Many  pioneers  have left a great legacy in the stories of their lives they have told
to  their  families  and  friends.  It is even better when, by hook or crook, some of
these  stories  are  recorded  and shared. I had the privilege of listening to Buster
Zachry  several  years  ago  as he and I sat at the table after lunch at the Petrolia
Senior  Citizens’  Center  with  a  little  tape  recorder going. The following is an
abridged  account of some of his stories. The full script is in our book, "It Used to
Be  That  Way:  Remembered  Bits  of Clay County History," available at the museum. -
Lucille Glasgow

"I’m  Buster  Zachry - that’s a nickname. My real name is H.C. Zachry - Henry Clement
Zachry.  I  was  born  March 26, 1906, in Henrietta but we lived over at Benvanue. My
parents were H. C. and Dora Lea (Frey) Zachry.

"My  mother’s  people  -  Grandpa  Frey  -  came when he was a boy in about 1872 from
Louisiana.  He  ran away from home and came with a wagon train when he was a boy. The
wagon  train came through Cambridge on the way west. He got out of it - said this was
as  far  as  he was going to come. He went to work for old man Whaley, who grew oats,
hauled them to Ft. Sill and sold them to the army."

"We lived in Petrolia for a time, where I started to school in 1912. During this time
my  sister  Willie  Faye taught school in Petrolia and out southwest at Kempner (just
east of the Broday Ranch).

"There’s  an  old  rock house out there, still there, where an old bachelor lived. He
sold  a  bunch of steers and had $200,000. Someone robbed him and killed him there by
the  fireplace.  They  never  did  know  who did it. Lots of money hunters went there
later.  There’re  big  holes  around  that  house. The bachelor had been in the war -
Spanish American, I guess - anyway, a way back. He was an old man when he was killed.
My  grandpa  always  told  to our family that a fellow that lived near where the Lone
Star  Plant is now went over there and killed him and robbed him. I don’t know how he
knew it or anything. He never would call any names.

"In  1915 my dad and Grandpa went together and bought 2 sections of land up by Happy,
Texas, out on the Plains. My dad and another fellow drove a bunch of horses up there.
It  was  all  grass  land  -  not  much  plowed up. They thought it was good ranching
country;  it  had good mesquite grass on it but the winters were too cold. You had to
feed  the stock all year long. You could ride over a four-wire fence out there in the
winter time when the snow drifted up over the fences.

"My  dad kept the land several years after he moved away from it - got $37.50 an acre
that  he  gave  $7.00 for. Made a little money that way. Happy is about 20 miles from
Canyon  toward Lubbock. After we left there, they found irrigation water and the land
is now in irrigated farming.

"When  we  came  back,  Grandpa bought a place this side of Henrietta on Turkey Creek
called  the  Yellow  House  Place.  We  lived  there  for  2 years before we moved to
Petrolia.  I believe Katherine, my youngest sister, and Claud and Carl went to Willow
Springs School. They drove a mule to a buggy. Elsie was going to school in Henrietta,
where she later finished. She stayed in Henrietta with Grandpa and Grandma Frey.

"Grandpa and Grandma raised and educated 6 of their grand kids.

"They came out on the Plains to visit us one summer. They had a Buick car and let the
tops  down,  had  a  big seat in the back. They just loaded those kids in and went on
that route to Amarillo by way of Claude. Grandpa and Grandma use to stay all night at
the Goodnight Ranch with Colonel Goodnight.

"When  we  came  off  the Plains and moved back down here, we had 2 train carloads of
stuff  -  one of furniture and farm implements and I think Mama had some chickens and
geese  in  there  too,  and one carload of horses. You are allowed one person to ride
with  the stock in the boxcar - in the caboose you called it - that’s where you rode.
Papa  was  going  to pass me - I was going to ride in the furniture car and he in the
caboose.  Papa  fixed  me a good place to lie. When I got in it, I got my head bumped
because it was right up in the top of the boxcar.

"We  drove  the  horses up to the stock pens and loaded them into the boxcars. It was
evening  when we loaded and I got in there and hid. We got into Amarillo in the night
and  it  was  real cold weather, a few days before Christmas. They switched us around
there  until  daylight. We started out on down toward Childress there on the railroad
the next morning.

