Although the entire state was securely democratic, a small nucleus of Republicans was highly influential in keeping the national Democratic candidates largely conservative. Dad, Mr. A.W. Mills, and a couple of Searcy citizens satisfactorily launched Wilbur D. Mills from Kensett on his first Congressional campaign, and helped him retain the office for years (bipartisan before most of us were aware or the word or its meaning. On a number of spring/summer trips to Arkansas from Washington as I was later based there in training and the military, I would load select, fresh strawberries in the car and deliver several quarts to Polly and Wilbur Mills and their two daughters at their apartment on Connecticut Avenue at the zenith of his chairmanship of the Committee on Ways and Means. But I'm getting well ahead of my stories.
In 1931 (age 8) I was Judsonia's entry in several White County school contests, which were held in McRae that year. I placed first in Voice and Declamation (and was awarded medals shaped as silver leaves with '32 engraved in their centers). In the aggregate entrants from each town were pitted against their peers from other teams in the county or district and a very competitive atmosphere resulted and each school vied for the most winners.
Some 15 miles or so north of Judsonia was a cotton gin, used in late summer/fall, owned by a family named Wools. This was less distant from town than was Steprock or Providence, but located in difficult and at times temporarily impossible. The Wools installed one of the first telephones in the area, and it became the site for many calls to/for "the doctor". A trip there in late afternoon/evening, especially in the winter, could be predicted to require most of the night. Our telephone during my youth was mounted on a wall in the living room, required turning a hand crank to be connected via an operator (Miss Frona Huff for many, many years) at the town phone center with multiple plugs, indicator lights and a ringer switch. The line to Wools', at least early on, was a party line, so connections could be unpredictable and difficult to complete. In addition, the transmission of voice sound often wavered and was faint, so a struggle often ensued for understanding at both ends of the line.
Dad made many, many calls resulting from this primitive connection over the years. In bad weather, or when a home site was obscure, the man of the house would often meet dad at the gin and convoy and guide him for the remainder of the trip -- sometimes on horseback or wagon or buggy. I recall that mother expressed dread of calls from the gin at night, especially in inclement weather! In those years we never locked doors or windows, and certainly lived in no fear. I recall Dr. Gill wandering in, out and thru the house as uninhibited as he did in his own, sometimes to mother's dismay. "Doc" was the only dentist in town for several decades. He had graduated in dentistry also from the University of Tennessee in 1914, the same year as dad in medicine. He continued to follow his profession until shortly before his death when he was in his 90's. I recall Booter expressing some worries about him for he would take impressions for false teeth and get some of them mixed up and when the patient returned for his/her new teeth those presented didn't fit. Doc never seemed discouraged, he'd simply make a new impression and send it off to a lab for the dentures to be constructed. At that time he'd sell them for $35.00 -- when other dentists were charging $300 to $500 a set. People laughed about it instead of complaining!
My memories of my maternal Grandmother, Mattie Elizabeth DeShong Lewis, are reasonably clear. We all called her "Mama". She lived her years in Judsonia and it was a tough, poor and proud journey. Widowed at a very young age she ran a room and board house in her home. She needed some help in rearing her three children, and being eldest my future mother was taken to Texas for a year or so under the aegis of Uncle Andrew DeShong. "Mama" maintained a cow with a chicken yard and a garden behind the home and I recall my first introduction to a large black snake in the chicken house when I was startled while gathering eggs as one of my first chores to find him in a chicken nest with a partially swallowed egg. Mama also enjoyed her flowers and had a bed of very fragrant hyacinths on the north side of the house that bloomed around Easter. She made a few train trips to/from Chicago to visit Mona, Mr. North and Romona and my first postal cards came from her. In the early 1930's she developed a debilitating illness that was finally diagnosed as Amebiasis, also I felt some uncertainty persisted. She received therapy for many months. She was relatively cachectic when she died and we had moved into her house during her terminal months as she progressively became unable to care for herself (weakness). For the two winters prior to her demise mother, dad and I more or less lived with her and Mona and her clan did so during Christmas holidays and longer. She died around Easter time in 1933. The funeral service was held on Monday, April 17, 1933 at the Baptist Church and was conducted by Rev. O'Neal, pastor of the First Baptist Church of Judsonia. (I became 10 years old that month).
