V1933-01G5

Fifth Grade fall 1933 to fall 1934

Fifth Grade Mr. Edwin "Hitchie” Hichcock was our teacher, it was a split class. There were 20 students to start and 23 to end. Starting grade distribution was 3-15-2-0-0 ending distribution was 4-12-4-2-1.

WPA improves the play grounds: Roosevelt was president and the large numbers of the unemployed were being put to work on WPA, Works Projects Administration. These persons were for the most part provided a wheel borrow and a shovel and put to work on all kinds of public tasks. They were rebuilding our play ground. The social standards at the time were such that persons did not feel right about taking hand outs, they did not consider themselves in the category of being a beggar or critically handy capped. They did not feel much pride in moving dirt with shovel and wheel borrow, but they could retain their personal pride when picking up their pay check, they had worked for the money they received. Though wages were low, barely enough to keep the family going at least it was a job to sustain them till things picked up. There were jokes made up to match events. There were way too many people for the task to be done. It was said things proceeded in two's: there were two working, two going, two coming, two waiting, and two crapping at any given time. Such stories were circulated among us kids, yet all felt empathy for all in dire need. They had provided free milk each morning to those in our class starting from 1st grade through 3rd grade, at first it was to everyone then to about 1/3 of those in the class. The adults about town were determining who came to school w/o having had a good breakfast and who had not. I only received the milk in the first grade when they fed all so as not to make those it was intended for feel singled out. It was soon recognized by all why it was done and those who were in need were quietly let out of class mid morning to go to the lunch room for their ration of milk.

Had then Lost Job: I noticed that school kids were earning money helping George Fortin the school janitor. We all liked George and I often helped him get chairs out and placed on they gym floor when preparations were made for an audience to see a program on the stage. I asked George if I could have a job as a janitor helper. George put me on and after classes I worked diligently cleaning rooms. After about three weeks George & Prof Liadig called me in and said they respected my willingness to work and that I'd been doing a fine job, but that they needed to provide work to those who had no other source of income. They had already told my parents, I said I understand and thanked them for having given me the job for a while and for being very nice about it. All were made aware of the austere times from many angles.

Hail Adjusting: Occasionally Dad asked if I'd like to go with him on his drives in the country. Dad sold insurance and adjusted loses. Strong winds and hail were random frequent events invariably resulting in a loss somewhere in the country. The experiences on these trips were varied but some things were constant.

It was a period plagued by drought and dust storms, farm yards revealed mans struggle with the elements. Money was "scarce as hens teeth." Buildings hadn't seen paint for years and what was applied disappeared like water on a dry sponge. Paints were each persons mixture of pigment & "vehicle", the liquid that carried the paint. Linseed oil was the vehicle in most good paints but one could always stretch paint to finish a job by using thinner. Almost all paint was applied by hand with a brush. It would be many years before the advent of water base and rubber base paints.

There was always evidence of improvised repair and how to make do with what was available. Farmers directed their efforts pragmatically at the priorities of the day, doggedly working from sunrise to sunset with daylight, exhaustion and money setting the limits on their activities. Weather and crop prices determined their success.

They practiced their religion for many reasons; sociability to break the isolation of hours and days in the field alone, a hopeful conviction that dedication and prayer would bring the blessings of good fortune. Every farmers livelihood was "in the hands of God", he had done all he could as a man, the result was beyond his ability to control. There were many forms of crop destruction w/o tempting fate.

Farm houses had a fence around them to keep out stray animals. Inside this perimeter was the domain of the housewife. Drought wilted shrubs, trees and grass provided mute evidence of their frustrated attempts to make their homes look nice. Only their gardens irrigated by water pumped by a windmill thrived and contributed to the family larder.

As we'd drive into a farm yard dogs would come out barking. Dad would get out of the car and go up to the fence gate. He'd make peace with the dogs as he opened the gate and proceed to the back door and knock. It was always the back door because few people used the front door to a farm house. The back door was the entrance to the porch with a place to change shoes, pour water from a bucket into a pan and wash before entering. A housewife had a constant task of keeping a clean house in the middle of a dirt farm, most did remarkably well never letting up on discipline applicable to all crossing her threshold.

After a short pause at the door someone would come. To me the delay was protocol because the barking dogs had alerted the household and the need to make friends with them assured a delayed approach to the house. I could always tell if it was a woman who came to the door because Dad would tip his hat. He was meticulously consistent about that.

