Editor’s note: I begin this chapter with an image that Pearl labels as ‘our first home’, named romantically “little grey home in the west” in Chapter 33, where Mama wrote about the first year of their marriage. After staying for the first month with Grandma Noel and family, they moved on Feb 25, 1921, into this old house on a lease Frank was farming. This humble home was pretty old and tattered, so Frank and Papa Thornton fixed it up. Pearl asked Frank for a better house a year later as they now have a new baby. So, in the Summer of 1923, Frank had the option of renewing the lease with an “improvement bid,” committing him to build a new house as part of the lease contract. Enjoy! RAN
Chapter 38: December 1923 to Mid-Summer, 1924- Four Moves, Five Homes
Frank had obtained an improvement bid on the lease, and the year 1923 was the year to build “the improvement” or the new house. But, sometime that fall, he decided that if he could sell the lease. He and a friend at Hollister, whom he had known for many years, would go into a garage business in Frederick. (Ed.note: We recall that Frank had taken automobile mechanic training in Wichita, Kansas, just before he proposed to Pearl in 1920.RAN) Frank found a buyer for the lease, Mr. Sullivan, but we must build the house. So, everything was set; we would move to Fredrick, the county seat.
We also experienced another joy that fall as we bought a new 1923 Model T Touring Car. We felt that the Lord had really smiled upon us that year; to build a new house, buy a new car, go into a new business! And we were happy in our renewed faith and spoke of it often.
Courtesy of Getty Images-A 1923 Model T Touring Car
We had a siege of rain that fall. Roads were almost impassable in places, and one of these spots was at the intersection near our house. One evening, just before going to bed, we heard a knock on the back door. Upon investigating, we saw a couple standing there in the rain. We invited them in, and learned that their car was stuck in the mud down at the bad spot in the road. As the hour was late and the poor facilities with which they had to work, it would be impossible to move the car. The decision was to put the couple up for the night. Their home was Electra, Texas, across the river to the south, but they had come by way of Grandfield, traveling west, headed for Frederick. They had missed their curve two miles back, which would have kept them on the U.S. 70 highway.
Ed. note: In the early 1920s, roads in these rural southwestern Oklahoma counties, like Tillman County, were built of the local sand and dirt, with rainwater ditches on either side. But, there was a fair amount of red clay mixed in with the usual sandy loam soil, and that clay was terrible for getting your wheels stuck after a big rain, even on the packed dirt road. The highway, U.S. 70, two miles away, was “paved” with a high concentration of gravel and well-canted, so it was passable in rainy weather. RAN
The man was a Canadian by birth and a delightful fellow. His wife told us that his nickname was “Happy.” I don’t recall the family name, but as it rained the next day, which I believe was Sunday, we had the opportunity to become acquainted with these nice people. Flax was a main crop in the area of his Canadian home, and he related incidents of threshing and storing flax seed, which we had not known before. Having no children of their own, the couple found Mildred quite a delight and brought to our attention her astuteness, which we had taken for granted. I had raised some fryers that fall, and as we ate chicken for dinner (lunch), MIldred, still not quite two years old, said, “Pass the chicken, please.” They were amazed, and remarked that they had never heard a two-year old say things such as that.
Ed. note: The term “fryer” denotes tender young chickens, under one year of age, meant for food, not laying eggs. This image shows a few chickens, some older layer hens. I grew up with this ready supply of two (eggs and fryers) healthful poultry sources of protein. Tasty “Southern fried chicken” was a favorite.
The clouds cleared away that Sunday afternoon, so Frank and Happy pulled the car out of the mud, dragging it to the house. They found a broken axle, so Happy knew that his work was cut out for him. So, on Monday morning as the sun was shining, Mr. “Canadian” sat out on foot for Grandfield, as roads were too soft to drive on in our area. Grandfield is 10 miles east of our home. He returned after dark with the necessary repairs, so he and Frank put the car back together. We sent them on their way, rejoicing, with memories that would not soon be forgotten.
MOVE ONE
As the autumn months merged into winter, plans were completed for our move to Frederick. The men, Frank and Pete Fry obtained a building suitable for an automobile repair garage business, and we each rented a house for our homes. The new house on the farm lease, a few feet from our little house, was being built as we moved away from “our little grey home in the West” without ever knowing the joy of living in the new home, which we had so fondly anticipated. We moved on December 11, 1923, Mildred’s second birthday.
The home we rented in Frederick was at 121 North 13th Street. It was a large house, too large for our house furnishings, so we closed off the front room with its folding French doors, which boasted a front bay window with a stained glass panel across the top. This style was one of the older homes in Frederick, as styles similar to this are still found here in Frederick. (Writing in 1980).
