck so you can see he has screwed up my head as well.  Oh ya, you probably don't know that one of our famous Shidlerites has worked with Toby since before he became famous, Billy Eden.  Now Billy as I remember can play a good guitar and a base but other than that the only thing I know about him is his sister was pretty dog-done good looking and they ran the Dixie Dog.  If I need to explain then you need to drop me a line (that means email me stupid).  My wife does not like me using that word but she is asleep.

Back to the cattle guards.  One of the great things about them is you needed to know the nature of the cattle guard because if you were driving too fast you could wind up hitting the top of the roof.  In fact my dad, Cliff Olson, got his neck xrayed when he was about 75 years old and they asked him if he had ever broken his neck.  Dad said not that he remembered but when he was in his 20s he was crossing a cattle guard going into Tanny and Nanny Olsen's ranch and he bounced so hard he hit his head on the roof of the pickup.  He was sore for several weeks but got over it.  Now that I think about it if he had done that today there would be at least two lawyers who would make several thousand or hundreds of thousands of dollars and an insurance company would have paid out their rear-end and dad would have been rich.  The catch was back then dad knew he was at fault for driving too fast and you don't file a lawsuit because you don't like their cattle guard.  That means take responsibility for your own actions.  It is about character.

Another thing cattle guards remind me of and that is Mr. and Mrs. Art Jacques.  I should mention that Art has a brother named Jim and there is a story coming about them as well.  But anyway, when you went to the Jacques there seemed to be lots of cattle guards and gravel roads with cattle that you had to watch out for but the great thing was Mrs. Jacques was and I am sure still is a great cook.  Now I could mention the reason I got to go there was because of Dave and AJ but actually their folks were genuine people and wonderful to be around.

They were just like the rest of us in that there was always hay to haul or cattle to work (if you need a definition go back to the early stories).   But one time I was over there working cattle and in particular branding cattle.  They had something we never had and that was an electric branding iron.  The problem with an electric branding iron is you don't put it back in the fire to get hot but you  just hang it somewhere until you are ready to use it again.  So far this makes no since to you but I was working the shut that day and someone hung the iron on the shut.  It was white hot and when my right hand hit it I was branded with the Jacques brand.  In fact you can still see the scar today.  Now I know what those young calves felt like when they got branded.  It smelled like burnt flesh and it was oozing like crazy but not bleeding much.  So today anytime I see that scar I think about the good times and I really do mean good times working cattle and being with friends in the Osage.

What did I learn in the Osage?

•  don't drive too fast over a cattle guard
• take responsibility for your actions not give them to someone else
• Put a lawyer out of work and make America a better place, just kidding Kermit and Rollin

Thanks for your time,
gary@thepioneerman.com

The Easter Story - by David McCollum class of 65

 

From the publisher

BY DAVID MCCOLLUM

The Easter story

Christ’s resurrection gives all people hope that, through our faith, ‘good’ can triumph


This weekend, many Christian churches across our city, our nation and throughout the world will be filled as congregations celebrate Holy Week and Easter, the most important holiday of the spiritual calendar.

The powerful Easter story commences as Jesus is betrayed by his friend Judas.

Jesus is immediately arrested and placed on trial before a judge who was ordered by fearful government leaders to ensure that the “King of the Jews” would be found guilty.

Following the directed guilty verdict, Jesus was subjected to the most brutal and horrific treatment one can imagine, including public humiliation, mocking, torture, crucifixion and subsequent death while nailed to a wooden cross, among two common thieves, on a hillside near Jerusalem.

His broken body was laid to rest in a nearby tomb.

Jesus’ death was mourned by friends and followers who could not believe that their Savior and healer was no longer living among them. How empty their lives must have felt.

Three days later, Christ’s body had disap­peared from the tomb and was feared to have been stolen. However, a short time later, he re­appeared among his disciples and friends with his wounds still fresh. He proclaimed that the prophecies had been fulfilled, and that he had died for all the sins of man. After 40 days, Jesus ascended into heaven, giving hope of salvation for all believers.

What a joyful experience for those who were present at this miraculous event. Now, more than 2,000 years later, what a wonderful legacy we have received – the opportunity for a new beginning and the promise of eternal life.

