Chapter Nine: Pearl reflects on the years 1911-1912 and life in her new Oklahoma community.

The year 1911, left me with many “firsts” in my memories:  I recall how strange Papa’s shirt looked without his collar buttoned onto it.  Perhaps, to this point, he had worn only shirts with attached collars.  These collarless shirts were equipped with separate collars which were starched and ironed very stiff.  The collar was buttoned on the shirt collar band at the back and the two thicknesses of the stiff collar plus the two buttonholes in the shirt front required a strange looking button with a flat side to fit next to the neck with the other mound like side pushed through all of the thicknesses of buttonholes.   Whew!  Many an appointment was made late on the gentleman’s part if he happened to drop, or otherwise lose, his collar button!  But the gentleman’s trouble is not over; at least Papa’s was not.  The four-in-hand tie must be tied around the collar before it is turned down and smoothly fitted around the neck.  Both husbands and wives were thankful when soft shirt collars came into vogue!

  I lost my first teeth in 1911.  My two lower front teeth had become loose and Papa had helped them out with his big thumb and forefinger, but something happened to break the enamel on my right upper front tooth causing a small hole to appear right in the center of that tooth.  It must have been a source or irritation to me, as I was always conscious of the hole being there.  I discovered or maybe someone else suggested, that I could put a pin through the tooth, so I went around poking the pin through the tooth for my amusement and to my father’s dismay.  Finally, he decided, as it wasn’t loose yet, to take me to see a doctor and have it extracted.  A brush arbor revival meeting was in progress at Hess, our small town three miles away.  Papa decided to attend the meeting one morning, taking me along.  Grandma and Brother were away, but that was really no reason for my going; he probably had the plan in mind to see the “Doc” at the meeting if not in his office. I don’t recall the doctor’s name that practiced out of Hess, Oklahoma, who made house calls, delivered the babies in the community and always had a little black bag close at hand.  Papa spied “Doc” as we sat in the preaching services that morning and as soon as they closed, we made our way to the west edge of the arbor where we found the doctor standing, talking with someone.  Papa soon got a chance to speak to him, asking his advice on the condition of my tooth.  The doctor looked at it, pressed his fingers upon it and recommended that it be taken out. 

He didn’t even say, come over to my office – Papa didn’t wait for that, I suppose – he just asked “Doc” if he had his “pullikens” (colloquial) with him.  “Doc” nodded, pointing to his bag.  Extraction of a tooth was referred to as “pulling” it, hence the colloquial expression.  So there, under the brush arbor at the site of a revival service, I lost my front tooth with the hole in it!  I don’t remember an excess of bleeding – Papa probably took care of that with his pocket handkerchief – and we were all on our ways!  I don’t know whether I kept the tooth or not.  I should think I would have kept it as a keepsake!  A souvenir?

    We also attended church services at the school house, South Greer, where I began my formal schooling in early 1912.  I remember our attending on Sunday mornings, and on two separate occasions Papa and I were invited home with members of the church.  I don’t remember the family’s name who lived in the half dugout but Papa warned me as we drove west of the school house some one to one and one-half miles, that the home was partly underground.  I had never seen a home such as that; consequently on going down the steps I was quite apprehensive as to what we would encounter.  Surprisingly enough, it was a neat home where a father, a mother and three or four children resided.  In the dining area a table was set with a delicious meal, so I finally felt very secure about the visit in the home underground.

    On the other occasion, we were invited to the home of Ed and Myrtle Jones who lived about a mile east of the school.  They had no children, so after lunch, as Papa and Ed talked, Myrtle tried to entertain me by searching out discarded face powder boxes, bits of fragrant soap and other niceties, which really weren’t very entertaining to a six year old going on seven!  But she was trying to keep me happy as best she could.

