When my son David was five years old, he asked me the question; "Mom, when you were a little girl ; Was the world black and white?" "Wasn’t there any color?" When I asked him why he asked me that question he replied; "Well, all the pictures of you as a little girl are all black and white; Why isn’t there any color?" After I had quit laughing I explained to him that when I was a child, our camera used black and white film, so everything appeared in the picture without color. Since that time I have realized the days of my childhood were spent in a time and in a way that in comparison to my adult life is as different as black and white.

I was born in 1937, a year sandwiched between what is commonly called the "Great Depression" and World War II referred to by Archie Bunker as the "big one."

The stock market crash of 1929, had placed the world into a time of great financial crisis. People who lived in the larger cities were committing suicide because they had lost everything in the stock market. Huge fortunes were lost and there were no jobs because industry had shut down. Men, women and children would stand in line for hours for a free bowl of soup or a loaf of bread.

People who lived in rural areas fared a little better because they could plant crops and grow their food supply. There was very little money to buy food and as a result Daddy and Grandpa Hampton had to make Railroad cross- ties by hand for twenty-five cents each and we planted a field of cotton each year to buy grocery items we couldn’t raise in our fields. I remember picking that cotton by hand. Everyone had their own cotton sack they draped over their shoulder as they moved slowly through the rows of cotton. I had my own personal cotton sack. It was very small but I was expected to do my share. My small hands and fingers were very tender and when I would attempt to pick the cotton, I found it to be very painful. When we had finished with the cotton, it was piled high on the front porch until Daddy could find a way to take it to the cotton gin in Talihina. I remember how much fun we had playing in that cotton.

When I was very small, I would hear the adults talking about the depression and the hardship they endured. My Daddy would tell an exaggerated story about going squirrel hunting for food. He would grin and tell how Mama and Granny would stand outside, waiting for him to return. They would have their hands above their eyes, shading them from the sun, looking to see if he had brought home something to eat. When they saw he had a squirrel or two, they would jump up and down and clap their hands. My mother would be aggravated when he would tell the story and say it wasn’t true, but I believe where there’s smoke there must be a little fire and I remember eating quite a few squirrels in my early childhood years.

The hardship of survival continued until the United States was drawn into World War II.

Hitler and his Axis allies were invading all of Europe but the United States was not involved in the affairs of Europe until Japan bombed Pearl Harbor.

When America joined the war, a way of life passed away that will never be seen again. Every able bodied man joined the military and the women were forced to leave their jobs as homemakers and go to work in factories and ship yards to supply ammunition and products needed to support the war. Gas and many grocery items, such as sugar, were rationed because there was a short supply of these and other products. Women had to wear shoes with bare legs because there weren’t any silk stockings to be found.

The adults were very concerned about the progress of the war. In those days we had no television and our link to the outside war was a the Grit newspaper and a battery operated radio. The battery was huge and had to be replaced periodically. I always took the old battery and tore into it so I could take out the cells inside and pretend they were dynamite. I spent many hours throwing the cells at those despised Nazi soldiers.

Newsreels of the war were featured along with the movies shown in theaters, and many war pictures were filmed during this time. We lived in a rural area and it was very seldom we were able to see a movie. I was terrified of the Germans and Japanese, especially when I saw a movie about the German invasion of Poland. I saw the German soldiers using their bayonets to kill the Polish people as they found their hiding place. In my mind I spent many hours trying to find a safe hiding place when the Germans came. I imagined hiding under every bush and behind every tree in the pasture. It weighed so heavily on my mind that I would dream about it at night and in my dreams I never found a place where I felt safe from those deadly bayonets.

I remember one day when Grandpa came home from Gilmore’s Grocery store and told us that he heard General Eisenhower had surrendered in Europe and the war would now be fought in the United States! I was horrified when I heard the news, but soon discovered it wasn’t true when we listened to our faithful battery operated radio.

The radio served more purpose than keeping us informed of world affairs. I learned to love soap operas as I sat around the radio and listened to them with Mama and Granny. We heard about the troubles that plagued, Young Widow Brown, Portia Faces Life, Lorenzo Jones, Guiding Light and Judy and Jane. I was fascinated as I listened to the words and sounds coming from the old radio, and imagined in my mind how the people would look if I could just see them.

Evening time was also a time to sit around the radio and listen to popular shows that featured characters such as Jack Benny, George Burns and Gracie Allen, Amos and Andy and the scariest one of all, Inner Sanctum. It was a show that featured a creaking door opening and that was very frightening to a child’s ear. Grandpa liked The Lone Ranger and wouldn’t miss it. He would sit with his ear near the radio and I remember one day after the Lone Ranger ended the show saying, "Hi Ho Silver, away!" Grandpa turned and looked at me and said in very serious tone, "I don’t believe there ever was a Lone Ranger."

Saturday night was spent listening to the Grand Ole Opry with neighbors who came to visit. While the women visited and the men played dominoes, the stars of the Opry sang their hearts out over the air. The kids would gather in the kitchen to play and dance to the music.

The house we lived in was an old dog trot style house made of raw unpainted lumber. It had three rooms on one side of an open hallway, with two rooms on the other side. A sod chimney stood on one side of the house where bumble bees made their nests each year. Our walls were wide vertical rough boards with cracks in between each board. We papered the inside of the house to keep out the wind, and when we were ready to hang new paper, we would just paper over the original layer. In order to keep the paper from pulling away from the tacks, we cut small squares of cardboard and nailed each tack through the tiny squares. When the wind blew I could hear dirt dauber nests crumble and fall between the outside walls and the several layers of paper. Many nights I could hear mice having a great time inside the walls. Once when I was asleep I was awakened by a mouse running across my face and I woke up screaming.

The floors were made of rough boards with cracks between each board so wide you could see the ground under the house in many places. In the winter months cold air would blow up between the cracks. Granny Hampton would order linoleum for each room but it was never wall to wall so we tried to sit in the center of the room where there was no draft. When we mopped the floor, we dipped a mop in soapy water and scrubbed the whole floor without wringing the mop. We would rinse the floor by pouring clean water from a bucket over the floor and sweep it through the cracks with a broom.

Mamma and Granny hated the old sod fireplace, and one day when Daddy and Grandpa were gone they got hoes, picks and battering rams and poked holes all over the chimney. Me and my sister Darlene helped tear it down and when we were finished we were all covered with dirt and soot. You can imagine the surprise when Daddy and Grandpa came home. They were very upset but the chimney couldn’t be saved. It was replaced by a wood burning heater that was placed in the living room. I remember one day there was a lot of excitement when the stove pipe got hot and caught the house on fire. Everyone was running all around grabbing buckets and carrying water from the well to throw on the fire.

The heater had a large round pan placed below the opening where the ashes were removed each day. Some of the ashes were left in the pan and used as a spittoon. Everyone in the family either chewed tobacco or dipped snuff, with the exception of the children. On cold winter nights they would all sit around the stove with tobacco in their mouth. I would watch them spit their tobacco and talk about the world news and what was happening in the valley where we lived.

Aunt Ivy Cooley the valley mid wife, would come and visit with Mama and Granny. She was a short plump gray haired lady that had a special way of spitting that really impressed me. She would place two fingers to her mouth and spit between them. She was a sharp shooter and never missed the pan of ashes. I couldn’t say the same about the others, for there was always a large round brown circle around the spittoon on the linoleum. Aunt Ivy was my tobacco hero and I wanted to learn to spit like her. I would beg Mama for a dip of snuff and when she would refuse, I would offer to do the dishes for a dip. For some reason this worked and I would try to spit like aunt Ivy, but I didn’t have the power she had and usually got snuff all over my hands and lap.

Mama had a brother, Uncle Jess Hampton, who used to come and visit us from Arkansas. He was a great tobacco chewer. The tobacco he used was Beechnut and smelled so good. One day I sneaked some tobacco from his Beechnut bag and ran outside to chew it. I have never been so sick as I was that day. I thought I would never be able to eat again.

Granny kept every piece of material she could find to be used in making quilts. She had several quilt patterns and we would spend many hours cutting pattern pieces to be sewn together later. Many hours was spent piecing quilt tops by hand from material cut from old clothes that were discarded because they were either worn out or outgrown. We would cut pieces of cloth and sew them together in a pattern and then we would sew them all together and make a quilt top.