The Easter story has been told many times, in many ways, from passionate sermons to solemn sunrise services to dramatizations, movies and music. Jesus’ innocence, fol­lowed by extreme brutality, concluding with the understanding that all our sins can be forgiven, provides a powerful emotional narrative that reminds us of our need for fidel­ity to our faith and to our fellow men and women.

In America, we have the opportunity to enjoy religious freedom, a privilege that is denied in many places throughout the world. As Christians throughout our great nation gather this weekend with friends and family to enjoy the celebration of Christ’s resurrec­tion and our traditional Easter feasts, we should all give thanks that we live in an incred­ible country where we are safe from much of man’s inhumanity to fellowmen.

Our country is not perfect, but there is no other place I would prefer to live. Accord­ing to a recent ABC News poll, 83 percent of Americans identify themselves as Chris­tians. Only 4 percent say they follow a non-Christian religion and 13 percent profess no religion. I am proud that the United States of America is an exceptionally tolerant country that provides non-Christian individuals and organizations the opportunity and freedom to express their spirituality without fear of government interference.

As Christians, Jaki and I pray for all Las Crucens to have a safe and blessed Easter weekend. May the spirit of Christ be with every American. God bless America.

Thank you David.

It's Friday and Sunday is coming!

gary@thepioneerman.com

The Barber Chair -- co-oped by Russell Whiles and me

 Love these hair cuts and remember these guys?

I will tell you about these signs later and I apologize I do not have a Phillips sign.

More memories...how many times did some of us sit on a board across the arms of the barber chair, in the shop on the corner where Don Chambers and Vol Parker cut hair? And the stories and general banter that bounced back and forth from chair to chair among the patrons...?  And do you remember that sometimes Don would cut your hair the way he wanted and not what you wanted?  I think he either talked to our parents without us knowing it or he just did not like long hair.  And if you go back and look in those year books of Coach Booher and Gilbreth or Coach Smith and Mr. Treadway and the list goes on but they had those butch hair cuts.  Now if you don't know what kind of hair cut that is let me explain.  Basically it is a burr/buzz but they leave about 1/2 inch in the front that you put some of the thickest wax (butch wax) to hold it straight up with just the top if long enough to fold back a little.   The girls loved it didn't they?  It was like Happy Days the TV show.

Boog but not with a butch hair cut  - close

 

Now that brings a story back to life.  Rance Howard the father of Oppie (not Doppie like my dog) who was the star of Happy Days graduated from Shidler.  And then there was Patty Page, Clara Ann Fowler, from Foraker and Ben Johnson from Pawhuska who worked on the Bill Lohman Ranch before Hollywood.  Any other actors from our parts?  Didn't Jimmy Houston's parents live in Grainola at one time?  He is the great bass fisherman.  Then there was Joe Ferguson from Kaw City that lived in the old Jim and Margaret Olsen's house north of Grainola.  Ok, OK, enough, but if you think of someone else let me know.

Does anyone recall an old doctor named Karasek, please help with the spelling on that name. Possibly he was an MD there in Shidler, or maybe he was a dentist down in Fairfax. I was in that dentist's office and enjoyed several doses of laughing gas, as a kid. (Russell remembered this one as my dentist was in Ponca).

Remember the personal service at the pump, at Cardy Bivins' station, out by the gasoline plant? Again, I need help with the name...just spelled Cardy like we always used to say it. He would always greet my sister and I with "Hi, Girls", just to get a rise out of me.  Now I know you are getting confused but this was from Russell and I like the way he wrote it so I don't want to change it.  I remember the service you use to get from Cardy as well and in fact that was a great time to go to any service station.  This reminded me that I own a bunch of old gas signs and each of these generally stand about 20 feet tall.

These signs are about to go to auction as I do not  have a place to store them so if you are interested send me an email.

Anyway, what did you learn in the Osage?

•  all the news is at the barber shop
• men gossip just as bad as women
• when a person looks their best they will be their best and that is why we went to Don and Vol

Thanks for your time,
thepioneerman.com

Dog Days in the Osage -

Doppie - yes that is her name, kinda of like Oppie with a D

Well have you ever had a bad day?  I never would have guessed this one.  On top of everything else when I got home our dog was in pretty bad shape and we may have to put her down.  

