We always knew when winter was passing and spring was in the air.  The dust bowl of the thirties still showed its teeth in the forties, stirring up the tilled and unmanageable fields.  World War 2 was in full swing by now, following the attack on Pearl Harbor, December 7, 1941.  President Roosevelt said, “I don’t want war, Eleanor doesn’t want war, my dog doesn’t want war.  But if they want war, then we will give them war”.  It seemed as though every one in the country had a person serving in the military.  Our family was too young at the time, for military service.  Robert was drafted in 1944, when he got out of high school.  The United States was not prepared for war.  It took a supreme effort to marshal equipment and draftees for military service.  

Canadian county became an integral part of the operation.  Army Air Corps established training bases at Mustang and Cimmaron air fields.  A prisoner of war camp was established north of the federal reformatory, at El Reno.  The short cut to the farm, through Fort Reno, was closed during the war.  Farm boys were being trained as pilots and other branches of the military.  The training planes, having dogfights, would sometimes lose cushions from the open cockpits.  We would find them in the fields on the farm.  The pilots practiced takeoffs and landings.  They started at Mustang Field, touched down at Fort Reno and at John Hufnagle’s farm, west of Okarche.

It was during this time that we got our first tractor.  It was steel wheeled Farmall, by McCormick Deering.  The steel wheels and the sandy farm were a poor combination.  We were always getting stuck in the sand.  Dad removed the wheels and had a rim welded, to it, for rubber tires.  This worked much better.  We were able to use the tractor, to better advantage.  Dad let Jimmy and I ride a drill, so we could see if the seeds were coming out of the drill box.  We enjoyed doing this.

The first of July 1941 was a sad day for the Higdon family.  Fred Allen barely 2 years old died.  He had fallen off a chair and broke his arm.  He was bitten by a blister bug and became ill.  He had his arm set and appeared to be doing well.  After he was bitten, he became ill and got progressively worse.  He was running a fever and went into convulsions.  He was burning up with fever.  They put him in a wash tub, filled with ice water, to combat the fever.  This proved to no avail and he died.  I remember the house being full of people, and the altar society and friends bringing food in.  Being small, Jimmy and I went to the milk house and cracked black walnuts to occupy ourselves.  Mother was never the same after Fred died.  I think she had a nervous breakdown, under all the strain.  After a period of readjustment, we got on with our lives.  We were busy on the farm and were preoccupied with our everyday tasks.  My folks always said it was more difficult to lose a child, than some one older.  Mother said you usually dreamed about the dead one time.  You then could turn loose of their memory.  This was some Irish philosophy.  I think Fred probably had blood poisoning, from the broken arm.  If it had been today, with medicine and modern techniques, he would have probably survived.

We enjoyed many good times with the relatives at Okarche, as well as our friends at Calumet.  Sundays, a day of rest, usually found us at Powell’s or the Moberley’s, for cake and ice cream.  Easter Sunday, after church, we usually went to uncle Joe Schaefer’s  for dinner and an egg hunt.  Joe was always ready for a good time after the Lenten season.  We used real eggs, dyed for Easter.  We visited with Fred and Emma Reimers quite often.  They always had roasting peanuts, on the wood stove.  Nicky Reimers was always riding a hog.  He would mount up, holding on to a tail and ear.  This worked fine until he got a piece of wire in one eye.  I don’t know if it put his eye out, but it impaired his vision.

Christmas was always neat too.  Lois would get the older boys to cut a cedar tree from the east pasture.  It was set up in the living room, and decorated with strings of popcorn and berries.  When we got electricity, around 1940, we had electric lights, about 6 bulbs.  The Christmas I remember most, was Santa bringing apples, oranges, nuts and candy.  He stomped on the porch.  We went out on the porch and there sat a wagon full of good things to eat.  Jim and I got a pair of jersey gloves that just fit our small hands.  I curled up in the wagon and was sleeping soundly, when they woke me up for Midnight mass.  The wagon and the warmth of the wood fire, made it easy for me to drift off to slumber land, wearing my new gloves.  Christmas day would find us at the Hufnagles.  Aunt Mildred, my godmother, always baked a guinea hen, sugar cookies and a large dishpan full of fruit salad.  The guinea hen was brimming with dressing and had a robust flavor.  It probably tasted better, because we didn’t have food like that very often.  I think the joy of the season and the love of my favorite aunt, enhanced the taste.  The families all had kids near the same age, which made visits special.

The John Heinen home was our salvation, when we required a doctor’s care.  Dr. Milton Neumann had an office in Okarche.  He also had an office in El Reno and did surgery at the El Reno Sanitarium.  We visited the Heinen’s , Aunt Margaret and Richard Grellner, who lived east of Okarche.  Grandma Mary Higdon lived in Okarche also.  She passed away August 18, l943.  Her home was on Highway 81, two houses north of the Okarche clinic.  We visited John and Leona Schaefer and Joe and Margaret Schaefer.  The Hufnagles and Joe and John Schaefer were closer to our farm.  We visited them more often because of this.

John Hufnagle heated their home with a large coal furnace located in the basement.  The boys would go down in the basement and stoke this furnace.  They also had a wood burning fireplace, which they used at Christmas.  The upstairs had no heat and was always cold.  They had wooden stilts, to walk on, which was fun.  A piano was in the ante room, and we pecked around on.

In the middle of all this tranquility, World War II was in full swing.  Soon members of our family were being drafted.  Meanwhile, we were farming and not doing to well raising row crops.  Dad was falling deeper in debt, with the bank at Calumet, and was finding it more difficult to make a loan.  The war caused a manpower shortage on the railroad and afforded an opportunity for a new start.  Kathleen Mansfield had given the children religious education.  Monsignor Kanaly also helped as pastor of St. Anthony’s church in Calumet.  El Reno had a Catholic school, Sacred Heart Academy, which mother thought would be good for us kids.  It was under these circumstances, we put the farm up for auction.  This was the fall of l943.  I think Grandma Higdon’s passing had a bearing, since dad inherited the home and 160 acres, where we lived.

I was glad to return to the farm at Calumet.  The move to El Reno was drawing closer and we had to vacate the farm by January 1, 1944.  Charley Whitley, who had bought the farm, was eager to take possession.  The auction took most of the animals and machinery.  We kept some cows, chickens a tractor and some implements.  We rented ten acres in the south west part of El Reno.  It consisted of a house, barn and brooder house.  Mom, dad and Charlie went to El Reno, to prepare the house, for the move.  A blizzard developed that day.  Coming back to the farm was impossible and the spent the night at the Combs, south of Calumet.  Robert was in charge of the family, at the farm.  We were low on supplies and firewood and had packed for the move, the next day.  The next day came and the weather cleared.  John Hufnagle came with his truck and transported us to El Reno.  Everything fell into place.  My youth and the Calumet farm became past history.  Ten acres was different than the 160 acre farm.  Our new house, though small, had gas and water.  Like all children, we had to learn to live in a new environment.  Change from country to city seemed foreign, but we adapted to it quickly.