In this part of my blog, I am including as much as possible Mom’s own writings. I didn't attempt to organize the events in perfect sequence, but left them as Mother wrote. Mostly, these are the stories and journal writings of her earlier years in life before the remarriage to Henry Britten Merrick. Mom enjoyed writing and keeping journals. She might not have written ideas down everyday, but she did write about many different stories.
I hope her words will be enjoyed by all the family and perhaps a little more insight to her life and history for the grandchildren to enjoy. It was not an easy life for Mom, but her life was rich with family and memories, both good and not quite so good. We will always love and miss her. So--the rest of this part of the blog was quoted from Mom's writings. You will know that the first person pronouns are refering to herself. I will always be grateful to Mom for writing all these stories for us to read and enjoy. I hope that more family members will take the time to write down their experiences and memories from different stages in life for those that live afterwards to read and cherish.
Carolyn May-Shelhamer
"I was named Neoma Lucille after Naomi Hand, my cousin who had the same birthday as mine. I was born July 4, 1916 in Driftwood, Oklahoma on the 160-acre farm that my Grandfather Schwindt had homesteaded in 1893 when a part of Oklahoma was opened for settlers, i.e. The Cherokee Strip. My parents were Bert and Lizzie Settle. My father was born in Red Rock, Iowa. My mother was born in Norka, Russia. She had immigrated to America with her family in 1892 when she was about five years old. After my Grandmother's death in 1918, my parents moved in with Granpa to take care of him. My dad took over the farming and so the five of us, Mamma, Dad, my brother Leroy, Grandpa and myself settled in there for the next three years. Grandpa died in December 1921.
Mama's three sisters and one brother met and decided that if my parents would pay Grandpa's expenses and assume the mortgage on the farm, that they would sign over their part of the estate to them. What we did not know was they felt they had rights to a share of everything that was produced.
I started to school in September 1922 in Burlington, Oklahoma. Leroy was in the 5th grade. Miss Laura French was my teacher and a life long friend. I visited her in a rest home a few years before her death. I have good memories of my school years. We learned to read by the phonetic method. Every day the teacher put a letter on the blackboard and we learned the sounds. Often the teacher would write a message on the blackboard and we were required to read it. It made my day when she wrote the message, "Lucille, stand in the sand table". I got up and taking one of the little chairs from our reading circle, took it over to the sand table, very carefully stood up to the chair then stepped up into the sand table. I dismounted, returned the chair to its place and took my seat. Except for a nod from the teacher at the beginning, I don't think a word was said.
After we came back from Christmas vacation, we went into the new school building. They had given us a tour of the new building, but I did not get all of it. It was several days before I found out where the bathroom was. One day during class time, the teacher noticed my discomfort and asked me what was wrong. I told her I had to go to the toilet. She told me to go ahead and then I had to admit that I didn't know where the toilet was. She sent another girl with me to show me where it was. It was in that bathroom that I saw my first toilet paper. Previous to going into the new building, we had outside toilets.
That spring of 1923, Leroy and I both had whooping cough and red measles. He was a lot sicker than I was. He talked out at night. He thought he was stacking and hauling brush. We had to stay in and keep the room darkened to protect our eyes. One warm Sunday afternoon after I was cleared up, I put on my coat and went outside. Things had greened up and I walked through the apple orchard. The trees were all in bloom. I can remember thinking that the world had never been more beautiful. I enjoyed the afternoon so much, but that night I coughed and had my first ear ache. Mamma had the whooping cough at the same time. She was so sick and had to stay in bed a long time. It all closed in on me at school one day. It seemed she'd been sick too long, and when I told my teacher about it, she comforted me.
Later in school, the first and second graders were in the same classroom with Miss French the teacher. She was certainly a legend there. But due to the over crowding in the room, certain second graders were sent to the third grade room. I was in the group transferred. Then came the challenge of trying to do the third grade work in addition to the second grade work. Sometime during that year, I caught my first three fingers in the school bus door and they were cut just below the fingernails. We arrived at school early and the teacher was late that morning. We'd been given strict instructions to never go into any other classroom other than our own, so I had to wait untiil the teacher , Miss Ona Driskill got there for any first aid treatment. She put turpentine on my bleeding fingers and then wrapped them in gauze bandages. My hand hurt so badly all day, and when I got home, my mother tended to the injuries. The bleeding had stopped, but the bandages stuck to my fingers. Miss Driskell, the teacher was wonderful and also another life-long friend. She loved the autumn, calling our attention to the fall colors, the change of seeasons, and proper celebrations of holidays. We decorated the classroom to the fullest and memorized every poem in the reader. To this day, I love Robert Lewis Stevenson's poems. His words made our activities come to life with poetry.
By the time I was in the third grade, Miss Driskell was teaching the previous year third graders, and now they were in the fourth grade. We still had the same pupils in the room. I listened in and did all the fourth grade work in addition to my own. Sometimes I took their tests. About in February I took a fourth grade grammar test and handed in my paper. Miss Driskell graded it and I made 91. She gave me another test and I scored about 98. She decided I could do fourth grade work all right and so after that I was a fourth grader. I'd never had geography and the arithmetic was harder than I'd thought it would be. It was not a smart move. The third graders were released to play thirty or forty-five minutes early, while the fourth grade had geography, just before the end of the school day. I missed this last little recess chance to play and visit with my friends."