  The high point of this Sunday, however, was the way in which I was dressed; moreover, both Papa and I were oblivious of the circumstance!  The dress was red dotted Swiss, with white dots, very sheer material.  Maggie and Laura had advised Papa that I had outgrown my dresses, so he brought home a length of material for them to make me a new dress.  It was very pretty, also, very sheer!  Papa, not being aware of the need of a slip, or under skirt as they were known in those days, put the dress on with clean panties, shoes and stocking, assuming I was correctly dressed.  I don’t know at what point Papa and I were made aware of his error in dressing his daughter, but I was so embarrassed that it remains with me to this day!  It seems that as we dropped by the Ware’s that afternoon on our way home, Maggie and Laura laughingly asked where my underskirt was?!  I was never to forget that faux-pas.

   Laura’s son visited a few days at Vernon, Texas with his granddad’s family.  One evening as I was spending the night with Laura, she said that we would sleep together in hers and George’s bed – he was eleven but in our crowded homes it was not uncommon for large boys to sleep with their mothers.  Laura said that I could sleep on George’s pillow, which smelled of hair tonic, very fragrant and manly smelling!  That fragrant, heavenly hair tonic remained in my memory for days and even weeks!  I believe there was another bed in Laura’s and George’s room, perhaps Uncle Jap’s bed, as that was Uncle Jap’s room.  I don’t remember seeing him often, but I know how he looked – tall, thin, wearing dark clothes, a straight brimmed black or brown hat, using a walking cane.  He must have spent some time with his youngest brother Denford at Vernon, in those years.

    In January, 1912, Vernon, Golden and I began school at South Greer School, about one and a quarter miles away.  Vernon had attended school at Pleasant Valley #255 in Tillman County, the area where they formerly lived, but this was my first school.  Our teacher was Mrs. Pole.  She was blind in one eye, which widely gazed at us at all times.  She may have suffered a facial stroke in that side of her face, also, as it appeared slightly disfigured.  Poor Mrs. Pole!  (Why can’t all elementary school teachers be young and pleasant?!)  Mrs. Pole had a daughter about my age whom all of the students said was spoiled.  She would have attained that title anywhere, however, as she was the “teacher’s kid”!

  I had a dislike for Mrs. Pole and her daughter, too. This was probably because I was expected to dislike her, by the other students. But I can’t really complain about my first teacher because she was very good to me.  At home to amuse myself, I would peruse our newspaper.  Papa read, so I wanted to read.  The newspaper was The Semi Weekly Farm News, published in Dallas, Texas.  The “Cousins Page” of particular interest to me, was a collection of short letters contributed by young children.  I would spell the words to Grandma while she, in turn, pronounced them for me.  It was a slow process, but it paid off for me.  I recall Grandma’s encouragement; this, however, to keep me busy, from asking her so many questions.  I likely progressed well in my writing, also, as I got Grandma’s and Pap’s letters from the Aunts and traced over the words in those years, too.

    So it was that on a cold, winter day, I came to Mrs. Pole’s classroom, sitting close around the heating stove with the other children, she gave me a book to read.  It was called The Primer.  As she asked me to read the first simple sentences of two words, then three or four, Mrs. Pole soon discovered I was farther advanced in my reading than a Primer.

I am not sure how rapidly I progressed, but when I had read through the Primer, I think the first day, Mrs. Pole provided me a First Reader.  I had very few obstacles in that class, also, so she didn’t hold me back.  I moved to the Second Reader within  a short period of time, now in the class with Vernon.  School was a broad new life that I entered into as the three of us, Golden, Vernon and me, walked to school together, eagerly engaged in the learning process as days and weeks went by.

   I remember that winter, Papa brought home a package of coffee – I don’t know the brand – but inside the package was a small, red cellophane bear.  It was encased in an envelope on which the instructions were written.  By laying out the small bear in the palm of the hand, it would turn somersaults, roll and unroll itself, doing all such tricks.  It would not perform just lying on the table, for instance, but only in the atmosphere of the warm, damp palm of the hand!  Very fascinating!

So ends some wonderful experiences of six and seven year old Pearl, which adult Pearl recalls with joy. She has family nearby. She has cousins her age that bring much enjoyment. We do not hear about Billy or Grandma very much. And Vinie is not discussed yet. That will come in the Summer of 1912. I will publish it very soon. RAN