The quilt top was placed over a backing with filler between and then stretched on a quilting frame anchored from the ceiling in the back room of the house. We would sit around the quilt with our needle, thread and thimbles and stitch around every piece in the pattern. I had my own needle and a small thimble for my finger and tried to make the smallest stitches I could. When we were finished we had a nice warm quilt. In the winter time we had so many home made quilts on the bed it was hard to turn over and change positions.

Sometimes some of the neighbor ladies would come over and help with the quilting. They would quilt away telling one tale after the other and dip their snuff. I learned the deepest, darkest secrets of almost everyone in the valley. I still could tell tales……!

For years our yard was bare of grass and we kept it swept clean with a broom. The ground was hard and smooth and we had a lot of fun playing hop-scotch on the clean swept yard. Mama and Granny were tired of sweeping the yard and wanted Bermuda grass. The grass quickly covered the ground and Grandpa Hampton had to mow the yard with an ancient hand pushed lawn mower. I can see him now, great drops of sweat falling off his nose, while he pushed the mower saying; "I hate this Moody grass!"

There were flowers everywhere. We had crepe myrtle bushes, rose of sharon, daffodils, irises, peonas, roses and Mama’s favorite, a lilac bush.

We had a birdhouse in the corner of the yard where Martins would build their nest in the Spring. We would sit on the front porch each evening and watch them fight off the sparrows who wanted to build there too. When It began to get dark, the fireflies or "lightening bugs," would come out and we would get off the porch and catch them. Grandpa would sit on the porch watching us and say over and over again, " You kids had better get back on this porch or you’ll step on a "ground rattler." We would ignore him and he would keep repeating himself until we finally got back on the porch. One night I dreamed I was in the yard catching lightening bugs and I saw snakes all over the yard. Terrified, I ran to the porch and with all my strength tried to get to safety. Everything was in slow motion but I finally got everything on the porch except my big toe! It was hanging off the edge and a snake was just about to bite me when I woke up. From that time on when Grandpa would tell us to get on the porch, I was the first one there.

The hallway of the house was the coolest spot in the summertime. We didn’t have electricity for years and the heat inside the house was almost unbearable during the summer months. We would sit in the large hallway in our rocking chairs and read or piece quilts. I remember Granny sitting in her rocking chair with her feet in a pan of cool well water, a wet wash cloth on her head and fanning frantically with a free cardboard fan furnished by Drake’s Funeral Home in Talihina. One side of the fan had a beautiful picture and the other side their promise to provide excellent service.

It was so hot in the summertime we moved our beds outside under a tree or on the porch. I remember trying to sleep inside the house but was so miserable I hung my head out of the window trying to get cool enough to go to sleep. It was so hot many times I dreamed I was in hell and couldn’t get out.

We had no screens on the windows and flies were everywhere. Babies would sleep on the bed under "mosquito bars." It was a mesh net placed over the child to protect it from flies and mosquitoes. We used Oil of Citronella to repel the mosquitoes at night while we slept.

I remember one summer in particular the county decided to spray each home with DDT, to help control the fly population. I was walking home from a neighbors house when I saw a big bull inside a fence. I decided that I would have a little fun and began to taunt the bull. I would bend over, rake my foot in the dirt and make horrible sounds trying to sound like another bull. I bellowed and pawed the ground for several minutes. The bull became enraged and began to do the same. I was very smug and felt totally safe, because he was on the other side of the fence. Finally, I tired of the game and began to walk on. I happened to look back and to my surprise the bull was crawling through the fence! I was terrified and didn’t know what to do. I ran off the highway and tried to crawl through a barbed wire fence and got caught on the barbs. There I was, the wire was cutting my legs when I moved, my clothes were ripping and tearing and an angry red Herford bull was coming after me. After what seemed like an eternity, the county sprayers came along in their pickup, and the men chased the bull away. I was so ashamed I forced myself through the fence, tearing my clothes to get free from the barbs and continued home through the pasture. I was so glad the men didn’t know me but to my surprise when I got home they were there spraying the house. They recognized me immediately and began to scold me for teasing the bull. They told me that it was a very dangerous thing I did. Mama was very upset with me especially when she saw my clothes. I was so embarrassed as I stood there being lectured by the county men and looking at the anger on Mama’s face. I don’t remember getting a spanking, but the experience was bad enough it was stamped forever in my mind.

The first few years of my life was spent without electricity. We kept our milk and butter cool by letting it down into the well of water outside the house. We placed it in syrup buckets to keep the water out. Eventually we got an ice box and the ice man would come once a week. We had a sign we would place near the road on a tree, with the numbers twenty-five, fifty, seventy-five and one-hundred on it. The number that was on top informed the ice man know how much ice we needed that day. The ice was placed inside the ice box and food placed around it. As it melted the water dripped into a pan under the box and had to be emptied from time to time. I remember a few times we would get extra ice and make home made ice cream. We had no ice cream freezer, so we placed the mixture into a bucket, inserted the bucket into a larger container filled with ice. We rotated the bucket right and left until the mixture was frozen. From time to time Daddy would check to see how the ice cream was coming along. He would take a knife and run it around the inside of the bucket and let me lick the knife when he was through. There’s nothing in the world better in my memory than that home made ice cream.

During those days in Buffalo Valley, people didn’t eat their cattle. It was more valuable to sell them and use the money for the necessary things we needed throughout the year, and also because there was no electrical refrigeration to keep the meat from spoiling. I remember a time when one of our cows got run over by a passing motorist. Daddy and Grandpa skinned it, cut it up and Mama and Granny stayed up all night frying the meat. When it was done they packed the meat into glass jars and poured melted grease over it and sealed the jar. That particular year we had beef all year long, greasy but it was beef nevertheless.

We ate lots of pork. We always had hogs in a pen and would fatten them up with "slop." The large slop can was in the kitchen and everything went into it. Table scraps, dirty dishwater, and Grandpa would add a feed called "shorts" to it and then feed it to the hogs. They would squeal and root each other out of the way like it was heavenly hash!

We waited until a nip of frost could be felt in the air before we killed the hogs. Grandpa and Daddy would kill the hogs and lay them on a board beside two big black pots of boiling water outside. They would pour scalding water over the hogs and everyone would get a knife and begin to scrape the hair off their body. When this was done, Grandpa, who was a true gentleman and very protective concerning the modesty of women and young girls, would hang the hogs onto a tree and take the intestines out. He would allow me to watch him dress the hogs until he had to cut out the hogs "privates" then he would make me go inside the house. I would go inside but having the curiosity of a cat, I would peep out the kitchen window and watch him do the dirty deed.

A distant relative told the story about meeting Grandpa Hampton at his half-brother’s funeral. While everyone was in the home visiting, the relative saw Grandpa whisper in another brother’s ear. They both left the house and returned a short time later. The relative found out later that Grandpa needed to use the restroom, and refused to use the one in the house, because he was afraid the women would hear him. He was a true gentleman In every sense of the word, especially toward the female specie.

Granny’s job was to take the intestines from the hog and would remove all the visible fat from around the intestines. She would let me help her and when we were finished the fat was placed into the two black pots surrounded by fire and rendered down. The fat was stored into containers and kept to be used as cooking grease and the pieces of meat, "cracklings" that didn’t melt down were used to make lye soap.

We used lye soap for everything. We washed our clothes in it, washed dishes with it and used it to keep our hair squeaky clean. A little apple cider vinegar was placed in our rinse water to keep our hair soft and shiny.

On hog killing day we had a feast. Mama and Granny would cook fresh ribs and tenderloin. We would all sit around the big kitchen table and eat until we were "grease foundered." Grandpa and Daddy would then make sausage. The rest of the meat was cured and hung in our smoke house. Grandpa would rub salt into the ham, shoulders and sides of bacon. He would then rub brown sugar into the meat. After this long procedure, he would hang the meat on hooks suspended from the ceiling. The meat was then smoked from a fire below. When this was all done the meat would not spoil through the winter.

In the winter time we just tried to keep warm. Our days were spent sitting around the one large heater in the living room. Grandpa and Daddy would keep the wood box full of wood, and most every day there would be a big pot of pinto beans cooking on top of the heater. Each morning Grandpa would get up very early and build a fire in the heater and the cook stove in the kitchen. Mama and Granny would then go to the kitchen and make biscuits for breakfast. The only time we had eggs for breakfast was in the spring and summer when the hens were laying their eggs. In the winter time we had biscuits, gravy, bacon and oatmeal. Sometime mama would make chocolate gravy that was a real treat for us because we seldom had dessert.