The woman would walk out into the yard and direct Dad by pointing to where her husband was working. She'd usually be wearing a bonnet which protected her from the glaring sun, this made it impossible to recognize her from a distance. She'd also be clad in a many pleated ankle length skirt which cover an equally long petticoat. These skirts had utility in that they not only kept them warm but could be used to cradle eggs, vegetables and even corn cobs to fuel the kitchen stove. The skirts would balloon down wind but seldom reveal their shrouded figure. This apparel was similar to that of their parents, the original homesteaders, but began to disappear after WWII when farmers moved to town. Most of the farm ladies every day clothing was home made, most of the men’s cloths were store bought. It had long been the practice of women to do their own baking. Flour sacks ranged from white to colorful prints of quality material which the ladies would skillfully convert to all manner of practical things from dresses, dish towels to diapers. The women always looked forward to getting together for a "social club" of their choice, sometimes as part of a church. At these gatherings there was always an exchange of patterns, recipes, and the products of their handy work. Most of what they crafted bordered on the essential, at that time farming was still a do-it-yourself enterprise and it's economics didn't leave much time for leisurely crafts.

One day when we drove into a farm yard Dad parked near a feedlot. I sat in the car looking at a large dead horse laying in the feedlot. Dad got out of the car and let the door slam shut. I was startled by a sudden rush of squealing pigs charging from the horse carcass. They stopped a start distance away, stared back at the car, grunted a few times and disappeared back inside the carcass. The scene lent credibility to an old saying "look out, or the pigs will eat you!" That horse could have been a Zebra and the setting the Serengeti.

Adjusting wheat hail losses required that Dad drive a lot. He never adjusted hail losses for his own clients but frequently adjusted losses in adjacent counties and once in a while was called in on distant difficult cases. On one such occasion he asked me to go with him to the Oklahoma panhandle area where a claim had not been settled.

There was a country road intersection with wheat on each corner. Three corners were good and one was down. It had the appearance of having been deliberately knocked down. It was a poor crop and the far end of the field had obviously been hailed. The situation, apparent to a skilled observer, was that the man had tried to help mother nature increase his loss. Dad adjusted his real loss and called his bluff on the remainder. He took pictures of the adjacent fields as well as the mans field while the man watched. Dad had used photography to document wind damage to buildings but photographing a wheat field was unusual. Dad proceeded as if documenting evidence. The man was visibly impressed and disturbed by these actions. Dad then made his offer for settlement and the man dropped his prior claim and signed the offered settlement.

As we left I asked Dad if he thought the snap shots would really hold up in a law suit, I was concerned because there was no way to identify the fields except for our word. Dad agreed it would be difficult to prove the time and place, but the man had believed they'd prove his guilt and changed from going to sue to being afraid of being sued, he chose to drop his claim of additional loss.

Hail losses to wheat were adjusted by determining the average loss in various segments of the field. Dad would take off his hat and hand it to the farmer and ask him to throw it into the field. He'd then ask the farmer to draw a line through a row of heat under the hat. He then asked him to count off 100 stems down the row and hand him all the broken stems. Stems bitten off by grasshopper, as if cut with a knife didn't count. Hail bent stems so they could not be cut and picked up by a machine. The number of bent stems was the percent loss for that segment.

Half the psychology of a successful adjustment was the act of letting the man do the counting. It's hard to argue with your own count.

Dad always stressed being fair and giving the client the benefit of the doubt. If you were fair the client knew the next years rates would be just. If you gave him the benefit of the doubt it would set well and he'd be a lasting customer. Most farmers were quite honest & in business for the long pull, they wanted the assurance of an fair appraisal for everyone.

Milking Cows The cow is a remarkable energy converter. She will eat most plants including those with coarse fibers, even cactus & thistles and convert them into high grade meat and milk. Plants convert sunlight, cows convert plants and man converts cows enabling sunlight to power his endeavors.

Cows are unusual in that they have an extra stomach. They eat fodder and swallow it into their first stomach then later, usually when resting upright on the ground with legs folded under, cough up the fodder and chew it. Its then passed to their main stomach. Most farmers image of a contented cow is in this position with lower jaw steadily chewing in an elliptical motion while her eyes are half closed. This is known as "chewing her cud".

My recollections of a cow getting up and down is different than that of a horse or mule. The two hoofed animals as cows, goats and sheep seemed, in my memory at least, to get down front feet first and get up back feet first. Single hoofed animals as horses and mules favored back end down first and front end up first. I wonder if its true or my memory playing tricks.

A cow runs differently than a horse. One learns patience when causing an abundantly endowed milk cow to go from pasture to barn. When young I'd race to the pasture full of energy and impatient to get the cows to the barn. I soon learned that calves run and frolic but old cows just mosey along a well worn cow path. Paths barren of grass and wind eroded into grooves fan out from the barn to the various areas of the pasture. Their remote faint beginnings become distinct as they pick up more frequent traffic closer to the barn.

