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On The Front Porch
Welcome to Sittin' On The Front Porch.. Come on in, grab a cup of coffee(the pot is always on),
a cup of tea or your favorite beverage and visit with us by the cozy fireplace. When the weather is warm, sit in one of the big rockers, or on the swing out on the porch.
Stop by often and sit a spell with us, you'll always be welcome!
Some days are diamonds, some days full of spurs, but at end of day sittin' on a country porch puts it all in perspective....
The Old West Is A Time and Place of the Heart----
Just Living by the Code of the West ...If they ever saw a sunrise on a mountain morning Or watched those cotton candy clouds go by Then they'd know why I live beneath these western skies I got peace of mind and elbow room As we make memories just a sittin' on the country porch
Cherished memories are unforgotten treasures That are the roses that grow in our heart.. to be with you always.. Glad ya'll stopped by.... Wishing happy trails to you until we meet again.. |
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On the Front Porch With You
Here is the song from the 1963 Walt Disney movie, "Summer Magic" that gives you that comfortable warm feeling of sitting on the front porch and enjoying one of the simple pleasures of life. "On The Front Porch With You", sung by Burl Ives.
written by the Sherman Brothers The pace of life slows down at end of day and life becomes much simpler when we sit a spell on the front porch and soak in the beauty of the land that surrounds us. It is in those moments we quietly reflect and recall the many small blessings that were bestowed upon us throughout the day...... |
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Front Porch Views
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“Do you still gaze in wonder at the stars in the sky?” See Life Through the Eyes of a Child and Life is a Better Place I was glancing through the lyrics of the song ‘Through the Eyes of a Child” by Mark Burrows and Greg Gilpin when began to ponder and wonder why and when do we on this road of life we travel, do we put aside and lose our inner child on the path to becoming adults? Or do we have that inner child within us always and we are so unsure of ourselves that we lose that part of ourselves in our quest to be responsible and mature. It seems to me that we should cherish and never lose the child’s soul that was given to us at our life's inception. Some of us stay curious, full of energy and joyfulness, accepting and seeing the world dawn with a newness each morning and looking forward to the small surprises the day will surely bestow upon us. Others, somewhere along the way lose that inner child. Perhaps due to the people they surround themselves with, others may for a multitude of reasons or excuses lose that quality. The question then that keeps begging to be answered is why do some lose it in spite of all that happens to them and others don’t and how do they come to the knowledge that one can become a responsible adult while retaining our inner child? The inner child sees the amazing wonders and beauty of ordinary, everyday events such as the sun rising or the moon setting and the stars twinkling for all the world to see as well being so excited that one can barely contain one’s self when extraordinary life happenings cross our paths. There seems to be no reason that our inner child as a responsible adult should not be brought forth and released, as it is what keeps life amazing and unforgettable. All this pondering and musing brought back several vivid memories of childhood and how as a child we see the world surrounding us. It is incredible that so many can lose that same wonderment we have as a child when they reach adulthood. As a child my siblings and I spent many hours playing outside. When indoors would gaze through the big picture window or at times just would sit on the front porch as we watched and listened to the ever evolving world that was beyond the realm of our little corner of the life. Much could be seen and heard. As a child growing and absorbing all that was around me seemed to be ever changing and ever growing. By observing all that went on around us, we were unconsciously learning about responsibilities of adult life as we enjoyed being children in a much simpler time. The neighbors coming and going about their daily business, going to and from their jobs, tending to the housework and their children, household chores, the grass being cut, snow being shoveled, cars being washed in the driveway. More sights and sounds come to mind from those carefree days, such as the teenage neighbor feeling his oats with a brand new driver's license tries to burn rubber as he leaves the driveway, and the inevitable sounds of his parents yelling at him to slow down before he kills himself or someone else and quit burning up the tires or he wouldn't be using the family car again; sounds of giggles and screams of delight as children played, the occasional sound of a baby crying, and the voice of his mother saying ‘shhhh.... 'Sweet baby' don't cry, all will be ok, momma’s here‘, a barking dog, or cats meowing. Listening to someone practicing the piano or learning to play the flute mingled with the daily sounds of life taking place. Waking to the smells sounds of coffee brewing, bacon frying, sunrises, hugs from Mom and Dad, siblings scrambling for turns in the bathroom were all part of the beginning of a new day. Some days spent playing outside all day, other days were spent just listening to the rain fall, or the sounds of thunder and lightening seemingly shaking the entire house, the wind blowing through the trees as we played inside during bad weather. The many nights anticipating the morning light which would surely bring fun and adventure as the moon rose in the sky, hearing the quiet of the night, or the soft sounds of snow falling as the sandman drifted us off to sleep into the realms of childhood dreams. The sounds of whistles for this one and that one as it was time to come home or parents calling a child's name to come in for supper. The sound of the blades of a push mower cutting grass, the whirring and click, click of a water sprinkler watering the lawn, crickets and locusts at night, the sound of a bee humming in the day as if trying to keep harmony with the chirping of the birds. Smells of baking bread, cakes or pies, as the windows were left open during all but the coldest days of the year. Anticipating ice cream and hearing the whoosh whoosh of the ice as it as we cranked the handle on the ice cream maker. Sounds of church bells ringing on Sunday, the choir singing. Smells of roasts in the oven and fried chicken wafting through the air as families returned home from church and gathered around the table for dinner. The quiet as families napped