Grandpa, Daddy and Buddy milked the cows. My sister Darlene was also good at milking the cows. I wanted to milk and tried my best time and time again but was not very successful. The cow always wanted to kick me.

The fresh milk was strained through a clean white cloth and was placed in the refrigerator overnight and heavy cream would collect on top of it. Mama and Granny would skim off the cream, place it in a churn and churn it until it became butter. They would salt the butter, place it in a butter mold and then it was ready to eat. I always loved to put fresh churned butter on a hot biscuit or a piece of fresh baked cornbread. The milk left over from the churn was allowed to clabber and became buttermilk.

There were no paved roads in Buffalo Valley and very few cars. For many years our transportation was a wagon with iron wheels. Grandpa would hitch our horses, John and Jim, to the wagon and we would go to Gilmore’s country store once a month. Sometimes Grandpa would let me drive and I loved to hold the reins and yell out "Gee" to go to the right and "Hah" to go left.

I remember the day Grandpa put rubber tires on the wagon. It was heaven to ride in it. The ride was so smooth and there was no loud noise.

Gilmore’s store was a wonderful place to a child’s eye. It was a typical country store and I will never forget the wonderful smell of it. Grandpa always got me a treat. I remember large Baby Ruth candy bars, long sticks of super bubble gum, and a special kind of hard candy with toasted cocoanut on the outside we called a Chicken Leg. A few times I would get a banana which was a special treat and I wanted it to last as long as possible. I would eat all around the outside of the banana and then I would slowly eat the inside of it. The bubble gum lasted forever. I would chew it all day and then stick it on the bedpost at night.

I loved bubble gum and I have shared a true story with my Grandchildren. I have named this story:

One day at school during recess, I was running across the school yard and what I saw something that stopped me cold in my tracks! On the ground, right before my very eyes was the biggest wad of bubble gum I had ever seen. Someone had chewed it and then spit it out onto the ground. There it was, almost under my feet! I looked at the gum and my mouth began to water as I imagined it in my mouth. I wanted to pick it up but I knew the other kids would laugh at me. Just then the school bell rang and I had to go to class and leave the gum on the ground.

All afternoon in my minds eye all I could see was that big wad of bubble gum laying on the ground. It seemed as if it was calling; "Come and get me!" Come and get me!" Then my eyes began to twinkle and I devised a plan!

I decided that when the last bell rang and the other kids went out the front door to get on their busses, I would wait a while until they were all out of sight and then I would go out the back of the building, pick up the gum and put it in my mouth! What a wonderful plan! I could hardly wait for the bell to ring. I waited and waited and it seemed like forever until I heard the welcome sound of the school bell.

I was so excited! I waited for a few moments to make sure the kids were all gone and then I ran out the back door. I knew the bus would be leaving soon so I ran as fast as I could to the place where I had seen the gum. My face fell! My shoulders drooped in defeat! Someone else had gotten there before me, and the gum was gone! End of Story.

I REALLY DID WANT THAT BUBBLE GUM

We always had lots of chickens. Grandpa had built them nests to lay their eggs in but some of the hens decided to lay their eggs under the floor of the house. It was my job to crawl underneath the house and retrieve the eggs. It was a very scary thing to do because there wasn’t very much room between the floor of the house and the ground. One day in particular I was inching my way toward a large pile of eggs, when I got caught between the floor and the ground. I could not move an inch forward or backward! I was in a panic, I could feel the floor of the house touching my back and my nose was literally on the ground! I knew I couldn’t make a sound, because I would have to open my mouth and I would get a mouthful of dirt. I screamed in my head! I can’t possibly describe the horror I was feeling.

Finally, a voice in my head told me to force myself to be calm and try to work my way backward. I started to move and it seemed like an eternity before I got out from under the house. I never did it again and as a result of this terrifying experience, I now have claustrophobia.

Across the road from our house was a small shallow creek where crawdads lived. I would wade in the water and turn over the rocks until I found a crawdad. They were usually ready to put up a fight. They would face me with their tail tucked under and their pinchers ready to do battle. I would always win however and when I had caught several of them, I would clean them and cook their tails. I loved the taste and when I grew up I couldn’t wait to eat a lobster’s tail. I was very disappointed.

Summertime was a time to fish! I would get my cane pole, dig up some worms and go down into the pasture to fish in a creek that ran through the land. There was a steep bank, and I would fish hoping to catch enough for supper. One day Mama went with me and we caught nothing. On the way home Mama said, "Oh well, fisherman’s luck, a wet end and a hungry gut."

Our house had no running water. We drew our water from a well outside the kitchen door My sister, brother and I bathed in a large wash tub and heated our water on the kitchen stove. This event usually took place on Saturday night and we all used he same bath water. I remember how good it felt to take a warm soapy bath even though I wasn’t always the first one in it.

We washed our clothes on a rub board and used home made lye soap. I had a small rub board like Mama and Granny and a tiny tub. My job was to wash the socks and underwear. One day Mama and I were doing the wash and she said, "One day soon you will be washing dirty diapers." This was mama’s delicate way of telling me that a new baby, my sister Shirley, was on the way.

Our outdoor toilet was built quite a distance from the house complete with a Sears and Roebuck catalog. Since the toilet was so far away from the house, during the summer months at night we would go outside behind the house and use the restroom. I was afraid of the dark. I would bravely go outside into the pitch darkness, take care of business, and then I would make myself calmly walk back to the kitchen door. My heart would be pounding in fright; but I forced myself to remain calm. When I got to the door, panic would overtake me and I would almost hurt myself trying to get through the door as fast as I could. During the winter months we had what we called chamber pots with lids. I would have to empty them the next morning and believe me it was no picnic!

People did not embalm their dead when I was a young child. I remember Grandpa Hampton’s brother Uncle Harve coming to our house. He had been in an automobile accident in Tulsa and was very sick for a long time and finally died. His body was laid on a long bench, a white piece of cloth was placed under his chin and tied to the top of his head to keep his mouth shut. His eyelids were shut and coins placed on top of them to keep them closed. He was covered with a sheet and neighbors and friends came and sat up all night with his body. The next day the body was placed in a home made coffin and buried.

Decoration day was a big event! We would spend several months in the year making flowers for decoration day. Granny would buy several colors of crepe paper, cut it into patterns and make flowers to decorate the graves. She would let me help her make them and to this day I still remember how it was done. When the flowers were finished we would dip them in melted paraffin and store them in boxes. When decoration day arrived we would all dress up in our finest clothes and place the flowers on the graves. We took our dinner with us and went to the local church after decoration. We had "All Day singing and dinner on the ground." There was always fried chicken and banana pudding.

Before our community became know as Buffalo Valley, it was called Laura.

School was only a short distance from our house and I walked to school each day. There was only two rooms in the Laura school house and only one teacher to teach twelve grades. I sat at the same desk with Corene Brunson and we were always getting our books and papers mixed up and we would get into an argument. One day the teacher placed a wooden board inside the desk and Corene kept her books on one side and I kept mine on the other. I took my lunch in a small syrup bucket. I usually had a biscuit with bacon or ham in it. Mama would fix some dough, spread butter, cinnamon and sugar over it, roll it up and fry it until golden brown.

I walked to school with about twenty kids of all ages. They would start walking about two or three miles from school and when they passed each house, the children who lived there would join the group and when they passed my house there were quite a few to walk with. I was only about six and very gullible. I noticed when we passed over a certain bridge some of the older boys would leave the group and go under the bridge. I wondered what was down there and one day my curiosity got the best of me and I followed them, hoping to see something wonderful. I saw nothing! When they saw me following them they began to yell at me and told me to go away. I was so embarrassed and hurt because I only wanted to see what was so special under the bridge. Later when I got older, I realized they were smoking and using the restroom.

When the Buffalo Valley school was finished all the kids in the valley were excited about our new school. None of us had seen it and were anxious to start there. During the summer before school started I played with a neighbor girl named Helen Hammonds. We would make play houses and talk. We began to tell each other about our new school. It didn’t enter into our minds that we would be going to the same school. She would tell me her school was made out of silver. I told her mine was made of gold. She told me her desk would be decorated with diamonds. I told her mine would be constructed out of rubies, etc. Imagine how embarrassed we were when we saw the school house for the first time and realized we both had lied through our teeth.

