THANKSGIVING DINNER DOWN IN DAWSON COUNTY

"POP'S PLACE"

Well boys, the old year is getting away.

It's TG time again, and I am reminded of many 
TG's over the decades, particularly those in the
thirties and forties, down there at POP'S PLACE, 
in Dawson County, at his neat little farm, several
miles SW of Lamesa....and a mile from the oil well.

My mother and aunt-in-law were both about 5'
10 1/2" tall and country girls who had grown up
picking cotton---my grandmother could cook
like nobody's business---now when those three
started on TG dinner, early that morning, it
was a sight to make THE COOKING CHANNEL
folks stare with open mouths...and jealousy!

Their sauce, you French cooking snobs, was
BUTTER! (My grandad POP'S sauce was SAGE...
more on that.)

Now here was the menu as I remember it.
There was a big turkey, ham, green beans,
English peas, mac-and-cheese  for the kids,
"hot 'uns" (old Southern bread recipe---"have
another hot 'un?") There was always a jello
dish of some kind. Usually green or red.

There was giblet gravy and I never cared for 
all those liver chunks in my gravy...and of 
course the corn bread dressing ...now for
many years, My POP, who was noted for
loitering around the edge of the kitchen,
(as if some prep nurse, wanting to get a
hand in  the surgery) would hit the uncooked
dressing, when nobody was looking, with a right
smart of sage...I mean a right smart.

Well, nobody liked sage in our family,
oh maybe a half tsp in the whole deal.

The wimmIn'---being IRON CHEFS, like
Bobby Flay, long before the cooking
channel folks were borned, solved the
sage problem---they gave him an apron
and his own little pan of dressing, and
he, being so proud, became sort of a
"sous chef" in the kitchen, though
with a "sage breath" from sampling
his little pan!

My young bright wife watched them do 
that dressing, and now she can make 
it with the best of 'em. I do the corn
bread and biscuits, tear them up, and 
she puts it together. Real good hefty
nice BROTH, she says, is the secret.

No, we don't care  for the "EYRSTER"
dressing my Brooklyn colleague used 
to rave about. De gustibus non est 
disputandum..

Every family has its traditions, and it'd
be interesting to know yours. My
mother's family's, down in Dawson 
County, was a BIG fruit salad in a big
bowl covered with real "whip" cream.

Now, the fruit salad had chopped apples,
oranges, bananas, grapes, pecans,
coconut, plus real farm-produced
whipped cream, which was known to
the Iron Chefs, as simply "whip cream."

Egg nog was popular in those years at
the TG and Christmas celebrations, out 
on the farms where there were plenty
of fresh eggs from the roving chickens.

You had to watch Pop. He had some
kind of strong flavoring he was fond of
adding to the egg nog, when no one was
looking.

There was no football on TV....
    No Dallas Cowboys or Texas A@M
In fact there was NO TV!
    But there were quail everywhere,
under the mesquites and cacti...

My uncle, and gangling 6' 4" tall, a real 
    quail hunter if there ever was one,
and my dad and I would head out
    that afternoon for some quail
hunting..

POP, who was fiftyish, passed on the 
     hunting and sacked-out on the 
living room carpet...

where farmers napped after big lunches.


******30******
BY MIL
11/25/14

"WE LIVED IN A CHICKEN COOP DOWN THERE AT WINK"

Wink, TX, (Pop. 918)

Once upon a time, Mil, age-three, lived in a chicken coop

at Wink, Texas.

Talk about hard times--those were. Decent common people,

like farm boys and Gospel preachers, trying to make an

honest living, often at a dollar or two a day, lived wherever

they could.

$14.95 for a dinner (today) of three cheese enchiladas, rice, 

beans,chips and salsa, and sopaipillas would have cost some 

men, then, fifteen day's pay. A $3.95 cup of coffee with whip 

cream on the top would have bought a week's groceries for a 

family---you know---bacon, potatoes, beans, a sack of flour...

Now, I've gotten ahead of myself...

My dad, circa 1930 or '31 was a young fellow about 20 years 

old, "just trying to have a place in the sun," and marry my

mother. He'd done a little steam laundry work down in Dawson

County at a dollar a day. Good pay, then.

