THE MOST POETIC SCENE AT POP'S FARM

Maybe there are a few nice, special places on this 
earth, given to each of us for our happiness and 
memories...and after all, are we not a part of all 
we've met...?

Much has been written about POP'S PLACE and
today I am going back there again.
********************************

In your memory of maybe your grandad's
     or maybe your uncle's farm......
What do you reckon was the most poetic
     thing about them?

I knew POP'S Place, like the back of my hand;
    It was poetic, all over!

It was poetic in its incredibly still, warm, 
    afternoons...

Then came those days with the sun and 
    warmth, but gentle afternoon breezes
with slight gusts to swirl the sandy soil
    slightly, or just sift it along, over 
the top of older drifts.

You had the feeling that sand, a million years
    old---knew secrets ...that it would 
not divulge.

    Isn't there a poem, something like--"a boy's
will is the wind's will...and the thoughts
    of youth are long, long thoughts!"
That poem fitted being at Pop's....

He had an old retired "knifer" made of two- by -
    twelves, standing edge-wise to straddle
the cotton, and with long angling blades
    to knife the weeds---weathered and half-covered
with sand; it had a rusted iron seat---perfect
    for little boys to sit on and daydream!

What is more homey out on a farm on a quiet
    afternoon, than rambling, roving, 
hungry "puck-picking" chickens, seeking those
    invisible, juicy, snack morsels they somehow
spot on the ground...here, there, and everywhere,
    as they enjoy their rambling freedom....

A red-tailed hawk is slowly soaring and circling
    about, over the  farm, and in particular
over the barn, chicken pen and garden patch---
    hoping to spot a mouse or a small
juicy snake!

Yes, and poetic is my grandad's rock fence---
     Built in 1938 of brownish-maroon
rocks, quarried from who-knows-where...
     Beautiful fence three to five feet tall,
Encircling the whole house area.

Across the fence is a half-section field
    of cotton, with rows so straight,
people cannot believe their eyes!
    Yes, a miracle! Pop believed in
straight rows in farming and in life!

Then there was his garden, guarded on
    both sides by two or three rows of
tall corn---beans, black-eye peas, 
    squash, okra, cantaloupe, green beans,
watermelons, cucumbers, pumpkins,
    and tomatoes!

There was a cozy, but sparse room
    on the back of the garage for
the "boys..."

There was a "shelf"under his big barn 
    roof, filled with bundles of clean
hay and alfalfa; a needy family could
     have lived there---as one family,
in fact did, in a similar barn in John
    Grisham's "The Painted House." 

Pop's whole property, fence, house,
    garage, barns--all was 
new in 1938, and I was there!

His giant elm windbreak, west
of his house, was a marvelous
    retreat for little boys.

In his back bedroom, which was
    usually the den de facto
for farmers---in those days---
    over in the corner sat his Philco
upright radio; it entertained and
    informed him and Mom through
many cold winters.

Alongside it, in a little space in the
    corner, was my uncle's plain-stock
unengraved-wood Cloverine Salve
    .22 rifle.

Poetry and exciting places and things
    were practically oozing from every pore
of my grandad's farm....everywhere
    I looked!

I, often on hot afternoons, sat in the cool
    grape-smelling air under his grape
arbor. Two large stainless milk buckets
     swung at the end of the arbor, airing for 
the next milking---getting  fresher with every
    breeze that came along!

The loose  sand was scooting around on the
        older sand, and swirling ever so slightly---

 Several chickadees were flitting around in
    a nearby bush, making all kinds of
quarreling racket!

The old windmill was turning in the wind and
there was its familiar "CLUNG! CLUNG!"

It all touched me. The most poetic scene that
     day was a combination of all this---the grape arbor,
  the airing, gently-swinging milk buckets, the swirling-
     sand, the playing chickadees....and
  the wonderful smell of grapes!

******30*****

BY MIL

7/17/14

OUR FRIENDS---THE BIRDS

"HIS EYE IS ON THE SPARROW....
    AND I KNOW HE WATCHES ME!"
***********************************

Sometime, "back last spring," I sent out
nine-year-old "DEAN'S BENEDICTION," which
he prayed at the the conclusion of our children's choir
that night at FBC, Artesia, in 1955.  It seems
I have been inundated from many sources with warm,
loving, bird stories ever since that account went out!