Home remedies were rampant! The cure for colds and flu were treated with Groves Chill Tonic, Chocolate Quinine with hot poultices of flannel cloth placed on the chest area that had been rubbed with Vicks Salve.

Fresh chewed tobacco or snuff was used on insect bites and the seven year itch was treated with a mixture of sulphur and grease. Head lice were exterminated by washing the head with coal oil. I remember miracle tonics like Hadacol, 666 Tonic, Black Draught, Senna Tea and Mama was always trying to disguise Castor Oil with orange juice.

One day I developed a sty on my eye. Mama told me to go to a fork in a road and repeat the following: "Sty, sty, come off my eye, catch the next one that passes by." I memorized the jingle and obeyed my Mother’s advice. The sty eventually came off my eye, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty when I thought about the poor soul who was the first to pass by after I repeated my remedy.

The most drastic cure happened when I contacted "Chicken Pox." Everyone seemed to be infected with the disease and I did not escape the scourge.

The only good news from my mother was the fact that I didn’t have to go to school until I got well! I was so excited! I could lay in bed all day and listen to the stories on the radio, and I decided maybe it was worth having the chicken pox if I could miss a few days of school.

I remember lying in bed trying to get my mind off my itching skin when I heard something weird outside the house. It was a horrible sound! It sounded like a chicken had been caught by some vicious animal and was crying out in fright trying to escape. My eyes widened and I turned my head slightly so my ear could zoom into the sound of that poor helpless chicken as it cried out in distress.

I noticed the sound was coming closer to the house and I thought, whatever caught the chicken is going to take it under the floor of the house.

A few seconds later, I heard the kitchen door open and the poor chicken began to squawk louder and louder. I turned to look at the door of the room where I was, and I saw a horrible sight! My mother stood there with the helpless chicken in her hands. The chicken was flapping its wings wildly in the air, its mouth open with terrible sounds coming out of it. My mother held the chicken out in front of her and came toward me waving the chicken in my direction. My screams blended in with the squawking chicken as I rolled all over the bed trying to escape, but everywhere I turned, mama was there with the chicken.

I kept screaming, my eyes wide with fright, trying to escape mama and the chicken. The chicken was trying to get away from us both. It seemed like the "Cure" lasted forever. Finally it was over and mama turned the chicken loose.

I was crying and mama gave me a big hug. I said, "Mama why did you wave that chicken in my face?" and she replied, "It’s a cure for the chicken pox." She was very serious when she made the statement, so I knew I was on my way to a quick recovery because surely a person’s mother knew what was best for her children.

Years later I reminded my mother about the incident and she bowed her head. I said, "Mama did you really believe that chicken would cure the chicken pox?" Mama answered, "Yes, I really did believe it would." I replied, "Do you believe it now?" Her answer was, as she smiled sheepishly, "No."

The moral to the chicken pox cure was: One day chicken, next day feathers.

Certain people in the valley seemed to be endowed with special powers. I have heard stories of how my Great Grandmother Stow could stop blood. One story in particular involved a man named Bud Cooley, who had his throat cut in a poker game that ended badly. The men rushed him to Granny Stow’s house and she stopped the blood. She revealed her secret to her daughter Granny Hampton and she in turn told me. The secret was to repeat the scripture Ezekiel 16:6 three times inserting the injured persons name. I have tried this cure several times over the years and found it to work for me.

My Grandpa Hampton was well known in the valley with having the ability to draw fire out of a burn.

I remember one time in particular, I was playing outside. Mama and Granny had just finished washing the clothes and I decided I would climb into one of the huge black pots where they had boiled their water. I accidentally stepped into the ashes around the pot unaware that there were live coals underneath the ashes. I experienced horrible pain as my whole foot was burned. I started screaming and they took me inside, placed my foot in a pan and poured coal oil over it. Grandpa came in and waved his hand over my foot, murmuring something under his breath. My foot never did blister or leave a scar. I later asked Grandpa how he did it and he told me, but cautioned me that I could only tell men, and men could only tell women or the gift wouldn’t operate for you.

Many times when we drew water out of the well, there would be frogs inside the bucket. I wanted to play with the frogs, but Mama told me that they would cause warts. Of course, being the venturous soul that I was, Mama’s information only made my curiosity peak until I was sneaking around playing with every frog I could find. Well, Mama was right! I developed warts all over my fingers and hands. I was so ashamed because they were hideous to look at. Grandpa saved the day once again. He got me in the wagon and we drove from our house to Yanush where a preacher named Roy Tate lived. He was well known in the valley and supposedly had the power to remove warts. When he came to the door, he was wearing a black sock hat on his head. Grandpa showed him my hands and the Reverend Tate began to rub the warts and mumble something under his breath. I was very doubtful because when he got through with his treatment I still had warts, but in about two weeks, miracle of miracles they were gone!

DADDY, ME, BUDDY & DARLENE IN MAMA'S ARMS

When I was about four years old we moved to Corpus Christi, Texas so Daddy could work in the ship yards during the war. We lived in small three room apartments in a row, connected by open front garages. I don’t remember any grass, just sandy shale. My memories are very few, but I do remember being in a car waiting for ships to pass. The bridge we were going to go over would raise up and allow the ships to pass and then go down and let us cross over. I remember having a fear that we would be on the bridge when it raised up and we would fall off into the water.

When we left Corpus Christi, we traveled to California by train. Daddy’s sisters lived there and he was going to work there. We lived in a huge, white hotel that had been converted into apartments. Daddy’s sister Aunt Bessie and her family lived there with us and we played with her children. There was a large willow tree in back and we spent lots of time there, and an English Walnut tree outside the kitchen door. We lived downtown and I remember there was a kind of variety store not far from the house that sold small charms. One day I slipped away and went to that store to buy charms. I don’t think Mama ever knew what I had done.

I have a vivid memory of Mama in the kitchen mixing margarine we used in place of butter. The margarine was a white substance that resembled lard. Mama would add a yellowish orange color to it and mix it up. It had a distinct taste that I really did like. While she mixed the margarine, I stood beside her reciting my A,B,C’s. I hadn’t started to school yet and Mama wanted to make sure I was well prepared.

Daddy, who was very fond of alcohol was in total bliss while in California. Oklahoma was a dry state, but California sold alcohol everywhere. Daddy couldn’t resist the temptation and spent a good deal of his time drinking.

I remember a time when Mama and Daddy were quarreling about his drinking and he had her by the hair, a belt in his hand spanking her! They were going round and round and I was standing nearby screaming as loud as I could. I thought he was killing her.

One morning we got up, and in the hallway there was a huge pool of blood where someone had been attacked during the night.

When we left California we moved to McAlester, Oklahoma. Mama, Daddy and Grandpa worked at the Naval Ammunition Depot and Granny stayed home with the kids.

I hated McAlester. We lived there during World War II when I started to school and I remember a vivid memory. I was only six years old and had to walk to school with older kids. Every day we would stop at this certain store and they would gather up school supplies, pop or candy and tell the man at the counter to put it on their father’s bill. I silently watched as they would then gather up their goodies and walk out of the store without giving the grocery clerk any money. I conceived the bright idea that I would do the same. The next day as the others were gathering up their loot, I began to pick up some things that caught my eye. I waited patiently in line while the older kids checked out and when my time came I told the owner of the store to put it on my daddy’s bill. He asked me what my Daddy’s name was and I said, "Edgar Combs." The man began to look through a card file and then told me, " I don’t think your dad has credit here, I don’t have a record of it." I was so embarrassed I left the things I had picked out on the counter and hurriedly left the store. Looking back I can see how that one embarrassing incident at a very young age influenced me in later years.

I would pretend to be sick every day. I remember the truant officer would come to the house to see why I wasn’t in school and Mama would tell him I was sick. I didn’t pass my first year of school and on my report card was written; Did not attend enough days to pass.

The house we lived in was in a row of houses where Mama and Daddy’s friends lived. Edgar and Minnie Vaught, and Pernie and Sod Andrews. I played with Glenn Vaught and was on my way to his house when Pernie threw a pan of dishwater out her back door. I was drenched with the dirty water and began to cry. Pernie came out and tried to soothe me. She gave me some corn on the cob and I was all right.

