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Home Front Letters: Carmel Vila

Posted 07.16.08 at 2:58 PM

Thanks to Carmel Vila, of Jefferson, La., for this unique description of the wartime dinners that her mother served to servicemen far from home. Paris is now anticipating the many soldiers who will be training at Camp Maxey, but let’s hope that the men and women don’t have to suffer politely such meals from well-intentioned “cooks” (about like me).

Generally there were at least five of them, and my mother would begin dinner with a glass of unsweetened grapefruit juice, served in small jam glasses. She always put a sprig of mint on each glass, trying to make it festive and gay. Then she would present the baked chicken, her specialty, and one could always bet it was overcooked. It was dry, stringy, and tasteless, but the boys had been taught manners, and they smiled and said how really delicious it was. Then, of course, Mother would pass around the lumpy mashed potatoes, overly thick gravy, and overly large peas, since they were cheaper than the small ones ... The garlic bread was spread with heavy masses of butter and garlic, both needing to be melted much more than they had been, and sometimes an extra treat was a few corn muffins, burnt and hazy looking, but presented with a smile.

Along with the oversized peas, a bowl of fried carrots. Yes, you’ve read it correctly — fried carrots were passed, and everyone took as few as they could manage. Mother had read in McCall’s (a popular women’s magazine) how carrots could be cooked any number of ways, and the way she seemed pleased with was either boiled to pulp or fried black. The young men ate some of everything, no matter how it looked. It was a food comedy, and how they kept straight faces, I will never understand. Their faces must have hurt when they left my home.

Our dessert was always cut-up slices of watermelon, sometimes cubed, sometimes cut in shapes — one never knew what to expect. Many of these were Yankee boys and not watermelon eaters, but she would smile her sweet, southern smile and say, ‘Now don’t be bashful, son. Eat your nice melon, and then we’ll have coffee.’ They would push it around the plate, and in the end, they would squeeze the juice out, leaving only fiber floating on the plate. Watermelons were very cheap during those years and fed a multitude of folks. Each Saturday she purchased a mid-sized melon for thirty cents, and we had melon every day of the week. I grew to think everyone had melon as dessert.

Finally, after Mother and I cleared the dishes, she would bring out the coffee pot, which was old and dented, but she was convinced that the coffee which poured from it was the best that money could buy. Sometimes she would put whipped cream on top of the coffee, making it, in her eyes, much more festive, and she would then offer a ten cent bag of those vile little after dinner mints of pastel colors to end the dinner properly.

Sometimes the guys would help Mother with the dishes, and when all of the thanks had been said, and all of the repeat invitations had gone out for another Sunday dinner, the guys and I would walk down the block to my best friend’s house, where we were able to play records and dance in her basement. She always had Kool Aid and gingersnap cookies, and some of the other girls would come to dance as well. When the time came for the guys to take the bus back to camp, my mother was already making plans for the following week’s dinner. She worked from early Sunday morning until four in the afternoon on Sunday, but she was always ready with her dinner and enjoyed the young company that I brought. They adored her, and for years we received Christmas cards from some of them thanking her for her southern hospitality and her fine dinners.

Home Front Letters: Joan Novak

Posted 07.14.08 at 10:59 AM

Joan Novak writes from Baxter, Minn., that she was only 10 years old when the war began. Her mother will be 100 in December. However, Joan remembers much about those years.

“I do think the economy is going to have a severe setback some time in the future. It will not be as bad as the depression, but the younger set will be devastated. They are not used to going without. Too much easy credit is out there floating around to cover their every whim. I think it will be a good thing if it does not last too long. The world needs a ‘come-up-ance,’” she says.

I asked her what she remembered of women’s affairs during the war.

Cosmetics were not a priority with me at age ten. Nylons were almost impossible to get ... Silk stockings were still in vogue (if you could get them). Leg makeup was used by the women. Some even drew lines down the back of the leg to make fake seams. Needed help and a steady hand for that.

When my mother worked in the defense plant, she sewed copper wires on the dials for submarines. It was piece work. They got paid for how much they put out. A quota was set, and if they went over, they got more money. The women had breaks of ten minutes in the morning and ten in the afternoon. They cut the cigarettes in half so they could finish smoking before the ten minutes were up. Bathroom smoking was permitted.

We did not have a car, but we lived close enough to work so my dad and mom could walk. They had an hour for lunch and came home to eat. Ma would prepare things to eat the night before, and I could finish cooking or heating the meal. When the factory whistle blew, every kid in the neighborhood knew they better be home for dinner.

The first big purchase after my mother went to work was a big white refrigerator. Up to that time, we used ice for keeping things cold. I remember taking the red wagon and walking to the ice house to buy a big block of ice. Then we would ask the clerk for a chip of ice to eat on the way home. Sure was glad to get a refrigerator.

Montague County

Posted 07.07.08 at 1:37 PM

Here’s an interesting website to investigate: http://www.totty-families.org/diary/jun1876.html.

The great-great-great-granddaughter of Capt. F.M. (Frank) and Rhoda Totty has transcribed numerous years of the diaries that Rhoda kept from 1876-1881, and she has put them online. I am their great-great-granddaughter. John Harvill was their son-in-law, married to Anna, one of their several daughters. My Harvill heritage is long and rather colorful, and its roots are in Montague County, Texas. I return to this scenic county once or twice a year, and each time that I do, I feel it calling to me.

I spent much of my childhood on a big ranch that my father owned, most of it playing and riding horseback on over 900 acres. My dad, habitually a very cautious man where his family was concerned, just turned me loose on my horse, once he was convinced that I could start it, stop it, and turn it right or left.

I had great times on that ranch, usually by myself, riding on roads, across pastures, and even in the deep canyons that once marred the landscape. Now they are dammed up and provide bottomless pools of precious water. The canyons were magical worlds of their own, the banks towering above me, and the beds so wide, and often filled with dry sand that I could ride in them.

This past weekend I returned for our annual homecoming, and several of us made a pilgrimage to a nearby ranch property to see the old Bean Cemetery, where the Tottys are buried. (The Beans were their neighbors.) It’s overgrown with bull nettles and thorny briars and poison ivy, but I did see the two Totty graves, side by side. About a quarter mile from the cemetery, we found the Totty cabin site.

The rock chimney and fireplace are still standing, in near perfect condition, and by my estimation, it’s been standing there on that site for over 132 years. Someone has rudely desecrated the site by constructing a modern deer stand on it.

The cabin stood on a sloping rise of land above bottomland which must have contained the crops and fields that they farmed. Capt. Totty was an early-day Texas Ranger, so he was absent much of the time. Rhoda did not spend the night alone in the cabin, if she could help it, but she had family members and neighbors in close proximity and would sleep over at their cabins. Why did she fear being alone? Indian attacks, of course.

Standing on the cabin site gave me an eerie feeling. I can’t imagine what it was like to stand outside and wonder if I were being watched from the dense bushes and trees growing near the cabin. The pioneer cabin that is housed in our own historical museum in Paris, Texas, is very similar to the Totty cabin, with one difference: the Tottys only had one door, and the cabin in the museum has two. These cabins were virtual fortresses and could be closed up against the Indians, but they could also be set afire and turned into furnaces for the occupants inside.

I don’t think, in all these years, I’ve ever felt such a strong familial connection as I did last Saturday at the Totty cabin site. To think that a small group of their descendants was walking around the place where they once lived — 132 years later — it was a powerful feeling.

It’s also amazing to think that Rhoda wrote in her diaries, year after year, by fire and lamplight to record the daily happenings and the names of those with whom she visited back and forth. There were also small churches nearby. In May 1876 alone she speaks of attending services at two separate churches. Forestburg, several miles distant (its community center is the site of our annual homecoming), was probably their nearest market town and would have been an easy half day’s wagon ride, I estimate. Their wagon road, in 1876, would probably have gone cross country instead of around by the road we traveled to get to the ranch gate.

I can easily lose myself in wondering what it was like in the past, but I would not have wanted to live in that cabin. Rhoda writes of suffering “the blues” from time to time, and fearing an Indian attack would have been enough to give me the blues.

Home Front Letters: Lottie Thompson

Posted 07.02.08 at 3:45 PM

I had an interesting letter from Lottie Thompson of Lewistown, Penn. Lottie remembers the ’40s quite well, but she wasn’t writing about the ’40s this time.

She was just telling her news and what she does in her routine, and something she said really caught my attention. I thought to myself: we’re on the way back to how it was in the ‘40s. Give a listen to this.

“… I’m making plans to move up around there to be closer to my girls. They tell me I will be sorry, but I still think I need to be near them. With the price of gas, I can’t expect them to come down to see me. Yes, my girl friend has a car. When pay day comes, she and her son and another friend of ours and me all go to the bank and the food stores together. We try to make one trip for us to the bank, food store, and the drug store to get our medicine in one trip.”

Here we are in the age of technology, and our retirees (and a lot of other folks, too) have to band together and share cars and split the cost of gasoline just to do the monthly chores. They did it that way when they were young working folks and gas was in short supply. I wonder if any of them feel a bit like they’ve been in this situation before? How funny. If it weren’t so sad, it’d be funny.

PJC Housing in 1946

Posted 06.13.08 at 10:05 AM

How far we’ve come at Paris Junior College.

On Jan. 7, 1946, The Paris News printed this headline: “Housing Seen for PJC Vet Students.” Married veteran students were soon to be occupying three-room pre-fabricated houses on campus. Dr. J.R. McLemore, president of the college, had applied through the Federal Housing Authority at Fort Worth for 12 houses for the coming term and a total of 24 for next fall.

Married students were then occupying two trailer houses and one apartment. Unmarrieds would find plenty of room in the dormitories, he said, and the existing cafeteria could take care of “unlimited numbers.”

The proposed houses would be insulated, easily constructed, durable and adequate for the needs of a couple. They would contain a combination living room and bedroom, a kitchen, and a bath, and they would be ready for occupancy almost immediately because of the ease with which they were constructed.

Home Front Letters: Shirley LaRosa

Posted 06.11.08 at 9:57 AM

Shirley writes, from Pahrump, Nev.:

It seems in the old days before the big grocery chains and supermarkets, a lot of food was sold individually. For example, there was a store that sold nothing but fresh fish. Outside this fish store, there was a man who, all day long, ground horseradish (on a grinder) to order. You bought the horseradish from him separately and got it fresh. I believe it was put in a paper container.

Then there was a shop that only sold chickens. The fowls were slaughtered and hung up on hooks until all of the blood drained out. What a sight to see when you walked into that shop. The smell was horrendous, too.

For fresh fruits and vegetables, a truck would come around the neighborhood, and the ladies of the houses would go down to meet him and buy off his truck.

The one store that always fascinated me was actually in a dark basement. The two men who owned this business were brothers, and they worked all day long “candling eggs.” They held up one egg at a time to a light bulb to see that there were no baby chicks inside to surprise the cook when she cracked it open. At least, that’s what I thought then, as a kid. I remember how excited the brothers got when they saw two yolks in an egg. Can you imagine testing eggs that way, one by one, for sale? They were also able to detect if an egg was rotten, and these were thrown out on the sidewalk for the cats.

Today, you can go into a Wal-Mart and buy a complete outfit from shoes and socks to a sweater and ski cap. Back then, they had specialty shops. One such store sold ladies’ undergarments. You were fitted for your bra and girdle, pinned to your measurements. The clerk would then go to the back of the store, and, on a sewing machine back there, she would stitch up the garment to fit you.

Thanks to Shirley for these delightful memories. Nowadays, most shoppers have to go to a dressing room with a variety of garments and sizes and “fit” themselves. The only clerk you often see is the one at the cash register to take your money or, more likely, your credit card.

