CLOVIS BOYS AND THEIR BICYCLES

"I WAS THE STAR OF THE SHOW"

     by Vernoy Willis, CHS "50

Two or three things came to my mind, Mil, after

 reading your recent post---

1.  I had a very nice, modern bike at beginning of War.  It had a compartment between handle bars and seat for a battery operated horn.  I was the star of the show.  We would use my bike as a command car and pretend to be sending morse code messages.  Took a little pretending, but we were good at that.

2.  Our store was next door to auto repair shop so we had some good items to use.  We took our handle bars off and used old salvage steering wheels on our bikes.  It took a little engineering but we finally perfected the method.  Lots of fun riding down the street on a bike with a steering wheel. (and a morse code radio)

3.  The little round green reflectors, for our mud flaps, came at a premium.

4.  We learned to ride the bikes backwards.  Sitting on handle bars facing the back of the bike.  Kind of like driving with a mirror.

5.  Had a good friend stationed at Cannon.  Sometimes he could scrounge up a few pieces of a windshield of a B-24.   Made great, hearts, and other cutie pie things to wear on a chain around our necks... OR give it to the cute little blonde next door.

6.  Had to disassemble our rear wheel brakes and wash with gasoline, put new grease in the chamber, wash the tires, new paint job at least once month and away we would go.

Today's kids would think all of this is nonsense.

7.  Oh yes, if you drove one end of your handle bar into the ground, the other end pointing up, drop a lit firecracker into the upward pointed handle bar, then drop a good size marble, or steelie, into the handle bar on top of the firecracker -   then bang!  you had a small minature cannon.  Lucky to be alive.

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

 "MY SECOND-HAND BIKE COST FIVE DOLLARS"

         by Robert Stebbins, CHS '51

Mil, Vernoy did a good job ---he jogged my memory.

         

I remember some of the guys had bicycles with that battery compartment.  Their bikes may even have had fenders. My second hand bIke that I had in 1946-47, I think cost $5.00, and was not quite as fancy.  It lacked fenders, lights, and a horn, and had a chain that frequently came off. It had been repainted a dark blue.  

Without fenders, it wasn't much of a rainy day bike, but as you know, we usually didn't have to worry much about rain often in Clovis.  $5.00 was a lot of money in those days when I was setting pins at the Playmoor Bowling Alley (between the Mesa Theater and Busy Bee Restaurant) for Mr. Murray for 5 cents a line.  

There was no air conditioning there in those days and very little cross ventilation in the "pits" behind the muscle-operated pinsetting machines  It got pretty hot on a summer day when the bowling teams were hotly competing.

     

I remember one bIke ride that I took.  As you will recall, the old Post Office at Mitchell & 4th had an elevated loading dock and a ramp that lead West down from the back of the post office and exited to Mitchell.  

At the bottom of the ramp on Mitchell, you had to make a quick 90 degree turn to the right while trying to avoid any cars that might have been coming around the corner from the intersection on the left.  

The post office officials probably discouraged bicyclists like me from riding down the ramp, but we used to sneak one in now and then.  You know how the government was.

     

Well, one day I successfully launched myself down the ramp from the platform on my bike.  I had, I thought, carefully looked to the left toward the intersection to make sure it was safe to go.  However, as luck would have it, a car came around the corner and by the time I had reached the bottom of the ramp and the street and before I could turn, the two of us collided.  

The driver stopped immediately, and I assured him that I was not seriously injured.  I may may have had a bruise or two, but no broken bones. Fortunately, in those days drivers didn't drive as fast as they do today.  The car only "grazed" me, but my poor bike was put out of operation for good with a bent frame and broken wheel.

     

That's my bike story.  Today, that kind of incident probably would lead to ambulance chasing lawyers and a never ending lawsuit for who knows how much money, even though I was probably at fault.  

But, we lived in different times in those days.  We took responsibility (or kept our mouth shut) if we were at fault, but today there are much different rules for the "ball game of life". 

     

Anyway, that's my bike story.  Feel free to use it any way you wish. 

  **************

  FOR MIL'S PLACE

  Vernoy Willis, CHS '50

  Robert Stebbins, CHS '51

  10/27/16

"A THOUSAND AGES IN THY SIGHT....."

