CV Memories

First Car by Morris Jones

2012-01-07T16:17:00.002-07:00

Jay D. Mills, in October, asked “What was your first car? Most guys are car lovers and usually like to talk about their first car. I expected a flood of responses and was disappointed when none appeared. So, I’ll step up and tell about my first car, a Whippet Six.

The event happened in Cedar Vale in the 1930’s. I was still in the early years of grade school. My Uncle Clarence (Marsh) was the Ford dealer. He took in the old 4-door sedan on trade. The Great Depression had ruined the market for cars, especially older ones with such features as oak spoke wheels.

So, the Whippet was gifted to me as a non-moving plaything. We lived in a house on a corner – later owned by Don and Mary Bess Hankins – and had space between garage and barn to “hide” the old car.

As a youngster with an active imagination the car was, for me, at times not only a car, but an airplane, a speedboat, a truck, a submarine, and even a Buck Rodgers type rocket into the far reaches of outer space.

The Whippet created lots of good memories – and one not-so-good when I attempted to make the old car into something besides a permanent fixture. I somehow saddled one of my dad’s horses, tied a rope between saddle horn and Whippet’s bumper, and yelled “Giddy Up!”

Fortunately, the horse didn’t move – but my dad sure moved when he heard me. He came running and gave me a chewing out I still remember.

Morris Coburn Jones, 07 Jan 2012

Comment Republished - Old Lumber Yard

2012-01-03T17:38:00.002-07:00

This just came in from Don Shaffer and I doubt that many people are looking back to October, so I thought I would publish it. By the way, Gary started this blog...I just try to help keep it going.

Don Shaffer said...: Hello, everyone! Just got on the new CV Memories webpage! Great job, J.D.! Gary, I'm sure you are in on it, too!

It was a jolt to hear about the lumber yard. My Dad, Clyde Shaffer, was manager of the yard for many years. I spent many memorable moments at the yard, first playing among the rafters, riding wild, stick horses through the sand, hide and seek in the roofing shed.... and then, coming home in the summer from college, pulling weeds between the tiles! My Dad was a great teacher! Never get too big for your britches to prevent me from "real work," regardless of form! I'm going to stop there. Seems my eyes/glasses are misting over. No rain in sight. Must be something else. Check with you later!!!!!; January 3, 2012 4:48 PM

Uncle Dana McGill

2011-12-23T15:39:00.003-07:00

My uncle Dana McGill was an older brother of my mother, Nellie McGill Mills. When I was 7 years old we moved into Cedar Vale from the farm on Otter Creek north and west of town. Uncle Dana and my grandmother Julia lived two houses up from the Methodist church. My grandmother Mills lived between the McGills and the church.

I remember when Uncle Dana got one of the first televisions that I had ever seen. It was small and had a round tube, even though the picture was rectangular (I think). The picture would sometimes go out of adjustment and he would ask me to come down and play with the controls on the back until it straightened out again. This sometimes took a half-hour or more.

Uncle Dana also had an old Model A Ford roadster. Sometimes he would take me for a ride in his car and that was always a treat for me. I remember at least one trip to Hoosier to look around the site of the old train depot and other places that he remembered. As others have mentioned, he had a fantastic memory and recalled many things that were interesting to a young lad.

I really appreciate the articles and tid-bits that many of you have contributed about Dana. He was certainly an interesting man...and my uncle.

Happy Holidays from Panama. I'll hang some lights on a banana tree, or a palm tree to celebrate.
Jay (J.D.) Mills

Story of 2 couples in Chautauqua County.

2011-10-19T19:09:00.000-06:00

I am posting this, as I am sure there are those out there who love history and getting a glimpse into the what life was like in another time period. The woman in this story was evidently destined to be a widow rasing children. I can not even imagine the difficulties faced daily.

I always enjoy some light reading while munching on lunch. This day I chose the “Cedar Marriages of 1889” to read. 5 Hours later I “came to” (in other words, got my nose out of the computer) & found that I had the story of 4 people buried in Cedar Vale cemeteries. They are not my family, just names that got my attention. The people were Hays, Higgins, Higgins, Higgins; two were Civil War Veterans.

30 April 1889 in Chautauqua County, it stated in Cedar Marriages of 1889, there was a marriage between Adam Hays 47 & Malinda Higgins 40.

After I read about the marriage, then I went to Find A Grave dot com. I wanted to see if this Adam Hays was buried in Cedar Vale. The the Headstone for the gentleman read Pvt A O Hays. He lived from 20 Feb 1841 - 24 Jan 1896. There was a notation that his name may have been Albert. The grave at Oak Hills Cemetery is for Adam Oliver Hays III, not Albert, who served in the Civil War, Co A 3rd Ind Cav. That man would live only about 7 years after the above mentioned marriage.
Then to Ancestry dot com for a Census.

The Census for Malinda Higgins was a Kansas Census (as opposed to a Federal Census) taken on March 1 1885 in Hendricks, Chautauqua Co. She was a 36 yr old widow, born in Indiana. She had 6 children from ages 1 to 18. Her youngest 2 children Maggie age 1, Elmer age 4, born in Kansas. Her older children George 16, Elizah 14, Lettie 11, & Ida age 18. all born in Indiana. All this information from one line of a census!!

Now for census on Adam Hays; same date, March 1 1885 Sedan. Adam is married to Mary, age 37. They have 6 children ages 7 mo to age 15, all boys - Amos 7 mo, Roscoe age 3, Walter age 6, Edwin age 11, Silas age 15.

Two years later, Mary is buried at Casement Cemetery at the age 39 yrs, 2 mos & 16 days 16 September 1887.

One year & 4 months later, Malinda Higgins & Adam Hays would marry. They have 12 children between them.
This begs two questions, who was Malinda's late husband, & what was maiden name of Adam,s wife, Mary J Hays.
One hint I kept running into was that Craig Switzerland County, Indiana was home of origin for all these individuals. Found the 1860 Census of Craig Switzerland County, Indiana that has the Higgins family. Mary J Higgins is 10, David Higgins age 17 are in the family of Elijah & Nancy (Campbell) Higgins. There is Adam's future wife & Malinda's future husband.
Now we have that Adam Oliver Hays III married David Higgins’s sister, Mary J. Higgins. Malinda Higgins was from same town, Craig Switzerland Co, Indiana. & her maiden name was READ. After the Higgins siblings passed away David's widow Malinda married her late husband's brother-in-law, Adam.
Sadly, Adam died about 7 years after he & Malinda married, leaving her once again a widow, & this time with 2 step-sons, Amos & Roscoe Hays. Malinda would live until 1934, & would be buried in Oak Hill Cemetery.

David is also buried in Oak Hill Cemetery. He served Co. H 6th IND INF.

I used 3 sources for my findings. One is “Find A Grave” & the other is “Ancestry”, both dot com. & the resource that started the 'hunt', Kansas Trails Chautauqua County Marriage Records, Book D 17 Feb 1889 -31 Dec 1891.

“You may ask,” This took 5 hours.???

My answer, yes, that is the way it is in the world of Genealogy.

It is like a puzzle, finding a piece of the puzzle & then finding where it goes in the puzzle.

There were so many stories out there on the prairies of Chautauqua County. This is just a small part of the lives of a total of 16 people.

Old Lumber Yard in Cedar Vale

2011-10-12T08:18:00.004-06:00

Sue Shaff, via e-mail to Don Cox, asked what the blog readers (that's you) remember about the old lumber yard that was recently wiped off the spot where it sat for many decades. She thought it would be interesting to recount the history of the building.

Please tell us what you remember? How many different businesses operated there over the years?

Guys & Gals -- What was your first car?

2011-10-08T18:03:00.004-06:00

My first car was a Model A Ford. I'm not sure of the year, but it was a 2-seater. By that I mean that it had a front seat and a back seat. I would have preferred a single seat coupe, but my dad brought it home from an auction somewhere so I had to be happy with what I got.

I was 16 or 17 years old and had been driving my mom's car since I was 14. So the Model A was a "step down", but it was mine and a great "toy". It didn't run very well and it overheated a lot. It did have a "sun roof".... that is the tar paper and chicken wire roof had a large hole that let in the sunlight.

It soon quit running and a local mechanic came by to look at it. The timing gear had broken and it was made of some kind of fiber, not steel. I was able to get a new replacement in Cedar Vale and got it running again, but it was strictly a "fair weather" local car and not suitable for long trips to Sedan or Ark City.

My first car was like one that I saw in the Cedar Vale Museum, but that one has an intact roof.

Then there was my first love, but that story is best left untold.

Via Email from Don Cox

2011-09-21T12:19:00.001-06:00

Floyd P. Call age 94 died a week ago. He made several entries to the blog and was an avid history buff.

He was able to go to Washington DC with his son Kieth to visit the WWII memorial as part of the Kansas "flights for the greatest generation" a few months ago. His son Dwight told me Floyd would be proud to be remembered on the blog. RIP Floyd

dfcox

The Day the Jet Landed in Cedar Vale

2011-09-19T09:35:00.002-06:00

I don't remember the exact year, but it was sometime around 1955 when a jet fighter plane landed near Cedar Vale. The plane was based in Wichita I believe, and was flying very high near Tulsa, OK when the engine quit. *If someone has better details please share them with us.

Although he could have landed safely in Tulsa, apparently he was ordered to "glide" to Wichita. He never made it that far and came down in a field just northwest of Cedar Vale. I don't believe the pilot was injured, but the plane had to be hauled away on a truck. It caused a bit of excitement at the time.

What other exciting stories are hiding out there?

Hooser

2011-08-21T06:43:00.002-06:00

This comment just came in and I thought it should be posted more prominently.

I am the grand nephew of Mike and Brady Meldrum and am currently in the process of developing a plan to restore Hooser. Does anyone have old photos? Old stories? Anything at all would be appreciated!
Mark Gilliland
713-303-9714
mdgilliland@gmail.com

Excitement in Old Home Town

2011-08-18T09:38:00.002-06:00

I see from a story in the Wichita Eagle from Wed., Aug. 17, that about 150 people had to leave their homes in Cedar Vale for a couple of days because gasoline leaked into the sever system. Apparently all is OK now. It also says that the population is down to "around 500".

This will likely not be news to locals, but most of us are located outside of the area. Thanks to Jim Hubbard for sending me the link.
http://www.kansas.com/2011/08/17/1977708/kan-residents-back-home-after.html?story_link=email_msg

One of the photos

2011-08-02T04:01:00.000-06:00

Here is one photo with some editing.

Post Cards of the early 1900's

2011-08-01T06:33:00.017-06:00

I have found Post Cards that have Cedar Vale postal stamps on them. From 1909 to 1916. There are many more cards than what I am posting. Just posting those with notes on them. I find it interesting that the notes do not match the picture on the Post Card. Have not looked on internet how and why these were made. I love these old cards. When scanning I had hopes that the printed side and picture side would be side by side. Not so, it seems. Young man with pups is Owen Lavely, he was the son of Jacob & Susie Lavely b 1884 in Cedar Vale (youngest child). He lived in Cedar Vale until his forties, then after 1926 census, find him in Colorado. He died Oct 1971 Tucson, AZ. Jacob & Susie are buried in Cedar Vale Cemetery.

Was there a CV Baseball team

2011-07-16T13:41:00.003-06:00

Going through the Lavley & Ford of Chautauqua County pictures, I came across this gem. I am not real sure who is in the picture. Can anyone enlighten me on the history of this? Iris

Parades of Cedar Vale

2011-07-03T07:28:00.003-06:00

I hope this link works. It was faster to post the pictures on it.

On this 4th of July, wanted to share one of my favorite memories of Cedar Vale. The creativeness of the people. I loved the Parades. So much fun and a real sense of community. These pictures are certainly not the best quality, but the purpose is to bring back some happy memories.

News from Wales

2011-06-26T03:17:00.000-06:00

Hi CVers,

We have been traveling in Wales this month and were preparing to go back to Spain when an infection required surgery and a day in the local hospital. Now I am in full recovering mode and public health nurses come and dress the wound every day (all a part of the healthcare system here in Europe).

Thanks, Jay for reposting the comment below. I've not been able to get to the CV blog as often while traveling here. It seems that people do happen upon our CV blog from time to time, so it seems worthwhile to keep it going. If you like to check in here from time to time, make a comment or write a post. You old CV friends will appreciate it.

Comment Re-Post

2011-06-25T10:31:00.002-06:00

This comment just came in for approval and I posted it to Happy New Years (2011) but I don't think anyone will look that far back in the archives. This is for you Carolyn, whoever you are.... Jay
-----
I am not from Cedar Vale, but I have enjoyed reading your blog. I guess that I am a distant relative of Phil Foust - since we had the same great grandmother, which is what caught my eye on Google and how I discovered your blog. My dad used to spend his summers on his grandmother's farm near Cedar Vale, and my grandma's sisters lived there, so I heard her talk about it. After my dad died, I guess I wanted to know more about his life since he was the last of his immediate family, and I discovered your blog.

I don't know what it takes to keep up a blog, but it may be that you are providing a primary source of history for younger generations.....
Carolyn

My Friend Jim Hubbard

2011-06-23T09:21:00.003-06:00

Jim Hubbard, who now lives in Wichita, and I grew up two blocks apart in Cedar Vale. Jim was my best friend, although he was a year younger. The "year younger" part is important because he was my inspiration to do a couple of very important things in my life. Being younger, if Jim could do it then certainly it was past time for me to do the same thing.