"The Burlington community's main religion was Amish. The children were clannish, well dressed, and it seemed that every one of them had an orange in their lunch box. Leroy and I had money, about $.15 once a week, on Friday, to buy our lunch. We had to take a note from home asking for permission to leave the school yard so we could walk to town to buy a hamburger and candy bar. Sometimes I would buy bulk candy and take it back to school. Those Amish kids were my best friends as long as the candy held out. At first I was so flattered to be included and got their promise to share with me whenever they had any candy. This proved to be a false promise.
The summer that I was ten, my parents decided that I needed to have my tonsils removed before school started in September. So on the Monday before school started, Leroy and I were both admitted to the hospital. He had his adnoids removed and we were in the same room. I had the bed and he slept on a cot. He saw me leave and come back and didn't like it at all. We had not been told to miss breakfast, so it was worse than if we'd not eaten.
The same summer 1926, my Dad, probably tired of farming and raising truck-garden food and having the relatives coming at the right time to get part of the produce, found a place to buy. He also found a buyer for Grandpa's homestead, where we lived. It bothered Mamma a lot, but she went along with it. We moved to the place south of Byron the day after Christmas, December 26, 1926. Leroy and I started school at Byron, Oklahoma in January 1927. I thought it was a pretty primitive school. The whole school was on the same floor, the gym and auditorium was in the middle, the first eight grades contained in three classrooms on the north side, the high school and library were in four rooms on the south side of the building. We had two out-buildings for toilets. There were about seven places in the girls' toilet. It wasn't as nice as the Burlington building.
I finished grade school and high school at Byron and graduated in 1933. During my seventh grade, a teacher came to organize an orchestra. She had classes for each instrument. I started on the violin, and then took private lessons the next summer. During the next five years we had only two other music teachers. I enjoyed the orchestra so much and improved on the violin. I was asked to play at programs sometimes. We also had an orchestra at church and played nearly every Sunday during "the singing". A neighbor girl , Pearl Hill, often had me come over to her house on Sunday afternoons. She played the piano, and accompanied me.
We attended the Christian church at Byron. During the meeting I was baptized on November 16, 1932. Mamma was baptized the next night.
There were fifty-four additions to the church at that time. Leroy was baptized sometime later, and was installed as a deacon in a short time. Dale Schnelle was the student preacher from Phillips University. He and Leroy were best friends.
I think my sophomore year in high school was the worst school year I ever had. My dad was a person to be charitable toward everyone, but his own family. I suppose he had confidence in us that we could take care of ourselves. Bob Settle, a cousin who was eleven years old, came to stay with us that year. It was during the depression. He didn't have any clothes and it took about all the extra money to build up his wardrobe. About the time Mamma thought she had him fixed up, he'd go through a fence and tear his pants. The next summer, we took him back to Omaha and he stayed with my cousin Naomi the following year and went to school there.
Remembering a solemn time in her childhood, Mother wrote the following about her Russian immigrant Grandfather who lived with the family after her grandmother passed away.
"After Grandma's death, my folks moved back in with Grandpa on the 160 acres he filed on to homestead at the opening of the Cherokee Strip in Oklahoma. He was 78 years old and had been left a cripple from a previous broken leg. In his bedroom he'd ask me bring the candy sack that was kept in the front left-hand corner of the left top drawer in the dresser. My "matia" he'd call. That was my name as far as I knew. I'd bring the sack to him and we'd each share a piece of candy. Then I'd put the sack back. I can't ever remember helping myself to the candy except when he told me to bring it to him.
The morning my Grandpa was dying, my dad had gone to the Loomis's to call the doctor for him. My two aunts were at the house working over Grandpa, Mamma was trying to get some cream churned into butter, because Grandpa had thought a little earlier that he might be able to drink some buttermilk. Suddenly Mamma told me to run quick and tell Dad to come home because Grandpa was dying. I ran the quarter mile and told Dad.
Dad carried me on his back and ran all the way home. Soon the doctor arrived, but not before Grandpa had breathed his last. One of my aunts closed Grandpa's eyes and held his mouth closed by typing a rag cloth under his chin and up over his head. The undertaker arrived in due time. They put Grandpa in a long wicker basket and took him away. Everyone got busy at once and as soon as they'd left with Grandpa, turned out the room. They'd put Grandpa's bed and mattress outside to air they said. It must have been a way of announcing a death. We'd go by a place, and see a bed and things outside in the front yard and say, somebody must have died there.
That afternoon, my mother and I went to town and the funeral parlor.The next morning, early, they built a better approach to our front door. In a little while, a great ivory colored hearse brought Grandpa back home.
He lay in his casket in the front room where he'd spent most of his last three years. People called, one neighbor stood by Grandpa's casket and cried. They'd been very good friends, but were never able to converse, as Granpa never learned to speak English, and Mr. Fellers didn't understand German. They both had homesteaded in the opening of the Cherokee Strip.
Men came to the house to sit up all night while Grandpa's body was at home. Mamma would make up a pot of coffee and then at the usual time we all went to bed. The next day it was all to do over again, rather like a continuous party, except there weren't any kids there, nor did anyone seem to be having fun. Aunt Elizabeth kept lifting the big veil that covered the opening of the casket and putting her hand on Grandpa's forehead and shaking him. All the aunts and my mother fixed black veils on their hats with veil streamers down their backs to wear to the funeral. Up until now, I did not know the difference between the German language and English spoken and understood both.
