This photo is taken around 1910 showing a typical country doctor and his buggy. THIS IS NOT THE DOCTOR WHO ATTENDED JEWELL IN THIS NARRATION.
Mama and Papa were both quite religious,. Mama was more devout, I believe. On the other hand, Papa may have been aware of a divine call to preach the gospel. If this were so, he never answered the summons, although, he was recognized as an excellent Bible teacher in many congregations throughout his lifetime. There came a time, however, in my young parents’ lives when their faith was tested severely. Diphtheria, the dreaded childhood disease, took Jewell, my two year old sister. I remember when the doctor came and laid her on her little stomach on the table that night. Papa held the lamp while the doctor administered the diphtheria antitoxin with big needles which he pushed into her small back. Even in my tender years, I could detect the fear in the doctor’s eyes as he looked at me, too, as I stood beside Papa, as he expressed to my parents the danger of the dread disease.
I do not recall how long Jewell was ill. I was perhaps, kept away from her, maybe at another home somewhere in the community. I do not know the date of her death, but records preserved from the Zion HIll Baptist Church show that a collection was taken for P. H. Thornton, my father, on April 3, 1909. The monetary assistance was not designated, but it was to bear the expenses of the family incurred during the illness and death of the baby, apparently.
This is a later building, circa 1945, of Zion Hill Missionary Baptist Church in the small Van Dyke community. Pearl visited this site in 1980 doing research for this writing.
I remember well the day of the funeral when our lives seemed so disoriented. I felt so alone! I was only four at the time, but I remember when I saw Mother standing, leaning against the large quilt box in my bedroom, I wanted to hold her hand. I was aware that she was hurting, too, as she stood gazing into the opposite corner of the room where the small, homemade coffin, supported by two chairs, held the body of the beautiful brown eyed, brown curly-haired little girl. It was all beyond Mother’s comprehension! Why? Why? She was, perhaps, unwilling to accept it. It seemed so cruel, so unfair! She and Papa had lost their first two children in infancy; Homer, the first, a son, then Uda, a daughter.
They were married more that eight years when I was born, so there could have been other abortive births of which I am not aware. I was a strong, healthy child and Jewell had so much promise. Our parents were looking forward to a third child – their joy must have been complete. (Vinie was in her late third trimester of pregnancy. RAN). And now, this shattering, heart-rending shock! Mother was bereft of all reason. She felt that there was no need to share her sorrow nor to try to comfort me – she appeared rebellious, stoic. I do not recall ever seeing Mother shed a tear. She was a tower of strength and fortitude, but she refused to bow and share it now – her disappointment was too immense!
I sought Papa out when Mother refused to be comforted or to comfort me. I saw him through the west window, wearing his white shirt and his Sunday hat, talking to some other men. I made my way through the south door and around to where he stood. I put my small hand in his and as he looked down at me expectantly I said, “Jewell is in Heaven now isn’t she?” “Yes” he answered, “Jewell is in Heaven.”
He had told me this before, I’m sure, but to hear him tell me again helped me to accept her absence; and this acceptance seemed to help fill the empty place that her going had left in my heart and life.
This photo is taken around 1910 showing a typical country doctor and his buggy. THIS IS NOT THE DOCTOR WHO ATTENDED JEWELL IN THIS NARRATION.
Mama and Papa were both quite religious,. Mama was more devout, I believe. On the other hand, Papa may have been aware of a divine call to preach the gospel. If this were so, he never answered the summons, although, he was recognized as an excellent Bible teacher in many congregations throughout his lifetime. There came a time, however, in my young parents’ lives when their faith was tested severely. Diphtheria, the dreaded childhood disease, took Jewell, my two year old sister. I remember when the doctor came and laid her on her little stomach on the table that night. Papa held the lamp while the doctor administered the diphtheria antitoxin with big needles which he pushed into her small back. Even in my tender years, I could detect the fear in the doctor’s eyes as he looked at me, too, as I stood beside Papa, as he expressed to my parents the danger of the dread disease.
I do not recall how long Jewell was ill. I was perhaps, kept away from her, maybe at another home somewhere in the community. I do not know the date of her death, but records preserved from the Zion HIll Baptist Church show that a collection was taken for P. H. Thornton, my father, on April 3, 1909. The monetary assistance was not designated, but it was to bear the expenses of the family incurred during the illness and death of the baby, apparently.
This is a later building, circa 1945, of Zion Hill Missionary Baptist Church in the small Van Dyke community. Pearl visited this site in 1980 doing research for this writing.
I remember well the day of the funeral when our lives seemed so disoriented. I felt so alone! I was only four at the time, but I remember when I saw Mother standing, leaning against the large quilt box in my bedroom, I wanted to hold her hand. I was aware that she was hurting, too, as she stood gazing into the opposite corner of the room where the small, homemade coffin, supported by two chairs, held the body of the beautiful brown eyed, brown curly-haired little girl. It was all beyond Mother’s comprehension! Why? Why? She was, perhaps, unwilling to accept it. It seemed so cruel, so unfair! She and Papa had lost their first two children in infancy; Homer, the first, a son, then Uda, a daughter.
They were married more that eight years when I was born, so there could have been other abortive births of which I am not aware. I was a strong, healthy child and Jewell had so much promise. Our parents were looking forward to a third child – their joy must have been complete. (Vinie was in her late third trimester of pregnancy. RAN). And now, this shattering, heart-rending shock! Mother was bereft of all reason. She felt that there was no need to share her sorrow nor to try to comfort me – she appeared rebellious, stoic. I do not recall ever seeing Mother shed a tear. She was a tower of strength and fortitude, but she refused to bow and share it now – her disappointment was too immense!
I sought Papa out when Mother refused to be comforted or to comfort me. I saw him through the west window, wearing his white shirt and his Sunday hat, talking to some other men. I made my way through the south door and around to where he stood. I put my small hand in his and as he looked down at me expectantly I said, “Jewell is in Heaven now isn’t she?” “Yes” he answered, “Jewell is in Heaven.”
He had told me this before, I’m sure, but to hear him tell me again helped me to accept her absence; and this acceptance seemed to help fill the empty place that her going had left in my heart and life.
We now encounter some of the most distressing passages in Pearl’s autobiography. She has just turned four years old. We get a glimpse into the forces shaping the author’s heart and soul, mind and will, especially with her mother’s struggles.
This photo is taken around 1910 showing a typical country doctor and his buggy. THIS IS NOT THE DOCTOR WHO ATTENDED JEWELL IN THIS NARRATION.
Mama and Papa were both quite religious,. Mama was more devout, I believe. On the other hand, Papa may have been aware of a divine call to preach the gospel. If this were so, he never answered the summons, although, he was recognized as an excellent Bible teacher in many congregations throughout his lifetime. There came a time, however, in my young parents’ lives when their faith was tested severely. Diphtheria, the dreaded childhood disease, took Jewell, my two year old sister. I remember when the doctor came and laid her on her little stomach on the table that night. Papa held the lamp while the doctor administered the diphtheria antitoxin with big needles which he pushed into her small back. Even in my tender years, I could detect the fear in the doctor’s eyes as he looked at me, too, as I stood beside Papa, as he expressed to my parents the danger of the dread disease.
I do not recall how long Jewell was ill. I was perhaps, kept away from her, maybe at another home somewhere in the community. I do not know the date of her death, but records preserved from the Zion HIll Baptist Church show that a collection was taken for P. H. Thornton, my father, on April 3, 1909. The monetary assistance was not designated, but it was to bear the expenses of the family incurred during the illness and death of the baby, apparently.