Above is the second Noel home, but the first home in Frederick, Oklahoma, Tillman County seat, about 22 miles northwest of the farm and “the little grey house in the west”. December 11, 1923, is move-in day into this home. In the margin at the bottom, Pearl writes “our second home” for this Noel family.
The owner of the house operated a tailor shop and cleaners, and he would be satisfied with rent payments of $50 at the first of every month. But, accustomed, as we were as farmers, to paying rent in advance, we plunked down six months of rent all at one time, which amounted to $300. About the middle of February, Mr. “tailor-man” announced that he had sold our rented home to be torn down, making way for a brick residence. The new owner demanded possession by the middle of March. We began to search for another house as we had only a month in which to give up the present location. When Frank asked the owner about the refund, he said he couldn’t afford it but would make Frank a vested suit with two pairs of pants. The total amount for 6 months was $300, so the man still owes us $150. But, he did make the suit which Frank wore, and was still wearable some thirty years later. When he passed away-at least one pair of trousers was still good.
MOVE TWO
The second home in Frederick, which we occupied from March 15 to June 15, 1924, was at 410 South 10th Street, or Main Street as it is commonly known. This house was a three-room structure. The three rooms in a row, with a bungalow-type porch roof, facing the street. It was a neat little place, large enough for our furniture and our family.
Ed. note: Frederick is a growing town, with many new farmers moving into the county in the early 1920s. These small homes were needed and adequate, as Pearl describes. This date indicates they vacated this last Frederick house on May 24, 1924.
I remember that it was here that we bought our first icebox. It had a 75-pound capacity, which we needed to keep our butter and milk as the summer days began to appear. Mrs. Kemp was a lovely neighbor on the right, Barbers on my left, and the Frank Barber family north of Mrs. Kemp at the end of the 300 Block.
Ed. note: 1920s Icebox advertisement. The ice blocks are placed in the left upper compartment, cooling the other compartments. The ice man would deliver fresh blocks of ice every few days. My wife recalls having one in their home in Detroit, MI, in the 1940s.
The garage business began to be unsatisfactory. The partners, Frank Noel and Pete Fry decided to sell out and quit the business. I am unfamiliar with the details of the equipment sale, but as the two closed their shop, they were satisfied that they had just about broken even during their six-month business period.
West Texas visit to investigate
Mandy’s brother, T.I. Long, better known as “Cranky,” was involved in selling land that was opening up on the West Texas Plains. Uncle Cranky and their family lived in Plainview, Texas, where he had invested in the land some years earlier. His land venture had proved unprofitable for his family for explainable reasons. The reasons for his failure were sufficiently explained for Frank to become interested in a land venture himself. So, we traveled to Plainview, Texas, through Spur, Texas, where we visited Mandy’s sister, Hettie Calvert.
Ed. note: To give some idea of the trip: Pearl, now expectant with her second child, with Mildred, age 2, Grandma Mandy, and teenaged David are riding with them; Frank was driving in the Ford Model T Touring car from Mandy’s farm home (red bubble on map), Tillman Co., OK to Plainview, TX (directly west on the map). It is “comfortable” for all of them, Pearl reports. They traveled along the nearby US 70 highway westward, where it crosses the Red River just east of Vernon, TX, then straight to Plainview, TX on US 70. This trip is about 200 miles. They do add a detour to visit Mandy’s sister in Spur, TX, 15 miles south of US 70 and about 30 miles southeast of Plainview along the way.
When we began our trip, Mildred had just finished with a siege of whooping cough. As I had not had whooping cough as a child, I contracted the childhood disease from her. I began a hacking cough, which persisted, and Mandy remarked that I “probably had whooping cough, while hoping against hope I didn’t have!”
Mandy and David went with us on the trip. We traveled comfortably in our 1923 Model T Ford Touring car. I had purchased a camera and expected to snap some interesting scenes, as we had not visited the areas we were to visit. The visit with Aunt Hettie and Uncle Jim Calvert near the town of Spur was pleasant. Sisters Hettie and Mandy kept everything lively, recalling their girlhood years which brought laughs all around. Frank and Uncle Jim had always had a fondness between them, so their visit together ended entirely too soon. The Calvert’s only son, Willie, and wife, Thelma, with their two children, Dorothy and Mildred, lived with the older couple in the same house. By our present standards, their family of six and our crowd of five could not have been comfortable with a visit of a few days and nights. But, there seemed to be no conflict in accommodating us all. Willie and Thelma, Frank and I, and David, along with the three babies, drove around the Spur area, where we took pictures before a backdrop of a high cliff. Back at the house, we snapped pictures of us all, Frank and I taking turns with the camera. We enjoyed the drive up to Plainview, on the High Plains. Although the views of “The Brakes” are not a novelty now, back in the early Twentieth Century, the winding, climbing roads revealed many unusual scenes to our eyes. There were dramatic cliffs and broken landscapes. Frank, however, as most men are, was not willing to stop for every “ooh” and “aah” of the hills, so I snapped only two scenes of our trip on the way to Plainview. The West Texas Plains, on the other hand, presented a breathtaking scene to us all as we viewed, for the first time, the boundless plains in all directions. All of the hills and valleys seemed to have suddenly disappeared into nowhere!