Well, we buried Grandpa, then the men had to cut the last dates into the tombstone, and one man used a chisel. Mamma said his hands were cut terribly. After that, the cemetery played a big part in our lives. It was someplace to go, before Memorial Day or on a Sunday afternoon. It was a gathering place for all the family.
I started to school in September 1922. My Grandpas estate had been settled, so it was decided among the three aunts and one uncle that they would give my parents their share of 160 acres farm if theyd take care of the expenses and help pay for the three years theyd spent taking care of Grandpa. Grandpa had at one time had money saved, but relatives had borrowed it and never paid it back.
So my folks got the farm, a sandy place with perhaps 40 acres pasture. We had some alfalfa, but our main source of living was from the garden and apple orchard. My Dad had the heart of a minstrel and the peddling of the produce was meant for him. That way he could visit everybody and if things didnt sell very well, he gave it away. At home, Mamma, and Leroy kept the watermelon rows clean, ripe melons, cantaloupes and some of the apples picked for those who came along to buy, but didnt care to pick their own. Often time, there wasnt any work in the truck patch for Leroy, so Dad would get some field work started so that Leroy could work at that. I enjoyed this part; because it would be my job to take him a drink in half gallon syrup can full of cold water in the afternoon. We always fought at the house, but these times were special and because he'd want me to stay at the field with him, he'd never tease me at these times.
We lived on a main traveled road and people stopped all the time to buy our produce. One time a man bought the fresh corn on the cobs right out of the pot that Mamma meant to cook it in. We had our own chickens and eggs, milk and butter, so there was not a lot we had to buy. Often people driving through the country by horse and wagon would stop and camp at our house. If they were driving stock, Dad would have them water them out of wash tubs instead of our drinking tub, as he was afraid of diseases in the cattle. One old man traveling alone in a covered wagon played the violin and give us a burner for coal-oil lamp that produced a better flame than the regular one as his pay. The Raleigh man always made it to our house at noon when he was in the area and he always gave us a cam of white unscented talcum powder as pay for his dinner. Mamma made wonderful apple pie,, and one neighbor would manage to stall around long enough to get asked to eat dinner. Somehow hed find out if she were making apple pie.
We were not without the usual run of hobos that stopped by for a handout. Several young men going by one day , stopped at the orchard first, stripped one tree of ripe cherries, then came to the house to ask for water. They didnt bother anything else.
Occasionally a band of Gypsies drove through the country, making all the houses. They were exciting and colorful in dress, but the greatest threat to property. They usually had the story related by the young girl they sent to the houses, My mother had a baby last night and Id like you to give me a chicken so I could make her some soup. Wiser people went out and caught a chicken and gave it to her. My cousin, a young bachelor farmer told her to go and catch one. Well, she got the chicken and gathered all the eggs from the nests too. As they left, he saw a crate with several chickens tied on.
I was often left at the house with enough change to make any sale if anyone came to buy our produce while the others were busy out in the patch bringing in more stuff. I remember one evening,, I was about 8 or 9 years old, a car full of young people stopped while I was there alone and decided to buy some watermelons and eat them right there. I sat high in the wagon seat and watched them. They were slightly untidy concerning the rinds etc. We always kept the premises washed and swept.
Our truck farming had broadened into wheat farming by 1924 when my dad rented eighty acres of wheat ground from an old German man who came and stayed with us durng the harvest every year. He once accompanied us to town on a grocery buying trip. It was this dear old fellow who bought my first dish of ice cream for me in a drug store. It took me so long to eat it that by the time I was finished, Mamma had finished the grocery buying for which she had traded in butter and eggs. They were loaded in the buggy and waiting for me. I felt cheated as the trip to the General Store meant a lot. You could get just about anything at the Star Grocery Store. But I did enjoy that first taste of ice cream.
My Dad died October 1, 1958. Mamma died July 14, 1964.
"When I was a kid, I loved to read and get my homework. My dad always helped with my math. He was my best teacher. I started on the violin in the 7th grade and took class lessons and then private lessons one summer. I took long walks in the fields, helped with chores and did at least one extra job a day to relieve my mother. Our mail box was about 1/4 miles east of the house. It was my job to see that the mail was brought home every day. During the school year, I'd leave the school bus at the corner before it made a trip two miles east to deliver kids home. I'd get the mail and be home and changed into other clothes by the time the bus got back and went by our house.
I remember hating to be cold in the winter. We slept upstairs and sometimes we wrapped the sairons in clothes and took them to bed with us to help get the bed warm. We had no electricity until 1938 or 1939, so without refrigeration or electric fans, there was not much help in keep cool. It was 122 degrees for 10 days one summer. In the summer we would mop the floors with cold water to help cool the house and keep the shades drawn. In later years, we kept ice. The iceman came at 5 AM and left ice. It was kept in a washtub in the cellar, wrapped in a tarp. We put milk or butter next to the block of ice to keep it from spoiling. We dressed chickens everyday and cooked them at once. (The photo to the right was Lizzie and Burt Settle in front of their farm house)
"The first Christmas I remember, I was at a big gathering at the one room school where they were having a program. I was reciting my "piece" when Santa Claus was lowered into the room from the attic. All at once there was a great commotion in the room. I finished my part and I am sure that no one heard me. Santa Claus had entered and the program was over. Gifts from the Christmas tree and bags of candy and fruit were given to everyone. My gift was a little wooden trunk in which I could store my doll's extra clothes. I don't remember what my brother Leroy got for christmas that year. Every year there was more "community Christmas" than there was at home. On Saturday afternoon, a Santa came and handed out bags of candy. He usually was in the back of a truck. The truck was an enlarged version of the pick-up truck that we see today. I remember our Sunday School teacher always giving each one of us in the class small gift too.
