HOLIDAY ROUTINE
At sea in the peacetime Navy: Deep within all of us is a treasure of memories. Not all are pleasant, however even the most unpleasant tend to mellow with time. So it has been when I look back on a short Naval career. I am grateful for the memories of those precious years. During years of wars or threat of war, our nation has issued a call to arms and the response has always met the demand. True, we had a draft system for many years and many responded because to do otherwise was unlawful. Many (a man?) evaded the draft for various reasons, but I daresay most responded because it was considered a duty. Such individuals abound in a free society where people believe that each person is entitled to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Perhaps in recent years an overwhelming amount of our people have distorted that principle to the point that they believe the world owes diem a living. I have never believed that and I take some pride in the fact that my children do not so believe. In the old Navy of which I was a part there was, and probably still are, an elite group of men. They were known as regular Navy. They could, with pride sign their name and rank or rate and then add three letters, namely U.S.N. That simply signified that they were on active duty by choice. They were not reserves. I must hasten to add that many did leave the regular Navy after a period of active service and joined the Naval Reserves. They trained on a regular basis and were subject to call to active service. The other group were the draftees who were there because they had no choice in the matter. One should not jump to the conclusion that they were second class sailors. Most of them were men with excellent records. Never the less, they were not sailors by choice. There was a distinction. I was regular Navy and it gives me a rather special feeling when I look at my discharge and it notes that Willard Franklin Morgan CMM (USN) was honorably discharged from the Naval service. Why did I leave the service after six years? That is another story. But back to the story "Holiday routine at sea." While at sea a ship is always underway. There were of course special times when it might be otherwise. A ship needs to be underway to keep steerage. In peacetime we might anchor in a sheltered bay. On rare occasions a few officers and even Chief Petty Officers might decide to go deep sea fishing. As a member of the engineers force I was sometimes assigned to boat duty. My responsibility was the engine that powered the boat. The crew consisted of a coxswain who was a petty officer and bowhook who handled the lines when coming alongside or leaving the ship and an engineer. These three men handled the twenty two foot whaleboat. At this point you may well ask, Did you really to out on the high seas in that little boat. Indeed we did. Of course fishing parties did not go out unless the sea was reasonably calm. The Pacific, which means peaceful, was well named. It could at times assume a glassy appearance with of course the ever present ripples. The surface is never still. What did the fishermen catch? Any party of which I was a member, trolled for tuna. The fisherman would pay out his line so the bait was skimming the surface perhaps a hundred feet behind in the boat's wake.
We probably moved along at perhaps ten knots. When a fish was hooked it was hauled aboard. At the end of a days fishing the fish would be taken aboard and prepared for food. I assume that the fellow officers shared in eating fresh fish. The officers had their own mess and stewards to prepare it and the chiefs had their own mess with a ships cook and some seaman called briefly to serve as mess cooks. I did my time as mess cook but never had a chance to eat any fresh fish.

May 1,1997
                                                       ELSIE IRENE
She was the third child of Frank and Elsie Morgan, horn and attended grade school near Studley, Kansas. I am not sure of the location of the home at the time of her birth. It was probahly at the headquarters of the Tom L. Pratt ranch just west of Studley. I believe that it was split up and sold. Not many of the old land holdings are left, however some fair sized farms have been put together in recent years. Times have changed. Most of the old spreads were grass and cattle operations; but now it is almost entirely cropland. I believe she may have attended high school for a short time however she did not graduate. She was probably the sister that I was closer to mainly because we lived close together in our adult life. It would not be honest to speak of a favorite sister because they were all special; each in their own way. I can hardly remember her before her marriage in 1927 at the age of nineteen. She cooked for Dad's dirt moving crew when they built the dam for the Houseworth Lake just north of Tasco. I spent time there (helping) her and I can remember going with Mr. Houseworth on times with a team and wagon to pick popcorn. Her marriage was not well celebrated in the family circle. It happened in this way. She told Mom that she was going to the home of a Mrs. Pierce in Tasco to sew. Mr. Pierce was the Union Pacific depot agent in Tasco. She returned home in the evening and announced that she had married Frank Richards. He was a farmer who had divorced his wife. I believe that he had two children by his first wife. I don't believe that I ever saw her or the children however a preschool grandson of his lived with Frank and Irene for a short time. I believe the surname was Dibble. Frank was an established farmer on the old redline. He made a good living by farming a quarter section and working for neighbors. He was a good hand and well respected by his neighbors. The family rift soon smoothed over and they would stop by our place on the way to or from town where they did their trading. It apparently was a successful marriage because his death ended it in 1967. I considered him a good friend and brother-in-law. He was the kids idol at family gatherings. Irene did a great deal of traveling and visiting the relatives after Frank's death. She died at the home of her daughter, Jo Ann, in Colorado Springs in the fall of 1980,1 believe. The memorial service was at the Mt. Pleasant Church but she is buried beside my mother and my infant son in the Hoxie cemetery. Mary, my wife, is also in that same plot. It may seem a bit strange to outsiders. My father was buried in 1937 when money was very, very short so he was buried in a plot with his father and mother. When Mom died, we kids wanted a plot of our own where we buried her. Now four of my close relatives live there. What does it matter where the body lies. Life is real Life is earnest
And the grave Is not the goal Dust thou art To dust returnest Was not spoken of the soul. Thus wrote the Poet Longfellow in "The Psalm of Life." You will find it inscribed on Mary's headsto

                                 THE OLD SWIMMING HOLE
I grew up along the Solomon River. Yes, it was a river when I was a hoy. In those days, it you were to go straight east from Erve Getz's store in Tasco you would arrive at the old ranch house which served as headquarters for the old Currier ranch. In my time it was sort of run down and unoccupied. It was also on the banks of the Solomon. There were many trees along that part of the creek. Just across the stream directly east of the house was a deep water hole. Its water and the stream were only joined during flood. This was the old swimming hole. I am sure it was used in summer because it had a diving board. The tenant who operated that layout was a man by the name of Ed Jones. We neighbor boys considered him a bit cranky and we certainly "were not above boyish pranks. We sometimes deliberately baited him a bit and he would lecture us about trespassing. You see we all had saddle horses and I lived on adjoining land. He had a large fenced pasture next to us and we could cross that fence and ride down to the swimming hole. It was easy to ride through the draws and arrive unseen. Then we would discard overalls, shirts, socks (if we had any) and shoes and enjoy the water. A towel was unthinkable. It was summer time. When we were done we simply dressed and let the water dry as we rode away. There was a gate in the afore mentioned fence but it was a long way over to it so we farm boys would make a let-down in the fence. You see we learned all about 'fixin' fence at an early age. Fixin was the venacular for repairing. What pray tell is a let-down. It sort of explains its self. It required taking the wire loose from the posts (usually about three in a row) then you simply pushed the wire down with one foot and led the horse across with an out stretched hand. It was necessary to teach a horse how to cross. Most saddle horses knew the routine. A word of caution here. Don't try it with an untrained or spooky horse. If the horse puts one forefoot across and then balks you are in trouble. If he fails to raise the foot high enough when he backs up the chances are very good that he will catch the wire below the fetlock and suffer a bad wire cut. He will carry this blemish the rest of his life. It could even damage his ability to function properly. I have used this procedure many times in the past. The trick is to know your horse and above all; you and your horse must be a team. I have known men who would continuously fight their mount. To watch such a spectacle makes an animal lover sick.