MIL'S PLACE: THE SIX-HUNDREDTH POST

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

"Lord thou hast been our dwelling place  in all

   generations.

Before the mountains were brought forth or

   ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world,

even from everlasting to everlasting, thou art God.

Thou turnest man to destruction, and sayest

   Return, ye children of men

For a thousand ages in thy sight are but as 

   yesterday when it is past, and as a watch in 

the night.

Thou carriest them away as with a flood; they

   are as a sleep; in the morning they are like 

grass which groweth up.

In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up ;

   in the evening it is cut down, and withereth.

For we are consumed by thy anger, and by thy 

   wrath we are troubled.

Thou hast set our iniquities before thee, our secret

   sins in the light of thy countenance.

For all our days are passed away in thy wrath; we 

   spend our years as a tale that is told.

The days of our years are threescore and ten, and 

   if by reason of strength they be fourscore years,

yet is their strength labour and sorrow, for it is

   soon cut off, and we fly away.

So teach us to number our days, that we may apply

our hearts to wisdom.

     ......PSALM 90: 1-12

-------------------------

        "O GOD, OUR HELP IN AGES PAST"

              .....Isaac Watts (1674-1748)

              ... .Tune: St. Anne, Wm. Croft

"O God, our help in ages past,

   our hope for years to come,

our shelter from the stormy blast,

    and our eternal home.

Under the shadow of thy throne,

   still may we dwell secure;

sufficient is thine arm alone,

   and our defense is sure.

  Before the hills in order stood,

     or earth received her frame,

  from everlasting, thou art God,

    to endless years the same.

  A thousand ages in thy sight.

     are like an evening gone;

  short as the watch that ends the night,

     before the rising sun.

  Time like an ever rolling stream,

     bears all who breathe away;

   they fly forgotten, as a dream

      dies at the opening day.

   O God, our help in ages past,

       our hope for years to come;

   Be thou our guide while life shall last,

       and our eternal home."

-----------------

PRAISE BE TO GOD.

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

MIL'S PLACE

THE SIX HUNDREDTH POST

October 22, 2016

     

THAT OLD, FRAYED MUSTARD-COLORED SPORT COAT

MY FIRST ONE...

                        CLOVIS JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL

There was, I reckon, along about the spring

    of 1948, just east of Clovis Junior High,

maybe 100 feet and on the blacktop---

    a very popular little cafe, called I think.

"Johnny's Drive In."

Kids attending the school in those days had

     no cafeteria at the school; thus you rode

your bike home for lunch, or sat in the 

     bleachers at Junior High Gym, and had

a sandwich and an apple, on stormy days...

Now then, as you may guess---there were 

    some kids who always had money...and they 

let on that the burgers at Johnny"s were "to die 

    for.!"

No, I never had but one...it was on that fateful 

    late spring day in 1948...and thereby hangs 

the tale of the mustard-colored sport coat!

Here's how it all went down, as I attempt to

     recover the story from the mists of time...

After school that day, for some reason, a good

     friend and I (was the "friend" Jack Murphy?)

 sat at the counter, on stools, at Johnny's

     drinking a coke...it was a warm afternoon...

We all knew Johnny, and he himself walked up 

     to us...and surprised us with: "How'd you

boys, like to work an hour or so for a free burger

     and a chocolate shake?"

We 'bout fell off our stools, and said with humor:

     "When do we start?" 

"Right now...my old white garage back there 

     behind the cafe... needs to be cleaned 

out, swept good and proper, and a stack of debris

    piled up to be carted off."

We tackled it...with vigor...all the while sneezing

     from the dust...and salivating from thoughts

of the hamburgers.

Oh, there was detritus galore back there...for 

     awhile I couldn't even spot Murphy, in the

murk...we had to check with Johnny coupla 

    times, on items...

Now, the times were hard...and I had never 

     owned a  sport coat...and I was about fourteen.

And there, hanging on a ten penny nail, on

     the south wall (and visualize it bathed in a 

miraculous golden light) was a beautiful (to me)

     mustard-colored sport coat, with years of 

dust settled on. it..