This reminds me of my favorite dogs and I wish I could remember their names, I will ask Debbie and Larry.  Anyway the first one I remember was a cocker spaniel which was very hyper.  She ran the cattle and that was a problem and then she would chase the tires on the school bus and that would drive Don Conner and Bob Scott crazy.  Periodically she would disappear for a few days roaming up and down the creek looking for a boy dog if you know what I mean.  Come to think of it that reminds me of some goings on at school, guys and girls roaming up and down the halls.  Well not too long after that we would have puppies but not at school.

The first sign of puppies was you could sit in the house and listen real quietly and hear the pups crying.  Almost every time there were new pups they were born underneath the house.   Most folks today don't even know that when you built a house years ago there was a crawl space under the floor.  That was so you could run the plumbing and wiring under the floor and get under the floor if you needed to repair it and there were no air conditioner vents because there was NO air condition at our house.  Some of the uppity folks had window coolers, do I need to explain uppity.  The dogs liked it because when they were next to the fireplace it was cool in the summer and warm in the winter.  The mother would create a nest area and the pups were comfortable when she was gone hunting for food and water.  Well as soon as possible after we knew they were born I would crawl under the house never considering there were spiders and snakes under there as well and I would hunt for the puppies.  It was great fun as each day I would check on them and finally as I remember in about a week or two their eyes would open and they were about double their size when they were born.  That is when I would typically take them out from under the house and help the mother create a new bed so I could watch them closely.

Now I don't know about you but I never needed sex education to figure this whole thing out about where dogs and cats and cows come from.  And lets clear something up right now.  When we say cows we mean bulls, cows, calves, stears, heifers and not just females which are cows.  Now if I say cows have calves I mean a female, got it?  Anyway, it was obvious from the beginning that moms had em.  And yes, had em is a word with a space in it. 

 Now that we are on the subject of SEX I have a story to tell you about Bill Snyder.  If you remember Bill he was a little slow to talk and a little dry in his humor but when he said something it was funny.  I remember we had a family reunion after my folks moved to Perkins and Bill was there.  You probably remember how at family reunions after a giant meal everyone would start to quiet down a bit and just sit and look at each other.  Obviously Bill got bored a little and of course the TV was on and there was a football game going on but again that sleepy haze was in the room and no one was talking much.  Also about that time it seemed that every commercial on TV was about feminine hygiene and tampons.  So Bill chimes up and says, "Since everyone is so bored with nothing to talk about lets talk about the hot subject these days, Tampons".  My gosh!  Everyone woke up out of their haze and I personally laughed so hard I was in serious side pain.  Have you ever laughed so hard it hurt?

Back to dogs.  We always had a dog and most of the time when they got old somehow they would disappear and never return.  Dad always said it was because they got in fights with coyotes and lost.  I figured it was probably true since on occasion our dog would come back wounded from a fight.  Now that reminds me of school as well.  Hmmmm?  People act like wild dogs.  Boys over girls and girls over boys, at least that  was how it worked in the old days.  It was fun to see girls fight because they would scratch and claw and pull hair and call each other b_____.  Guys would just punch and wrestle then get up and go have a beer together when they decided the girl was not worth the fight or at least the pain.

Well we hope Doppie recovers tonight and we have given her some medicine to ease the pain.  She has been with us about 11 or 12 years.

What did we learn from the Osage?

•  Dogs are many times our best friends and we hate to lose them
• People can act worse than your dog and you probably can trust your dog more than people
• Love your dog and love people and don't give up on them 
• I don't drink but I might start tonight - it was a bad day
• the secret to having a bad day is getting up one more time than you get down

Thanks for your time,
gary@thepioneerman.com

Rocket Science - Shidler Style

I have had the extreme pleasure of getting together with David and Jaki McCollum and Martha Berman McNeese for lunch at Louie's in Edmond.  David is not as skinny as he used to be and neither am I for that matter.  Marsha is as delightful as I could ever remember.  You see they were both about 5 years older than me and I just remember Martha as that pretty girl at the soda counter at Berman's Drug Store.  Well we got to talk a lot about our love for Shidler, the Osage, Denoya and all the folks that made up the community.

We all agreed that when the movie theatre burned down it was a sign of what was to become for Shidler where old businesses and a lot of history moved away.  But what was encouraging was the memories of what those old buildings, teachers and lessons of the Osage did to us and for us.

