A GENTLE GRANDFATHER

Grandfather Whit Wade was a very gentle person. He was respected not only by his family but by all that ever knew him. Grandpaw Whit would in earlier years while all his children were at home have different ways of saying things to them. Sometime he would say "you boys" do such and so. One certain son knew that meant him and he would go do that. Then when he would say "one of you boys go feed the mules" this was the signal for one of the other sons to go do this errand. He had several different ways to tell the large bunch of sons to do thus and such a job. The boys between themselves picked a name for themselves. One was "you boys." Another name was "one of you boys" and on down the line. My Dad told me of this in later years and how interesting it was how the bunch of boys worked out each of the things to be done.

GRANNY ADD

Aunt Add (add the way you pronounced her name), as she was known by people far and near. People that was no kin to Granny Wade called her Aunt Add. She was a real person, rugged and fit for every occasion whatever the case might be. When my father's mother died when he was 10 months old, Aunt Add took my Dad home with her and cared for him just as if he were her own. Granny Betty Elizabeth was her sister and in a short time after her death Granny Add and Grandpaw Whit Wade married. In our day now some would say just waiting for another woman. NO NO never the case. The life was so rugged and the need so great that people back then married not only for companionship and love but also for the need of the overall family. There was a bunch of children at Grandpaw's home and MY DAD A TINY BABY and needed a nurse and care immediately. No one so precious and loving as Granny Wade. She raised the first set of children and her children right along together and never a cross word or quarrel that I ever heard of in my entire life. She treated them all just the same. No difference in any of the children.

One day the children came running in to Granny Wade and said "mama, the dogs are barking and hurting a little calf down at the barn." Granny rushed down to save the little calf. It was a nice deer that the dogs had chased up in the corner of the fence at the barn. Granny took a pole ax (a pole ax was sharp on one edge and square on the other side) and killed the deer. They all got in and dressed the deer and had fine venison for supper that night. People in later years run to the store with plenty of money any and all times for any choice meat. But in those days it was a completely different story. They had no refrigeration and could use the deer and likely divided with neighbors so as not to let any go to waste or spoil.

Granny could out-fish anyone on the place. She could take her willow branch pole and go down on Rocky Branch and catch plenty of fine perch for the family and she did feed the family fresh fish this way many times. Not only did she love it but the family enjoyed the fish. In those days the little streams like Rocky Branch had plenty of fish. Granny was the best.

When we went to Granny's house while living at Latch, which we did the first 7 or 8 years of my life, many many times, Granny was always sweet to all. Had a large orchard with plenty of fruit or jelly and preserves in winter. She was a real provider for the large family of more than a dozen at home.

Granny saw that we children had a good time, provided things we liked to do and saw that we were cared for. One of the greatest rugged people that ever lived. Many hardships, many trials, but always cheerful. Never did I hear of her fussing at anyone in my life. She lived as she wanted others to treat her and all around her to be treated—with love, care, tenderness, love and attention always.

Her name was Eary Airy Edro Entrest Ann Gear Knight Wade, but known by all far and near as Aunt Add because she was near kin to all she ever knew in her life.

DAD'S COURAGE

Dad had the most tremendous courage of anyone I ever saw. He owed $1,700 after the death of Mrs. Ola with her cancer. That was like many many times that much now. Mr. Latch promised to deed the 80 acres at Latch to Dad if he would sell his fine 40 acre improved farm at Rosewood. But after the death of Mrs. Ola they made it to Mrs. Ola and her heirs. And they all but cut Dad out. Many times the rains would sandbar the freshly-planted cotton and we had to replant the seed. He never would complain or say a word but go to work with great enthusiasm to replant. After our crop washed away with the flood at Pounds Farm at Lone Mountain he still had the most courage I ever saw. "Next year we will make it fine." Always looking on the bright side of things. Never fussing at family or about the crop. Just about a historical event if Dad ever fussed.

THE OLD TIME HARVESTING CRADLE

When I was 9 years old at Simmons, Dad planted a large field of oats. I guess it to be maybe 10 acres. When you harvest that much feed grain by hand that is a lot of field to work and harvest. What we mean by broadcast it is it is solid with oats and not in rows such as you plow between the rows in corn or cotton. When the field was beautiful with the waving oats it was time to cut and harvest then. Many have seen waving fields of wheat which is very similar. I don't know where Dad got the old time harvesting cradle but in 1929 things was still different from now. A harvesting cradle has a long crook of a handle somewhat 8 or maybe 10 feet long. At the very end of the long staff is a solid blade cutting knife about 5 feet long, razor sharp. Just above or behind the cutting knife is what they called the cradle. It was several long prong-like pieces of light wood making a large fork of a concern. Dad would swing this long knife around in a long circular motion letting the oats and stalk fall on the large rack. Swing this hard with both hands, then holding the cradle with left hand swooping the straw out with right hand and making a small bundle or roll so to speak, then laying this roll or bundle on the row along the way continuing all day long until near the end of the day going back gathering the small bundles, making much larger bundles or rolls you might call them. Then later come in the wagon and haul the bundles of grain in the old time wagon into the barn for cow and horse feed. I don't see how any man could be strong enough to sling this large cradle all day long. It was terribly hard work but my Dad could do it. Many of the old-time people were very very strong from making, and as they called it in old times, mauling rails all day as young men. Made them exceptionally strong.