Glory..ah..glory..ah!!! (He said: "Get rid of stuff.")

I tried it on (sneeze, sneeze)---a little big! Sleeves.

     frayed, moth eaten, and a bit long!

I nearly ran up to the cafe. "Johnny, there is an

     old moth-eaten (I was showing acting skills

that would be evident later in school plays)

     sport coat, a' hangin' on a nail in your garage:

think I could take it home?"

"I'd be happy never to see it again," he laughed!

Murphy and I got our burgers and shakes...and

     Mother about flipped out when I got home

with that dirty, dusty, sport coat..."Er, Mom, reckon

     we could get this dry-cleaned? For me?"

Seems like we shortened the frayed sleeve edges

     and maybe fixed some moth holes...and I

know I wore that mustard-colored sport coat, 

     my very first, with a necktie, to the Boys' 

Debating Club banquet, held at El Monterrey.

     a year later. in the spring of 1949.

Johnny was okay.

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

BY MIL

10/19/16

AN AFFINITY FOR COFFEE MUGS

"UM....WELL.....SO I COLLECT 'EM.....IS THAT BAD?"

The standard line to make the above question

a joke, is: "Ah, come with me to my attic---I

have twelve hundred on shelves!" (Not so.)

Yes, if I am quirky like pundits say all people 

are, I reckon it is my penchant for coffee mugs.

You know, BE thinks we have enough.

But guess what. that day, maybe twenty years

ago, when good old Baldridge Hardware was

still open, down on Indian School Road---I was

in there buying some faucet "warshers" and other

man-stuff, when I spotted the blue coffee cup

pictured above...cool white designs of various 

kinds were carved into the slick blue finish.

I stifled myself as best I could but still walked out

of there with four! They are a neat medium size.

BR cottoned onto those blue ones and they are

now her favorites. I like 'em too.

My most-favorite cups are the "NICKEL COFFEE

CUPS" sold by WHATABURGER in the 80's. There

was one about a block from our office (during my

second career) over on Lomas. Memory says you

paid 80 cents for coffee in one of those cups,

pictured above, and thereafter for life you could

pay a nickel and give 'em your special cup...and

they would fill it!

Over time, I accumulated six of them. BE dropped 

ONE.  We have five left. I like them because of the

handle...note the finger positions.  It's what I drink

from almost every morning.

Note the third picture above---a real genuine Texas

Longhorn coffee cup in burnt orange. Now THAT

IS a good cup. And being a Texas boy, I've always

liked the Longhorns...and burnt orange.

One day in the late 90's, I was headed down on

Carlisle on some business and realized I'd need

to eat lunch down there somewhere...and 

remembered there was a WHATABURGER 

near Carlisle and Menaul.

Thus I left the house with one of my WB cups.

And went into the place and ordered a burger. I

asked for my FIVE CENT cup to be filled. This

created great distress. The surprised waitress

showed my special WB cup to the manager. 

They jawed awhile and according to her, he 

said; "Charge him a nickel." He had hardly been

born when I bought that cup!

After that I decided it wasn't worth the hassle.

We've got some neat Southwestern dishes with

very colorful mugs...but in micro-waving our food 

or coffee, most of the heat goes into the dish...and

who knows---is lead released?

Couple of decades ago we had some dear friends

from Pennsylvania, who returned east every 

summer. They knew I liked unusual coffee cups

and came back every year with one or two. 

It was fun. They brought some weird mugs to us.

I always paid them, over their objections, as they

were living on a retirement income.

An interesting thing is that they loved stopping

for a day in Newcastle---"the hot dog capital of

 the world," (which he knew of from his youthful

days) where he loaded up good and proper on NC

hot dogs.

He always brought us.a bottle of special Newcastle 

"hot dog" sauce.

Alas, our cup cabinet got full, as well as my little

shelf in "the cozy attic," and we had to quit

collecting coffee cups.

In this great life, it seems, that all things---even

good things---must come to an end. But we've 

got enough...

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

BY MIL

10/21/16

BARN IN AUTUMN

 SOMEWHERE IN THE WEST

The old (marvelous)

        barn

somewhere 

    in the west

(doesn't matter where)

Was looking out

     as if with 

          a giant 

square eye on yet 

          another

  cool, fresh autumn morn

         --one more, maybe

in its hundredth year

Was it totally abandoned?