If you yelled at old Bossy she'd look back but not change pace. [Commercial advertising and children's stories refer to "Betsy the Cow", but on the farm she earned the name Bossy by insisting on having her stall in the barn and other displays of independence.] If you persisted she'd start to trot. At a slow trot she'd swing her legs one in front of the other to follow a single track. A horse tends to keep his legs apart in a dual track. When Bossy swings her legs they push her udder, her bag of milk, from one side to the other. There is a natural frequency at which this bulky pendulum can swing in unison with the legs. At this pace the legs, bag and body seem to be in harmony. If the pace is increased the swing of the bag becomes more out of phase with the swing of the legs until Bossy's rhythm is totally out of kilter and approaching instability. This state does nothing for her feminine charm or her disposition. Even a young boy can appreciate her utterly awkward situation and slow down. It teaches youth patience and gentlemanly behavior. In the days before milking machines and automated dairies all farmers had milk cows. They'd separate the whole milk and collect the cream for sale. The non-fat milk would be used to feed chickens and hogs. Calves and people were fed whole milk.

The barns were invariably painted red. The second floor was the hay loft and usually filled with alfalfa. Other plant material was also fed to cows. Milo, sometimes called sorghum and corn stocks were chopped and put in silos for storage. The silage, the content of a silo, was then used in the winter to feed livestock. Milo has many small grain seeds in bunches and otherwise looks much like short corn. The hay loft feed was dumped through a hole in the hay loft floor into a feed trough along the wall of the barn. There were plank partitions to form stalls and each cow and horse knew which was theirs.

Barn floors were dirt. Hay or wheat straw was scattered about to soak up the urine and fresh manure since farm animals are not house broke. The mess was periodically cleaned out and spread on the garden plot. It made excellent fertilizer. The choice of words for this special White House nutrient was sometimes a problem for President Harry Truman. Mrs. Truman was asked by a woman why she couldn't get Harry to call what they put on the flower beds fertilizer rather than manure. Bess Truman responded "but you don't realize how long it took me to get him to call it manure."

<< Milker Unknown, Common occupation for rural kids prior to 1939

Feed was put in the trough for the cow to eat before milking started. Then you got a milk bucket and a milk stool. Most milk stools were a short post with a board nailed on top. It was a stubby T made of 2x4's. The nature of the floor covering provided the incentive to keep your balance.

The bucket was held between your legs to keep the bucket clean, the floors of most barns were soggy. To the beginner it was no small feat just to sit on the stool, hold the bucket between your legs and get sufficiently under the cow to have the bucket in position while each hand grasped a teat. There are four to choose from on a cow vs only two on a goat. About the time you'd get set the cow would move.

Reality was not as neat as the picture taken from an Electronics magazine making the point you needed to get a grip on things which you could do with their product. The kid in photo did not have to balance himself on a one leg seat, hold the bucket between his legs or cope with a tail covered with cow shit & swatting flies. Few barns in the were equipped concrete floors & running water for cleaning cows and barns. A farmer only had time to clean his barn when not able to work the fields.

You found that there was no place for your head except into her side. With face pointed down and aft and with the edge of your hat against the cows flank you were in good position till she swung her tail.

On a warm summer evening flies are abundant and can bite, yes Bite! They even get through the hair on a cow and you're suddenly aware of a cows defensive weapon against flies. The cluster of hair on the end of her tail swats you across the side of the face. The cows tail seems to have been located on the back end in order to swat areas she cannot turn & bite. However this places the tail where it can yet drenched and pasted if she gets a little lazy or careless and doesn't lift her tail in time. She often seemed to hold everything until she got located in her stall and then let it all out, thus the tip of the tail was often freshly covered. With flies biting while she was trying to eat and some character pulling on her teats she sometimes forgot to lift her tail. Every kid assigned to milking duty was told to keep his hands and her teats clean while milking. You'd want to wipe the sweat off you nose, the manure off your face and get that flick out of your eye.

The process of extracting milk was by "stripping" or "squeezing". The beginner stripped. Thumb and fore finger clamped at the top of the teat and then pulled down like pulling tooth paste out of a tube. The beginner tended to pull the teat rather than let the fingers slide and expel the milk. The cow would solve this practice by a forward/upward kick that could upset milker and milk.

Squeezing was a progressive rolling squeeze starting at the top and progressing down the fingers to the bottom. People who milked a lot used this method only and developed a fantastic grip. Later in high school and college I had the experience of wrestling with guys who'd earned their keep milking. They could grab hold of your wrists so tight it would cause your wrists to ache and was sometimes almost impossible to break loose.

Most farmers had cats which would gather at milking time. They'd line up and a good milker could sustain a stream at their face. They'd sit up on hind legs keeping their mouth in line with the stream of warm milk. Some people liked warm fresh milk, I didn't.

From the time I was little till WWII this was a typical scene on every farm, almost everyone milked cows and raised chickens. After WWII the Cream Stations all through the plains states went out of business as fewer and fewer farmers milked. Dairy Farms and Chicken Ranches became like factories on the edge of the cities, it didn't pay to haul dairy products long distances. The milking machine replaced the milker and dairyman improved their stock to be high milk producers. Feed was brought to the cow and she no longer had to put up with some kid causing udderly undulations. She couldn't even be Bossy because she no longer had her own stall.