                                     BREAKING SADDLE HORSES
Winnie Francis Morgan was the fourth child horn to Frank and Elsie Morgan. A hrief sketch of her life is contained elsewhere in this collection of narratives. Wallace Samuel followed Winnie. His birth being in fifth place. In my early years we were very close. I would have been fourteen years old when he left home permanently. He worked away from home a great deal of the time but lived at home. His pastime was breaking saddle horses. I was his helper. That was probably a very accurate description of the process. We simply broke the horse to halter and after a bit of handling the next step was to saddle it and maybe spend a little time getting it used to the saddle. After this the horse was snubbed by a halter and rope to another saddle horse. This was my job. I, being mounted on the snubbing horse would take a couple of wraps around the horn with the lead rope. Wallace would then mount the colt, sometimes from the back of the horse I was riding. Once he was firmly in the saddle we were ready to go. Sometimes when the colt discovered something on its back things happened fast. Horses have a wide range of vision, including behind them. That is why work horses usually wear bridles with blinders. Blinders only allow the animal to see straight ahead. They are never used on saddle horses. One of the rules of snubbing is to keep the horses head on a very short rope. If the horse turns violent and is allowed enough rope, the man on the snubbing horse might have the forefeet in the saddle with him. This of course is not a good thing. Most of the horses that we broke were not that bad. Snubbing was a way to prevent some spills. After a few rides the snubber was more company and a model for the colt to follow until it learned to obey the actions and commands of its rider. At this point it is interesting to note that horsebreaking, whether it was to saddle or harness, was almost always accomplished with the aid of an experienced horse. Looking back, I suspect that this is part of the reason that I covered a great deal of the neighborhood on horseback. Sunday or holidays was when we worked with the colts. There was another way to break saddle horses. That was simply to saddle the colt and while he was being held, mount the horse. After the rider was firmly in the saddle the colt was turned loose. If the rider was good enough to stay with him then the horse was trained. This way was used a great deal and it seems like story tellers preferred to mention it in their writings. In my opinion this method had a drawback. If the horse was rather high strung it was likely that he might get the notion that a few seconds of pitching was the proper way to start the day. I quit riding many years ago. I only rode in later years when working cattle. So it was with Dad. From bronc riding to farmer. I can recall seeing him astride a horse only on a few occasions. Things have changed. Horse training has become a science. It seems that the trainer works alone with the colt. Many of the terms commonly used today were certainly not common knowledge in my day.
The term leads is an example. A good horse would do that naturally in tight situations of fast movement. To do otherwise would cause him to he unbalanced and maybe even trip on his own feet. It was something we did not concern ourselves about. If the horse was not surefooted he was soon culled from the saddle string. Even a gentle horse can injure itself or the rider if it cannot handle its feet. Wallace is mentioned on several occasions so I will not be redundant here. He died in a farm accident near Craig, Colorado in 1958. That is another story. It sort of closed a chapter in my life. Even as grown men I always had a sort of ache in my heart when we parted after a visit.

                                        A MORGAN FAMILY HISTORY
Sam Morgan came to the United States as a young man still in his teens. A permanent mark is necessary to establish ownership of an animal. It is only natural that when he established a claim on Museum Creek in early 1870 he found it necessary to chose a mark for livestock. This mark is referred to as a brand. His base of operation was very close to the place where Museum flowed into the Solomon River. Yes, at that time Museum was a flowing stream and the south fork of the Solomon was a river worthy of the name. Family tradition tells us that the date of his settlement is 1871. My older brother, Julius, assured me that this is correct. Due to this fact he chose to use the "71" as his brand. He used it for many years. Later Uncle Walt and Uncle Sandy used it in a partnership operation. Still later Uncle Sandy moved to Vona, Colorado in 1927. Since brands are registered by states, Uncle Walt became the owner of this brand. There is a Kansas brand registry book that will no doubt verify the above statement. Uncle Charley, another son, used the brand "17". My father, Frank Morgan, used a "7-". This brand is called a seven bar. He used it until his death in 1937. All of these brands were placed on the left hip. The same brand may be used in six different locations, namely; left hip, right hip, right side, right shoulder, left shoulder and the left side. I doubt if any of these brands are in use today, however they could be reregistered by anyone after the owner let his ownership expire. The reader will notice that all these brands used the same characters in different arrangements. It is interesting to note that all the above mentioned livestock wearing these brands were grazed within sight of the Solomon up stream from the Museum Creek operation. In 1953,1, a son of Frank Morgan, registered a brand called the M. The arrow is placed below the M This is the M arrow. It is interesting to note that the cattle wearing the M arrow brand were grazed on the Solomon even further upstream. All these bases of operation were and are in Sheridan County. When I am gone the Morgan brand in its various shapes will no doubt become history. My sons have no interest in livestock. The family tradition lives on. My daughter, Elsie, and her husband plan to continue a livestock operation at this location. They will use the "R lazy R." In this arrangement the lazy "R" is place beneath the first "R." Any numeral or letter placed in a horizontal postioon is referred to as lazy. The Rietchecks have a young son who has his own bucket fed calves so I believe it is fair to say that five generations of the family have owned livestock along this watercourse. It is no longer a flowing stream. The creek bed is dry except for occasional run off from heavy rains. It can be a raging flood. A short time after our family reunion in 1993 it flooded. The water came to the floor of our house. My wife and I waded to higher ground through waist deep water. The sound of the rushing water reminded me of the sound of the surf on the ocean. A neighbor said that it could be heard more than five miles away. An afterthought: A brand is produced by placing a red hot iron on the animal's hide. Another method that is widely used by horse owners is called freeze branding. It is produced by placing a super cold iron on the animal's hide. When properly done, the hair will turn white where the iron was placed. These irons are cooled in a solution of dry ice and alcohol. Liquid nitrogen may also be used. Note accompanying picture. Trees in background mark the south Solomon. W.M.

Dad with (some) family receiving the Kansas Farm Bureau Century Farm award.

My cousin, Katherine (Vera’s daughter) came through Kansas this past week. With her, she had photos albums! I scanned a lot of the photos. The photos with cursive beneath then were from an album of her mother’s. There are a few at the bottom with printing on them. That would be Katherine’s writing. A few, I took the names from the back of the photo. A few, I don’t feel qualified to say who everyone is. Maybe some cousins could help me out?

I presume that Aunt Vera took a lot of the photos. It seems that Uncle Wallace isn’t around much. But I could be wrong, it might be Julius or Robert that are missing.

I believe that Aunt Vera is in the back row second from the right. I think that Dad might be beside her to her left.

Rosa, Winnie, Irene, Vera, Lucille

Rosa, Vera, Lucille, Willard & Arthur in front

Vera, Rosa, Lucille & Arthur

Irene, Lucille, Vera, Winnie & Rosa

     This is a photo of my dad’s father as a young man. I’ve only seen a couple of photos of my grandpa. Both were after he had a family. I don’t know who gave this photo to Dad. I first saw it on the wall a few months ago among the photo Christmas cards. It looks like one of my sisters wrote on the back, so I don’t know whether it was sent to them or they wrote on it after Dad got the photo.

     When I first saw it, I was pretty sure I knew who it was because it reminds me of one of my cousins. I find it interesting that it’s taken with the “studio” in the background. Dad said this was his dad’s favorite horse. I wish I could remember his name. It seems it started with a D. But that’s all I remember.

     One Saturday after lunch I asked Dad if I could take it to scan and make a copy. Of course he said yes. I work in a photo lab/frame shop. I took it to work the next day and scanned & copied it. Then I laid it beside the scanner & it stayed there several weeks. He asked me about it once & I said I’d make a note to remember to bring it back. Well, I forgot for a couple more weeks. He then asked me if I’d gotten his dad’s photo framed yet.