This is a later building, circa 1945, of Zion Hill Missionary Baptist Church in the small Van Dyke community. Pearl visited this site in 1980 doing research for this writing.
I remember well the day of the funeral when our lives seemed so disoriented. I felt so alone! I was only four at the time, but I remember when I saw Mother standing, leaning against the large quilt box in my bedroom, I wanted to hold her hand. I was aware that she was hurting, too, as she stood gazing into the opposite corner of the room where the small, homemade coffin, supported by two chairs, held the body of the beautiful brown eyed, brown curly-haired little girl. It was all beyond Mother’s comprehension! Why? Why? She was, perhaps, unwilling to accept it. It seemed so cruel, so unfair! She and Papa had lost their first two children in infancy; Homer, the first, a son, then Uda, a daughter.
They were married more that eight years when I was born, so there could have been other abortive births of which I am not aware. I was a strong, healthy child and Jewell had so much promise. Our parents were looking forward to a third child – their joy must have been complete. (Vinie was in her late third trimester of pregnancy. RAN). And now, this shattering, heart-rending shock! Mother was bereft of all reason. She felt that there was no need to share her sorrow nor to try to comfort me – she appeared rebellious, stoic. I do not recall ever seeing Mother shed a tear. She was a tower of strength and fortitude, but she refused to bow and share it now – her disappointment was too immense!
I sought Papa out when Mother refused to be comforted or to comfort me. I saw him through the west window, wearing his white shirt and his Sunday hat, talking to some other men. I made my way through the south door and around to where he stood. I put my small hand in his and as he looked down at me expectantly I said, “Jewell is in Heaven now isn’t she?” “Yes” he answered, “Jewell is in Heaven.”
He had told me this before, I’m sure, but to hear him tell me again helped me to accept her absence; and this acceptance seemed to help fill the empty place that her going had left in my heart and life.
It is February,1909. Pearl, is now four, and her sister Jewel, turns two in March. Her mother is now 28 years old, is expecting a baby in April. This narrative is appended with a delightful surprise.
Chewing gum had the most popular period in the USA from 1890 to 1910. This was a Wrigley Company product.
“Late evenings when Papa came home, probably from shopping in town, he would bring me chewing gum sometimes; of course, I was always expecting it. I remember well the brand of the gum was “Sweet Sixteen”, with the picture of a pretty girl on the blue and white wrapper. The flavor was wintergreen, I learned in later years. As Papa unwrapped a piece of gum and handed it to me he would always say, “Sweet Sixteen” and look laughingly at Mama. It was likely a reference to Mother who was his bride at “Sweet Sixteen”. This impressed upon me the brand of the gum even though I did not understand the meaning of “Sweet Sixteen”. The packaging of this gum was in square blocks, marked off into four small squares. Five of these blocks constituted a package. One small square was enough for a small child to chew at once. Eager as I was for the gum, there was one other favor I desired when he came from town, some “painting pencils”. This could mean either wax crayons or colored lead pencils, but I do not recall having this request granted until I was in school, perhaps for a variety of reasons!
The living room of our home had a door which opened out upon a small porch or maybe just a “stoop”, a window, also on the south side and a small square window beside the fireplace at the east end of the room. A bed stood in the southwest corner of this room. In the northwest corner the two rocking chairs I have described sitting opposite beside a small table on which rested a kerosene lamp. Papa’s trunk of tin, the “camel back” style, was blue with a white veining design, covering the rounded top, sides and ends. It was reinforced with narrow wood strips, and leather handles for carrying at either end. Inside the trunk a tray set in the top for storing jewelry, watches, neckties and other wardrobe accessories. The trunk was also a storage place for important documents and other papers and letters. Above this trunk, hung a picture of Mother’s Mother, Margaret Melvina Watts, in hand painted colors, in a massive, ornate frame. This was on the north side of the room.
The portrait Pearl is describing that hung above Papa’s Camelback Trunk.You have seen it in past posts: Margaret M. Watts, Vinie’s mother.
Mama’s trunk was under the small window by the fireplace. It was brown, reinforced with the narrow strips of varnished wood, covered with a this cloth between the strips of wood. It was flat on the top, the inside tray was similar to Papa’s trunk. These personal trunks were very important possessions in that era and we grew up learning to respect them, taught strictly not to look into them without the permission of the owner. Papa had a small mirror beside the front door, which hung above a small shelf that held his shaving needs; razor, shaving mug and brush, supplied with a round bar of shaving soap.
The other large room on the west was my bedroom. It was furnished with a full sized bed in the northeast corner, a large wooden box, possibly a quilt box in the southeast corner, maybe a sewing machine, as Mother sewed our dresses. A doorway led out front, and another door led into the long shed room on the north which served as kitchen and dining room. There was a window on the west side of this room. A dining room table and chairs occupied the west end of the long shed-room with a west window, a north window, an outside door on the north and a small window of the sliding variety on the east, such as the one on the east wall of the living room. The cook stove was located near this window, a small table, used for a “cook” table was in the corner with shelves above for storing staple groceries and dishes. A neat curtain hung over these shelves to protect them from dust and insects.
An early 1900s inexpensive wood burning cook stove similar to what they used. Although, they did not have running water as one detail in the photo might suggest.
On the south wall of this room between the two doors leading into the adjoining rooms, stood a washstand on which a pail of water and a wash basin sat, with a towel bar above. Two doors opened in the lower part of the stand where towels and dish towels were stored. One other item in this room was a wooden keg sitting by the table, which I occupied at mealtime as it sat taller than the chairs. Mother also used this keg for a storage of many trinkets, valuable to her, one of which was a silver thimble, marked “sterling”. I was scolded many times for removing the cushion from the keg and taking off the top to amuse myself by prowling among these fascinating trinkets. I remember the thimble in particular, probably because my attention was called to it so frequently. About this time I had picked up the phrase “Birds of a feather all flock together” which tickled my ears and my fancy, I suppose. I hadn’t said this in my parents’ presence many times until they called by attention to never say that again. They told me it was an ugly phrase! Of course, I learned later that it meant that persons of the same likes and dislikes, thoughts and ideas, are drawn to one another and tend to gather or “flock” together. I have never quite understood what they meant by their discipline of me about the phrase, but I had likely heard their discussion of persons they were associated with, classifying them as fit or unfit for their own association. It was quite a grown-up phrase; perhaps they feared that I might embarrass them by repeating it in the company of their friends and acquaintances! Well, “little pitchers do have big ears”, and sometimes big mouths too!
Pearl visits Comanche County, Texas in 1980 in her 75th year.She learns about her mother’s unknown talent. As I have stated, Mama and Papa were apparently, quite involved in church and community affairs. I was elated in recent years to learn of a ninety-two year old woman in Comanche, Texas who still remembered my Mother and Father and even Jewell and me. She is (was in 1980) Mrs. Lizzie (Daniels) Fritts. She related the amazing story of the play my Mother wrote for her and her friend, Pearl Cobb, to be presented by Mother. She recalled clearly the day Mother asked them over to our house to practice the play. Lizzie related that Jewell and I were causing a bit of distraction, so Mother sent us into the other room to play. She couldn’t recall a presentation of the play, nor where it was to be presented, but as she stated, many, many years had passed since she had even thought of it. I was so pleased that my Mother’s talent was remembered by Mrs. Fritts. Perhaps I inherited this flair for writing from her as I have always had the tendency to want to put my ideas down in writing. Moreover, I have been encouraged since grammar school and through the years, up to the present, to write. I guess I have a compulsion to write, as others have to paint, draw, sing, dance or even work! People are like that! Mother likely received sharp criticism for this writing of a play, even! In some segments of our society where bodily exercise and physical work are considered much more healthful and profitable than spending time in reading or writing, this kind of endeavor would certainly be frowned upon. It might, as a matter-of-fact be looked upon as the sign of a disordered mind! What cruelty! My Mother was really ahead of her time in her thinking and in her society.