The Sale Barn

Friday was sale day. Farmers hauled their livestock to the Sale Barn, some called it Sales Pavilion, in the morning and the auctioning started at noon. Women did the weeks shopping while the men attended the auction. Near the end of the day farm women and their kids gathered about their cars or trucks waiting for their men who were in turn awaiting the sale of their livestock. They still had to drive home and do chores. Sales lasted till the last cow was sold and in the drought years this was late into the night.

Sale Pavilion stock pens out of sight in back Preparing food Armistis Day 1930 in front of Pavilion

The Sales Pavilion was a housed amphitheater with seats from which one could view a half circle sales ring encompassed by a cage like fence.

The auctioneer and sales clerk box was above and behind the sales ring so they could view the bidding. There was no loud speaker system and the auctioneer needed a powerful enduring voice. His name was Schultz, an imposing old timer with a large mustache and a highly respected knowledge of livestock.

Cattle entered the ring to his right from a barn structure and pens extending to the back of the main pavilion. They exited to his left via a fenced set of scales where they were weighed before being returned to the stock pens.

The Building Loan & Abstract Company had the contract to clerk the sales. My father sat on a bench near the auctioneer and prepared the sales tickets. He'd record a description of the livestock, sellers name, buyers name and price per pound. I was always amazed at how many people he knew by full name and how he could field questions and answers while recording other details. After the auctioneer yelled "Sold" and my Dad recorded the name and price (the auctioneer never repeated the price or name). The three part ticket was clipped to a roller and sent by an interconnecting wire to the scales. Fred Dunker, one of the owners usually operated the scales and weighed the livestock by inserting the ticket in the scale and griping the mechanism to leave the imprint of the weight. Farmers often stood behind him to see how certain cattle were weighing out. This sharpened their ability to estimate weights. The ticket with it's weight impression stamped was returned by the same card holder on the wire to my father who then passed one part to the buyer, one to the seller and retained one for his office. One of my earliest jobs was to periodically carry these originals to the office where his secretary would handle the receipts, commissions and payments accounting.

Buyers for packing houses bought most of the livestock and payment could usually be made to the farmer the day of the sale.

As I became acquainted with the surroundings the boring job of carrying tickets soon gave way to the more dynamic excitement of moving cattle. There was always a din of bawling cows, fresh manure to be avoided and the dusty odor of dried cow dung stirred up by sorting cattle.

I'd go to the sale barn on Friday morning and rather than just watch, I'd help. I was soon known as "The Kid". I tried to anticipate what was needed and do it without ever being in the way. I was never really hired but was put on the payroll at 50 cents a day to fill water barrels with the task shifting to whatever needed to be done. Going wages at the time for a grown man farm hand was $1.00 a day. The sale barn was paying 25 cents an hour. Fred Slake, a half owner, had taken an interest in me when I held to water hose he was filling a barrel with when he'd been called to the phone. He decided I should be paid if I was going to help. One Friday morning he and Dad walked by looking over the new livestock when he called out to me; "Hey Kid". Then turning to my Dad he said; "this is the Kid I was telling you about, I've been paying him out of my pocket but you might as well list him on the payroll." Then he said "Hey Kid, what is your name anyway?" I looked at Dad and grinned. Dad looked at Fred, tipped his hat forward while making a scratching motion on the back of his head and commented "no wonder I couldn't figure out who you were talking about. I thought he was just running tickets over to the office, I didn't know he was working back here too. This is my boy." Fred got a big kick out of this and recounted it on several occasions years later, but I was still known as "The Kid".

I learned the traits and characteristics of various kinds of livestock. Some of the men had a fear of bulls. I had no fear of bulls but was very wary of horses due to being stomped on when a small boy. We had an arrangement where I'd tie up the bulls when required if they'd take care of the horses. I was to learn that the experienced hands gave a wild heifer the widest girth.

A heifer or young cow can become frightened and become emotionally unstable. In this hysterical condition they charge at anything without reason or restraint. When someone yelled "Wild Heifer" even the most inert would hastily climb the nearest fence and pass the word. To this day a highly distraught woman reminds me of a wild heifer.

The livestock did not include birds or bees but procreation’s fertilization process, its stimulants and compelling drive was dynamically displayed. It had no difficulty communicating without explanation. These activates could up staged all other events. They even captivated the attentions of a kid who's voice and vital parts had not yet dropped.

One Friday about 15 heifers were put in a pen next to a Bull Pen. Bull Pens were made of heavy posts and planks and built higher than the others. These heifers were beautiful animals and had been viewed by prospective buyers as breeding stock to improve their herds.

Every few minutes I passed the bull pen when running cattle from one set of pens to another. I'd noticed the bulls agitated behavior. Short stocky bulls were used in the 195O's for breeding but at that time large impressive looking animals were often selected even if of mixed blood lines. This animal was big, powerful and in his prime.