In our yard in McAlester there were lots of horned toads. I had never seen them before and was fascinated with the little critters. I loved to catch them and play with them. When we eventually moved back to Buffalo Valley, I took some with me and turned them loose hoping they would survive. I never saw them again so I don’t know if they lived or died.

Edgar and Minnie’s dog had puppies under their house and told me if I would crawl under the floor and get the puppies I could have one. They were little Boston Bulldogs and very cute. Minnie gave us a little female that Mama named " You Know" She had read a story when she was a little girl about a dog named "You Know," a cat named "I Know" and a bird named "Guess."

Mama loved her little bulldog but Daddy hated it. Over the years the dog had two or three litters of puppies that were either born dead or if they survived, she ate them. I remember one litter in particular Mama salvaged one of the puppies and we named him "Mittens."

When "You Know" got old she would release gas and it was very unpleasant to be in the same room with her. Daddy kept threatening to kill her and Mama would get upset with him. I didn’t take him seriously because he would chuckle under his breath, but one day "You Know" disappeared. Mama accused daddy of killing her but he always denied it.

Mama and Daddy always lived with Granny and Grandpa Hampton. It was not Mama’s wish, but it seems she never had the opportunity to do otherwise.

I remember a trunk she referred to as her "hope chest." Inside the trunk were hand made beautifully embroidered dish towels, crocheted doilies, new wash cloths, towels, sheets and pillowcases. There were numerous other items she had collected over the years. She placed them in the hope chest until she had her own home. This desire was never fulfilled.

On several occasions she told me how much she wanted her own home. The house we lived in was handed down to Granny Hampton by her parents and Granny was the matriarch of the household. She chose the linoleum rugs that covered the floors, the many layers of wallpaper that adorned the walls and made the everyday decisions any housewife would ordinarily make but Mama had her "hope chest."

I believe living in McAlester was the happiest time in Mama’s life. She still lived in a house with her parents, but it was a nice rental house with running water and electricity. She had a good job at the depot and I remember her purse was filled with good smelling makeup. She kept herself looking very pretty and had nice clothes. This time in Mama’s life was short lived however, and we found ourselves back on the old home place, no electricity, no running water and no home of her own for Mama.

We lived there again for a short time when I was in junior-high school. I had homemade clothes and didn’t dress or talk like the other students. They called me a hick and made fun of me until it was time to take a test and then they wanted to copy some of the answers on my test paper.

McAlester had football games and pep rallies. I never went to any of the games because Mama would tell me she didn’t have any money. One day there was a concert at school. A trumpet player was going to be there and all the students were going. I really did want to go and be a part of the gang. The price of admission was twenty-five cents but when I asked Mama if I could go she told me she didn’t have any money. I looked in her purse and saw some change and I took the money and went to the concert. I can still remember the horrible feeling of shame I felt as I sat there with all the other kids, watching the trumpet player blow his horn. I went home and confessed my crime, thinking I would get a spanking, but instead Mama gave me a hug and told me it was all right.

McAlester was not kind to my mother either. Mama told me that the city had a wonderful organization called the "welcome wagon," that welcomed newcomers to the city. The "welcome wagon" would come to the homes of the newcomers and bring a basket filled with discount coupons to all the stores, special small gifts and lots of goodies to eat. Mama was so excited and waited for the "welcome wagon" to come. After it became clear that the wagon was not coming to welcome us, Mama devised a plan. She wrote an anonymous note and sent it to the city of McAlester telling them that a new family had recently moved there and gave them her name and address. We lived in an apartment on north Main behind Barney’s Grocery. The "Welcome Wagon" never came.

One day while we were living in McAlester, Mama and Granny decided to buy some baby chickens. Grandpa got busy and built a small chicken house and a fence to keep them in. I was so excited because we were going to have some pet chickens. I wasn’t aware at the time that they would grow up and become Sunday dinner!

When the baby chickens came they were so cute! They were tiny little things and such a pretty shade of yellow. There were about fifty of them and I loved them all! I would carefully pick them up and rub them gently with my hands as often as I could. Granny would scold me and say, "Leave those chickens alone, or you will hurt them, baby chickens are not to be played with."

I had some friends who lived on the same block I lived on and one day we decided to play hide and go seek. The child who was "it" would hide their eyes and count to ten, while the rest of the kids would go hide. When the child finished counting to ten, he would cry out and say, "Here I come, ready or not!" He would then try to find the children who were hidden.

The game always made me so excited. My heart would beat wildly and I would run frantically all around trying to find a good hiding place because I didn’t want to be the first one found.

When "it" began to count, I was running everywhere in terror, trying to find a place to hide. Then I got a great idea! I would hide in the chicken house where the baby chickens lived. Just then I heard the sound, "Here I come ready or not!" I hurriedly opened the gate to the chicken pen and began to run as fast as I could in my bare feet toward the chicken house. The little chickens began to run wildly about peeping and chirping in fright. Suddenly I felt something under my feet that felt soft and wet. When I looked down, I saw that I had stepped on a baby chicken. It lay there on the ground dead with all its insides on the ground next to its little body. I screamed and kept running. Every time my feet touched the ground it would land on top of another baby chicken.

After I had killed about fifteen baby chickens, I forgot all about being found by "it" because another fear had taken over my mind; the fear of Granny Hampton!

I didn’t know what to do. I felt so sorry for the little baby chicks and I hated myself for killing them, but I was also more afraid for myself.

I decided the only way out of the situation was to confess. I went inside the house, with tears filling my eyes, and sobbing loudly with fear and remorse. I felt the weight of the world was on my shoulders.

Granny said, "What’s wrong with you?" "Are you hurt?" I told Granny what I had done and she put her arms around me and told me it was all right, it was an accident.

I never felt such relief and it seemed like a great weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I was very sorry for what I had done, but I comforted myself with the thought that if the baby chicks had grown to be big chickens, they would have been inside my stomach instead of under my feet.

"JAMES LAFAYETTE HAMPTON"

Grandpa Hampton was my hero. He was a tall man, slim and had only one eye. He lost sight in his eye one day when He was plowing at a young age. He had reached the end of the row he was plowing and while turning the plow around a tree limb caught him in the eye. He was born in White County Arkansas in the year 1878. He had to work in the fields as a young boy and never had the opportunity to attend school. He couldn’t read or write and I remember him signing his name on legal documents with an X.

I was four years old when the first memory of Grandpa Hampton was stamped upon my mind. Grandpa and I had to go into the kitchen and wait, because something mysterious was happening in the living room; my sister Darlene was being born.

I didn’t know what was happening at the time but I remember standing there in the kitchen with Grandpa, and he gave me a great big smile that has remained with me all these years. I saw enough love in that smile that it became a lasting memory and let me know just how much my Grandpa loved me.

In fact, I felt he loved me so much, that I never in my wildest dreams believed he would ever spank me; but he did! It happened when we were all living in McAlester. Mama and Daddy worked during the day, but Grandpa worked as a night watchman. He had to sleep in the daytime. We were all too young for school, and were running through the house making a lot of noise. Grandpa warned us at least a dozen times that he would spank us if we didn’t settle down. I can still remember the though that crossed my mind; Grandpa is just saying that, he would never spank me. Finally he got up, grabbed each one of us in turn and spanked us with his belt. I know now that he didn’t hit us hard enough to hurt us physically, but the knowledge that Grandpa would actually spank me, created a respect for him that I didn’t have before. I learned to take him at his word..

Our horses, John and Jim earned their feed. If it had not been for those two horse we probably would have starved. I can still see those horses in my mind’s eye. Jim was a tall brown horse with only one ear. I understand screw worms ate it off before they could get it cleared up. In contrast, John was a short white horse that lived so long, and got so weak he had to lean against the fence to hold himself up. Grandpa loved the two work horses.

Grandpa would plow the fields with John and Jim and I could hear him down in the pasture crying out "Gee" and "Haw." Once in a while I would hear a few curse words out of the mouth of my hero.

I used to go down and get him to let me plow and he would finally allow me to try. When I finished plowing the row it was usually very crooked. Grandpa would always have to do it over again. I know now that it took a lot of patience on Grandpa’s part, but he always let me plow. I loved to feel the fresh up turned dirt under my bare feet and there were always worms I could pick up and put in a jar and use for fish bait.