On another night I was awakened by the shrill wail of the town's fire siren and gazing from our front windows could readily see a huge blaze engulfing the entire building of the Ladd Auto company, about 2/3 of a block to the south. It was frightening to me. The volunteers battled all night but the building was totally demolished and the auto agency never replaced. Such fires in a small town were not rare; most of the time firemen did a good job but most often the losses were total and it was a relative miracle when no adjacent structures were damaged. The fires notoriously seemed to occur at night.
1930 - 1934
During my grammar school years and beyond certain favorite playmate attachments evolved: among these were James Walker, Jr. , Billy Green, Raymond and Russell Browning, Bobby Jim Frazer, Emerson Bowman, Neal Hampton Jr., Imogene Land with whom I was paired around age four as principals in a Tom Thumb wedding, Sarah Frances Waggoner with whom the "wedding" was repeated at a shower party for a local bride-elect; Janis Mann, Jack & Joe Strahl, Herbert Reed Holmes, Edmond Gaines, and others. Those of us living nearest one another palled together most often. Often following school a group would informally convene in our yard to play baseball, and it was lively. One day I was pitching, Neal was catching and Emerson was at bat. He fouled off a pitch and the ball made its way to an upper window pane, shattering it with dramatic noise. Neal shed his meager catching paraphernalia in a flash and he and Emerson, who were black, took off on a run for parts unknown The remainder of us broke out laughing at them, and we didn't see them again for about a week... and others enjoyed the story for quite some time. Emerson lost his life in WW II.
Some of my teachers were:
- 2nd grade - Mrs. Young
- 3rd grade - "Miss Hazel" Stevens
- 4th Grade - Miss Velma Overstreet
- 5th Grade - Mrs. Thomas Young
- 6th Grade - Miss Veda Burge
- 7th and 8th Grades - Alton Williams & Mrs. Williams.
and in high school Isham W. Dillaha who introduced me to logic indirectly via his expert teaching of plane geometry, geometry; Wesley Carpenter, algebra and Latin; Mrs. Mavis Jarvis for English and literature; J. Earl Stover for some civics and math; and Mrs. Gladys Graves was stuck with me for private piano and voice lessons (One of her favorite admonitions to me was "whatever you do, don't attempt to mimic Bing Crosby").
Home Town entertainment was big and a part of the local culture. There was a band pavilion in the center of the city park that apparently had been highly utilized through the early part of the century & when typical Oompah and Sousa music was performed. It was torn down to provide appropriate space for the site of the Community Hall constructed under auspices of the WA during the depression years and during my father's tenure as mayor. The town always prided itself on the performing arts, especially its musicians who usually developed and performed their talents within the churches. A number of the ladies taught children privately in piano, violin, and voice, and under school sponsorship group performances such as trios, quartets and glee clubs and the town's representatives in various levels of contest competition usually ranked well.
Before my time some local halls were available for various types of performances. The first I recall was "Beals Hall" (but it had been preceded by "Kittler's Hall and Briggs Hall.") Briggs Hall came into being in 1888 with a large stage curtains and 200 chairs. There were no generation gaps in the cast. Veterans who had appeared in many other home talent productions were there to give confidence to teenagers appearing in their first plays. When Briggs Hall finally became dark for the last time Kittler Hall replaced it and both were located up a flight of stairs over a store and a mortician's offices. By this time the town also had a symphony orchestra. At a Soiree Musicale program presented in Kittler's Hall which had a large roll down curtain and an auditorium filled with wooden folding chairs, on August 21, 1908 a vocal solo featured by Miss Mary Maynard singing "The Last Rose of Summer." Fifteen years later she was singing "Tales of Hoffman" in His Majesty's Theatre in London under her stage name of Mary Lewis. She had become a star of the Metropolitan Opera in New York, and also performed in Vienna and Paris. At this London Performance she was called back to the stage 15 times and the theatre lights had to be extinguished before the performance could proceed. Instrumental accompaniment, especially by piano was common Home talent plays, some by school children but also some by adult artistically- motivated groups were produced and presented with little or no difficulty in attracting audiences. Beals Hall (The Electric Theatre replaced Kittler Hall) and was located up a flight of stairs over the post office and an adjacent confectionary store. Some were typical three act plays. Others were short "fillers" often presented between acts.