The next chapter will bring great sadness and some uncertainty into the young life of Pearl Thornton. As she expresses, life can be pretty hard at times.
This chapter in young Pearl’s life, after a brief 9 to 10 months stay in western Oklahoma, is yet another move; this time going south to Texas.Pearl now describes this move of the Peter and Vinie Thornton family, traveling (nothing about how) from western Oklahoma due south (see map) to the Hill Country of central Texas, to find “land to farm”. There is no reasons given for choosing this location.
Texas and Oklahoma map of 1917. So, it is 10 years after this section of Pearl’s story. Locate the red x in Oklahoma, just above Wichita Falls, Texas. Go directly down to Commanche County, Texas, where Peter and Vinie and girls arrived to start a new life.
Pearl’s young sister Jewel was born, as you recall, in March of 1907 in Oklahoma. So with this move coming in late 1907 or early 1908, Pearl is now nearing three years of age and Jewell is almost ten months old. So, Vinie has her hands full in uncomfortable frontier-like circumstancesas we see the family settle into this new community.
As Pearl’s narrative begins, this bracketed paragraph repeats the end of the last post, for continuity’s sake.
[Seeking land to farm, Pete and Vinie with their two small daughters left the homestead with the shelter and support of the W. I. Thornton family and arrived in Comanche County, Texas in the latter part of 1907 (or the early part of 1908). In leaving Oklahoma, we moved from a brand new state, as Oklahoma became the forty-sixth state of the United States on November 16, 1907! I do not recall the move to Comanche County, Texas, as I was only in my third year, but a few instances of permanent recall are beginning to be imprinted in my memory as my young life unfolds and progresses in its development.]
“IN GOD WE TRUST”
Following the Civil War Rev. N. R. Wilkinson felt compelled to write the Secretary of the Treasury saying that the U. S. A. should show reverence to God in thankfulness by placing a statement of faith on the currency. The treasury secretary sent a letter to the director of the mint, passing along the request…nothing was done about this until 1908 when Theodore Roosevelt instructed that “In God we Trust” be put on the one cent piece. In 1956 Congressman Chas. E. Bennett requested this statement to be put on currency.
LIFE IN COMANCHE COUNTY, TEXAS
Circa,1908.
This is Comanche County, Texas around 1910. See Van Dyke just above Comanche, the county seat. Also, notice the streams running near the village of Van Dyke. These come into play in these future recollections of Pearl as a child living in the country near this village.
To a small child, short trees look tall, small cows look large; moreover, the whole world holds for him a wide and exciting enchantment. Mothers, petite and gentle as they might appear, have a strong and fierce impact upon disobedient children! It was in this setting in an unforgettable encounter with my mother that I remember my first lesson in obedience; consequently, my earliest responsibility for my behavior. I couldn’t have been more than three years old at the time. These trees of the post-oak variety, formed a pleasant grove back of our home where a few cattle sheltered and grazed in a fenced enclosure. Access to this area was gained through a slatted wooden gate. One day some neighbors were passing by with their children along the road that led through the gate. I was out beside the house, and as I watched them going by, they waved friendly greetings to me. I decided to follow them. At that moment, my Mother discovered me by the gate. Frantic with fear she hurried toward me. The vision is still vivid in my mind as she rushed out, her long skirts swirling about her feet, her dark eyes blazing! She grabbed me by the hand, swept me up into her arms and ran swiftly into the house. I don’t recall any corporal punishment inflicted upon me, but she impressed upon my young mind the danger of my being among the cows, as I saw the fright in her eyes and noted her plaintive voice, accented by the definitive gestures of her hands. The incident remains indelibly imputed upon my mind!
The live oak beyond. the pasture is typical of the area in the narrative.
Another incident, quite different from the above, but equally impressive occurred one Sunday morning after I was dressed for church. I began singing phrases of a hymn I had heard in church. I noticed the smiles on my parents’ faces as they spoke proudly and lovingly of “Pearl becoming a singer someday.” I was rather young to be singing, so I can understand how they must have delighted in my ability; naturally, I was pleased by their praises.
This photograph is on the Zion Hill Baptist Church, Comanche, Tx. Facebook page. From the narrative, this building may be dated from 1912, two years after Pearl moved from that town. See Texas Official Historical Medallion to left of tree.
We had moved to the Van Dyke community located some six miles northeast of Comanche, Texas, county seat of Comanche County, Texas. Van Dyke, a friendly, thriving community in 1907, contrasted sharply with the same area I visited in 1971. Where a few dirt roads afforded traffic by horse drawn vehicles in 1907, this point is now transversed by two highways, U.S. 377 and U.S. 67, north and south directions, and in addition to this, the Texas state highways and hard surfaced farm to market roads accessible to the community. In 1971, Van Dyke consists of an auto repair shop, a school building, a beauty salon and a Baptist church. Zion Hill Baptist Church stands, attesting to the faith of a few who, throughout these many years have kept this historical institution alive. Beside the white frame church building is a pavilion, once used for a summer meeting place. This site boasts a historical marker which reads: “ZION HILL BAPTIST CHURCH. Second Missionary Baptist Church in County. Organized by C. S. Fritts, J. M. Lumpkin, Dennis O’Brian, Sarah Lumpkin, Stacy Martin and Mart T. Hardin, August 2, 1873, at Zion Hill Cemetery (1/2mi. W). First frame building was erected at that site. Delegates from area’s various Baptist churches met here in 1875 to form county’s first Baptist Association. Church moved to this site, 1912”. Topping the shaft on which the marker rests is a large disc with a relief map of Texas. Inscribed on the lower half of the circle this designation: “Official Historical Medallion”. Except for a few modern homes scattered about the area, scrub oak and other bushes and grasses have taken over the land surrounding Van Dyke. Numerous homes were once located in these hills and valleys; here and there a small ancient structure, now in ruins, bespeaks the happy active and thriving community that was once Van Dyke.
A small, humble house in the rural area near Van Dyke, Texas around 1907 would have resembled this.
My Mother and Father soon became an integral part of community life in Van Dyke. I remember Mama taking Jewell and me on a few separate occasions to visit neighbors. Once we went to an empty house where some women were cleaning by scrubbing its floors, then flooding them to rinse the suds away. I shall never forget the gaunt look of that empty house with its doors and windows all standing open while water still drained from the doorsteps. Such houses in those days had no floor coverings nor wallpaper, so perhaps it was a sanitary way in which to clean a house, but to my youthful comprehension the gaping, wet house was very repulsive and appeared to me, very unlivable!
The minutes of a business meeting at Zion Hill Baptist Church, still preserved, records that Papa and Mama united with the church in August, 1907. We must have moved from the Van Dyke community temporarily, as church records indicate that my parents withdrew from the fellowship by letter, in January, 1908. My young mind did not record a memory of our next home, but some months later that same year found us back in the Van Dyke community.
Enlarged map of Comanche, Texas with Rt 16 going 6 miles north to red marker which is site of Zion Hill Baptist Church.
Close up from above. The red pin is Zion Hill Baptist Church. This intersection is 6 miles north of Comanche, Tx. The village of Van Dyke was here, circa 1907. Note Duncan Creek runs just south of the church location.