The heifers would mill about partially in response to the bulls behavior. The hind quarters of those in heat would be pressed against the gap between the fence planks. The bull would press his flaring nostrils against the planks then back off, extend his head and neck and give out a long low pitched m-o-o-o with eyes closed and his flanks sucking in and out. Then wide eyed he'd pace and probe at the rugged fence with unbridled urgency and single minded purpose. He'd rear up on his hind legs with fore legs against the planks, most unusual, more like a dog than a cow. His under carriage drooled and his two pendulous bags hung like weighted socks.

The heifers were bright eyed and nervously responsive to his movements.

I'd seen such agitation before but didn't give it much thought. A bull had never been known to get out of a Bull Pen. The fence was too solid and too high, I couldn't even reach the top plank.

As I came by the pen from driving some cattle to the far end of the yard I saw a sight I couldn't believe. The bull had crouched, there was no running room, and leaped on the top of the fence! His front legs and rib section cleared and he balanced for a moment on his belly with front and hind legs pawing the air till he slid headlong into the pen of heifers.

It was a miracle his parts had not been hurt or damaged. He fell headlong into the heifers pen and was soon up on his feet, if hurt he didn't show it. He was soon chest high above those heifers before servicing several before men were aware, got around to the gate to get him out.

He was taken to the bull pen and tied in. His Olympian leap went unappreciated due to considerable consternation. The heifers were registered stock and the bull was not.

The bull had acted fast, displaying fantastic recuperative power and determination to repeat the singular lunging event. The experienced hands had no difficulty identifying the impregnated heifers. When the bull lunged and thrust the heifers eyes would bulge as if surprised. After he slid off they'd stand with tails extended at half mast as if trying to eliminate and periodically moo. While uninhibited the bull refresh his sensation and initiated the post effect stance to another heifer. It seemed to have been a startling event for the uninitiated. The three heifers whose tails no longer hung limp were sold separately. The sale barn stood the loss on the damaged merchandise.

On Saturday the livestock bought by packing houses was transferred to the railroad freight yards. Cattle were driven up ramps into semi trailers then hauled and unloaded into large freight yard corrals.

The problems began in the loading. Reluctant cattle were whooped at and prodded up the ramps. So called bull whips were forbidden. They leave black and blue marks on the carcass. Reluctant animals were prodded with a cane wired as a hot shot. The electrical charge would jolt the animals. Eyes would bulge, muscles draw taut, veins stand out, and in an instant it would lunge up the ramp. It startled the nervous system more than it hurt.

Usually one bull was carried per truck load. Having been separated the bulls would mount on the way dawn the off ramp. The first bull would have the run of the herd till the next truck load with its bull arrived. Even in a large pen with lots of cattle, the vigorous activity of one bull does not go unnoticed by the other. Their sensual urge would be replaced by their inherited instincts to drive competition from their cows. They'd square off for a fight.

Bulls destined for packing houses were beautiful animals still in their prime but had grown too heavy for the cows and heifers. They had always been the king of their herds and had never known submission. The fights were powerful displays of brute strength. It would start with pawing and snorting then a short lunge and a bone jarring impact. All muscles in the animals body were mustered to the task of driving the other animal back. This intense expenditure of energy sent dust puffs from nostrils discharging gulped lung full’s of air.

These fights were stopped in the same manner and as suddenly as started by adding a third bull. Immediately the three bulls separated to form an equidistant triangle. Shifting and circling never daring to let down their guard, attack or mount. They'd still be standing facing the other two after the cows had settled down to chewing their cud. Their chemistry had reached a state of equilibrium.

A few years later a farmer told my boss and I a bull story that turned out to be No Bull. It was a cold winter day when he stopped by the Cream Station where I worked. He was quite upset and was waiting for the veterinary who was away on call. He'd paid a lot of money for a prized inexperienced but eager bull.

It had been a sub zero cold night with a steady biting wind. This had not deterred the young bull. Cattle would usually face into a wind standing side by side and end to end. Apparently this bull stood too long to close to the down wind end of a cow in heat.

A bull is equipped with a round pointed mechanism that is retracted and protected till put to use. It is not unsheathed until properly poised at the threshold at which time it extends to full length like an extending telescope antenna. Strained belly pushing urgent shoving is followed by a final eye blinking lunge. Then the animal relaxes and slides off leaving the telescope extended to chest length. Bare and exposed to the elements it normally retracts in length and diameter disappearing into the protective sheath.

This young bull had gone through the sequence to the point where his telescope was supposed to retract. However, the biting cold air had a reverse effect on his sensory system and the mechanism would not deflate, it stayed extended and exposed. Completely unprotected the damage ranged from frost bit to a near frozen tip. He was observed the next morning as a hunch backed pain wracked animal. The man had put him in the barn and was hoping the vet could amputate.

