Editor Note: Pearl is almost twelve years old at Christmas, 1916. They have just moved onto their own farm in November. Rita (pron. Right-uh) School has two teachers for eight grades; both are women which is unusual. Pearl makes many new friends including the Noel girls who live nearby. You will enjoy the many discoveries Pearl makes in this episode. RAN
It is difficult to visualize today, with all the advertising of toothpaste, mouth wash, breath fresheners, and such which are around, that no one in our family owned a tooth brush, much less used toothpaste nor mouth wash; oh, maybe salt water, sometimes. But this first spring in the new school brought a new experience into our household which would have a lasting effect upon us. Our school teacher, Miss Katherine Caldwell introduced to me, along with most of the students in our small school, tooth brushes and tooth paste. I had seen Colgate tooth paste advertised in magazines for some three or four years but had never actually seen it, as I recall. Miss Katherine had charts which she handed out to the entire school, on which to keep a record of the care of our teeth. This was a day-by-day activity which we marked on our charts which were placed on the wall in convenient reach of each of us.
We were to brush our teeth before breakfast each morning and brush after each meal. Certificates were awarded at the end of a given period to those who carried out these requirements religiously. As we didn’t own tooth brushes, Papa complied with the teacher’s request and brought home tooth brushes and tooth paste from the country store on the hill. Perhaps, Miss Katherine had alerted Harry De Ford to lay in a supply of tooth brushes and tooth paste as the surrounding community depended upon him for grocery staples and other supplies. I remember Papa bought me a pair of black shoes from there once; patent leather with cloth tape buttoned with five or six buttons. The storekeeper threw in a button hook, to boot! But to continue with the tooth brushing experience, I can still taste that Colgate flavor mixed with my morning egg as I ate breakfast! After some days, I dropped the morning brushing and attended only to brushing following each meal.
At some point in time, Mama began sewing “dust caps” which she wore religiously. It was after Arthur was born, probably when she experienced falling hair. To prevent fair from falling into food as she prepared and served it, she would tuck her hair up in her small dust cap. She won these around the house for the rest of her life. Later she found a new pattern that lay flat, making ironing easier. These caps were actually bonnets with buttons and buttonholes, which made for a neat fit when fastened together. These bonnets or dust caps became a trademark of Mama Betty. She would look strangely unfamiliar to us children when she dressed for town or for church as she left off the everyday cap and donned her hat for the occasion. We lived only a mile from the Rita schoolhouse, as I had said, so we walked there on Sunday mornings when weather permitted, if and when Sunday School and church were in session. In those days, these sessions were spasmodic in meeting. Papa was one of the organizers and energizers of such meetings and the people of the community seemed to cooperate in the endeavors.
We lived only a mile from Rita (“Right-uh”) school house, as I had said, so we walked there on Sunday mornings when weather permitted, if and when Sunday School and church were in session. In those days, these sessions were spasmodic in meeting. Papa was one of the organizers and energizers of such meetings and the people of the community seemed to cooperate in the endeavors. During the first three or four years there were religious meetings more often than not being conducted at the school. A Baptist Church was organized there once, as Mr. Bly Wolfe was an ordained Baptist deacon and Rev. Pendleton, who was the Associational missionary of Tillman County was on hand to do the preaching. After the Wolfes moved away and the support of the church depended primarily upon the Abner (“Ab”) Davidson family and the Smith family, plus our family support. Because these other two stalwart church families both lived in the Pleasant Valley School Community, located 3.5 miles east of our house, the decision was made to move the church to the Pleasant Valley schoolhouse.
The first year on the new homestead brought many sandstorms that winter and spring. I’m sure the soil was in need of moisture because every small shower or layer of snow was so welcome. It began to snow on a school day morning just as I was getting ready for school. Papa was so happy to see the large flakes drifting to the ground in the moderately cold temperature. But, Papa said we could not attend school; he recalled a sledding song which I never heard before; “Little Snowflakes Falling…soon we’ll take a ride!…”. As he sang he laughed, while I was fuming! I didn’t want to miss school! But the sandstorms were so furious at times, practically hiding the sun by early afternoon, the teachers would send us all home.