This home, near Duncan Creek which ran along the south edge of the settlement, was a place where many early memories were to be permanently forged in my young heart and mind. Our house was on the south side of the creek on a hill facing a road to the south. On the north the hill sloped gently down to the creek. The house, a small unpainted structure, consisted of two large rooms with a shed room on the north extending the full length of the two rooms. I remember the clothesline fastened to the northwest corner which reached a tree near the yard fence several feet away. One summer evening, during an electrical storm, lightning struck the tree and ran down the wire clothesline, ripping a splintered hole in the corner of our house. That was a frightful time for us all!
Despite storms outside our house, inside our home was comfort and security as our parents were loving and kind. Jewell, now nearly two years of age, and I enjoyed reckless games as most children do at times. One game was standing in the rocking chairs, and as we held to the backs, we rocked as high as we could. The larger chair rocked the highest, so we frequently quarreled over the chairs. One day we were rocking in the living room while Mother was busy in the kitchen. I was standing in the large chair, rocking as high as I could, when over it went! Mother came running, but fortunately I was not hurt. Mother had warned us against playing with the chairs, fearing they would turn over with us. The fright I received plus Mother’s stern admonition, ended that dangerous game once and for all time.
My Mother was perhaps ahead of her time in caring for children, as she believed in bathing little girls before going to bed, regardless of the weather. One cold windy evening when Papa was late coming in from work, he found Jewell and me in a steaming tub before a roaring fire in the fireplace. Mother had taken every precaution against a drafty room by hanging bed quilts over the windows in the room, and closing the doors leading into other rooms of the house. I remember Papa’s surprise and disgust that he voiced in no uncertain terms. A small quarrel ensued between them, but as I recall Jewell and I were apparently none the worse for that winter bath!
This is similar to the wash tub Pearl describes in this narrative. On our farm in Oklahoma Pearl’s children would all have experienced this kind of weekly baths! I remember it well. But, we did not have a fireplace, so we bathed in the kitchen.
So, the Thornton family have been in Comanche County, Texas over a year as Jewell was “nearly two” toward the end of this narrative. It is February-March of 1909, and Pearl has turned four. Chapter Three will find the family growing, but some very critical events occur in the coming narrative that will have life shaping effect on Pearl.
In this post we are introduced to Pearl’s parents Peter and Melvina, and the Thornton grandparents. The mother and father meet and marry. Melvina, often referred to as “Vinie”, has four pregnancies in the first 11 years of their marriage. Only two children survive beyond infancy. This young family make several moves during this post, and Pearl demonstrates remarkable early childhood memories.
A little context may help you read these following posts: Mama begins by telling of this early Thornton history (circa 1895). Peter’s father, William Issac Thornton is now 58 y.o. and Peter’s mother, Elizabeth Lasiphene Ware Thornton is 47 y.o. She has delivered nine children, the last, Charley, b 1888. Sadly, in 1885 their first child, Almeda May, age 16, died of “dropsy” (heart failure: probable cause was rheumatic fever/heart valve damage) while the family was living in Fannan Co., Texas.
This wonderful photograph is circa 1890, in Fannon County, Texas. The oldest daughter Almeda died in 1885. These are the eight remaining children of W.I. and Lasiphene. The older young woman second from left is Mattie, age 25, from W.I.’s first marriage. From l, back row: Lulu Dove, Mattie, Allen, Peter, Bob, and Jim. Front row from l: W. I., Charley, Lasiphene, standing Mag (Margaret), sitting Bee.William Issac (W.I.) is the patriarch of the two generations before Pearl’s time. You will see several unfamiliar names in this post. This tree is provided to help orient you regarding the relationships.
Fannon County, Tx. borders the Red River to the north. So the Thorntons have moved across the river, and they are living in the small town of Blue, Indian Territory bordered on the south by the Red River. This is in the Choctaw country, I.T., near Durant, then headquarters of the Choctaw Nation.
This map clarifies the location of “Indian Territory” and “Oklahoma Territory”. This map is in the time period of which is Pearl is writing, 1896-1907. Compare with map below for town locations.
William Issac has become “a zealous Baptist missionary” to the Indians, according to Pearl’s earlier description. That is the apparent reason for moving into I.T. Durant and Blue are in the southern part of Indian Territory near the Red River.
But, as story moves along, Pete marries and his young family travels west by train, where they enter the southwestern part of Oklahoma Territory, about 150 miles west of Blue. W.I.’s family has already moved out west. This southwest corner is Kiowa and Commanche lands. These tribes have decided to auction off some of their assigned lands. One section is an area called “The Big Pasture”. It soon becomes part of Tillman County, in the new state of Oklahoma in 1907. It is where Pearl and Frank met, married, bought a farm and raised all of their children. My home!
Enjoy the adventures! Ray
This 1906 map shows Durant and Blue in the eastern part of this map. What is not found is Stigler, where Pearl was born. Whitfield is 6 miles west of Stigler. Just an error in mapmaking. Another omission in the west is no Frederick, Grandfield or Randlett, all towns in Pearl’s stories, that had been established before 1906. The land area between Pearson, and Gosnell to the left and Botsford and Hastings to the right is the area along the Red River our Thorntons and Noels will settle in, The Big Pasture. This pink map show what will in one year become the state of Oklahoma.
(This begins Pearl’s writing)
XII. AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SECTION
As this section of Thornton history begins, a quotation or two about memory is appropriate, as much of this writing will lean heavily on my memory.
Mary H. Waldrip said, “Memory is the diary we all carry about with us.”
“Music is the way our memories sing to us across time,” said Lance Morrow, quoted in Time Magazine ; and music will figure quite prominently in this autobiography as eras of time pass in panoramic view before our eyes.
Hal Boyle: “Memory is the best of all gardens. Therein, winter and summer, the seeds of the past lie dormant, ready to spring into instant bloom at any moment the mind wishes to bring them to life.”
And on looking back, James Herriot says, “My past is a sweet, safe place to be.”(Favorite Memories of a Country Vet)
Whereas the incidents of the story thus far have been acquired from some secondary sources, such as records, written and oral, it will now continue for the most part, with recollections, mainly from primary sources. I do rely on other persons to reinforce my recall in many cases, however. Before this section is begun, let us consider Pete’s and Vinie’s beginnings plus a brief sketch of Vinie’s family.
Peter Hamilton Thornton (Pete), born April 12, 1875), married Margaret Melvina Watts (Born in Alabama December 24, 1880) at Whitefield, Indian Territory, on October 4, 1896. “This marriage was solemnized by John Hill, Minister of the Gospel.” (in Vinie’s writing) It is not known for sure where the Watts family resided at the time of the marriage; whether in the area of Whitefield or in the Blue and Bennington area near Durant. Pete recalled the Watts family moving into the community where they lived at Blue, I. T. with four beautiful young daughters. One day as Pete and Jim rode horseback on their way into town they saw the pretty girls standing under the shade trees by the house. Both Pete and Jim, on sight, chose a girl to be his wife. As Pete boasted, “I got mine, but Jim didn’t get his choice!”
Peter and Melvina (Vinie) circa 1896, taken in Durant, Indian Territory
The Watts family had removed from Alabama to Indian Territory, but the time of this move is unknown. W. F. Watts was born September 12, 1858, (place unknown). Margaret Melvina (Gray) Watts was both July 25, 1860 in Alabama, receiving her education in that state. This couple was united in marriage on July 25, 1876. Their first daughter, Delia, was born (ca) 1877. Mary Elizabeth, also known as Mollie, born (ca) 1878; Margaret Melvina, also known as Vinie, born 1880; and Roxie, born (ca) 1882.