Visiting Earl & Nina Talley

Single Shot 22 When about age 13 Santa filled my request for a rifle. I'd often go hunting on foot. Wearing an old felt hat, no shirt, pair of pants, a cartridge belt of 22 bullets, a canteen and knife. The canteen being a leather covered whisky bottle made for me by Dick Grice, the ex cowboy shoe repairman, and an old butcher knife in a sheath also made by Dick. Carrying my single shot 22 rifle I'd often choose to walk the four miles, following a pasture draw, to see Nina & Earl. Earl was usually in the field but I'd always have a good visit with Nina before hiking back. On one visit, walking with Nina to the NW pasture to round up the milk cows, I was carrying my rifle, Nina said, can you hit anything with that? Aspiring to be a good shot, I said, I try. Nina said, OK show me what you can do, pick something and shoot at it. I looked about and all there was were fence posts, I started to aim at a near one and then decided I should at least pick one at a longer distance away. I said, that one, I'll hit that one. Nina said, that's fine but tell me where are you going to hit it. Ugh, I'd have picked a closer one if I'd known she was going to say that! I said, the top barbed wire where it's stapled to the post. Nina said OK, go ahead. We both stopped, I took careful aim and squeezed the trigger. Twang...... Golly! I'd knocked the staple out and the top wire was vibrating like a violin string, I was startled! Nina said Whow! I'm impressed, you really can shoot that thing. We said nothing more about it as we rounded up the cows, I was very careful after that to never shoot at anything when Nina was about; I could have only undone my unexpected success. She was very nice and didn't joke about my lucky shot., I sure she knew it was pure luck.

Previously I'd consume a box of shells just firing away at anything. After this incident I'd strive to make every shot count. There were many rabbits about then and everyone considered them fair game for target practice. I had not yet developed an aversion for shooting for the fun of it.

Gathering the Eggs Always wanting to help and have a Job when time to do chores, I'd gone along to learn how to milk cows. I was still to young to have much of a grip, after taking time for a lesson or two it was obvious that Earl & Nina would need to do the milking in order to get done. They were milking about 6 cows at the time. So I helped toss feed to the cattle in the coral, fed the chickens and gathered the eggs. They had a large chicken house to the north of the house with a large fenced in section but most of the chickens ran loose except for sitting hens, however they all gathered for an evening meal at the chicken house and would go in near dusk to roost for the night. Most were ready to sleep after chasing bugs and grass hoppers all day. Most were Leghorns & White Rocks, common breads of the time. I had gone through the Hen House searching each nest for eggs, sometimes moving an old biddy to gather other chickens eggs under her. I had about 1 1/2 milk buckets full of eggs which I then took to the back porch of the house and put the eggs into an egg case for delivery to town. By then Nina had left milk to put in the separator and gone back to milk some more while I turned the crank on the cream separator. The handle represented an infinite load as it slowly gave way transferring it's energy into more and more speed of the separator disks, you knew when you had it up to speed by the sound of it's high RPM. The input separated into cream and whole milk. I took part of the whole milk to the chickens, Earl used the remainder for a calf and the hogs. I was trying to learn all and anticipate what needed to be done.

Next morning it was time to do chores again. Earl & Nina went out to milk first and we'd all have breakfast after chores were done. When chores started when it was not yet light, but we'd gone to bed shortly after sunset, a novel experience for me, as I grew older I'd been permitted to stay up late. When I realized they were up I got up too and headed out to the chicken house to do my part of the chores. My gosh I searched and searched but only found one egg! I figured if the cows were ready to milk in the morning the chickens would have laid their eggs too.

Nina got a big kick out of telling the other cousins some of whom lived on farms about how Darrell had learned that chickens don't lay eggs at night. Nina had an engaging laugh causing you to also find humor in the tale and join in the laughter.

Fixing Fence: Earl was an energetic hard worker. They had a lot of pasture as well as cultivated land and there was always lot's of fence to fix. On one visit I went with Earl to Fix Fence. We drove his old 1933 Chevy Truck. I'm not certain about the model year but that's close enough as they didn't change much for a few years then. Earl had previously dumped loads of tree limbs he'd cut on his South Section of pasture. That pasture was indeed a section of buffalo grass which encompassed a draw extending to the south of the Sappa Creek. This pasture was about 5 mi SW of Holden's place. There were trees in the multi branched pasture draw, Earl had trimmed these for fence post material. Our task of that day fixing fence was to split these logs as each would produce from two to four fence posts, then set these in place replacing frail or deteriorating ones.

Earl had brought along a hand auger, a bag of sugar and a glass jar of Potash plus, a rag. a string of for fuse and matches. We augured a hold mid length in the log 3/4 through. Then Earl carefully mixed Potash and Sugar and poured the mixture into the hole in the log. He then poked in a fuse & stuffed in some rag to hold the charge in place. He'd then light the fuse and we'd go a safe distance away. The charge would go off splitting the log apart. This method had probably been in use since Colonial days. This was one of many things I was leaning on every visit with relatives, some things you couldn't learn in town.

After replacing a string of posts we would string barbed wire, we stapled four strands to each post, equally spaced to chest high. After a string was in place a rope pulley Earl called a fence tightener was used to pull the barbed wire taunt, then it was wrapped about the end post and stapled fast. Later I was to use a Fence Tightener to pull a flat belt tight when driving a flat belt on a Wheat Blowers. In last half of High School I'd gone to work for the Oberlin Milling Co applying what I'd been learning.