I particularly liked her memory of “candling eggs.” I’ve heard that expression, but not in many years. I still float my eggs that have been in the fridge for a while to see if they’re good.

I think it’s sad that the big stores have put the little mom and pop shops out of business. My dad bought his gas at a mom and pop gas station out on Bonham Street, and the couple actually lived in the house attached to the station from the back. I can’t remember these people’s names, but it started with an “Mc.” I think the woman was Leslie Chapman’s sister. Help me out here, if any of you remember that little gas station way out on Bonham Street.

World War Two Archives Exhibit

Posted 06.10.08 at 11:02 AM

When you’re in the Sudent Center at Paris Junior College, check out the Archives exhibit by the north doors into the ballroom. Derald Bulls, our new director of institutional advancement and alumnae affairs, has given the archives 48 World War II photos, which soldiers who had rented rooms from his mother and father, Jo and Derald Bulls, left behind during the war.

Bulls told the story of the photos:

Mom and Dad moved to Paris from Commerce in 1943,” Bulls said. “Dad went to work with Ayres Department Store (north plaza), and Mom secured employment at Camp Maxey working for one of the commanding officers.

During this time, Mom befriended many a soldier and his family. I say family because many sent their rations (flour, sugar, etc.) to their soldiers stationed here. Mom and Dad’s home on North Main Street became somewhat of a weekend headquarters for many soldiers and families who came to visit them. Mom would take their rations and make pies, cakes, etc. for the young men.

As a result of these friendships, some soldiers would leave personal items at their home for safe keeping. This is how the 40-50 World War II photographs came into our possession. The photos were in the top of my dad’s closet for years and years. During my Paris High School days, I carried them to history class, but back into the closet they went when I got home, and there they stayed until we broke up housekeeping on 19th Street SE in the late 80s. Because the photos were detailed with descriptions of where they were taken, i.e. Iwo Jima, Normandy, etc., I couldn’t let them go. For the past 20-plus years I’ve kept them and shared them with my children during school times, but WWII didn’t have the same attraction to them as it did to me!

I wish I knew the names of the soldiers, sailors, marines, etc. who came through our home and left the photos, but I don’t. Maybe this feature on the archives website will create a greater interest.

To this day, even though both parents are deceased, I still maintain communications with the daughters of the late Jim Peel, who referred to my parents as Uncle Derald and Aunt Jo, and a special soldier, Pat Carbone, still trades Christmas cards with me each year. In fact, my parents so liked Pat and his late wife, Jean, that after leaving the clothing field for a few years and beginning a 13-year career in a full-service Humble Oil station, Dad sponsored Pat through the Humble Oil training program. Pat ended up with one of the top producing full-service stations in Dallas for over 40 years! Mom and Dad cared for members of the military services from the four corners of the U.S.

The photographs are very moving. Studying them quietly, I begin feeling something of the significance and impact of these action scenes and of the fates of the men who were involved in them. In the middle of the case are pictures of Derald and Jo, depicting the Home Front, which was so meaningful to the young soldiers who resided for a time in their loving home in Paris, Texas. The photographs are all being mounted for display and will be rotated periodically.

Home Front Letters: Merrybell Seeber

Posted 06.05.08 at 2:10 PM

Merrybell has taken a break from making 28 jars of corn cob jelly for church bake sales and gift baskets to write the following:

I grew up on a small farm, and our school and church was two miles from home. The church would hold box socials and bake sales; also, they were noted for their Roast Duck Suppers. This church had no indoor plumbing or water. The ladies had to carry all the water from across the road for everything; also, the people had to use the outdoor 2 holer, also across the road. When my mother passed away in November of ‘91, we had the funeral luncheon there, and there still was no indoor plumbing or water. I returned there 3 years ago for a chili supper — what surprises. They had 2 bathrooms, and the kitchen had steam tables. I was so thrilled to see my little church still going strong, where I walked to Sunday school with a penny tied in my handkerchief. Daisy, it is all precious memories.

Before the war, I can remember my grandmother would send my folks a dollar so Dad could get gas to come visit them. It was like 5 gal. for a dollar, sometimes even cheaper. During the war, the speed limit was 35 miles per hour, nothing over.

The holidays during the war — we had to have parcels in the mail by the 15th of October to be sure the boys would have them for Christmas. One year my boy friend, later my husband, received his in June. It took that long to catch up to him. He said he was in a foxhole, mud up to his knees, but the cookies were still good.

It was during the war time when the stores started putting holiday things out so very early so they could be shipped to the boys overseas. Before that, when I was younger, you didn’t see Christmas things until after Thanksgiving, about 2 weeks before Christmas.

I also recall my dad cutting the back out of a coupe to make a truck out of it because the licenses were cheaper for farm trucks than they were for cars. My brother and I would have to ride in the back end. How I hated that. My 2 younger sisters could sit up front with Mom and Dad. The licenses were like $5 each, and you never saw a woman drive a truck of any kind back then. Also, during the war years, in some places, such as hotels, women were not allowed to sit at the bar. Ladies had to sit at tables, sometimes even in another room What changes!

Have I told you about going to the dentist on January 4, 1944. I had 3 teeth filled and my teeth cleaned, and it cost me $9.00, but I had to work over 30 hours for that $9.00 and go to school.

Thanks, Merrybell, for this look back. Now gasoline is almost $4 a gallon, and we’re being told to drive slowly to conserve it. I remember the weekly pencil-written letter from my grandmother which arrived as regular as clockwork, from Gainesville to Paris. I guess they rarely talked on the phone although both ends had a phone. My mother’s parents came to Paris not infrequently to visit, and they came on the bus. She could drive, but Grandpa couldn’t. Neither one felt brave enough to get out on the highway for a 100-mile trip to Paris.

I also remember pounding a manual typewriter, a Royal, I think, but Paris High School taught me how to use both hands on the keyboard. My dad used a monstrous machine with a heavier, longer carriage, and he typed with two fingers almost as fast as his secretary typed with both hands. I remember when he put the first electric typewriter in the law office — we thought we were really on the cutting edge of technology. I guess this makes me almost an antique, myself, and yes, Merrybell, these are “precious memories.” Keep them coming.

Home Front Letters: Merrybell Seeber

Posted 06.02.08 at 11:36 AM

Thanks to Merrybell Seeber, from Delavan Wis., for this little solution to the high-priced ingredients of desserts today.

War-Time Cake (Eggless, Milkless, Butterless)

Mix in a saucepan:

1 cup of brown sugar
1 3/4 cups of water
1/3 cup of lard or other shortening
2 cups of seeded raisins
1/2 teaspoon of nutmeg
2 teaspoons of cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon of cloves

Boil for 8 minutes and cool. Add 1 teaspoon of salt and 1 teaspoon of soda, dissolved in 2 teaspoons of water. Blend in 2 cups of sifted flour, mixed with 1 teaspoon of baking powder. Pour into a greased and floured 8-inch square pan. Bake about 50 minutes in a slow oven (325 deg.) Delicious served plain.

Thanks to Mrs. Ethel Yant of Delavan for this recipe from the Delavan Community Cookbook.

We may have to revise similar recipes to eat well in this era of high-priced gasoline and groceries. Instead of ration coupons, which had to last a full month, we’ll have a grocery “budget” that will have to last a full month.

If you remember any “war-time recipes,” let us know.

Home Front Letters: Shirley La Rosa

Posted 05.30.08 at 8:25 AM

Mrs. Shirley La Rosa, of Pahrump, Nev., writes of church life on the home front during World War II. She says the first thing that came to mind about church activities was bingo.

“They had picnic tables set up outside on warm summer nights for the adults to sit around and play. We used to say bingo, the old corn game, because unlike today, where ink daubers are used to cover your numbers when called, in those days they used hard kernels of corn.”

(I’ve played bingo with kernels of corn before. I guess bingo popularity never fails. Fans play multiple games with computers nowadays, while poor folks like me — who never win — still play one set of cards on the rare occasion when I go with my brother and his wife, visiting from out-of-town.)

Shirley continues: “The biggest excitement a kid could have was going to the grocery store, putting a penny in the gumball machine and being the lucky winner of a striped gumball. That meant you won a free candy bar. Another freebie was if your five cent ice cream cone had a piece of paper in it that said ‘free’: then, next time, you got a free cone on the house.”

Thanks to Shirley for these glimpses of a simpler day and, also, for two post cards concerning Pearl Harbor.

Song Lyrics and Life

Posted 05.06.08 at 8:15 AM

Not being a very musical person, I have always been intrigued by lyrics, the “words,” which makeup what I might refer to as the narrative nature of songs, rather than the rhythms.  Zelda Fitzgerald contended, as gleaned from reading a major biography of her, that she “wanted to live her life based on the lyrics of popular songs.” How intriguing to contemplate what might be considered a rather modern perspective, so typically associated with youth. Of course, to an old foggy like me, maybe I am wrong to assume that young people even listen to the lyrics today, and only wish to “vibrate” to the sounds themselves.  Words have always been so vital to me that I just assume there would be relevance for everyone to associate with lyrics in such a way.  Even what Zelda professed was not such bad logic.

Anyway, for those of us who have lived the era of Bob Dylan and Don McClean, maybe I should not be surprised with the likes of “Five for Fighting,” a pop/rock group of the contemporary music scene (the lead singer’s interest in the sport of hockey and the penalty term happens to be the basis for the name of the group).  Their stylized, improvised use of falsetto delivery catches the attention of the listener, and the lyrical sentiments are implanted in our memory cells so that we are plagued by the reverberations caught in the mind.  I know some young people are listening to this group and have attempted to have discussions with them about the lyrics.  Some blank stares more often than not seem to be the primary response.

Nothing new in the proverbial “Dance to the music of time,” as exemplified and rendered voluminously (12 novels) by the English writer Anthony Powell who portrayed such harmonies and dissonance over the decades from WWI through the 1960s through his literary offerings.  When words and music are combined we have a feast of experience to be savored through multiple dimensions.  Powell made a monumental effort through words to record the rhythms we live with.

Contrastingly, on one particular journey Dr. William A. Owens got me involved with a “Sacred Harp Convention” where only the singing voice (I suppose the ‘sacred harp’), in counter-point with other voices, happens to be the mainstay of expression.  Dr. Owens was an avid collector of folk songs and hymns, and was considered something of an expert in this field, especially where our region is concerned. 

As is the case with most such experiences, the ear and the mind have to be trained to appreciate the delivery.  Our days are filled with such voluble experiences, whether they have telling impact at the time or not.  In whatever context, including all those mentioned, it takes a little effort to have a comfortable relationship with our “muse.”

Preservation

Posted 05.01.08 at 2:06 PM

I found an interesting chart in the June 2008 issue of Family Chronicle about the life expectancies of paper, which is a question I’m often asked by people interested in preservation. According to the author, Gregory Peduto, newsprint/ground wood will last 20-30 years, but has a potential of lasting 50-100 years with proper care.

In contrast, rag paper can last 500 years with a potential of lasting over 1,000 years Archival paper (ISO 11108) will last 100 years with a potential of 500 to over 1,000 years, which is awesome, isn’t it?

Interested in collecting photographs? Color prints will last 5-30 years with a potential of 60-80 years. Black-and-white prints, he says, are paper dependent. Color negatives: 20 years with a potential to last 100 years, and black-and-white negatives, 100 years, with a potential of 500 to 1,000 years.

Photographs are more delicate than papers because of their chemical composition. Like papers, prints need to be stored in mild temperatures and humidity which remains constant. Most of us like to display our pictures in albums, which often causes serious problems for prints. The common album with PVC plastic-covered pages can, he says, strip the emulsion right off the prints, and I imagine a lot of us have had that experience.

Use photo sleeves of PAT (Photographic Activity Tested) plastics, such as Mylar. Protect your negatives, also, with PAT Mylar covers, and they will last hundreds of years.