First Jim passed the test for his Amateur Radio (Ham) license at 16 I think. I had been interested in radios for several years and we already had a private phone line between our houses using salvaged crank style phones. Jim getting his ham license shocked me into action and I was soon the proud owner of my first ham license, call-sign KN0QDD. I have had many pleasant experiences and met countless new friends through amateur radio over the past 53 years, thanks in part to Jim.

The summer after Jim got his ham license he began flying lessons at the Sedan airport. I believe he was still 16. Of course, I could not let him get ahead of me again so I started taking lessons there also. We were flying in an old Piper J3 Cub. I did manage to solo that summer. However it took me several years, off and on, before I got my Private Pilots License. Jim went on to get commercial, instrument, instructor's, and advanced pilot's ratings. He still flies, but I gave it up a few years ago and my flying is now relegated to "hanger flying". That is, telling stories of how my guardian angles kept me alive and mostly out of trouble. I did fly quite a bit over the years and enjoyed it greatly.

Jim's mother was one of the most patient and kind persons that I have known, and his father was great with us kids also.

This is all to say a big "Thank You" to Jim for being my friend and mentor; even though he (still) is a year younger.

*Who was important to you growing up?

From the mountains of western Panama, all the best to each of you.

Note from Pat Pate Molder

2011-06-23T05:47:00.000-06:00

This message turned up on the blog as a comment from several years ago. I thought the CV blog readers would want to read it, so here it is:

Wanted to say, Phil, how much I enjoyed our visit in Cedar Vale the afternoon of the Alumni Banquet. I'm so ashamed I didn't think to ask about Pat. I would have liked visiting with her, too. Just read your bio from '07. Bessie and Jimpy Lefler were really good friends of my grandparens, Anna and Albert. Jimpy cut my hair from 4th grade through 7th. I loved Bessie and Jimpy. Since this post is four years old I will wonder if you ever read it. Pat Pate Molder

Pebbles for the iPad

2011-05-22T11:04:00.001-06:00

For those CVers who own the new iPad, Apple has just published my little autobiography Pebbles for that device. Go HERE

More about Hooser

2011-05-11T08:55:00.002-06:00

This info about Hooser comes to me thru the Post Office. Norma Knowles (Wesbrook) is a lady well into her 80s who grew up a stones throw from Hooser. This account comes from her own memory and from an account written By Caroline Meldrum Booth. Caroline's article was in the Winfield Daily Courier, Wed. May 26, 1976. (dfc)

Hooser was named for George and Martha Hooser. They had a government grant for 160 acres in 1884. They sold it in 1886 to son Ralph for $1,000.00. Ralph sold 80 acres to the Hooser Town Co, in 1887 for $4,900.00. The MoPac ran daily passenger and frieght trains by 1886. Frieght records in 1902 show 250 cars of baled prairie hay, 200 cars of cattle, and 10 cars of grain. Cars shipped in; 150 cars of cattle, 30 cars of coal, and 4 cars of salt. (My dad, Clarence Wesbrook, worked under Mr. F.M. Hubbard in the hay business.)
The first general store and post office was operated by B.E. Hornsberger. Francis Prather was the first mail carrier at a yearly salary of $900.00. His son George was the last rural carrier out of Hooser.

In 1951 the town site was sold to the Meldrum Bros.

Margaret Robinson Kennedy

2011-05-05T13:51:00.003-06:00

We are going to inter Margaret's ashes at Ozro Falls Cemetery at 11:00 on May 28, and have an open house in her memory after that and before the alumni banquet. We hope to see many of you then.

Pebbles is live

2011-04-22T20:31:00.000-06:00

As promised, here is the link to the Amazon site for the Kindle version of Pebbles: Memories of a Small-Town Kansas Boy. You can download a sample or purchase the book here:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004XJ55LS

Hooser in Cowley County

2011-04-22T14:09:00.000-06:00

For those who want to know (like there are hundreds out there!) here is the 1899 map of Cowley County, showing Hooser on the railroad toward Winfield.

New design

2011-04-22T08:33:00.001-06:00

It's spring and time for a new look for our CV blog. Hope you like it.

Best, Gary

January 7, 1908

2011-04-20T17:29:00.008-06:00

I missed placed some genealogy papers. I had every thing very organized at one time - somehow it all got unorganized. Years of misplacing things and the hunt for them has taught me that something else will turn up that will surprise me - or if nothing else, I will get things back in order. So it was a couple of weeks ago. I am going through the collection of 3 ring binders of genealogy information when I come across something I had completely forgotten I had in my possession. This letter. I had never read it. That day I thought this would be a good way to relax.

I began reading the words a young wife and mother had written one month and 21 days before my father was born. Once I started reading, I could not lay it down. I saw it as a story. Here she was in a new home, in a new state, with a new life as wife and mother. In her letter home, she paints a picture to people she left back home. I could see the kitchen where she was cooking. I thought she had a very logical thought on the food she was preparing.
The items she describes are things her g-g-g-grandchildren in Germany will find interesting when they get older. I had forgotten about tie stays!!
The little drawings on the pages add a special touch. I hope you enjoy Ada Hubbard's letter as much as I did. I am so glad she left this behind for us to see a bit of life in 1908 in Hosser, Kansas.
I did get a chuckle at the end of the letter. So softly mentioned. Almost as an after thought. Maybe that was the way it was then. By the way, how did Hosser get it's name??

Yearbook again

2011-04-19T12:51:00.002-06:00

Wow, I can hardly believe my good fortune. Jim Hubbard just sent me scans of the front covers of the 1954 and 1955 yearbooks for CVHS. That's all I needed to finish the Kindle and iPad versions of Pebbles. Thank you so much, Jim.

Best,

Gary White

CVHS Yearbook 1954 or 1955?

2011-04-18T11:55:00.000-06:00

I am in the process of putting all our published books up for the Amazon Kindle and the Apple iPad. I'm down to my little bio, Pebbles, and I have a request for the CV alums out there. If you have a copy of the 1954 or 1955 CVHS yearbook and have access to a scanner I would love to have a scan of the front cover of either of those books to put into Pebbles. You can let me know or send the scan to my email:

tchbth@mac.com

Thanks so much. I'll let you know when the book goes "live."

Best, Gary White

Info from Morris Jones

2011-04-15T13:04:00.002-06:00

Hi all. I received the following information from Morris Jones who is retired in WA state. I have invited him to share some memories with us. --- Jay

It would have been nice to be a CVHS grad, but during WW2 my folks moved to Garden City where I graduated in 1949.

I went to K-State, got an architecture degree and a USAF commission and then completed pilot training. I had some interesting assignments including 13 months flying out of England in support of bases in Europe and North Africa. I landed at Don Cox’s base in France once and called him. We couldn’t get together for dinner but it was a treat to talk to a Cedar Vale friend, especially while in a foreign country.

I returned to Garden City after my AF years, and later lived in Laramie, Wyoming. I retired to Walla Walla, Washington, where I golf three days a week. It is a pretty soft life, -- but I can handle it!

Herb's Chili - Again

2011-04-14T18:26:00.002-06:00

I know it has been asked before, but I'm still looking for the ingredients that Herb used in his yummy chili. We seem to have a few more readers now, so I am asking again.

Gary mentioned cumin, and we believe that he bought the basic seasoned bricks from the packing plant in Arkansas City. I remember seeing the bricks with orange grease covering the outside. And I remember some small pieces of port fat. And of course I always had mine mixed with his great brown beans.

Does anyone know what else he used for seasonings? I don't cook very much as I live alone...except for my 3 dogs. However, I do enjoy making chili for myself and for my occasional guests. I use ground beef instead of the pork that I think was in Herb's chili. After many years of trying I still cannot find a chili powder that I like. Herb spoiled me for so many years that I am still searching.

By the way, the nights are still forecast to be 55-60 and days 75-80 F for the rest of this year and all of next year here in the mountains of western Panama.

Kenneth Dale Thompson Obit

2011-04-01T20:41:00.000-06:00

Kenneth Dale Thompson, 67, of Carthage and Ontario, Canada, passed Friday, March 18, 2011 at his residence. Mr. Thompson was born November 25, 1943 in Cedarville, KS; to the late Harold David Thompson and Margaret Holroyd Thompson.

Mr. Thompson is survived by his wife of 20 years Joanne Mary Thompson. Three sons, Joshua, John, and Michael. Three daughters, Jennifer, Susan, and Laura. His father and mother-in-law, Stephen and Rita Garvin. Two brothers, Lynn and Mark. Two sisters, Judy and Martha. Four grandchildren and many friends at the Carthage Airport. He was preceded in death by a brother Jerry.

Ken retired from Exxon Mobil after many years. He enjoyed flying his airplanes and living on the airport and loved his time here immensely. Ken was an important person to the airport and will be sadly missed by his family and friends.

FYI

2011-03-21T13:21:00.002-06:00

Madison Holroyd has asked me to post this notice on the Bolg:

Kenneth Dale Thompson, age 67, a 1962 graduate of CVHS, passe awy suddenly at his home in Carthage, NC. He was retired from Exxon-Mobil Corp. Memorial plans are not finalized at present.

Where and How Did You Learn to Ride a Bike?

2011-03-16T22:02:00.003-06:00

I remember vividly how I did. I pestered my Grandad Ramey into buying my horse for the amount that a new bike cost and I ordered it from Sears and Roebuck Catalog. It was beautiful. Bright blue with a headlight, basket, and tail reflector. We lived up a lane that had a SMALL hill from the house down to the County Line. I would get on the bike and head down the hill. Now, keep in mind that there was a barbed wire fence on one side of the lane. also, a yard light pole near the top. After I had mastered this great accomplishment, my sister, Gayle, our neighbors, Gail Jean and Elaine Bennett, also, learned in the same manner. Needless to say, by the time the four of us had learned how to keep upright and on a straight line, the "beautiful bicycle" was not so beautiful. It took quite a beating. Oh yes, I got my horse back, also. My parents were none too pleased with that little deal I made.

Just wondering...............

2011-03-13T18:14:00.002-06:00

Wondering where all of you are!

Not a day goes by that I don't think of the wonderful memories of Cedar Vale, especially during this basketball season! I remember starting my basketball career playing "garage basketball" with Harold Bohannon. Harold tacked up a Folger's coffee can on the side of their garage. We used a tennis ball as a basketball. What games we had! When the weather was wet, you could see the evidence of the mud balls we had tossed towards the coffee can! God, if I could only have a picture of that scene! Can you imagine that we even tossed in a few "two-pointers?"

Of course, this was after our pre-Folgers can experience. We first learned the art of basketball by tossing tennis balls off of the mouldings that surrounded the door ways of our house! Two points for a ball that went off the top, one point that hit the edge and bounded back to you! Later on, Kale Williams put up a goal in his backyard. Wars were had, my friends, often ending in the hay bales that prevented us from dislocating ourselves in the rocky confines of what lied ahead!

I could go on. Need you to go on! Tell us about you learning basketball....or whatever....in the most unforgettable place, Cedar Vale. We had such a special time in such special place. Age will never fade those memories. Let's hear from you! I can just hear the stories!!!

This just in from Loyd Call

2011-02-22T08:15:00.000-07:00

From Loyd Call I moved into apartment 9

Cedar apartments Mar. 11 2010. [It is located where the Grade

School was and is built with the brick from the old Grade School

15 Apartments]

Kenny Marshall has been Care taker for over 20 years. and we

are celebrating and we are getting together at 2.00 Feb. 22

to honor him.

Margaret Robinson Kennedy

2011-02-18T15:20:00.002-07:00

We are planning to have an ashes service for Margaret at Ozro on May 28, probably late morning or early afternoon; and a reception after that at the house. We hope to see many of you then.
---- Jim Robinson

A Little Reminder

2011-01-19T01:37:00.001-07:00

Perhaps it's time for a little levity on the CV blog. Just click the link. HERE

Jim McCall

2011-01-09T23:12:00.001-07:00

This just in from Reva Sawyer:

"Jim passed away shortly after 9am Saturday morning. He had fallen and hit his head on concrete Tuesday and was taken to Wichita St. Francis Hospital where it was determined that surgery would not have a good outcome. Will let you know when we have more details." Reva

Jim Robinson

2011-01-03T12:06:00.002-07:00

Jim, thoughts and prayers are coming your way, concerning Margaret's passing. She was a wonderful person. Such a smile...and winsome way! Lightened up any room she entered. She reflected your fine family, you, Elizabeth, Mae and Lincoln. I have many warm memories of your family. I will tell you one story. This is about Lincoln. I always admired his paintings..and writings. My admiration went up a couple of levels when, after I showed him some of my poetry, he said, "Good, keep writing!" On another occasion, he gave me some white, linen trousers, when he heard that I was going to K.U. Band Camp. We wore white at our concerts and I always felt special in those linen pants!

Thanks for informing us of Margaret's passing. This sharing makes me even more aware of how much "family" there was between families in Cedar Vale! Such a special place, such special people.

Blessings to you, Jim, and your family.