"I didn’t know it, but a brakie crawled in there when they were running and found me.
When  I  woke up he was shining a light in my face. He wanted to know if was the only
one in there and I told him, ‘yeah!’ He never said any more to me.

"When  the  train pulled aside down at Childress to let a passenger train go by, Papa
came  up  to  where I was and told me to get out, that they had caught me. The brakie
that  had caught me wanted Papa to pay him to let me go on. Papa told him no and told
me  to  go  on  down  to  the depot and get a ticket and ride the passenger train. So
that’s what I did.

"I  had  another  experience  on  the railroad after we came back from the Plains. We
lived north of Henrietta on the yellow house place and I had cowboyed with Bud Frey a
lot  when  I was a boy. He and his wife Mamie had a ranch down at Big Lake out by San
Angelo. I went out there and worked through the summer. The fall of the year came and
Bud  wanted to buy some cattle from a woman out there who had a bunch to sell - about
30  miles  you had to drive them to town. He wanted us to bring them back here to the
yellow house place - 3 carloads of them.

"We  loaded  up out there; I went out with my saddle and horse and drove these cattle
about  40 miles. I was just one of the bunch helping. We loaded them at Big Lake on a
car to ship them out. Mamie was going on back to the house and I told her to bring my
suitcase, that I was going home.

"I  got  on that train and went into San Angelo that night. The next morning I had to
get  off somewhere to get breakfast. I got with this old brakie. We’d walk cars - the
train running at the time. We walked the tops of the cars to the engine. You see, you
rode  in the caboose and if you’d got off there, you’d never catch the train again or
you’d have to walk a long way. They had a café in the railroad yard. We ate breakfast
and  got back on the train. I went on in to Quanah, I believe it was, or Chillicothe,
to get this Ft. Worth and Denver Railroad. It was in the night. The depots were plumb
across  town  from  each other even if the town wasn’t very big. They were about one-
half  to  a mile apart. I had to carry my suitcase and go afoot across from one depot
to another to catch the train. They switched my cattle on to the other railroad.

"When  I got over to the Ft. Worth and Denver Railroad, the train was pulling out and
had up pretty good speed. I was on the side of the railroad when the caboose came by.
I  threw  my  suitcase  in and grabbed the hand rail on the side. When I got in I was
mad, I guess, because I didn’t like the way they had done me. Anyway I said something
about it to that brakie and he said, ‘Oh, you’re mad’-it was about midnight - ‘get up
here and unroll my bed roll and go to sleep.’

"I  got to Wichita Falls up there on 7th Street, where you cross all those railroads.
I  got  off  and  the  old  brakie  said,  ‘Just stand right here between tracks. The
train’ll be in in just a few minutes.’

"I  was standing there and these trains got to running, one one way and one the other
way.  I  could  have  touched  them  with  my arms. I couldn’t stand up because I was
getting  dizzy  -  I  always was a dizzy headed fellow. I had to sit down there by my
suitcase.  Of  course,  that  leveled  me  up  and  we got into Henrietta that coming
morning.  I  had  had one meal from the time I left San Angelo on Friday until Monday
morning.  What  you  were  supposed  to  do  was  get  a lunch or carry some fruit or
something. If it had not been for that brakie carrying me up to that café, I wouldn’t
have had any.

"We  didn’t  change  lines  in  Wichita but they kept wanting me to sign a release to
unload  the  cattle  in Wichita. They had to unload the cattle ever so often for feed
and  water.  I  wouldn’t  let  them unload the cattle in Wichita since it was only 18
miles  to Henrietta. There would have been a big bill for feed, water and time. I was
about 16 or 17 at that time.

"I  had  another  experience  on  the railroad after we came back from the Plains. We
lived north of Henrietta on the yellow house place and I had cowboyed with Bud Frey a
lot  when  I was a boy. He and his wife Mamie had a ranch down at Big Lake out by San
Angelo. I went out there and worked through the summer. The fall of the year came and
Bud  wanted to buy some cattle from a woman out there who had a bunch to sell - about
30  miles  you had to drive them to town. He wanted us to bring them back here to the
yellow house place - 3 carloads of them.

"We  loaded  up out there; I went out with my saddle and horse and drove these cattle
about  40 miles. I was just one of the bunch helping. We loaded them at Big Lake on a
car to ship them out. Mamie was going on back to the house and I told her to bring my
suitcase, that I was going home.