Little Dean, one of my favorite kids prayed:
"Lord, help the world as it goes along...and the
the little birds---that they will do nicely. Amen."

(A lot of people feel this way about birds... to the
extent that a good many millions of dollars are
spent annually on bird seed and related items!)

-----One of the nicest little stories came in from
Bobby Joe, one of our writers: "I like birds. I have
a Ring Neck Dove that begs me for grain when I
go out in the mornings. He (or she) cautiously flies
down to the ground where I usually feed him and he
walks around pecking on the ground.

I talk to him and go to the barn to get a little grain
and he will hop up on the sidewalk and follow me a
short ways to the barn. I get a little grain and pour
it on the ground and just stand there real still and he
just comes and eats away....I call him---'My Pet.'
It is interesting and fun!"

-----Then my  friend Betty, of many years--- wrote
on Facebook a continuing story about having a mallard
duck living in her backyard. She lives beside the Rio
Grande, and somehow this beautiful bird set up
permanent housekeeping with her!

-----Dr. W.L,  Retired Professor of Biology from Texas A and M, and noted  lecturer, sent me a most interesting story about how buzzards are largely unappreciated. 

by K. McSorley

-----Robert Stebbins, a classmate of CHS '51, and a
popular writer for Mil'S, sent a compelling story about
how his little canary was birthing baby canaries and it
caused great drama at his house, as the grandkids were all
involved.

-----The lady who helps out sometimes with the
house work was telling us recently that one of her clients had
given her two parakeets.

------She, being full of interesting stories, also told us a
most-humorous tale: Her mother once had a three-and-
a-half-feet-tall Rhode Island Red rooster---a long-time
"member of the family," and her mother's "drinking-buddy."
Yes, they used to have happy hour together!

Alas, one unhappy, happy hour, they both had a couple
of Harvey Wallbangers....the rooster couldn't hold his
booze, fell off the fence and broke his neck.

-----Maybe all birds are not friendly. Clovis News Journal
had a story last week about some lady's wig being
attacked by birds as she exited her house. I must research
that one a bit more....the question of course being,
"who's at fault" in that situation?

------This nice description of birds from Bubba R. up in the
Midwest....."Do you guys have the Asian doves down in
Florida yet? They are all over the Midwest and are much
larger than the native mourning doves we sometimes
shoot. Out West there is no limit on the Asian doves as they
are not indigenous and the wildlife departments want to keep
their numbers down as they are competing with the native
migratory ones. I have never seen one on our feeder.

Sometimes the woodpeckers and small sparrows will bring
their young, as they have just fledged, and will force-feed
them from our feeder. Our feeder will load up with many
wrens, sparrows, jays, cardinals, flickers, and so on.
Yesterday we had five different mom turkeys bringing five
groups of young turkeys to our yard or just pass by in the
plowed field to our east. I have not been feeding them because
they will sometimes hang around and dig up the lawn.

Many big toms also come by to visit with us. One yesterday
was a record tom---had an approximately eleven inch beard!
I do not allow the hunting of anything near the house."

-----Closer to home, the Beloved Editor moved our grain cylinder
bird feeder from the backyard, to a window by my writing desk,
saying: "If we build it, they will come." For ten days, we had only
a few scouts checking things out---then all of a sudden five
days ago they descended on the feeder big time---eating only
five feet from my eyes---and the doves, particularly, checking
me out with each bite!

Now I realize that we have a permanent situation here---I am
wont to turn my head to the left and check out our bushes and
feeder two or three times per minute!

So there is no ending to this story---as long as there are birds,
people will watch them and love them. Little Dean's prayer
seemed kinda "cute" that night, but I've come to see, there was
wisdom in that kid!

We think we found him, a PhD., professor of Statistics at Baylor
University. A good choice of a scholastic field---statistics. He has
probably needed that to count the thousands of varieties and species
of birds the Creator has put on the earth.

And the hugging my little friend is probably out too---he is 67.

by Mil 7/25/14

Sent from my iPad

I WAS THERE---TAKING PICTURES!

DRAGGING MAIN EVENT---JUNE 28, 2014
***********************************************
Story by Bobby Joe Snipes with Mil,
       PHOTOS by Bobby

The much-anticipated and awaited Dragging 
Main Event, one that commemorated a custom
dear to the hearts of older Clovisites, as well
as newer ones that had never experienced it,
went off without a hitch, from 5 p.m. to 
midnight...or maybe even later for some!