after Sunday dinner and the occasional snore from at least one member of the family. The sounds of the clip clopping of a horse hoofs, or ‘hi yo silver’, or Roy Rogers singing ‘Tumbling Tumble Weeds’ or ‘Happy Trails’ coming from the radio as we woke from a nap. Bath water running for the nightly baths, bedtime stories, prayers being said, saying night to each other, the click of the light switch as the day was done. Looking forward for the tomorrows to come as dreams filled our sleepy heads. Those sights and sounds from childhood remain as picturesque and alive as the scenes that frequently traverse my mind of those carefree days of youth. There is nothing more delightful than hearing the sounds of uncontrollable giggles coming from children at play. One must not forget how it is to giggle with abandonment at some childish antic or something we deemed to be quite hilarious for no reason at all. Many times this occurred at the most inappropriate times which would cause us to giggle even more. Laughter and giggling without restraint is good for the soul. Laughter is contagious and healthy. We should do it more often and release that inner child within us. Daily life, constant, but ever changing through the eyes of a growing child. Life as it was then, simple childhood memories that filled our days with delight, that we as adults sometimes feel are just things of the past. If we set our inner child within us free, will one see we have lost nothing? All those things are still all around us. No matter how old we become, frail and fragile, it seems that if we continue to see life unclouded, look for the excitement, anticipate it, find an adventure around every corner, life will be filled daily with a treasurer trove of memories to store in our heart. Dealing with those adult items, we have to tend to in life appears to be just part of being a responsible adult. Those things are also very much a part of life. The other part it seems would be in releasing the inner child we were given upon our inception and seeing the world around us through childlike eyes so that we recognize and realize what is important in this life---the simple pleasures and the ‘gift of life’ itself. Obviously, I am by no means an expert on such things as ‘the inner child within us‘ and this is just my thoughts, musings, and memories. However, I have released my inner child long ago or maybe I never lost it, and right now I am excited and anticipating the adventures that tomorrow will surely bring along with the responsibilities, but first the sandman needs to work his magic, so that I will be able to keep up with my inner child as a dawning of a new glorious day will be here soon…. “It's not where you look, More thoughts, random musings and memories of a small town girl to be continued…… |
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Over the River and through the woods.......
by SB Aug. 28, 2010 Over the river and through the woods to grandmother's house we go... It was an idyllic childhood, carefree with all the wonderment and innocence of being a child growing up during that period of time. I was quite fortunate growing up that I still had many grandparents still living, not only my maternal and paternal grandparents, but quite a few of my great-grandparents as well. In total had 7 grandmothers(includes the great-grandmas) and 5 grandpas(also includes the great-grandpas) when I was born. This writing is about just a few of the treasured memories I have of the times spent at one of my great-grandmothers and her sister, my great aunt, that lived in Cedar Vale. We seemed to spend most weekends and all holidays and many summer days going to Cedar Vale which we always called going "up home". To this day, my family will ask if we are 'up home" or 'down home' when we visit on the phone. We had plenty of family and friends that kept us quite busy visiting, as both my Mom's and Dad's parents, my grandparents, some of my great-grandparents, along with many aunts, uncles, cousins lived in Cedar Vale or nearby in Sedan. My Dad's parents then lived in Sedan just a short drive away and for a time lived in the little town of Chautauqua, then my grandad moved back to Cedar Vale after my grandmother passed away. Genevieve (Vieve) G. (Hills) Barger was my great-grandmother. I and my siblings have wonderful memories of her and my Great Aunt Vilette(Vi) Hills, her sister. Aunt Vi lived with my great-grandmother after my great-grandfather died in the 1930's. They were the daughters of my gg-grandfather and gg-grandmother (Col. F.M and Annie (Proper) Hills. They had 11 other siblings, plus 3 half-brothers. Col. F.M Hills was the first mayor of Cedar Vale and also was elected mayor two other times. His brothers came to Cedar Vale around same time as J. R. Marsh in 1869 and had one of the first businesses with Marsh. Col. F.M. and his wife Anna(Proper) Hills and their 3 oldest children came a short time thereafter around 1872. Great-great Grandpa Hills also had 3 children from his first marriage. They would have seven more children, all born in Cedar Vale. Grandma and Aunt Vi were well into their years when I was born. Fortunately, I was blessed to have them in my life all my growing up years. It always seemed that they had just had their hair done as it was always perfectly styled. Grandma had white hair that had a golden tint laced throughout the finger waves of her hair, whereas Aunt Vi's hair was tight silver curls and a few waves as typical of the hairstyles at that time. Both were short in stature with brown eyes that seem to twinkle whenever we were around. At times they almost seemed fragile, but they were hard workers and very independent women. In order to be able to support themselves, they took in washing and ironing for many people in Cedar Vale. I was mesmerized by how they did their laundry and as a child thought it was a wonderful treat to be able to go and help them. Although, as I grew up, I realized how hard they worked for such a pittance of a fee they charged for their efforts even though it was probably in keeping for the times. They had a wash house out behind their home and they used wash tubs that the water was heated in and kept hot on an old cast iron burner. Many trips were made back and forth hauling fresh water as needed. They would wash the clothes on an old washboard in hot sudsy water, then rinse them in the tubs of clean hot water and wring them out with an old hand wringer. They would dip the clothes in starch water before hanging to dry on the clothes line. They then would use an empty pop bottle filled with lemon or lavender scented water and added a sprinkler type top you purchased that was made especially for this purpose in order to sprinkle the clothes to slightly dampen the clothes in preparation to make it easier to iron. In earlier years before they had an