Going to the Movies When in Grade School, before the days of TV, it was a thrill to go to the MOVIES. Some time between Kindergarten and eighth grade they upped the price from 10 cents to 25 cents to get in. For "Theater Entrance" adulthood came at age 11. The price went from 25 cents as a Kid to 75 cents as an adult, with popcorn and coke 5 cents each. That was a big expense when it took an hour of hard work in the sun hoeing weeds to earn 10 cents; even popcorn became a big decision. That was the age when I felt lucky I didn't have to pay some girls way to see the movie. There were News Reels on Sundays, Double features on Friday and Saturday, special features on Thursday and Perils of Pauline on Tuesday and Wednesday -- they had a "gotcha" for each movie that came to town.

It was called the Theater House because down front was a piano and place for musicians and above a stage with the movie screen at the back of the stage. Before movies and before Talkies traveling performers would come through town putting on shows in the Theater. There was no other entertainment and such traveling shows were a big occasion.

There were plush seats downstairs for full grown adults, a balcony for us kids and an upper balcony, viewable from the projection room, for "sweethearts". The kids in the upper balcony would share a box of popcorn, after paying the girls admission, the boy couldn't afford extra popcorn for himself. Void of this extra expense us kids in the lower balcony each had our own box of popcorn. We became very imaginative like "peal" a popcorn box, like a continuous potato peal, making a long string to lower from the balcony to the top of some unsuspecting ladies head below, we never "picked on" the men. We were subject to eviction if the manager had to stop us twice!! Golly that was excitement!!

Perils of Pauline, that was the real thriller of the week. It was a series of "shorts", 15 min movies, of the heroin Pauline; the beautiful damsel perpetually in distress. There was never a shortage of handsome men to come to her rescue in the nick of time; all week you were left with this image of Poor Pauline, just sure to suffer an inescapable catastrophe....

We kids would wonder how they would get Pauline out of the predicament. We'd some how show up with the admittance fee for the next in the series. Between Pauline and Radios "I Love a mystery" we thought life couldn't be any better.

Buttered Popcorn There was the choice of buttered and unbuttered popcorn, buttered cost 5 cents more. About midway through grade school they came out with margarine made from vegetable oils as a cheap substitute for “real” butter. It was generally agreed that real butter tasted better, but during the depression, saving a few pennies was a major consideration. There was a big flap, the dairy industry insisting that they could not add coloring to make the normally pale margarine look like butter. Coloring came separately and the housewife could add it later if she wanted her Sunday dinner butter dish to look like butter.

I worked at the Sproul Creamery making real butter. It was readily apparent that margarine and butter were quite different. Butter melted quicker, and had a richer, generally preferred taste. However there were exceptions, like when the pastures dried up and for a few months all the cows could find to eat had a high content of “pepper grass”, which gave butter a bad taste. For some time real melted butter was used on the popcorn, but in time people accepted “butter oil”, made from margarine, as being butter on popcorn.

Prior to WW II almost all farmers milked cows, after WW II there was a shift to big daries, cream stations went out of business and the distinction was lost, margin became accepted as if butter. As the world population continued to double real butter became a luxury item.

When a farmer sold his cream, it’s value was based on it’s "butter fat" content. The cream was stired and a sample taken. Some from this sample was put in a test bottle and sulfuric scid added to the sample of cream to separate the oil from a test sample. The long necked sample bottle was placed in a centrifuge and spun, so the oil would rise and be measured against a scale imprinted on the neck of the sample bottle. A farmer was paid not only for how much cream but also in accordance with it's "butter fat" content. Lifting, pouring, washing, sampling, testing, pasteurizing, churning, wrapping, etc was a part of how I paid for two balcony seats and two boxes of popcorn. That which taste buds call butter is in the part that floats to the top of melted butter, not the taste of the oil that settles to the bottom.

Learning to Drive: Earl's folks and his Bachelor Brother Raymond lived with them near by. Earl and his brother often helped each other. Raymond & I got along very well he taking an interest in helping me learn how to be of help about the farm. He took it upon himself to teach me how to drive the Chevey Truck. He drove out into one of the pastures stopped, turned off the engine and asked if I'd like to drive? I said sure, I was probably 14 or so at the time and had to really sit up to operate the controls and see out. He gave me some brief instructions and I asked question. I started the truck and we moved out. I killed the engine once by letting the clutch out too fast be I learned fast. After a few times of starting & moving the truck on the job I was considered checked out and a qualified hand for operating the truck or machinery on the farm. At that time I was also working part time for the Sproul Creamery. Earl Sproul aware I was driving Earls truck soon had me driving his Chevey Car pulling a trailer hauling large cream cans of buttermilk from the Creamery to his hog feedlot. Only that was more difficult as I had to back the loaded trailer to get it in place and lift the 100 lb cream cans to dump their contents into mixing barrels to make bran-buttermilk slop for the hogs. Thus when Earl Talley had a need I had learned enough to know how to manipulate equipment about to do farm tasks. All kids on a farm knew how to operate equipment’s with skill before considered old enough to be licensed to drive on a highway.