Mauling Rails

Back in the early days there was no wire or very little barbed wire. And what was available was expensive for people. They made long hex-shaped rails by splitting a long log in several pieces. This is done with an ax and home-made wedges and homemade gluts, as they called them. The glut was a large end on the end of a long handle so to speak. They hewed down the handle part leaving a sinolen end or say a large end on it making a home-made sledge hammer to hit the home-made wedges with. This hard mauling all day long jarred a man’s body almost to pieces. Not all men could maul rails all day long. Dad and his Dad before him could maul rails all day long.

Boards for a House

Every place we ever lived in our life had to have all kinds of improvements. We worked hard getting picket palens split by hand and old time house and barn boards split by hand to cover things with. The pickets were for the garden fence. Boards for top of buildings. Dad many times would go to woods to get the timber and use the old FROE by hand and make the boards for covering the house or barn. This was done with the froe placed at the proper spacing on the fine timber and hit with the home-made slut. Described as being used making fence rails. Hit the froe and then pull the 18" handle toward him, then hit, pull handle to him and on until a beautiful shingle-like piece of lumber was made by hand for roof covering. I have seen Dad do this many many times. I don' guess us kids was much help. We were either in school or too small to do much. But again this was hard work.

THE BONNET

How similar was most all the old-time bonnets. I guess every woman would wear a bonnet to protect her face and keep the hot sun off and then on Sunday she would not be so burned up. One time way back in early days Mother said "Daddy I want you to get me some new cloth so I can make a new bonnet. Now Daddy, you be sure not to get red. You be sure not to get pokeydot." Each day Mother would drill Dad what not to get her for her new bonnet. Finally the day came for Dad to go to town. People did not go to town much then, maybe a few times in a whole year. That morning Dad got his instruction from Mom. When Dad got to town he went into the store to get the cloth for the new bonnet and he tried with all his might to think what color to get. Finally he said she did say something about "red pokeydot" and he got the red pokeydot, the last thing on earth Mom wanted, but that was all he could remember her saying.

My Mother's family seemed to have pretty well everything they needed in life. They always dressed nice. My Mother thought that she was not dressed properly without a dress hat. One time I can still see it as tho it was yesterday, we hitched up the mules to the old wagon. The old mules was lunging at the collar and raring to go. Daddy sitting out on the spring seat saying "Moma come on, we will be late to church." Finally Mom and baby rushed to the wagon and on to church about half way, Sister and I was on the plank behind the spring seat, and Sister said in a loud clear tone "Moma, look on your hat." What do you think? A dirt dobber nest as large as your fist. Mother's words was "I never was so got off with." That was a favorite expression in early days when someone was embarrassed.

MOM AND HER NEW DRESS

Mom was a very good woman. Worked awful hard. The old time wood-burning cook stove to cook food on, no fans, very small windows and old tin roof. People now don’t know nothing. Many times Mother would not get one new dress in a year. The gingham cloth was 5 cents a yard and it took 5 yards and mother could take her sewing machine and make a very pretty dress. But many times not one new dress in a whole year. People never now know one thing about hard times. Mother suffered from heat as very few people suffered from heat.

Old Picket Fence

The beautiful new pickets all round the garden and all round the yard in many cases was a thing of beauty. No Mister Cotton Tail ever got through a nice home-made picket fence to eat the tender cabbage plants. It was a thing of beauty, straight and beautiful. Made it look like folks live there as my Mom would say many times after a nice job was completed to make things look nice. Sometime she would say looks like white folks live here. Black foks (way it sounds and pronounced) never in old days made any improvements but our place looked nice with flowers and nice picket garden fence, new door steps and endless other things that always had to be done on a rent farm we would live on.

Moma Wade Story

Moma Wade (Emma Salter Wade) told of the woman that had a kid that was awful mean. They were at a quilting one day and the mother of the brat said I have the meanest kid in the world. Another woman there said "yes he sure is." Then the mother of the offensive kid said "I have you to know my kid is no meaner than any other kid around here." The idea is that Mom and Dad always thinks their little crow is the blackest, as the old saying goes (the best kid).

MY MOTHER (3 ROSES)

I wanted to give much and seemed that I always had too little to give to her and to others that I loved so very much. Seemed that I would try to give and always ended up getting back more than I could ever give.