Grandpa would eat breakfast before daylight so he could be in the field early. About nine or ten O’clock, he would come to the house with what he referred to as "weak trembles." I can see him now, sweat dripping off the end of his nose, his clothes soaked with sweat, and his hands trembling so badly he could barely hold the large cup of strong black coffee. He would pour the coffee from the cup into a deep saucer and then drink from the saucer. He always drank his coffee along with a cold biscuit left over from breakfast. He would then return to the field and work until dinner time.

Grandpa made such an impact upon my life, that both consciously and sub-consciously during my lifetime, I have measured all the men in my life by him. Many times when Grandpa thought we were not giving him enough respect, he would say, "You kids will miss me when I’m gone." Oh how true those words were and there are so many things I could have done to give him more joy in his life. Grandpa’s mother died when he was very young and he didn’t remember much about her. All he knew was, her name was Susan Frances. He would always talk about White County Arkansas, the place he was born. Years after he died, I became interested in Genealogy. I decided I was going to find out all I could about his mother. I went to White County and at the courthouse I found an old map that showed where they had lived. I went to the land and walked on it and thought of Grandpa, How I wish I had taken him there to see it before he passed on. I loved him so dearly.

Grandpa was known all through the valley as uncle Jim. I always thought as a child, he was named after the old brown horse we called Jim. He was also known for hard work. He kept the Magee Cemetery clean single handed and it always seemed to be reward enough to have a simple thank you from the residents of the valley. I asked him one day why he felt he had to clean all the graves. His reply was, "When I cleaned all our graves, I felt sorry for the others that were grown up with weeds so I kept on until I cleaned them all." It hurts a little to visit that same cemetery today and see his grave covered with weeds.

All my life, I heard people say, uncle Jim had better slow down or he will die with a heart attack. Somehow, those words created a fear in me that it would actually happen. I had never experienced anyone suffering a heart attack but I knew it must be an awful experience.

One time in particular, I heard a terrible sound coming from the field; I was gripped with fear and began to scream. The image of Grandpa having a heart attack was all I could see. I imagined him in terrible pain crying out for help. Mama and Granny came running out of the house and I screamed, "Grandpa is having a heart attack!" They ignored me, ran toward the noise and discovered a pig caught in a fence and was making the horrible sound. I was so relieved and when Grandpa was told about my reaction to the commotion, he didn’t laugh at me, he just hugged me tight and thanked me for caring so much about him.

Several years before I was born, there was a band of Ku Klux Klan members in the valley. Someone robbed a schoolhouse about a mile from where we lived. For some reason the Klan suspected Grandpa knew who had robbed it. They came on horses, each one of them robed in white sheets. They took Grandpa, placed him upon a horse, tied a noose around his neck and draped it over a tree. They wouldn’t let Granny out of the house and threatened to hang him if he didn’t tell them who committed the robbery. Grandpa looked at each one of them hiding under the sheets and called them by name. He told them he would see each one of them go to their grave.

His two sons Jesse and Elmer rode up on horses and rescued him with their guns. The thing that impressed me most about that experience with the clansmen was the fact that each one of the men were prominent, respected men in the valley and the one living in Talihina was very wealthy and supposedly one of Grandpa’s closest friends. Grandpa seemed to forgive them but over the years each clan member died, and I distinctly remember the day the last one passed away. Grandpa came into the house and gave us the news. He then replied; "He was the last one." I thought Grandpa would feel some sense of justification but instead he had tears in his eyes.

We had a Christmas calendar we kept from one year to the next. It was special because it had the poem, "Twas the night before Christmas" written on it with a picture of Santa Clause and his reindeer.

I remember on Christmas Eve, Grandpa would take me on his lap and recite to me the poem. I could almost see the words coming to life as he told me the story. Grandpa had the poem memorized

because he couldn’t read or write. He had worked all his life and had never gone to school.

Grandpa always wanted me to cut his hair. I did the best I could under the circumstances but one day I decided I would give him a new haircut. I had seen the three stooges in a movie and I was impressed with Moe’s hair style. I found a round bowl, placed it upside down on top of Grandpa’s head and cut around it. Grandpa was pretty upset! It did look pretty bad and I had to cut it the usual way. When I remember that hair cut I sometimes wonder why In the world he let me put a bowl on top of his head anyway?

Granny and Grandpa were married for sixty-two years. I can truthfully say that I never once heard them argue or say a cross word to each other. She was the light of his life. The day Granny died, the light in Grandpa went out. I remember putting my arms around him and he spoke the following words; "I loved that woman, and I’ll not live without her, I’m going to go be with her." That day he willed himself to die. He never worked again. He would sit on the front porch for hours at a time staring into space. I wondered how he could just sit that long and do nothing, but now I know he was lost in memories of happier times.

I believe Grandpa died to his earthy life that day. Grandpa was eighty-six years old when he died. A lifetime of hard work had given him a strong heart and even without the will to live, it took two years for death to overtake him. He passed away quietly in his sleep. Everyone thought he had died of old age, but I knew better, Grandpa didn’t die, he just wanted to go be with Granny.

ELIZABETH ALICE STOW

Granny Hampton

Granny’s name was Elizabeth Alice and I was named for her. She was a role model and I wanted to do everything she did.

I remember at one point in my life, I couldn’t decide whom I loved more, Mama or Granny Hampton. She was always there, a tall, slim, graceful lady, who had a feisty walk and very, very, religious!

I would ask her, Granny, what denomination are you? Her reply would always be, "I’m holiness."

Granny was the person who instilled in me my faith in God. I thought Granny Hampton was the holiest person I knew. I could hear her out in the orchard praying for all of us and there’s no doubt in my mind that God answered her prayers.

On Sunday Me and Granny would dress up and walk two miles to the Nazarene church. The Pastor was a woman we called Sister Neal. She wore her hair in a bun and was very religious. She lived in a trailer near the church and I remember one day I was outside the trailer because Granny and some of the other church members were inside praying for something that was too "delicate" for my young ears to hear. That banishment from the trailer was fuel for my fire of curiosity. I positioned myself outside so I could hear everything that was going on. The problem that needed special prayer involved a man in the church who was suffering in his flesh because his wife had left him and he needed prayer to resist adulterous temptation. Sister Neal and the others inside were sending loud desperate prayers up to God, while the man cried and begged for help in his hour of need.

Church was well attended in those days. During the summer months we would have church outside under brush arbors where it was much cooler. Children slept on pallets on the ground under the benches where grown ups sat fanning energetically with the cardboard fans furnished by Drake’s Funeral Home. I don’t know whether the preacher was inspired by the hot summer heat or his Biblical inspiration, because he always seemed to preach on Hell fire and brimstone.

I was always God conscious and read the stories in the Bible, from the time I first began to read. When the preacher would begin to preach about Hell fire and damnation, I would be overcome with fear. I would be one of the first ones to run to the altar, which we called the "Mourners Bench" and begin to confess all the sins I had committed that week. It would take me a long time to repent however, because I tried to remember every sin I had committed and confess it. It really felt great though going home in the back of the wagon, lying on a pallet and looking up at the stars. I knew if I died that night I would go to heaven and escape that hot burning hell.

My salvation never seemed to last very long. I would fight with my brother Buddy and Sister Darlene, or take a dip of snuff which was considered a sin.

There were so many things considered to be a sin in the Nazarene church. Women had to dress with long sleeves and dresses. They were not to cut their hair and absolutely under no circumstances wear makeup. I asked Granny where in the Bible did it say that a woman couldn’t wear makeup and her answer was; "Jezebel rose up and painted her face."

Granny would not allow us to play with cards. Any game that involved dice was forbidden but she could beat us all playing checkers.

I remember one particular time in school, we decided that the girls would wear their boyfriends jeans. I wasn’t old enough to have a particular boy friend but I persuaded a boy in my classroom to bring me a pair of his jeans. I was planning to wear them the next day but when Granny saw the jeans she asked me what I was going to do with them. I told her I was going to wear them to school the next day and she said emphatically, "No!" Well, that wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear and I asked her, "Why?" She said, "Go ask your mother." When I asked Mama why I couldn’t wear the pants she said, "Go ask Granny." Well, needless to say I went back to Granny and said, "Mama told me to ask you why?" Granny blushed, bowed her head and said, "You’ll catch something." I was not satisfied with that answer and asked her, "What will I catch?" She wouldn’t give me an answer. I returned the jeans the next day at school.