"I  got  on that train and went into San Angelo that night. The next morning I had to
get  off somewhere to get breakfast. I got with this old brakie. We’d walk cars - the
train running at the time. We walked the tops of the cars to the engine. You see, you
rode  in the caboose and if you’d got off there, you’d never catch the train again or
you’d have to walk a long way. They had a café in the railroad yard. We ate breakfast
and  got back on the train. I went on in to Quanah, I believe it was, or Chillicothe,
to get this Ft. Worth and Denver Railroad. It was in the night. The depots were plumb
across  town  from  each other even if the town wasn’t very big. They were about one-
half  to  a mile apart. I had to carry my suitcase and go afoot across from one depot
to another to catch the train. They switched my cattle on to the other railroad.

"When  I got over to the Ft. Worth and Denver Railroad, the train was pulling out and
had up pretty good speed. I was on the side of the railroad when the caboose came by.
I  threw  my  suitcase  in and grabbed the hand rail on the side. When I got in I was
mad, I guess, because I didn’t like the way they had done me. Anyway I said something
about it to that brakie and he said, ‘Oh, you’re mad’-it was about midnight - ‘get up
here and unroll my bed roll and go to sleep.’

"I  got to Wichita Falls up there on 7th Street, where you cross all those railroads.
I  got  off  and  the  old  brakie  said,  ‘Just stand right here between tracks. The
train’ll be in in just a few minutes.’

"I  was standing there and these trains got to running, one one way and one the other
way.  I  could  have  touched  them  with  my arms. I couldn’t stand up because I was
getting  dizzy  -  I  always was a dizzy headed fellow. I had to sit down there by my
suitcase.  Of  course,  that  leveled  me  up  and  we got into Henrietta that coming
morning.  I  had  had one meal from the time I left San Angelo on Friday until Monday
morning.  What  you  were  supposed  to  do  was  get  a lunch or carry some fruit or
something. If it had not been for that brakie carrying me up to that café, I wouldn’t
have had any.

"We  didn’t  change  lines  in  Wichita but they kept wanting me to sign a release to
unload  the  cattle  in Wichita. They had to unload the cattle ever so often for feed
and  water.  I  wouldn’t  let  them unload the cattle in Wichita since it was only 18
miles  to Henrietta. There would have been a big bill for feed, water and time. I was
about 16 or 17 at that time.

"One  experience  I  had  with a team was a close call. My brother and I were hauling
some  posts  off  that Stanfield place - about 1930, I guess. We were back over there
and  got  some  posts off the Mexicans and loaded the wagon down. We had to drive the
wagon  winding  through  the  post  oaks about a mile. The team got scared and got to
running.  I slid off the posts onto the ground but I still had the lines in my hands.
I  jumped  off  with my lines in my hand and ran alongside as long as I could keep up
with  them. I turned them loose and tried to jump back on the wagon and get hold with
my  arms.  I missed the wagon - really the wagon beam, or the brake beam. I missed it
and  when I did my foot went down in there and when it did it threw me to the ground.
The  mules  were  running about as fast as they could and they were dragging me. They
were  running  by  those  big  old  oak  trees with me just barely missing them. They
dragged  me  about 1/8 th of a mile. I kept twisting my body to get my foot loose. It
finally did and then the wagon wheel ran over me.

"Of course, Everett was trying to do something for me. I was hollering. The team came
out  where  about  100  Mexicans  were  grubbing. They saw what was happening and all
gathered  around  and  stopped  the  mules. That was a pretty close call. This was at
Stanfield. When they settled it up down there, my dad bought a place there in 1930.

"Out  on  the  Plains  one  time I helped a fellow drive 900 steers from Vigo Park to
Happy.  It was 12 miles down to our place and they strung out for 12 miles. It took 4
or 5 cowboys to handle that size herd.

"One  time when I was working for Bowman when we lived out where I live now (south of
Petrolia),  he bought 700 calves at Crowell, cut them off the cows up there, put them
into  boxcars  and  shipped them down here. They unloaded them at Dean and 15 cowboys
drove  them  down  to  the  other  place - the rock house that Freys own now. When we
turned  them  out  of the pens at Dean, we milled them in a circle for about an hour,
then  headed  them  this  way.  I remember Claudie was along and Mutt Haney...(He was
killed in a car wreck; he was the oldest one of the Haney boys.)