Marsha talked about riding on the oil well pumps and we joked that the reason people should not do that today is they were not raised riding on those pumps and just did not know how to do it.  I do have to say it is dangerous but just about everyone I knew had tried it.  Janis Harris and I laughed about the same thing a few weeks earlier.  By the way she also falsely accused Eddy (her brother) and Jon Tanny and I of mischief.  We will all pause and pray for her forgiveness of false accusations.

Anyway David who has a perfect memory, so don't argue the facts with him, talked about climbing the water tower only to find the staircase secured at the top with just one strand of wire.  The realization of the near death experience invited him and his accomplices to add wiring to secure the stairs.  Now the great thing was they painted on the tower not realizing that when you get back down to earth those letters are dramatically smaller than when you are standing there painting.  Criag Lotz put a scare into them as they heard a voice calling out to them asking what were they doing.  Of course as most of us would do, they assumed it was Charlie Doty, the local police authority, and it scared the c__p out of them.  But instead it was Craig, the Crescent Pharmacist today, who was standing down there yelling.

But back to that rocket science.  Delores Van Camp the valedictorian of 1965, who was just smarter than a whip, wrote a math/engineering and computer language  book and worked on the space program or maybe it was rockets.  She was also one of the first female PHD's in electrical engineering in the country and worked for the Pentagon and the Navel Academy and prior to that she worked at Los Alamos.  If that does not make you proud of Shidler and all those teachers and doesn't it make you wish teachers could teach and inspire without fear from over government regulations.  In those days the students feared the teacher not the teacher feared the students, the government, the documentation, and just all the bullcrap.  I am not sorry for for saying that but Thank YOU DeLores Van Camp for one more person inspired in the Osage who became successful.  You inspire us to reach new heights, kind of like a ROCKET.  Hum, think, think!

I don't  know about you but I am 58 years old and inspired to keep on keeping on.  This reminds me of a story to end this.

When my dad was 87 and two days before he went to the hospital which was the beginning of the end of a great life he came to our house west of Edmond.  At that time he and mom lived in Perkins, OK and we lived on a farm between Penn and May on 178th St in North Edmond commonly known as "The Pumpkin Patch".  Well dad was like the great Winston Churchill, he NEVER NEVER QUIT.  You see that morning he decided he was going to get my gas weed eater and go weed eat around our place, 80 ACRES! HOW RIDICULOUS!  I told him he was not going to do that because I would be embarrassed to have an 87 year old man out weed eating my place and if someone saw him I would be in trouble for abuse or something.  He stuck out his tongue at me and said, "Piss on You" and he went to work.

Well I don't know about you but what the Osage had to teach me was and is amazing:

•  If you are like me you have not done a great job of keeping those old friends connected but I challenge you to enjoy and rekindle those relationships
• Things are not what this life is about but those experiences and what you give back to others is what you will be remembered for, think about it and leave a legacy
• You can do anything you want if you put your mind to it, including being a rocket scientist

Thanks for your time,
gary@thepioneerman.com

Golf Balls over the Barn

Now everyone has to learn how to play golf at some time but I was almost forced to after my freshman year at Shidler.  You see during a track meet at Newkirk I decided I wanted to try the broad jump and no I am not talking about a woman but a track meet.  Now if you know anything about physics a 210 lb. boy at 6 ft. 2 in. runs slow and should never try running then jumping and landing without some idea of the potential consequences.  Well this boy did and it messed me up bad.  By the time we got home that day I could not walk so they took me to the chiropractor in Shidler.  I forgot his name but I believe his office was next door to Berman's Drug store.  He decided that I needed to go to Tulsa to see an orthopedic surgeon. Well Dr. Maoza (not sure how to spell it) ended my football career and I was very depressed about it. 