In a 1915 performance by the symphony, conducted by F. G. Briggs the symphony unit had the following performers: violins, Dorothy Welton, Felter Huntley, Mary Steadman, Mona Long, Wayne McCauley (destined to become a brigadier general in the U. S air force during WW II), Gypsy Woodyard; clarinets, Alfred Strahl, John Jameson; coronets F. I. Welton, Ethel Steadman; French horn, T.H. Young; trombone G. E. Smith; cello, Mrs. F. L. Welton; bass, Dr. J. C. Huntley; drums, Victor Beals; piano, Willie Lewis. On March 19, 1922 Miss Mona Lewis was presented in recital at the Kempner Theatre in Little Rock by Maestro Oscar Rust that was a triumph. Shortly thereafter she married Roy Moses North thereby abandoning an exceptional musical career. Mr North became an assistant Postmaster General under Postmaster General James A. Farley and President Franklin D. Roosevelt.
I recall performing once in such a Beals Hall role. My small mutt terrier named "Joe was attached via a long leash on his collar. I marched out to the front, mid-stage clutching my end of the leash; suddenly it began to be strained and pulled from me and I had to brace and and exert all my major effort to hold on to it, being physically tugged toward a wing off the stage. I recall being genuinely surprised by the vigor with which the off-stage adult (Arle Queen, I believe) devoted to that leash. Deliberately he would pull me almost completely back into the stage wing before loosening enough slack that I could partially regain control and reposition myself near center stage and my log seat where the tugging would begin anew.
After several repetitions of that exercise which had been only partially rehearsed, when I regained center stage "Joe" was released and trotted whimperingly to me. I picked him up and seated myself on the log appropriately positioned, and hoisted him into my lap. I had no prior experience with a dog immersed in overwhelming stage fright, and Joe's was severe and genuine!. At that point I was supposed to launch into a popular song of the day "Sittin' on a Log and pettin' my Dog" and of course capture the audience, butt Joe was so obviously unrehearsed that the audience cared naught about my performance. Joe cuddled in my little arms all right, but was so frightened that he was shuddering and quivering uncontrollably, and as I endeavored to stroke and reassure him to calm down he reached upward with his head and began to lick me all over the face. The audience thought that was hilarious and reacted accordingly. Mother was accompanying me on the piano and led me back into the lyrics which I recall was Sittin on a Log, Pettin my dog, feeling blue as blue, Sittin on a log pettin my dog thinkin of you. I did my best to complete it but Joe decided it was for him and furthered my facial massage. Once it was finally completed and Joe received a an ovation with a little "polite applause tossed my way. Then, back to the play. I don't recall ever taking Joe on stage again. Once was more than enough.
Beals Hall (aka The Electric Theatre) also provided the first local arena in which motion pictures were projected, initially 35 mm silent films. Mrs. T. H. (Annie) Beals employed mother to perform the background piano music for these films paying her a quarter, or a dime, or......nothing. When these early movies were multi-reel in length it was necessary for the projector to be shut down and restarted when repositioned and rethreaded. While the new reel was being displayed on the screen the older one was manually rewound by the projectionist (Victor Beals most of the time). After talkies came in vogue transient vendors came into town with 16mm projectors, often on Saturday afternoons, and the movies usually were traditional westerns starring Gene Autrey, Tom Mix, Hopalong Cassidy, Roy Rogers, Ken Maynard, etc. The community hall also largely displaced Beals Hall for the stage presentations.
In the late 1930's one of the stores under Beals Hall was converted into a full- time movie house and named "The Judd". The first screening was "Theodore Goes Wild". It became a popular local attraction for both youngsters and adults and continued until WW II when it joined many other small towns in closing because of an inability to draw adequate audiences.