During harvest I drove the old Chevey Truck to town with a load of wheat before I was old enough to have a drivers license, not unusual at harvest time for a work related farm task. That was a memorable experience as the engine had a struggle pulling the heavy load and the brakes too weak to be very effective. Thus it was necessary to know how to use the engine to brake as well as pull. Earl & Nina had taken on a lot of work as they were farming rented land as well as their own, Norman had not been born yet so they were glad to have me to help & I was eager to do so at an early age.

Mother kept insisting we have a picture taken together – before I grew up

Colo. vacation with Mom & Dad plus Aunt Margrett & Uncle Francis, Barclays 1933 Ford

Rell, Ila, Darrell Landau; Francis, Margaret Barclay; Etta, Lila June, Doris (Uncle Bill) Landau

Grandmother Bobbitt had photo of Ballanced Rock – I insisted on sitting under it for photo

Just below Leadville CO was this cabin home of two old bachelors

Their living room couch was an old deluxe car. Their home was well furnish with running spring water.

Ila and Margrete feeding the burrows Rented home while our new home across the street was built.

This was the Betcher’s home after our home was finished. Mrs Betcher had mental problems and would be put in a home when I was in high school

Darrell and Chuck Barclay on sled our dog Sport on right

Sproul Cream Station

Making Egg Cases: When I was in the 4^th grade, Earl Sproul a good friend of Dads and a near by neighbor with daughters one and two years older than I who played in the band, offered me a job making egg cases. Earl had a machine in which you placed precut wood parts. You clamped two ends and a center piece in place then nailed on a bottom and two sides using shingle nails. I was paid 2 cents for each of these I assembled. I was delighted to have another job – but became very tired of the monotony – I’d spend all day pounding and pounding stacking finished boxes – it seemed I could barely keep some empties ahead of demand. Though the pay seemed low, it was about all the traffic would bear. At that time eggs dropped to 9 cents per dozen. Earl’s cases of eggs were periodically picked up by truck along with cases of butter in cartons.

Making Butter: Earl bought cream which he stored in 10 gallon cans in a refrigertor until time to make butter. He had a large steam heated pasteurizer. Sometimes he’d have me help pasturize and operate the churn with was a large wooden container with a door in the middle and bearing supported end plates. You dumped pasteurized cream in, the turn it on to slowly rotate, where internal blades would turn the butter being formed. The butter milk would be drawn off from one end and put in 10 gal cans for later use in feeding hogs. Earl sometime left me to operate the pasturizer and churn. I could roll 10 gal cans of cream about – they weighed about 100 lb – and lift them into and out of the refrigerator, but I had to pour half out into a spare can in order to lift them head high to pour contents into the pasteurizer. I could like wise fill the churn. I could also roll the cans of buttermilk out onto the drive then lift them up into the back of a low slung trailer connected to the back of his Chevey car. I’m sure he initially checked to see if I could handle this on my own – probably telling Dad if I’d found a way to do it all by myself.

Backing the trailer with some six cans of buttermilk down an alley way to the hog pen took a while to master – but I was soon able to do it. When all the way back I’d dump the buttermilk into 55 gallon drums to which I added sacks of bran – which was stirred then poured into 2x10 troughs inside the pig pen. This was called slopping the hogs. Those hogs loved that stuff as if you were feeding them ice cream.

Wrapping Butter: The butter was removed from the churn and placed in large wooden square boxes and placed in the refrigerator. When there was enough butter the boxes would be pulled out and placed on a special table equipped with a hydraulically lifted square plate. A wire frame for on pound or quarter pound slices was placed over the top of the wooden case and the plate pumped up, pushing up while cut pieces of butter. A one or quarter pound strike off board with cutting wire was swiped over the top leaving the cut butter pieces ready to be wrapped. Earl, his wife Etta, daughters Loraine & Dorothy plus me would then wrap each piece and place them in cartons. These would then be stored in the refrigerator in larger boxes to be ready for shipment when the truck arrived. We always had a good time chattering as we worked. We always did this at night, sometimes working till 10 pm before finishing. I did not help with the creamery part until in the sixth grade and continued until I went to high school. Elmer Brown who operated the Cudahy Creamery on main street offered me more money.

I very much valued the work experience with Earl and family – they indeed were lasting friends. Earl had been in the Navy during WW I. After WWII he closed the creamery, worked for a while as a carpenter then move to CA where he ran a motel.

Etta Sproul, Vilet Roach, Ila & Rell Landau, Mike Roach & Earl Sproul

At Fresno CA where Earl arranged to give his old buddies key’s to the city.