The ethnic origin of W. F. Watts has not been established but is reported to be an “Irish-looking type” man, ruddy complexioned, blue-eyed, sandy red hair. His wife Margaret Melvina Gray Watts, was, according to her testimony, one-quarter degree Cherokee Indian. Although several avenues have been explored in search of evidence of her Indian heritage, they are all to no avail. We have only word of mouth of her testimony passed on to this generation. Obviously, her Indian blood was not registered, consequently, no records are available. Margaret Watts died August 9, 1899. W. F. Watts remarried, a woman named Lillie in 1900 and reared another family, a son, Columbus Watts, two daughters, one of whom was Carrie, but the others name is unknown. This limited information is all that is known of them. After wife Lillie’s death, W. F. Watts married an older woman (name unknown). He died in 1948 past 90 years of age.
Margaret Melvina (Gray) Watts, b-1860;,this tinted photograph was taken 1893; this is Vinie’s mother. She died in 1899, when Vinie was 19 years old, married for 3 years.
Pete and Vinie had a son born to them in 1898, they named him Homer. Statistics are sparse concerning the short life of this little son as he died in infancy. Records of places of birth, death and burial are not available. In 1900, a daughter was born to the couple. They named her Uda. She, also, lived only a brief time and likewise there are no vital statistics available in her case.
After moving to Stigler, Indian Territory, Zula Pearl Thornton was born (January 27, 1905) to the young Thorntons. It is not recorded where the Thorntons made their home during the next two years, but this brings us to the move west to the Oklahoma Territory which we have discussed.
(The following is inserted as passage “which we have discussed”. It occurs early in 1907, just 2 years following Pearl’s January birth.)
P. H. Thornton, better known as “Pete”, and his wife “Vinie” with two year old Pearl came by train from Indian Territory to the Western part of Oklahoma Territory. Railroads were running East to West through Vernon, Texas, and now the branch line to Davidson made the trip rather convenient to W. I.’s and Lasiphene’s home.
Vinie was an expectant mother at the time, and it is not recorded the way in which the rest of the family fared on the train trip West, but Pete and Vinie recalled that Pearl, two years of age, was train sick as the rocking coaches made their way along the track. That was only the beginning; travel sickness plagues me to this day!
Western train engines had “cattle guards” on front to knock of buffalo and range cattle wandering onto the tracks. This may have been similar to the train Pearl took from east to west.
We arrived at the Thornton home, the last leg of which was either by the horse and buggy piloted by either W. I. or Charley, or perhaps by wagon and a two-horse team as Pete and Vinie had considerable baggage.
The Thorntons, including their nineteen year old son, Charley, lived in the two room structure that Jesse Ware (ed. Lasiphene’s brother) had built as he obtained the tract of land in 1901. They were gracious enough to move into one room of the house, giving one room to Pete’s family. This “crowding up”, as we would call it in our day, was common practice as family relatives removed East to West in those days.
This very rough building could be like the simply constructed two room house Pearl describes in this section. This house is older, as the one she describes is only 6 years old. Cotton was the “cash crop” and was grown on most farms in this era. This photograph was taken in October, as this crop is ready for harvest! These “boles”are ready to be pulled.
Obviously, I have no memory or recall of those days but imagine that I do because of the many times I heard my parents and grandparents repeat the incidents that occurred in this period of my life. I contracted an eye infection simply referred to as “sore eyes”. It was transferable to others, especially to other children, and great care was taken to prevent its spreading. The infection would cover a period of some eight to ten days; sometimes causing the small victims to experience total blindness for a few days. While my eyes were swollen completely closed Papa brought home a doll for me to help quiet my crying and to help relieve my frustration. Although I could feel her pretty face and her tiny hands and feet, I could only imagine her beauty until one day my eyes began to open just a little and I saw her for the first time!
What a relief the family must have experienced on that day! It is only natural for small children to want to go to grandmother’s house, but my Mother forbade me that pleasure. I soon learned to go out our door and slip around the house to where I could visit with Grandpa as he sat outside on his doorstep. I was likely already quite fluent in the English language, so Grandpa would amuse himself by talking with me. In the process he began teaching me to count, eventually leading me to learn to count to ten. At two years of age, this was an accomplishment, and received with great joy by all the family.
Another occurrence, which I recall, when Mama was bathing me, lying across her lap with my head hanging down on one side of her and my legs dangling on the other, I noticed for the first time how items in the kitchen looked upside down! Child psychologists claim that this experience occurs in the first year. (How do they know this? Oh well, so much for that! Probably my very first “preserved” memory!)
In the months that followed, another daughter was born to the Pete Thorntons. They named her Jewell. She was my sister, a little dark-eyed, dark-haired girl, the very image of Mother. She was to become my little playmate and companion for only two short years; but with daughters Pearl and Jewell, this young couple must have felt richly endowed with their small family to love and care for!
The date of Jewell Thornton’s birth is not recorded in the archives of Oklahoma’s vital statistics, but I assume in the early spring probably the month of March, 1907.
These wash tubs and ringer are similar to what Pearl’s family would have used in 1907.
Living in our one room domain, a part of my Grandparents home, I’m sure Mother felt very inhibited, to say the least; that she was an imposition upon the family in many ways. While she rested in bed following Jewell’s birth, laundry must be done and Aunt Mag, who lived in Frederick, O. T., some eight miles away and Aunt Bee, from Fannin County, Texas, were at the home doing the laundry one day. Aunt Mag had no children but Aunt Bee had two small boys and likely Grandma and Grandpa were taking care of the children, including Pearl, while the girls did the laundry out in the shade beside the house. They were happy to be together, no doubt, if it were over a steaming tub and washboard! But Mother, lying helpless, was suffering both wrath and frustration, spoke to Grandma about the girls laughing and talking, believing they were talking about her! This was a natural way of venting her frustration and anger; of course, her sisters-in-law were not talking of her, but this incident only portrays my Mother’s sensitive nature.
I inserted this photo as it shows Pearl’s father, Pete, Aunt Lula Dove, Aunt Mag, Aunt Bee and Charley. They are somewhat older, of course, in this photo. This photo is dated “about” 1931. From l to r in birth order are Alton Burton (Burt), and Mattie( these are William Issac’s first two children, with Margaret Carr, who died quite young.) Left of Mattie, are the living children of W. I. with his second wife, Lasiphene Ware. They are Allen, [Bob-not present, but living], Pete, Jim, Lula Dove, Maggie, Bee and Charley (I want to date this photo 10 years earlier, 1921. Charley and sisters look much younger. But, Pearl looked quite young in her 40s.)
By the summer of 1907, both W. I. Thornton’s family and Pete’s family had left the Merritt N. Ware (ed. Lasiphene’s father) homestead, which was sold to the Williams in August, 1906. W. I., Lasiphene and Charley moved into a small house on the farm owned by Lula Dove and Elias Hatcher. They made this their home for some two and one-half years, where the older couple were retiring and Charley worked single-handedly maintaining the home. {ed.This move was east 20 miles to Randlett. Pearl will write extensively about returning and living here.}
Seeking land to farm, Pete and Vinie with their two small daughters left the homestead with the shelter and support of the W. I. Thornton family and arrived in Comanche County, Texas in the latter part of 1907 (or the early part of 1908). In leaving Oklahoma, we moved from a brand new state, as Oklahoma became the forty-sixth state of the United States on November 16, 1907! I do not recall the move to Comanche County, Texas, as I was only in my third year, but a few instances of permanent recall are beginning to be imprinted in my memory as my young life unfolds and progresses in its development.
(This concludes the inserted material. The next post will resume her autobiographical reports of Commanche County, Tx.)