     At almost 92, Dad’s memory isn’t the best most days. He remembered I had the photo & had had it for awhile. I’m guessing that he thought I’d taken it to frame or I wouldn’t of kept it for so long. So, I knew I should get it in a frame and take it back to him the following Saturday. And I did.

     During this time, he quite often said that he wished he’d gotten to know his dad better. Dad was only 17 when his father got sick and died. I think it was just a matter of days, but I could be wrong about that. I think his dad was a pretty quiet man and he had the burden of raising 10 children on very little money.

     I told Jess that I’d probably give him the framed photo & he’d ask me what it was for. That’s just how his mind goes quite often. So I was a little surprised that he got choked up and had tears in his eyes when I gave it to him. He looked at it for a long time before he handed it back to me & asked me to find a good place for it to sit. I was glad it was framed.

     Here are the other two photos I’ve seen of my grandfather. The one in the covered wagon with my grandmother, I believe was taken during Hoxie’s centennial. The other photo has one of the boys missing. I’m sure my dad is third from the left in the back row.

    

 

Arthur Morgan Biography (written by Art, brother to Willard)

At the time I was born, February 10, 1926, all my siblings lived at home. Later in 1926, my two oldest brothers moved to the Black Hills of South Dakota. Mom, Lucille, and I went to visit them during 1929 or 1930. We went by train to Denver, then north and east to the Black Hills.

My earliest memory was of a spanking I received when I was 3 or 4 years old. Lucille and I were left alone at home. We got bored and decided to walk to school. They found us and brought us home. They told us that if we did that again, we would get a spanking. We did and they did.

My second earliest memory was of my Grandmother Morgan [Jane Eliza (Jenny) Holmes]. Grandpa Morgan was dead by this time. She would visit all her children for about a week each year. She lived with one of her children most of the year. We always thought she was grouchy.

One vivid memory of the 1930’s is the “Dust Bowl” era. Most of the dust storms came during early springtime. When fronts came through there would be strong north winds with clouds of pure dust. These came intermittently from around 1932 thru 1937. Many people simply left the area with all their moveable possessions. I recall seeing them on Highway 24 with most going west. The move “Grapes of Wrath” is an accurate account of the times for the impact on people.

Rural schools (Grades 1-8) were on an 8 month schedule. We completed the term a month ahead of Hoxie city schools. In the early spring (1934 or 1935) between 3^rd and 4^th grade, I was herding cows about 7:30am along the road about a mile south of home with our dog, Boxer. I decided I needed to relieve myself. However, there was no place to get out of sight, so I did the obvious. About that time 3 of my cousins (the James High School group) came driving down the road waving and laughing. I never told anyone about the incident, I assume they didn’t either because I never heard anything about it.

Some of the chores we were expected to do included riding the saddle horse to bring the cows in to be milked, milk the cows, feed the livestock, herding sheep and cows.

When it was cold outside, we would read by coal oil lamplight. My favorite authors included: Zane Grey, Oliver Kirwood, and Emily Bronte.

As a child, we ate meat, potatoes, gravy, and all the vegetables we could grow.

Our meat included chicken, mutton, beef, and rabbit. Early in the winter, we would butcher a hog and cure the meat. We had a flock of sheep, so we had mutton. We raised chickens. Hens would start setting in the spring and by harvest time in July; the chicks would be 6-8 weeks old, just right for fried chicken served as the entrée during the main harvest meal at noontime. Harvest was a long drawn-out process that would last the entire month of July.

We grew potatoes, rhubarb, radishes, leaf lettuce, onions, and walnut trees. Mom would can hundreds of quart jars of the excess.

We would trade eggs and cream in town for flour, sugar, coffee, and spices. Mom baked bread once a week.

Other than rabbit, there was not a lot of wild game at that time. Initially, homesteaders worked a quarter section of land. This caused the wild animals to migrate west to less populated areas. The depression, drought, WWII, caused many settlers to permanently leave. With fewer people, the deer, antelope and other wild game returned.

There was a Presbyterian church in Tasco, KS (1 ½ miles from our home). We were baptized in the Presbyterian faith and attended services regularly. Our transportation to and from church services was team and wagon since we had no motor vehicle. As I recall, we were the only family to use this form of transportation.

The mule team and covered wagon are shown in a photo of the 1936 (50 year) celebration parade.

I always enjoyed school, both elementary and high school. Grades 1-6 were completed in a 1-room school at Tasco (1 ½ miles from home). We walked both ways, NO BUSSES!

Math and history were my favorite subjects. I never had a teacher that I didn’t like.

A few that stand out are: Mary Ann McGrew (English), Zumbrunnen (Math), Duncan (Wrestling coach). I also had a lady named Schlagel (who originally came from Otis.) that nobody seemed to care for. I thought she was alright; she just didn’t stand for any nonsense. We did generate some.

Northwest Kansas was mainly settled by homesteaders during the 1880’s, although there were people living in the area, mostly along streams, during the 1870’s. Our maternal grandparents, Jotty Quackenbush and Tallie DePue Hughes Quackenbush, moved by covered wagon from Worthington, Indiana to Mitchell county, KS when mom was about 2 years of age in 1886. They later, in 1905, moved to a location about 7 miles south of Tasco, KS. Tasco developed along the Union Pacific railroad branch line and has since become a ghost town. During my grade school years (1930’s) there were several businesses and around 100 people lived there. Tallie died in 1908 and Grandfather remarried and fathered a third family. He died in the early 1930’s. I have only a very vague memory of him as an “invalid with advanced colon cancer”.

Approximately 1886 Hoxie originated as a result of the Union Pacific Railroad branch line built from Salina to Colby then across South to Oakley (mostly following the South Solomon River). It connected with the Union Pacific main line at both ends. Being central to Sheridan County, Hoxie was selected as the county seat.

In 1936, with little to celebrate other than life, the country people elected to have an Independence Day celebration with a parade in Hoxie to depict early settlement to the

then current time. Since Mother came to KS by covered wagon (1886) as a child, from Worthington, Indiana, Dad put together a typical covered wagon. (shown in pictures taken by the local news paper, The Hoxie Sentinel). The picture shows Mom and Lucille in the wagon. Dad, Boxer (the dog), and I were beside the wagon. Lucille did not enjoy the 9 mile trip from home to Hoxie. However, I thought it was great fun!

We were voted, by acclaim, winners of the parade. The prize, however, was bragging rights only.

The school building burned in the winter of 1936 and classes were held in church basement for the remainder of the term.

Dad died in February 1937 and several of the following summers I lived with my brother, Wallace, on a ranch in Eastern Colorado where he worked. The first summer at age 11, I was given the job of riding fence.

When you “ride fence” you ride around the pasture to check for breaks in the fences about once each week or more often if there was reason. There were 13 sections of land in the pasture. 6 miles West, 2 miles South, 6 miles East and two back North to the point of origin. This totaled a good, long half day ride of approximately 16 miles. I felt very grown up doing it.

I was 12 years old and weighed about 70 lbs the second summer, 1938, and was still responsible for riding fence along with an additional one.

Wallace bought 9 mares with the idea of raising race-horses and/or cowponies. He had no stud. However, a neighbor who lived on the far side of the pasture (described above) had a good stud. When a mare would come into estrus (heat) I was given the job of taking her to the neighbor for breeding. I would be riding a good cow horse and leading one or more of the mares across the pasture. This trip was 8 miles (one way) and involved two gates to open and close. I thought it was great fun as well as a big responsibility.