Margaret Robinson Kennedy

2011-01-02T13:41:00.003-07:00

I'm very sad to report that Margaret Robinson Kennedy died December 26, at her home in Chicago. She had received a cancer diagnosis, but she was resolutely planning on further testing and getting whatever treatment could be done, and she was feeling okay. She collapsed suddenly, with friends present.
Diane and J.D. particularly, I'm sorry not to make direct contact, but I get tangled with email addresses and I don't have phone numbers.
Margaret doesn't want a formal service, but there will be an open Chicago reception on Jan. 15 at the Quadrangle Club, 1155 E. 57th St., 4:00 to 6:00 P.M. We will bury her ashes with a graveside gathering at Ozro sometime in the spring, probably late April. We will let people know when the time is set.
Jim Robinson
jbrcinti@yahoo.com

History of the CV Memories Blog, Part II

2011-01-02T11:26:00.002-07:00

Near the end of the previous post I mentioned the photos that people sent to me that were posted on the blog. This is the proper time to mention our own Jay D. Mills, who is a professional photographer who has documented what CV looks like today. You can see his photos and his other blogs listed at the bottom of the page. Go there, if you haven’t already, to learn about a very interesting ex-CV guy.

Jay, who has many technical skills, has become my assistant administrator of the CV Memories blog. Jay is the one who keeps watch among the comments that come in to the blog and eliminates the spam from the serious comments. This became necessary sometime in 2009 when the spammers found CV Memories and began to sprinkle their junk over our blog. Every comment that is posted to the blog has been scanned and approved by Jay. (Thanks again, Jay.)

A major high point for me in 2008 was the trip back to CV and our forming a “Band” to serenade George Beggs, our school band director when we were in CV. George was designated as the parade grand marshall for the Fredonia Fall Festival/Parade on Saturday, October 4. George had retired as band director in Fredonia and the whole town was honoring him. Don Shaffer had alerted us on the blog about this event and I put a plan in motion that ended with a group of us on a flat-bed trailer on October 4, playing (or trying our best to play) “When the Saints Go Marching In”. How this all came about is due to the efforts of many people, primarily Don Shaffer, who served as our leader and furnished musical instruments and music for those of us who could still read music. I drove back to CV and stayed with Don Cox (thanks again, Don) and a group of us arrived in advance of the parade to find 84-year-old G. A. Beggs with his cornet jamming with us before the festivities began. We made a “joyful noise” in the parade and gathered in the basement of a local church for a dinner in Beggs’ honor. This was a memorable day for many of us, and we shared stories and got to know each other face to face after over fifty years. George had stories he remembered for each of us from our high school days. His favorite story for me was of my skipping the entire middle section of a Herbert L. Clark trumpet solo and not knowing that it had happened until I was off stage. Luckily, my accompanist was fast on her feet and covered for me completely. G. A. Beggs is a major hero of mine, and if I can be anything like as alert and active in ten years it will be a miracle.

A major change of location for me came at the end of 2008 when Elyn and I moved to Spain. Luckily, I had already enlisted the support of Jay to cover the blog for me, since I would be out of contact several times in the move and afterward. Jay has pretty much taken care of the CV Memories blog since that time. I have checked in from time to time to see what was going on, and Don Shaffer has become a regular blogger. He has kept the blog from dying entirely this past year and we all owe him a debt of gratitude. Elyn and I have traveled over much of Europe in the past two years, published four books about our travels and have two more in planning stages.

Well, that pretty much brings you up to date on the CV Memories blog, at least as I have seen it grow and develop for two-plus years and begin to slide into obscurity more recently. I have a question for you all—what do you want to do about this blog? I can just leave it up even though no one is posting to it, or I can take it down. Jay has said give it at least six months to see what happens and I’m OK with that. Lets see what the next six months brings. Best wishes to you all for a happy and peaceful 2011.

History of the CV Memories Blog

2011-01-02T08:05:00.003-07:00

Now that CV Memories appears to be winding down I feel the urge to relate a bit about how this blog came about. I’ll consult my memory and the back files of the blog, but I’m sure this will be as much fiction as fact, as are all our memories.

Sometime in 2006 or 2007 I made contact with my old CV schoolmate, Wayne Woodruff, after having no communications since the mid 1950s when we were both undergraduate students at KU. Wayne was living in New Mexico, as was I, so I invited him to visit us in Santa Fe when he was coming our way. Wayne came through and spent a night with us on his way to Ohio, where he was moving. He related how he had retired from his medical practice to take care of his wife, who suffered from Lou Gehrig’s disease. After she died, Wayne had begun to make contact with a number of people he had grown up with in CV, in part, as an antidote to depression I thought.

We had a good day in Santa Fe remembering our years in CV and I thought that since Wayne was emailing several of our classmates we might go “high tech” and create a blog to all share our various memories. Wayne had the contacts and I had the techie skills to get it off the ground so I put up a blog called CV Memories and we invited people to join.

I should say at this point that I also had an ulterior motive for putting up CV Memories. I had been collecting little autobiographical pieces for several years that I was planning to put in book form and the blog seemed a great place to preview pieces that pertained to CV. (I ultimately published Pebbles: Memories of a Small-Town Kansas Boy in 2008.) At first, the CV Memories blog consisted mostly of excerpts from Pebbles, and others seemed loath to join in. Gradually, Wayne began to write down some of his memories and they developed into an extended essay on the Main Street of Cedar Vale as he remembered it.

When I had exhausted the store of excerpts from Pebbles, sometime early in 2008 others began to come online to fill the gap. Wayne continued to post his offerings, and Don Cox became the resident historian, since he is still living in CV and has the clearest and most extensive memory of early days there. He also has his companions at the Hill Top Cafe to fill in the details for him from time to time.

CV Memories gained local notoriety in Cedar Vale when Susan Schaff, editor of the CV Lookout section in the Winfield Courier began to use excerpts from the blog in her weekly news section. By this time, I was mostly serving as administrator and collector of the photos and other memoriabila that people sent along. I created the photo section you see on the blog from the stuff that was sent to me. I enjoyed bringing some of the older photos to life through the magic of Photoshop.

To be continued.

Help Us Keep This Blog Alive / Interesting

2011-01-02T05:00:00.002-07:00

Gary and Don (and myself) are questioning whether it is worthwhile to keep this blog going. I believe that we should keep it going for at least another six months.

I'm not sure how to encourage more people to contribute. If just a few of you "watchers" would click "New Post" and share some of your memories of growing up and/or living in Cedar Vale the site would come alive again. If you don't want to write a little article then just chime in with a comment now and then. Your comment will appear just as soon as Gary or myself can OK it. I am still helping to delete spam in the comments every few days. I will continue to work with the site as long as there is activity.

I would be interested in hearing your memories about school outings, sports, family histories, favorite foods, "hanging out", first cars, teachers, pranks, summer / part-time jobs, fishing, hunting, dances, best friends, your travels, and what you have been doing since high school. I believe that it is also a good place to let us know about the welfare of friends and those we grew up with in Cedar Vale.

Happy New Year

2011-01-01T12:58:00.001-07:00

Things have been mostly quiet on the CV Blog this year, but I'll keep it up for 2011 to see if there is any more interest. If not, I many take it down later in the year. Any thoughts about this?

2010-12-25T09:35:00.002-07:00

FYI Rick Hollister, who made several posts on our Blog spot has died. He had been failing for sometime. He died at home in Ponca City two days ago. He will be interred at Ozro Cemetary near Hewins next Tuesday at 2:00 pm. His mother and father were Betty (Rish)and Victor Hollister. His wife survives, she is a Hawkins.

It's December........

2010-12-08T20:54:00.002-07:00

Haven't heard from any of you for quite a while. I know. So many things to take care of. Just wish we could get together and share. Travelling through these days until Christmas, I sense that each of us have stories to be told. Guess I'll start it, with a "I remember......"

I remember the Christmas we had at the church. Someone cut down a tree from Lookout Mountain. It graced our sanctuary. Baubles and bulbs be-dececked its branches. We gathered together. How I wish that we would do that, right now. We sang songs. We became one. I think, that people, other than Methodists, came to join in! We loved that time. We loved being together. We loved being in a special moment in our lives.

We loved Charlie Cable, encouraging us to sing the hymns of Christmas~! I will never forget Shirley and Bob Brown's son, playing "Silent Night," in a country-version, that will never be forgotten! I still see him. Still hear him play. God must have sat back and said, "All is well!"

I wish you a Merry Christmas. I wish you a time.....a time to sit back, relax, and know that Santa is still around....whether you've been naughty or nice....and he's leaving something under your tree...something that says, "Aren't you're glad you're CV?????!!!!! YESSSSSSSSSS!

Day After Tomorrow

2010-10-30T17:55:00.002-06:00

The day after tomorrow will be November. Tried to think of things that happened to me in November, in Cedar Vale.

School had been in session for a couple of months. I remember being "sent" to school, my picture being taken of me in my new jeans, rolled up at the cuff, and looking like I had no idea of what was to become! I can not believe I was ever that young! I do remember hearing the cicadas singing their songs and knowing that school was not far along. Seems like I had a geography book...before school even started, and to tell you the truth, I have been trying to find myself ever since!

Looking back, as I often do, I wish I had added strength to all that was presented to me. As Brando once said, "I could have been a contender!" Well, Cedar Vale gave me the chance to be a "contender!" I often failed. Once in a while, I won the round. Just wish I could stir up that recipe that Cedar Vale gave me and come up with a menu that would nourish those who have had their pictures taken on their "first day of school," and know that you, my dear friend, have all of the world before you, but never forget the world from whence you came!

The day after tomorrow will be November! May it be the beginning of the best days of your life! In the meantime, say, at 10:00 p.m. at night, say a prayer of thanks to Cedar Vale, its beginning ....... that will never end.................

October in Cedar Vale

2010-09-26T19:04:00.002-06:00

Remember the Octobers in Cedar Vale? Cicadas? Sycamore trees and their leaving of leaves?
Grass seemed to dry up. There was a smell in the air. A giving up......... and a going to.

Then, a scene, I remember, of ranchers coming to town, to the pump, to get water, for their livelihood. The pump was stationed in the middle of town. Between the lumber yard and Church of Christ Church. Pick-ups and other kinds of trucks would mosie up to the pump, get their fill and move off, to secure another day of meal and moisture for the cattle awaiting. Such a communal thing. Everyone was welcome to the water! Don't know whether they had to pay for the water. And, if that was a fact, it was worth paying for!

Octobers in Cedar Vale were special. A time to re-seed. A time to make more of what we were.
A time to remember merchants jaunting off their steps, to give to farmers, ranchers, and city-folk, all they wanted, and more.

I think that if I ever had the chance, to re-live a lifetime, I'd pick an October in Cedar Vale!

The Call of the Cedar Vale Cicadas

2010-09-10T16:34:00.003-06:00

Their shrill drone filled the air. It was time. Time for school to start. Time for jeans that smelled new. Time for books that offered worlds unknown. Time, only days remaining, when my Dad and I slept out under the stars, on army cots, to escape the heat....and listen to the cicdas, giving their cadence to the world. We never said much. Just let the night close in. Got cool. And, finally pulled up the sheets to shield away the cool.

As wonderful as was the night, more wonderful the morning! Don't know when I became awake.
A beam of light from somewhere, I guess. No alarm clocks. You just knew it was time to get up!
You gathered up your sheet....and your cot, and headed for the house. A certain sadness filled that moment. It seemed that business as usual was beginning, when a business that was unusal was ending! Didn't want it to end! Yet, there it was...the sun, and the signal to begin!

Why am I writing this? Because I wish that I had slept more, out under the stars, with the cicadas rubbing their wings together, with all those I hold near and dear. Yes, a few camping trips accomplished this. But, it was being with my Dad, those Cedar Vale cicadas, the rustling sycamore leaves, and the shooting stars that crossed over in the night, that made THOSE NIGHTS SPECIAL!

Bob Marshall

2010-08-12T16:52:00.002-06:00

Lived next door to Marshall's Filling Station. Next to Clarence and Elsie. Remember playing "catch" with Kenny. He was my hero. Grant Utt used to say, "He could hit it half as far, and get to where I was trying to get, in half the time!" Wished I had taken his every pitch in the glove, as a resolve. A resolve to know that from that "game of catch," a lifetime of learning, learning that what you give, you receive! Then along came came Bob.....

If you never knew Bob, you never knew Clarence! He would say, "Have you heard that boy play that horn? He's going to be somebody! " I can't describe the look, the posture in Clarence's eyes, as he extolled about Bob. His boy was special. Clarence knew it. Through him, we knew it.

Today, we smell the smells of a corner filling station. We feel the metal hitting metal as rims are loosed from their tires. You smell the little grinding motor, that sharpened the blades of your lawn mower. You saw a hoist, lifting up, yet another vehicle, in need of of soothing.

The sycamore trees shed their leaves, each year, I suppose. They were next to the "service station" that served us, in so many ways. That we should shed our leaves so easily.

So, Bob, as I write these words, I see you smiling! And, I hear you say, "It all started there, with a love that no one can comprehend. Yet, it was there....and you are here....and together, we will
be a band....a Beggs Band....and we will play wherever tunes need to be played!

Just wish I could hear those sycamore trees rustling. Just to feel the "pop" in my glove, when Kenny "threw it in." Just to smell the oil, that makes things run. Just to know that Bob is in a place where life returns to music....and know we are all the better for it!!!!!!!!!!!