In our classroom at school, we drew names and brought a gift for that person. These were fun times and we would go home feelig good about everything and everyone.
 |
Lizzie Settle(right) with her older sister , Elizabeth,
and my mother (young girl in the center) |
On Christmas Eve, we looked forward to our family Christmas. Lacking a Christmas tree and a fireplace (I had never seen a real fireplace), we hung a stocking, one that we had worn that day, on the chrome bar on the front of the iron rung in the kitchen and hoped for the best that Santa might have in his bag. The next morning, there would be smaller items in our stockings, such as a pocket knife for my brother and a folding comb in a case in my stocking. Bigger gifts were there, but not necessarily credited to Santa.
We had a special dinner on Christmas. Lacking refrigeration, but making use of the cold weather, my mother always made a big fruit salad for that special meal. Sometimes we had company and they would bring cakes, pies, and homemade candy, but I like it best when it was just the four of us. I can't remember ever having bad weather on Christmas day. It was usually cold, and in the afternoon, having tired of the month long Christmas stuff, I would put on warm clotes and go to the frozen-over shallow pond in the pasture and play off all the feelings; the negative as well as the over-positive ones that I had built up over the past month.
I had my 21st birthday that summer of 1937 and a bachelor of science degree from Northwestern State College. I had two majors- one in Elementary Education Grades 1-8 and English Grades 7-12. Of course, I wanted to teach, but there was a shortage of teachers. As a result, a two year certificate was easy to get and a lot of girls went one year to school and one summer and got teaching jobs. There were 90 applicants for one rural school that I applied for. I was promised the Mendon School eight miles east of Byron. It had been closed for a year, but they planned to reopen it. These plans went on until the last of August when they found out that they couldnn't reopen it. It was not long that eleven the one-room schools were closing altogether. So I was without a job after all.
On Friday before the schools were to begin a new year, Geraldyne, Orville's sister called that she had accepted another school and if I wanted it, I should come out to Roger Mills County and see if I could get the first one that she had. I went out on Saturday, taking the Katy train from Alva to Hammon. The Stephensons were living in Cheyenne then and met me and helped me to meet the school board that night. That same evening, I was accepted and signed a contract to teach District #9 for the next 8 months at $50 a month. It wasn't much but I liked it.
"It was in my sophomore year 1934-35 in Alva, that I met a student named Orville Sstephenson. His father and brother were doctors and shared an office over Beagles Drug Store in Alva. Orville worked at Beagles Drug Store the last two years he was at Alva. We dated during those two years. He graduated in 1936 with major in biological and chemical Science. He made $50 a month in the year of 1936-37. I graduated in 1937 with Elementary Education and English major. All I lacked for a third teaching field was a few hours of chemistry. I had earned my Bachelor of Science degree and lifetime certificate to teach in Oklahoma.
Orville Gore Stephenson was born in Oklahoma on October 1, 1908 and died May 3, 1958 in Raton, New Mexico. He was a registered pharmacist. We were married in El Reno, Oklahoma December 23, 1937 by a Christian Church minister.
When WWII was declared four years later on December 8, 1941, Orville (Steve) had registered for the draft a few months before. The draft was a cloud that hung over us. About every 45 days, we received a new classification. He was never drafted, but those new classifications always were a dread. He was classified as class 3A signified as an essential worker at home. I remember the rationing of food, shoes, gas, tires, and almost everything except produce in grocery stores.
We were married in December 1937 but kept it a secret. I needed to teach another year while he was in Pharmacy School at Oklahoma University and was helping him a little. During the depression,, the rule was one job to a family. If it was found that a lady had a husband, then she was dismissed at once. I had three teaching offers the next year and took the one closest to home. It was during that year that the bank where I deposited my money was closed. The banker had tampered with funds and then shot himself. It was several months before the FDIC paid me back the $147 that I had in my account.
Orville graduate from OU in 1939 and I went to Norman and stayed the last month he was there. We rented a two room apartment in the upstairs of a house. We didn't have a car, so we had to carry everything from the stores. To keep our shoes from wearing out, we put a little brace and caps under the heels. After graduation, Steve took a job at Woodward for a couple of weeks. He made $20 a weeek there. Then he got an offer to go to Earth, Texas for $30 a week.