He heard there was work at Las Vegas, Nevada....they were

building the Hoover Dam, one of the biggest, most ambitious

engineering projects ever attempted by man. Lots of men had 

jobs out there!

During the construction of that dam, over 100 men perished.

It is said that some were entombed in the cement itself.

Conflicts arose over "cause" of death, as many were said

to have died from carbon monoxide poisoning, while working

in tight spaces in 140 degree heat, with generators running.

Apparently, if one died from monoxide, the possible claim 

would be nullified and different from say, a fall down into the 

dam itself.

The Hoover Dam---1244 feet long,  660 feet thick, 726 feet

high---held back so much water that it deformed the Earth's 

crust  and caused small earthquakes for several years.

My dad hitchhiked out there...and got a job in a steam

laundry which was going full-blast...he and a buddy got

a dollar or two a day, and slept on cots in the back of

the laundry.

Hoover Dam

Accumulating a few bucks, and homesick for my mother,

(yet to be his wife), Dad set out for Dawson county,

hitchhiking. He remembered riding with a trucker and 

buying some pork 'n beans at Roswell...you went 

whatever direction you could get a ride, and he wound 

up down in Van Horn, Texas or somewhere, sleeping

by the train tracks with hoboes, in the mesquites, his 

wad of bills folded in his right shoe.

He rode a train to Big Springs, Texas, and arrived 

home at Lamesa with a few bucks, and the laundry

guy in Vegas owed him $75.00, which he swore he 

would send, "someday."

Now, somehow my dad took his little nest egg and 

got a job in an "egg factory" (don't ask me what)---

earning a buck or two a day. He and Mother married

in April 1933.

I, waiting in Heaven, ("trailing clouds of glory do we 

come from heaven, which is our home..." Wordsworth),

got here the next year, for better or worse....

(Once a few years later when I was about three, Dad, 

came home from his laundry job in Lamesa, and ate

a sandwich. I was playing with my truck behind his

car...unbeknownst to him...he backed clear over me...

knocked me down...he heard something and jumped

out and there I was, back playing with my truck...I 

vaguely remember that a little bit...maybe I was spared

to sing of the marvelous love of Jesus Christ...later on...)

Now, Dad somehow knew a man, R.H., in Wink, Texas, 

who had a nice little steam laundry...he liked Dad and 

offered him a job at Wink. The ironic thing was, RH

said, "Well, I owe old Joe out there at the LV laundry

some money, and if'n you'll come work for me, I'll

give YOU the $75.00."

So it was done...and we moved to Wink.

Now, in those days, one didn't shop around for a nice

three bedroom home with fireplace and marble

cabinet tops...one lived wherever one could afford a

roof.

In our case, it happened to be an empty chicken coop

at the back of the laundry...RH said: "If it'll help out,

you can clean up that hut and live there free, as long

as you need to." 

So Dad, being an expert with steam, by now, rigged up

a steam hose, trailed it out from the laundry, and 

steamed out that coop, good and proper. If you know

anything about how hot steam can be, you know that it

could have been an operating room, after Dad handled

it.

My farmer Grandad "Pop," up there in sandy Dawson

County, a cotton-farmer, somehow let us know (Uh, 

there were no cell phones, and not many any-kind-of-

phones)...  "I am bringing you a gift..."

One day, my dear "Pop," drove up in his drab, tan

'37 Dodge, pulling an old cotton trailer behind...

He fooled around the trailer a bit, and came around

the car leading our "gift" into the chicken pen, our

"front yard"---

It was....a cow.

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

BY MIL

11/13/14

"A HARVEY WALLBANGER KILT MY ROOSTER"

TRUTH CAN BE STRANGER THAN FICTION
*************************************************

She was a lady,
    no question.

Worked at the movie studio
    keeping things clean.

Vacuumed in high heels and
    her fur coat!

Drove two '59 Jaguars,
    XKE 150 convertibles...
one turquoise and one white...
    chosen daily by the mood
she was in.