PJC Hispanic Club

Posted 04.21.08 at 12:18 PM

The newly created, or resurrected, Hispanic Club at PJC has been a focus of lively interest and activity this college year.  Susan Sanchez and Daisy Harvill have been joined by other advisers, particularly including Kelli Ebel, newly hired Spanish language instructor.  I have made an effort to attend as many regular meetings as feasible and found a wide variety of program topics.  I am sure Mrs. Helen Williams would laud all that has gone on to promote awareness and understanding of other cultures.  Mrs. Williams happens to be in my thoughts since she carried the torch for languages back when I first came to PJC.  What a unique character; and things haven’t changed much since so many of our current advisers carry on that tradition today.  You have to have a broad perspective to take on the challenge of working with students who generally have other things on their minds.  We have all learned a lot!  From the “overview of dance influence” to “the travel slides” narrated by a number of presenters, with Bill Neely’s perceptive “emphasis on reading and writers,” as well as Cathie Tyler’s “art retrospective,” we have all experienced a wide range of informative programs.  Not to leave out the program cancellation, which prompted Susan Sanchez to divvy up questions to be answered by each of us regarding various topics.  Who would have thought this would be one of the more memorable and insightful programs in that sharing experience? 

The First Annual International Film Festival may have had a shaky start, but was one of the more intense and talked about sponsored activities of the club.  We look forward to such new perspectives.  Even experienced eyes can benefit from subtitles, and Daisy Harvill will be able to use her “bell” for future reference.

College clubs and organizations are primarily for students, and faculty and staff continue to help make available the venue for such rewarding experiences.  With so many other activities available to students, we know it is a challenge to entice students into such a structured setting, but the will seems to still be inherent to make the effort for students to share in such relationships.  A special commendation should go to all faculty and staff who give of their time and experience in such endeavors.  A well deserved “Thank you,” to all of you, who have been a part of these efforts!

Armistice

Posted 04.21.08 at 1:10 PM

I read an interesting article by Maude Neville — daughter of A.W. Neville, Lamar County’s late distinguished historian, both of whom worked for The Paris News — dated Jan. 28, 1973. The series of articles by various journalists recounted the end of wars which they recalled, and Maude wrote about what happened in Paris, Texas, when World War I finally ended. I was struck by the finality of it. Will we live to see the “end” of any other war in our lifetime? Sometimes, I wonder.

She said the telephone call came at 1 o’clock on Monday morning, Nov. 11, 1918, and it was not unexpected. There had been a previous report that was in error when firing had ceased to allow negotiators to pass through battle lines, and it had set off a wave of celebrations across the U.S. However, this time, it was the real thing, and A.W. dressed and set off for the newspaper office, then on North Main Street. He was sitting by his typewriter, ready to go, when the AP message from Dallas came through, and carriers were waiting to rush out with the free “extra.”

Maude and her sisters had rushed downtown, also, with coffee and sandwiches, in case the news staff hadn’t had time to go to their favorite all-night café. She said the plate glass windows of the News were filled with these extras for people to read.

Downtown, there was pandemonium. Imagine it today. There were cars, trucks, bikes, horseback riders and hundreds just on foot screaming, cheering, waving. Factory whistles, bells, auto horns, guns, firecrackers. Finally, the police had to relieve some folks of their guns.

Hogue Manufacturing Co. provided a coffin with a wooden image of the Kaiser inside, and people could drive a nail in the coffin for a dollar (for war relief benefits).

Imagine the great luck of two squads of men who had already boarded trains at the railroad stations, along with 65 from Red River County, when the war ended. Maude said emotions were mixed; some rejoiced, and others cursed their luck that “it was all over” before they got to fire a shot “over there.”
Foolish men. Read about the slaughter and the casualties in World War I.

Maude described herself as a budding young reporter in those days, assigned to fill a weekly column on social events, and she said it was tough sledding, as people either weren’t giving parties or didn’t want them reported, lest they be considered unpatriotic.

It was a different world.

1946 Memories

Posted 04.10.08 at 3:55 PM

Going through a collection recently, I came across an interesting pamphlet entitled “Remember When: 1946 Memories.” Of course, I stopped working and started reading. Well, here are some facts that I certainly didn’t know:

Our life expectancy was only 62.9 years. The President of the United States was Harry Truman, and there was no vice president of the United States. There was no Pulitzer Prize winner that year.

A new house could be purchased for only $5,600, and the average annual income was $2,500. A new car cost $1,125, and if you bought a car and then couldn’t afford a house, you could rent one for $65 a month. You could tool around a lot in your new car since gasoline only cost 15 cents a gallon. If you picked Harvard University for your education, tuition was a hefty $420 per year. If you weren’t serious about studying, you could go to a movie for 55 cents and send a letter to your sweethear for only 3 cents.

Some 1946 babies were Diane Keaton (Jan. 5), Dolly Parton (Jan. 19), Liza Minnelli (March 12), Cher (Cherilyn LaPiere Sarkisian, May 10), and Sylvester Stallone (July 6) to name a few. Yes, it was a good year.

The Academy Award Winner in 1946 was “The Best Years of Our Lives” (still one of my favorites). This momentous year produced “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

Goodyear put out an ad that was a pleasing change of pace. It pictured a WOMAN holding a rivet gun. “Here’s a gun that shoots planes —t ogether!” it said.
No, America was never the same, as women had a taste for earning their own money, by then.

Was it a good year? You be the judge. The CIA (Central Intelligence Agency) was formed, AT&T announced the first car phones, the birthrate jumped to over 1.4 million in one year with the return of surviving WWII service men and women (BOOM!) and — best of all — World War II veterans, making use of the provisions of the GI Bill of Rights, headed off to college in record numbers, many of whom could never have afforded to go otherwise. And Tom Brokaw has said that many who received their education because of the war went on to make fortunes and become the backbone of U.S. business and industry.

Home Front Letters: John W. Kautz

Posted 04.09.08 at 2:13 PM

From John W. Kautz of Blue Grass, Iowa, we learn the following:

My father made two statements that I remember to this day. (1) when my two older sisters began dating, he would remind them as they departed on a Saturday evening, “If you can force yourself to stay out past midnight, then you can force yourself to get up for church in the morning,” and (2) when I entered school, he said, “Remember that the teacher takes my place.” Mom’s favorite was, “In budgeting your father’s paycheck, I never take from one envelope to balance out another at the end of the month.” I recall sitting alongside her as she divided the dollar bills among the various designated envelopes.

Money had always been an obstacle in my early life, as my parents were 8th grade graduates, and left my educational choice up to me. I paid my own 1942 entry at Michigan (tuition was $75 for the semester with in-state only $50.) My dollars came from summer employment although they did give me $100 before my senior year commenced.

Late 1942 through 1945 found me in military service and WWII as a Navy officer. In this status I eventually was earning $5,000 annually, which was great as I had a wife and son come onto the scene. In January 1946 I was ready for discharge and began my 31 years in the educational field. Back at my parents’ home in Chicago, I applied for employment at the Board of Education and was told I’d have to wait until an exam was given as I wasn’t a grad from Chicago Teachers College. Yes, I could be a substitute teacher at $5 a day!

This I did for a couple of years, eventually taking the exam. This qualified me for elementary school only, and my assignment eventually climbed to $3,000 per school year! By now, I was a daddy for the second time and needed extra outside jobs. Need I say that when an opportunity came for me to go to Europe as an Army Education Advisor, at a whopping $5,000, I took off! This situation prevailed until 1951.

Of Yvette Myles, the PJC history student assisting with these letters, he says, “I can’t help but place you and my oldest great-granddaughter in the same category. Amber, who lives here with Kathy and I, is a college-bound student with an interest in graphic design (whatever that is). She is currently enrolled in a community college earning prerequisites for a September enrollment at the University of Iowa. She will be 21 in April and a pretty sharp gal along with Yvette in Texas!”

Best wishes to John, Kathy, Amber, and our own Yvette, and thanks to John for sharing these interesting memories.

Creative Awards at PJC

Posted 04.08.08 at 7:32 AM

The 32nd annual Creative Awards will be held in the J. R. McLemore Student Center Ballroom, 9 April 2008, at 2:30pm.  Something to be proud of in an era when reading and writing, and being creative in the ARTS, tend to be a lesser priority for most people.  This project was the inception of Dr. Tony Clark when he was at PJC back in the 70s.  We are truly indebted to the likes of Dr. Clark for his own creativity, having been a published poet--one particular volume entitled “Fate - One Mile.” A literary club of sorts, of which Dr. Clark was a member/participant, would perform in various venues, PJC being one of them.  We were always entertained by the insightful whimsy employed in many of Dr. Clark’s offerings.  These were not stodgy, weighty evenings; these were moments of fun to be savored through the years with the memories of such occasions.  One of Dr. Clark’s very special poems was based on his emotional youthful dilemma when choosing which movie double-feature to attend, “When Bambi came up against Gene Autry.” For many it was somewhat surprising that such a subject could be the basis of a fairly serious poem. 

There have been numerous speakers at the Creative Awards over the years and many winners who have gone on to what might be considered bigger and better things, but the moment is at hand and I felt a reminder was appropriate that such an occasion has survived and prospered with the passing of time.  One noteworthy relatively new group of participants would be our Dual Credit students from our service area ISDs.  Their instructors encourage these students to be creative to the extent that they are worthy participants in the contest categories, and many of them turn out to be winners.  Congratulations to us all!

Roy Bedichek and the University Interscholastic League

Posted 04.02.08 at 9:19 AM

With the recent UIL events being held here on the Paris Junior College campus, it brought to mind comments made by William A. Owens regarding his good friend Roy Bedichek. In the annals of Texas lore, Roy Bedichek is known as a philosophical figure. My exposure to Bedichek came primarily from what Dr. Owens related to me, and the rather interesting circumstance of my being acquainted with Bedichek’s’s daughter, Mary Carroll, who lived here in Paris for a short while. His is a name lost to most if not for such informative relationships. In my mind I will always link Bedichek with the University Interscholastic League by which he was employed beginning back in 1917. At that time the UIL was a part of The University of Texas Extension Bureau. Bedichek became the second director of the league in 1922, and he eventually retired from this position in 1948. Our local UIL events having triggered such memories, I think it noteworthy to recall that Roy Bedichek was one of the three significant figures making up the legendary triumvirate of J. Frank Dobie, Walter Prescott Webb, and, as mentioned, Roy Bedichek himself. I don’t know whether this is even mentioned in any of the explanatory material associated with current UIL activities, but it doesn’t hurt to be reminded of such a noteworthy career. It is told that at the urging of Webb and Dobie, Bedichek took a leave of absence in February of 1946 to write his first book, “Adventures with a Texas Naturalist” (1947). His second book, “Karankaway Country” (1950), and his third book were awarded the best Texas book of the year by the Texas Institute of Letters.

For those interested in more detailed information they might look to William A. Owens, “Three Friends: Roy Bedichek, J. Frank Dobie, Walter Prescott Webb” (1969), as well as W. A. Owens and Lyman Grant, “Letters of Roy Bedichek” (1985).

Home Front Letters: R. L. Simons

Posted 03.24.08 at 4:02 PM

With the writers’ written permission, I will be sharing some of their vivid memories of the past, especially of the 1940s. I have begun a collection in Aikin Regional Archives of the written memories of people who lived through the turbulent years of World War II, including memories of America’s Home Front, and many of them have given me permission to excerpt their wonderful letters for the readers of this Web site.

The letters, pictures, and other papers which they have sent me become a permanent part of this collection in Aikin Regional Archives. Since I cannot possibly answer and continue a correspondence with each writer, a very talented history student, Mrs. Yvette Myles, is helping me with the letters this semester. Many thanks to Yvette and to her PJC history instructor, Alan Williams, for this assistance.