A short time before Mom got so very ill with the stroke, I purchased a dozen roses, probably at Tyler or near Tyler on some trip I had made. I gave my wife and family here at home 9 roses and it seemed to be, well that is pretty, but — so —what? In other words no one here at our house said much about the nine roses. They seemed to matter but little.

I carried Mother 3 roses out of the 12 and I never in my life saw anyone so proud of anything as she was these 3 roses. She bragged and bragged how proud she was of these 3 roses. Seemed that Mother had had so little given to her such as things like bought flowers and they meant a lot to her.

I so well remember on or about 1955 at East Mountain where they lived, Obie Baker told them he had purchased the land where they lived and that they had to move from the old barn there. I will always think he was lying about the purchase. His Uncle, Mr. Repond, most likely still owned the place.

I went down to talk to Obie Baker, the big preacher, to see if anything could be worked out. NOTHING DOING, THE UNPARDONABLE SIN HAD BEEN COMMITTED. DAD HAD FORBID THEM PLAYING FOOTBALL THERE AT DAD'S HOUSE. But back of the football playing was things that I thought would satisfy any reasonable person. The boys would come in Mother's yard, with the football cleats, about 20 or more of them spilling water all round the well and letting it run back into the well and keeping Mother’s and Dad’s drinking water muddy all the time. Daddy talked to them and said I will bring you water in a bucket anytime you want water as you play practice football beside my house during the football season. But the bucket of water was not enough. They had to come to the water well.

The football playing was more important than my Dad and Mom. I started out immediately to see what we could do to get land, a house, etc. here near us. Mr. B.D. Futrell sold us 1 1/3 acres of land I believe for $125 cash right here next to us. He said that would make his fence row straight across the back. He had a 4-room house that Mr. Tom McCurry lived in almost in front of us a little earlier. He said he would take $200 for the house. Mr. Clyde Allen moved the house for $150 at that time. I still remember seeing the house going across the plowed rows back of where the house was placed. The house was swaying front to back. I thought that house will surely come down, but it sat down on the ground just fine. Curlee Hardeman had earlier brought his tractor and I handled the old time dirt moving scraper that moves about 1/2 yard of dirt when loaded correctly. Maybe not that much. But we leveled the place before the house was put in place. Curlee's wife was a school teacher in Gilmer. Cousin Liston Knight and I took all the walls down, put the 12" planks, not straight up and down but running long as the ground would run. With 2 x 4 frame walls. We installed a used bathroom, electric lights, pump and running water. Uncle Orville had plenty of used sheet rock in Ft. Worth that I went up and brought back. Chester Collier textoned the rooms. Mother had a finished house before she got sick and lived in it 5 years. I have never seen anyone so proud as Mom was for her own house. Thank the Lord for his blessing for her a house of her own.

POOR AS JOBE'S TURKEY

"Poor as Jobe's turkey" was an old saying many years ago. I would say "Moma, how poor is that?" "Well, that turkey had to lean against the fence four times to make a shadow."

THE HOGS

Each day, in fact three times each day, you would hear the awfullest squealing of the hog. Sometime you could hear him a mile away. He really let you know he was ready to eat. Especially about daybreak—that awful sound. Sleepy kids wanted to rest a little longer in bed but not the hog. He really cut up and you just never heard such carrying on as the hog would do. Boy he acted his part and told the world about it.

Feeding the pig, soon-to-be hog, was my job at our house when I was growing up on the farm. I don't ever remember resenting the joy. I can still see the old hog squealing, standing on his hind legs and reaching with his front feet on the fence high as he could get, begging for his feed.

The old hog never seemed to mind what he got to eat, he just ate it with great vigor and smacked his jaws and many times would grunt a big thanks for anything we carried him. Many times we went to the watermelon patch and brought watermelons on the home-made slide for us to eat and the hog to finish the job and many times if the melon was small the hog got all of it. He loved the melons. The big ears of corn he sure did love and he sure would smack and grunt a thanks for those.

THE CRAWLING BIRD TRAP

Once when I was a small boy my sister and I went to the bird traps. One trap was so full of big large quails until it was crawling all round on the ground with the birds inside the home-made trap. The trap was made of small narrow strips, two north and south and two east and west so to speak. Then the next layer was a little smaller until it came to sharp pyramid in the center. Sister and I went running half a mile to the house to tell Daddy about the wonderful catch in the bird trap. He was out in the front of the house talking to another man. We thought he would never in the world get through so we could go get the nice fat quails out of the trap. But even now I can’t imagine a trap with so many quails until they could drag the trap from place to place. Those days there were lots of nice quail and nice fish in each little stream.