     No more 

milking cows or stabling

            saddle horses?

Not likely "abandoned" ----

    Maybe a home now

         for the usual 

      denizens

like barn swallows

       mud-daubers, crows,

      and likely

  A skunk, a slinky weasel,

           a solitary porcupine

     a random scorpion

and who knows what

           creatures

Every being needs a home

     and

          the rather nice earthy

   smell of old sweet hay

                  decaying

in the barn floor, plus its

      slight warmth

can be       appealing

       to critters

(Ky-oties don't cotton

      much to barns---

          forget them)

Now a little fragrant 

    left-over hay

       in the hayloft

would attract a 

      roving-line-cowboy...

It would be a perfect place

    to throw

        his bedroll

    (with his tarp)

Any shelter

     appeals 

   to a cowboy

Were the cracks 

      planned

or

    was the wood

green...and shrank?

And who stole 

      the door?

The world seems

     to have passed

on by

    and who cares

anyway

     about an old barn

with a square eye

I'll tell you who

Those with perception---

     poetry in their souls

Those with eyes for

     beauty...and history...

Those seeking meaning

     and inspiration

(tired of the madding 

     crowds)

Those who seek 

     solitude

     cool mountain air...

    

 .....and peace.

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

BY MIL

10/16/16

Photographer unknown

    

EL MONTERREY ENCHILADA SAUCE

THOSE MATCHLESS DAYS...

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

There was once

     in the halcyon 

         times

of our lives

     when growing up 

in Old Clovis

A marvelous Mexican

      food restaurant

          way down on

Mitchell Street near First

Now when WWII was on

     we never ate there

          we never ate 

anywhere much, 

      ceptin' at home

Mother would sometimes 

     say (in a kindly way)

about someone who 

     "had money"

"THEY eat at El Monterrey."

Thus I grew up knowing 

     nothin' about no 

tacos, enchiladas, 

      or chillies rellenos

    and "burritos" hadn't 

been invented yet

Dad did buy orange

      greasy, frozen chili

    blocks from Duran

  at Bristow's Grocery

      out on W. Seventh

That was my total knowledge 

     of "Mexican food"

UNTIL

Boys' Debating Club, CHS,

     had its 1947 

        annual banquet 

at El Monterrey Restaurant

The aroma in that place 

     was overwhelmingly

marvelous, tantalizing,

     magnificent, unforgettable.

and GRAND....as was the food.

I was forever  hooked on 

      El Monterrey Sauce

    and Mexican food,

           in general.

So it may be said of most

     of the Clovis kids

who were lucky enough

    to grow up there 

Whether they today be in Fiji,

    or Patagonia

 Pt. Barrow or Sri Lanka

    Maldives Islands, Reykjavik

or Perth

And someone says:

    "El Monterrey sauce"

Their eyes widen,

      brighten, their 

pulses race...

And they shout:

        "WHERE?"

     

Returning Clovis kids

    visiting their old hometown

are known to have 

     bought cases of Monterrey

Sauce powder

For it is still is made by 

     someone and available

at some times

A deluge of returning 

    CHS graduates,

converging on our hometown,

       should be expected 

  if such news as this

       ever goes out:

"EL MONTERREY HAS 

         OPENED AGAIN"

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

BY MIL

10/18/16

dedicated to Vernoy, CHS '50

     

   

WYLIE..... ON THE JORNADA DEL MUERTO

                                 The Organ Mountains

Here we are in the great Chihuahuan Desert, the 2nd largest Desert in North America. Covering parts of these Mexican States--Chihuahua, Coahuila, Durango, Zacatecas and Nuevo Leon as well as parts of Texas, New Mexico and Arizona. Comprising 142,000 square miles.

So what? Well, if you travel South of Socorro, you are in this desert.  Our recent travels started in Alamogordo, West on US 70 through White Sands Missile Range, to Organ Pass, Town of Organ, Butterfield Park, Las Cruces, (where the dreaded Jornada del Muerto begins), north through Dona Ana, Hill, Radium Springs, Ft. Selden, Rincon, Rodey, Hatch, Salem, Garfield, Derry, Arrey, Caballo, Las Palomas, Williamsburg, Truth or Consequences, finally to the City of Elephant Butte.