So my parents got me started playing golf.  I took lessons over at the Ponca City Country Club.  One of the first things i did was purchase about 250 practice balls and and old 8 iron.  There are positive and negative aspects of this as when you live on a farm there are plenty of places to hit balls but the problem is finding them.  After surveying the landscape I figured the best probability was hitting the balls from our front yard toward the hay barn which was a good 100 yards from the house.  We kept things pretty neat and mowed around the barns and house so I had a good chance of finding the balls.  One thing to note if you ever find a good farmer you will probably find a very neat and well kept set of barns and equipment.  I even remember in the round barn we had dirt floors and dad would have me sweep it about once a week so it would look neat.  Think about that, sweeping dirt on a dirt floor, does that make since?  Anyway farmers have a lot of pride in what things look like.  Most times you will find a farmer has a lot more money in the combine or barn than their house.

Anyway, back to golf.  I hit thousands of balls at that barn and anyone that came to the house generally hit balls with me.  In fact I got where I could consistently hit over the barn and into the cattle pens.  Now if you don't know, cattle pins don't have any grass and very few weeds because it is full of composted and fresh cow manure.  Do I need to explain?  Well it was easy to find the balls but sometimes they were green from the manure.  You should clean that off before you hit the ball again as it will splatter, believe me I know.

Well the best thing about this entire deal was that I got to play golf with Becky Sharp at the Shidler Golf Course.  She was actually very athletic and a great golfer.  The golf course had sand greens, go figure that one out.  Well she was a delightful person and sadly just before the sophomore year she moved to Texas as her dad got transferred.  We wrote each other for a couple of years until we both started to get distracted by school and other things.

Well if you have never played golf on sand greens you need to go to Shidler and try it out.  It is a great experience and the wind can make you look really good if you are hitting the ball with the wind down hill. 

Well what did I learn?

•  Obviously to play golf
• Sometimes being handicapped makes you a much better person and you learn to appreciate what you lost, football
• When you cannot have what you want, football, it makes you a better football player when you get it back
• Don't feel sorry for yourself but persevere and look for a new opportunity

Thanks for your time,
gary@thepioneerman.com

My first and last bow and arrow - one heck of an egg head

Preston on one of my tractors

I loved being a cowboy but I really loved being an Indian with my bow and arrow I got for Christmas when I was about 7.  Now if you never had one let me tell you it is very difficult to pull back the string with the arrow in it.  In all those movies I don't believe they used much of one because they pulled back too easy.  Anyway, it was a killer getting the string on the bow as the bow is normally straight and you have to step over it and hold between your legs while you use all your weight to bend the bow and latch the string on.  Then the fun begins.

I always strained to pull back that string and mount an arrow but the worst part was when you let it go and that dad-gum string fired up your arm holding the bow.  Your arm would be beat red and the more arrows you shot the more timid you got.  But after a while you adjusted so not to have that happen.   Well the best part about living on the farm is there were lots of targets and most of them you did not want mom and dad to know about.  Don't tell anyone we shot holes in the barn.

My favorite target was shooting straight up in the air and then making sure when the arrow started on the way down it did not stick in my head.  I never did get hurt but it came pretty close many times.  Another favorite was shooting at rabbits that were escaping from the hay fields as we cut hay.  Now the way that worked as you cut hay you start on the outside of the field (about 80 acres) and you cut in circles.  The field gets smaller and the circles get smaller and the rabbits keep moving toward the middle so that when dad was cutting the hay and he got right down to that last half acre the rabbits started running everywhere.  It was next to impossible for me to hit one of those rabbits so many times I would just lay down the bow and arrow and chase the rabbits.  It is amazing that the Indians would not starve to death unless they were better shots than me. 

Now another great opportunity was taking a gallon of gasoline and setting it out about 50 feet then tying a piece of cloth to the arrow tip.  At that point I would light the cloth and proceed to take shots at that gallon of gasoline.  It was actually a lot of fun when you got a hit as there would be a significant explosion and a ball of fire.  As I remember Dad just laughed and boy was I glad.  I think Dad had a real ornery streak in him. 

Now there were many targets but Eddy Harris and I seemed to always be attracted to the chicken house.  We would gather up eggs and head to the hay barn where we would set up our targets and have at it.  I don't know how many eggs Eddy and I broke over the years but it was a big number.  I would say in was in the few thousands.  You may remember in one of my earlier stories when Eddy and I were throwing eggs just as dad came into the hen house.  Eddy knocked dad's hat off and we got in big trouble.