Bob Marshall RIP

2010-08-04T00:12:00.001-06:00

PEABODY — Robert Eugene Marshall, 63, of Peabody, died July 28, 2010.

Services will be 2 p.m. Wednesday at the Peabody United Methodist Church. Stephen Humber and the Rev. David Ragland will officiate. Arrangements are by Baker Funeral Home, 114 N. Sycamore St., Peabody, KS 66866.

A celebration of life will be held after the memorial service concludes at the Marshall Warehouse lawn on S. Walnut in Peabody. The family would like to extend an invitation to all family and friends to join them.

Memorials are to the Robert Marshall Music Scholarship administered by the Senseney Music Foundation, Peabody Main Street Association, Peabody, KS 66866.

The Shoe Toss!

2010-07-31T18:08:00.002-06:00

It's a Saturday night! Brings me back to past Saturday nights! One was at Sedan, Kansas. Why we were there, I have not the foggiest! But, there we were! It was a dance of some kind. The master of ceremonies said, "Let all the ladies throw one of their shoes into the center of the ring! When the bell sounds, let me best man win....the thrower of the shoe!" For some reason, I must tell you this story. Haven't told many. There was this girl. Her name was Jan. The pictures in the Leonard Theatre did not hold a candle to her! Infatuated with her? That would be an understatement! I would have launched a couple fo ships for her!

Well, the beautiful ladies threw their shoes. I followed Jan's shoe to the heap before me. When the master of ceremonies said, "Go get their shoe,!" I raced to the exact spot where I knew Jan's shoe had fallen! I grabbed it up, curious that others had not seen the flight of her shoe! I proudly grabbed the shoe and took it to its owner!

When happened next, will remain one of the low cycles of my life. Jan took the shoe, but her heart wasn't in it! I knew it. She knew it. We danced the first dance. That's about all there was to it.

To this day, I remember the valuable lesson I learned that day, "If the shoe fits, wear it....but if somebody doesn't want to wear that shoe.....leave it be!

"If You Had, One Story to Tell, About Cedar Vale!

2010-07-19T17:51:00.002-06:00

I know.

One story turns into stories. Sliding down a hill, next to the carpenter's house, who lived on the hill. His first name was Lon. Anyone remember his last name?

In the winter, sliding down that hill, under the barbed wire, and into the field of beyond! I think it was the "getting up" that I remember, facing a long trek, back to to the top! But, what a ride on the way down! Ducking down to avoid the barbed wire! Ducking down to see how far I could go!

Well, I've ducked a few barbed wires. And, saw how far I could go! Yet, I never went further, than that "Cable-hill" run! That was it! How I loved the bumps and bruises. How I loved to see how far I could go into the Beuchles's (sp?) corn field~!!!!

Just one of many stories. Tell me yours. Time is short. Tell us yours!

DINING OUT

2010-07-15T09:14:00.003-06:00

Now comes this nostalgic menu from Iris. Did you ever get to voyage to Ark City, Winfield, Independence, or our nearby cities when you were youthful? Maybe you even got to order something at the Woolworth Lunch Counter.

"I'll have the Super Banana Split and a coffee please", that should leave tip money from a half dollar.

Old Tom

2010-07-02T05:52:00.004-06:00

OK Don and Don, I’m taking the challenge to write about one of my pets as a child growing up in CV. His name was Tom and we called him Old Tom as he aged.

Tom was an orange tabby cat of the male persuasion. He had rough “targets” in orange against a white background on both sides. He was a big, strong cat that had never been neutered (we didn’t even think about such things in the 1940s).

Tom was the scourge of all the cats in the neighborhood. If one dared to enter his domain he or she would get a sound drubbing from Tom. Tom was a great hunter and we would be presented with dead birds or dead mice on our doorstep from time to time. These were his trophies and he was justly proud of them.

To say that he was MY cat would be to overstate the case. We were his humans and he let us live in his house so long as we provided a steady supply of food, water, and an occasional bowl of milk. Tom would jump up on our laps to be petted when it suited him, and otherwise he could be found napping most of the day in a spot of sunlight.

Tom needed his sleep because the nights were his prowling time. We never knew what he did or where he went at night. Gradually, over the years, he acquired more and more scars. His nose was a mass of healed scratches and his coat was threadbare in places where there had been more serious injuries. He limped on one front paw, which was missing two toes. He would sometimes be gone for several days at a time and we more than once gave him up for dead, only to find him lying outside the door too weak to make a sound.

I would nurse him back to health and he would return to his tomcat ways. Finally, there came the day when he was gone for nearly a week. When we found him outside the door he was barely breathing. I put him on his blanket and tried to get some water into him, but it was no use. Tom breathed his last and expired in peace. I wrapped him in his blanket and made a grave for him in the back yard. A small stone marked that spot and I would often look out there and remember my fearless friend.

I had other pets as I grew older, but none had quite the personality and zest for living dangerously as Old Tom. Perhaps that was a lesson that I learned from him. I’ve traveled far and wide over the world and consider myself more or less a nomad in my old age. I like to think that Tom would be proud.

RUSTY!

2010-06-27T21:16:00.002-06:00

This is about Rusty. My first real friend. He was a dog. Half cocker. Half bird-dog. Red in color.

Charlie Cable told my folks that a dog had appeared on his doorstep. Nice dog. Wondered if Don would like a dog. Of course, Don wanted a dog, that dog! Years before, Don had read a little "Bantam Book" entitled, Rusty. He was a red dog...and a fine one at that! I can still see the pictures of him, even the ones of him jumping over fences to goodness knows where! So, Rusty was my first dog's name. Loved that dog. Still do. He was kind of burnt orange all over, with a white patch on his chest! He had a face that needed no words to convey what he was thinking! Most of the time we thought the same things. Goin' runnin'. Goin' to the dam. Swimming in the river. Sharing many thoughts. Most of them too cerebral for me to understand.

He would greet me at the lumber yard, where my Dad worked, as I came home from school. They said he knew just when I'd be coming home....and he'd be there. God, what a friend!

Well, one day, we were walking to town, and a car came by. Why he was in the street, I'll never know. He was hit. He crawled to the front door of the pool hall. He crouched in pain. I reached to him. He snapped. Had never done that before. Shortly after that, he died. Several people surrounded us. I don't know who it was, maybe Woody Oliver, that picked him up, put him on his flat bed and took us home. I dug a hole in our backyard. Buried him there. Got a piece of lumber and carved his name on it. Drove it into the ground.

Never got another dog in Cedar Vale. My grief reached feelings I had never felt before and seldom since. It was like a whole chapter of my life had been torn away. And, it wasn't that I didn't want another dog, it was just that I didn't want anyone, or any dog, to be as close to me as Rusty had been.

Be it known that I've had many other dogs. Rusty was the first. Rusty was the best. Along with Jasper, Curtsey, Tallulah, Winston, A-Jay and Nellie!

HARVE BARGER

2010-06-21T21:16:00.002-06:00

The man's name was Harve Barger. He was a blacksmith in Cedar Vale. Wish I remembered more about him. I remember seeing him walk from his home "on top of the hill" all the way down to the blacksmith shop. Always wore overalls. They were ever so neat...and, if overalls ever had pleat, Harve's did! And, when he went home at night, they were a bit soiled, but always had a "creasiness" about them!

It's what happened between his walk down the hill and back up the hill that intrigued me as a young lad. I would visit Harve, at his blacksmith shop. Watch him pump up the coals with a long, curved foot pedal, until they were white-hot! Into those coals, he would put horseshoes, plows, branding irons, and other ranch/farm implements. Those branding irons. Harve customed-made several! He stamped those brands on long 2x8 boards, nailed to the wall. I recall seeing "Rocking Chairs, Lazy 8's, Circles, Bars, and Horseshoe shapes. Wish I had taken a picture of them. Even better, wouldn't it be something to know what ranches/farms they represented? As a side note, I remember the "hissing" sound, as Harve put red-hot metal into that wooden water trough~~! Steam would rise! How wonderful! Horses would be "shoed" right there in the shop... Harve would drive those horseshoe nails right through the horses' hoofs, seldom getting a negative reation! Some of us kids would take horseshoe nails and fashion them into a ring, worn when we knew "an enemy" was approaching!

The floor of the blacksmith shop. It was black! Soot black! To my knowledge, Harve never once swept the floor! Then, there was the time when I found a piece of chalk and wrote "Harve Barger" on one of his storage cabinets. Later on, Harve once said, "Don, remember when you wrote my name on that cabinet? "Yes," I confessed! He said, "Well, you know, that's been very useful to me. When people come in and say, "How do you want your check to be made out?" I'd say, "See that name on the cabinet, THAT'LL DO!" I tell you, I still get a "chill" out of telling that story! It means so much to me because, I'd like to think, it meant a lot to Harve!

Harve was short in stature, yet he work ethic and kind words to a little red-headed kid, took the word, STATURE, to an entirely new dimension!

Thanks, Harve, for keeping the memory fires a'burning!

FOOTBALL FIELD ON FIRE!

2010-06-16T10:10:00.002-06:00

Our local orchestra is rehearsing the 1812 Overture for our Patriotic Concert. As I heard the "cannon shots" at the conclusion of the piece, it reminded of this little story:

Once upon a "marching-band" time, I had selected excerpts from "1812" as part of our half-time show. Even had a bass drum next to the mike in the press box to heighten the sound of the cannon! And, at the suggestion of one of my stalwart band members, we decided to have a "small" fireworks display at the northeast corner of the field, during the "cannon firing!"

All was going well. The crowd oohed and aahed at the visual and the audio! However, the oohing and aahing suddenly stopped, as it became apparent that the northeast corner was ON FIRE! Hoses, fire extinguishers, and other water-emanating devices were used to douse the fire! At last, it was under control, just as the football team arrived on the field for the second half. To say the coaches were not pleased, would not totally capture this incendiary moment!

Conclusion to story: The coaches did not forget what had happened to their hallowed ground. On the following Monday, while the band was standing at attention, in block formation, for the roll count, the coaches turned on the entire sprinkling system!!!!! Yes, we were dampened....but not our spirits! However, in future performances of "1812," we used just the drum!!

Testing comment moderation

2010-06-06T18:07:00.004-06:00

Jay Mills and I are now moderating comments. Your comments will be posted after one of us OKs them. We are beginning to get random spam in the comments and we are trying to keep the CV site free of such interruptions.

I'll chime in just to let everyone know I'm "awake" in Panama. Please leave a comment about this and Gary or I will see, approve, and post it. Thanks, Jay (J.D.) Mills

How I wish that I could......

2010-06-05T18:35:00.002-06:00

How I wish that I could relive the moment we landed in Cedar Vale. We came from a town named Beattie. We arrived, and I'm not sure how, but we landed in the "Webb House." A fine house it was! It had a porch. Had a swing! Had an upstairs and a downstairs. Had a garage. Had a little rock garden out in back. Further, out in back, I buried the dearest friend I ever had, Rusty, my dog. (We will remember him in a later "post.")

My Dad was a lumberman. He was more than that. I learn from him, to this very day. Our arrival was not euphoria. Mom wisted for her former home while Dad seemed to welcome our new home! I had my own bedroom! The folks had theirs! I remember that the only tub, was the one we had upstairs! (For those of you of poetic bent, notice the rhyme! :) ) Well, we lived there, opulence it seemed~! We even had a fireplace! And, a "spare" bedroom for those who might visit! I remember a Church of Christ Revival, and the evangelist, who stayed at our home. He was one of those fellows who became "family" real quick! I remember, when he left, my mom and I went into the room where he slept, and there, on the pillow, was a cardboard card. He had left a note for us. I'd give a dollar or two to have that card. I just remember that he said "THANK YOU," in words I still remember. He signed his name. Proof enough for me.

Well, I ambled on here long enough! I have tales to tell..and eventually, I'll tell those tales! Just know that when the cicadas begin to sing their song, I long to be where I belong,
Cedar Vale....!

Tomorrow is Memorial Day

2010-05-30T21:04:00.002-06:00

It's after 10:00 p.m. Tomorrow is Memorial Day. Florists have been called. "Same placement as last year?", they said. "Yes, that would be fine and thanks for taking care of them and me, once again," came the reply. And I added, "Could you use yellow flowers this year, as last year I think it was red?" Somehow, the flowers didn't seem enough. I put down the phone and thought of my parents, the memories of them, the "forget-me-nots" they left.

I remember words my dad wrote in my "little autograph book" when I was a young lad!: "I've read these pages o'r and o'r, to see what others have written before, and here upon this vacant spot, I write the words, "FORGET ME NOT!"

Space will not suffice for all the "forget-me-nots" that Cedar Vale has given to my life. Looking through my mother's old albums, caused memories to abound...and realizing again, how rich that life was. And so, I close with these words:

"I've been places, some o'r and o'r, to see what others have done before,

Yet, Cedar Vale, here, on your special lot, none can compare to your "forget-me-nots!"

Tomorrow, Memorial Day will be commemorated in many different ways. Yet, the words from "TAPS" brings it all home....

"Day is done...gone the sun..from the hills, from the lakes, from the skies,

All is well, safely rest. God is nigh............"

May all of you be well and may rest fill your soul until we meet again...