electric iron, they would heat up a couple of cast hand irons on the stove so that they always had one hot and ready to iron with as one would cool off and have to be re-heated. Often when we came to visit, there would be clothing and linens hanging up, having just been freshly washed and ironed waiting on their owners to come pick them up. They continued to do this until the late 1950's when Grandma was in her late 70's. Grandma was a wonderful cook and I remember many of my favorite foods she would make with my aunt; salmon cakes, vegetable soup, chicken and noodles that would melt in your mouth, chocolate cupcakes with white icing flavored with lemon extract instead of the usual vanilla extract which was a welcome treat anytime and many more of our favorites. One of my favorite meals was and still is, were the delicious salmon cakes they would make for us. The meal was not complete without fried potatoes, and creamed corn. We all had our own special place that we always sat at for meals. The oak chairs seemed so big when I was younger that surrounded the old oak table with claw feet. I felt so special that my place was always between both Grandma and Aunt Vi. They had a cistern in the big enclosed screened porch attached to the back of the house just beyond the kitchen that we children loved to be able to fetch water as we watched the metal cups come around as they filled the metal pail full of water. It was a white pail trimmed in red that had a wire and black wood handle. They kept it sitting by the kitchen sink complete with a matching white metal dipper outlined in red and covered with a crisp white tea towel that had the days of the week embroidered on it. Even though ice seemed to be scarce, the water from the cistern was always cold and quenched our thirst. Their refrigerator for years was an old wooden ice box, but the icebox they had at that time was still antiquated in my child's mind as it was white box with attached legs that stood on the floor with some black outline trim around the doors that had silver handles and had some type of fan contraption on top of it. The phone they had was a candlestick type phone with no rotary dial and had it's own special ring so they would know that someone was calling them. They did not have a dial phone until the late 1950's or early sixties and were still on a party line for several years. They did not acquire a TV until late 50's, maybe early 60's and even then the picture was a bit fuzzy. They did have a radio but I don't really remember listening to it or watching the tv much. as most of the time everyone was busy visiting and catching up on what was going on in everyone's life. One might wonder if they had indoor plumbing with all the vintage appliances they still used from years past, but, they did indeed have indoor plumbing. You had go past the stairs just beyond the dining room which were located in what was a pantry in order to get to it. I don't know if it was added on at some point in time or built at same time the house was constructed. It was complete with all the modern plumbing of the era it was built and had a big white porcelain claw foot tub, a pedestal based sink and a commode, which was replete with the wooden water tank box above with a chain pull. It eventually was replaced at some point in time with a more modern one. When we were younger, we loved to sit on Grandma and Aunt Vi's laps and cuddle with them. They both had their own special chairs they liked to sit in. They had this wonderful old black leather furniture with walnut wood arms and legs, which included a sofa, a big rocker and and oversized stuffed chair.They also had an old wooden rocker that had a leather seat and it wore through several times as I was growing up. We then used a pillow where the leather had worn thin until the seat was replaced again. There was a big gas stove in the living room that was used to heat the entire house. In the summer time, ceiling fans kept us cool along with handheld paper fans. As children, we always seemed to somehow be called upon at some point in time during our visits to perform for Grandma and Aunt Vi. Our parents apparently were quite proud of our accomplishments much to our chagrin. I was quite shy during my younger years, and it would seem that my parents thought maybe I would overcome that by showing our family our latest acquired talents. By the time I was 4 years old and one of my sisters was 3, we began taking dancing lessons, and in a couple of years we began taking piano, expression lessons, and other lessons to enhance our lives. My grandmother and great aunt were a very enthusiastic audience, so as we grew up, it became less of a chore for our parents to persuade us to perform for them. I loved going to Grandma and Aunt Vi's as it was like stepping back in time, although as a child wasn't quite aware of how really back in another era it was when we would walk up onto the front porch to enter their home. To us, it was just Grandma and Aunt Vi's home. As you opened the Victorian style screen door, there was ad wooden front door with a frosted etched glass pane in the top half of the door which held quite a fascination for me. I spent many daydreaming moments conjuring up stories in my mind about the people that seemed to come alive for me that was etched into the frosted glass. It was a winter time skating scene with a couple of skaters arm in arm gliding across the ice, along with many children and other skaters. During those times that we were "seen and not heard' while the adults visited, I would become lost for a spell in that scene with nothing more than the simple but vivid imaginations of a child. Some of the windows in Grandma's home also held my interest and they seemed quite large and at the top of some of them they had stained glass, which I was not accustomed to seeing other than in church. There was also a type of window seat in the dining & living room. They had two bedrooms downstairs and another bedroom upstairs that you accessed just beyond the dining room right before entered the pantry area. The bedroom we slept in seemed quite large as it had two big iron beds in it and room for a cot as well. In the summer time the windows were open and most times a cool breeze soothed us as the rhythmic sounds of the cicadas serenaded us and lulled us to sleep. When I hear the cicadas now, it immediately transports me back to those summer nights in Cedar Vale . Grandma and Aunt Vi seemed to always buy things alike, but they always bought them in different colors, Grandma's would be in blue and Aunt Vi's in pink or red. One of my sisters and I always got the same identical items from them for Christmas and birthdays, no matter what it was, mine was always pink and my sister's was blue. One year the Easter bunny left us the usual assorted eggs to find, but also baby