We never did try to shoot at each other which was a good thing since we probably would have killed each other.  We had too much fun together.  Did I mention the time we took five gallons of Orange Allis Chalmers paint (Allis Chalmers is a brand of tractor) and we painted every tool and item we could find in the barns at Eddy's house.  I bet you today, 50 years later, you could still find a remnant of our good times.  Kind of like in Isaiah where God promises the Jews that He will preserve the remnant.  Maybe those tools are Jewish?

Oh well, what did we learn?

• Gravity - what goes up must come down - we were natural born scientist
• We always knew eggs-actly what we were doing
• Orange is a Jewish color because He allowed us to preserve the remnant in Orange

Thanks for the time,
gary @thepioneerman.com

Springtime and Baseball

I am delighted to share this blog with David McCollum who has his roots in the Osage and Shidler and of course the oil camps.  David must have been one of those outstanding students of Mrs. Head and Miss Stebler as he now owns and publishes the Las Cruces Bulletin, Rio Rancho Observer, and Kirtland AFB Nucleus.  Whatever the formula those teachers had at Shidler it was great and lets give a little credit to great parents and community.

Here is one of his stories:

Shidler Baseball Park

Shidler Baseball Field

Photo by David McCollum

Springtime and Baseball

There was a time when every young boy’s goal was to grab his bat and glove for a game of baseball

                At the age of 10, I was certain that at some point in the future, I would play major league baseball.  Of course, at that time, there were no video games to play.  Pinball machines were illegal for minors because they were considered to be “gambling.”  Rural telephone connections were on “party lines” which meant that six to eight families were connected to the same phone line.  Cell phones were a futuristic concept found only in science fiction and Dick Tracy comics.  Few of us had televisions in our homes, and for those who did, the images were often “snowy” as our dads regularly had to climb upon our roofs to manually adjust the reception antenna.  As youngsters, it was up to us to use our imaginations to keep ourselves creatively occupied.

                There were about a dozen boys from ages eight to 12 who lived nearby in oilfield camps close to our crude baseball field that had been carved out of a somewhat level piece of cattle-grazing pastureland.  As youngsters, we all had one thing in common.  We loved baseball. 

Our heroes were Mickey Mantle, Stan Musial, Willy Mays, Duke Snider, Hank Aaron, Warren Spahn, Pee Wee Reese, Yogi Berra, Rocky Colavito, Al Kaline, Richie Ashburn and Roy Campanella.  We fervently collected and traded Topps baseball cards. For one cent, you could buy a single baseball card enclosed with a cardboard-like piece of pink gum in a wax paper wrapper.

Because you could not easily see through the wax wrapper, your penny investment was like a lottery.  Occasionally, you picked a star player.  However, more often you ended up with a “common” like Tex Clevenger, Jack Harshman or hundreds of other major leaguers whose names have been lost to obscurity over the years. The most valuable card at the time was a Mickey Mantle.  If you were lucky enough to have selected a package that included a “Mickey Mantle”, you were king of the mountain among your card collecting friends. To trade for a “Mickey Mantle” you likely had to give up at least five other All-Stars, a bunch of other select cards and probably some cash money as well.

                Card collecting and trading was entertaining.  However, our real thrill were getting out onto the dirt field and actually playing baseball, something we did almost every single day.  Two of my proudest possessions as a youngster were my three-fingered Stan “The-Man” Musial fielder’s glove and my 32-inch Mickey Mantle Louisville Slugger bat.  I can still recall the smell the freshly-oiled glove and the unique wood odor of the perfectly balanced ash bat.

Because we did not have enough players for two full teams, we invented a game we called “Work-Up.”  Among eight to 10 players we would draw straws to determine who would be the first three or four batters.  The rest of us would then race to our favorite position on the field.  The youngest and slowest were relegated to the outfield positions.

                The rules were simple.  The fielders played together against the batters.  When an out was made, the batter who made the out was sent to right field, and all the fielders moved up one position, rotating from right field to center field to left field to third base to shortstop to second base to first base to pitcher. Usually the batters had to furnish the catcher.  If a fly ball was caught, the fielder who made the catch traded places with the batter and no other fielders moved up.  The goal was to work your way up to be a batter, a position you maintained until you made an out.