Transient acting groups also had a professional presence, presenting an array of selections by stock companies during one or two week visits, either within their own tents or using a local stage. "Toby " (always with a red-haired wig) comedies were popular and performed at least once during an engagement. These "tent shows" usually appeared around strawberry harvest time. At some point my mother won a popularity contest sponsored by such an attraction and her diamond "prize" still enhances my fraternity pin chapter insignia.
High school senior and occasionally junior classes, traditionally prepared and presented a play to raise money with which to sponsor their class activities. Our class of 1941 presented "Murder at Midnight" in which Leah Kathryn Pence and I had leading roles. Kathryn experienced a very untimely and premature death in an auto accident in Texas only a few years later.
My first fishing "trip" was with my father, at about six Years of age. The Lindsey brothers were commercial fishermen and had a floating raft /dock at the northern end of the "wagon bridge" crossing little Red river. It was one of the town's centers of activity and very attractive to a small boy. Most of the boats were propelled by paddling or rowing (a complete form of exercise). But, there were a few with inboard motors, usually belonging the commercial fisherman who utilized nets and trot lines for several miles up and down the river. Some fairly large fish were netted/caught, and many penned in live boxes (board and wire containers attached to the dock), especially buffalo, carp, and mud, blue channel, and spoon bill catfish. They were sold by the pound and would be freshly dressed on the dock.
The river on both banks was wooded with a variety of vegetation, including weeping willows and a rare patch of bamboo . One could approach the edge of the water from the upper portion of the bank and identify areas where upon sitting a cane pole outfitted with hook, sinker and float could provide adequate access to the water. Locales where there were brush or old tree tops, logs and the like were ideal. One was well advised to visually screen the area and surroundings for snakes, especially small water moccasins.
On this particular spring afternoon Dad selected a spot on the north bank of the river a couple of hundred feet to the west of the Lindsay dock. Both of us had bamboo poles about ten feet long (I couldn't handle a longer one at that age.) Dad baited our hooks with redworms from a can also containing a little dirt. He was more interested in my reactions than his own results. The perch and bream were moderately active that afternoon, so I kept him fairly busy in taking a number of fish off my hook and re-baiting it. The fish were small but I was thrilled by all the activity. I must have landed a couple of dozen, and to my disappointment all were released after a short time because of the small size. It was one of all too few one on one outings with dad, but I was "hooked" on fishing forever thereafter.
Occasionally, via rowboat or motorboat with the Lindsays either Dad or Doc Gill would take me out for two to three hours for fishing from a boat and I was introduced to crappie and an occasional straying bass using minnows as bait. As I got a little older I graduated from worms to roaches and grasshoppers in addition to occasional minnows (the latter were more expensive costing about 1/2 cent each). At the same time we began to catch other types of fish including bass, rare alligator gar, and even less often a drum, catfish or other bottom fish. Doc Gill was a very patient teacher, as were Jimmy and Booter.
As I grew older into grammar and then high school I enter some reasonable fishing situation within 30" after school, a form of recreation often enjoyed with chum Stover. When we were in our mid/late teens we had saved enough money (about $5.35 as I recall) to commission a man living in the depot section of town to build us our very own paddleboat completely caulked and tarred. Somewhere we acquired a half gallon of oil based green paint which we applied liberally. Further, we christened it the "S. S.OSWALD". Don't ask what the S. S. was supposed to represent, but I suppose one of us had read or seen it somewhere.
We enjoyed our boat for a couple of summers before leaving it tied to a willow tree one afternoon below the railroad bridge and only to discover several days thereafter that it had been purloined. A sad day, but we were unable to replace it and turned our attention in another direction.
On another spring/ summer following an overflow we found enough old lumber and other materials alongside a creek at the lower dump that our Tom Sawyer/Huckleberry Finn instincts recognized as adequate for the construction of a raft. The creek then ran through a culvert under the railroad bed a high mound supporting double tracks. Using a pole that reached the creek bottom each of us could propel the raft and traverse the length of the culvert, a distance of some 100 to 150 feet. Within a couple of weeks we had rigged a trotline running through it. Using