Lived on a few acres
    out in the valley
with her friends---

Foghorn Leghorn, a three-feet 
    tall, two year old Rhode 
Island Red rooster...

Also, Lippy LaRue, a male sheep, 
    who liked riding in the back seats
of convertibles.

There were other household pets---
    Ewes, Shirley, Maisie, and
Stacy, the six-pack Heineken drinker...

And lastly, the sheep called
    "Old Man," once a movie star,
advertising ivory Soap.

The lady, lonely, depended on these
    friends for companionship and
each day at five o'clock Happy Hour
    she had a drink with Stacy or
Foghorn Leghorn, her beloved rooster.

One day, she was drinking with 
    Foghorn, and he wanted two
drinks...(he was young and under 
    age),  so he had Two 
"HARVEY WALLBANGERS," 
    fell off his perch
and broke his neck.

Broken -hearted, the lady was
    heard to mourn:

"It was the Harvey Wallbangers
    that KILT HIM."

*******30******
BY MIL
11/13/14

THE LAST TOMATO

IT'S A LONG TIME 'TIL NEXT AUGUST
************************************

There's
    only one left...
         from 2014.

It's sitting here waiting to be
              eaten
    in a much-anticipated
          BLT sandwich
tomorrow.

It began
    as a small fragile
         little plant
but oh the potential
    of small little things
         on this planet!

How many dozens of 
    big red tomatoes
        were provided
by that tiny pitiful-looking
    plant...

Which was planted at the end
    of the windy
        month of May
and held on thru hot June
    and hotter July.

It was "iffy" for awhile...
    but the little plant
        grew up big
and drank a lot of water...
    even grew to depend on
         the Old Hot Sun.

In fact, it was nuthin'
    without the Sun.

Those tomatoes have brightened
    many'a summer and
        autumn day...

Just listen to this: tomatoes for---
    Spaghetti sauce...homemade 
         salsa...salads...hamburgers..
               chili con carne...
BLT sandwiches;  breakfast with
    eggs and bacon...or then, there's

Tomato soup...cabbage stew...
    Tomatoes covered with cottage
         cheese...black-eye peas with
cornbread, cantaloupe, and tomato slices...
    or maybe the best of all:
        bologna sandwiches, with four
             tomato slices, each.

Yes, it's all over for this year...
    except for the fried green tomato
                     folks...

....and our LAST TOMATO for tomorrow's
                       BLT sans...

Ah, but what about "store-boughten" ones?
     "We won't go there."

W.L.M.

Bob's Tomatoes

Cabbage Stew

BLT!

*******30******
BY MIL
11/12/14

MEMORIES OF HIGH SCHOOL, CLOVIS, CLASS OF '51

 BY SHADE GOAR and MIL

THE 2006 REUNION IN ALBUQUERQUE 

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

MIL: 

*****

The CHS Class of '51, since graduation, has

had ten reunions. The years for these were 1961,

1976, 1981, 1986, 1991, 1996, 2001, 2003, 2006,

and 2008. 

Through the 1996 reunion, the class met in Clovis, 

in the the shadow of Seventh and Main, almost

holy ground to an old Clovis kid. These reunions 

were skillfully planned by Gsne and Phyllis Walker

and other '51 grads living in Clovis.

A fellow CHS '51 graduate, Jimmy Whatley, planned

a special reunion, and pulled it off, mostly by himself--

way down in the middle of Texas Hill Country at

Kerrville, Texas, in 2003. Jim was always a congenial

and much-loved member of the class.

Partly due to airline convenience and other factors,

Wanda King Snipes took over the planning of the

reunions, with her husband, Art---and the latest two

reunions were held at a fine hotel in Albuquerque.

She was assisted in carrying out these events by 

the Walkers, Sierens, and others.

SHADE GOAR: 

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

The thing I remember about the '06 reunion is noon 

on Saturday. Most of the classmates

went shopping. Art and Wanda, Jim Whatley and his 

wife, Edith, Sherman and his wife, Marcia Stebbins,

Bob Stebbins, I,  and some others were sitting at the 

big round table in the meeting room, talking.