THE COLLEGE YEARS - 1956-1963

2010-05-23T13:28:00.001-06:00

After graduating with the CV class of 1956 I attended Arkansas City Junior College (Juco). The first year of Juco, classmates Gordon Thompson, Maurice White and I shared an apartment over a garage a few blocks from the college. My second year my folks sold the farm and moved to Ark City and I stayed with them.
Wife Nancy (Hankins) (also class of 56), along with classmates Linda Archer and Elizabeth Robinson attended Colorado Woman’s College in Denver. The second year Elizabeth transferred to KU, Nancy got a job working for Bell Telephone in Wichita and Linda attended Colorado Woman’s College.
A week after graduating from Juco in 58, Nancy and I were married. I got a clerical job working for a retail brick company at $1.25 and hour and after 30 days got a 5-cent an hour raise. I thought this corporate world is great, sure beats farming. The master plan was Nancy was going to continue working, I was going to work part time and go to Wichita University full time.
When it was time to enroll for the fall semester, I came home one evening and Nancy said, “I went to the doctor today and Daddy we better talk”. When I was 13 or 14 years old, baling hay on a Kansas hot, humid, suffocating, sweaty day, I vowed that I wasn’t going to be a farmer. I was going to go to college and learn to do something else. Not to be deterred from this vow, thus started five years of night school while working full time.

With Marvin Cable, (Cable Chevrolet) and Vera Sheldon (office manager) attesting to my “good character”, I went to work for General Motors Acceptance Corp. (GMAC) the auto financing division of General Motors. I had the “ highly respectable and stressful position” of being in charge of the mail and stock room. I picked up the mail each morning from the post office, opened, sorted and distributed it. In the afternoon I delivered the out going mail to the post office, but I had a company car I got to drive home, WOW.
In the 5+ years I worked for GMAC, I got “promoted” from being mail boy and did various other clerical jobs, however the greatest benefit was they had an educational program and which paid my college titution.
After five years and two daughters, I did get my BA degree, with an accounting major. Not desiring to sit behind a desk all day, I interviewed at Cessna Aircraft Company in Wichita. The job was for someone with an accounting background to travel the US and assist Cessna Dealers with accounting and management problems. As a youth I had always thought by being a truck driver one could travel and see our great country, so this job sounded great to me and I would not be a “desk job.”
On my second interview I was offered the position. Upon my acceptance, the gentleman that had offered me the job said, “By the way, since you will be traveling, we will teach you to fly our company airplanes, do you like to fly”?
Being a poor Kansas farm boy, I had never had aspirations of being a pilot and had never been in an airplane, but I responded, “ I love flying”. Thus started the opportunity to visit every state in the US as well as Canada and Mexico. The theory for the job was by assisting and hopefully helping the Dealers to be better managers, they would be more profitable and buy more airplanes. I can’t say in reality that this theory was ever proven to be valid. In the nine years I worked for Cessna, it did however give me the opportunity to work in a growing and exciting industry. It provided me the best education and training possible in being a Cessna Dealer for the next 24 years in Monterey, California. A book could be written on the experiences of those years.

WHERE WERE YOU?

2010-05-19T07:48:00.002-06:00

Susan Shaff has reminded us that next month will mark the 35th anniversary of the tornado that caused devastation and injuries in Cedar Vale. She thinks (and I agree)
that we should use our blogspot to recount where we were and how it affected us etc. This could be as a comment to this entry or you could make a new entry.

June 1975--I was in Asia on my odyssey around the world, but the news reached me and of course I worried about the home folks. I stretched my budget to make and international phone call to confirm that my family was OK. I think I went into one of those phone offices which held several booths and a resident operator who would make the connection for you. I believe it was Manila. How things have changed!! When I returned to CV some months later I was saddened to see how the older trees had suffered.
Sooo--- where were you?

Random Memories of a Young Boy from 40's

2010-05-05T16:58:00.003-06:00

As a very young farm lad I remember:

Hot summer nights on the farm and everyone sleeping outside on mattresses thrown up on a flat wagons. I thought it was great fun when I was 4 or 5 years old.
Cold winter days with snow that the team of mules had trouble pulling the feed wagon through to get to the cattle. But, making the snowman in the front yard was great fun when I was 5 or 6!
Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners when grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins all got together and I thought that we had the best food of the year.
Rationing of gasoline and many other items during WWII. I was so young that about all I remember is the coupon books with ration stamps.
Riding out with real cowboys as they went out to round up or "work" cattle. And, going to the fields with the farm "hands" when they were planting and harvesting the crops.
Swimming with the men in the creek after a hot day of harvesting in the summer - no suits needed.
Unannounced, but always welcome visits from relatives and family friends. And, always neighbors helping neighbors.
Complete and hardy dinners (lunch) served by my mother and helpers to the men in the fields, or miles away at the Hoosier railroad yard, so that the men could get right back to work.
Studying the book of Revelations in Sunday School and being frightened "half-to-death" as a young lad. I was 6 or 7 I think.
Visiting the one-room school on the hill at Round Mound before I was old enough to go to school. It was on the county-line road 3 or 4 miles ? north of the highway. Some of the older boys at the school made long white balloons our of something else. The school closed and I began my schooling in Cedar Vale instead.

These really were the "good old days"! I'll post more later, but what do you remember ?? Don't be shy! And please, enjoy every day.

KANSAS FARM LIFE IN THE 40'S - HAYING

2010-04-28T14:14:00.001-06:00

My first recollection of putting up hay was in 1945, when I was 6 years old. This date sticks in my mind because my mother was in the Winfield hospital. My Dad was going to take my sisters and I to see our baby brother. It had rained that morning and the ground was slick. My Dad was riding a horse at a gallop down the lane from our barn; the horse slipped, and fell on my Dad’s ankle, breaking it. I have no recollection what happened to get him help.
I do remember a few days later, he had a cast on and was using crutches. Early one morning, looking at our hay meadow, I saw a least three teams, pulling hay mowers and cutting the grass in our meadow. One of the teams was our closest neighbor, Clarence Westbrook, (Norma Knowles father, Jolene Sartin, (Westbrook) grandfather) one team was mules, which would have been Earl Coil, (Maxine Coil’s, class of 56, Dad) and the other was probably Ed Foltz. Seeing neighbors willing to pitch in and help other neighbors in time of need, left a lasting impression on this young mind. They volunteered their help, expecting nothing in return. They and I am sure other neighbor’s helped, mowing the meadow, raking, bucking and stacking the hay. All this was done with horse and manpower.
As I recall my first job in the haying process, was bucking the hay. After the grass was mowed, it was left to dry (cure) for a few days. It was then raked into wind rows, a long line of raked dry grass. It would then be bucked to the haystack. The buck was configured different than most other horse drawn implements. The buck was probably 10 to 12 feet wide. It had wooden runners, sometimes with metal attachments on the tips. The runners were a few inches apart. On each side of the row of runners was a tongue that was attached to the harness of a horse. A seat was on the back and in the middle of the buck. The person sitting on the seat held a harness rein from each horse. By pulling on the left or right rein, would guide the horses in the direction you wanted to go.
By directing the horses down a wind row, the hay would accumulate as the runners sled along on the ground. Sometimes the runners would hit a partially imbedded rock, causing the back of the buck to flip up, unseating the person on the seat.
When there was a full load of hay on the buck, the horses would be driven to the place where they were stacking the hay. By backing the horse up, the load of hay would be left by the stack. The hay would be pitched up on the stack by using pitchforks. Someone on the stack would place the hay around the top of the stack, building it higher and higher, thus the name “hay stack”.
We switched from stacking hay to baling hay. The first hay baler was long and heavy. (Time has faded my memory of the names of many of the baler components.) It had iron wheels and horsepower was used to move and operate it. The baler was centrally located in the hay meadow. The iron wheels where removed with the baler setting on the axels. The front of the baler had a long metal guide that was low enough for horse to step over. Inside the guide was a long metal rod that was attached to a plunger that pushed the hay through the baler. A team of horses was hooked to a metal rod with the horses walking in a circle. The metal rod in the guide was geared so that the rod would go back and forth, pushing the plunger in and pulling it out.
My job was bucking hay to the baler. A pitchfork was used to pitch the hay into a wide funnel shaped opening. A “horse head shaped part” was geared and attached to the rod that pushed and pulled the plunger in and out. When the “horse head” went up, a pitchfork of hay was placed in the opening. When the “horse head” came down it pushed the hay in front of the plunger, which compressed and pushed the hay through the back of the baler. The placing of a wooden block separated the bales. The wooden block was placed in a holder. A part of the “horse head” was a v-shaped metal piece that when the “horse head” came down, if a block was in the holder, the block would be pushed down, dividing the hay into bales.
The back of the baler had an upper and lower guide, the distance being the width of the bale. The length was the length of two to three bales. The compressed hay being pushed through the back was open on each side. The wooden block had two grooves on each side. A person sat on each side of the baler. Baling wire, with an eye on one end and cut to the length of a bale, came in a tube. The person (1) sitting on the left pulled the wire out of the tube, placing the end of the wire without the eye through the grooves in the wooden block. The person (2) on the other side placed and pushed the wire through the block grooves on the other end of the bale. Person (1) would place the wire end through the wire eye and wrap it around the wire “tying” the bale. The tied bales were pushed out the back of the baler and another person stacked the bales, which were placed on a horse drawn trailer and hauled to the barn. This haying process was as labor intensive as stacking but much more convenient for feeding.
The next haying method I recall was the transition from horsepower to tractor power. Many of the horse drawn implements were converted to be pulled by a tractor, The tongue was cut down to be shorter and attachments bolted to the tongue that would enable the implement to be hooked to the draw bar of the tractor. The hay mower and rake were adapted to be pulled by the tractor.
The major change was the tractor drawn hay baler would pick up the hay in the wind row. This eliminated the hay bucking process. The first tractor drawn baler I remember, still required two men sitting on seats on the rear of the baler, tying the bales. The bales coming out the back of the baler would be scattered around the meadow. Sometimes a wooden sled would be attached to the rear of the baler. A man would ride on the sled and stack the bales on the sled. The sled had an open space in the middle, running the length of the sled. When several bales were stacked on the sled, a crow bar would be stuck into the ground through the open sled space, causing the bales to be slid off the rear of the sled. The many small stacks of bales scattered around the meadow would be picked up with a trailer and hauled to the barn. I also recall a trailer being attached to the rear of the baler and the bales stacked on the trailer.
Near the end of my “haying days”, we acquired mowers; win row rakes and self-tying balers designed for tractors. In a time period of less than ten years the haying process drastically changed. From labor intensive to a one-man operation.
While growing up on a farm I never appreciated the farm life and my ambition was “not to be a farmer”. In retrospect I am very thankful that I was raised on a farm. During my farm youth, I had the honor of being in the presence and observing two great men. One was my Dad, Cecil Metcalf and my uncle Art Metcalf. (Father of Artie and Wayne). Together they rented farmland, purchased equipment, helped each other and had great respect for one another. I never heard a derogatory comment, a disagreement, or foul language. To my knowledge they never tried tobacco or alcohol. They were the most honest and moral men I have had the privilege to know. Great role models.

TRAVELS

2010-04-19T06:33:00.003-06:00

In 1975 I left my job in Berkeley, Ca., got my act together, and decided to travel around the world for a year. I bought an "around the world ticket" from Pan Am which allowed the use of any associated airline and unlimited detours as long as one was continuing in the same direction. In my case I left SFO going east and my eventual return would be from Asia and the Pacific. Keep in mind that this is 35 years ago and the world situation was different then. Since I had no job or salary, I was doing this with meager savings and rental income from some property in San Francisco. For this reason I tended to spend more time in 3rd world countries where the dollar was strong. I was writing letters to my family when I had the time and I still have some of them (saved by my Mother). I will copy one of them and post it now. If a few are interested, I'll try to post another one from time to time. This is 7 months into my trip as it it the first one I picked from the file.