In this section immediately following Pearl’s interesting account of settling into their new farm home, and getting ready for school, we learn of the neighbors this precocious girl of 11 year observes and describes for us. I should explain to most of you reading what a cotton gin is. It is a large building where the farmers bring their picked cotton from the fields. It is “ginned” or processed to separate the cotton from the seed and hulls, then placed in large 500 lb. bales ready for shipment to market from the farm area. This gin was very important for the farmers, as it was nearby and accessible for horse drawn wagons they used for hauling the product from field. Another remarkable fact, if Pearl’s recall is accurate, is that Billy, b. April, 1909, is now approaching 8 years of age in the Spring of this first years on Cooper Creek. So, could he be handling a three harness plow? It seems a little young, but I was driving a big International pickup 8 miles down the road and plowing all day with no supervision at age 11-12 in the early 1950s. In one family, the Hogans, there is a young fellow named Worth. Notice what his nickname is-Rusty. Pearl had a son, which Frank, our father gave this same nickname. Before that family is described, there is another family nearby which had a beautiful young daughter. Billy, Pearl’s younger brother was “struck” by her. Notice her name, Peggy. Our uncle Billy named his only daughter with this name, Pearl speculates from this fond memory of childhood. Near the end of this section, there is mention of a Noel family moving into the community with many daughters. Interesting!
Enjoy, RAN
Although this house has two stories and Pearl’s family had only one level, and was a more humble house on Cooper Creek, this gives you some flavor of the general construction in that era.
I recall those cold, crisp days of that winter immediately after we moved into the new community. We had left a comparatively flat terrain south and west of Randlett in Cotton County to move to this little home on the banks of Cooper Creek, which traversed almost the entire length of our farm.
Flowing under a moderately high bridge it moved south, winding southeasterly, making its way southward again, as it flowed not the next farm under a barbed wire fence.
Our domain was not to be this “neck of the woods” altogether, as the east field, south field and west field were all level fields. The near west field sloped toward the creek on two sides and provided a good garden spot in the bend of the creek. So, our place was comparatively level except where the creek flowed through. On the north side of the 160 acre farm the ground was level. The cotton gin and the DeFord Grocery were there with the residential buildings which belonged to them. Lank Bacon and his wife Miranda lived in the gin residence as he was the cotton gin manager. They had a small daughter, Idell, about two years of age, called Baby Dell, and Miranda’s niece, Christine Hamilton, age nine. She and I became good friends. The DeFords were not as friendly as the Bacons, we found. They were Harry and Harriet and their daughter, Peggy, age seven. Billy was “struck” with Peggy and named his only daughter Peggy, perhaps because of his acquaintance with Peggy DeFord. She was a very pretty little girl with the dark brown eyes of both parents and black curly hair. Harriet DeFord was a slender, dark-skinned woman always wearing a serious expression. Harry was a stocky man wearing glasses and a sports cap all the time. I never saw him without it.
Billy remembered a humorous incident that occurred a short while after we moved to the homestead. Our field came up to the fence surrounding the gin and store property. Papa had two horses when we came from Randlett, and he soon bought a third work animal, a mule, already named Harriet. I don’t remember the horses names but Papa put Billy to plowing on the upland near the De Ford house. He was riding a sulky plow, with a three-horse hitch, and as he plowed he would shout at the horses, calling them by name. “Get up there, Harriet, whoa, Harriet.” And so on. One day Papa came home after sitting around the store for a while and began laughing. We asked him what was funny, and he said he just discovered Mrs. DeFord’s name was Harriet! He told Billy to be careful about calling the mule’s name while plowing around the buildings up on the hill!
Up on the still higher level, on the farm across the road north from ours was Mr. Hogan. I don’t know his first name, but I can see him yet as he cruised about in the low-slung race car, wearing a driver’s cap and goggles. He was not a race car driver himself, but his son Worth, dubbed “Rusty”, dabbled some in car racing. He died early on in an automobile crash, but perhaps not in a race track. Dorothy and Dick were the two younger children. Mrs. Hogan lived in town with them, to keep them in school by the time we knew the family in 1916.
Rural school house with bell tower to call the children from play. Could be similar to Pearl’s Rita one room school.
A humorous incident is coupled with Dick Hogan’s beginning school days. He refused to attend school, and do what she might, his mother could not persuade him to go on his own. So, Mother Hogan got a good, keen switch, probably off a willow tree, and followed him part of the way to school down the hill from their house which sat back from the road, down to the bridge across the creek, to the top of the hill. Legend has it that she whipped him all the way; she probably didn’t, but under the shadow of that menacing willow switch in the hands of the persistent mother, he trudged on to school! Probably resenting the fact that he was forced to attend school, he drew a house resembling the schoolhouse. He put a brick chimney on the top with black smoke rolling out the top. In telling the teacher about his picture, he remarked that he was going to get in the stove and go up that stove pipe with the smoke and just keep going as far as the smoke would go! The impression that the teacher received was that he was referring to extending his education on and on; but I assume that he was thinking in terms of an escape.
Incidentally, he did go far in education, attending Oklahoma University and becoming an educator of some renown.
The farm east of the Hogans was leased by the Southern. Their children were out of school when we knew them. Tom Southern was the oldest of the children, Ida, the only sister, and Dewey was the youngest, a large heft, type individual. Ida was a music teacher and Papa even dreamed of having me take music lessons from her. But, we never got a piano, and intervening circumstances prevented music lessons at that time.
Across the road east of our farm lived the Floyd Taylor family. Mrs. Taylor had passed away before we knew them, but his son Arlis moved into their home and took care of them. An older daughter, Dora Taylor, was out of school, another daughter lived with relatives in Texas, but Minnie Taylor was near my age, maybe one year younger. She was the only other girl in our neighborhood until early in 1917, when the Noels moved to the adjoining farm south of us. Minnie Taylor was very friendly and was, I’m sure, a great help in orienting me as I began life in the new school.
Pearl has enjoyed her life in Randlett area and Valley View School for these last three years, beginning in November, 1913. With her facing the reality of the family moving, Pearl expresses some sadness and loss of familiar friends and some good memories. This chapter is a brief description of the household move. Momentous in that Papa Pete is now a land owner. (Ed. note: This passage of Pearl’s writing was posted in the early days of this website. It is now republished as a chapter, and placed in chronological order of Pearl’s autobiographical narrative.) Enjoy! RAN
THE MOVE TO THE HOMESTEAD
This is a 1916 Rand-McNally map of Oklahoma showing county lines and towns. Find Tillman and Cotton Counties in southwest along the Red River. The lines between towns are primarily railroad lines, not automobile or wagon roads. Some roads exits in rural areas, mostly dirt and gravel. There are also no bridges crossing the Red River for automobile and horse drawn wagon shown on this map. And we know of several mentioned in Pearl’s narrative. See map below to locate Grandfield and other towns of the two counties close-up.
Pearl is traveling from Cotton County area south of Randlett. She is traveling to a Tillman County farm 10 miles west and two miles south of Grandfield. You see it is located quite near the Red River which is mentioned several times in the coming chapters. See Frederick, the county seat of Tillman County where land deeds are signed and filed.
During the summer and fall of 1916, Papa made several trips to Tillman County, which joined Cotton County on the west. The location was some twelve miles southwest of Grandfield. Uncle Jim’s family had lived in the area and farmed land belonging to Tom Cox some few years before. Uncle Charley and Aunt Kate lived on the Cox farm at some time; they may have lived there that fall and picked cotton, but I’m not sure about that. At any rate, Papa had some contact with Mr. Tom Cox who was disposing of his land in the area to remove to Arkansas, and offered a 160 acre tract of land to Papa at a bargain price. It had belonged to Mr. Cox’s brother, and lay 10 miles west of Grandfield, and two miles south, about four miles from the Tom Cox farm.