In the modern world both of these jobs would be considered child abuse. No one would ever have thought so at that time. These would have been considered normal chores for a competent child.

Lucille and I attended school at Studley the 1937-38 term. Vera, my sister, taught the upper grades at the 2-room school (divided grades 1-4 and 5-8). A cousin, Stella, taught the lower 4 grades. We lived with Vera that term. During the summer of 1938, Mom moved to Hoxie where she cooked for a small restaurant.

Fishing Trip June 1939 (about age 13)

The picture showing 5 of us side by side: Arthur, Wallace, Spud, Robert, Mildred (holding Dave) bring to mind another story.

Prior to the summer of 1939, Wallace had moved from Eastern Colorado into the mountains about 90 miles West of Colorado Springs (around 100 miles SW of Denver). The actual location was 10 miles SW of Fairplay, CO. The land was owned by a group of medical doctors from Colorado Springs who used it as a recreational retreat during mostly summer weekends. There was about 750 acres enclosing three fishing streams. Wallace was given the use of the land and log cabin house in return for acting as caretaker.

I spent the summers (April – August) of 1939 and 1940 there. During June 1939 our eldest brother, Robert and his family, came for a visit. He liked to fish trout streams. They decided to make an overnight fishing/camping trip to a stream accessible only by foot or horseback. We chose horseback. Wallace still had the 9 mares cited in a previous story as well as others horses (saddle, draft and pack).

We headed out one morning with 5 saddle mounted and one pack horse, some well-broke and some not, but all useable with an experienced rider.

After about 3 miles down the trail, someone discovered we had forgotten some fishing tackle and bait including two 8-foot fly rods. I was riding the fastest horse and was therefore elected to return home to get it.

You need to understand the background of this horse named Snip. Snip was a full-blooded Thoroughbred race horse and could outrun any other animal in the remuda. She was useless for working cattle since she’d never been trained for roping, cutting or hazing. In addition, she was a little bit nuts. Her biggest problem was always encountered when mounting. When you put your left feet in the stirrup to mount you had best be ready because she would take off at full gallop. I had ridden her many times and knew her eccentricities well. Sometimes ending up behind the saddle rather than in it.

To complicate matters, between where I turned back and home there were two gates to open and close going each way. This caused 4 dismounts and remounts, plus another upon reaching the house. The mounting process described above happened 5 times in the going and return. Added to the problem the last three of the dismount/remount included two 8 foot fly-rods in one hand. I thought it was fun and was unduly proud of the success of the mission. By the time we caught up with the main group the old mare wasn’t in much of a rush.

We did catch our share of 6-8 inch trout and thoroughly enjoyed overnight camping.

August 1939 (Age 13, about 5’ tall and 85lbs)

This story requires some background information. Location is the same as the prior fishing story: Recreational Ranch SW of Fairplay, CO.

Altitude at the house was approximately 10,000 feet, so there was no farming or gardening since the growing season was only about 60 days (roughly the months of July and August). There was, however, native grass in the meadows which was put up and stacked for winter feed. This was done beginning around the middle of August using horses for all the process. Mowing, raking, then stacking usually worked the horses about 2-3 weeks each year. This period of time was about the only time the draft horses were actually used. The rest of the time they were turned loose to fend for their own feed, water and shelter. This produced some very “green broke” animals when they were rounded up to start haying.

When the cabin owners came for visits, they usually brought whole families including children from early childhood to late teens. They often wanted to ride, so we would rent them the gentler of the mares described in previous stories. It often became my job to catch saddle and otherwise get them ready and mounted.

It was the middle of haying and we had mowed several days with the draft team. Mowers (at that time) pulled hard and the team had (I thought) settled down to their job. On this particular day, I was raking with a sulky type rake (They were a very light pull compared with a mower.)

About mid-morning, these “dudes” as we called them, came to the house wanting mounts. Wallace wasn’t around, so I stopped raking, left the team to stand while I got the horses ready and mounted. Everything was going fine as I walked back toward my standing team. When I was about 20 feet from the team, the “dudes” came racing by on the three horses. This spooked the team and they started to go. I ran close enough to get one drive line, but was unable to stop them. Never was on the implement seat. The last I recall of the incident was holding one line. This would have been around 10:00am. My next conscious question was at about 2:00pm “What time is it? What happened?”

I had been “out” for around 3 hours. Wallace took me to see a doctor the following morning, but no lasting effects were noted.

We lived in a rented 3-room house with “Path” for $10 a month. (In the early times, houses referred to as a bedroom and a “bath” or bedroom number and a “path” to the outhouse. Dry humor) (Picture shown with Lucille standing in front taken around 1939 or 1940.) For the 1938-39 term, I was 13 years and about 85 lbs at Hoxie grade school. I worked odd jobs but not steady. Mostly farm work like shocking feed and picking corn. I was a year ahead of my age level since the 1^st grade teacher at Tasco, Miss Robinson, promoted me from 1^st to 3^rd the first term. This event, I have considered somewhat significant since I would eventually graduate high school at age 17. More important I would finish in the spring of 1943 instead of 1944. Both of which were war years.

Mom, Lucille, and I lived there for the 1938-39 school term with Willard sometimes there also. Willard worked for area farmers during most of his High School years. He was late in graduating since he had not gone immediately after elementary school. He

restarted in the 1935-36 term as a freshman, 2 years late. He rode a bicycle 9 miles from home to school each day. He graduated spring of 1940 and went into the Navy that fall.

I completed grade school with the 1938-39 term and went directly to High School. For the 1939-40 school year, Willard, Lucille and I were all in High School together.

Beginning with the summer of 1937, all my summers were spent with my brother, Wallace, in Colorado; until completion of the 1939-40 term (freshman year). As a Freshman I was in school for the full day. For the next 3 school years, I got them to give me study hall at the beginning and end of the school day so I could work for Uncle Walter at the dairy; therefore, I was only in school for about 5 hours a day. Uncle Walter paid $2.50 a week plus room and board. This is when I lived in the sod house 9 miles NE of Hoxie on Bow Creek. I believe this was the last occupied “soddy” in the county. We operated a diary, milked by hand, bottled and delivered to Hoxie on the doorstep at 10 cents a quart for whole raw milk. This was done both morning and evening delivery. I made morning delivery before school and evening delivery after milking and bottling. This process made for long days (i.e. short nights).

For reasons I do not remember, Uncle Walter stopped dairy operation in the fall of 1942. I then took and identical job with another dairy (with milking machine) located 1 mile West of Hoxie. This one operated by a fellow named Guy Currier. Their former help went into the Army and I replaced him. I continued to work there until graduation in May of 1943.

Willard enlisted in the fall of 1940. Mom thought going into the military was a pretty good deal. I had the idea that they were going to get done with the war before I had the chance to go.

During my High School senior term the Navy developed a program whereby High School graduates, who qualified, could enlist and continue with college at Navy expense. The idea was to produce college educated officers in about 2 ½ years.

We were given a battery of tests during the spring semester of 1943 to determine academic qualifications. I (and 3 others from western Kansas) received notification of passing the written test and a ticket to Kansas City for physicals. The four of us went for our physicals immediately after completion of the spring semester. Of the four, two (including me) enlisted on May 12. We all missed our High School Graduation exercises at the recruiting station.

I found a home in the Navy. They gave me a place to stay, fed me, and gave me a little bit of money once in a while and all I had to do was what they told me.