AT SEA, PHILIPPINES, 30 JUNE 1975

For 31 days now I have enjoyed hospitality Philippine style. To say the people are hospitable is an understatement. They are downright aggressive about it sometimes. Most of the populace instinctively like Americans (legacy from WWII) and English is one of the official languages.
Only a very churlish and rude recluse could avoid friendships here. If there is one out standing problem here, it is finding some solitude when you need it. It seems an insult to the national pride if any visitor is left alone. In this sense they are like the Thais, but at least there is usually a language barrier in Thailand which can be handy at times. Here one is engaged in conversation at street corners, restaurants, mens rooms, and even in the movies. By the second sentence they want to know your home, marital status, jobs, etc. More often than not the questioning will turn to politics- "What do you think of our country?, our martial law?. Do you like our women?, and from there to very personal prying which in rural Kansas you could accept from family or very long time friends. I've learned to expect it and I have my answers prepared. Some of them evasive and some outright falsehoods, but not malicious I hope.
I've also learned that when asked where I am staying it is best to lie unless I want unwanted telephone calls, or worse yet, people knocking unexpectedly at the door. I've had casual acquaintances wait for hours in the hotel lobby to catch me as I come in.
Much of this lavish and ego flattering attention no doubts stems from the urgent desire of more than half of the people-especially the young ones-to get to the U.S.A. Generally speaking they are very poor-really-and there is very little hope of a decent job for them here. As a result they want friends or sponsors in the States to help them enter. Lots of them are worthy and would be the lowliest type of menial servant for a ticket to USA, room, board and a some pocket money. Most of them know someone who has "made it" as a houseboy, nanny, or maid usually on a one o two year contract basis after which they are supposed to return home.
The Spanish era here has left a legacy of Catholicism with the exception of of the large Muslim minority mostly in the South, Mindanao and the Sula archipelago. The brown skinned, smiling people with their Christian heritage remind me a lot of Mexico. Of course in climate and physiognomy it is more like Thailand but Thailand is Buddhist with a Muslim minority.
My time here has been in Manila primarily, but I have made two side trips. The first was a bus trip of 7 hours to Baguio City in the mountains to the north of Luzon. The temperature is about 10 degrees cooler there and that was a VERY welcome change. The road up to the city is hairaising with switchbacks and sheer drops. It is an area of active mining, mostly copper. Also in the area are the famous rice terraces on the mountainsides-considered to be the 8th Wonder of the World. I had a decent but spartan room for 10 pesos ($1.40). Unfortunately I also had indigestion.
The wonder is not that I had the upset, but that I haven't had it sooner and more often. I have eaten so many so many new things in questionable places for the last 7months that I consider myself lucky for having had very little trouble. The upset moderated to simple diarrhea after 18 hours and with tetracycline and kaopectate finally disappeared after 4 days. I will say that the bus trip back to Manila was one I'd like to forget.
Other daytrips out of Manila were to Antipolo, a shrine and hill resort one hour from Manila, and to Pompanos State. I went to Pampanga at the invitation of two youngsters who had befriended me. Naturally they are are on the list of hopeful houseboys. I was very interested to visit their homes, one of which was little more than a Nipa hut (on stilts). I was served a lunch of fried rice and especially for the occasion they opened a can of pork and beans. The respective families were quite thrilled to host a foreigner, but I was embarrassed to accept their hospitality as they live at absolute poverty level. To serve iced Coke is a big thing for them but they did it. I was invited to spend the night, but instead caught the bus back to the city.
Not far from the hotel in Manila is a shop selling custom made shoes. I bought a pair and the shop manager (a fifty something widower with four sons)has adopted me. I must stop and visit there everyday at least once. I also was invited and accepted an invite to his birthday party in Marikina (a suburb). He has a tiny house of two rooms where five family members and two boarders stay. There were at least 50 guests at on time or another in the tiny place and I was the honored one. Everyone made sure I was served first, had the best chair, etc etc. Again I was embarrassed but couldn't change it. As there is a nationwide curfew of 1 A.M. it became too late for me to return to the city so I spent the night there. Two sons were relegated to the floor so I could have their bed. The bed was a plywood platform and that's it-no mattress only a mosquito net. I got very little sleep because of the heat and my hip bones were sore for days afterward from the hard slab. Such softies we westerners are!! I was invited repeatedly to move in there and save my hotel money. I'd love saving the money, but with those accommodations I might not survive long. I would judge them typical for lower middle class families.
Speaking of accommodations: Hotel prices in Manila have skyrocketed. The guide book I carry lists 1972 prices and in most cases they have tripled. I have tried three different hotels in Manila and find that the Merchants Hotel is the least I can accept. The rate is 50 pesos ($7.00) a day. In 1972 it was $2.50. It is listed as best value and I guess it still is although not the bargain a a few years back.
Other cheaper places are unsuitable for either cleanliness or facilities or both. Outside Manila the same category would be about 20 pesos or less than one half.
In the city walk and browse and I make a trip every other day to the American Express office to check for mail. There are many movies and they are cheap-50 to 75 cents-so I often go, as much to escape the midday heat as anything else. Though most of old Manila is crowded and dirty, there is a magnificent park just between old and new Manila with fountains, malls, and restaurants. I go there most nights to sit and watch the people and/or hear good outdoor concerts, or maybe watch the skaters. It seems like half the city goes there and I don't blame them as it is a beautiful place and it does get cool evening breezes and of course sometimes the evening rainstorm. I is wise to duck into one of the restaurants for coffee if you see those coming.
Food is not expensive if one stays out of the tourist hotels and restaurants. Native dishes which run to noodles, rice, fish and pork can be had for 4 or 5 pesos
(70cents). Soft drinks are a dime and San Miguel beer is 20 cents. I've discovered a hotel nearby where a lunchtime buffet is served for $1.40. For this you may choose from 25 or 30 meat and fish courses and other goodies-most of them delicious. On days I go there the other meals can be snacks. One local delicacy is "belote", embryonated duck eggs boiled in salt water. Though they are supposed to cure all ills, I still don't like eating that duck fetus inside.
One landmark (plural) is the Jeepney. Basically it is an elongated Jeep converted to a minibus. Each one is gaily and imaginatively painted and is loaded with dozens of chrome knicknacks and many painted slogans. They carry about 12 persons in extreme discomfort, but the cost to ride is 3 cents. They run on a pre-set routes. They are always crowded and in rush hour you can't get on one. Each is individually owned and run as a business. They are in every city, not only Manila.
As the Philippines is a nation of islands, large and small, they have a comprehensive network of shipping by sea. Some liners are primarily for passengers and others for freight, but most carry both. My most recent trip was a sea voyage to Zamboanga City on the southern tip of Mindanao island. It is 800 miles south of Manila and the voyage took two days and two nights, but I spent the third night on the ship because of the late arrival in Zamboanga and the curfew. The fare was 112 pesos, therefore the voyage, food, and bed was less then three nights in a Manila hotel. My particular ship was a large liner carrying lots of freight and about 150 passengers. My ticket was designated "first class without cabin" (there were no cabins on the ship). Bed was a canvas cot, sheets, and a pillow on the upper deck. 2nd class slept on the upper deck but had less protein with their meal. 3rd class were on a lower deck AND got less meat. Thank Providence for plenty of catsup which made the meals edible. Although there was little to do on board, the time passed pleasantly. We were usually in sight of verdant islands and some of the many soldiers on board had brought card decks and chess sets. I played Rummy and chess with them. The locals are chess nuts and I was no match for them, but I gave them
"what for" with the card games..
Mindanao Island and the Sula archipelago to the south are home to many of the Muslims and is the site of a revolt against the central govt. I think the Muslims want autonomy. The quarrel didn't affect me and I found both the Muslims and the Christians to be most hospitable. The city itself is a busy Market and Shipping center for all the surrounding area. The Market place is a joy, right on the waterfront with bounty from the sea and local gardeners that beggers discription. Fish of every size, shape, and hue straight from the sea, or huge sweet, juicy mangoes for a nickle. A good sized fish or 4 smaller ones sell for 30 cents. The vendors are a kaleidoscope of tribal origins and dress. When a fisherman/vendor runs low on stock the Muslim boys dive right into the sea and swim to the boat to bring new stock. I went browsing at the market at least once a day.
Aside from poking around the town I went to a small offshore island or reef for swimming. The water was crystal clear and there were coral reefs and and fish aplenty. The beach was almost deserted except for some naked Muslim urchins. I also took a Jeepney to the outskirts of the little city and continued by foot into the hills on one of many footpaths. There were clean streams and dozens of washerwomen; lots of thatched huts, caribou, tropical flowers, and some of the largest and most brilliantly colored birds and insects I have ever seen. The natives were amazed to see a tourist trekking back in the hills, but uniformly friendly. At one point I traversed a swinging, trembling, suspension footbridge over a stream. The local kids were jumping and scampering on the bridge and howling with glee at my attempts to keep my balance.
Zamboanga more than any other place seems a tropical,southseas paradise. The prices are minuscule and as yet not discovered. I highly recommend it to anyone who need a change of pace. I did see some Americans who were at the local 1st class hotel with Unitours so you better hurry.
On my trip back to Manila I took the ship "Sweet Home", a fine vessel with a set schedule and a varying range of accommodations. It is mostly a passenger ship, but carries some cargo. I left on Friday night and got back to Manila on Monday afternoon. The vessel spent 16 hours in Cebu City so I explored there a bit. I had a proper cabin this time with a good bunk, four bunks to a cabin. It was air conditioned and we had meals in a real dining room. The fare was 140 pesos-still less than spending that time in Manila.

WELL THAT IS IT FOR THIS LETTER, SOME OF THESE THINGS ONE COULDN'T OR SHOULDN'T DO NOW. WHAT GREAT MEMORIES I CARRY FROM MY ADVENTURES IN THE PHILIPPINES !!

The Candy Store Again

2010-04-05T03:32:00.002-06:00

I just got home from a trip and had a chance to look in at the CV blog. Here is the latest photo of our little candy store with some Photoshop enhancement. Enjoy.

Candy Store-Another Pic

2010-03-31T08:52:00.002-06:00

Someone in the Patteson family has come up with another photo of the little store. This looks like it could be in an anthology of America in the 30s. Nora, Walker, and young Floyd are here in the spot where the little Icehouse stood in the previous pic. I would guess this to be older--perhaps about 1939--since Floyd was born in '29. The old trumpet vine is flourishing and the quality of this pic is good enough to read some of the ads. e.g. George Washington, a grand pipe tobacco, 10 cents; or Tops cigarette papers a nickle. We see also that Cabins were available and I remember them on the downhill slope behind. Tourist "cabins" were available in those days along the nations highways--Remember them? Note the bushel basket of melons in front. Can you find other things of interest?

Life Outside of the U.S.

2010-03-21T10:26:00.003-06:00

In the almost 51 years since I graduated from C.V.H.S. and moved out into the "big" world I have had a busy life. I now live full-time in the western mountains of Panama. Below I will describe a few of my stops along the way, and then add a description of life outside of the U.S. after 66 years of living in my native country.

I attended two universities, Kansas State and Oklahoma State. I finally received a B.S. in Radio/TV (journalism) from O.S.U. After working the the TV/radio news business for a few years I opened a retail stereo shop and then went on to start an advertising business in Stillwater, OK.

After I sold the ad business I studied professional interpersonal communication techniques and taught seminars for 3 or 4 years for direct sales organizations. I then moved to the San Francisco bay area and ended up working for 10 years in the computer industry in "Silicon Valley". I never got rich like some of the techies, but it did help my retirement savings.

In 2001 I moved to Nashville, TN to be near my daughter, her husband and their triplets who were born in January that year. In 2007 I moved to Panama and never looked back, except for family... I'm coming to that.

During those years I was married, had one child, divorced and had the same girlfriend in California for 15 + years.

Now, about living outside of the U.S. Just like old age, it ain't for sissies! If you like a set routine and expect people to behave in certain ways that you are familiar with, then you should not even consider moving outside of the states. No other culture, anywhere in the world is the same as ours. People are different, business is different and government offices are different.

However, if you like adventure and having new experiences while learning and accepting cultural differences, then living abroad can have many advantages. One of the most important reasons to live in another country to many of us is that your money goes much farther! Another can be the challenge of meeting new friends. And in my case Panama is an excellent place to pursue my two main interests, photography and ham radio.

The variety of beautiful scenes, birds and people always gives me something to take pictures of in the western highlands. And ham radio is fantastic because of the physical location of the country near both the Pacific and Caribbean oceans.

Because of the lack of "age difference" perception in couples here, many Gringos have Panamanian girl/boyfriends or wives/husbands. For me, all I want/need is a few good friends; local, gringo and in the U.S. I have posted more of my thoughts about this area of Panama on my web site, www.paradisepanama.net.

E-mail is welcome: jay (at) jaymills (dot) org

The Candy Store Photo

2010-03-10T10:59:00.002-07:00

I thought I would take the photo into Photoshop and see if I could bring out any details. Not much there, but you can see some of the store more clearly.

Walker and nora Patterson Store

2010-03-09T21:38:00.002-07:00

Mary Patterson found this pic of the old "candy store" As you see, it is from the uphill side with the old High School in the middle distance. Look closely and you will see the two pumps that stood at the edge of the sidewalk and a more modern pump back against the store. I had forgotten about the little storage bldg/ice house on the uphill side til I saw this pic.
I wish we had a head on view, but this is all we could find. dfc

LET'S KEEP CV MEMORIES BLOG GOING

2010-03-08T10:35:00.002-07:00

In the past,I would regularly check the CV blog to see what new things had been posted. Now I only check it occasionaly because not much is being posted. I assume that mnay of you past readers and contributors are doing the same. LET'S DONT'T LET THE CV BLOG FADE AWAY. To many it's the only remaining connection to past schoolmates, acquaintances and experiences to that great little town in Kansas. Because we can't think of any additional memories we feel would be of interest to others dosen't mean there aren't many other items that can't be posted. What we do know is about ourselves. I for one would be interested in learning about your life after graduating from CV High. What do you chose to do; where did you go to college; when did you get married; about your family; what jobs did you have; where have you lived; what interesting experiences you have had; what trips and places have you been; what achievments have you accomplished that you are proud of, etc. Each reader and past contributor has had interesting life experiences that others would enjoy learning about. It dosen't have to be in one posting, but could be spread out over several segments of your life. SO CV BLOGGERS LET'S KEEP THE CV CONNECTION GOING.