Papa went up that fall and closed the deal. Our neighbor, Bill Linsky, drove him up in a two horse buggy, as he went with Papa on the final trip. I’m sure Mr. Cox drove Papa to Frederick, the county seat, to transact the business of transferring the deed and abstract of the land to Papa. Or, on the other hand, Papa and Bill Linsky could have driven to Frederick to Aunt Mag’s and Uncle Carthel’s and met Mr. Cox at the court house. Those details are not clear.
This 1908 photo shows an early Oklahoma cotton gin of this era. So, the general store was situated close by to take advantage of the “buggy traffic” and a convenience for the surrounding farmers. When I was a child in the 1940s there were three of these general stores within 5 miles of our farm. Two were attached to cotton gins.
I was favorably impressed when Papa and Mr. Linsky came back with praises of the farm Papa had just bought; the creek running through the farm, the sweet clear, spring water, abundant pasture for livestock, with plenty left for cultivation. There was a cotton gin and a store on the land and school was only a mile away. But…the house wasn’t much. Bill Linsky was squatting while he and Papa were describing the farm to us, out in the back yard when he spread each arm out from his sides and said, “It’s just like this; one room in the middle, a shed room on either side. Like an old hen hovering her chickens.” Then he burst into a big laugh! Mama shook her head and said, “Phew!”, remarking that the old side rooms probably leaked, said she never saw one that didn’t! But the deal was made, cotton harvest was coming to a close and we would be moving toward the end of November. Billy and I dreamed of the cool, clear, spring water and the luscious strawberries Papa would grow in the rich soil watered by the running creek close by.
According to a “perpetual” calendar which I consulted, we must have begun packing, getting everything ready to move on about Thursday, November 16. If so, we said our good-byes to Valley View School on Friday, the 17th. These were sad good-byes for me which did not go away for the remainder of that year and well into the next, as I recall. We made our 30 mile trip in our wagon and two horses, aided by Bill Linsky with his wagon and team. Mr. Floyd Anglin, our newest neighbor, came along to help to load and unload and to accompany Mr. Linsky on his return trip.
A photo of a team of horses drawing a typical farm wagon of Pearl’s current experience. The family moved in something similar with every item they owned including the chickens. In this case two wagons as the Thorntons were gaining some personal possessions.
I will never forget the last morning in Cotton County, three miles south of Randlett, in the neat, square house on the Miller place. We had all arisen before daybreak, cooked our breakfast and eaten. We had removed the hot cinders from the cook stove and carried them out to cool before emptying; thereby, the stove would be cooled off by the time we were ready to load it. Just about all the loading was done, now. I could hear the squawking of the chickens being loaded into a coop on the Linsky wagon; and now they had ceased their noises. I saw Mr. Anglin leading our milk cow from the barn to be tied behind one of the wagons. Arthur, then nearly two, was asleep. Billy and I, wrapped in our coats and caps were waiting in the kitchen. The sun had come up and was shining, as I held the sleeping baby and observed the sun shining on the vacant wall, I thought: I shall never see the sun shining on this wall again as it shines now. I felt homesick, already, as I was made aware of the finality of this move we were making. I had no idea about what the future held, only that everything would be different now.
The sun was not very high when we began our journey. Mama had packed a lunch, but I don’t recall the spot where we stopped. I only remember Billy and I riding atop the household furniture. Cricket, our small dog, may have been with us at intervals, but I’m sure he followed the wagons most of the trip.
Perhaps a moment for reflection is appropriate at this point. Papa had had three good years in Cotton County. He was, no doubt, fortunate to rent a good 160 acre farm, most of it in cultivation, and to make fair to good crops each year. We had come from poorly constructed homes to the neat four room structure with manufactured doors and real doorknobs. I know that Papa and Mama both worked hard, early and late, to make a prosperous living those three years, but there seemed to be time for recreation, as we went quite frequently to Burkburnett in Texas and to Randlett on some occasions. Mama shopped for towels, blankets, sheets, and material for our dresses and Billy’s and Arthur’s clothes. Papa had bought her a new Singer sewing machine. Besides the proceeds from the land, they grew good gardens each year and Mama raised fryers for the table, plus a few old hens to sell sometimes. She sold a few eggs and a pound of butter now and then to help buy the groceries. She was a better manager than Papa was, in my estimation. But Papa had collected enough to put a down payment on the homestead to which we were moving, to be cleared in full by an oil lease when the oil boom became a reality in that area. In addition to all of these blessings, Papa and Mama had added a new son to our family!
,Ed. note: Thus ends a transitional short episode in and reflection on, Pearl’s transition. Chapter Twenty Two will be an introduction to the new farm home and school. Lots of adventure and humor is in store! Enjoy. RAN
Most of Pearl’s writings are about life in the lower sections of Indian Territory/Oklahoma . Especially the gray (Apache) area, along the Red River close to the gray/white striped area. This brief post gives early perspective on the sad history of Indian Territory.
Trail of Tears-1830 Indian Removal Act
In presidency of President Andrew Jackson
At the beginning of the 1830s, nearly 125,000 Native Americans lived on millions of acres of land in Georgia, Tennessee, Alabama, North Carolina and Florida–land their ancestors had occupied and cultivated for generations. By the end of the decade, very few natives remained anywhere in the southeastern United States. Working on behalf of white settlers who wanted to grow cotton on the Indians’ land, the federal government forced them to leave their homelands and walk hundreds of miles to a specially designated “Indian territory” across the Mississippi River. This difficult and sometimesdeadly journeyis known as the Trail of Tears.
Pearl sat in kitchen area looking out on the farm barn and pasture with cattle grazing. Now, she has the house to herself for the first time ever!
Pearl has now successfully raised all 7 children to independent adulthood, Ray Allan, the last is now 18 years old and off to college. Tom Royce (Rusty) and family live on the farm 3/4 mile west, but she is experiencing the “empty nest” in 1958, thirty seven years after becoming a mother in 1921. The following poem is a poignant moment captured for all time.
circle 1988, all 7 children with Mama. l to r top- J.T., Mildred, Mama, Jean, June and Ray Allan; lower row-l to r- Calvin and Tom Royce (Rusty)
circa 1920, Pearl reading a letter, Frank looking on.
This is an essay Pearl wrote for an English Class assignment in the Spring term of her Freshman year at Cameron College.She was now 55 years old. This was written 7 years following Frank’s death(1953). See “About” section for details of their life together.
circa 1943, Frank and Pearl about 10 years before Frank’s death
The following is autobiographical for Pearl. This episode describes life in the recently settled, Tillman County, The Big Pasture, in the young state of Oklahoma. The rural setting is west of Grandfield 12 miles. We find an almost fourteen year old Pearl Thornton describing some difficult days from December, 1918 to April, 1920. Her community had the painful, frightening experience of two seasons of the The Spanish Flu epidemic. Since right now we all are living through a pandemic, it seemed a good way to inaugurate this website in honor of Zula Pearl Thornton Noel, better known to us as Mama and Mamagran.
l to r, Viola Noel, unknown, Pearl, circa 1918-19
Beginning of post
At home that winter (1918-1919), I remember Grandma Thornton (Elizabeth Lasaphene Ware Thornton) stayed with us. I slept with her and we would talk before going to sleep at night and one or two nights Grandma related to me the story some of her cousins had read to her (she couldn’t read). I’m not sure of the title, but I think it must have been “The Winning of Barbara Worth”, as she used the name Barbara several times in the discussion. She pronounced it Bar’-bar’-a’, and as I had not heard of the name before, I didn’t know the difference for many years, before the name became so popular. Probably, the reason for Grandma’s relating to me this story, was that I read to Grandma each day the newspaper came, the installment of the serial that was currently running in the paper. We were both anxious to be see what would happen next. I believe the story we were reading was “Tempest and Sunshine”. I don’t recall the author’s name. We discussed other interests besides stories we had read, for my age, I had many questions that I could ask no one except Grandma.
