Oklahoma always seemed to have plenty of storms.  When the pressure dropped and a storm appeared imminent, mom would always say “head to the cellar”.  One day, I went to the cellar, before anyone else.  Rushing down the short flight of stairs, I confronted an Indian chief, sitting in the corner of the cellar.  Chief Redbird presented a worse situation than the storm, and I quickly retreated to the top of the stairs.  When mom came out she took me back to the cellar with her. She always had some Palm leaves from Palm Sunday and a pie tin.  At the height of the storm, she would burn the Palm leaves and pray the rosary.  Evidently the power of prayer must work, as we always survived the wrath of the storms.

I remember one particular storm.  It was so dark that day turned into night. The storm was so great, it produced eleven inches of rain, in a short period of time.  The field, above the cow lane to the east pasture, was planted in corn.   The heavy rains gathered up the corn stalks and washed them against the wire fence, of the cow lane to the east pasture.   The cow lane yielded under the pressure and took both sides of the woven wire fence, stretching it the full length of the field.  The sun returned after the passing of the storm.  I couldn’t understand how night became day again.  The aftermath left a mass of wire, corn stalks, and dead animals (rabbits and birds) in the south field.  The stench wasn’t a nice thing to smell.  It took days to straighten out this mess.  Rains of this nature were not uncommon, in Oklahoma.  With the watershed of the North Canadian River, extending all the way to the Oklahoma panhandle, the road to town was always flooding out.  We were forced to take an alternate route, to get to town.  We used the Ellison bridge which was east and south.  The basin, below this bridge, was deeper which allowed passage during high water.  The flood of 1923, was the one to remember.  That flood was so devastating, it prompted the formation of a flood control board.  It consisted of every township along the watershed.  They were able to have dams built on the watershed.  The Wolf Creek was the first project.  Fort Supply was built in l940.  Canton dam was built and completed in 1947.  Optima was completed in 1978.  These dams were successful in controlling the flooding of the North Canadian river. The history of these projects, and members responsible for them, can be found on the south end of the Canton dam.  This information is recorded in a granite stone.

We would also get heavy rains in the fall.  Moisture, from the Gulf of Mexico, would collide with the cold air from the north.  On the heals of the fall rains, would come the first signs of winter.  Ducks and geese, migrating south, would fill the sky with loud quacking.  Cold nights would make cutting wood from the east pasture a weekly chore.  Wood cutting was done on Saturday morning.  After this was done the family would go to town.  Dad knew that the wood chore would be completed in short order because of this.  A crosscut saw , about six feet long, was used.  It required two men pushing and pulling the sharp teeth of the saw.  Positive action quickly cut the branches into stove size pieces of wood.  We loaded them in a wagon and hauled them back to the house.  They were then split into fourths, with an axe, to better fit into the stoves.

Mom could build an awesome fire.  Our stove was oval shape and sat on a fire proof sheet metal plate.  The front had a little snout, which could be opened, for a better draft.  The stove pipe had a damper, which controlled the smoke.  Once the fire was mostly red coals, the damper was closed to conserve the heat.  We played ping pong on the oak dining table, and every so often a ball would be sucked into the snout of the stove.  Mom would have the stove so hot, it looked like it was going to melt.  Cherry red was the term used to describe a roaring fire.  On the opposite side of the heating stove, was the kitchen.  A wood cook stove used the same chimney.  The cook stoves were square and had a canopy above the heating surfaces.  Charlie, fooling around, stuck his head in an angle supporting the canopy.  The stove had a good fire and was getting hot.  Dad got a butcher knife and said he would have to cut his ears off to get him out.  He wasn’t serious, but stressed a point to keep the rest of us from trying the same foolish stunt.

Winter always signaled the butchering of a fattened hog or beef.  A rifle was used to kill the animal.  This was done in the driveway of the granary.  A pulley, attached to a single tree, was used to hoist the animal off the ground.  A slit was made between the tendon and bone on the hind quarters of each leg.  The animal was raised, high enough to start the butchering.  Starting at the rear of the stomach the belly was opened up and the entrails were removed.  Of these the liver and heart were saved.  The animal was hoisted a little higher as the skin was removed.  After it was skinned and still whole, it was cut in half for easier handling.  Sharp knives were honed on steel during this process.  With the skin down to the head, it was sawed off.  The two halves were taken to the house, for the final processing.  After being cut into pieces, the meat was sugar cured and salt cured.  They were then taken upstairs and stored in a north bedroom, for future use.  Fresh pieces were eaten right away.  I can still savor the goodness of fresh pork tenderloin.

Beef was handled the same way.  It was usually divided among the neighbors as it was harder to preserve than pork.  Mom made mince meat for pies and sometimes pressure cooked and canned beef.

Hogs, when butchered, would yield plenty of tallow.  Tallow was rendered on an open fire, in a cast iron pot.  When the fat was reduced and the chitterlings skimmed off, lye was added, thus yielding soap.  We bought soap, for washing, made by Proctor and Gamble.  (PG).  We used a Maytag washer, powered by a gasoline motor.  If we didn’t have homemade soap, P&G was used.  They were basically the same.  Water was heated on a wood stove, for the washing machine.  A rub board was used sometimes for washing.  Wash days meant navy beans, a tin of sardines in tomato sauce, fried potatoes and homemade bread and butter.   We never seemed to have much juice on the beans.  Being the youngest, I was last to be served.  Robert took a lot of juice, with his beans, and said “daddy is first”.

While at school, I came down with the measles, and was told by the teacher to lay my head on the table.  I woke up and discovered that the 37 Chevy bus  had already  departed, which was on my route.  I was sick and crying and told by the teacher  to take the other bus.  That bus turned northeast a mile south of the Higdon Corner.  The driver dumped me off and I started walking home.  Lois met me on the way.  She was a sight for a sick and distraught boy.

Our classroom had a cloakroom, in the back, where we hung our outerwear.  A shelf on the top for lunches, and hooks underneath for clothing.  After being in school for a while, we were exposed to the head lice.  We went to church on Sunday and Mildred noticed we were doing a lot of itching.  When we got home an examination revealed the dire truth.  We indeed had head lice.  The treatment started and we were as clean as we had ever been.  Mildred, being a girl, had a nice head of hair.  She was fearful of getting them herself.  Mother went to the school and complained about the lice.  Examinations followed and it was taken care of.  One kid, who had lice, shaved his head.  He wore a stocking cap to hide it, but had to remove the hat at school.  Everyone gave him a hard time about it.  Between an old teacher, too young and many illnesses, my first year was miserable.  I was advanced to the second grade, but failed.  I had to take it over, which was to my advantage.

The older kids would roll up toilet paper and smoke it like cigarettes.  This was done in the outhouse, behind school.  The high school offered basketball and wrestling.  The grade school formed a band, with sticks and cymbals.  I played the sticks.  This was country school introduction to music.

Having an inventive mind, I found a board which was used to bind wood shingles together.  It had a nail on one end of it.  I placed one end on a brick and a small pebble on the other end.  Using my foot, I flipped the pebble into the air.  In the process the board somehow hooked into my upper lip.  Mr. Fore, the superintendent, took me to El Reno and Dr. Johnson sewed it up and gave me a tetanus shot.  Mrs. Fitzgerald, had made it back from lunch, late as usual.  She told me to lay head on the table, until the bus would run.