Think of the great learning experience it’s been for Yvette, who reads and answers each letter.

From Kansas City, Kan., R.L. Simons (Simmons) says:

“I think of WWII every day. I was about 10-14 during that time. I didn’t understand how serious it was, but I knew it was a pain. I tell people I couldn’t have made it if it wasn’t for my ‘girlfriend.’ Our corner store was a few doors from us. If they got in any candy or bacon, she would run down and tell me that she laid back some bacon or candy bars. I think I was addicted to Snickers candy bars.

We were in love for about 5 years and then went our ways, but I never forgot her. I’m still eating Snickers and think about the old days whenever I see one. I laugh about the price of them, also.

Meat was so hard to get that I would pay a nickel to ride the bus to the ice plant where my big brother worked. They used Italian prisoners of war to load the box cars with blocks of ice. They had a small camp at the G.M. plant where they lived. The army cooks would bring their lunch in big insulated cans, and they ate the same food as the G.I.s.

I’d go to school and brag about the big steaks or meat loaf dinners I had. Those prisoners were just young guys not much older than me. But, of course, some of the kids said I was friends with the enemy and they might kidnap me. I think they were jealous. Those army cooks would pile my tray up with more than I could eat ... I often wonder what happened to those Italians. Oh well! That’s ancient history.”

As you can see, many of my correspondents were just children or young adults during those days, too young to fight, but not too young to remember how it was.

Pete Humphries

Posted 03.13.08 at 10:42 AM

On November 12, 1942, according to the Pete Humphries Co. ad (“The People’s Friend: Not Too Big for Little Business, Not Too Little for Big Business”) in The Paris News, Gold Medal flour went for 6 pounds for 35 cents, or 12 pounds for 65 cents. Sugar came in cloth bags at 5 pounds for 35 cents, or 10 pounds for 65 cents. Spuds, on the other hand (Idaho Russets) were 10 pounds for 47 cents. Read it and weep. Fresh, “krisp” Post Toasties were two 14-ounce boxes for 19 cents. (How much is cereal today?)

Let’s proceed to fresh fruits and vegetables. Grapefruit, three for 10 cents; a dozen Texas seedless oranges for 30 cents; red delicious apples, same price; cabbage 4 cents a pound; and bananas, a poujnd for 10 cents. Steak was 29 cents a pound. My personal favorite, bakery specials: “fruit ring, carmel nut layer, or pecan layer cake, ea. 22 cents.” And Downyflake Donuts of all kinds and flavors, 13 to 18 cents apiece? No, 13 to 18 cents a dozen.

The old Pete Humphries ad brings back memories. I grew up on Graham Street, a few blocks from downtown, and I dimly remember shopping at Pete Humphries, which was on Bonham Street. The A & P down on the Market Square is more memorable; I guess I was a few years older and remember it more clearly.

It’s funny the scenes that stick out in my memory. I remember being whisked off to Pete Humphries by my dad on one Christmas Eve night “to pick up a few things,” while my mother and my big brother feverishly finished up the Christmas tree, because we always had “our tree” on Christmas Eve and went to Gainesville to my mother’s parents for Christmas Day. I somehow knew that Santa was coming while we at Pete Humphries (pronounced by natives as “Peedumphries,” for some reason), and it was a magical night.

My abiding memory of the old A&P is seeing Lyndon B. Johnson descend in a helicopter on the Market Square while we were there to shop. I guess it was the first helicopter I’d ever seen. He was campaigning, of course.

The dollar sure went further in the good old days, didn’t it? My freshman English students have been writing about “Why Be Green?” and a few have settled on a very real variation of this topic: “Can We Afford to Be Green?” Hmmmmm.

Altogether, it’s been an interesting project in which most have become involved. Next fall, I’ve decided to concentrate on the economy, and how to save money, as my semester project (we analyze by cause and effect, argue debatable topics, compare and contrast, etc.) Young people need to learn that, yes, by golly, they CAN survive and they can do something about high prices. Gasoline too high? Don’t buy a drop more than you absolutely need to keep life and limb together. Groceries, shop off the bottom shelf (lower prices). There “was” a better time. I think I’ll take the old “Peedumphrie” ad to class next week.

359th Infantry Texas Brigade 1918

Posted 03.12.08 at 5:04 PM

A unique item being catalogued for Aikin Regional Archives is “A Short History and Photographic Record of the 359th Infantry Texas Brigade, Lt. Col. W.A. Cavenaugh commanding, 1918.” It is illustrated with pictures of the members of the 359th. I’ve included a list of the counties making up the various companies whose members are pictured:

Co. A: Collins and Grayson
Co. B: Cooke, Denton, Parker, and Wise
Co. C: Johnson and Tarrant
Co. D: Ellis, Navarro, and Hill
Co. E: Delta, Fannin, and Lamar
Co. F: Dallas
Co. G: Anderson, Henderson, and Kaufman
Co. H: Hopkins, Hunt, Rockwall, and Van Zandt
Co. I: Franklin, Rains, Red River, Titus, and Wood
Co. K: Bowie, Cass, Camp, Marion, and Morris
Co. L: Cherokee, Rusk, and Smith
Co. M: Gregg, Harrison, Panola, and Upshire

Note: for some reason, there is no “Co. J” listed.

Officers from “E” Company were 1st Lts. W. B. Martin, A.S. Weaver, and John P.
Hopkins. 2nd Lts. were J.R. Cunningham, V.L. David, and Dean S. Barnard. Commanding was Capt. Fred N. Oliver.

Quilts and “Los Cuatro Gatos”

Posted 02.29.08 at 12:08 PM

Aikin Archives is interested in collecting traditional handmade quilts and quilt tops, especially with a local or regional connection, for preservation as well as display purposes on the PJC campuses. These historic handmade items are original folk art, and we want to preserve them for posterity.

If you would like to donate quilts or quilt tops to Aikin Archives, contact Daisy Harvill, Archivist, at either 903-782-0411 or . You may also contact the following interested parties at PJC: Dwight Chaney, Diann Mason, or Rita Tapp.

Diann and Rita have recently completed a colorful quilted wall hanging, “Los Cuatro Gatos” ("The Four Cats") which will be offered to the public in the spring. The hanging will be on display in the Administration Building of the Main Campus, and interested quilters, or folks who just love quilts, can acquire tickets for the drawing by making donations to the PJC Hispanic Club. See Daisy, Diann, Rita, Susan Sanchez, Kelli Ebel, or Trent Price, Hispanic Club advisors and supporters, to get your tickets.

World War Two Project

Posted 02.28.08 at 4:54 PM

Aikin Regional Archives invites letters or e-mails with first-hand accounts of life in Paris, Lamar County or this region of Texas in the earlier years of our century, especially the 1940s.

Who remembers the home-front in your hometown and the joys and sorrows, the challenges and the hidden rewards of those days? Share them with our readers. Your letters and e-mails will become a permanent part of a special Aikin Archives Collection dedicated to preserving those fast-disappearing memories.

We cannot collect too many of them, as “the greatest generation” is rapidly leaving us. What is a better project in which everyone can engage by either setting down memories in some type of format or by actively collecting them? Save them for the young ones coming behind us so that they will not forget the sacrifices made for our freedom and the sense of community that people experienced in those trying days.

Submitting your letters by mail or by e-mail constitutes permission to publish excerpts from them. All documents become a part of the permanent collection of World War II papers in the Archives at Paris Junior College. You may also enclose photos, which can be scanned and returned to you if you request their return.

Photos of Paris and other towns in the area during the ‘40s are especially desirable for this collection. Think in terms of streets, businesses, churches, recreational sites, Camp Maxey, modes of transportation, even men’s and women’s fashions of the time, and their uniforms. All submissions will be acknowledged, and multiple submissions are welcome.

William Humphrey Selected Letters Published

Posted 01.17.08 at 4:53 PM

“Far from Home” Selected Letters of William Humphrey, edited by Ashy Bland Crowder and published by Louisiana State University Press, Baton Rogue, La. 70808 (ISBN 978-0-8071-3272-2) has just been made available for many of us particularly interested in this writer.

The book flyleaf conveys, “Often compared to William Faulkner, renowned American writer William Humphrey (1924-1997) sought to shatter myths about the South in such acclaimed novels as Home from the Hill, The Ordways, and Proud Flesh, and in his voluminous short stories, critical essays, and memoirs.  This collection of Humphrey’s best letters deserves space on the bookshelf alongside these earlier works.  Beginning in the 1940s when, as a true starving artist, he wore borrowed clothes and could afford only one meal a day, the letters move to his time as a goatherd, his stint as a teacher at Bard College, his middle years in Europe, and the letters decrease in number as he returns to America with his health declining in the late 1980s and early 1990s.

Humphrey corresponded with some of the central figures in the literary and intellectual life of the twentieth century, including writers such as Katherine Anne Porter and Leonard Woolf, and the publisher Alfred Knopf.  These letters present a vivid picture of Humphrey as he provides commentary on his contemporaries through personal observations combined with sharp critical judgments.

The letters also provide remarkable insights into Humphrey’s own works, showing him to be a man happiest when he forgot about himself also prone to plunging into despondency.  The correspondence unforgettably reveals his troubled soul and his life as a quintessential artist; a man with the unswerving drive to make a lasting contribution to American literature.”

Old Photographs

Posted 11.30.07 at 5:23 PM

Dating Old Photographs 1840-1929 is a set of books in the archives published by “A Family Chronicle” that I find very useful. Halvor Moorshead is the publisher and editor of these books.

An article by Andrew J. Morris tells me that the initial clue in dating a photograph is the process used in creating it. The earliest photographic images available were the Daguerreotype and the Talbotype. Daguerre’s invention was unveiled first, in France, in 1839. Talbot introduced his own process shortly afterward, but the two differed in several ways. Later called Calotypes, Talbot’s images were patented, but Daguerreotypes were produced “in the millions.”

Photographic paper was very thin in the 1800s, so prints were glued to cardboard mounts. The size of the mount more easily distinguishes the date than the various processes. The carte-de-visite and cabinet cards were popular at that time.

Ambrotypes were glass negatives with a black background, making the image appear positive, and were cased photos. They appeared in 1854, but lost popularity in the early 1860s when tintypes and card mounted prints replaced them.

The tintype came along in 1856 and was popular until about 1900. The image was produced on a thin metal plate. There was no need for a negative, so tintypes are unique. During the 1860s and ‘70s, tintypes were often placed in CDV (carte-de-visite) mounts.

These books also contain many pages of historical photographs. Dating photographs from clothing styles is another interesting facet of these books.

Death Record

Posted 11.27.07 at 2:11 PM

Back again. It’s been hectic at Paris Junior College as we approach the end of the fall 2007 semester and the Christmas holiday break.

An interesting article in the October 2007 issue of Family Chronicle by Patrick Wohler on deaths and the records which can be useful in tracing family history.

Of course, the first one that comes to mind is the death certificate issued by the attending physician with the time, date, and cause of death. Many agencies require a death certificate, such as insurance companies and probate courts, and copies may be in the files of these agencies, in the hospital that issued it, or in the family papers, as it is a document that we tend to preserve.

Look in newspaper archives for an article, if the death was by unnatural cause, and of course there are obituaries, funeral home records, cemetery records of burials, church archives, and the family Bible, to name but a few.

Don’t forget coffin plates, which were once popular. Funeral homes often removed them prior to burial, and they may now reside in museums or even among the family keepsakes. He also mentions that such records as censuses, poll books, assessment books, and voters lists tried to keep track of people and might list deaths.

It took me about two years to find an old friend with whom I’d long ago lost contact, and I determined to do it with only free Web sites. But discovered that her family name is very common in the Northeast.