chicks. Mine of course was pink and my sister's was blue and my other sister's Grandma and Aunt Vi only lived a couple of blocks on what was known as the Hills block for years south of the main hub of town. They did not own a vehicle and walked everywhere that they needed to go. On Saturday afternoons, the big treat of the day for us when we were visiting, was that we would get to walk to town with Grandma and Aunt Vi. We would go to the Hankins Drug store and get an ice cream or cherry coke after Grandma and Aunt Vi had shopped for groceries they needed from the grocery store. Then at 3:00pm the town would have a drawing for money in the middle of Cedar street and many of the residents would show up to see if they had won that week. We spent a lot of time outside playing the typical games of red rover, jumping rope, hopscotching, hide n' seek, jacks, blind man's bluff and other games as well as playing anything we thought up. A couple of girls who we became friends with, Ula and Ola would come to visit us sometimes when we were at Grandmas. For some reason, we all loved playing Red Riding Hood off the curb under a couple of big old elm trees. That curb appeared to be so big & high as a child. . Now when see it, I have no idea why we thought it was such big curb and held the fascination it did for us. When we tired of playing, the double glider surrounded by a trellis arbor full of flowers and roses, which was a welcome respite that we loved to just glide slowly back and forth and let the breeze we created from gliding back and forth cool us off. Due to their meager income, their gifts to us at Christmas time must have presented them a great hardship, but somehow they always managed to give us something special. I still have a couple of the beautiful hankies that they gave to us at Christmas. The gifts though, were not what made the holiday special. One of my favorite memories of Christmas time is that the company my dad worked for always had a Christmas party for the families complete with Santa, gifts and mesh Christmas stockings filled with an assortment of candy, particularly hard candies. We, children always saved all the hard candy out of each of our bags and would put the candy in pretty containers and give it to Grandma and Aunt Vi, both of whom loved the hard candies. They always acted so surprised and excited to get this annual gift. We also would entertain them with a dance or sing Christmas carols. The meals they prepared and just being with them and other family members were the best part of the holiday. Great -Grandma Barger was small in stature, but a hard working woman all her life. I will always remember her quiet and gentle ways. She is dearly missed by all who knew her. Genevieve Geraldine (Hills) Barger passed away at Hays Hospital in Cedar Vale, Ks. After several weeks of illness. At an early age she became a member of the Cedar Vale Baptist Church. She received her education in the Cedar Vale school. She was a Past Worthy Matron of the Order of Eastern Star, receiving her 50th year membership award in 1967. She was also Past noble Grand of the Rebekah Lodge. "Over the river and through the woods"..... (to be continued)
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Col.F.M.& Annie (Proper) Hills & their daughters,
Vilette Hills, Minnie Hills(Smith), Hazel Hills(Perry), Grace Hills(Shue/Barnes), Genevieve Hills(Barger), Daisie Hills(Burdette) not pictured is Josephine Hills(Bryant) (on porch of the Hills home, Cedar Vale, Ks) |
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Over the river and through the woods.....To Grandma's and Grandpa's we go, with cousins galore, there was always something to do or going on when we went 'up home'.
Grandpa Snyder and The Sale Barn
By SB Feb. 21, 2011
Memories frequently flow through my mind and I'm easily transported to those carefree childhood days. Memories are wonderful and can be brought to one's thoughts, by sights, sounds or smells or just random meandering of the mind. Today, the mooing of cattle reminded me of a time past and to my Grandpa's(Ralph Snyder)Livestock Sale Barn. In the summertime we often were able to go 'up home' on Fridays to spend the weekend and one of the many treats of going up home on Friday was going to the Sale Barn. One might wonder what kind of treat this would be to a child, but to this kid, it was like nothing else. The sights and sounds were a wonderment for the imagination of cowgirl at heart whose visions and fantasies of the old wild west could easily have been nothing more than just listening to the cowboy radio shows, or watching the TV westerns which held my attention quite often. The reality was that I had real cowboys in my life, a Grandpa and uncles who are forever etched in my mind as the real deal....
As we approached the sale barn my excitement would grow as I anticipated getting to see my Grandpa Snyder, all the while I'm taking in all the sights and sounds. Cattle are mooing, trucks with trailers are parked everywhere, cowboys on horses, in the cattle pens, and my Uncle's Lloyd, Blaine, and Paul working the cattle and up on the cattle walks high over the pens watching the cattle until one by one they were brought into the sale barn to be sold. The sounds inside of cowboy boots walking across the dusty floor, the jingle, jangle of spurs, cowboy talk, the laughter, the calfs bawling, the chant of the auctioneer, Uncle Don(my Grandpa's brother) cracking the whip in the cattle ring and Grandpa with his cowboy hat tilted slightly to the side in the booth surveying and keeping close watch over the whole scene and occasionally hollering out at someone as the cattle are brought up for sale traipses through my mind like a movie. It seemed there was a sea of cowboy hats everywhere you looked. The memory conjures up the smells....manure, cigars, and the sweat of the hard working cowboys which permeated the air at the sale barn. It also brings back the the remembrance of the cafe at the sale barn....the hamburgers were like none other, and the pies, especially the coconut pie could make this little cowgirl's mouth water just thinking about it.
We usually had lunch first at the sale barn cafe before we would go in to watch the cattle being sold. The sounds, sights and smells were just as vivid in the cafe. The sizzle and smell of hamburgers cooking, the popping of the hot oil as the French fry basket was set down in it to cook, "order up" being called out by the cook, cowboys talking about the events of the day or the cattle they were buying and selling, sound of a soda as you poured it over glass of ice. If you picked the glass up quickly enough, the fizz sprayed lightly on your face. The hamburgers were the best I've ever eaten, and if we were lucky, we got to have a piece of pie. My favorite and still is coconut cream pie. Simple food, but scrumptious.