After going to Earth, Texas, it was a couple of moonths before I received the money from the bank that closed. We used the money to make a down payment on a 1937 Chevy Sedan. We bought furniture at Montgomery Ward on credit. We bought a kerosene stove, bedroom suite, mattress, couch and chair and also a Leonard refrigerator. Those were beautiful pieces of furniture and I still have the bed and chest that we bought there. Trying to be a good housekeeper, I cut the side from the carton the mattress came in and put it betweeen the mattress and springs to keep it from being worn on the coil springs. The next summer the bed bugs hatched out of the corrugated cardboard and got into the bed. I kept finding bloody streaks on the sheet on Orville's side. He didn't have any scratches or sores-- the blood came from the bedbugs as he moved his feet and killed them. It took me quite awhile to figure out what the problem was. After that, I painted all the joints in the bed, all the cracks in the woodwork for several days with kerosene. I put the mattress outside everyday to let the kerosene evaporate. It didn't take long to get rid of the bed bugs.
I also did lots of spring cleaning after the big sandstorms that spring in 1940. Later in April 1941, I went back to Aileen, Oklahoma were Maxine was born. Orville's father had a hospital and I stayed several weeks for her birth and my recovery. Her grandfather Dr. W. L. Stephenson delivered her at the small hospital.
In August 1941 after Maxine had been born, the county at Earth had been voted dry, so the Drug Store didn't need a pharmacist any longer. It was not too illegal for a non-professional to fill prescriptions so we were out of a job. We decided to take our first vacation then and went to Salida, Colorado to visit Carroll Stephenson, Orville's brother. We looked for jobs along the way and found a job at Leadville, Colorado, but no housing was available. We finally moved to Wellington, Kansas the last of August 1941. A lot was going on there; a defense plant was going strong in Wichita, just 30 miles from there. War was declared December 8, 1941 and troops trains were moving everyday. There was a lot of restlessness, landlords went up on the rent, and people were milling around. I took a job teaching in January 1942 in a rural school. There were 5 pupils and everything went well going out to the school with pavement for 5 miles, then on dirt road for 3 miles until it began raining. Then Orville took me as far as the pavement went, and I walked 1 1/2 miles to a house where one of the students lived and his father took the little boy and me to school in their car that could make it through the mud. That was fine, except when they left the child to walk to school. Then I walked the 3 miles with him in the evening and Orville picked me up.
We paid a girl $1 a day to come in and stay with Maxine who was 9 months old by then. But soon Orville became restless and was expecting to be drafted anytime and decided that he would take another working vacation. He had a job at Monte Vista, Colorade. So we stored our furniture and went out there and he worked for three months. In the meantime, he was re-classified about every 45 days for the draft. He stayed in class 3A all the time. By then jobs were plentiful and we went to Woodward and he worked in McDonald's Drug Store there. In Sept. 1942 I took another teaching job in a rural school about 25 miles NE and took Maxine, then 16 months old with me for awhile.. The job was fine, but there was again the problem of muddy roads. We found a lady to keep Maxine later, and the lady that kept her had a cat and we both got ringworms. Maxine was cutting her stomach eyeteeth and was really sick. So after about 10 weeks, I left there at noon one day and took her home. I never went back to teach there again.
While teaching at Tangier in the high school English department, the students were all from farm families and had chores to do and rode a long way to school on the school bus. So our school hours were from 10 until 5pm. The object of my working was for us to save my salary, so we could have money to buy our own business someday. However, we all needed clothes, so we bought Orville a suit and a watch; Maxine and I got new coats. We also bought Christmas gifts so it was January before we started a savings account.
The government was emphatic about conservation of materials. Men's trousers were not to have cuffs, so the tailor shortened the legs of the new suit and put the extra material in the coat pocket. Ladies' dresses were shorter, walking shoes were stylish. There was talk of gas and tire rationing, so everyone did what they could to conserve. Lots of worn out tires were recapped and sold on the black market. Woodward had two military camps. The Camouflage Unit was at Boiling Spring State Park. An air base was constructed west of Woodward just 2 or 3 miles form the school at Tangier.
My year at Tangier was probably the best school year I ever had. The children were grateful for small things. I had three classes of high school English, one speech class, two hours of 7th and 8th grade reading, English and spelling. I had two free planning periods. One free period was used to practice whatever program I was working on. I sponsored the junior and senior plays, a speech program that was presented to the "Literary Society" comparable to the PTA meetings. I also planned and practiced the high school graduation exercises. I was also the high school principal!
Two of our high school girls got married that year to boys that went off to the service. One married her sweetheart of long standing; the other married a boy she barely knew so that she and her family could get the $50 monthly allotment. The girl who had married her long time sweetheart was married on Friday and came back to school on Monday. At the time his train left, she put her head down on her arms on her desk and stayed there for about an hour.
We all heard the train's whistle. Then it faded away. After awhile she rose up, but never mentioned anything about her loss. Those were hard times for many young couples.
During the war, meat was rationed. When the new ration books were due, we dismissed school one day all the teachers issued the new books. The students had to turn in the old books, even though they might not be all used. Deceased persons were taken off the lists. Certain stamps were designed for coffee, sugar and shoes. Large families had more sugar and show allowances than they needed. So, stamps were swapped a lot. This was illegal, but no one that I knew of was ever turned in for it. We rode the bus when we went to visit our families instead of driving, to save tires and gas. We had C-stamps for gas so we were not allowed to buy many gallons at a time.
In the summer of 1943, a new hospital opened 16 miles east of Woodward at Mooreland, Oklahoma. Orville got the job as the pharmacist there, so we rented a house, moved our furniture out of storage and moved there. I did not teach that year, except for a couple of weeks. I taught at Selman, Oklahoma. It was a good job, but being away from home and Maxine's welfare convinced me that that even for $140 a month, it was not worth it. Orville's father was very against my working and not staying home with Maxine.