Candy Store

2010-02-21T18:19:00.002-07:00

Who can give me some information on the little candy store that used to be across the street from what is now the high school gym? I believe Pat Patterson's parents owned and operated the store. I remember buying candy there when I was a kid on my way to or from grade school but I don't remember much about the store. Seems like you could buy a lot of candy for 5 or 10 cents.
I guess they also sold grocery items but I don't remember them, I must of only been interested in the candy.

A picture of the store would really be great.

Cedar Vale Fire Truck 1936

2010-01-11T22:14:00.004-07:00

Reva Sawyer just emailed me a link to this photo, which some of you may remember. We wonder where it has been all these years and who took such good care of it. Anybody know anything about the 1936 CV Firetruck? It seems to have been for sale in Wichita for around $17,000.

Wayne's Obit in the Las Cruces Sun Times

2010-01-08T22:39:00.001-07:00

Robert Wayne Woodruff, M.D., 72, died in his sleep on January 03, 2010 of an apparent heart attack. He was a long-time resident of Las Cruces.

Dr. Woodruff was born to Joseph Duane and Ina Neill Woodruff on September 29, 1937 in Winfield, Kansas and lived the first twenty years of his life in Cedar Vale, Kansas. He attended the University of Kansas where he was elected to Phi Beta Kappa, and was a star pitcher for the Jayhawkers baseball team. He graduated from the University of Kansas School of Medicine and served an Internship in Los Angeles County Harbor General Hospital where he met and married Diana May Scott. Dr. Woodruff served a term as a physician officer in the U.S. Army before bringing his wife and three children to Las Cruces in 1972 to fill the town's need for a urologist. For many years, he was one of only two urologists in the Las Cruces area.

Dr. Woodruff will be lovingly remembered as a skilled physician, a loving husband, and a devoted father to his three children. He and his wife, Diana, had forty-two years of happy marriage, and were dedicated to the Las Cruces community. They were heavy benefactors of NMSU and Kansas University, and were strong supporters of NMSU theater, sports, and music. Dr. Woodruff retired from his medical practice in 2004 to care for Diana, who was stricken with Lou Gherig's disease. Diana passed away in March 2006. In memory of his wife, Dr. Woodruff established an endowed scholarship in her name at her alma mater, the University of Oregon.

Dr. Woodruff is survived by his three children: Debbie Woodruff of Las Cruces; Robert (Bob) and his wife, Marlene and their two children, Robbie and Rachel of Cortland, Ohio; and David (Davy) and his wife, Andrea and their four children, Britten, Emory, Davis and Kingsley of Denver, Colorado. Dr. Woodruff is also survived by his sister, Barbara Johnson, and her husband, Marion, of Scottsdale, AZ.

A memorial service for Dr. Woodruff will be held at University United Methodist Church, 2000 South Locust Street , at 1 p.m. on Saturday, January 16, 2010.

Dr. R. Wayne Woodruff (1937-2010)

2010-01-05T12:03:00.002-07:00

R. Wayne Woodruff, M.D., 72, of Las Cruces, N.M., died of an apparent heart attack Sunday, Jan. 3, 2010, at his home in Cortland.

He was born Sept. 29, 1937, in Winfield, Kan., a son of Joseph Duane and Ina Neill Woodruff.

Wayne served as a captain in the Army medical corps during the Vietnam War.

He retired from private practice in urology in Las Cruces and was a member of United Methodist Church in Las Cruces.

Survivors include one daughter, Deborah S. Woodruff of Las Cruces; two sons, Robert W. Woodruff Jr. M.D. of Cortland and David S. Woodruff of Englewood, Colo.; six grandchildren; and one sister, Barbara Johnson of Scottsdale, Ariz.

He was preceded in death by his wife, Diana May Scott Woodruff.

A memorial service will be held Saturday at United Methodist Church in Las Cruces. Cremation was held.

Local arrangements were handled by Shafer-Winans Funeral Chapel in Cortland.

FYI

2010-01-03T16:08:00.002-07:00

It is with a great measure of sadness that I report; Wayne Woodruff was found dead in his home (In Las Cruces, NM I think)this morning. This news comes from Lesta Foster--her brother is married to Barbara Woodruff Johnson who is Wayne's sister. I know nothing more at this point, but wanted to get the news out. We certainly will miss Wayne--such a prolific and determined contributer to our CV Memories Blogsite--and my neighbor as a boy.

Caring, and Kindness of Cedar Vale People

2010-01-02T12:55:00.006-07:00

I have put off writing this. The story of the kindness and caring of Cedar Vale people. I did not know how to start it, and I have such a difficult time typing with tears. 36 yrs later, and still it gets to me.

I have quirk. that I have found, irritates people around me. For no apparent reason, I will have an ‘urge’ to accomplish some task. It just comes over me. This feeling of something that needs to be done now, and nothing can stop me from getting it done. It started when I was young and is with me today. It always turns out that there was a reason to get that task done, then and there.

It was summer, 1972. The only future plan we had was to head to Pittsburg in August for my 10 year High School Reunion. It would be so much fun, and my parents were looking forward to having John stay with them.

On this particular day, I had nothing pressing to do. I was at the store, hanging out. Then suddenly out of no where, this ‘drive’ to get home and get the laundry done and clean and straighten the house. There was nothing pressing going on in our life that this had to be done, only my ‘feeling’ that it had to be done. I went home. I felt so silly doing all this work as if I was on a time table, I was rushing around, cleaning between loads of laundry washing and drying .. Just as I walked into the dinning room from the laundry room, the phone was ringing - I did not want to answer it, had a feeling that it was not good. I stood there frozen. Finally, I reached for the phone, I heard my Mother say in a soft voice, “Sissy Girl”. Oops, now I knew it was not good. The soft voice, the Sissy Girl, gave it away. The next words, “your Daddy’s gong to be okay”. Ok, I knew that line, it was the cover-up my Mother would use. The next line. “You and Jock need to get here as soon as possible.”

I hurried back to the store. People were standing around talking. I can not speak when I am upset, words will not come out of me. I stood there needing to tell Jock, but I couldn’t.

Doris Boone noticed me standing there. She asked me what was wrong. I burst our crying (that is what I do when I am upset, my usual pattern).

We had to get to the hospital, now. Dad was in intensive care, was all we knew at the time. But what about the store? As anyone who owns their own business knows, there are no personal days with pay. Everything around me was like I was there, yet I was not participating. I heard that Mr Goss would cut the meat, I heard the Hankins saying how they would help. Of course Doris and Perry would be there. Jock’s Aunt Stella and Nellie were there. I was hearing these people who just seem to appear at the store saying how each could help to keep the store open. Somebody was going to look after the dogs and cat.

We had clean clothes waiting for us at the house. In no time we were packed and headed for Pittsburg. While we had been at the store with everyone, my mother was on her way to the hospital after calling me, but she had a stop to make on the way; to see a couple she had known for years and went to the same church we did. Mother knocked on their door, when they answered, she told them, “I need for you to pray with me”. She told me later, that right there in their living room, the 3 of them were on their knees praying.

What we learned later, was that Daddy died in the Emergency room. Dad never told us kids, only Mother and his Doctor, that he saw what was going on in the Emergency room. He was even able to tell his Doctor what he heard the Doctor and nurses saying. He heard; “you have to go back”. Dad and his doctor were good friends, they had known each other for years and this was Daddy’s 5th heart attack. The first was in ‘57. That was a bad day in Nov for 3 little kids. My precious Auntie Florence had been staying with us while Mother was in Research Hospital for a week or so awaiting the arrival of a baby. She sat us down on Nov 7, to gently tell us, we had a baby brother, our Mother may not make it home, and Daddy had a heart attack and was at the Hospital. Mother had been preparing us, or trying, for the possibility she may not live through the pregnancy. However, the fear that went through this 13 year old child at that moment hit like a bolt of lightning. How were we going to get our baby brother back to Pittsburg, how are we going to stay together, no body was going to separate us, I pledged to myself.

Now it was 15 years later, and that fear hit me again. That baby brother was now in school. I wanted him to have his Dad longer.

Jock and I slept in the intensive care waiting room. We were allowed to see Dad for just minutes at a time. The first words Dad said, while he was still drugged, “where is my son, Jock. I want my son, Jock.” Daddy loved Jock, as much has he did his own sons. Then Daddy asked, demanded, to see John. That was a terrible decision to make. Daddy was literally fighting the staff. He wanted his grandson. John adored his Grandpa, but for an 8 year old to see his Grandpa like this would be so hard on him. It was the first time they had ever let a child go into the intensive care area. It did calm Daddy. It did leave a terrible memory for my son.

I do not remember how many days all this took place. After we were sure Daddy would be okay, we headed back to Cedar Vale.

The store stayed opened all this time with the help of Cedar Vale friends. I wish I could recall who did what, but that is no longer in my memory bank. They made what was a nightmare situation to us, better. It was such a beautiful experience. I have told people about this story in Denver, in Arkansas, in Kansas, in Florida, and in Georgia. People in 5 states know of the kindness of the people of Cedar Vale, Kansas.

My Mother’s prayers were answered. My heart was filled with joy, I had chosen the best place in the world to live. I was surrounded by wonderful people.

"Lost Battlion of Okinawa"

2010-01-01T18:45:00.007-07:00

Leo Ford and Bob Rozell
of Pawhuska, and Kaw City.

Leo, Son of Mr & Mrs Thomas E Ford, former Cedar Vale residents.

3rd Grade

2010-01-01T16:48:00.002-07:00

Teacher is Mrs Hattie S Ward.

1906 Susie Lavely

2010-01-01T16:36:00.005-07:00

Names on this: N A Baker, E Z Bennett, and C W Sneed.

Susan was the wife of Jacob Lavely. Born in Ohio in 1846. Do not know her maiden name. She had 8 children between the yrs 1866 - 1884.
The first 2 were born in Iowa & Indiana respectively. The 3rd child, Florence H (Flora) was born in Cedar Vale 1872.

Maita was writing to her Nephew, Chuck Ford, on the envelope.

Photo Retouching

2009-12-31T16:53:00.002-07:00

Young Ladies, no names

2009-12-31T12:29:00.002-07:00

These young ladies were friends of Mabel Maud Lavely born Nov 1882 in Jefferson, Chautauqua County, KS. Maude married my Great Uncle Thomas Elijah Ford born April 1880 Marshfield, Webster County, MO.

1897 Spring Branch School

2009-12-31T12:12:00.004-07:00

Clicking on the photo will enlarge it so that the names can be read. I hope these names are familiar to our CedarVale Memories readers. The Lavelys listed are my relatives.

29 Chautauqua County Citizens

2009-12-31T11:25:00.008-07:00

When my Great Uncle, Thomas Elijah Ford, married into the Lavely family, he acquired a big family. He was born in Marshfield, MO., the 10th child of 13. The names on the back of the photo do not match up with the numbers, There seems to be a person behind a man by the window. This is first time I ran into the Cruzan name.
1 Cal Lavely b 1879
2 Anna (Schalls) Lavely b 1879
3 Emma Brown Lavely b 1878
4 Wilse (Henry Wilson) Lavely b 1874 Jefferson Twnshp (holding baby -
5 Harry Lavely b 1907
6 George Cruzan ?
7 Mable Ford b 1882
8 Flora Cruzan (Florence Lavely) b 1872
9 Thomas E Ford b 1880, MO
10 Jake Cruzan b ?
11 Alta (Lavely) Edwards b 1876
12 Fax (Wilbur Colfax) Lavely 1869 or
?? Owen Lavely b 1884
13 Cora (? Maiden) Lavely b 1876 MO
14 ??
Grant Lavely 1866 Holding baby -#16 Gilbert Lavely - 1908
15 Susie Lavely (Jacob's wife) b 1847
16 Baby - Gilbert Lavely
17 IS this Grant ???
18 Jacob Lavely b 1839
19 Floy Lavely 1894
20 B Lavely??
21 Wesley Lavely b 1904
22 Alma Lavely b 1902
23 Ralph Cruzan (cap on) mother: Florence Lavely b 1872
24 Gus Cruzan
25 John Truman Edwards b 1904 Jefferson Twnsp (mother Alta)
#26 Willa Lavely
#27 Goldie Lavely b 1905
#28 Zella Lavely b 1898

Those Last Photos

2009-12-29T21:35:00.004-07:00

Not as much that I could do for these as some of the others.

Ed Halliday Farm, 2 miles w of Hewins

2009-12-29T19:12:00.003-07:00

Maita was born 1905, so this fire would have been around 1910. I am in hopes someone can shed more light on this story.

2009-12-29T17:32:00.003-07:00

Calvin H Lavely, Bob (Barbara Z) and Cora 1876 – 1962 Lavely.

Barbara Z Lavely, former Broadway actress.

2009-12-29T17:10:00.004-07:00

Funeral services for Mrs Barbara Zelma Lavely, 74, 404 N Second St.,
who died at 4 a.m. Monday in Memorial Hospital, will be at 9 a.m. Wednesday in Sacred Heart Catholic Church, with Rev, Raymond Miller, officiating. There will be a rosary Tuesday at 7:30 p.m.. In Erdman-Oldroyd Funeral Chapel.
She was born in Temple, Tex., Jan 21, 1891, to Michael Harvey Hawkins and Amanda Jane Casey Hawkins.
She moved from Texas to Oklahoma City in 1897. Later she moved to New York City, NY and as a young woman was a professional actress and singer appearing in several Broadway plays and making several movies,
She married Calvin Hays Lavely on Jan 26, 1958, in Cedar Vale.
She moved to Arkansas City about four years ago from a ranch in Grenola, following the death of her husband.
She is survived by two nieces, Mrs Evan E Davis and Mrs W C Durham, both of Oklahoma City.
Burial will be in the Memorial Lawn Cemetery, Under the direction Erdman-Oldroyd Funeral Chapel.