"Homer  Lyde  and I worked for Bud Frey up there at Kamay. We were driving a bunch of
horses,  about  75,  on that Beaver Creek Bridge. About ½ of them missed the bridge -
went off the bridge and down the creek. I went off to get them and my horse fell down
in  a  big  briar  thicket.  This horse I was riding was crazy. The other horses were
running  and nickering. He was down on my leg. He started to get up. I saw my leg was
caught  in  the  stirrup with a bunch of briars around it. I had to take my two hands
and  pull  the  briars  loose  before  I  could get loose and pull my foot out of the
stirrup.  This  bloodied  my hands since I didn’t have gloves on. The horse got loose
and I started walking toward the bridge. I couldn’t see 100 yards with the briars and
things so thick. Homer came to me after the empty horse went to him. We were bringing
these  horses  from  Burnett  off  the  Triangle  Ranch up at Iowa Park. Bud had this
leased. He was the only man that ever leased any land from Burnett - 8 or 9000 acres.

"I  had  this  old horse that you just could hardly break. We were getting the cattle
off  that Burnett Ranch. I rode that old horse 16 days without changing horses - from
sun  till  sun.  I broke him. Bud kept telling me to turn him loose and catch another
one.  I told him no, I was going to break this one. I’d wash his back off and pet him
around - he had a back sore. This was in the ‘40's.

"My father was born in East Texas, down there at Tyler. Their farm in later years was
the  rose  garden  down  there. Dad and his brothers came to Clay County in a covered
wagon in the summers to pick cotton for several years before they moved up here about
1875.

"When  my  dad  married  in 1902, he worked for the Byers Brothers Ranch. He rode the
Wichita  River  all  the time in the spring. The cattle would bog down. There were 31
miles  of  the river, counting the bends. He’d pull the cattle out of the bogs in the
heel fly time.

"I  had  an uncle, Gene Zachry, a single fellow, who cooked for the Byers Ranch. When
Suggs  Brothers  had  the  land  across the river in Oklahoma, in spring round up the
Byers  Brothers would send him and Dad over there to work with them, maybe a month or
two. He cooked and Dad rode. They went to round up some horses starting at Lawton and
drove  them to the round-up grounds at Waurika, where the sale barn is today, on that
high  hill.  One  time  they  were after this bunch of horses - 5,000 of them; little
colts would be so young they would fall out and die.

"There’s  a  little town of Sugden between Ryan and Waurika. I remember my dad saying
he  and  another fellow spent a winter there in a half dugout. They were cutting wood
to run the gin.

"When they had the drawing at Lawton for land, my dad got 160 acres. O course, he had
to  prove  up on it. This meant he had to build something on it and live there a year
or  two. Right south of the fish place by Waurika (Bill’s), he built a half dugout on
a  high  hill.  He kept it 2 or 3 years and sold it to his brother, because he didn’t
like  living over there in Oklahoma. The property was later sold to the man who owned
the picture show in Waurika.

"Grandpa  and  Great Uncle Mallis lived up at Benvanue on the old Fort Sill Road that
ran from Jacksboro to Henrietta out through Hurnville past Grandpa’s place, up by the
Benvanue  Cemetery and then across Red River, where there was a ferry. This ferry was
run by different people - Mr. Jim Dunn was the last one to run it

"Grandpa  and  Uncle  Mallis  died  fairly close together and were buried in Benvanue
Cemetery without tombstones until 95 years later when I put them up in 1986.

"Grandpa  Zachry  had bought this place from this fellow Eustis at Henrietta, who had
contracted  with  the  government for 100,000 acres to sell to settlers. You did this
instead of filing as was the custom in New Mexico and other places west of here. They
paid $1 per acre. Grandpa Zachry had to build a house on it.

I  think  the  Byers  Ranch was bought for $1 per acre. It first belonged to a fellow
named  Acres.  Then he lost it. He was the same person who had lived in the log cabin
and  owned  the  land  that  Grandpa  Frey  later  bought from him. Two of Mr. Acres’
children  are buried somewhere out on the place on land that has been plowed up. This
is  the  place  a  mile east of my house now, also east of the Frey rock house on the
Petrolia-Henrietta Highway that has the old round barn on it.