I’d give up hope, but decided to try again in a few months. I have to admit that I finally resorted to prayer, since I wasn’t getting anywhere, but I’d more or less traced her deceased parents as far as I could go, which wasn’t very far.

Since she was an only child, I had a strong feeling that (1) she’d never married and was still using her family name, (2) that she was still in New York, which she loved as a child, and (3) that she was still living in the family home on Long Island.

Finally, I found a woman with her middle name and surname working for a church near Lincoln Square in New York, and I just picked up the phone and called her. It was Ann.

It was like 30 years disappeared instantly, and we were “girls” again. So you can find your lost friends. It just takes perseverance, and sometimes a lot of luck.

Two out of three isn’t bad. Come to find out, she no longer lives in the family home, her parents having left to travel upon retirement. My friend now lives in New York City in the heart of all things cultural on West 66th Street.

Homecoming 2007

Posted 10.19.07 at 11:18 AM

It’s homecoming 2007 time at Paris Junior College, Nov. 9-10, which is always a busy time on campus. Carroll Dawson, former PJC student and athlete and All-American basketball player, will be the honored Distinguished Alumnus this year. Dawson retired recently as the general manager of the Houston Rockets in the National Basketball League and will be our keynote speaker at the awards banquet on Nov. 10.

A parade featuring cars and floats will kick off the homecoming on Thursday, Nov. 8 , at 4 p.m. On Friday, Nov. 9, the President’s Reception will be in the McLemore Student Center at 6 p.m. At 7:30 p.m. Angels Fall will be presented by the PJC Drama Department in the theater located in the administration building.

On Saturday, The Class of 1957 will meet from 10 a.m. to 11 a.m. in room 205 of the McLemore Student Center; the awards luncheon will be held in the ballroom at 11:30 a.m.; “Angels Fall” will be performed again at 2:30 p.m.; at 5:30 p.m. the Lady Dragons will play Mountain View Community College in the Hunt Center; and at 7:30 p.m. the Dragons will play Redlands Community College. At halftime the 2007 Homecoming Queen and King will be crowned.

A full weekend for alumni and friends of Paris Junior College. Come out and enjoy the fun.

The Subject of Forgiveness

Posted 10.11.07 at 2:43 PM

Thanks to Deborah K. Archer, the daughter of Melba K. Bunch, for bringing Melba’s collection of school yearsbooks to the archives at Paris Junior College. They include The Texan (Travis Middle School) from 1969-1980. We have a fine collection of Paris High School Owls and Paris Junior College Galleons, but very few yearbooks from the other Paris schools. Donations are appreciated and used by researchers.

Thanks, also, to Jimmye Hancock, who donated a photograph of the old Palace Drug Store, dated 1923. It brings back memories, not that I date back that far myself, but I instantly remembered the old checkered tile floor and the soda fountain. In the foreground are generous displays of cigars, fountain pens and eyeglasses.

Finally, for this day’s offerings, I want to post a student response to an Aug. 29, 2007, Dallas Morning News article by James Ragland, “Game of Forgiveness Gets Harder,” which poses the question of whether or not Michael Vick should be forgiven and allowed to resume his NFL career and whether or not a certain high school football player should be forgiven his legal problems and allowed to play.

The student writer is Jennifer Adams, a PJC freshman from Paris enrolled in my first-semester freshman English class; Jennifer is taking academic classes and preparing to enter the vocational nursing program. Here is her response:

If your child was convicted of a crime, wouldn’t you still want him to finish school? My answer would be yes . In reference to [...], I think he should also be allowed to finish his high school education.

I believe that when a child is “thrown to the dogs” after committing a crime, he suffers more than if we had tried to rehabilitate him. By locking such children away, we trample any hope they might have had for a bright future. Sure, they should be held accountable for their crimes, as everyone else is, but the way we treat our children is the way our future will be. I think that jail cells are made for adults.

Now that I’ve said it, you’re probably thinking I’m crazy. I’m not. Parents should know where their children are, who they’re with, and what they are doing at all times.

A well written response, Jennifer, and it’s nice to know that this PJC student has a merciful nature, especially in view of the career that she is considering.

Local Authors, Part Two

Posted 09.20.07 at 10:49 AM

Among the historians in the past, we have to honor Ed H. McCuistion, whose Loose Leaves of Lamar County History was published in The Paris News. His scrapbook of articles is a valuable source of local history.

A.W. Neville, a former editor of The Paris News, wrote The History of Lamar County, also printed first in serial and later in book form. J.J. Cunningham authored a history of the Paris Masonic Lodge. As for ministers, Rev. John H. McLean’s Reminiscences is a valuable resource, along with B.F. Fuller’s History of Texas Baptists. Finally, Mrs. S.J. Wright is the author of San Antonio de Bexar and other volumes about the Alamo and the Spanish governor’s palace.

Editors of verse anthologies include Eleanor Stell Easley, daughter of Dr. W.W. Stell, Love - From Shakespeare; Nina Isabel Jennings of Denison, Latch Strings to Happiness; and Mrs. J.W. Wood, Friendship Greetings.

Our poets include Marie Barton, author of South Wind Calling; Mary F. Canfield, Mosaics; Daisy V. Johnson, Poems; P.E. Witherspoon, Sparks; E. Louise Mally of New York (niece of Mrs. Henry P. Mayer), Dedications.

Others are Charlotte Henrichson, PJC instructor; Hope Ridings Miller, society editor of The Wasington Post, also a former PJC instructor; Grace Hackel Baker, a children’s writer; Mrs. Fred Manton; Mrs. Elinta T. Kirkpatrick; Louise Seckel and several others who were members of “The Rhymesters.”

Other poets are Virginia Paty, Helen Clark and C.O. Gill, who was an advertising salesman for The Paris News and later founded and edited The Bard, Texas’ first poetry journal. Mrs. Fred Grusendorf received Honorable Mention in a national contest, and Dr. F.L. Wear, president of Trinity University and former pastor of Central Presbyterian Church in Paris, was known as a writer of verse.

Musical compositions are yet another form of written achievement, the Dean among our composers being, of course, J. Emory Shaw. Others were Arthur Layton of Tyler, a former director of the Paris Municipal Band; Madge Van Dyke (Mrs. Rufus Edwards); Charles Smiley; Mrs. O.B. Fisher, a violinist who composed This Night Is Mine; Mary Pierce Allen; Shelby Collier; Charlsie Fleming; Mrs. Charles Ragland; Virginia Halle and Dr. Reinhardt W. Gerbardt. Gospel writers are Roy J. Weaver, former Lamar County Clerk, and brothers Henry and George Bobo.

This is an impressive list, is it not? As always, Aikin Regional Archives is seeking the photographs and writings of these talented artists.

Grandparents

Posted 09.20.07 at 9:47 AM

One of the gifts of the season (for me) has been the winning of awards and prizes by seven of my freshman English students at Paris Junior College. The two classes which I teach entered their essays, written on their second class day and without any instruction or effort on my part except a “pep talk,” in the Grandparents Day Essay Contest sponsored by Sterling House of Paris.

Winning in the category for ages 19+ were Cattlin Day, 1st; Jennifer Adams, 2nd; Ryan McClendon, 3rd; and Rory Butkovich, 3rd. Winning in the category for ages 14-18 were Matthew Hanley, 1st; Lance Morehouse, 2nd; and Kristyn Phillips, 3rd.

First place winners were given a Newsom photography package. Other prizes consisted of lunches for two in a nice restaurant and bouquets of “forget-me-nots.” Dwight Chaney, Dean of Academic Studies, said that he was pleased to learn that students, in this day of broken and extended families, still have great respect for their grandparents and their family heritage. It’s nice to know, isn’t it?

Letters From Paris 9-7-41

Posted 09.07.07 at 12:58 PM

Today is Friday, Sept. 7, 2007, and in 1941, Sept. 7 was on a Sunday. I was thinking about my big brother, J.B., who was born on Sept. 6 (but not in 1941; he was 76 years old yesterday), but for some reason, I often seem stuck in time back in the year 1941, which was the countdown to Pearl Harbor.

I like to think what it would have been like to have been here in Paris in 1941, and been old enough to know anything, and what Paris was like then. I looked back on our Paris News microfilm and couldn’t find an edition for Sept. 6, but it would have been a Saturday, and then, as now, we didn’t have a Saturday edition, so the 7th was as close as I could come to it.

The raging headline of the day featured a picture of the destroyer USS Greer, which had been attacked by a submarine and had “answered” with depth bombs. According to the major headline, “German-American Relations Critical as Navy Refutes Nazi Claim Greer Was Aggressor.”

Life in Paris continued, though, as right under the word “Refutes,” it was reported that an “Estimated 30,000 Persons Attended Fair This Year.” The 31st fair had closed on Saturday, my brother’s birthday. I wonder if our parents had taken him to the fair to celebrate. “According to Harry Baker, Fair Association secretary, “There is a strong possibility that the dairy and hog show will be the highlight of the Fair next year.”

Back to the Greer incident, the U.S. “Bluntly Refused to accept Nazi Version,” as Nazis claimed their sub was attacked by the Greer instead, but “FDR to Deliver Speech of Major Importance.” At that point, the microfilmed print faded out, and I couldn’t read any more of the story.

In other Paris News of the day, the Council favored the establishment of a health unit in Paris and was awaiting a report from the medical society, and students were off to school again. Skirts and sweaters were fashionable, and coeds leaving town included Miss Jane Trulock (North Texas State Teachers College), Miss Mary Bell (Sam Houston State Teachers College), Miss Mysie Lee McLemore (University of Texas), and Miss Mary Alice Thebo and Miss Charlsie Fleming (Southern Methodist University).

The U.S. Marine Corps had reduced qualifications. Applicants could be as small as 5 feet, 4 inches and still pass the entrance test, and a high school education was no longer a requirement. Were we getting ready for war or what?

The high school football season was cranking up. Season tickets were only $2.50. Travis & Aikin were selling new fall men’s suits for $18.50 - $22.50, Manhattan shirts for $2 apiece, and “fingertips” for fall for $4.95 - $12.50. Around the Plaza, Perkins Brothers Company was selling fur coats on the four-month credit plan. A full length sable blend marmink swagger coat was only $219.75. Read it and weep. (I always wanted a mink coat, even a used mink coat.)

In the personals, Mrs. Gene Belew, 190 Pine Bluff, had returned from a two-weeks visit with her mother, Mrs. H.S. Bolin, in Plainview, and Miss Dorothy Humphrey had returned to Memphis, Tenn., after visiting her aunt, Mrs. W.H. Thompson, 85 S. 16th. On a more solemn note, nine men, including two from Paris, had enlisted during the past week at the local Army recruiting station.

At the Grand, Ginger Rogers was playing in Tom, Dick & Harry. At the Plaza was Hit the Road with the Dead End Kids; at the Lamar, High Sierra with Ida Lupino and Humphrey Bogart; and at the Rex, the Marx Brothers and Tony Martin in The Big Store.

Finally, a busy week was coming up. On Monday, the Junior Welfare League would meet at the Gibraltar Hotel, the Paris Rebekah Lodge No. 20 at the 100F Hall, and the Texana Study Club at the home of Miss Jane Barnett. Tuesday featured the Rainbow Luncheon Club, the Naioth Bible Club, the Board of First Christian Church, the stewards of First Methodist Church, and the Brotherhood of Immanuel Baptist Church. Wednesday would see the gathering of the Needlecraft Club, the Gift Club, and a number of church guilds.

A peaceful world was whirling inevitably and nonstop into the vortex of war. I wonder if they saw it coming. Surely, they did.