In September 1944, I started teaching at Quinlan, Oklahoma for $140 a month. I taught High school English and speech. It was a good year and again, because of farm families the hours were 10 AM to5pm. We had hot lunches available for $.10. There were always hot cocoa and hot rolls besides the regular meal. There was again the problem of muddy roads. If the roads were too bad for me to drive, I rode on the train from Mooreland to Quinlan and stayed at the hotel for a night or two. I did not miss many times. I sponsored the junior and senior plays, speech programs. Because I had a few college hours of music, I was appointed to be the music teacher. It was during the war and activities and parties were limited because of that. Later in the summer of 1945, several boys left for service, two families were informed of sons missing in action, one son was said to be a prisoner of war, and another family received word that their son was killed on Okinawa. His brother found his grave on Okinawa sometime later.
Early in August 1945 we had bought a drug store in the town of Mooreland. Orville had quit his job at the hospital and we were both working in the store. I reluctantly accepted my teaching position back Quinlan and found a girl to help with the housework, get Maxine ready for the babysitter, and then go to the drug store and help out there. For all her services, she received board and room and $5.00 a week. We raised it to $7.50 in awhile. I later quit my teaching job and we let the house-girl/clerk go. Through a strange twist of events, the former owner of the store was talking about opening another drug store there in the town of Mooreland. The wife was a pharmacist and had not signed any of the papers when we bought the store. Oklahoma was not a community property state. Her husband's agreement to stay out of business was not binding on her and before they went further with the new business, they approached Orville and asked if he'd sell the store back to them. He did and was glad to be out of it.
Later in January 1946, Orville took a job as a pharmacist in a store at Canadian, Texas. I applied and received a job teaching at the junior high school in the morning and 6th grade at another school in the afternoons. It was not a good teaching situation and I declined when they asked me back for the next year. By then, Maxine was 5 years old and I wanted to stay with her.
In May 1947 someone told Steve about the store at Groom, Texas. We drove to Groom, looked the business over and decided to buy it.
I took a job teaching 5th grade in Groom Elementary. WB Harris was the new superintendent and things looked good for us. I taught the 5th grade for 2 years, during which time we bough a house from Bert Berres for $8000 and traded the little 2 bedroom house (our first house in Groom) in on the new place. He allowed $3500 for the little house. We paid all my salary on the debt and it was paid in full at the end of 2 years.
In 1949, I helped in the drug store and became pregnant with Carolyn and took a year's leave of absence from school. The following year, Stephen Lynn was born, so with 2 babies to care for and helping in the business, I finally gave up trying to teach for awhile.
This is the photo of Mom with the three Stephenson children, Maxine, Steve and myself taken about 1998 in the backyard at home in Groom.
Later in 1953, economy in Groom hit bottom and he had to made adjustments. We let all the help go, found someone to keep Carolyn and Stevie a few hours a day.
Hazel Terbush lived in Groom and was saving to be able to go to Hawaii to join her husband who was in the service. Later Betty West kept them at the same house. Gradually the economy got better and we were able to hire Edna Terbush and her daughter Frankie who worked after school.
We had not attended church very much. The kids went to Sunday school and I went a few times a year. Orville did not go at all. I finally decided that our spiritual life was more important than anything was, so I issued the ultimatum that we go to church. I attended the meeting at the Groom Church of Christ and was baptized. Orville placed membership at the church the next Sunday. That was the last service he was well enough to attend.
In April 1955 Orville got sick and stayed home more every day. He seemed to be getting better, then, about 10 days later he was much worse. It seemed to be a real bad attack of asthma. This was May 6, so I called Carroll Stephenson, Orville's brother and told him what a hard time we were having because the Groom people were not accepting the fact that he was out of the store because of illness and kept asking him to come to the store to do something for them. Carroll wanted me to bring him to Raton NM and I thought a change of climate would break up the asthma. We left at noon that day got to Raton about midnight and checked into a motel.
I called Carroll and he and his wife Dolly came to the motel. It seemed that Orville was irrational and hardly knew where we were. They thought he needed the night's rest, so they took him to their house that night. The next morning, the 3 children and I went to Carroll and Dollys to find out how he was. They decided that Orville should be hospitalized. Tests were run all day. He showed to be diabetic and had been hemorrhaging from his kidneys. In fact, everything seemed to be in a state of failure. Donnie Stephenson, Carroll's son and Maxine took care of Carolyn and Stevie all day. Maxine was 14 and very responsible.
On Sunday night, May 8, Orville was in critical condition, but fairly stable, and I decided I'd better come home and settle things about the store if I could, then go back to Raton. I was very uneasy that evening and decided to go back the next day. I was at Ray Hermesmeyer's station getting gas in the car when Emalea London found us and told us that Orville had died. We went back home, and the kids when to bed. Salita Gross came and stayed all night. Juanita Reed was there too. The three of us stayed up. Carroll took care of things in Raton. Carroll and the Dr. wanted an autopsy, so I consented.