I have wondered about her reaction to the jeans and I think I know why she acted the way she did. She had a son that contacted syphilis and had to go to a hospital in Hot Springs, Arkansas. There was no cure in those days from syphilis but he was recovering and wrote her letters telling her how well he was doing and would be coming home soon. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, Granny received a telegram saying he had passed away with spinal meningitis. They buried him immediately on the hospital grounds and would not allow the family to attend the service because the disease was so contagious. I’m sure this was very traumatic for Granny and she retained a fear in her mind of syphilis.

Anyone who wanted to join the church had to raise their hand and swear on the Bible they would not commit any of the many acts considered to be a sin by the church. I would sit there on the pew and watch each time members would be sworn in and though in my mind, There’s no way I can ever be a member because I do all these things.

Any member that sinned was considered to be backslidden and had to be saved over again. Needless to say each time we had a revival meeting, I continued to be the first one to the "Moaners Bench."

One time in particular, I had just "been saved" and had been pretty successful staying that way until I was faced with great temptation! I had a cousin named Lucille Hampton who was a few years older than I was. She had a boyfriend and they stopped by the house on their way to the movie in Talihina. She asked me if I wanted to go with them. I was so excited! It seemed I never got to go to the movies, but Granny Hampton was standing there, as my conscience saying, "If you go, you will lose your religion." I knew I had to make a choice, keep my religion or go to the movie. I remember going Lucille thinking in my mind, "I may never get to see another movie, but I can always get saved again."

Granny was extremely modest. When she would take a bath in the round tub, she would get into the water with her dress on. I remember one time in particular we were all in the field planting sweet potatoes. It was very hot and our reward was to get into a nearby creek, take a bath and swim. Granny would put on her undergarments, a dress and a pair of Grandpa’s old pants and a shirt. She would get into the water and wash the best she could in her "bathing suit."

For many years our clothes were made from colorful print feed sacks. When Granny and Grandpa began to draw "the old age pension," Granny opened up a Spiegel catalog account. Every year she would order us clothes from the catalog and then pay it out over the year.

The old house we lived in was left to Granny when her parents died. She became the Matriarch of the family and the spiritual voice we all listened to. I was able to read by the time I started to school and my reading material were the stories of the old testament, comic books and a magazine called true confession. One day as I was reading a love story I came across a word I had never heard before. The word was pregnant and my curious mind made me go ask my mother the meaning of the word. She looked at it, blushed, looked sideways and said, "Go ask your Granny." When I went to Granny with the word she said, "Go ask your Mama." I knew the word had to be something sinful, but being a curious soul I vowed to find out what the word meant. When I continued to read the story, a few months later the woman in the novel, who was pregnant, had a baby! I felt very smug because I had found out the meaning all on my own. It stirred up curiosity in me and I wondered why having a baby was so sinful and hush, hush.

In September of 1962, Granny Hampton laid down to take a nap, slipped into a coma and died. According to her medical records at the funeral home she suffered a cerebral Hemorrhage.

At the funeral, she had on a soft pink dress. The funeral home had put make up on her face and her cheeks were pink. She looked beautiful to me. She was beautiful, inside and out. Her whole life centered around Grandpa, Mama, Daddy and us kids. Her prayers kept us safe and free from harm. She was the first one to go, six weeks later Daddy, two years later Grandpa and then in two years Mama. This speaks volumes to Me about how prayer is a sword and shield in the mouth of the true and faithful believer.

EDGAR WILLIAM COMBS

DADDY

I don’t know how the world remembers Edgar Combs, but I remember him as a man with a heart of gold, but lacking in worldly wealth. He would give anyone the shirt off his back and I suppose that’s one of the reasons he didn’t seem to have very many.

Daddy was an alcoholic. He used every excuse he could find as an occasion to drink. His favorite cure for a cold was a "hot toddy" made from moonshine whiskey. He would add a little water to the moonshine, heat it on the stove, add honey and drink it. I remember his face would flush red and he would begin to act playful, which would upset Mama. She didn’t like for him to drink because she knew what would happen. One "toddy" became two, and then he would get in his truck and stay gone overnight or for several days. I remember one time he got involved in a poker game with some friends and the game turned into a dispute between the players. Bud Cooley had a knife and cut Daddy’s arm. He was rushed to the doctor and discovered some ligaments had been severed. When he came home, his arm was bandaged up and I went into hysterics when I saw him. It turned out to be a blessing of sorts because Daddy couldn’t work and we received welfare checks for several months.

I would hear stories about Daddy’s escapades at school and I remember how my face would redden in embarrassment. One time in particular, Daddy was supposed to take a load of pulp wood to Talihina. He was supposed to stop and pick Mama up. She always wanted to go with him because, Daddy would spend the money he received for the wood on whisky and come home broke. I remember her standing on the porch waiting for him to come out of the mountains with his load of wood, but instead of stopping to pick her up he just kept going. Mama was very upset with Daddy. I heard later that Daddy got drunk and rented a room with a full blood Choctaw Indian woman. They got into a fight and tore the hotel room up. Daddy had to pay the damages to the room and as a result came home without a penny. One time in particular we had several head of cattle Daddy and Mama bought when they worked at the ammunition depot in McAlester. Daddy got drunk and sold every one of them and spent the money before he came home. Mama was so upset with him and I remember clearly when the person who bought them came to pick them up.

In our home, children came first. I have heard many stories about how children had to wait until grown ups and company ate and then had to eat leftovers. This was not true in our house. There were eight of us including granny and grandpa Hampton, everyone ate together. We had a large table with chairs for the adults and a long bench on one side for the children. If there was only a small amount of a special treat, the children shared it and the adults did without.

We always lived with Granny and Grandpa Hampton. Several times the opportunity came to move away and find work. One time in particular, just before we were scheduled to leave, Granny seemed to develop fainting spells. Daddy wouldn’t leave her. I remember Mama was very upset with Daddy and Granny.

One time when Mama and Daddy were first married, they went to Daddy’s parents house for the weekend. The Combs family liked to have dances in their home. Granny, who was very religious, heard about this and persuaded Grandpa Hampton to hitch up the wagon and go get them. Again, Mama was very angry because Daddy insisted they come home with Granny. Mama told me that when Granny and Grandpa first married they went to dances and it wasn’t fair that she wasn’t allowed to go. She resented Granny for years because of this incident.

Daddy liked to tease. When they first got married, Mama and Daddy’s sister, aunt Bessie were in the floor playing paper dolls. They had cut the dolls out of the Sears and Roebuck catalog. Several times Daddy would run through the room and deliberately scatter their paper dolls; he would then laugh and run away. Mama took this treatment as long as she could and became so upset that she threw a pair of scissors at him and punctured the back of his head.

Another time Mama and Daddy were driving down a lane in an "A" model car. Daddy would speed up a little and pull back on the steering wheel, look at Mama and cry "Whoa." His luck ran out however, because one time the steering wheel suddenly came off in Daddy’s hands and he began to panic. Mama quietly reached over and turned the key off.

Grandpa Hampton loved Daddy, but not his antics. Most of the time Grandpa suffered in silence. Once, I’ve been told, Daddy was outside with his knife open, swinging the blade toward Granny’s chicken and then cry out, "Look Lizzie, I’m going to cut this chicken’s head off." The knife slipped and cut Daddy in his leg. He began to cry out and Grandpa went outside, picked him up and carried him inside the house.

One time Daddy’s old car wouldn’t start. Grandpa was going to give him a push. The car began to roll and the motor started. Daddy stepped on the gas, looked over to the side of the car and Grandpa was still pushing. Daddy yelled for Grandpa to stop, but that was impossible because Grandpa had his overall strap hung on the door of the car and was running as fast as he could, trying to keep up enough speed to loose himself. I understand he was very angry with Daddy.

Daddy was a man possessed by fear. I guess the greatest fear in his life was that of tornadoes. I remember very well how good it felt to sleep in a house with a tin roof in a rain storm. I would be sleeping so sound and Daddy would be up, going through every room in the house, looking out the windows at the storm. Each time I dreaded to hear the words I knew would eventually come, "Hit the cellar!"

One night in particular, we were all awakened from a sound sleep with the rain beating on the metal roof when Daddy came running through the room shouting, "Hit the cellar!" We ran out into the yard, headed for the cellar. Daddy was out in front leading the way waving the lantern as he ran. We were all behind him trying to find our way in the dark when Daddy ran over a chicken coop, broke the lantern and still reached the cellar first.