Our family had an experience that winter with “Spanish Influenza”, an epidemic of flu in its worst form. It began that winter and spread like wildfire across the entire country. It was brought into the United States by the armed forces returning from the war in Europe. The conflict was still raging, but there had been sick and wounded returning to military hospitals who had introduced the disease into this country. It was so distressfully weakening to the human body, sapping all resistance, until pneumonia was the result of many who were attacked, causing death. Statistics proved that not a great number died of the influenza alone, but critical illness infected those who were weakened by the diseased. Surprisingly, to many who became ill, they were not afflicted by the common cold, as they were accustomed to in the case of the “grip”. (I believer that a man named LaGrippe had discovered this disease earlier in the century). But, the greatest problem was a lack of knowledge treating this new disease. Pneumonia could be treated, but until pneumonia developed, other remedy seemed useless. The conclusion among doctors was that the patient should prevent unnecessary exposure, take aspirin , consume a liquid diet and wait!
The disease travelled through our family, but no one was seriously ill. No cases of pneumonia, just some colds. Papa, refusing to stay in bed, sat in the rocking chair, wrapped in a blanket by the heater, deliriously talking, singing, frightening us children, but Mama and Grandma did what they could for him, explaining to us that he always was like this with fever- and fever and a terrific aching sensation did accompany Spanish Influenza.
In the spring we had another epidemic assail our neighborhoods, but only our family and one other were afflicted. Mama was really sick. She broke out in large eruptions on the skin, with fever and vomiting. It was necessary to seek medical advice, diagnosis and treatment. Dr. Wright from Grandfield, twelve miles away, made a house call, and told Mama she had small pox! She was not surprised, as she was so dreadfully ill, although none of the rest of us were really sick. Neither Papa nor Grandma suffered any effects, nor did Arthur, aged four. Billy had a breaking out of the skin a few days earlier but went on to school as usual. I had a half-dozen eruptions on my arms which the doctor inspected, and I had been n nauseated and vomited the night before. Dr Wright said that I had the small-pox, and although a light case, I would be immunized for life. He gave the others the immunization shots, quarantined us for twenty-one days and left. I don’t know what type of medication the doctor left for Mama, but she was so sick she stayed with the bed for several days.
—This is a leap from Spring, 1919 to Fall, 1919—
( For context, paragraph 3 below mentions the Noel families. They are in two homes just south of the Thornton farm, about 1/2 mile. Widow Amanda Jane has five children (Viola, Lona, Oma, Lavada, and David) living at home along with a married son, Austin and his wife. Austin and his wife were absent from the house. Amanda Jane’s oldest son, Frank and his young expectant wife Lola, lived across the road.)
“The Garners who moved across from the Thorntons had four children in school, and two older boys already out of school. Moody Garner, the oldest of the children attending school, was a cute little guy, younger by two years than I, but rather large for his age. I liked him very much-not really as a boyfriend, but I felt drawn to him, and spoke to him frequently, although, he was very shy.
That winter in early 1920 the Spanish Influenza went on another rampage, becoming epidemic, as bad or worse than the year before. Our family was not afflicted this time, as many others were not, who had had the disease , which immunized them against the scourge this time. Many of our neighbors came down with the “flu”, as it came to be called. Ab Davidson, our friend, a mile and a half away, called Papa one day.
“Pete, you had the flu last winter, didn’t you? Well, tell me how it works. I don’t seem to have a cold, but I’ve got something!” It turned out to be the “flu”. This was earlier on in the season. The Noel family were all down with the disease at the same time. Austin Noel and his wife, Lillie, who lived with Mrs. Noel’s family, were visiting at Davidson, Oklahoma, with her mother who had the “flu”, and maybe pneumonia. Mrs. Noel and her children were all sick. Mrs. Noel’s oldest son, Frank and wife, Lola, lived across the road from her. They were both in bed with the flu. Mr. Davidson, now immune from the disease, walked the three-quarter mile away to check on them.
Mama Betty was concerned, but she was not robust health herself, and had Arthur, five years old, whom she couldn’t take to a sick room. So, one day, I think on Sunday afternoon, Mama sent me over to the Noels to see if I could help. I went to Mrs. Noel’s house first, and found them improving; all weak, not very hungry, sort of helping themselves and each other. Mrs. Noel sent me up to Frank’s and Lola’s to see what they needed. They were in the northwest corner of the living room in a bed together. I recall-refilling a water glass for them, but they wanted nothing to eat at this point. Lola was coughing slightly and told Frank that she felt pain when she coughed. I soon left, went back by Mrs. Noel’s for a few minutes, then back home. I told Mama how they were, and she was afraid for Lola, as she know that she was several months into a pregnancy and influenza was often fatal for women in this condition, especially if pneumonia was contracted, too.
Mr. Davidson came to the Frank Noel’s home later that day and saw that Lola desperately needed medical attention, so he went home and called Dr Fuqua in Grandfield. When the doctor made his examination, he found that Lola did have pneumonia. Others in attendance at the two homes, decided to move Frank to his mother’s homes as he was some better, although, his case was watched closely due to his heart condition. But, in spite of all that could be done, Lola Wood Colyer Noel died on February 11, 1920, on Wednesday following my visit to them on Sunday.
Frank and Lola (Colyer) Noel, circa 1916 probably at the time of their wedding.
School at Rita was upset and in turmoil as Miss Katherine was down with influenza, as well as a great portion of the student body. Then, we received the sad news that our little schoolmate, Moody Garner, had died of complications resulting from influenza and a chronic kidney disease. I believe he died on February 12, the day after Lola died.
Miss Thelma Thompson, the elementary teacher was keeping the classes as best she could. St. Valentine’s Day was coming up the following Saturday, so we would have our Valentine Box on Friday afternoon. She and we older girls worked at recess time making Valentines, as no one had been able to obtain any store-bought ones. Miss Thompson taught us to make interesting Valentines from construction paper, water colors and Crayolas, using any and all pictures we could find from magazines. We even became quite adept as we created those Valentines and even wrote poetic verses on them. There was some joy, but I still feel the heaviness that hung over us was the loss by death of these two who were close to us as classmate and neighbor!
At Friday morning assembly, Miss Thompson would favor us with the currently popular songs which we had not the opportunity to learn. She sang, to the delight of us older girls, “I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles”, “Smiles”, “Til We Meet Again”, which was actually a war song, but still popular in our area. A few persons in the community had record players. Mrs. Tom Harrison, the country store proprietor’s wife, was one. I recall one day when I , together with some other friends, sat in Mrs. Harrison’s living room listening to some of the new popular songs, when a pair of “sweethearts” strolled up to the front porch and asked Mrs. Harrison if she had “Smiles”. She answered in the affirmative, and the two young lovers stood outside there on the porch and listened intently, while their heads bowed, to the beautiful love song. They were married some months later. We young girls enjoyed that scene very much!”
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The portrait Pearl is describing that hung above Papa’s Camelback Trunk. You have seen it in past posts: Margaret M. Watts, Vinie’s mother.
