Some of these stories are just images in my mind and remembered because of the telling of them by my Mom, Dad, grandparents, Uncles and Aunts.



I was three when Mom and Dad bought the place I was raised on. I have images in my mind of the place Dad sharecropped on (The Hightop place - thus called because of the old two-story house on it). I remember the old pot-bellied stove and playing on the stairs. Dad had closed off the upstairs because they didn't need the room and didn't want to heat it. I remember getting my first pair of boots (mail order). I guess when someone ask me where I got the boots I would tell them Hito brought them. The mail carrier's name was Cleto Franklin and I couldn't pronounce his name.

I remember Mamma telling about me throwing a fit to go with Dad one time, but he couldn't take me because he was working. He left in the old '29 Chevy and I got on my little scooter and went up the road after him. Mamma had to walk quite a ways to bring me back home. I thank God for my Mamma who had the patience to deal with me.

I've images in my mind of moving when I was three years old. I remember standing in the seat of the car and watching them drive the cows down the road to our new home. I've been told by one of my uncles (C.W. - my Mom's youngest brother) that he rode a horse, my grandpa McEntire drove a team and wagon loaded with house-hold items and Dad drove the old car. I guess it was all of 15 miles to where we moved, but at the time it seemed like quite a journey and was a great adventure for a three year old.

I guess after moving to the place at Reydon, Oklahoma, I started climbing our old windmill tower so I could see farther. Dad removed the bottom steps and probably gave me a swatt or two. But I remember later tying haywire through the holes so I could climb up and see the Ana Lo Pills - I later came to know them as the Antalope Hills. I guess I was in training for working on Derricks when I grew up.

I also remember sitting fire to the front yard with a Coal-oil (kerosene) lamp that I had taken out of the house without Mamma knowing. And I remember begging Mamma to whip me before Dad got home but she wouldn't.

I remember not being able to correctly pronounce a lot of words and a neighbor, Bob Craykraft, who couldn't talk very plain either, would mimmick me. He would call Dad, Ulzie (Elzie), my sis he called Heta Hay (Cleta Faye), and there were several other words I can't remember that he used until the day he died. By then I was talking like the man on the six O'clock news, well... maybe not, but talking okay anyway.
Bob Craykraft was always my buddy. He got a kick out of teasing me when I was small and as I grew older we developed a good rapport. Bob and his wife, Tommie, were childless and Bob liked all little kids. I remember when I was ten or eleven I'd get off the school bus at Bobs when he had boom corn hands in the field. I'd get in about two hours pulling broom corn (you pulled the dwarf variety, but the standard had to be tabled and cut with a hook-billed, broom-corn knife). Anyway, Bob would pay me in cash at the same rate the men were making.

I remember the peace and quiet and talking to God as I walked after the cows. I would listen to the birds and I recognized many by their calls and songs. Though I guess I was a little ornery, I did pick up a strong sense of right and wrong from my parents and grandparents that helped me as I grew older.

I remember my great-grandad McEntire when he was about ninety years old. He had been a Baptist preacher most of his life. As he grew older he began to show his age with memory loss and he became quite child-like. I remember him begging his daughter to come home with me. I also remember that he was very agile and he would walk after the cows with me. One day, I had found a den of Sand rattlers in a box canyon. I said to him, "Listen to this PawPaw." I jumped down on an old stove and those rattlers really set up a commotion. I didn't mean to scare him but it sure did. He marched me back to the house and informed Dad that I wouldn't be going back after the cows until I had a pair of high-topped boots (he wasn't too senile at that time). It worked out good for me because I got those boots!

I remember about this same time riding an old blue cow we had. I'd walk after the cows and start them toward home and then as they passed through a cut on the trail, I'd run up the bank and jump on ole Blue's back. They would just keep plodding on and I'd ride all the way to the barn.



I also remember selling Cloverine salve to a lot of neighbors that milked or had calves nursing cows. The salve was good for sore utters. I'd tie a sack full of the little tin containers on the horn of my saddle and ride around trying to sell them. Some of the people probably bought a can just to get rid of me.