Something was said about lunch. Wanda suggested

we get the left-overs from the fridge in Gene and 

Phyllis's room. We got the leftovers and for the next

2 1/2 to 3 hours sat around telling stories and laughing,

and eating!

When we broke up, Sherman's wife told me that she 

had been irritated because he didn't want to go 

shopping. but she was glad that he hadn't wanted to go.

MIL: 

*****

Shade--- Donna and I were one of the couples in

that little meeting room, while all our fellow guys from

CHS '51 were out shopping with their wives (and 

having the time-of-their-lives.) That little session was

maybe the most-fun class encounter ever--- for Shade

didn't mention it, but Sherman, who was earlier in his

life  a military jet pilot---and of all things---Art was a former

pilot, (and most of us didn't know that) ...and I'll tell you, the

funny stories flew "thick" back and forth. It was a treasure-

of-an-encounter

Right in the middle, Erlene Hren, CHS '53 came into the 

bull session and Jim Whatley and Edith left with her. We 

ate-up most of the cold cuts left from Friday night.

Marcia Stebbins told Wanda later on that it was the best

reunion she'd ever attended..."mainly because of Shade

and Mil..." That was nice, and I asked Shade: "What did

we do?"

But soon after, along The Trail, several classmates were

to leave us---Jimmy Whatley, Jerry Roberts, Marcia

Stebbins, Wanda Snipes, and Sherman Williams.

SHADE GOAR:

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

When Art took me and Bob Stebbins to the airport, we

had some time to visit about our lives as kids, and how 

little we knew about each other. I lived out in the

country, rode the bus, and did not socialize back in town.

I didn't know you were just an "old farm boy" like me.

A note about Noel Dougherty---he was one of our first

classmates to start the first grade at a three-teacher

school---first through eighth grades. The school was 

called Claud. It was located 13 miles north and one east

of Clovis---on the northeast corner of a section of land,

which at the time was owned by Claud Gamble. 

The five classmates were Dave Collins, Noel Dougherty,

Sue Taylor, Bob Wilhite, and me--Shade Goar. Dave and

I were the only ones to go through the sixth grade at

Claud.

Noel's family moved to Yeso for a time. Sue's family 

moved into town Clovis for awhile, but I believe she

finished the sixth  grade at Claud. Bob's family moved

down close to town before we finished the sixth grade.

In 1946 my father bought the section of land from Mr.

Gamble, and the school property eventually reverted

to Dad. Wanda King (Snipes) and her brothers also 

attended Claud for two or three years. She told me

she started there in the third grade.

MIL:

*****

On the last (Sunday) day of the '06 reunion, as many 

of us old CHS '51 friends were eating that great free 

breakfast there at the hotel.... early that morning before

departure,  I was eating breakfast with Jim Whatley.

He got up from his chair, and said: "Don't tell Edith,

but the biscuits and gravy are so good, I'm having
some more!"

As we sat there, with Jim at the end of the table, 

and me on his right, Don Todd came up and there

being no chair on Jim's left, Don just kneeled and

we got into a discussion of computers...Jim loved

his computer, and I'll never forget Don listening

to Jim with wide-eyed-respect, kneeling there,

listening. Those guys were very fond of each other.

That was the last time I ever saw Jim, and we had

been in bi-weekly touch by emails. Don flew to

Kerrville for Jim's service. I have a tape.

The '08 reunion was held at the same hotel, (nice

accommodations there) and planned well by Wanda

Snipes. On the last Sunday morning, Don Todd and

I wound up at the same table, this time without Jim

Whatley, and we had a nice talk over breakfast, 

about our histories and experiences, as the meeting 

was ending

As we talked, my photographic memory, flashed up

a photo I took one morning about sixty years earlier

of Don---standing by his Cushman, in front of

Murphy's Grocery...one morning before school...

as if he were going in for a loaf of bread. 

Yes, a lot of water had passed under the bridge

in those sixty long years.

Wanda was planning, in her mind, that we would

have another reunion, but at a dinner at our house

August of '09, she indicated to me that she might

not "be up" to doing another one.