The Editor of the Clovis News Journal, David Stevens, to
whom much credit is due for the event's promotion, 
planning, and success was seen
here and there---cruisin'.

A lot of old timers were spotted...some in 
pickups, and there were a good many vintage
collectors' vehicles joining the parade--- some
which had not even been extant in the forties 
and fifties.

Vehicles were there that we wouldn't have thought
of back in our day. 

A young lady came by on a really NEAT red 
three-wheeler! 

There were young people in hot rods!

The big surprise for me was a cool Peterbilt
truck revving up big time at Seventh and Main!
Wouldn't mind having one of those myself!

The crowd reached all the way to Fourteenth Street.
I have no idea what the actual "attendance" was
for the whole event but at times I felt like half
the town of Clovis was there...and with most of
of their vehicles!

Betty and I were there, and we saw many old 
friends; it was a happy time, and I think we can
say that "a good time was had by all."

We hope Clovis does it again in 2015... but better
still, wouldn't it be nice to see the old custom
renewed once again...never to be discontinued.

*******30******
Story by BOB SNIPES, CHS '53
    and MIL, CHS '51
PHOTOS bY BOB SNIPES
7/12/14

IT'S A STILL, WINDY DAY

It's a sunny, quiet, still--windy day,

    (as I sit here at my writing desk  

pondering, musing, and meditating)

    and looking out the window 

at the warm sunshine!

I've discovered an oxymoron, I think,

    as I watch my bush weave 

in the wind...yes, it is windy outside, 

    but somehow "still"---on this day.

The fresh air is blowing in, thru the window;

    You can smell the peacefulness

in the air, reminding me of other days,

    other times, other summers...

long ago....O the stillnesses we can recall

    in our lives...

We were kids, on Reid Street, in the forties---

    Hot summer afternoons---

Playing marbles.... often no wind...

    Often very hot...heat was rising...

There was barely enough lift,

     for those horseflies to hover.

And the stillness (maybe a bit of a gentle

    breeze) at Pop's Place, down in sandy

Dawson County, Texas,  on a summer's day you

    could nearly smell the air with 

farms smells that hung over the sandy drifts,

    and were almost pure.

Oh, the peacefulness of a farm pond or one in

    the woods! Or a creek---on a quiet afternoon!

The trout are asleep in the cool depths, along

    with the catfish...a young lad is also asleep

on the bank, with his cane pole lying by his

    side, along with his dog...

and his float is bobbing idly in the water.

    A few flies of one kind or another, are

cruising the pond surface...and droning.

There is noise everywhere:

I have heard car radios blaring unspeakably

    loud(ly).

I have seen (bits) of cacophonous concerts

   on TV where the youth scream and raise

their hands and jump around...

Sometimes I fear that this music will become---

      the music of the church.

Yet, at my age, I prefer stillness. peace...

    My heart craves a tuning...each day...

I believe Psalm 46:10

    "Be still, and know that I am God."

Yes, sitting here on this still, windy day,

    with  the gentle breezes coming in

Looking out the window...and thinking

    long thoughts of times past, of many

other summer days...remembering 

    some old friends...

and thanking the Creator....

    for it all.

********30******

BY MIL

6-11-14

Sent from my iPad

"DRAGGIN' MAIN" --- WHEN DID IT BEGIN?

CLOVIS MAIN STREET 1908
(See heifer, bottom left, cruisin')

After extensive research, we have assumed that  draggin'

Main  began early after 1907, when HEIFERS were seen 

doing the eight blocks....and that's NO BULL!

In a more serious vein, it was possible that teams and

wagons cruised Main, but we have no definite proof of 

that---it is mere speculation. Whether kids got the wagons

for Saturday nights is a fact lost in the mists of time.

The dragging Main-in-automobiles likely began sometime 

in the thirties. Most Clovis kids my age learned about it in the

forties  when we got our driver's licenses.

Before that, we had "no need to know."

Main dragging times were Friday and Saturday nights, and

Sunday afternoon.  On Sundays, traffic was bumper-to-

bumper---better not look around.