                This was a great game.  We could play for hours.  The game was fair, because each participant, regardless of skill, had a chance to play every position.  There were no coaches.  There were no umpires.  Disputes were typically resolved by the oldest, strongest kid or the one who had brought the baseball.  If the owner of the baseball departed the game with his ball, the game was over.  As it turns out, “Work-Up” was a terrific game in which we not only were able to exercise, but we also learned about rules, mutual respect, communication, competition and getting along with one another. 

The baseball field was a great training ground for thousands of youngsters from my generation.  It was a time of dreams and great expectations.  And while, my childhood goal of playing major league baseball was not realized, I will never forget the lessons learned and the friendships made in those games of “Work-Up.” 

I would not trade those days for anything.

--------------------

 by David McColllum

Thanks for your time and especially thanks to David McCollum,

thepioneerman.com

Guts and Glory, and the Laws of Physics

I want to share this with you as it is from my new buddy Russell Whiles.  What is really amazing is we have never met but because we are from the Osage and are Shidler high grads we are bonded together with common roots.

by Russell

The huge maple tree that was in our front yard at the north end of Camp #32 was easy enough for most of the camp kids to climb. It was large enough to support a very substantial tree house, and one lovely summer, some of us boy carpenters tackled the design and production of a very respectable tree house, with hinged windows on all four sides, and a trap door to climb out onto the roof.

I really believe that the parents of the builders were amazed and maybe a bit proud of the project's outcome, although they never said so...we never asked permission to do the build, in the first place, and I know that ticked off my dad!  But it was done, and it was solid and served us well, that tree house. The fact is, our young inquisitive, industrious, explorer-type brains did not go into shut-down, upon completion of the tree house! There was more to be added...next project, please...

We needed, for whatever reason, a rope swing. A "regular" swing, ya think? Nope..a daring, exhilarating, FUN rope swing! Engineering as best we knew how, we judged how far out on a horizontal limb we needed to tie the rope to be able to slip off the tree house roof, drop straight down until the arc of the swing caught us and swooped our bodies pretty close to the ground and way up in the air on the other side. Looked good...somebody needed to try it out.

The loose end of the rope was through a board with a hole in the middle, rope knotted on the underside...that was the swing seat. So the rider was to slide off the roof in sitting position...that was my starting position, to do the test-ride. I knew the straight-down drop was going to be the highlight, the tummy-turning part of the ride, and I had guessed that exactly right, yes Sir!
Now, the engineering blunder...none among us were particularly heavy kids. Nevertheless, when one swings a bundle of weight in a long arc under a tree limb that is designed to bend in the wind, the centrifugal force of the swinging weight pulls the branch down...down just enough, thank God, that our swing seat and my rear end BARELY swished through the grass! No bruises, no scratches, maybe just a slight cardiac event....

It was a near miss, one of those self-concocted childhood thrills that add a bit of wisdom and a whole lot of thankfulness to be alive! I believe we did adjust that seat, a little further up the rope.

Thanks Russell.
What did we learn from this:

•  This reminds me when my kids were young and I would say that one stupid mistake can ruin your life - luckily this one turned into a good memory
• Creativity needs a little rope but too much could kill you - think about it 
• Friends are forever and our memories tie us together 

Thanks for your time,
gary@thepioneerman.com

Summer Baseball - If you build it they will come

Shidler Baseball Diamond

I get chill bumps thinking about the summer baseball games.  It was a relief from work on the farms and a time to enjoy SNOW CONES especially those cherry ones.  Back in those days I think we only had cherry and grape.  The evening cooled down and the lights would come on while the stands were filling with folks.  Cars were parked everywhere and right up to the fence if you were brave enough that a foul ball would not break out a window.  The entire town came out for the games.

Practice was all over Shidler and the area as each team was getting ready to compete.  Of course I was on the Grainola team and as I remember we did not win hardly any games but we had a great time.  My worst memory was having to face Steve Chrisco as he was the fastest pitcher and then there was AJ Jacques and Jim Whitt who hit about everything thrown at them.  PeeWee Robinson and Joe Center either hit every ball or walked as they was very difficult to pitch to.  I think that team was just stacked with great players.  Now that I think about it if the government controlled baseball we would dumb down the pitching so no one would have an unfair advantage or we would just use a pitching machine to even things out.  Then we would re-balance the wealth of talent by taxing (excuse me but I cannot resist) or taking away the advantage of talent by giving them fewer pitches to hit or making them use one arm to swing a bat.  Yes, lets take away competition by making more rules to protect those who had less talent like my team in Grainola.  I could just about make myself mad thinking like this.