A recent aerial view of The Brakes entering the High Plains of West Texas which Pearl is witnessing and photographing. West is to the left.
This box camera is from the 1920 era Pearl is writing about. Mama used a similar Kodak Brownie box camera in my early childhood in the 1940s. She was great at capturing family activities on film.
Uncle Cranky and Aunt Laura Long’s family consisted of three boys; two were the same ages as Viola and Lona, 20 and 18 years old. Then, a younger boy, Ernest, age 14, also called “Jim.” Their daughter, Fern, was 11 years old and very active in pageants and other school activities. I snapped her picture with her wearing a fairy costume and tiara, and a wand in her hand, which was tipped with a star. She was a delightful little girl. Aunt Laura was a wisp of a woman and made up for her lack of stature with jolly conversation and ready wit.
Beulah was the oldest child of Uncle Cranky and Aunt Laura. She was married, lived in Plainview, also, and had a son and a daughter. We saw much of Beulah and her son but not much recall of her daughter. Beulah possessed an engaging personality, and the son is well remembered because of an unusual nickname: “Sweetie Pie.” He acquired the name during a critical illness while he was quite young. He was nursed at home, with limited visitors, but every passerby, school children and adults alike would call from the sidewalk: “How’s Sweetie Pie?” So, the nickname caught on, and he still carried it at age 10. I don’t remember his real name.
Two things concerning myself were somewhat shrouded in mystery; I knew I was pregnant. Some others knew, some didn’t. Also, I have whooping cough, or didn’t I? So, while sharing a meal in the Long’s home, this episode happened. Uncle Cranky, in his well known tradition, said grace at every meal, reminding Frank of other days when he, Jim Walters and Frank’s brother Austin, joked behind Uncle Cranky’s back, that he had everybody waiting while he “talked to his plate”, and the boys starved in the process. I admired Uncle Cranky’s faithfulness and consistency. But one day as we were partaking of a noon meal, I began a coughing spasm as I started to eat. I left the table for the bathroom, as I was fearful of losing the food I had just eaten. When I returned, Aunt Laura exclaimed, “Yes, you have the whooping cough! It always comes on when you are trying to eat.” She was probably right. It was, by that time, firmly established that I had the disease.
Frank and Uncle Crankey spent a couple of days looking at land as they were being informed of the virtues by land agents. At the end of the visit, Frank and I had selected 80 acres of raw land by Muleshoe, Texas (Frank always referred to it as “Jenny Slipper”), some 70 miles west of Plainview, twenty miles east of the New Mexico border. The 80 acres adjoining our 80-acre tract was for rent, with a shack of a house where we could live; not a very promising situation, but we were young and venturesome. We headed the Model T back toward Oklahoma, with goodbyes to Uncle Crank’s family, promising our return in a few days to take possession of the rented place near Muleshoe, Texas.
Move Three
Editor’s Note: This old photo from Mama’s collection shows the beginning of this big move to Muleshoe and The High Plains of West Texas is taken at the Thornton home. This is the borrowed truck from brother, Austin. From left to right, Mama Betty Thornton, Pearl, Frank on the cab above, Arthur, 9 years old (Peter and Mama Betty’s son), Billy, 14 years old (Pearl’s 4-year-old younger brother), Papa Pete Thornton and Mildred. This is June, 1924, making Mildred a two and a half year old little girl.
Frank planned to bring our furniture to Texas in Austin’s truck, along with enough cottonseed to plant the acreage on the rented land. So, a few days later, we departed Tillman County, Oklahoma. By getting an early start, we drove to Plainview in one day. I recall Frank, Mildred, and I spent a day or so at Uncle Crankey’s again. Aunt Laura had received a bite from a poisonous spider on her right arm a few years before, which affected the muscle. So she couldn’t use a broom. She needed someone to help out. I swept and cleaned the house for her. The hardwood floors throughout the house were bare, except for the kitchen and bath, so the sweeping was no problem for me, although there was considerable lint and dust collected as I swept it up. In her joking way, Aunt Laura remarked, “Well, I see that you got a pretty good turnout!” She added that she always said that to her girls.