I did---and rear-ended Jimmy Abernethy in front of Montgomery

Ward. Meador's Chevrolet charged $55.00 to fix my dad's

pickup---a $1,000 job today.

All kids had different dragging routines. (Some parked and 

watched.) Tiring of the eight blocks of Main Street, we often

went out First and circled back around on Prince to 14th

to Thornton, Grand, and Main again. 

Sometimes we'd head out Seventh all the way to a movie

in Melrose --- usually on a Saturday night.  There

was also a movie in Portales and a pool hall in Texico.

We never touched booze, but one night, a bit bored, we

headed out all the way to Taiban, just to see what all

the fuss was about. Well, there were six or eight cars

out there, west of Clovis, parked at a seedy-looking little 

building, which we assumed was a bar selling liquor. A 

wasted four or five gallons of gas....

In those days gasoline was twenty-five cents a gallon.

With several kids in the  car, we could easily buy twelve

gallons of gas.

Susan Stebbins Mallory shares her memories of those

days...."I know it ended many years ago. I left Clovis for

the last time in 1968 and there was no dragging Main then.

We often drove out First, circled a drive-in out there---

returned to Main and then went out Seventh to circle

the Foxy...and gas started to get more expensive, and

many started parking around Gateway Auto at Main and

Sixth, and stood around talking and watching the cars.

As gasoline went higher, more and more friends joined

us there.

On Sunday afternoons we'd drag Main til six p.m. and 

then we had to head home.

What fun times we had in those days---especially when

we could turn around at the end of Main, near the train

station! Do you remember the crows which gathered

in the trees around there and the city had trouble 

getting rid of them?"

Who would have ever dreamed that "Draggin' Main,"

as we knew it, would end. I guess it went the way of

many good Clovis things...such as our dear old high

school building, Coney Island, Busy Bee, El Monterrey, 

La Casita School, Eugene Field (?), Woolworth's, Barry

Hardware, Duckworth Drug, Carmack's, Jack Holt's, and

others.

Maybe it's on its way back, with the "Gear Head

Gathering and Main Dragging" of June 28, 2014.

I was unable to attend that event, but Bobby Joe, 

one who loves Clovis history was there, saw and 

absorbed it all, and got great photos.

His pictures will appear on MIL'S PLACE.

(I personally saw Bobby Joe dragging Main in

his neat little maroon 48 Chevrolet coupe,

after a Friday night football game, circa 1952.)

*******30******
BY MIL
7/12/14

"THE DESTROYER ESCORT THAT FOUGHT LIKE A BATTLESHIP"

USS SAMUEL B. ROBERTS, DE 413

******************************************

On THIS FOURTH OF JULY, we Americans 

remember with a deep sense of patriotism, reverence,

and pride one of the most courageous United States

ships, captains, and crews in the history of the 

U.S. Navy!

The Samuel B. Roberts, DE 413, a relatively little ship

at 306 feet by 38.8 feet and called affectionately a "TIN

CAN," battled for its life, October 1944, in the

WWII---"BATTLE off SAMAR."

On that day, the small ship earned its place in one of

the most historic and heroic sea battles in American 

naval history.

Admiral Halsey's Fifth Fleet was charged with covering 

and protecting  the supply ships and troops ashore at

Leyte Gulf. But Halsey felt Americans had a score to 

settle with the Japanese carriers from Pearl Harbor days.

Hearing reports of enemy carriers approaching from the 

north, Halsey took the main Fifth Fleet, and headed north,

to intercept; but the Japanese ships were decoys sent for

the express purpose of drawing him away from Leyte.

Thus the Leyte beachhead and support ships were left

covered only by TAFFY THREE, a small force of ships 

made up of six small escort carriers, three destroyers, 

and four DE's, the Samuel B. Roberts being one of them.

Sneaking into the action from the west, though the San 

Bernadino Strait was a powerful Japanese Task Force

made up of four battleships (including YAMATO, biggest

in the world, with 18.1 inch guns that could throw a 3000

pound shell 22 miles), eight heavy cruisers, and an estimated

dozen or more destroyers.

The Americans didn't run...except toward the overwhelming

enemy force! 

Commander Robert Copeland on Samuel B. Roberts, turned

DE 413 directly toward the fast approaching enemy ships 15 miles 

away, signaling his crew: "This fight will be against overwhelming 

odds and survival cannot be expected."