Cleaning Out the Well

At Lone Mountain about 1930 or 1931 when we moved there we had to always clean out the well. Draw out all the water and clean out all the mud from the well. As Mama called it, fumigate the house. That was by burning sulfur in the house with every door and window closed. She was a strong believer in this, as we moved almost every year of my growing up years. No telling what kind of people and disease was in there before we got there. The old walls was uncovered. Just old rough 12 inch planks called boxing planks running up and down and a 1 x 4 over each crack, keeping out a little air on the single wall house. But the small plank warped letting in lots of air when it was cold. Also at the bottom was a nice hole for a mouse to enter and usually a rat gnawed a little and in came the rats also. But Mom was good to set traps and we also always had a good cat.

Back to the well. It was only about 12, maybe 14 feet deep. Dad could not go into the well. He sent me down in the well. I got scared and cried and Dad brought me out immediately and never did send me in another well. I could see this reasoning. I could have done the part in the well had I not been scared. But I could not do the part drawing the water and mud. He sure did not do this in haste. It was something that needed to be done but I can’t remember who went into the well but I never had to go into another one after the 11 year of age experience. I don't think I would be fearful now if a good man up top could get me out in case of need.

BABY TRUMAN

Back at Lone Mountain when Truman was a baby and large enough to set alone Uncle Bud came to see us. Uncle Bud was R. Q. Salter, mother's oldest brother. Uncle Bud was a serious-minded person that worked on a drilling rig in the oil field all his life. No doubt he made real good money all through the years. He became head driller on the drill crew many years before leaving Magnolia Oil Company. He worked there 29 years and with 30 years would have got him a pension from the company. But as was customary in almost every case in old days along the retiring year the company found fault in the man and fired him one year short of his retirement pension. It was a defraud but Magnolia Company did this to my uncle. He had worked long and faithful wherever they wanted him to go. No reason for the action as far as Uncle Bud. Anyway, Uncle Bud made good and had a section of fine farm land west of the Pecos River in later years. Likely when he sold it he got a fortune for it.

Uncle Bud married very late in life to Aunt Tena from Colorado. She as far as we know got a large fortune at his death. He was wealthy beyond words. Aunt Tena carried Uncle Bud to Colorado to care for him. She would not let my sister come to see them. So likely as not she got my uncle's money and left him desolate and uncared for. She was a hard one to know a thing about.

When Uncle Bud came he brought us children a large sack with many bars of fine chocolate candy. Milky Way, Three Musketeers, and all kinds. You bet your life us children liked for Uncle Bud to come. We never in our life had a fine bar of candy except when Uncle Bud visited us on the farm.

On one visit when Truman was a baby sitting alone, Uncle Bud came. Sister, me, mother and Uncle Bud was all sorta in a circle around baby Truman. In a little while Baby Truman did a little toot. Now you would not find this funny unless you knew Uncle Bud. But to us this was about the funniest thing we ever saw. A little toot. All faces was very serious. After a little another little toot, then sister grinned. No, no one in later knows what a snicker is. That is a laugh when your face is covered and trying not to show it. In a little while baby did toot toot toot several times and there sat Uncle Bud very serious. By this time Mom began to snicker and try to hide it. After a while in a very serious voice Uncle Bud said "Emma (that being Moma's name) you better do something with this child." By this time I think little brother Ellis, little sister LaNell had to leave the room because of so much laughing. We joked about this for many years to come.

This only funny to those that knew Uncle Bud. But it was hilarious to all of us.

THE JERSEY COW

I wish with all my might we had a picture of our old jersey cow. When the mules chased her and pawed her as best I remember, she died and the whole family cried.

A person would not think it was a thing of skill to milk a cow. But it was. I milked a cow very few times in my life. I don't remember ever milking at home back on the farm. Mother did the milking except real bad weather when Dad would milk for her. But Dad's hands was so rough he could not milk with much success.

Many times the cow would hold the milk back for her calf. Some people knew how long to let the calf suck and tie the calf off the second time and get the best milk as they got the milk at the last. She always saved the best for her calf.

In the summer it was fun for us kids to go sit at the cow pin while Mom milked. Listen to the junebugs and crickets so wonderful. We loved it.

Old Pat Loyd one time (we lived just across the branch from him at Sand Hill) scatted the calf off, not tieing the calf. The calf was hungry so he was right back sucking almost immediately. Old devil bootlegger Pat scatted the calf off several times and the calf would not mind him. He said I will keep you away and picked up a sledge hammer and knocked the calf in the head dead, of course. Then said, "now suck if you will." I don't think that calf sucked anymore but the fool lost a fine animal in his insanity.

A cow was of great value. Back about 1933 the government bought many fine cows and pored kerosene on them and burned them. That with many people begging for food in the deep bad depression. Bad in one way but I guess they knew if they did not supervise the destruction of the cows the old gangsters like Tom Marshall, Sr., J.R. Pinn, Barnwell and other gangsters in Gilmer would have ended up with some fine stock, free of charge and no cost to them. They took about all there was to take and others like them in Gilmer where the poor had nothing even to live on.