I received orders to report to the Illinois Institute of Technology, in South Chicago, on 1 July 1943. Although I learned considerable, for several reasons, I was not ready for the academic rigors of and engineering program. I survived there for 2 semesters, approximately 8 months, and was separated from the program to the regular Navy in

early February 1944. This terminated formal school and along with several others, under similar circumstances, went to the Naval Training Center, Great Lakes, IL for boot camp. The NTC was and still is located about 20 miles North of Chicago.

Boot camp was not difficult at all. Solid discipline at the beginning and then they ease up later. They try to find out if you are gong to be able to handle stressful situations.

While in “boot camp” batteries of tests were given to determine placement. I requested and was assigned Aviation Radio Operator School located at Naval Air Technical Training Center in Memphis, TN. Before “boot camp” I had never known anyone who was unable to read and/or write and was under the assumption that everyone could do so.

About ½ (50 men or so) of our boot company was recruited from Spartanburg, SC and came from the Smoky Mountains around there. Most were barely literate but were not stupid. We were seated alphabetically for the test battery mentioned above and I was seated next to a man named Leonard Franklin Moore. He could get his name on the paper by a combination of longhand and printing, but could go no further with the test. Subsequent to that I helped several of them with letters to and from friends and family. After boot camp, they were sent to classes to enable them to write home. They ended up as amphibian assault troops.

We completed the radio school in 20 weeks (around Oct. 1). We then went to the gunner school (about 8 weeks). Then we went to operational training with pilot, radioman and gunner as a 3-man crew. This program was completed in February 1945. We were then sent to NAS (Naval Air Stations) North Island, San Diego, CA to await squadron formation.

Transfer from Operational Training at Miami, FL to NAS North Island, San Diego, CA

Upon Completion of operational training in Florida, we were given leave in transfer to report to San Diego about 2 weeks later. The trip en-route is worth noting here. I caught a Navy air transport flight from Miami to NAS, Olathe, KS. They were transporting an aircraft engine to Olathe. Glad that it was well tied down since we flew through a wild thunderstorm en-route. I then rode the train home from KC.

After leave and travel time were nearly over, I went back to KC, and boarded the Santa Fe troop train for San Diego. These trains were basically cattle or grain cars with bunks built into them. The trip consumed 3 days and 4 nights. They pulled no dining car but occasionally stopped at a “Fred Harvey House” where a meal would be waiting on tables. Usually cold and not very appetizing.

That train traveled about 35 mph when moving, but would stop for hours on sidings to wait for other trains to pass by. We did finally arrive at our destination to check in on time.

Our squadron was formed at NAS Sand Point, in Seattle, WA about the 1^st of April 1945 with 12 F6F fighters and 12 TBM Torpedo planes. We then began a series of training at 3 Naval Air Stations in Washington and Oregon. By August 1945, we had completed our syllabus with bombing, torpedo, and gunnery and were ready to go aboard ship for carrier landings. At this time the 2 Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombs were dropped and the Japanese surrendered. All squadron activities were terminated; this would have been completed by mid-September. Personnel were released (discharged) or sent to other permanent bases to await discharge. I ended up in a re-training unit at Fairagut, Idaho until discharged 12 Jan 1946 and returned to Hoxie with no idea what to do.

The Trip Home

The trip home that January is worthy of description since it was somewhat eventful. With my savings and discharge pay I purchased a 1936 Ford car and headed home. The trip began in downtown Seattle and was basically routine and uneventful until I reached Idaho. One needs to understand that many consumer products were not readily available, such as anti-freeze. At that time alcohol was used as anti-freeze, not readily available and boiled out (disappeared at 185 degrees F). This meant that you often had to add water or more anti-freeze. Usually it was water because alcohol was hard to find. My car was, as a result, water cooled.

Upon leaving Boise headed for Salt Lake City, one immediately starts climbing and in January it gets colder. This is the start of problems. With pure water in the radiator, the core will freeze and stop circulation around zero degrees air temperature. Which it did. The symptoms are obvious: Overheated engine and lots of steam. The solution is to pour in more coolant and cover the radiator. This was done successfully. I then continued with an overnight stop at a Twin Falls, Idaho tourist cabin (No motels then.)

The next morning, troubles began again. After starting the car, it ran until the carburetor was empty and then died. Upon removal of the fuel line from the pump, I found the pump full of ice. In addition, the line from tank to pump was also solid ice. This probably resulted from condensation in the fuel tank. In and around the Seattle area, where the car originated, it is very humid in winter and gas caps did not seal very well. In any case, the pump had to be removed, along with the gas lines, taken into the cabin and thawed. This completed, I went on toward Salt Lake and I stopped for lunch at a roadside restaurant 50 miles South of Twin Falls where more troubles occurred!

When I finished lunch and went back to resume the trip, the starter locked. This was a common occurrence with engines in that vintage. The usual solution is to put the thing in gear and rock the car back and forth. This didn’t work. Plan B is crawl under the vehicle and unbolt the starter and put it back on. This did work and I went on South down the road to Salt Lake; where I would turn East on Highway 40 toward Denver.

Things were uneventful until Vernal, Utah (near the Colorado line) where I stopped to refuel. There I encountered a fellow sitting on a 5 gallon gas can. He states that he had

run out of gas down the road toward Denver and wanted a ride back to his car. I took him to his vehicle. One needs to understand this person was not mechanically literate.

It is the middle of the night, weather is clear but sub-zero and he is 15 or more miles from any help with virtually no traffic. I saw no winter clothing in the vehicle for either the driver or his companion.

I stopped him from pouring all the fuel into the tank and told him to save some to prime the carburetor. He had no idea what I was talking about (i.e. pour a little fuel in the carburetor to make it easier to start). We primed it and it ran until the prime was gone and died. We repeated the process with the same result.

His vehicle was similar to mine (His was a 1937 Ford 60, mine a 1936. They had different body styles, but similar engines.). Those years and models were notorious for very poor performing fuel pumps, so I always carried a spare, the pumps were identical. We put my spare on his engine and it worked. The last I saw, he was headed down the road west and I kept going east toward Denver.

Things went along OK for about 100 miles until I passed the summit of Berthoud Pass (about 50 miles West of Denver). At a point a few hundred yards down the East side of Berthoud Pass a front wheel dropped into a chuck hole in the snow and the front spring broke, dropping the frame onto the axle. Those Ford models had single springs front and back mounted crosswise. There was no choice but drive on down the East side of the mountain, bouncing along the hairpin curved road at 20mph or less.

Fortunately, my brother, Wallace, lived in Denver and I thought I knew where (East of Denver in Aurora). I drove through Denver to Aurora only to discover from friends that he had moved to Arvada located on the far West side. So I drove back through Denver (broken spring bouncing). I located his place next to an auto salvage yard and got a used spring. Wallace and I completed installing the spring and visited a few days then continued on to see Mom in Hoxie. I arrived in Hoxie in the late evening, still January and still cold.

After an overnight rest I went out to start the car and the engine wouldn’t move. Upon removal of one head (V8) discovered ice in the #2 cylinder. When it froze running back in Idaho there developed a slight leak in one head gasket. I thawed the thing out, put on a new gasket, and then it ran okay. Except for a few more fuel pump troubles, I never had more troubles while I owned the 1936 Ford.

I stayed around home for a couple of weeks, but in midwinter there weren’t any jobs available, so I decided to visit my brothers, Robert and Julius, in the Black Hills. I stayed there about a month working at the sawmill and could have remained permanently as they needed help. However, I really liked what I had experienced in the Navy and decided to go back in even with a reduction in rating. I went to the Omaha, NE recruiting office and re-enlisted.