Once our tummies were full, we proceeded to the arena, where there were rows and rows of tiered seating overlooking the sale arena. We were told not to move and sit quietly or we might wind up buying a cow. That was a tall order for children, but for the most part we sat as still as possible. We always somehow managed to catch Grandpa's eye and it was a thrill when he would acknowledge us and we would wave back, only to be told with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face...not to be doing that again as we might wind up buying something. Occasionally, Uncle Don would look up and give us a wink as he worked the cattle and once in a while he would notice that we scratched our arm or chin and with a smile would ask us if we were bidding. Never quite understood how he thought that, but as grew older, it came to light, that many of the ranchers would only give a slight nod, touch their hat, scratch their arm or chin or a variety of other silent ways that the auctioneer and the cowboys helping him would recognize that they were placing a bid.
Grandpa was easily a combination of Roy Rogers, John Wayne, Gene Autry, Ronald Reagan, Ben Johnson,..but he was much more than that-- Grandpa was his own person- a loving husband, father, and grandfather and a true cowboy, who literally lived by the code of the west and the cowboy way. He was a kind and gentle person who loved his family. He always had time for his grandchildren to sit and talk with them, give advice when asked for and be compassionate when you needed it. Even though there was a bushel and a peck of grandchildren, you always knew you were very special to him.
Nowadays, the Sale Barn has been bought and turned into a home. The only sign that reminds one of days gone past is the road which is now called Sale Barn Rd. Many may remember those days, others just know it as the place where thousands of cattle were once bought and sold and shipped all over the country. For me, the Sale Barn holds many cherished memories, but the most treasured of all is of a real cowboy- my grandpa.....
Over the river and through the woods.....to be continued |
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Letters from F. O. Bryant
(His memories of Cedar Vale) (These letters were written in 1977)
January 5, 1977 Dear Folks: Your letter came today and will try to go back about 75 years and chronicle the happenings concerning the Barger family first of all. Newt's father, Seth, came to C. V. with his family after and bought the blacksmith shop. across the alley from the Baptist church. He taught Newt the trade and went back to Fairfax, Oklahoma where he still owned his shop. Harvey Barger joined Newt in the C. V. shop and they added a wagon shop to the business. Uncle Newt courted Aunt Vieve in Grandfather Hill's front parlor and were in the parlor of the home.(I remember as if it was only yesterday.)................. Newt had a home built and ready to move into and after the honeymoon of a few days began a life of real happiness together. The home was across the street from his mother, father and family. As well as I can remember there were 4 more boys, besides Newt, Eldon, Charles, Archie and Harvey. The girls names-Maude, Fern and Mable. The mother was a red head and so was Newt & Charlie, Arch and Harve were dark haired. The girls were all red-heads. Seth, the father was a dark-haired powerfully-built Dutchman. He knew his trade and taught his sons to do it right or else. The Barger family lived on the same block where my family lived so I saw quite of lot of them. Charlie and I used to fish a lot in Cedar Creek where we made fine catches of perch, catfish, bass and soft-shell turtles. We played run-sheep run on the prairie on the hillside between their house and the Mo-Pac depot. Our family (my dad was a barber) moved to Caney where my father bought a shop (6chairs-2 baths-cigar and tobacco counter, etc) where we lived until I was 13, then back to C.V. The Bargers, except Newt and Harve, had gone back to Fairfax so I never saw any of them except Charlie who came to visit Newt and Harve. he was about 5'7'' like his his father. All the Barger children went through High School. Bertha was a tomboy. No game was too rough for her to play. One day Charlie and I were fishing on Cedar creek when he hooked a soft -shelled turtle so large it took both of us to pull it to the shore. I jumped in and got behind the turtle and Charlie got it by a front leg. We pulled it up on the bank and turned it on it's back. Charlie then ran home and brought back a washtub. We loaded the turtle into the tub and it was so large we had to squeeze it in. We, took it to the hotel and they paid us $2.00 for it. This sounds like a tall tale but there are many more true experiences we shared as growing boys which cross my memory and was a part of our lives to be remembered as long as we live. Newt played on the K.O. (Kansas-Oklahoma) baseball league and when he hit a home run it usually went over the board fence at the north end of the race track at Hewins Park-(about 500 feet). He enjoyed the game very much as did Harvey and Charles. I used to help in the blacksmith shop doing odd jobs. The most important was making caponizing tools for Geroge Beuoy who sold them all over the U.S.A. I could go on and on but am getting tired and sleepy, so at your pleasure and request will write about the Hill's family which I assure you will be as complete and authentic as possible. You must admit my memory for my childhood is pretty fair considering my 82 years. Next time I'll write about the Hill's family. Sincerely, Frank O. Bryant (the last of the Bryants) |
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Letters from F. O. Bryant
(His memories of Cedar Vale) (These are series of letters written by F.O. Bryant in 1977)