"At  the present time (1987), Dale Burrus and Ralph Coburn own part of the old Zachry
place that my grandpa had. My dad used to work for the Burrus family to help with the
kids when Loma (Mrs. Fred McNeeley) and Dale were little. My dad made the remark that
Dale was the best man he ever knew but he was the meanest kid he ever saw when he was
little.

"Petrolia  used  to have a bank where the grocery store is now - someone earlier than
Herbert  Perkins.  When  Mr. Perkins was here, his brother was with him. There were 2
lumber  yards,  a picture show, a butcher shop here when I was a kid around town. The
milk cows and horses all ran out then; wagons and buggies were on the streets.

"Doctors  and  lawyers  -  in  other words, the rich people - had the cars. Also some
ranchers  had  them. Grandpa Frey bought a big old gray Michigan. One day he drove it
over to Petrolia, where we lived at the time. I was just a kid and he wanted to carry
us  over  to Byers. He drove it up to old Doc Cates’ drugstore, where we were sitting
out  on  the sidewalk. He said he’d drive us to Byers, to get in. We drove over there
and back to Petrolia. That was about 1912 when I was about 6. It was a big thrill.

"Out  on  the road the horses would be scared as the cars passed them. The roads were
just  old  dirt  roads which each landowner had to work a portion of or be fined. The
roads went through pastures and every which way.

"To  go  to  Henrietta,  you  went  on the old Ft. Sill Road by way of Hurnville. The
Charlie  road  went  through  Kempner and crossed the Wichita River on a rocky bottom
about where the Charlie bridge is now.

"I have this clipping about a robbery that happened over at Geronimo, Oklahoma. These
fellows  robbed a stage of $20,000. It was said they buried the money over at Charlie
before  they  were caught and sentenced to the penitentiary. When they got out, a big
hole  was  found  in these people’s yard. Everybody thought the robbers had come back
and dug up the money while the family was gone from home.

"A  Mr.  Whaley  was one of the first settlers along Red River. He had 4 or 5 fellows
that  lived  up  where Wichita is now on that creek. They were shocking oats when the
Indians came in on them and killed several of the white men. The rest of them crossed
Red River and came back in at the ranch closer to where Byers now is.

"Back  before  they  had barbed wire, they used to dig a ditch around their fields to
keep  the  buffalo, deer and antelope from getting their crops. They could do it with
pick and shovel because they had more time than anything else.

"My mother said she went on many an antelope hunt on this hill over between here (his
home  southeast  of Petrolia) and Byers. That was when we lived in the log house down
on the Frey place.

"Mama  said  whenever there was an Indian scare, Grandma Frey would take her 2 little
kids  and hide down in the creek. This was when she was living on the Frey place east
of  my  present place. Aunt Verdie Frey Hill told me about Quanah Parker riding up to
see  Grandpa one day, that they were good friends. He was on a little old gray horse.
Grandpa wasn’t home.

"The  Indians  were always friendly with Donley Suddath. Every time they came over to
Henrietta  he’d  take  them  out  and  feed  them a big meal because they were always
hungry.

"Grandpa  Frey told me one time he was out on the Plains somewhere by himself. It was
raining  so  he  got down under this rock cliff. He could hear a panther hollering up
the creek and one answering down the creek all night long.

"In  1925,  Grandpa  Frey  and  I  went to Wichita to get a bunch of cattle - about 2
carloads  -  that were going to be shipped in from Bud’s ranch in Big Lake. We had to
stay  up  there  2  or  3 days to wait on them. We were riding around in Wichita when
Grandpa  said, ‘Let’s go over here where I used to cross the river when I was hauling
buffalo  hides  from out on the Plains before there was ever a house up there, just a
crossing  on the Wichita River out there north of town.’ The crossing was about where
Wiley  Wolf  had  an elevator by the old Ohio Street Bridge. We got the cattle in and
started  to  drive  them  out. My horse got scared from the whistle of the trains and
started  running  in  front  of a grocery store and knocked a man down and almost ran
over him. We brought the cattle on over to Henrietta.

