Any child who has the good fortune to have older sisters and brothers, some of them young adults, is in a most unique position. He is likely protected by his sisters and at the same time challenged by the brothers. “You are too little” were fighting words. I insisted on doing every thing my brothers did, especially if it looked like fun.
The creek was very close to our house — in fact you had to cross it to get to the barn lot. A log bridge was used to get from the house to the lot and crossing it was one of my great adventures. I have never known whether my mother assigned some one to be on guard to pull me out of the water when I fell in or it just happened that some one was always there. By the time I was five years old I had learned to swim so it was no longer necessary to provide a life guard.
There was so much to learn on the farm and I had so many “teachers” around me all the time, school didn’t seem very important to me. Also when all of my brothers and sisters went to school I had the cats, dogs and even the chickens and turkeys to keep me busy. But one day when I was five, I suddenly got the desire to go to school. My mother said I could go and my sister, Virgie was to look after me. (Who worried about a birth certificate?)
The teacher was a man with a long white beard who was affectionally called “Ole Man Terry.” There was no class· for me so I amused myself visiting about the room, writing (marking) on every ones slate, talking and having a good time. Mr. Terry put up with me all day but at the close of school he called to me with these parting words “Young man, if you come tomorrow I am bringing a needle and thread and will sew your mouth shut.” Mr. Terry solved his problem — I was much happier to stay home.
The school building was about two miles from our home — a little white building by
the side of the road. The school term was usually four months or when the money ran
out. Usually a new teacher was employed each year. I have often wondered why that
was. Perhaps the school board believed that a teacher would expend all his knowledge in
one year and a new source was needed or it may have been teachers enjoyed new fields
of labor. However that may be my royal road to learning was launched in this
beautiful little school.
Miss Anna McCallister taught me, the mysterious skills of reading, writing, spelling and arithmetic. After her, I had Miss Floy Birdwell, Mr. Keathley and Miss Edith Long in successive four month terms. I was never told what grade I was in and I was allowed to progress at my own rate now we have a new system known as non-graded and individualized instruction. But my teachers didn’t know about that. My father bought my books at Graves and Stamps store in Des Arc as we hadn’t heard about free textbooks either.
My sister, Estella, became a teacher but after about a year of teaching she had returned home and a young man who lived over the hills on Peach Tree Fork came on horse back to visit her. I would meet him at the gate because he always brought me something. Candy or chewing gum but especially at Christmas several packages of those wonderful little firecrackers.
Then one day I was let in on a great secret. There was going to be a wedding — my sister was going to be married and it would be at our house. The entire family spent many days in preparation for there was to be a big dinner after the wedding and many guests would be there. I was very happy because the bridegroom was Leander Henson, the dashing young man who came on horse back and brought me firecrackers. On the wedding day I was told that I had to put on my Sunday clothes even though it wasn’t Sunday. Wagons filled with people, began to arrive and it reminded me of the Sunday Crowd at church.
When the elder Henson family arrived, they brought with them an unusual instrument. It had a huge flowered horn attached to a wooden box with a crank on the side. A small black cylinder about the size of a water glass turned around and out of the horn came beautiful music. When the wedding was about to begin, the music started and peeking between the big people crowded in the room I could see my beautiful sister standing in front of the room beside Leander Henson.
The music must have been Mendelssohn’s wedding march coming from that big horn (I think they called it a grapha-phone). When the music stopped my father said a lot of words (he was a preacher) and then there was a prayer. The bride and her new husband led the way to the dining room and the feast began. My first wedding in a little farm home in the wilderness of Camp Creek could not have been more beautiful to me if it had been held in Westminister Abby.
And that was not all there was the on fare. The next day all of the quests gathered again at the bridegroom’s home on Peach Tree Fork and celebrated with another big dinner. Again we listened to the beautiful music and heard Uncle Josh tell about the lightning rod. All of this, I have since learned was a custom described by Vance Randolph in one of his books about the Ozarks.
The labor on the farm must have been drudgery to the older members of the family but to me each day was a new adventure. Sheering the sheep and picking the geese were special events. When my mother picked the geese it was my job to hold the old ganders head so he couldn’t pinch her with his bill. I usually told him a story or threatened him if he didn’t behave.
In the fall when harvesting time came, the greatest event was making “molasses” (sorghum). My brothers, Eli and Millard with the help of Charlie to drive the horse, started grinding the cane before daylight. It was, cold and there would be frost on the cane but the juice had to be ready to cook. A fire was built under the “vat” and the juice started cooking by 8 o’clock. I hated to look at the horrible green scum as the juice boiled but when the finished product was finally drained into one gallon tin buckets it was more delicious than honey. It sold for fifty cents a gallon. My father made the molasses for the neighboring farmers and received a portion of it for his service.