Serious Start of Naval Career:

My re-enlistment was with the agreement that I would go to aviation electronics school to change from Radio-Operator to Aviation Electronics Technician. After a short waiting period, I was ordered to NTC, Great Lakes, IL where the beginning technician school was located. Same place I had taken boot training, three years before.

The technician program was about 1 year in length, divided into two segments (primary and secondary schools). Primary school was 26 weeks with basic electronics, in depth, and secondary school about 30 weeks. Primary was located at NTC, Great Lakes while secondary for aviation was located at NATTC (Naval Air Technical Training Center), Corpus Christi, TX. I completed primary school in September 1946 then went on to secondary, covering equipment used at the time in aviation (Naval) radio, radar and navigation electronics equipment.

While at NATTC, Corpus Christi, a friend, Billy Wilson, and I shared the purchase price for a used motorcycle. (BIG MISTAKE) (i.e. 20-20 hind sight) We used it to go on weekend liberty in and around the area. “Liberty” is the Navy word for time off to leave the ship-or-base for R&R. Mostly we went to Houston, about 120 miles North. On our third weekend trip there, were on our way back to Corpus; at about sundown on a Sunday evening in November. We were headed South about 10 miles South of Houston, meeting a line of cars when one from the middle of the lineup made a slow left turn across our lane. My friend was driving the cycle with me seated behind. There was one of three choices: hit the side of the vehicle crossing our lane, go head on into oncoming traffic, or go to the ditch and hit an abutment in the crossroad. We hit the “lane-crossing vehicle” about middle of the rear door (4-door car). My friend and I both sustained the same injury; fractured right femur about the center of the bone.

Fortunately there was a Naval hospital in Houston where we were taken for treatment. My friend required surgery with a steel plate fastened to the bone and a long convalescing period. The result was a bad limp and he not return to duty. My treatment was simpler, much shorter, and was able to return to duty in about 5 months.

Treatment to my injury was by traction. Traction meant to stretch the leg out straight by use of weights. They drilled through the femur at the knee joint, left the drill in as a pin, with about 2 inches protruding on both sides of the leg. Then a long clevis was attached to the pin both sides of the knee. This clevis was then attached to (heavy) weights by rope and pulley with the weight hanging over the foot end of the bunk. The leg was held immobile and elevated by an open-ended cradle-sling made of very heavy carpet like material which surrounded 2/3 of the leg (open top) from knee to thigh. This process was used to stretch muscles and ligaments and straighten the bones (end to end set in place).

The procedure was somewhat painful during the early 2-3 weeks “stretch and straighten” phase, with 25# - 40# constant pull after straightening and bone ends in place, then with a short bone knitting process weights were gradually reduced during about another 8 weeks. The right leg ended up ½” longer than before, and there was some loss of muscle

from disuse but I was diagnosed ready to go back to duty in April, about 5 months after the accident in November.

When ordered back to duty at NATTC, Corpus I re-started technician secondary school about 1 May 1947. I completed this training almost concurrent with a move of the school from Corpus to NATTC Memphis, TN. I was retained as an instructor upon completion and was transferred to Memphis along with the school. Taught navigation electronics equipment for navigation and altimeter.

Several Naval men stand out in my memory: In my original squadron, the pilot was from Chicago with a last name of Groell and the gunner was from St. Louis named Osie Johnson. I attended most of the Naval training schools with Don Merritt.

In the Navy, we played volleyball at a time when very few played. We were one of the few teams who played in the 1950’s. At the time, the YMCA was the only place teaching and playing volleyball.

My Naval career took me many places outside the continental USA, including: Philippines, Hong Kong, Okinawa, Japan (Kobe, Tokyo, Yokusha). We always went through Hawaii going to and returning from the Western Pacific.

Meeting, Courtship & Marriage

In Houston, Mom was part of a sorority, membership of which was young single women. Their group purpose was never made known to me. Around Christmas of 1946 several members, mom included, visited the orthopedic ward where I was still in traction; they had received permission to hold an ice cream and cake party on the ward. None of the patients on the ward were really sick; some only in pain. I had some conversation with most of the women but somehow the interchange between mom and myself seemed most significant. I made no outward overture toward any of them, and thought little or nothing about it after the party.

About a month later, during January 1947 traction was removed and I became ambulatory with crutches or crutch and cane, no weight bearing on the right leg permitted or wanted. Any patient “up and about” was given, mostly insignificant, jobs around the hospital based on ability and skills physical and/or mental. I suspect this was done primarily to help pass convalescent time; also patients were not allowed “liberty” unless they worked at something. By luck and the fact that I could type, I was given responsibility of a card file on hospital patients. The file contained pertinent locater information on all patients. The reason for the job and file was to give good communication between patients and “outside” family and/or friends. Part of the job was to update for those on board and to make new cards for incoming patients. When folks called in I would log the call and refer (transfer, if possible) the call to whichever ward applied. This background information means that I ended up with a reasonable meaningful job as well as access to a telephone with an outside line.

Big surprise! Two weeks after going on the job mom called asking for me! I couldn’t immediately recall her name, but, after a few conversation exchanges I remembered who she was but still no name came to mind. With Doctor approval, I could have “liberty,” so we made a date to meet downtown. From that point on we dated most weekends until my transfer back to duty at Corpus Christi later in the spring. Our dates usually meant that we would meet at a pre-arranged location downtown since that was where mom worked as a stenographer. Transportation always meant “city bus” since neither of us had access to a private vehicle. I might add, at this point, that mom was the first and only woman to show more than a slight passing interest. If you were to ask she may or may not remember our first meeting or subsequent call. I am sure she will deny the call since, at that time, it simply wasn’t done.

After returning to duty at NATTC, Corpus Christi, and re-entry to secondary school we were still able to meet for dates. It was, however, complicated by the fact that there was about a 3 hour one-way bus or train ride involved. Usually it would be me going to Houston on Friday evening and return to base on Sunday evening. On one particularly memorable occasion during the summer mom came from Houston to Corpus.

There was a long weekend, probably 4^th of July, during the summer; and mom elected to come to Corpus Christi. She got a room for the weekend along the beach in a house which amounted to the modern B&B “not so named at the time”. She wanted to get a tan, not realizing that you don’t do it in 2-3 days time. We met at the beach near her “B&B” with picnic supplies.

Mom had no idea what sea breeze air, midday sun and wind would do to skin which had never been exposed. After around ½ hour of exposure, I began telling her she should cover up, but she was not amenable to that. Modern sunscreen ointment was unknown and so she stayed out about 3 hours the first day. She then began to feel some burn pain, obviously that was much too late. It was the worst sunburn I have ever seen before or since. Lots of blistering and every exposed bit of skin was beet red. This happened on the first day; Saturday, of the 3-day weekend. Then we spent the remaining two days nursing the burning and blistered skin with ice packs, burn ointment, and aspirin for the pain. Mom went back to Houston by train Monday evening but I suspect she missed a day or two of work.

The only other problem I recall was related to punctuality. Mom was not very good at estimating how long it would take, after work, to get ready and make it to our meeting place; the idea of being early or picking a later schedule never occurred to her. I often ended up standing around for what seemed like a very long time. She never failed to show up, however late. I recall that one time I said to her “next time you are ½ hour late, I won’t be here.” That helped some but it helped more that we would pick more realistic meeting times and places.