Without many friends close by as yet, I invented my own amusement when I found time on my hands on such long dreary afternoons, I don’t know where Billy would be, but probably with Papa out doing some activity such as repairing fences or plowing garden spots. But, Arthur, now going on three, was happy to play with me. We had not yet cut his hair, so I would comb it, parting it off, and braiding it in small braids, tie ribbons on, making him look much like a pretty little girl! I would then find an old outgrown dress of mine which I could “belt” up above his feet, then admire my handiwork! Mama cooperated with me in my fanciful play; Arthur must have been a sweet, agreeable baby to have endured this torture! Apparently, this game of mine was repeated several times that spring as long as the spring sandstorms lasted.
Gradually, we began to make neighborhood acquaintances. The Taylors, about one-half mile away were there when we first came. There were Dora and Minnie who attended school with us. Dora was older than I, but behind me in school. Minnie likewise was in a lower grade, but more out-going than Dora, who soon removed to Dallas, Texas, to make her home with her aunt, possibly her dead mother’s sister. We became better acquainted a couple of years later when she returned to our school. She was a beautiful, brown-eyed blond, a little on the heavy side, but very attractive. While Ora, her older sister, not in school anymore, and Minnie were of the more slender type, but lacked Dora’s attractiveness.
Editor’s note: The map below is to help the reader experience some of the geography that Pearl and family and friends lived with in this Cooper Creek and Rita School community in the 1916-20 era. The Thornton homestead is the black enclosed square (160 acres, a “quarter section”). It contains the gin, store and their home (the black dot) and the larger enclosed square area. The roads have dashed marks. Pearl and Billy went up by the gin to get to the road to cross the bridge west walking to Rita School. RAN
The widow Mandy Noel and her brood had moved to a house about one-half mile across the pastures from us. Our fields joined and we walked a beaten path between our homes once we became acquainted. We had been associated with them in school the first semester when they had lived one and one-half miles west of the schoolhouse. Viola was the oldest of the four children who lived with their widowed mother. The oldest brother, Frank, and his wife, Lola (Colyer) Noel lived across the road, and Austin, second-oldest, and his wife, Lillie (Colyer) Noel occupied the house with Mrs. Noel and the younger children. Viola was one year my senior, but we became fast friends and still recall precious memories of our youth seventy-odd years later! Lona was one year younger than me, and Lavada, two years younger than Lona. The youngest Noel child, David was more than a year younger than Billy, but they kept that beaten path quite warm as they roamed the creek and the hills together when they were not busy at school or at work.
An incident occurred that winter of 1916 on a cold, windy Sunday just as we had finished our noon meal. A knock came at the south door of the dining room. No window on the south side of the house. It was Minnie Taylor, all wrapped up in her Sunday best, and as she came in she was asking if I was going up to the Wolfe’s for dinner (noon). Of course, I said no, and asked why. She said we were all invited to come up for dinner that Sunday! As I had already eaten, I did not feel inclined to accept that unusual invitation, but Minnie persisted so earnestly, she swayed both Papa and me that I should go with her. So, glancing at Mama, who motioned to me to go ahead and get dressed, I got into my Sunday best, and we walked the chilly one mile to the Wolfe’s who lived close by the schoolhouse. We knocked at the front door and the oldest daughter admitted us, but to my surprise, no other schoolmates were there; one friend, maybe two of the younger children were around. It was so late, I supposed they had eaten, but unlike Mama (Betty), Mrs. Wolfe didn’t serve the noon meal on the twelve O’clock hour on cold Sundays. After about half an hour the Wolfes began frying sausage and preparing other foods. No roast beef with all the trimmings, as I had expected for the invited dinner. There was a couch in the dining room, and chairs, so the family assembled there.