All this time in the Great Chihuahuan Desert.  More on the Jornada del Muerto--in the early days, before statehood, the trip from Las Cruces to Socorro was a death march, made so by the Apaches who would attack wagons, settlers and merchants from Mexico, along with soldiers who chose to make the 100 mile journey without water and no chance of water and only the food you carried or game you shot, even though the Rio Grande was only a few miles away, knowing that the apaches would attack anyone foolish enough to try and reach the Rio.

We had a rather civilized 142 mile trip without concern of savages attacking or the dry trackless trek affecting our little group.  My wife and her two sisters and the two men in the family enjoyed the lunch and travel back down the River to Las Cruces for some shopping.  All in all, I would say that I would rather live in this time rather than the more Romantic and Idealized west of the pre-Statehood days. 

Just another day in the Chihuahuan desert.  So what is the largest desert in North America?

Wylie Daugherty
CHS '53
10/13/16

WYLIE TAKES A TRIP

Another good story by our friend Wylie.......

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

Yesterday we made a journey from Alamogordo to Roswell, through a most beautiful valley.  We jumped on US 70 here in Alamo, turned east in Tularosa and went through the following, Mescalero, Ruidoso, Tinnie, San Patricio, Bent, Hondo, Picacho coming up on the Llano Estacado to Roswell and Dexter. 

While getting there was important due to the funeral services of the Father of our Son-in-law, the trip was a bonus. The Hondo Valley is lush due to the rains and apple and cherry orchards that are very ripe, if you want apples, apple-juice, cherries or juice, this is the place.

As we reached the end of the Hondo Valley, just before the Llano, the trees began to have lighter colored leaves, getting ready for the end of the fall harvest times.  The starkness of the vegetation from rich valley to treeless Grassy Plains was something to behold.

As we passed San Patricio we saw the Peter Hurd Loop, Hurd and his friends were gentlemen horsemen, when the weren't playing cowboy polo. Robert O. Anderson, a neighbor of Hurd and Chairman of Atlantic Richfield Oil, was a regular player of their polo matches.  The highway through the HondoValley is the Joe Skeen Memorial Road.  Joe was a rancher and neighbor of the guys above, as well a State Senate Leader for many years.

A Peter Hurd side note:  in 1966 when our Credit Union League held an educational conference near Santa Fe,  there was a display of Peter Hurd paintings at the National Museum of Art, we were able to attend with many of our conferees. Hurd gave an excellent presentation of his paintings as well as his wife's (Henrietta Wyeth). He told about the portrait he did of LBJ, which was rejected by Johnson with the comment "it's the ugliest thing I ever saw".  Hurd's response:   ( looks just like him). 

Hurd's water colors of his Daughter and the Hondo Valley were hits with everyone. I owned a set of the water color prints, but allowed them to disappear over the past eons.

On our way home to Alamogordo, we were blessed with three rainstorms, with light shows and thunder, at three different locations in the Hondo Valley.  The green of the Valley is prettier than I have ever seen it.  A delightful trip, even considering the circumstances.

A trip worth repeating.

Wylie Daugherty

For MIL'S, 10/2/16

Peter Hurd Gallery:

http://hurdgallery.squarespace.com/purchase-prints/peter-hurds-gallery/

LIFE IS TOO SHORT....TO USE PAPER PLATES

OUR NEW CHEERFUL MEDIUM PLATES

We were getting ready to go to a big social deal

of B.E.'s, and I was tying my favorite yellow-and-

black striped necktie, which looked sharp against

my black dress shirt...topped with the light sport

coat.

"It is going to be great fun," she reassured me, 

"lots of interesting people there!"

(I visualized previous events with wall-to -wall

people, standing and wedged together, so that

if anyone passed away, they remained standing

until it was all over.)

"Should I eat a peanut butter sandwich on Nature's

Own, before we leave?" I (who was starved) asked

eagerly.

"No, no!" she said, "you will absolutely love the

spread of snack food---I guarantee it! Millie always

has plenty to eat!"