We decided shortly after the sunburn episode that we would marry but did not set a date. Later in early fall I took the required (by the church) instructions with our Navy chaplain at Corpus and gave mom her ring. We sent the instruction confirmation to mom’s home

parish in Mansfield asking for return verification of receipt and we also asked that we be informed if any more needed to be done to satisfy church requirements. We received no reply. I also made sure mom understood that I intended, as always, to continue with a Navy career.

During September the Navy elected to close NATTC, Corpus and move all related activities to NATTC, Memphis. This move obviously terminated our dating. At or around the same time I completed the school and received orders to remain with the program as instructor and teach in the same school I had finished.

The school closed for about 2 ½ weeks for Christmas/New Years Holidays, so we decided to marry during that time. I bought another car (1937 Ford) and drove from Memphis to Houston to pick mom up then back through Memphis to Mansfield. The baggage included to my amazement and actual count 27 hats in many and assorted boxes. Incidentally en-route I discovered the 27 hats were “in part” responsible for a $150 charge bill mom had acquired at the Foley Brothers store where she worked. This was a bit of a shock for a young sailor making about $100 a month. We had no trouble with the car en-route but the heater never worked well. We arrived in Mansfield well before Christmas.

The whole family welcomed us as we arrived. I really had no idea about mom’s family as I had met none of them before we drove in. Everyone was living at home except Phil, of whom I had no knowledge until much later. Joe, almost my age, had recently returned from the Navy, and took me in hand for indoctrination. I sure needed it. All other siblings were in school, either elementary or high school. The biggest surprise to came at meal time.

I didn’t dislike any of the food but had never, “ever” heard of anyone eating “raw” meat. Coming from the “plains of Kansas background” with no refrigeration, meat was cooked and eaten or somehow preserved, smoked, or canned immediately after butchering.

The day after arrival, we made and held an appointment with Msg. Goebel, the parish priest. He informed us at that point that we needed Bishop approval that might take a long time. When I came out of shock, I referred him to our previous letter to him which requested that we be informed if anything besides “instruction” completion was necessary, and said to him “we will marry while here on leave for the holidays, approval or not.”

We were married on 27 December 1947 and went to a hotel in Cleveland for a 3-night 2-day honeymoon; then returned to Mansfield for a day or so before I had to leave; back to base alone. No arrangements had been made ahead of time for housing so mom stayed home for a few weeks. Housing, of any kind was almost impossible; especially for folks starting at sub-zero then living from pay to pay, hopefully staying even. Mary’s folks had given us $150 wedding gift for which we were more than grateful.

Mary met my mother the Christmas after Glenn was born. My mother was diagnosed with colon cancer and had an operation in Hays, KS that was unsuccessful. She knew that she was almost out of time. After she recovered from the operation, she traveled to see all her children.

On transfer, we would go through Hoxie and visit any family in the area. Mary met my South Dakota family after we moved to Hoisington. My sister, Rosa, was living in mid-Tennessee and may have been Mary’s first introduction to my family around 1948. The first auction Mary attended was while visiting my sister, Vera (near Smith Center on the Nebraska line).

When Mary was expecting Ann, she had one contraction at home. We got in the pickup and headed for the hospital. At the start of our 12 mile trip to the hospital, Mary was sitting on the seat. However, after the next contraction, she kneeled on the floorboard facing the seat.

I reached down and could feel Ann’s head coming out. Ann was born only 5 miles into the trip to the hospital. She cried when she hit the floor. We were close to a farm and I ran in and called the hospital. The staff was waiting for us when we got to the hospital. It was somewhat scary for both of us.

Navy Retirement – June 1964

Navy retirement time, with 21 years, came around 1 June 1964 coincident with federal law which funded and began extensive development of Area Vocational Technical Schools and Junior Community Colleges. These schools produced big demands for skilled technicians of all fields to begin new careers teaching their specialty. Openings for work as an instructor developed in virtually all skilled trades and almost any location desired. These jobs were available at high schools and newly developed A.V.T.S. (Area Vocational-Technical Schools) and Junior Colleges.

Much of the Naval career had been spent teaching Aviation Electronics at NATTC Memphis and in the last tour immediately before retirement, I attended night school at Memphis State University (MSU) preparing credentials for teaching. Most instructing jobs in the Vocational-Technical fields did not require a degree and I had attained college credits equal to about ½ the requirement for a BS degree.

During early tours of instructor duty, I worked part-time, in off-duty hours, for TV service shops in Memphis; then eventually opened a shop in Bartlett where we lived.

Immediately prior to the June 1 retirement, a resume was developed and sent to several schools. Responses were received with invitation to apply. Many openings seemed to be available. The combined background of Naval Technical training, instructor duty and work experience as well as college course work well matched qualifications of interest to the various Vocational-Technical programs. I accepted appointment as instructor in “TV

Service” offered by Forsyth Technical Institute at Winston-Salem, NC. Subsequently, we moved there and taught approximately 3 years.

In the winter of 1967 I received information that the University of Tennessee (Knoxville) College of Education was planning an experimental study to determine how/and if a university and industry could cooperate to help skilled technicians become teachers in their specialty. Inquiry into the program indicated that it was well-suited to my need for completion of a BS degree. Further checking indicated that the class and lab work would be done with Union Carbide Corporation (the operator of Oak Ridge Laboratory – one of the participants in the Manhattan Project, developing the Atomic Bomb).

I was accepted into the program along with approximately 15 others. This required a 9-month period of study for which I requested and received a leave of absence w/o pay for the 67-68 academic term. The request was granted and I returned to Forsythe Tech for teaching summer 1968. I lacked, at this point, only one course for completion of the BS program. The UTK College of Education awarded many hours credit for Navy technical schools and allowed further credits by testing in the Electronic field. In all I had accumulated far in excess of the credit hours for graduation but one undergraduate course remained; “English Lit”, which was taken by correspondence.

Four members of the study group were recommended and invited to continue a master’s program; myself included. At that point, I resigned my position at FTI and we moved the family to Knoxville for their 1 year Master’s program in technical education. This program was completed at the end of summer session 1969.

One reason for wanting to return to Kansas was the culture of the 1960’s: sex, drugs and rock-n-roll. This was the start of the modern generation and I was not ready for it. Glenn ran away from home 3 or 4 times. We had 2 children in high school and I felt a more rural setting would have a moderating influence.

1968-69 Job Hunt

During the 68-69 academic year, agents from venders providing equipment, support components and documentation used for teaching in technology fields visited the UTK College of Education.

Philco had been in the technical electronics training equipment business several years. This representative was one of the visitors and I had been acquainted with him from previous visits he had made to NATTC Memphis prior to my retirement. He provided me with three probable openings in Kansas: BCCC (Great Bend), Goodland AVTS, and Liberal AVTS. These openings were to be filled for the 69-70 academic year.

I communicated with both BCCC and the Goodland AVTS and received application to apply at BCCC. The application was submitted and followed by request for an interview.

Ann and I made the trip from Knoxville to Great Bend for the interview during spring break 1969. The job was offered and accepted with the reservation that I wanted to look at Goodland AVTS also before commitment. The program at Goodland was basically telephone technology which was not my field of expertise. I, therefore, made final acceptance to Barton County, and then moved here, rented a house in Hoisington to have a place to move into, reporting to BCCC mid-August 1969.

The Farm

As a child and through high school, my main interest was cattle, with the idea for a future in the beef cattle business. Another primary interest was for financial security having lived through the depression and drought period nothing cumulated. War came and everyone my age group went onto one of the military services. End of the war offered the chance to return home but there were no jobs available and I had still cumulated nothing. Since I really like Navy life, the decision was made to stay. The idea that I would be able to retire at age 37 was attractive. (I entered at age 17.)