Ed. note: The fourth home. Barren appearance of landscape, not a tree in sight. The Windmill to the right of the home was the single source of fresh water for the home and farm. They only stayed two weeks, but the dates on the photo indicate that they owned it until Feb., 1925. RAN
We left Uncle Crankey’s and headed for our new place. Frank and I felt a bit discouraged from the beginning seeing the shack again. With his hammer and saw, he patched a few holes in the floor and around the windows where mice and even small snakes could crawl in. There was a nice place to our west, some three-quarter mile away, with good buildings and plenty of shade trees and shrubs. This gave us hope that our place had promise, perhaps. We made a few trips to Muleshoe, a few miles to the west, for supplies. But we never made any acquaintances there.
Frank set about planting cotton with a mule team and planter hired from the neighbors, or maybe the land owner furnished these, I vaguely recall. Planting in the ash-like soil without sufficient moisture in June was a doubly discouraging experience for Frank. After lunch, as he lay and rested on our little porch on a folded quilt, I felt very sorry for him. As days passed, when we heard thunder and saw clouds move in our direction, our hopes were increased, and our discouragement was relieved for a short while. But, when a few drops of rain fell and a shower of hailstones, our hopes were again dashed to pieces. We had two such showers as we sat by our windows and hoped for sufficient moisture to sprout the cottonseed that Frank had so faithfully planted.
Two-mule team pulling a planter, dated 1924. That could be Frank!
I had the experience of every expectant mother while we lived at Muleshoe. The life within me moved! Now, in four and one-half to five months, we would have another child!
I had another experience while we were there, which was frightening. Mildred and I had to stay close to the house, so one day I proceeded to take her for a walk. To the Nortwest of our house was a hill of sorts-a rise in this very flat terrain. We were climbing slowly up this hill when suddenly, from a bush just ahead of us, a large snake moved rapidly away! It wasn’t moving in our direction, thank goodness; nevertheless, Mildred and I made an about-face and retraced our steps as fast as we could! Needless to say, that was our last walk among the cacti and sagebrush!
We stayed only two weeks at Muleshoe, Texas. Frank’s mind had been at work while his hands had been trying unsuccessfully to make a go of it there. He broke the news to me that we were going back home. “Where would we live?” I asked. ” I guess, with “Ma” and the kids,” he said. I wondered what we would do with our furniture: a kerosine cook stove, a small icebox we had bought in Frederick, the round oak table, six chairs, and a bedstead and mattress. Maybe we could store the cookstove, the remainder of the items could be used in Mandy’s home. Frank would take Austin’s truck and follow Mr. Hogan’s steam-engine wheat thresher crew up into northern Oklahoma, hauling wheat from the thresher to the elevator. In this way, he could make some money to keep us going through the summer. Mr. Hogan had asked him to go with the threshing crew before we left for West Texas. The plans were not perfect, but I was homesick, so it was worth a try.
Uncle Crankey’s family could hardly believe their ears as Frank told them we were going home as he outlined his plans for the summer. He hated to see us go, but there was no future for us, as we learned during this summer at Muleshoe. The eighty acres of land were secured, and that meant something. We had come out of the garage business with $4,000 and had put most of the amount on the land. I don’t recall the exact amount of the down payment.
Ed. note: The bridge in the photo is near Davidson, built in 1924, just west of the Electra Bridge in the story. These bridges are narrow, wooden, and often more than a mile long structures that cross the wide Red River. There is no toll gate or chain in this photo, as Pearl describes in the narrative.
The trip back to Oklahoma was faster but not smooth, with the cottonseed unloaded from the truck. We probably didn’t get an early start from Plainview, as midnight overtook us by the time we came to the toll bridge that crossed the Red River at Electra. Frank had to awaken Mr. Glasgow to lower the chain, to let us across, and receive his toll of one dollar. Frank and I both had an elated feeling as we crossed the river back into Oklahoma. We are only four and one-half miles further to drive. We were all very tired. Away back, somewhere on the road, Mildred wanted to get out and walk! I think her daddy had suggested it, and she thought it was a good idea! Of course, she couldn’t visualize what it would really be like, out walking, but it was a cute remark for a two and one-half year old! We thought so!
Ed. note: Next we learn of a new baby arriving, a new home on the lease after living with Mandy for a while. Stay Tuned.