January 7, 1977 Dear family- You, perhaps know about Grandpa Hills army record. But it may be of interest to learn that his father was a publisher in Philadelphia and that two of his brothers founded Hills Bros. Coffee Co., and that Clara Barton was related to him and came to his funeral in Cedar Vale. Clara was founder of the American Red Cross. Yes, Grandpa Hills and I were very close. he was 86 and I wa 21 when he died. I was his namesake and we had many talks, principally about his army years and I was always a good listener. I can see him now walking home from his store in his last years wearing the Army Blue, hardly able to make it but a proud soldier, knowing he would not be able to make the walk much longer. I was his namesake and it made me very sad to see him bravely trying to keep on even though he knew it could not last much longer. My mother was the oldest and kept books for Grandpa when I was born. There were 3 boys by Grandpa's former marriage Oscar, Frank and Milton. Frank was a superintendent on the building of tunnels and underpasses in Los Angeles and Philadelphia. I have seen the work done under his supervision in both cities and you cannot begin to visualize the scope of the undertakings. He came through C. V. in 1902 from Los Angels and spent a few days with the Hill's family and of course I and the children had an opportunity to talk to him. Oscar was the sickly one. he had some kind of respiratory trouble and passed away at age 79. I was there and saw him laid out just a few minutes after his death. Milton was 5'2" but a bundle of energy and wit. he and Oscar lived in one of of Grandpa's store buildings where 'Milt' had a combination fishing tackle, garden suppply(seeds, etc) store and did a very good business. He died at age 93. Here are the names of the children of Grandpa Hills and Anna Marie, his wife. Josephine(my mother), Daisie, Grace, Minerva, Genenvieve, Vilette and Hazel, Gilbert, Abner, William, Karl. Quite a bunch to round up for Sunday school. However, Grandpa Hills saw to it that all his chilren got a good eucation both in school and church. The girls all married except 'Vi' and she was so shy she never had a boyfriend. She made trips to the post office every day but lookd straight ahead, never seeming to hear when a young man spoke to her. But when I visited her in '52 she expressed the desire to come to California .... All the girls married well and in a photo taken when I was about 12 there were 42 children. That included a few from 2 of the boys. Bill and Karl never married. They were hunters, trappers and fishermen. They made money at it as the area at that time was virgin and alive with all sorts of fur-bearing animals and as the Caney river joined the White River which ran into the Mississippi there were many species of fish. I grew up with these two and was always with them so I naturally became an accomplished hunter and fisherman. some winters we had 30 traps along the Caney and trapped over a hundred pelts. Mink, raccoon, possum, muskrat and skunk which amounted to between four or five hundred dollars. We used to set lines and often brought in over a hunred pounds of catfish in one night. The largest was a Mississippi catfish weighing 104 pounds. In the winter we would camp out on a lake in Oklahoma for a week and hunt ducks. We often came home 70 or 80 which we distributed to our families. The ducks were frozen as the weather was near zero so they kept fresh. The lake was near Ponca City. Incidentally, each one of Grandpa's daughters was given a book about the regiment formed by Grandpa during the Civil War. I think it was the Pennsylvania 45th Infantry. I had one of the books given to me by my mother to be handed down to each generation so Harold must have one or some other descendant. The book has Grandpa's pictures when he was in the army and later when the book was published. About the pictures you mentioned: I really do not remember seeing them. But I may be able to recognize the people in them. I can remember the names of just about every person in C.V. At that time as there were only about 1,000 inhabitants and I used to deliver papers all over town. Well, it's 11:30pm and hoping you are not as tired reading this as I am. I will close for this time. Hoping you and yours a Happy and Prosperous New Year and the very best in every way. Sincerely, Frank O. Bryant |
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Letters from F. O. Bryant
(These are series of letters written by F.O. Bryant in 1977)(His memories of Cedar Vale) January 16, 1977 Dear Folks- Sorry! Gave you the wrong area code.......... Harold Barger was born in the home where Newt and Vieve lived next to Grandpa Hill's home. I remember whnt the house was built. The Hills' boys built it-foundation and all. Men in those days built their own homes and for $1,000 the homes were really nice. Harold was just a small boy the last time I saw him. He was husky and had a disposition like Newt's. I'm srue that he made it ok. One day Newt's horse stepped in a gopher hole in the vacant lot next to their house and I ran up to the shop and told him aobut it. Newt and Harve ran around the block to where the horse was and Newt took hold of the leg in the hole and lifted him right out. Harve just stood and looked. He didn't have time to help. Grandpa Hill's had a pear tree about 20 ft. outside the kitchen door and it had the most beautiful pear on it. (just one) No, I didn't know it but Grandpa was watching that pear every evening when he came home from the store. Everyone knew, but me, that he was waiting for the pear to ripen. He didn't know I was also watching - and I was crazy about pears. The pear was nice and yellow so I decided it was time to pick and eat it. I waited until the coast was clear and picked the pear but Aunt Minnie saw me and took it away from me. She told Grandpa what I had done and gave him the pear. Grandpa lectued me a bit but as I was only six at the time he relented and cut off a generous slice and we both enjoyed eating that delicious pear. Grandpa Hills had 600 acres of land allotted him by the U.S. Govt after the war. The land was sold by him to purchase 2 blocks where the home stands and south one block. The business buildings he had built took up a half block. He had hardware, farm machinery, feed, coal, ice and undertaking, all in connecting buildings. One thing I must mention-Uncle Newt and Harve came down to the shop before sunup 4th of July morning and took their anvils out into the street, placed them face together after pouring a quanity of black powder in the depression. Then Newt heated the end of a long iron rod and touched the powder which caused a bang that could be heard for miles which woke up the town. I was only 5 years of age the first time I saw Newt do this but Ican remember it as if it were yesterday. Newt always had a good supply of skyrockets and after dark on the Fourth he would go out in the street in front of his home and shoot them down the street high in the air. He always had quite and audience. Aunt Hazel was quite ill for some time before her death and her son who was manager of a milk processing firm near Denver took her to live with him. I sent her money each month. I wrote to Vi quite often but a friend informed me she had arthritis in her hands and was unable to answer letters. Grandma Hills was from Pennsylvania Dutch stock and was active most of her life. Everyone loved her and of all the family I loved her the most. She never had a cross word to any of her children. She was angel if there ever was one. I still have a pocket knife she gave me one day while I stood in front of the display of knives in Grandpa's store. Uncle Gilber(Gib) had a chili parlor in one of the stores and made a good living at 10 cents a bowl. Uncle Albert (Ab) worked on the Santa Fe railroad as baggageman. Uncle Bill took care of the ice business. He drove the route with a black, blind, horse that needed no driving as he knew the route and never failed to stop at every house that took ice. Bill was a sharpshooter in WW I and came home with medals all over his chest. Getting tired so will close for now. Next letter I will tell you more about myself. Respectfully, Frank B |