It was May 9 before the body arrived in Amarillo at the funeral home. Carroll (Orville's brother) came by mid-afternoon. Carroll, Maxine, and I went to Amarillo to make funeral arrangements for May 10 in Groom. My parents came out late that evening. Someone from Byron where my folks lived brought them out. The next day, May 10th, the funeral was held at the Groom Church of Christ. As soon as we could leave after the services, we traveled to Oklahoma for the burial at Alva on May 11. Dolly and Don had come on the bus, I.F. Stephenson, Orville's older brother and his wife, Orville's mother and his sister all had come by noon. We drove together to Alva. The Stephenson's stayed in Alva. My folks and the four of us went on to Byron for the night. the next morning, Mamma thought she'd stay at home, but Dad went with us to Alva. I spent the rest of the day with the Stephensons. Carroll was very upset at losing his brother. The Christian Church preacher talked to him a long time, after which time, Carroll decided to become a Christian and wanted to be baptized. We all went down to the building and saw him baptized.
Mom wrote the following description of her family, "In my endeavor to piece together a family history of the Schwindts (my mother's family), I find the first part very sketchy. We do know that the Schwindts went from Germany to Russia to escape compulsory military training. At that time Russia promised the people in Germany one hundred years without any military service if they would move to Russia. Peter the Great, who reigned in Russia from 1682 until 1725 disliked Russia being of Asiatic quality and did all he could to bring western influence into the life of the Russians. So it is likely that he was the first to encourage farmers to locate in Russia. The first we know of the Schwindts, they were in the Saratov Region near Norka, Russia which is located on the Voga Ruver 450 miles SE of Moscow. Peter Schwindt, my grandfather, was born Nov 1, 1840 and died Dec. 5, 1921 and was the oldest child of Nicholas Schwindt and Catherine Schaffer (my great grandparents), all of whom were born in Russia. Christina Lehl, my grandmother was born July 25, 1842 and died Sept. 14, 1918. Grandpa Peter Schwindt was a farmer in Russia like his father. He hauled their products to Moscow on a sled, keeping only enough for the family to live on. The women would go back over the fields after the harvest and pick up any heads of wheat that had fallen. My mother, Lizzie Schwindt was born April 11, 1887 and had three sisters, Elizabeth, Katie, Christine and two brothers William and Little John who died in Russia. They also had two other babies that passed away in Russia.
With the help of his brother "Uncle Nick" Grandpa Peter was able to bring the family to America in 1891. They stayed in Rush County for a little over a year. Grandpa worked for "Uncle Nick" to repay his help for the immigration move. Then, in September 1893 was the opening of the Cherokee Strip in Oklahoma. Everyone taking part in the run for free land was lined up on the state line just south of Kiowa, Kansas. Uncle Nick told Grandpa to run as hard as he could, until the horse he was riding fell dead if necessary. So Grandpa went south to about where Cleo Springs or Fairview is now, but night overtook him and he had not yet found a place. There were some men nearby and because he could not understand English, he was unable to understand what they were saying. However, he did not like their attitude and he was afraid of them so he spent the entire night awake holding his horse.
The next day, he turned back north and selected a quarter section near Driftwood, Oklahoma. I believe the patent on the land says that it was located four and one-half miles south of Burlington, Oklahoma.
As it was sandy, it proved to be a low productive farm, but it was the beginning of a new life for Peter and Christina and they set about improving the farm. He planted two orchards, the last of which was terminated in about 1930. Because it was sandy, a dug-out was not practical and two sod houses were built. The one used as a kitchen was about 8x10 feet. It had a dirt floor and after it was swept, clean sand was sprinkled over it. The other house was larger and it was used for sleeping. Grandpa got that building too large and they had trouble with that structure. As there were not partitions, blankets were hung to afford privacy when they had guests. Later in 1900, they built a more traditional house with 4 rooms "Salt Box" type house. Grandpa farmed until he was over 70 years old. He broke his hip in 1913 and never fully recovered. Grandma broker her hip on Aug. 28, 1918 and lived 18 days after that. She passed away at the home of my parents Sept. 14, 1918. Grandma's body was embalmed and prepared for burial there in the house. Both the grandparents were Methodist, having become Christians in 1892. Grandma could read and was a devoted Bible scholar, but neither she nor Grandpa learned to speak English. The first home place was sold in 1926 to the Warren McVays and is still in that family. Both Peter and Christina's funerals were held in the Bethel Baptist Church at Ingersoll, Oklahoma and both services were conducted in German. Burials were made in Cherokee Municipal Cemetery. Their graves are marked with a large granite stone that bears their birth and death dates and the inscription of the words found in II Timothy 4:8.
This was an article found about the history behind the 1893 Cherokee Strip Land Rush. Mom did not write the following, but I thought it was a great addition to the story that Mother always told us.
They came to the land that would be Oklahoma by train, horseback, wagon and on foot, from every state and territory in the nation and abroad. Texas and Kansas had the most settlers represented. Most had few material possessions but all came with a dream: to stake a claim and make a home on the vast, virgin prairie known as the Cherokee Strip.
President Cleveland and Secretary of Interior H. R. Smith hoped they learned something from earlier "stampedes" for land. They hoped that with better planning they could avoid the troubles and confusion that accompanied the 1889 land rush. Prior to opening the land they established county seats and opened four land offices at Enid, Perry, Alva and Woodward. Homesteaders were to go to these offices and pay a filing fee ranging from $1.00 to $2.50. Filing fees were based upon the quality of land. However, the Strip was to be settled by the horse-race method. To eliminate "sooners," they set up makeshift offices just inside the Cherokee Strip border. Homesteaders were to register and produce filing fee affidavits to be eligible for the run.