Back to baseball.  I remember my brother playing on a team with Kenny Kelsey, Jimmy Butterfield, and a host of others I wish I could name. Dads were everywhere helping their sons get ready.  I remember Gene Arrington, my cousin, working with Rocky, his son,  who was great at second baseman and I think it was shortstop.  Rocky was quick and accurate while his mom and sis Connie and Steph yelled from the stands.  Now just in case you did not figure this out, Gene, Connie, Rocky and Steph are all my cousins.

But just a couple of side notes here.  I remember Jimmy being a side arm pitcher and was next to impossible to hit.  Also my brother pitched some and in fact had one game with no hits.  I looked up to these guys.  Oh ya, and wasn't the Butterfields the ones who raised all those black diamond watermelons?  Was that the same place that Kenny and Boog and some others borrowed some watermelons from one night?  Maybe not.

Anyway that team went to Chandler for a regional tournament and I remember Lawrence Diehl (the grocery store owner) sponsored that team.  Also Chandler was where they had the baseball camps and there were baseballs everywhere.  Isn't it funny what you remember the most sometimes?  That was the first time I had ever stayed at a hotel and our entire family went.  From there the team went to Elk City where we lost to Elk City who became the state champs.  That also was the farthest I had ever traveled up to that point in my life.  A side note:  I ate my first store bought chicken fried steak there in Chandler and when I was trying to cut it the thing flew off my plate with gravy and all onto my nice pants and shirt.  I was humiliated and ruined for life.

Gosh, I think I could go on forever on those summer baseball memories and I would love to get a few from you.

What did I learn from Baseball in the Osage:

• Winning is not everything but it beats losing all the time
• Because someone else has better talent or is smarter does not mean that they should be penalized.  Tell that to the idiots making the laws.  If you make a law to protect one person you just took the rights of someone else away.
• Character is tested most when the going gets tough - our team had the most character

 Remember this:

• There are three kinds of people
• those who watch things happen
• those who make things happen
• and those who wonder what happened

Thanks for your time,
gary@thepioneerman.com

 Here are a few comments and memories I got back:

Hi Gary,

Russell Cottle commented on your link.

Russell wrote: "I'll pass along your hello when I see Rick and Linda, Gary. As I remember the 'traveling team' was also sponsered by Bob Divall (after Lawrence Diehl) and the team members varied but at one time included Mark Whitt, Jesse Garrison, Joe Payne, Larry Tucker, Larry Peterson, Don Walker, Denton Snow, and others whose names escape me right now. My youngest brother Randy became the 'batboy' and was even bought a uniform. One of Coach Gay's daughters was the 'ball girl'."

Cynthia Roeder Reese commented on your link.

Cynthia wrote: "No, My Dad is J.D. Roeder. My dad and several of the Phillips Petroleum guys volunteer to coach little league baseball. Denton was one of the players in that league that he coached. We at one time lived in 88 Camp and our next door neighbors were Hank and Vivian Snow so we grew up next to the Snows." 

Hi Gary,

Cynthia Roeder Reese commented on your link.

Cynthia wrote: "Not far from where I grew up and my parents still live near it. Remember riding my bike to the baseball games and hoping to catch a foulball. A couple of times I went and rode my bike back to Camp 66 in the dark."

Hi Gary,

Russell Whiles commented on your link.

Russell wrote: "Denton and I were in the same grade in school. Been a while since our paths have crossed...last I knew, Denton was a post office employee. My own dad, Charlie, was a little league coach for several years, too! Great memories, guys!"

Russell Cottle commented on your link.

Russell wrote: "Brings back a few memories. I played on Lawrence Diehl's traveling team. Delbert Gay was the coach. We were the PK&O league champs several years in a row.Went to Chandler, Elk City, Claremore and Tulsa. Fun times!" 

 

Marcus B. Whitt II commented on your link.

Marcus wrote: "Our Dad, Mark Whitt, coached a bunch of us during summer baseball over the years. He was a major force behind the ball field being redone by Phillips. The ball field that was east of the Moser's place."