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Letters from F. O. Bryant
(These are series of letters written by F.O. Bryant in 1977)(His memories of Cedar Vale) January 26 1977 Dear Folks- You may wonder, at my age, how my memory is so good. I sometimes wonder myself as my wife says "I can't remember things that happened yesterday." There were so many things happened in Cedar Vale when I was growing up that were really profound and things I could never forget. Bank robbers, horse thieves, stores broken into and killings right on the main street. Those were really exciting days. One druggist shot and killed another druggist on main street because he called him an S.O. B. A farmer killed another farmer with a shovel over a dispute about the ownership of a little pig that was worth one dollar or less. The killer served one year in jail. Then there was a doctor who shot his wife after she had gone to sleep because he thought she was cheating on him. He also served one year in prison. Two bank robbers who took $500 from the Dosbaugh Nat'l Bank in C.V. only got as far as Hewins on horses when men behind a rock fence shot and killed them. A horse thief stole a race horse from the Adams barn and only got 2 miles out of town when a farmer, who was phoned ahead, shot him dead. There were cowboys who came into town Saturday nights and shot up the town after getting high on bootleg liquor. They never caused any damage except to the nerves of the townspeople as they shot up in the air as they were riding out. Those were the good old days! There were outlaws all over the country and I saw several who they brought in to Grandpa's Undertaking Parlor to be put away. Some men collected rewards for killing desperados but not too much. Maybe $100.00 to $500.00. One night a young man started to steal a Ford in front of Uncle Gib's Chili Parlor. He had trouble getting started and as I heard the owner yell "stop - stop" I just happend to be in the hotel lobby. I took the 12 guage shotgun from behind the front door and ran out just as the car was backing out and shot the rear tire flat. The man jumped from the car and started to run down the street but when Uncle Gib fired a shot which hit the street near the man he stopped and put his hands in the air. Uncle Gib always had a 45 caliber pistol under the counter and knew how to use it. The man got 6 mos. A salesman came with punchboards one day and Uncle Gib took one with a $60.00 12 guage pump gun. Uncle Gib asked me if I wanted to be the first punch and to his surprise I won the shotgun. He and I were alone in the parlor and he said if I took the gun it would make the board worthless so I agreed to leave the gun on the board. From then on he called a lucky so and so but never asked me to take another punch and I never did. Grandpa Hills didn't talk much about the Civil war but he promised to give me a short sword he carried but Aunt 'Minnie" took it when he died and I never saw it again. The sword had blood stains on it so he must have cut up a few "enemy" soldiers. Now for my life- I was born a blue baby and the doctor told my mother if I lived a year I might make it. The first thing I remember was when my folks took a trip to Rogers, Arkansas to see his family. I was 3 years of age. There was an outfit across the street making wooden bowls. A mule was going round and round to keep the machine going. Grandpa Bryant died in Enid, Okla when I was four and I remember seeing him laid out in the living room. He was a Methodist minister and traveled all around in Oklahoma, Arkansas, and kansas. I've often wondered about the great number of Bryants in that part of the country! Ha Ha! Two of his sons had a hardware store in Rogers, Ark. and my grandmother Bryant died when I was seven. My father and me went to Rogers to see her just before she died. The family moved there after Grandfather Bryant died. One of his sons came through C.V. when I was five on his way to Seattle. He started a taxi service there and did so well that he bought out a ferry to Vancouver B. C. and later he and his sons built and sold Bryant Boats. My family moved to Caney, Kans. where my father bought a 6 chair barber shop. I was eleven then. I shined shoes, cleaned the bath tubs(2) after men took their baths and cleaned the shop before the shop opened in the morning. The next move was back to C. V. I was 13 then. I worked in the local newspaper three days a week. One day there was a terrible storm in the hills northwest of C.V. and a water-spout caused a wall of water to come down Cedar Creek and washed out the Mo. Pacific bridge. A few days later a crew came to build a new bridge. I took my 10 ft cane pole and a can of worms and went to my favorite fishing hole below the bridge to watch them work. I was watching the men working when one of them slipped and fell in the creek. All I could see was his hand sticking out of the water and being carried by the current toward me. As he got nearer I suddenly realized his hand was going to go right under my fishing pole. I lowered the pole and put one arm around a small tree and braced myself. Sure enough the hand closed around the pole and I hung on for dear life. The pole swung around toward the bank. Two men workers came down on the run and one of them grabbed him by the arm and the two of them dragged him out. They rolled him over a log to get the water out of him. As soon as he was able to stand they took him back to the bridge where in a few minutes he was back at work. I have never told anyone about this except my mother. I have written about my experience and am going to send it to Readers Digest. I could go on and on but you must be getting bored so will close for now. Hoping you folks are all ok and will keep in touch. As ever, Frank B. |
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Letters from F. O. Bryant