I’m sure my father, who was a faithful reader of newspapers, knew it was coming. When it did arrive on Dec. 7, he and my 10-year-old brother, who was “caddying,,” were at Paris Golf and Country Club. The story I’ve always been told is that my dad noticed men listening to their car radios in the parking lot, and the news of Pearl Harbor was just coming through.

I wonder what he thought and if he was in any way surprised by it. I wonder if he was thankful that his son had not been born seven or eight years earlier. My brother would serve in the Korean War, but as a radar aircraft technician in the Air Force.

Texas Top 10 Reading Lists

Posted 09.05.07 at 2:03 PM

Interesting article in the Dallas Morning News on Sept. 2, 2007, on “The Top 10 Books on Texas” by Judy Alter. Thanks to Dwight Chaney for sharing it with me.

Jim Lee, professor emeritus and former chair of the English department at the University of North Texas, submitted this list:

» A Woman of the People by Benjamin Capps
» Leaving Cheyenne by Larry McMurtry
» Hold Autumn in Your Hand by George Sessions Perry
» This Stubborn Soil by William Owens
» Farther Off From Heaven by William Humphrey
» Collected Stories by Katherine Ann Porter
» The Great Plains by Walter Prescott Webb
» Interwoven by Sallie Reynolds Matthews
» A Personal Country by A.C. Greene
» The Good Old Boys by Elmer Kelton

Don Graham, J. Frank Dobie Professor of Southwestern Life and Literature at the University of Texas in Austin:

» Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy
» No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy
» Horseman, Pass By by Larry McMurtry
» In a Narrow Grave: Essays on Texas by Larry McMurtry
» Southwest by John Houghton Allen
» The Old Order by Katherine Anne Porter
» In the Rogue Blood by James Carlos Blake
» Different Fleshes by Albert Goldbarth
» Blood and Money by Thomas Thompson
» Some Part of Myself by J. Frank Dobie

Finally, Ms. Alter’s list:

» Goodbye to a River by John Graves
» The Gates of the Alamo by Stephen Harrigan
» Love Is a Wild Assault by Elithe Hamilton Kirkland
» Leaving Cheyenne by Larry McMurtry
» In a Narrow Grave: Essays on Texas by Larry McMurtry
» Wanderer Springs by Robert Flynn
» The Time It Never Rained by Elmer Kelton
» Where Dreams Die Hard by Carlton Stowers
» The Captured by Scott Zesch
» Texas on a Plate by Terry Thompson-Anderson

Noticeably absent are a few of my favorites, including Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry, although I’ve always been partial to Horseman, Pass By. Personally, I enjoyed James Michener’s Texas also, and Bill Owens’ short novel Look to the River. Then, (for me, of course) Ben K. Green’s wonderful Horse Tradin’ and other collections of similar tales.

Ms. Alter asks readers to post their personal Top 10 Texas books at http://www.guidelive.com/texaspages, which is a great Web site. Whether you post or not, it’s a place to find good reading lists. I don’t know about you, but these lists make me want to go to the library now.

Dorothy Humphrey

Posted 09.04.07 at 4:52 PM

There is a really good Web site on which to view the paintings of Dorothy Humphrey (1916-2003).

She attended the High School of Music and Art in New York before attending Hunter College. In 1936 she trained with Ann Goldsmith at the Art Student’s
League in Woodstock, N.Y. She also modeled for the painter Josephine Cantine and married her eldest son Holley. They had a daughter, Toni, in 1942.

Dorothy’s second husband was the author William Humphrey, known widely for his novel Home from the Hill, which was made into a popular movie.

The Humphreys lived abroad for several years, and then they returned to live in Hudson, N.Y. Dorothy’s studio overlooked the Hudson Valley and the Catskills, and she painted there for the next 30 years. Her works reveal the influence of great artists such as Picasso, Modigliani, Braque and Van Gogh.

According to the article on the Web site, she never exhibited her works until she was in her 80s. Many of her paintings, including a portrait of William Humphrey, may be seen in the gallery of the site.

Recent Additions

Posted 08.31.07 at 9:48 AM

Here are some recent additions to the archives library. Thanks to Mrs. Joe Heston for her abiding interest in the James Gang:

» Steele, Phillip W. Jesse and Frank James: The Family History. Gretna: Pelican, 1991.

» Beamis, Joan M. and William E. Pullen. Background of a Bandit: The Ancestry of Jesse James. Liberty: Jesse James Publishers, 1981.

» Triplett, Frank. The Life, Times and Treacherous Death of Jesse James. NY: Promontory Press, 1970.

» McGrane, Martin E. The James Farm: Its People, Their Lives and Their Times. Madison: Caleb Perkins Press, 1991.

Also, not to be forgotten:

» The Forgotten Towns of East Texas, Vol. 1 by Bob and Doris Bowman. ufkin: Best of East Texas Publishers, 2007.

I’ve always been interested in the James Gang myself, and if you really delve into it, as a member of that group of specified researchers, you will uncover not only their bloody Quantrell-related history, but the familial connections of many of them. I’ve always thought the rather long run of successful robberies and lack of betrayal came from the fact that many of the gang members were related, and their wives were part of the gang.

I’ve always been interested in the James Gang myself, and if you really delve into it, as a member of that group of specified researchers, you will uncover not only their bloody Quantrell-related history, but the familial connections of many of them. I’ve always thought the rather long run of successful robberies and lack of betrayal came from the fact that many of the gang members were related, and their wives were part of the gang.

As their men were killed off in their unavoidable fates, the women remained loyal to their memories and profited very little by their notoriety. At least one was from a prominent family, an English teacher who eloped, to the horror of her family, with (I believe) Frank James.

When I was growing up in the community of horse lovers around Paris, it was well known that horses from Missouri, descended from the horses of the James Gang, were great prizes to be acquired. Of course, the gang’s safety depended upon the speed and stamina of their mounts, and they bred and rode only the finest.

Another interesting fact about the James Gang, as I understand it, is that Jesse pioneered train robbing and, of course, led the railroad detectives and the Pinkerton agents on a merry chase. They never did catch up with him. What did the James Gang in was getting out of their territory when Missouri got too hot for them. They robbed a bank in Minnesota, I believe, and the townspeople fought back, killing many of the gang and shooting up the rest. They never did recover from it. (They were Robin Hood-like figures to Missourian farmers, who protected them.)

However, lest you get carried away with the romance of the James Gang, don’t forget that Jesse rode with Quantrell. One of the most chilling images in the entire history of the West (to me) is Quantrell and his riders topping the horizon of a village under attack and flying the black flag, which meant “no quarter” - men, women and children.

A Tribute to Sweet Estes

Posted 08.24.07 at 9:16 AM

Working in the Archives, I came across a beautiful green and gold “PJC Riding Club” flag once carried by Myra Fuller’s horseback riding classes in the mid-60s. It brought back fond memories of the riding classes at Paris Junior College, our adventures and misadventures, and our friends, both human and equine.

But I’ve already written about them. Instead, I decided to tell you about Sweet Estes, who was the inspiration for it all. She was Myra’s mentor, as she’d taught riding successfully at North Texas State University in Denton for many years and owned the large Estes Riding Stables in Denton.

Coincidentally, I lived in Denton for a few years prior to my Paris High School days and again later during my years at Texas Woman’s University, and I stabled a horse at Sweet’s large facility, which was close to our home. She lived at the stables in a roomy old, battered house with her mother, whose name I can’t remember, and Thor, her huge Weimaraner, who was her inseparable companion.

Inspired by Sweet’s career, Myra talked then PJC President Dr. C.C. Clark into supporting horseback riding classes at Paris Junior College.

I hadn’t thought of Sweet in years, but the flag brought her to mind. From the Office of the North Texas University Relations, Communications, and Marketing, came a story about Sweet by Pat Colonna, published back in 1979. According to this article, in 1942, at the age of 17, Sweet rode onto the NTSU campus and brought her whole riding stable of horses with her. “Dean Fouts,” the athletic director, decided to use her horses for a new horseback riding program for physical education, and she taught the first riding classes there while earning her bachelor’s and master’s degrees. She was added to the faculty when she graduated in 1948.

In 1962, horseback riding was dropped, but she had just bought 50 acres for the Estes Stables on Bonnie Brae Street south of the university’s golf course, which is the place that I remember. She organized riding clubs and leased her horses to summer camps. Finally, she sold off 35 acres for a down payment on a 320-acre ranch between Sanger and Pilot Point. Shortly afterwards, riding came back into favor at NTSU, as well as TWU, and classes were taught again at the stables. “Thank God I didn’t sell it all off,” she said.

Then she got into backpacking and horseback packing and camping in Colorado and had already spent 12 summers working horse trips by the date of the article. Thor had his own little backpack that he carried on these excursions.

On the first backpacking trip to New Mexico, they got lost in a surprise blizzard, but the trip had a happy ending. Sweet’s motto was, “Prepare for the worst, hope for the best, and smile through it all.”

As a child, she had acquired an old circus pony, and besides the love of riding, she enjoyed renting him for short rides by other children. She had 15 horses when she left for college, accompanied by her family, and they opened a riding stable in Denton.

In her 20s, she came down with tuberculosis, but the college held her job for her. A family member rescued her out of a hospital before she lost a lung, and she lived for a while in the high Southwestern desert country. Her mother held the business together back in Denton while she was gone and also sent special homemade foods to her.

Eventually, Sweet recovered fully and resumed her active life style although she’d been told that she would never ride again.

What do I remember of this remarkable woman who died in August 1989? I remember a rather small, pretty, compact woman with a tanned, weathered face; a clean stable for primarily women students of the colleges (there was no rough riding or rough talking); I remember her kitchen, which was the social center, and her kitchen dining table, one end of which was piled high with paperwork - it was her “desk.”

I remember a railroad track just west of the stables. I used to ride my mare down the railroad right of way and, sure enough, got caught one time by a fast train headed for Dallas. It would have been a horrific accident, but my good mare stood as steady as a rock while that train passed us by - far too close for comfort.

This is the abiding memory I have of my days at Sweet’s stable, but I wasn’t in the riding classes. I could only look on enviously. But Sweet was kind and attentive to me, anyway, and I enjoyed knowing her and her white-haired mother, and I vicariously enjoyed their exciting life style. I always have. I still do.

Thanks, Sweet, for those good times. I’m sorry my “thank you” is long overdue.

Local Authors Part One

Posted 08.14.07 at 12:43 PM

Aikin Regional Archives is constantly looking for material by local and regional writers, past and present. Here is a list of authors and poets whose work we are seeking to add to our collection in the archives.

Ruth Cross, author of The Golden Cocoon, wrote half a dozen other novels, as well as articles and short stories.

Sue Mildred Lee Johnston of Red River County, novelist, among them Overlord.

Alline Ellis Kane of Galveston lived in Paris as a child and attended grade school here, and with Ellen Newman coauthored the novel Hold a Candle to the Sun.

Mrs. Cordie Webb Ingram of Roxton wrote a novel, Child of the Sun, as well as a volume of verse, Southern Symphonies.

Dudley Early of Hollywood, Calif., film writer, also wrote short stories, and a novelette, You’ve Got to Have a Build-Up. He was the son of Walter and Claire Dudley Early of Paris.

Hardison Patton, brother of Mrs. Joe F. Williams, wrote two volumes of non-fiction on fur-bearing animals.

Rowland A. Egger of Richmond, Va., son of Dr. and Mrs. E.L. Egger, wrote The Retirement of Public Employees in Virginia and other works on economics.

Jack Dailey of New York, son of John Dailey, wrote What the Market Is Going to Do.

Bill Owens (Wm. A. Owens) wrote a variety of novels and non-fiction, including the Paris Junior College “song,” still in use today. Also a folk-song preservationist, he wrote Swing and Turn, as well as other pieces on ballads and folk songs. Most of his works feature Northeast Texas.