Beatrice, some two years my senior, attempting to entertain Minnie and me, took us into the living room where the piano was. And while we watched, she proceeded to move the piano out a bit to give us a peep of what the younger children would get for Christmas, a few weeks away. About all I saw in the hurried peep were a couple of newly designed, up-to-date dolls for the younger girls. That was a surprise, but interesting experience, but as Mother Wolfe called “dinner”, back went the piano into its place and we followed Beatrice into the dining room. I sat on the couch while the rest ate, as I explained that we had already eaten at home.
The visit ended shortly after the meal, as I recall. An impressive visit, I admit, as I had not been in the home before. It was one of the better homes of the community, well-furnished with rugs, window curtains (hangings), and a piano. Landowners had settled there probably some ten to eleven years before. It was really a treat to glimpse the better, more settled life, but not for a moment did it take away the love for my humble home and the joys I experienced there which I hold dear in my memories. The one thing I recall which probably occurred the next spring as we were leaving school one Friday, Beatrice was hurrying the little sister on, as she said, “Hurry up! We’ve got to go and take music lessons!” I felt a tinge of envy, thinking, “Oh, if I could just have that opportunity!”
Soon Christmas of 1916 arrived and I found circumstances at school somewhat different from those at Valley View. We planned and rehearsed our Christmas Program and someone brought a huge Christmas tree and set it in place, but unlike the program back at Valley View, there was not the simple, all-school chorus that we had in the sixth grade (maybe they didn’t at Valley View this year, either!). But, we were growing up now! I don’t actually remember a single part of the program. Names were drawn in each class so that each person would find a gift on the tree on that eventful night.
I remember an event at home on the afternoon preceding the Christmas Tree and program, which taught me a valuable truth. I was just home from school and Mama was in the process of readying our clothes to wear to the program. She had set up the ironing board in the kitchen and was pressing my Christmas dress of 1915 that I wore to Valley View. I’m sure I was carried away with school program practice, unnecessarily elated, and feeling very grown-up. So I asked Mama rather indignantly, “Am I going to wear that old thing?” She looked at me in surprise and answered, “Yes, you have nothing else to wear.” Then she added, “It’s not ‘an old thing’; it’s still a good dress.” That really sat me down! I never called a dress of mine an old thing after that.
I hated to be absent from school worse than any other thing, but if there was one snowflake beginning to fall a few minutes before we started school, Papa would say, “You can’t go to school today, the weather’s too bad.” I’ve told this before in this writing, but one morning, just as I was ready to leave for school, a few snowflakes began to fall. Mama said that Papa wouldn’t let me go, but I answered her that Billy had already gone; he usually went ahead of me to walk with other boys along the road. And, too, Papa always gave him a nickel each morning for a large cookie with white icing to put in his dinner pail. (Incidentally, they were “Billy Boy” cookies, some four inches across.) As I was already wrapped that morning, I said to Mama, “I’m going on!”, and ran down the path across the field to the creek crossing. The day was not so cold and the snow soon stopped.
There was a day, whether it was our first winter on the homestead or the next, that the wintry day did bring a real snowstorm. It began around noon and got heavier as the afternoon wore on, cutting visibility to a few hundred feet. A dad or two came to pick up their children in cars. Unusual, as there were only a few cars in our district. But Papa walked the mile to the school to walk back home with us. Other children were walking with us, too, and some children made derogatory remarks about Papa coming to walk with us in the blowing snow; said that wouldn’t do us any good. But, we were all safer with a parent walking with us in the storm.
Editor’s note: Winter of 1917 is harsh, but the next chapter Spring will come and Pearl introduces two of the Noel girls which she befriends. Viola, the older, becomes a lifelong friend. World War I is becoming an issue in the U.S. and Pearl gives some details. Stay tuned. RAN