The Naval electronics provided outstanding training, more education and rapid advancement. When retirement came it did not provide financial security but did produce a support buffer. Subsequent completion of education and opening of Technical training schools gave possibilities for selecting permanent location. This resulted in movement to Barton County for work and the possibility to fulfill the original childhood interest in cattle business. This idea was somewhat delayed (4 yrs.) in order to locate suitable land which we could buy. Rental in town was necessary while we accumulated funds and located a farm within commuting distance of BCCC. Return to Barton County also allowed for return to my native area where some family was still around.

Purchase of the farm insured that we would probably not move again after all the moves in the military. It also caused a great deal of work to make changes needed for conversion to a cattle operation. All “part-time” available was spent in this conversion. Primarily this involved replanting cultivated ground to grass and building fences. The plan “at that point” was to gradually grow into a cattle operation. Hindsight indicates this was successful “long term” even with some mistakes along the way. This required 7 years to complete 1974 to 1981.

There was a 4-year period renting in Hoisington while looking for land. This resulted in summers available for other things. The first summer 1970, I went out with a harvest crew with a custom cutter from Great Bend. Summer of 1971 was spent taking course work at Pittsburg State for recertification as a Vo-Tech instructor. Three summers (1972-74 inclusive) I did part-time service work (TV) for a local store.

We located and bought suitable land during the fall of 1974, legal description “14-17-14” and moved during December. Since the ground had been planted to wheat in the fall of 1974, we did not get possession of cultivated ground until summer (July) 1975. This summer was spent building fence. This continued for the next 4 years since there were no perimeter fences worthy of the name. We also entered into a “Great Plains” contract

with USDA to return most of the land to grass: this required 4 years to compete 1977 to 1981.

During the summer of 1975 and 1976, I drove a team (weekends only) for an entertainment business, “Wagons Ho”, headquartered in Quinter, KS. They operated a wagon train trip from “Castle Rock” West to Highway 23 along the “Smoky Hill” river. This was very satisfying and enjoyable for me since I believed in the operation. It provided an experience for a recreation weekend for folks to live the past in 2 days.

Housing

I have occasionally mentioned that I have lived in most every kind of dwelling one could find, notably: a cave, soddy, wood frame and log.

My first home, built by dad was a dugout into an earth bunk with a shed roof and concrete walls. The location was 1 ½ miles South of Tasco, KS (now a ghost town). The family lived there until 1937, when dad died of “dust” pneumonia. The 10 siblings never all lived there at the same time, the elder brothers left around the time I was born. After dad’s death, the remainder of the family was scattered either among kinfolk or employers. Most houses were wood frame but one was a “soddy”. I think the last one occupied in Sheridan county. When I stayed with Wallace, we lived in a 3-room log cabin in the Colorado mountains.

Obviously, the Navy supplied the quarters, barracks mainly, during early part of the career. However, after marriage housing in the military, at that time, became one of the biggest problems; and it was further compounded by many moves.

When we were married in 1947 there was virtually no housing on any Naval Air Base or aviation training center. The small amount of housing around NATTC, Memphis was quickly taken up by the influx of people from the move of NATTC, Corpus to NATTC, Memphis.

When I returned to Memphis after our marriage, I began looking for a place to live within our income. The only thing I could find was to share a house with a Memphis family with kitchen privileges. They were good people, but it was 27 miles from the base across Memphis to the far side of town when another 15 miles North; not a good “setup” for a military commuter. “You simply never want to be late for morning muster!” After about 2-3 months of “share the house” living, we located a 1 room apartment over a garage in the same neighborhood, much better for privacy but no better for commuting. Rent in each of the above was around $50 per month (about ½ my take-home pay). When mom went to work “downtown” it was ½ hour commute by city bus and still 27 miles for me to base.

After around 6-8 months we accumulated enough for a down payment of $350 (and $47.50 a month, with a gross total price of $7500), on a G.I. Bill “cracker box” located on

the far North side of Memphis and cut the commute to base by about ½ distance and time.

One of the saddest days of my life was when I looked inside that house and saw what we had committed $7500 for. You could have built that house for $2000 and they probably did. However, at the time, you couldn’t find a place to rent that was decent. We slept on the floor for a while. I don’t even think we a had a table, but we did have a fridge and stove. We lived there for the remainder of that “tour of duty”. Also Pat Rahall stayed with us for the fall 1948 semester at Memphis State University.

We received a transfer to San Diego in early 1949; the house rented out to a “Memphis Chicks” baseball player, having decided to keep the house expecting to return to Memphis for instructor duty when sea duty was completed. When we got transferred back to Memphis, to get the house back in shape required a lot of elbow grease and paint.

There was no on-base housing in San Diego Naval Air Station where we were located. The duty station was FAETUPAC (acronym for Fleet Airborne Electronics Training Unit Pacific Fleet) I ended up teaching the same type equipment that I had been instructing at NATTC, Memphis. There we found housing at Brown Field, an outlying airfield controlled by the Navy. The “house” was ½ a Quonset Hut finished on the inside for living quarters. The Quonset Hut was half round steel shell type building which was developed for quick storage space during WW II. After only about a year we transferred back to Memphis for instructor duty and returned to the house on “Duke Road” (the G.I. cracker box) which we later traded as down payment on the older house in Bartlett, higher payments but better, bigger house with a yard and much closer to work. We gave between $11,000 and $12,000 for this house. Glenn was born while we were in the house on Duke Road and Ann was born 13 months later when we were in the one in Bartlett.

1952 was time to return to “sea duty” so the transfer came to duty with VP40, a seaplane patrol squadron, home based at NAS, North Island, San Diego. Mom did not immediately go along since we were scheduled to deploy to the Philippines soon after I arrived. After a tour of about 9 months, the squadron returned to San Diego. I then took leave to move the family there. We rented a house in San Diego, but I can’t recall exactly where it was located. The squadron deployed again, same place as before for a 6 month tour in 1953 (this after a training period with mostly new personnel). Mom, Glenn and Ann remained in San Diego for this short “sea tour”. Our 3^rd house was near Escondido, CA on San Pasqual Road for $13,000. When I returned from the oversea tour in 1954, we received orders back to Instructor duty at Memphis. A neighbor looked after our house during the above sea duty time while it was rented out.

We lived in the Bartlett house for the 2-year “shore” duty tour there until 1956 when I was again sent back to sea duty; this time with a fighter Squadron VF 142 using the “Crusader” F8U Aircraft. The squadron operated out of Miramar, NAS located North of San Diego. Again, no housing close. We bought a house near Escondido, CA about 20 miles North of Miramar. We lived there for approximately a year while going through a training period then sold it when our first sea tour came. This tour was around Japan and

China aboard the USS Oriskany Aircraft Carrier. When we returned from WESPAC (acronym for Western Pacific), Mom, Glenn, and Ann returned from Mansfield to Escondido where we rented a ½ a duplex for the remainder of my time with VF142.

There was a second tour to Far East with the squadron aboard the USS Ranger, a bigger ship with much more comfortable operating space and quarters. This tour came after another training period with newer and faster F8U-2 aircraft. This tour ended in 1960.

Early in 1960 orders came again to NATTC, Memphis for instructor duty and we returned to the house in Bartlett where we lived until retirement in June 1964.

Our 4^th house with 7 acres was in Kernersville, NC purchased for $25,000.

The farm in rural Hoisington, KS was purchased in November 1974 for $52,000 after renting in Hoisington for over 4 years.

We sold all but our first home on Contract-to-Deed.