The Roberts charged right into the middle of the enemy,  along with

other DE's and destroyers, making smoke and with all guns firing.

Its five inch shells "bounced" off the battleships. Roberts' three

torpedoes blew the stern off the enemy heavy cruiser CHOKAI (which

later sank,) and proceeded to mix it up in a vast melee of gunfire,

expending 600 five- inch shells at all targets.

Finally blasted open by two 18.1 heavy battleship rounds, and 

numerous other shells, the Samuel B. Roberts began to sink.

(Ironically, this was the only time in YAMATO'S existence in

in which its 18.1 inch guns were fired in battle.)

American dying sailors were seen, as later reported by survivors--to

be dragging five inch rounds to those guns that were still firing.   

(These men were later decorated, posthumously.)

The Roberts sank with eighty-nine crewmen still aboard and one 

hundred twenty survivors. These men floated in the sea off

Samar for fifty hours before being rescued.

The Japanese Admiral was totally confused by the heavy resistance

(for the planes from the escort carriers, though few, had got into the

battle),  and he being fearful that he might be approaching the main

force, turned his ships around and exited the area.

The courage of a small force of American sailors and their officers

had saved the day, in an epic sea battle---likely the only one of its

kind in the annals of naval history.

This Fourth of July we will pause for a moment to remember these

men and all the others who have helped preserve our Liberty!

*******30******

BY MIL

7/3/14

IT'S FOURTH OF JULY AND THE NATIONAL MUSEUM OF THE MARINE CORPS IS OPEN!

by Robert Stebbins 

NATIONAL USMC MUSEUM

LT. GENERAL LEWIS B. "CHESTY" PULLER

with Robert Stebbins

Recently, I jumped on a crowded airplane and flew to South Carolina to visit my first and oldest friend, Billy D. Hill. We met in Clovis, New Mexico in 1938 when he was six and I was five, friends for seventy-six years.  The almost 1,000 mile round trip enabled us to relive school memories, enlisting in the Marine Corps, attending the University of New Mexico together, and then going our separate ways in our careers and eventual retirement. 

       We hadn't seen one another for a few years and wanted to spend some quality time together.  So, we decided to visit the National Museum of the Marine Corps located at Triangle, Virginia, 36 miles south of Washington, D.C. It is just off of I-95 at exit 150 and can be seen from the highway.  The architecture of the museum evokes memories of the raising of our U.S. flag on Mt. Suribachi on Iwo Jima in 1945 during World War II. The museum is open every day of the year except Christmas Day.  Admission is free, and parking is free.  It opened in 2006, and occupies 120,000 square feet with another 80,000 square feet on the way, including exhibits on Iraq and Afghanistan.  The Marine Corps base at Quantico is nearby. The museum is funded jointly by the Marine Corps and the Marine Corps Heritage Foundation.

MARINE CORSAIR

     If you don't envision a trip in person, you can visit the museum at  www.virtualusmcmuseum.com.  I suggest you first check out the instructions in the upper right corner on how to navigate the website. It's a good one.

     We were particularly impressed by the Iwo Jima exhibit at the museum. Frank Matthews, an 88 year old former Marine, Iwo Jima veteran and docent, works 20 hours a week to tell of his experience on Iwo Jima operating a flamethrower. You can find his story by Googling "Frank Matthews Iwo Jima".   Billy and I felt privileged to shake Frank's hand.

     South Carolina, well, it is a little different from California.  Temperatures ranged in the low 90's with accompanying humidity.  Not exactly the San Diego area.  But, the food alone was worth the trip.  We had delicious ribs with seconds and thirds all included in the price.  I now know where the National Football League finds its defensive linemen.  Everyone is overly friendly.  You just can't pay your check or buy anything without striking up a conversation with someone you have never seen before.

USMC MACHINE GUNNER

     So, if you are ever on the east coast, save some time to visit the National Museum of the Marine Corps.  Remember, admission is free, parking is free, and it is open every day of the year except Christmas Day. If you are even slightly interested in history, especially that of World War II and Marines in the Pacific, I guarantee that you won't be disappointed.

SGT. ROBERT STEBBINS, USMC

-----30-----

For Mil's Place

Story and Pictures by Robert Stebbins

7/1/14