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

BY SHADE GOAR, CHS '51

and MIL

10-02-14

MUSINGS ON WALLY'S POND

 It is not given
             that everyman
        Who ever lived
             could have 
         HIS OWN POND
              a nice one
         Like this one

         Think of all the fun
               every day---
          You have
                Your own
           Resort

          Just look at the woods
                there, all around
           Hickory, ash, sycamores,
                 Pecan, walnut, oak...

            Exercise counted by 
                 "laps around the pond!"
            And a little dock for diving
                   and launching canoes

            Here along the shore
                 the willows and cattails
             and the lily pads flourish
                  adding oxygen to the 
             clear cool water
                   where the bass play
             and jump for flies...

             See the exquisite green hues
                   that only a Master Painter
              could create...

              Here, where the catfish nap
                   on hot afternoons
              under the cattails---
                    a good place to drag out
               the rickety old lawn chair
                     from the bushes
                and set a spell, and ponder,
                      and enjoy...
                and be grateful

                Yes, if only every man 
                      could have
                 a pond

*****30*****
BY MIL
10/22/14

I REMEMBER THE THIRTIES

 Art and Mil, cir. '39

I HEARD JOE LOUIS FIGHT...ON THE RADIO!
*******************************************************

Bet I can do something, most of you
    can't! That is---
Remember the Thirties!

They were both good times
    and bad.

At least everyone then loved
    the good old USA---

Yet Hitler was working up to
    begin a war, which
would eventually cost the world
    seventy million souls.

Little kids, starting to school
    were innocently playing
Red Rover and eating
    "plumgranites."

A dollar was a dollar, and
    some people worked
all day for one.
     my dad did.

Avalon smokes were nine cents
    a pack...I know---I was
sent to buy 'em, at the little
    Red and White Store
there in Clovis on West Grand.

Bread was nine cents a loaf....
    Bacon was nineteen cents
a pound, and pork 'n beans were
    twelve cents a can...

Candy bars--- Hersheys, Snickers,
    Baby Ruths, Butterfingers,
Black Cows, Walnettos, and Bit 'O
    Honeys were all a nickel...

Wrigley's was a great gum in those
    days...and was five cents...

Coffee was a nickel and no one
    dreamed of paying two
or three dollars (the price of a
    steak dinner) for a cup
of coffee, in those days...

A three-scoop ice cream cone
    was fifteen cents, and a
good thick "malted milk" was
    thirty-five cents.

NEHI orange and grape soda pops
    BARQ's root beers, twelve
ounce PEPSIS, DELAWARE
    PUNCHES were all a nickel...

as well as the fascinating, strong,
    eye-watering
six-and-a-half ounce COCA-COLAS
    that came in the little weird
tinted-green funny-shaped bottles.

Adults drank them.

Even Cracker Jacks, born at the
    1892 Chicago World's Fair,
were a nickel...and you got a free
   prize in each box!

Clovis was a marvelous, quiet little
    town, filled with good Americans---
all trying to get along in life...
    There were three movie
theaters, a tall new hotel, and a
    Woolworth's, right in the
middle of town...and the pride of all---
     The Barry Hardware Store!

The USA hadn't yet experienced
    Pearl Harbor, or WWII, and
lost over a half million sons and
   run up a WWII debt of
288 billion dollars, while helping the
    whole world with "lend lease."

The Doolittle Raiders likely hadn't
    learned to fly yet.

All that was ahead...in THE FORTIES.

Little Mil started to school at La Casita
    over at Thornton and W. Seventh---
at the tender age of five; early
    September, 1939, while Germany
was invading Poland on some pretext.

As I sit here this cool fall day of
    November, 2014, drinking a strong
old fashioned Coca Cola and eating
    a box of Cracker Jacks...
I can see it all, back then, seventy-five
    years ago....it was.

The "old planet" has turned over many
   times since those days...
Most of our friends and loved ones
   from then are gone...

Many, many great American boys have
    paid the ultimate price for
our freedoms and way of life...

Now the questions hit this old-timer---
    Is the USA being ruined by its
politicians, illegal immigrants, and
    foreign ideologies?

You young citizens need to read
   history...
and be alert.

  ******30******

BY MIL
11/04/14