"One  time  I  was  working  on the ranch out by Dundee. I rode from 6 miles south of
Dundee  from  the  Woodrum  Ranch that Freys had leased out there through Wichita out
here  to  Petrolia  -  65 miles from sun to sun on horseback. I came down the Seymour
Highway and 7th Street out by the ball park. I was by myself on one horse and leading
another. Elsie, my sister, was in the old clinic hospital at the time. Out front were
a  bare  lot  and some sign boards. I tied my horses out there and went in to see her
for about 30 minutes. I was about 17 or 18 then.

"I  was  with  Grandpa  Frey  when  he was fatally injured in 1925. We were driving a
registered  bull  from  the Billy Myers Ranch at Bluegrove to the Frey Ranch north of
Henrietta.  We  got over there to Henrietta to the feed lots by the oil mill. We were
trying  to  drive him away from the fence. Grandpa loped his horse up and he stumbled
and  fell on Grandpa. He crawled up the fence when he got up. He said he wasn’t hurt,
but  he sat down on the ground and I went for help. There were 2 fellows sitting in a
car  up  by the oil mill. We carried him up to the house to Grandma. He lived about 2
days and then died.

"Jesse  James was supposed to be over at Henrietta to speak at the school house. This
was right after Clara and I married. We heard him speak and later asked Joe Douthitt,
at  whose  house  he  had spent the night, if it really was Jesse James. Mr. Douthitt
said  if  it  wasn’t  Jesse James, he certainly knew a lot about him. Jesse told that
he’d  come  across  Red River lots of nights and had drunk cold buttermilk out of the
spring over at Whaley’s ranch. Charlie Dawson, the old blacksmith over at Henrietta -
he was kin to my mother’s folks - said he’d shod Jesse James’s horses many a time. He
said  Jesse  would  come  to Wichita Falls to see his sister, a Mrs. Palmer, and then
come  to  Henrietta  to  get his horses shod. There is supposed to be some kin of his
buried  up  at the old Riverside Cemetery and every Memorial Day someone puts flowers
on the grave. I’ve never been to the grave but I’ve had someone tell me that.

"In  the  early  days  of ranching, to ship cattle, you just drove the calves and the
cows  to  a railroad. Then you’d drive the cows back home. The cows would bawl around
several  days,  find  out  the  calves weren’t there and then go back to the railroad
unless  you  put them into a lot. You drove across country through people’s pastures.
Sometimes  you ran into trouble and sometimes you didn’t. Winter feed was cotton seed
and hay that had been stacked loose, not baled as it is today.

"Sometimes the ranchers - the Douthitts, Burruses, and the Freys - would get together
and  move  their cattle across the river into Oklahoma in the summer time to graze on
Indian  lands. In a museum up at Lawton, there is a picture of Chief White Horse, and
it  quotes  him  as  saying  he  burned  Henrietta down at a certain date. I remember
Grandma  saying  Henrietta had been burned and no one came back until after the Civil
War. A fellow by the name of Koosier was killed during the raid.

"There  used  to  be  an old rock out on this side of the cemetery at Henrietta up on
that  mound  - somebody has rolled it off with a bulldozer now. Grandma told how they
took  this  horse thief out to this rock and hanged him - how he sat on his coffin on
the wagon on the way out there and smoked a cigar."

The  following  was  copied  from  a paper in the possession of Buster Zachry when he
narrated  the  above. It was written by Arthur Slagle in 1961 as Henry Zachry told it
to him.

"Henry  Zachry  states that he was in the Oklahoma drawing for land during the summer
of  1901  at  the  Fort Sill government post north of the present town of Lawton. Two
drawings  were  held, one for land to the north of about 60,00 acres, the other south
for  about  that  number  of acres. He went to Fort Sill and registered. Each man was
allowed  160 acres, provided he owned no other land. Zachry drew 160 acres just north
of  Red  River  near  the present highway bridge to Waurika, straight east of the old
Stine house in Texas.

"He  and  several  others camped near Fort Sill. The party consisted of Harry Brandt,
Albert  Butler,  Whaley,  Hugh  Callaway,  Arthur Thompson. Two out of the bunch drew
land.  Henry  Zachry had number 5360 and Hugh Callawy drew 160 acres. Zachry filed in
September and then went on to the land. He had to live there 14 months. He lived in a
half-dugout  for the allotted time. He finally sold the 160 acres after five years to
his brother, J.S. Zachry."