(These are series of letters written by F.O. Bryant in 1977)(His memories of Cedar Vale) February 1, 1977 Dear Folks- The most spectacular thing I ever witnessed was Haley's Comet in 1910-11. The comet itself went across the sky and was followed by it's tail which filled the whole sky for months with a brilliant shower. No stars, moon or anything in the heavens was visible at night except the millions of sparks above. That spring Caney River flooded and we were living on a 9 acre farm near the Caney River. The water was overflowing the banks and coming into our yard. Dad and I hitched our horse to the buggy and got the family in it and by that time the water was about five feet deep. Dad went ahead and I held onto the back of the buggy and we made it safely in C. V. with the water waist deep in some places. That year we moved to Stafford, Kansas where my Dad bought a shop. I worked on the local paper. Teddy Roosevelt was on a trip through the western states electioneering for re-election as president. Earl Akers owned the paper I was working on. He was Lieutenant Governor of Kansas and arranged for his Uncle to walk up the aisle with a teddy bear and hand it up to Pres. Roosevelt on stage. It so happened the uncle had an accident the day before he was supposed to go to Hutchinson where the President was speaking, so they asked me to go instead. Of course I accedpted and boarded the train (Santa Fe Mainliner) for Hutchinson, 80 miles in 1 hr, 20 min. I took my place in the rear of the convention hall and as the President came out on stage I walked down the aisle with the Teddy Bear. It was about 80 feet down the aisle and I thought my knees would give way, I was so excited at meeting my first President. He took the teddy bear and said, "You are the first one to come down and give me a teddy bear. In fact it is the first one I have ever owned. Thank you young man." By that time I was so excited I could hardly walk back up to the rear of the hall. but he was not the only one who gained from the experience. I met three more Presidents ( Wilson, Hoover and Truman) after that, and two Governors, Warren and Brown of California. From Hutchinson I went Grenola, Kans. where my father had bought another shop and visited my folks for a few day days. While there I saw an ad in the K. C. journal where a plant in K.C. neeeded a superintendent. I phoned and was told to come on. I was 19 years of age. I got the job and married my first wife in 1918. In 1922 my only child Patrick was born. I came to California in 1928 my wife having passed away in the spring. I hitchhiked all the way from Oklahoma City to Glendale, Calif. where my brother Bill was living. From there I went to Oroville, Calif. My dad and mother and family had moved there where my dad had bought another barber shop. I was foreman of a commercial shop there for 3 years. Then I bought a newspaper and job shop in Roseville, Calif. in 1931. The "depression" really hit and I lost $3000.00 on that deal. From there I went to Sacramento, Calif. and worked in the state printing office until 1947 when I heard of a good job as proofreader on Redonda Breeze. I married again in 1948. I worked there until retirement in 1964. In 1952 my wife and I drove east to Philadelphia, Penna. where she had friends. Then we drove South to Florida and back to California. My wife died in 1970 and I married again to my present wife Nina in 1971. I bought this home in 1968 and enjoy living here very much. My son, Pat, came to California in 1955 and brought his children, Nancy and Michael. He started working for North- American Aviation that year and has been there as an inspector ever since.................. Well, there you have it! There is a lot more in my life that could write about and if you are willing to read more and are not getting tired let me know. As ever- Frank B. |
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Letters from F. O. Bryant
(These are series of letters written by F.O. Bryant in 1977)(His memories of Cedar Vale) January 26 1977 Dear Family, Hi, there you all: Your most welcome letter came today ... You may keep the original photo of the girls as you will treasure it more than I and a copy will be all I will need to show my family. They wouldn't know any of the folks but you do....... Here is some more nostaglia: In the fall when the first freeze kept the bees in their hollow trees down by the Caney river my uncles' Karl and Bill and I would go down to take honey. They would throw a rope over a limb or fork of the tree and tie the rope around me, under my arms and pull me up to take a look to find out how much honey there was. they were afraid of the bees but poor me I never was, or didn't have sense enough to be, so being lighter than they I always got the job. We took our share of the honey and left enough for the bees to live on over the winter. We wore netting over our heads and long gloves tied tightly around our wrists so we got stung only a few times as the bees were dormant from the cold. Yes, we had more fun hunting, fishing and trapping along the Caney River as it abounded in plenty of all those species in those days. Seventy years ago the country was wild and so were the boys and girls. Wish I could live those days over again. It does my heart good to hear about you folks putting flowers on the grave of my dear ones. I loved them all and all of them were loved by all who knew them. I remember Grandpa Hills funeral procession. It was a sad communtiy and some humor was expressed too. All the farm people for miles around came in buggies and wagons and there were about 20 dogs which came along with them The dogs stopped at every tree (and there were many trees) to christen them. Grandma Hills, God rest her soul, wept for several days and had a sad look on her face for months. She was the sweetest person I ever knew and dearly loved her family. I only hope I have lived a life so good that if there is a hereafter I will be privileged to meet her and Grandpa and all the family again, God willing. I have tried to live up to the good examples set by them. They were fine people that stood up for themselves. No cream puffs in the family -not one. The boys used to chase me home from school when I was about 10 years old and one day Bruce Aley was chasing me and instead of going home I ran to my father's barber shop. My father said, "what's the trouble?" I told him and he said "go out and fight him if he wants to fight." I had never fought before but soon found out and whipped him so bad his father came down and told my father not to let me pick a fight with his son again. |
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