E.L. Dohoney, who helped to frame the Consitution of Texas, wrote several philosophical pieces, including The Constitution of Man.

Dr. J.M. Fort, a local physician, wrote the travelogue, The Texas Doctor and the Arab Donkey, about a journey through the Holy Land.

Ruth Cross

Posted 08.13.07 at 2:54 PM

A novelist from the Paris region, Mattie Ruth Cross, (1887-1981) is little known today, but four of her books are in Aikin Archives: The Golden Cocoon (1924), The Unknown Goddess (1926), and Enchantment (1930). Those of her books which we do not have are The Big Road (1931), Soldier of Good Fortune (1936), and Back Door to Happiness (1937). She has two works of nonfiction to her credit: Eden on a Country Hill (1938) and Wake Up and Garden (1942).

Born in Sylvan, a small community east of Paris, she was the oldest of four children of Dr. Walter D. and Willie Alta (Cole) Cross. The family moved around the South while her father, a high school principal, finished his medical education. Then they returned to Sylvan, and she attended local schools. Her mother was a music teacher and an inspiration to Ruth, who graduated Phi Beta Kappa from the University of Texas. She had enrolled there in 1904 and worked her way through college by teaching in small towns in Texas and Oklahoma. Suffering from an eye condition, her mother went to Austin to assist Ruth in her coursework. After her mother died, she depended on friends to read and take notes for her. She graduated with a B.A. in creative writing in 1911 and went to Longview to teach. She emphasized oral work in her foreign language classes to spare her eyesight.

In spite of her poor vision, she remained adamant as a writer of fiction. Bold for her time, she studied at the University of Chicago and worked as a housekeeper, travel companion, decorator, and even
a real estate broker to make ends meet.

Her success as a writer began in 1922 when Louis B. Mayer used her short story, “A Question of Honor,” as the basis for a movie. Two years later, when Harper published her first novel, The Golden Cocoon, he paid her $25,000 for the movie rights, and Warner Bros. filed it in 1925.

She married George Palmer, a horticulturist and financier, in 1924, and they bought Edendale, a 40-acre estate in Connecticut. Ruth loved fruits and flowers, but prior to her husband’s death in 1947, she sold Edendale. She lived briefly in New York and then moved to her mother’s hometown of Winnfield, Louisiana, to be near family. She donated her papers to Northwestern State University in Natchitoches, which a year later in 1976, published her final book, The Beautiful and the Doomed.

Many of her stories are set in the fictional “Laws’ Chapel,” which is the counterpart of Sylvan.
At the age of 88, when she died, she was planning a novel about her psychic experiences.

From the opening pages of The Golden Cocoon, which quickly captivates even the modern reader (well, it did me): “Molly wrung out another nondescript little two-legged garment, shook it fiercely between slim, brown hands, and tossed it over into the blueing water..
“‘I hate men, I hate marrying, I hate children,’ she announced tensely through set lips. ‘I hate them, I hate them, I hate them!’” . . . She was, in the village parlance, ‘good in school’; so much swifter than any other girl or boy in Laws’ Chapel that she had long since gobbled up their common-school grammars and histories and marched on in a class by herself to demolish rhetoric, English literature, and even Latin.”

I’ve ridden horseback long ago all through the Sylvan area, when I was a girl and had never heard of Ruth Cross, but I have vivid memories of some of the old homes in that area. I would like to know where she was born. Can anyone else send me additional information about Mattie Ruth Cross? Also, a photograph would be a valuable asset to the archives. We have no pictures of her.

War Remarks

Posted 08.07.07 at 9:20 AM

Lt. Hoyle Barr graduated from PJC in 1938, served in World War II, and was one of 12 U.S. pilots featured in the Nov. 23, 1942, edition of Life magazine in an article entitled “Life on Midway: On a Pacific Outpost Marines Make a Home.”

A really neat item I treasure is a cloth “service star” that hung in the window of Gaynell Bramlett’s home. It belonged to her parents, Willie and Joe Bramlett, for their son, Walter, serving in the U.S. Coast Guard, which was guarding the East Coast looking for enemy submarines during World War II. Many will remember Gaynell as a longtime employee of Liberty National Bank, and Walter was her brother.

He survived the war, but Gaynell kept his star all these years. Family members Shirley and Joe Bridges brought me the star with a few other items of historical interest, and I have hung the star behind my desk. I can’t seem to bring myself to put it away in storage. 

The archives at Paris Junior College has copies of all the PJC Galleons. The 1943 Galleon was the largest ever published by the college at that time. Its 141 pages memorialize the World II Two effort of Paris Junior College, and the front cover pictures the flags of all U.S. allies around the globe.

One of my favorite annual activities is the Veteran’s Day ceremony held each year in DeShong Chapel on the PJC campus in Paris. Paul Bailey, who is retiring soon, calls out the names of every PJC student who has ever perished in a war, including World War II.

I hope that Paul will make a point of returning to continue calling those names for us in the coming years. Having worked a considerable amount of time with, especially, the names and histories of the World War II casualties, I think each year, as their names are intoned and the chapel bells ring for each name, of the handsome, cheerful, young PJC students who left their girls behind, left their campus classes and teachers and activities behind, and bravely went off to war, but never returned.

It’s really wonderful that once a year some of us (the ceremony is sometimes not well attended) gather to remember those boys. Every PJC student who has given his life in war is called by name every year. How tragic and sad that they saved their country from its enemies, but not the world from war.

The Ozarks

Posted 07.16.07 at 1:57 PM

A sad note came in the mail today from the 102nd Infantry Division Association, the Reunion Group of the famous Ozarks who trained at Camp Maxey in Paris, Texas: notice of their last meeting.

Reading from the resolution to be acted upon at the membership meeting in St. Louis Aug. 19-25, it says, in part:

WHEREAS, our 102nd Infantry Division Association has been in existence for more than sixty years ...

WHEREAS, by reason of advancing age of our members, the youngest approaching the middle eighties, and by reason of failing health and a growing death rate, it is becoming increasingly difficult to find members willing to ... service the needs of the association ...

NOW, THEREFORE, BE IT RESOLVED that the time has come for the dissolution of the 102nd Infantry Division Association ...

Sixty years seems to be the magical number, as I’ve read that the Pearl Harbor Survivors Association is disbanding, also. In a way, it is very sad to be losing our last remaining World War II veterans, who truly (to me) are “the greatest generation.” But on the other hand, if it has to be, and as the current president of the Association says, “tempus fugit,” perhaps it’s best to end it with great dignity and a sense of farewell.

I see the organized and solemn endings of these types of organizations as typical of the way these brave men and women lived, and survived, with determination to go out in yet another act of courage. Good job, guys and gals. You won’t be forgotten by America. Not ever.

Old Paris Businesses

Posted 07.09.07 at 3:05 PM

Did you know that the Famous Shoe Store was on the north side of the Paris Square, according to a 1911-12 city directory, next to the Bedford Book Company? I’ve always known it to be on the east side of the Square, and it was there during my childhood when I had my feet X-rayed in their “machine” numerous times to assure a perfect fit.

Who knows what happened to that old machine? If it’s still around, it’s an antique, not to mention a conversation piece.

I enjoy looking at old ads. These are in an 1898 church directory. J.W. Rodgers, Furniture, Carpets, Curtains and Draperies, was at 301-307 Bonham St., and they sold for cash or installment. Pictured on one page is The Artesian Laundry Washer, “without an equal.” The Rev. Chas. Manton said it had been used in his family and was giving “entire satisfaction.” It was for sale at M.F. Allen’s on the East Side Square, but the Acme Steam Laundry, C.E. Binion, Prop., had written a letter of praise addressed to Roach & Hicks, patentees, Paris, Texas. Were Roach & Hicks Parisians? Did they invent it?

Here’s an interesting one: Trinity University (for both sexes) “Moral, Retired, Refined,” in Tehuacana, Texas.

And what do you know, here’s one for the Famous Shoe Store in 1898. “Famous for the best Goods at the LEAST PRICE, and for men to wait on you that understand the Shoe Business”: A.W. Deatherage, Jno. Snell and H.E. Hutchison. Of course, the man in my day was Glenn Edwards.

Shopping Paris

Posted 06.25.07 at 11:46 AM

Looking at an issue of the Paris Morning News dated Feb. 28, 1938, I see a few interesting items.

First, a picture of the completed laboratory operated by Lamar Creamery Company, which many local readers remember. The caption reported that recently a local bottle of ungraded raw milk for sale in Paris revealed over two million bacteria, touted as yet another reason why pasteurized and safely processed milk is your best buy.

Of great interest to me, a fashion show of “original hand knit models” (women’s suits) on “living models” was scheduled for 3 p.m. Tuesday on the second floor of Perkins Bros. Company, which occupied a large building and basement in the middle of the south side of the Plaza downtown. I have fond memories of the old Perkins Bros. department store. Paris has never had a women’s clothing store to equal it before or since, but perhaps it’s just in my child’s mind.

It was a small version of one of the old Dallas department stores, such as Titches, also gone forever. These stores had an elegance that made shopping in them a wonderful experience. The clerks knew their local customers and their preferences.

My mother religiously ventured forth every year to purchase a new suit, one in the spring and one in the fall, for herself, and then we would go to the old Hollywood Shop for her new hats (one spring, one fall), and I was outfitted with a few new school clothes in September.

Mine would be things that she couldn’t sew for me, such as a winter coat. I fondly remember one in particular that was a lovely cream-colored wool with a dark brown velvet collar. The clothes that we ordinary working folks can afford to buy nowadays are nothing in style and quality to what we could buy even in the pre-war years, much less the years of prosperity following the war.

I miss the mom and pop stores that were in Paris then, but they are gone forever, along with the times when ordinary folks could afford to open a shop of some kind and make a modest living at it. I remember a “filling station” in far West Paris owned and operated by one of my dad’s friends, and he and his wife lived in an apartment behind the station. We would go out there to “fill up” and stay and visit a while.

I also fondly remember the old Ayres Department Store, which had the most elegant women’s lingerie department; it seems to me that it was on the balcony. Now it’s another antique store. And the drugstores were wonderful places with real soda fountains, and besides the usual pharmacy and drug items, they also sold beautiful bath and perfume sets. “Midnight in Paris” was a popular brand. The bottles are expensive collectibles now.

Still another article in this issue was “Nazis Watch ‘Test Tube’ of Austria,” which, it says, “seethed ominously” on Monday, but an “alert” Austrian army had quelled a possible uprising against the German threat that Chancellor Kurt Schuschnigg was “finished.” In the same short article, it tells of “fresh outbursts” against Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain’s policy of bargaining with Hitler and Mussolini.

Since this small article appeared in a corner of a back page, alongside a report of the “Big Apple Revue” at the Grand Theater, I wonder how many Parisians were even aware of the black clouds of war rolling over Europe that would engulf them in a few short years.

A friendly critic said I ought to leave off that paragraph about the war, but the eve of World War Two in Paris has always intrigued me. In spite of the heartbreak and deprivation of those war years, it would have been such an exciting time to live. I’m almost sorry I missed it.

Milking Cows

Posted 06.22.07 at 9:50 AM

Hilarious. Catching up on the area newspapers that come into the archives, I noticed a great picture of a Hopkins County Dairy Festival Queen Pageant contestant, Morgan McCormack, watching her parents, Karen and Sput, milk a cow during the milking contest in the Hopkins County Civic Center Arena.

It says the McCormacks “coaxed” 4.5 ounces of milk out of the cow, earning them second place. (Sulphur Springs News-Telegram, June 11, 2007) It didn’t say how long it took them to retrieve 4.5 ounces of milk, but it reminds me of my dad, a city man who somehow never left the farm, emotionally. Often he would buy a milk cow to milk, and we would have an abundance of milk and cream for a while. My mother was not fond of this repetitive trip down memory lane, especially the making of butter from the separated cream, but nothing could stop him when he decided to do it.