On one occasion it was very cloudy and looked like rain. We were all on the back porch plucking feathers off chickens we were having for dinner. Suddenly we heard a roaring sound coming from the clouds. Daddy threw his chicken down and cried, "Hit the cellar!" We all were terrified and began to run across the yard toward the cellar. As usual Daddy was looking back over his shoulder at the clouds and ran into a clothesline that caught him by the neck and flipped him to the ground. His arm was cut and bleeding but he never slowed down on his way to safety. When we got to the cellar, we stood outside the door and looked at the threatening clouds. Suddenly, out from behind the clouds came an airplane! Feeling very foolish, we went back inside the house and had our chicken dinner.

I remember very well the night before my baby sister Shirley was born. We were in the cellar! Mama was having labor pains but it was stormy and Daddy figured the stork could wait. The cellar was well built out of cement and was furnished with a bed and coal oil lamp. I can still see Mama lying on the bed, having small labor pains. We were in the cellar all night and I guess Daddy had some kind of authority over the stork because Shirley wasn’t born until the following morning soon after we left for school.

Our next door neighbor was William Brown, an Assembly of God Preacher. We all called him "Son." For some reason a friendship developed between the two. Daddy worked in the log woods cutting and hauling pulp wood. Daddy’s truck never had good brakes and when Daddy would get a full load, many times he would walk to Son Brown’s house and got him to drive his truck out of the mountains. Daddy seemed to be afraid of that truck.

Daddy never seemed to be God conscious and did not attend church regularly in spite of his friendship with William Brown. One night Mama noticed Daddy tossing in his sleep. The next day Daddy told her he had had a bad dream that troubled him. He told Mama that in the dream, he was fishing at the pond, when suddenly a cloud came down before him. Jesus was standing upon the cloud. When daddy saw Jesus, he began to walk toward him. Just before he reached the cloud, it disappeared. He told Mama that something was going to happen. He also told Mama that he now believed in God for he had seen Jesus, who incidentally I might add, didn’t resemble the pictures most churches have hanging on the wall.

Soon after this experience, Granny died. Daddy was devastated and mourned her passing. He told Mama he had lost his best friend and I know this was true.

Six weeks later, Daddy was killed in his truck. He was returning home from the pulp wood plant in Talihina, when the truck overturned and killed him instantly.

At the funeral, I sat in the church grieving for my Daddy. I asked God to give me a sign that He was all right where he was. Suddenly the big spray of flowers that covered the casket floated to the floor. Everyone gasped when it happened and it was my answer from God. Later, I discovered that Mama was asking God for the same sign.

William Brown preached Daddy’s funeral. He used a passage in the book of Job for his text. "Man that is born of woman is of few days and full of trouble." This seemed to describe the life of Edgar Combs, yet the scripture goes on to say; "O that thou wouldst hide me in the grave, that thou wouldst keep me secret, until thy wrath be past, that thou wouldst appoint me a set time and remember me."

I know in my heart that God will.

BELVIE MARIE HAMPTON

I never doubted Mama’s love for me. One day I asked her how much she loved me and she replied, "More than anything else in the world." I then asked the question, "If a truck was coming and I was standing in front of it, would you let it run over me, or would you push me out of the way and let it run over you instead." She told me she loved me more than her own life and would die for me.

Easter Sunday was always a special holiday for us. We didn’t always go to church, but we always got new clothes and a new pair of shoes. We would color eggs and have an Easter egg hunt. Mama would always take pictures of us in our new clothes. It was also special because Mama would let us begin going barefoot after Easter.

We did very little trick or treating on Halloween in Buffalo Valley because we lived so far away from our nearest neighbors. It was a very special time however, because Mama made popcorn balls and a big skillet of fudge. One day after school I was looking inside an old dresser and found a black witches costume. I knew Mama was planning some kind of surprise so I never mentioned what I had found. When I got off the school bus on Halloween, I knew Mama would be waiting inside the house dressed like a witch. When she jumped out of hiding to scare us, I screamed and ran with the others because I didn’t want to spoil her surprise.

The fourth of July was always celebrated the same every year. Daddy would go to the store and buy loaves of light bread, a large round stick of balogna and a case of pop. This was the only time of the year when we got light bread because all year long we would eat biscuits or corn bread.

Mama had four children and one miscarriage. The only time she had a doctor was when she fell off a horse and miscarried. During the other deliveries she had the assistance of Aunt Ivy Cooley. I remember Mama talking to me about the pain of childbirth and every time she heard one of her girls was pregnant, she cried.

When I was sixteen years old, I was allowed to go to Oklahoma City to work during the summer. It was an opportunity to earn money for new school clothes. This would be the first time away from home for any length of time and I was very surprised when Mama let me go that far away from home by myself.

Three other classmates and myself lived in an apartment duplex owned by an elderly couple who lived in the apartment adjoining us. We all worked in drive-in restaurants as car hops. Every penny we earned was spent on clothes. I remember those shopping sprees on payday! We spent every penny on clothes. We kept only enough money to pay our share of the rent. We ate our meals at the drive in because we could eat free, so there was never any food in the house. I didn’t think about my day off from work, and the first time this happened, I found myself with nothing in the house to eat, and no money to buy even a candy bar. The other girls were at work and I was home alone, "enjoying my day off from work." I was so hungry, and remember how it felt to be so hungry and nothing to eat.

Late in the afternoon I looked in the mail box and found a letter from Mama. When I opened the envelope to my surprise, I saw a five dollar bill! She wrote that she was worried about me and felt like I needed some money. Five dollars doesn’t sound like a lot of money now, but at that point in time it was a great sacrifice for Mama. It felt like I had a million dollars in my hand and I walked to the store and bought something to eat and vowed never to forget the feeling of hunger and the great love I felt for my Mother.

It seems as if Mama was ordained to suffer from the time she was born. At a very young age, she was stricken with Rheumatic fever, that left her with a heart defect and a deformed leg. I remember several times during my childhood when she would have a "fainting spell" and would pass out for a few seconds. At the time we didn’t know what was causing it, but now I realize she fainted because of her heart.

Mama had a large goiter on her neck. In the late forties, she went to the doctor because she was having difficulty breathing. The goiter was diagnosed to be malignant. The doctor decided to remove it, and after the operation, Mama had to have radiation treatments to make sure the doctor removed all the cancer cells. Mama didn’t know at the time that the doctor had told Daddy he couldn’t remove all of it. Daddy chose not to tell Mama about the doctor’s report. I know that Daddy loved Mama and this secret was hard for him to keep to himself. One day, Mama and Daddy were arguing about his drinking and I heard him tell her she was going to die. When he told her this, I ran out into the orchard and fell on my face and began to cry and pray. I prayed and begged God to pleas not let my Mother die. God answered my prayer, Mama lived on!

As a result of the rheumatic fever, Mama developed rheumatoid arthritis in her hands and fingers. She also began to suffer from a condition called bronchiectasis. This was a terrible condition, that made it very difficult to breathe. She coughed all the time and finally was unable to sleep in bed. Instead, she slept sitting up in a chair wrapped in blankets.

After Daddy was killed in the truck accident and Granny and Grandpa had passed away, Mama and Shirley moved to Wilburton, Oklahoma near me. I remember how terrible it felt to watch her suffer. She would cough so long and hard it seemed she would never catch her breath again, and then one day she didn’t.

It happened just before Thanksgiving, I was at home when Shirley called me and said Mama had passed out on the front porch of the apartment. I rushed over and found Mama lying on the porch and I knew she was gone.

I can’t explain how it feels to lose your mother. When it first happened, I only felt relief that she wouldn’t have to suffer anymore, but since that time I have missed her terribly. There have been times over the years that I have grieved for her and for the suffering she endured on earth. There have been times since that we have needed her presence, grandchildren that should have known and loved her, but I know that Mama is in the hands of a loving God, and that she is finally home.

There are so many more stories that could be written about those wonderful days filled with memories that shaped my early life and maybe there will be a time when I can write them all down but for now I will close the door to my childhood days. Times were hard and ignorance was rampant, but I know now that ignorance was bliss for I would gladly live it all over again if I could. Those days are forever gone except in the recesses of my mind, and though the difference in then and now is as different as black and white, I have discovered there was a little bit of color after all!