We arrived and I, not knowing anyone, was more

interested in eating, than talking. I elbowed and 

slank my way across to the big long table.

A pretty maid was slicing thin slices off a big

Virginia ham, onto half ciabatta buns..there

were little smokies floating in grape jelly sauce,

chicken wings, con queso dip with nachos or

veggie pieces; there was a whole plate of exotic

olives, candied jalapeños---onion dip, green 

chili dip, artichoke dip...and Lay's to-die-for

"Kettle" potato chips...also brats galore...and

picayune meat balls! I can't even recall it all.!

For a hungry guy, it was marvelous, simply...

"OUT-STANDING!"

AND, are you ready for this? There were little-

bitty PAPER PLATES---about the size of saucers.

(Seeing these pitiful little plates, any self-respecting 

red-blooded man, who arrived alone... would just 

turn around and head out to Quarters, or 

somewhere for some good barbecue.)

A spread like that...and paper saucers?!

The dip and chips alone would fill the receptacle,

and make a nice soggy bed for everything else

you night be able to load on.

Having had some experience at these deals, I

used double saucers, but they sagged 

dangerously...I could foresee numerous sneaky

trips back and forth to finish a "complete" 

meal!

You get the idea. 

Oft at holiday dinners and such, ladies want to

sort of announce, in an unspoken way---"This

is not a big deal or a big main meal, see the paper

plates...it is informal, etc. etc."

Some people use paper plates often.....

and thus have to turn on the dishwasher only once

a week. If you are batching, this might be a plan, 

if you can put up with those things.

They are not friendly and a steak knife will cut 

right through 'em and sliced tomatoes or 

Thousand Island will then leak. They bend, and

they twist;  they sag...and...may fold!

I knew a guy who had an overloaded one

that just folded-in-two an spilled most of his 

food...right in a living room...in front of people. 

Anyway, I suppose we people, politically correct

or not, maybe have a few "peremptory dislikes"

coming in life...and I am using one right here:

I dislike paper plates...life is too short!

I "bend" a little...they might be handy at church

picnics at the park, fishing trips (if you forgot 

your tin pie pans), and backyard cookouts.

In principle...

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

BY MIL

9/26/16

46th ANNUAL ALBUQUERQUE INTERNATIONAL BALLOON FIESTA

ALBUQUERQUE BALLOON FIESTA

                     ....FIRST WEEK, OCTOBER

The New Mexico State Fair ended last night

after a ten or eleven day run, and now the

attention in these parts is already focused 

on the big world event about to happen here!

Usually some 600 plus balloonists show up

from all over the world. Weird and unusual

balloons participate in what is termed  "The

Special Shapes Rodeo," and this is only one

of the big extra attractions.

There are events early every evening at the

special balloon park (which I believe even

has permanent buildings now, including a

museum);  at night these balloons light up 

beautifully for a "Balloon Glow."

The balloons fly nearly every morning of the nine

day event. which ends on the second Sunday.

"Pilot balloons" go up before dawn to read

the weather and wind velocities.

Generally speaking, one or two "ascension"days 

each year are cancelled due to rain or winds.

This is equally true with the night events.

This popular "fiesta" began circa 1975 with a

dozen or so balloons ascending from the State

Fairgrounds. It then moved for a year or two to

the  Coronado Shopping Center parking lots.

Land was eventually purchased on the North side

of town...For a time a full-time Mexican Restaurant

existed out there.  I am not certain if another took

its place.

The name of the balloon game is food and 

festivities! On the east side of the facility are

rental spaces which fill up with the Airstream

folks. They can sit outside their mobile homes

and have breakfast and watch the whole thing,

daily.

Burritos seem to be the unofficial food of the

event, and since it occurs at breakfast time,

there are countless vending booths on the east 

side, stretching several hundred yards, selling

food...and caps...and jackets...and balloon pins,

and I don't know whatall. Oh, and sweatshirts

with ballon photos on them!

It is a rather grueling daily event---when you arrive

early, stand up for several hours...particularly if

you stay to watch the parachutists jump..

...and hear the Fat Lady Sing!

**********

MIL

9/19/16