The cow that stands out in my memory was “Henrietta,” a purebred Jersey purchased from the old Nelson Dairy Farm on U.S. 82 East, if I remember correctly. I do remember that she had a little wicked set of perfectly curved horns, and her good behavior, while being milked, lasted exactly as long as the bucket of grain lasted.

The trick was to feed her and then milk like crazy before she’d had enough of being tugged on, especially after she ate the feed. Nothing is as sweet and gentle-looking as the dark, dewy eyes of a Jersey cow, but in Henrietta’s case, they were deceitful!

He always had the cow “tested” to be sure her milk was safe to drink, but of course, it was unpasturized. It had a funny taste, compared to store-bought milk, but we would gradually get used to it. We had lots of fresh butter, cream, whipping cream, ice cream, and drinking milk - until he tired of the game and sold his cow. Then we’d go back to the store.

I also remember the days in Paris when the milk was delivered to the doorstep in the mornings in big glass bottles with cardboard stoppers. My dad lived to be nearly 80 years old, and as far as I know he used pure whipping cream in his morning coffee every day of his coffee-drinking life. If he suffered from high cholesterol, we never knew it.

Paris: Early 1900’s

Posted 06.21.07 at 2:20 PM

Here are a few interesting new additions to the archives:

The Business Annual of Lamar County and Texas Year Book for the Year 1900 is filled with information. Read it and weep. The city tax rate, for all purposes, was $1.25 on each $100 of property values, and the county tax rate was 85 cents on every $100 worth of property. The city assessment of property values for taxation in 1900 was $4,272,000, and the county as last assessed, was $10,603,532 The city had three newspapers: Paris Daily News, 3 1/2 N. Main St., issued every morning except Monday, A.P. Boyd, proprietor; The Daily Advocate, 500 Grand Ave., issued every afternoon except Sunday, W.N. Furey, proprietor; and The Dinner Horn,213 Clarksville St., issued every day except Sunday at noon, Walter E. Boyd, proprietor.

In the last county election, only 4302 cast their votes, and only 7964 in the last presidential election. However, the population of the county was approximately 50,000.  Not much new there.

Another interesting booklet is Traffic Ordinance, Paris, Texas, Effective March 14, 1915.

“The word ‘horse’ shall be construed to mean and include all mares, mules, or any other animals used for a like purpose.”

“The word ‘vehicle’ shall be construed to mean and include all wagons, buggies, carriages, drays, trucks, pushcarts, bicycles, tricycles, motorcycles, automobiles or any other wheeled or runnered conveyance, except baby buggies and street cars.”

Of particular interest is Section 13: “No vehicle shall be driven in the business district, nor in turning any corner, at a greater rate of speed than ten (10) miles an hour, nor in any other part of the city of Paris at a greater rate of speed than eighteen (18) miles an hour. “

Looking back at Paris nursing

Posted 06.05.07 at 2:44 PM

A recent interesting addition to the archives is a copy of The North Star Nurse 1926, a yearbook published by the seniors of the Paris Training School for Nurses.

Edwina A. Taylor was editor-in-chief, Zellene Stevenson was assistant editor, and Ruby K. Sissel was the business manager. The book contains sections on classes, departments, faculty, “the study hour,” “bones,” “fluoroscopic,” valedictory and alumnae. It was dedicated to Miss Sarah Agnes Hogg, and pictured as the officers of the board of directors are H.P. Mayer, president; N.H. Ragland, vice president; T.J. Record, vice president; R.W. Wortham, secretary; and Neville Brooks, treasurer. All were prominent Paris businessmen of the era. Miss Elizabeth M. Hilf, R.N., was the superintendent of the Sanitarium of Paris and, of course, Dr. L.P. McCuistion, the chief surgeon and medical director.

Looking at old yearbooks is great fun. They included everything. Here is an extract from an examination paper:

“Convolutions are ruffles on the surface of the brain.”

“What’s the singular for bacteria? It hasn’t any singular. They are too small to exist alone.”

The alumnae directory begins with the Class of 1911: Willa Hilf and Mrs. Ray Culvert. Then it skips to 1913, which included Winnie Chambless and Mrs. W.W. Knuppel.

However, the class of 1914 had more students: Etta Moss, Mrs. Travis Lanier, Mary Weddege, Bess K. Newell and Martha Hughes. Pictured as the senior class in 1926 are George Ann Norvell, Ruby K. Sissel, Jewel Marie Guinn, Vera Elizabeth Peterson, Essie Maye Glover, Ellen Earl Nanney, Zellene Stevenson, Brentye Smythe Fielding and Edwina A. Taylor.

The esteemed faculty taught Ethics and Surgery (Dr. L.P. McCuistion), Anatomy and Physiology (Dr. R.L. Lewis), Obstetrics and Gynecology (Dr. J.L. Hammond), Materia Medica (Dr. W.W. McCuistion), Petiatrics and Medical Diseases (Dr. L.B. Palmer), Hygiene and Psychology (Dr. J.E. Fuller), Oral Hygiene (Dr. B.F. Thielen), Eye, Ear, Nose, and Throat (Dr. O.R. O’Neill), Bible Study (E.H. McCuistion), Materia Medica again (Dr. J.L. Van Dyke), Bacteriology (Dr. Lewis Gooch), Chemistry and Dieto-Therapy (Dr. D.S. Hammond), Nutrition (Margaret E. Kennedy), Practical Dietetics (Mrs. S.L. Austin), and Urology and Dermatology (Dr. H.H. White).

It seems an impressive faculty for 1926 in Paris, Texas.

When riding was all the rage

Posted 05.30.07 at 10:08 AM

Browsing through our comprehensive history of Paris Junior College, I came across an article that dates back to my day as a student: “Horseback Riding Gains Popularity.”

The PJC president at the time, Dr. C.C. Clark, said that a man had told him that his daughter had chosen another college over PJC because it offered horseback riding. Upon doing some research, Clark reported that especially girls were choosing such colleges because of equine activities.

Consider that PJC was in the act of dropping football, which upset a lot of folks, and a PJC English instructor, Myra Fuller, was an accomplished horsewoman who promoted horseback riding to one and all. Horseback riding was an idea whose time had come.

A large horse barn and arena were on the south end of the 1960s campus in Paris, probably in the vicinity of the greenhouse and the volleyball court. Myra was dedicated to the English style of riding, which was a great challenge to any country kids that had ridden “western” style, if at all, before they arrived at PJC. She also loved a good horse, not the sleepy, lazy kind commonly seen in riding stables. No, sir. Our PJC horses were gaited, for the most part, and they were generally the kind of horses that any experienced rider would have been happy to claim. I remember the lineup to this day:

There was a strawberry roan Tennessee walking horse whose favorite ploy was to stand straight up on his hind legs and scare his rider half to death. Two of the tamer animals were named after popular television characters of the day: Ben Casey and Gil Favor. Ben and Gil were gentle-hearted and pliable creatures, much in demand. There were many more: Belle Starr, Rambler, Danny Boy and others.

However, two scenes from those days stand out vividly in my mind. Myra purchased for the college a little bay paint walking horse from Louisiana, who was promptly named Cajun. He was a wicked little horse, too. His thing was balking by just falling down, whether he was being ridden or not.

Dr. Clark, who was not from Texas, bought himself a spectacular western saddle, bridle, and breast harness - the whole nine yards, all in white - and put it all on Cajun. He mounted. Cajun took a few steps, and then just fell down in the dirt and the muck. Dr. Clark scrambled off safely, but Cajun made a mess of all that snow white leather.

In the another incident, some boys helping out with maintenance drove a wrecker too close to the arena. The ground was bumpy, and as they were passing by the boom on the back of the truck fell.

The heavy chain whipped around and hit one of the students in the head and knocked her out cold. Her best friend fainted in sympathy. They had to be hauled off to the hospital, and I remember Myra running around screaming, “It wasn’t the horses’ fault! It wasn’t the horses’ fault!”

Both girls were fine, although one had a headache. She recovered, though, and came back later to PJC and taught many years in our nursing department. The accident didn’t kill the program, but I left PJC, and Paris, to continue my education, and it fizzled out a few years later.

Paris in 1919

Posted 05.21.07 at 4:16 PM

I came across an interesting brochure in the archives recently on Paris, Texas. It pictures the Paris New High School, costing approximately $200,000. According to this brochure, c. 1919, Paris boasted:

25 miles of paved streets
5 miles of a street railway system (we could use this now with gas so expensive)
120 miles of cement sidewalks
16 miles of sewers
3,768 automobiles and motor trucks
1 municipal abattoir and meat curing plant
5 hotels
16 restaurants
19 barbershops
1 theatre
3 movies
6 wagon yards
1 park
1 baseball park
17 churches
10 public schools
1 high school
14 boarding houses
1 business college
3 telegraph companies
1 telephone company
3 fire stations
1 gas plant
3 hospitals
3 greenhouses
12 garages
2 daily newspapers
1 weekly newspaper
5 commercial printing plants

There were five banks: the First National, the City National, the American National, the Lamar State, and the First State. They boasted a combined capital and surplus of $1,641,148.63 and combined deposits of $5,639,065.13 with combined resources of $10,380,519.39, according to their statements in May, 1919.

The monthly combined payroll for 33 factories was over $135,000. They employed 1,500 people. Some of the many factories:

Ames Shovel & Tool Co. (shovel handles)
Paris Box Factory (boxes and egg crates)
Rodgers-Wade Co. (furniture)
Paris Candy & Bottling Co. ("Dixie Peanut Bar” candy)
Paris Peanut Factory (peanut butter and oil)
Gregory Vinegar Co. (vinegar and cider)
Paris Broom factory (brooms and mops)
Purity Ice Cream Factory
Velvet Ice Cream Factory
Griffith & Freese (soda water and Coca-Cola)
Hogue Mfg. Co. (auto truck bodies and wagons)

There were, at that time, 30 lawyers in Paris, as well as 94 notaries, eight dentists, 35 physicians, and four undertakers. “Clubs” that were thriving were Rotary, Country, Golf, Elks, the Retail Merchants Assn., and the Chamber of Commerce.

1918 in Paris

Posted 05.15.07 at 11:00 AM

Old scrapbooks yield many treasures, including both news of the prominent and that which might be called “trivia” in the year 1918.

On May 29 the obituary of a prominent African-American, Jack Dawson, reported his sudden death, at nearly 70, while visiting at the home of Louis Burrell on North 24th Street. A porter at the “union depot” for many years, he had been well known for shouting, “Wildcat over the hill!” and other expressions in announcing the arrival of “No. 5” and other trains.

On April 10 an article reported that Miss Winnie Wiggs, all of 14, had bought a $50 Liberty bond which she paid for entirely in pennies. She had been saving them for the past four years and had actually accumulated $85 in pennies, so in addition to the Liberty bond, she bought War Saving Stamps.

Dr. W.W. Fitzpatrick, a popular young physician, was called for service to France in the medical reserve corps, which saddened the city of Paris.

Then a landmark in old Paris retired from his job, according to the news of March 27:

“One of the things that have just passed away in Paris and given away to the new order is the street hack or carriage, which has been supplanted by the service car, and is now used only for funerals occasionally and once in a while for a wedding. With the passing of the hack the familiar face of Aaron Greiner, the veteran hack driver which had come to be regarded almost as a landmark, will not be seen as often as it has been for many years past, and he will be missed. He drove the first hack that was ever placed on the streets of Paris. It was back in the ‘80’s when Uncle Bob Gresham ran a livery stable, a