On the day of the run, it was hot and dry. Dust, whipped by wind, and thousands of feet, made it unbearable. To add to the misery, soldiers were doing their best to keep order, and see that no one "jumped the gun." The run was to begin only when troopers shot their pistols at high noon. There were several reports of persons shooting a gun in the crowd. Many homesteaders excitedly took off on hearing any gun shot. Such excitement could only lead to trouble for some. One fellow heard the wild shot at four minutes before noon, and took off. Troopers reportedly chased him for a quarter mile before shooting him dead.
Finally, at noon September 16, 1893, a shot rang out and more than 100,000 determined settlers raced for 42,000 claims. By sunset, there would be tent cities, endless lines at federal land offices and more losers than winners. The Cherokee Strip Land Run was a tumultuous finale to what many have called the last American frontier.
Making the race and staking a claim must have seemed simple when compared to establishing a home in the sometimes formidable Cherokee Strip. Many settlers carved sod homes and dugouts from the prairie while others lived in their covered wagons. This was an article found about the history behind the 1893 Cherokee Strip Land Rush. Mom did not write the following, but I thought it was a great addition to the story that Mother always told us.
They came to the land that would be Oklahoma by train, horseback, wagon and on foot, from every state and territory in the nation and abroad. Texas and Kansas had the most settlers represented. Most had few material possessions but all came with a dream: to stake a claim and make a home on the vast, virgin prairie known as the Cherokee Strip.
President Cleveland and Secretary of Interior H. R. Smith hoped they learned something from earlier "stampedes" for land. They hoped that with better planning they could avoid the troubles and confusion that accompanied the 1889 land rush. Prior to opening the land they established county seats and opened four land offices at Enid, Perry, Alva and Woodward. Homesteaders were to go to these offices and pay a filing fee ranging from $1.00 to $2.50. Filing fees were based upon the quality of land. However, the Strip was to be settled by the horse-race method. To eliminate "sooners," they set up makeshift offices just inside the Cherokee Strip border. Homesteaders were to register and produce filing fee affidavits to be eligible for the run.
On the day of the run, it was hot and dry. Dust, whipped by wind, and thousands of feet, made it unbearable. To add to the misery, soldiers were doing their best to keep order, and see that no one "jumped the gun." The run was to begin only when troopers shot their pistols at high noon. There were several reports of persons shooting a gun in the crowd. Many homesteaders excitedly took off on hearing any gun shot. Such excitement could only lead to trouble for some. One fellow heard the wild shot at four minutes before noon, and took off. Troopers reportedly chased him for a quarter mile before shooting him dead.
Finally, at noon September 16, 1893, a shot rang out and more than 100,000 determined settlers raced for 42,000 claims. By sunset, there would be tent cities, endless lines at federal land offices and more losers than winners. The Cherokee Strip Land Run was a tumultuous finale to what many have called the last American frontier.
Making the race and staking a claim must have seemed simple when compared to establishing a home in the sometimes formidable Cherokee Strip. Many settlers carved sod homes and dugouts from the prairie while others lived in their covered wagons.
The first winters were harsh as the land tested the endurance and character of its new inhabitants. Many of the settlers could not endure the harsh conditions, and after weeks, or months, gave up their dream.
The hard times gave way to better days as crops flourished and communities, schools and churches rose from the windswept plains. Over 100 years later, agriculture remains the strength of the economy and way of life. The stories of these brave homesteaders still echo through the Cherokee Strip. Walk through the only remaining sod house, explore the many Cherokee Strip Museums, or visit with people whose ancestors, through grit and determination, settled this untamed frontier.
(the photo below was taken of the original land owned by Peter & Christina Schwindt near Burlington, Oklahoma)
Mom married Henry Britten Merrick, at Brother Dennis's home on March 1, 1956 in Amarillo, Texas. Henry was born April 14, 1906 in Range, Oklahoma. He attended school at Childress and Conway, Texas. His first wife, Lora Wilkins passed away September 1954 at the age of 43. They had one daughter Marlys Ruth who was born November 23, 1943. Henry served in the Air Force during World War II annd was stationed on Adak Island, (Aleutian Islands) in Alaska. Later in their marriage, they would attend some of the reunions of the air men stationed there. Henry owned and operated a farm-ranch most of his life and the farm is now owned by his daughter, Marlys. Henry was first a deacon in the Groom Church of Christ, and later an elder for many years.
In the later years of middle age she would become an active member of the Groom Church of Christ, wrote and published the Groom Area Senior Citizen Association newsletter, active with the Republican party and enjoyed sitting with the election polls when the opportunity arose. She also was an active member of the Las Pampas Daughter of the the American Revolution and served several years as the Regent of the Pampa organization. She helped organize and monitored the "Red Cross Volunteens" for the Groom Memorial Hospital for several years in the late 1960's.
Mom always enjoyed staying busy and would often find small part time jobs that she would enjoy. For several years, after she sold the Groom Drug Store, she enjoyed substituting at the Groom Branch City Library, the Groom public schools, and the Producers Utilities gas office downtown Groom.
Rest in peace, Mom. We will always love you and remember your part in our family and our history.