Three of those old pictures

2009-12-29T16:14:00.002-07:00

Recognize these girls?

2009-12-29T16:08:00.003-07:00

This post card was addressed to Anna Lavely, in Mercy Hospital in Arkansas City. Date stamp is 5 Feb 1910. The girls on the other side of the card do not have names. In hopes they may look familiar to someone. Anna was first wife of Calvin H Lavely.
There are several Post Cards like this with Stamp written on the front.

2009-12-29T15:34:00.003-07:00

This is addressed to Mrs Susie Lavely. Susie (25 Jul 1847 died 21 Feb 1933 Cedar Vale) was the wife of Jacob W Lavely born 24 Dec 1839 in Ohio, died 7 May 1918 Cedar Vale. The Post Card is Post marked 4 Sept 1909 Fostoria, OH. It was sent by Cora Richardson, telling of a reunion. The little boy on the right is the son of the Cora. Note the 1 cent stamp and lack of address.

Sunday Morning

2009-12-29T14:59:00.003-07:00

Ford/Lavely family.
Another one of those Old Post Cards. No names on this. As I go through pictures may be able to figure names for these.

1910 4th of July

2009-12-29T14:34:00.004-07:00

Recognize this place?? I had walked where my Great Aunt by marriage, and my cousins had walked, 60 years earlier. This is Mable Maude Lavely Ford holding Thomas Wayne Ford (born 1909 Cedar Vale), Goldie Lavely (12 Feb 1905 Chautauqua County), daughter of US Grant Lavely and Cora.

Mae Allen, Teacher

2009-12-29T13:33:00.005-07:00

This Souvenir is in the Journal created by Maita Ford born 2 March 1905 Chautauqua County, Jefferson Township. At age 5 she was in Harrison Township. I know you will enjoy reading the names of the students.

Maita's father was my Grandmother Ford's brother. This week I have been offered the opportunity to know Maita. I sit here with 3 journals that she wrote, a big box of pictures of her family, my family. I never knew her. I never knew that my relatives lived in CedarVale until recently. I never knew my Grandmother Ford. Oh how I wish I could grap these and run over to Nellie Walkinshaw's house and show them to her. How I wish I could show them to my Dad. 1913 is the year printed on the front. My Dad would have been 5 yrs old, living in Wilson County. I doubt he even knew his Uncle Thomas Elijah Ford even existed, let alone lived about 81 miles away.
Maita's mother was Mabel Maud Lavely. And the cousins who broght these to me, we did not know about each other until recently.

Reading Maita's journal I am meeting me. We have the same interests in so many things. She was a teacher. She was creative with her hands. She vauled education. She loved animals, even letting the baby deer into the house. (I would do that, really) As she wrote these she was in terrible pain, as I read these I am in pain. We are connected in so many ways. From the rush weaved ladder back chair, the woven Peacock chair, right down to the sewing table. I fought back tears this morning when I found the picture of the sewing table.

When she was writing some of these words she was in Pryor, OK I was in Cedar Vale. I was 130 miles from her during her life and mine. But now, I get to know her, her Journals are like a window into her soul.

There is so much joy in reading these Journals. Joy in finding and meeting my cousins Russell and Chuck. Joy in fact they are sharing all this with me. And joy that I can share these pictures of Cedar Vale and stories that I come across with you, my Cedar Vale Memories friends.

Roundup at the Borum Ranch, 1955

2009-12-22T06:44:00.005-07:00

An invitation from Margaret to go with her family to “the ranch” was something one just said “’yes” to without question. There was something about the ranch that held an excitement and mystic of not really knowing what we would be doing for the day or two lying ahead. This time, however, was different. We were going to help with, or in my case, observe, the spring roundup.

It was early spring when cowboys from most of the ranches in the area would gather at one ranch to help round up their cattle for branding and sorting and medication. Since Margaret and I were good friends, I didn’t protest when we were told to get up at about 3:30 am. We were horse-back at 4:00 and we headed south of the ranch house where the action was. We were a party of at least four: Mrs. Robinson, Margaret, Margaret’s brother, Jimmy, and me.

We made our way to the top of a knoll where we had an excellent view. We were trying to stay warm with our chins tucked down in the warmth of our coats. All except Margaret, whose horse was prancing around as she pleaded with her mother, asking to be allowed to go down and help with the roundup. With admonitions to be careful, Margaret was off!

It was a fascinating scene in the early morning fog and it was cold enough for steam to come out of the noses of horse, livestock and men amid the mix of dust, steam and smoke from the fire where branding irons were being kept hot for the next victim!

To add to the whole picture was the sound of the cowboys calling out and calves bawling. It seemed like a happening from 100 years ago. Even though I never again experienced anything like this day, I can still see it vividly as a nostalgic memory.

There are no doubt newer methods and techniques for round-up in current time (2009), but I will always remember the way it was on the Borum Ranch in 1955.

Thinking of getting back to the warm ranch house and crawling into bed, we opened the door to wonderful smells of breakfast. The big wooden table had been lengthened and was covered with huge platters of
breakfast meats, fried potatoes, eggs, flapjacks and biscuits. Big bowls of gravy were passed and some of the ladies who came to help from other ranches were serving steaming hot coffee from huge black pots that looked like they had been used for years.

In the kitchen Hazel Hines was cooking and had everything under control while laughing and joking with everyone. I knew Hazel as a beloved member of the Robinson’s extended family. Both she and her husband Earl were fixtures at the house in town and on the ranch as well. Earl so good humored the way he teased us kids and threatened to put us over his knee and tan our hides with a hickory stick.

The cowboys came in the back door after stomping their dirty boots on the ground outside, getting rid of most of the mud and manure. They were a loud bunch that quieted down as they sat at the table and started eating. There was no excuse for anyone to leave hungry as refills kept coming. The talk was rough and Margaret and I received some teasing which we probably didn’t understand, but liked the attention anyway.

I don’t remember exactly, but I know we both ended up in massive living room chairs, cuddled up in Indian blankets taking naps until being awakened for the trip back home to Cedar Vale.

This memory came to me recently and I feel so fortunate to have been a friend of Margaret Robinson’s and to have been included in so many activities thanks to the Robinsons. Special times which are now special memories to cherish forever.

Fwd: GRACE MULLENBERG

2009-12-08T10:21:00.001-07:00

----------
From: Verona Buchele

Grace(Mullenberg) and my dad (Paul Buchele) were in the same high school class. They stayed in touch through the years and Mom (Helen) and Dad traveled with Grace on some of her research excursions. They shared an interest in Kansas history and the Post Rock fences. Grace lived in Manhattan for many years but when she could no longer drive (2002 or 2003), moved to where her son George lived. Jetmore comes to mind, but that might be totally wrong. She passed away a few years ago (2005 or 2006, I think).

Iris's Photos

2009-12-07T06:39:00.004-07:00

Iris,

Thought you might like to see a couple of those old photos brightened up a bit. Enjoy!

Cherokee Strip Cowpunchers Association (CSCPA)

2009-12-06T07:45:00.002-07:00

Does anyone have information on the Cherokee Strip Cowpunchers Association (CSCPA)? Stonewall J. “Tony” Montgomery (1864-1955) was one of the 621 members. He and his wife, Laura “Annie” Nesbitt, settled in Cedar Vale, Kansas, where they established their own ranch that included leased range in the nearby Osage Nation. Montgomery and his family, including ten children, ranched in Chautauqua County, Kansas, and the Osage County, Oklahoma area for the remainder of their lives. They are both buried in the Cedar Vale Cemetery.

2009-12-05T11:09:00.008-07:00

This lady, many may recall is Dr Rosie. When I moved to CV in '69 the hospital was closed. Dr Rosie played a big part in the lives of the Walkinshaw's. But more on that later.

A friend e-mailed me, wanted to know about the guy sitting at the counter at the Hill Top when Mr Treadway, Superintendent of Cedar Vale Schools was interviewing me. (Previous posting) It has taken me awhile to add to the story.

Little did I know when Jock Walkinshaw took me to the Green Door that was going to end up with lots of Pizzas and Tacos to follow. Lots of driving to Winfield and Ark city in the yellow Mustang, playing Bobby Gentry on the 8 track. After about the 3rd date, I asked him again what his last name was. That name would not stay in my memory bank. I had not seen it written, therefore I had a hard time remembering a ‘different’ word. I explained this to him, as he did give me a look that said, and she went to College?

Jock had a simple answer. If we get married, you can just pull out the check book to read the name. So standing there at the front door of the little house on the dirt road was the beginning of a new chapter in the life of 2 total strangers who had spied each other at the Hill Top Café.

I am looking at the yellowed copy cut from the CedarVale Messenger published May 7, 1970. Rev Otis S Bussart,. Norman Koester, Jolenne Sanders gathered at the United Methodist Church. Family came. My precious Auntie Florence and husband, Brent, came from Wichita. My family came from Pittsburg, Mom, Dad and 17 yr old brother. My other brothers were in the Army. Within a few weeks, we were in our new home, “the Cox house”, next door to the Montgomerys on Caney. Since we were so close to Nellie, John did not have far to go to see Grandma Nellie and Sinbad and all the kittens that Sinbad brought to her.

John, Jock and I made a trip to see a lawyer. There was a name change to be made. John was going to now be a Walkinshaw. The judge tried to tease John, as the child was so serious (most unusual for Mr happy go lucky). “I just want to be a Walkinshaw, like them,” he said with tears. “If you change my name from John, no one will know me”. When we got home, he sat down to learn to spell it

I do not recall when Dr Rosie came to Cedar Vale. I know I was glad to have a doctor in town, as I suffered terribly with migraine headaches. I came to know and love Dr Rosie. When I was pregnant with Katrina, I was ordered to bed. John made sure I followed doctor’s orders. He had twigs by the fireplace before he went to school if I wanted a fire, but “do not pick up those logs, Mommy”. He stood on a chair to turn on the washing machine. He and Jock would fold clothes, and I would hear them debate, “my mom does it this way”. “My mom does it this way”. John had been asking for a baby brother since his kindergarten days, and now he was older, had toys that he did not want a little brother messing with, so he wanted a sister.

John was at school when his sister arrived. Jock called the school to tell him. His teacher let him go to each class room to make the grand announcement. Only in a small town would this happen The hospital was just right for little brothers, the designers probably never gave that a thought. But a little brother can stand outside and look in the window at his new red hair sister.

Jock could not wait to go get cigars and pass them out. He came back to ask me what her name was. He had been telling people her name was Kristine, it was Katrina. Katrina Marie Walkinshaw. So out he rushed again. Dr Rosie was as excited as we. She worked very hard, also, to bring that little gal into the world. All night, she never left me. After wards, she carried Katrina down the hall, and washed her up herself

I was in a room, they brought Katrina to me inside an enclosed crib. I wanted to hold her, a nurse said no. I asked to see Dr Rosie, now. She came in with that strong, loving personality. She told the nurse to put that baby on my heart, I had carried her under my heart, now I should be able to have her on top What Dr Rosie said, that was it. Every March 7, thru the years, yellow roses would arrive for Dr Rosie from a very great full mother.

John stood outside at the window, Jock lifted him up. He wanted to know why his sister was in an ‘air container”. Katrina & I got home, and every night after school, she had visitors. Her brother loved to show off his sister.

Now the window at the store had a new purpose. It held a baby, while we worked. It had been great for a place to make a little bed for John when he was smaller.

I called her “the Judge”. She was not into this ‘cutsie’ baby stuff. She studied people. She stayed that way. Very serious. John had been the, “Hello world, I am here, life is fun” child. Katrina was the “is there any sing of intelligent life around here” child.

John was the best big brother, took great care of his sister. He came home with his shirt torn and covered with dirt. “A kid made fun of my sister’s red hair. I HAD to beat him up. No body makes fun of my sister.” He would drag her out of the crib on Saturdays, “let’s let Mommy sleep” I would hear him say. He played with her with the educational game. “No one is ever going to call YOU stupid”, “now, lets do it again”. He had dealt with dyslexia. School had its challenges for him. Today, 35 years later, they are still the best of friends. Katrina goes to her big brother for advice.

Every year, around Easter I would take pictures of John and the Sanders boys. Now there was a new person in the group. They are on slides, I hope to get them scanned and add them. With my constant back pain, I do not make it to the computer/book room often. Let alone do anything when I get there

I had told John that day we saw CedarVale from the top of the hill in ‘69 that we were going to find love. I kept all the promises to my little boy. I got him the dog. I got him a sister he loves dearly.

4 Generations of Cables

2009-12-05T11:05:00.003-07:00

Natalie Cable had this wonderful picture on her Facebook page. She said to go ahead & add to CV Memories.

4 Generations, right, Harold Cable, holding Bruce, middle, Harold's father Charlie & Charlie's father Bennett.