I thought I might try putting down some of the events that I remember or was told to me. Since I didn't rank real high in English or literature, overlook some of my shortcomings.

The Horses-
As was told to me by Momma. We lived on Crowell's place and I was 15 months old. She was looking for me and finally saw that I was in the barnyard wandering around amongst the horses. There were several horses, as Daddy did the plowing with them. Anyway, guess she let out a scream and went running to get me, but before she got there a horse kicked me in the head. Think she said I was out cold for awhile but luckily wasn't hurt that bad. ( a close call )

The stove-
Still at Crowells place, I may have been about 3 and Sister around 1. I can remember a vacant room at the house, don't know why it was vacant but had an old stove in it. Sister and I were in the room playing and Momma looked in to see what we were doing. We were playing around the old stove and had black soot all over us including our faces. Just as she looked in I had noticed Sister’s face being black. She said my words were. " Mary Libba!!!! "

The washing machine-
We had a gasoline washing machine that had a kick start. Seems like Daddy got it at Monkey Wards, can't imagine how we had enough money to buy a washing machine. The machine was at the windmill, seems like about 75 yards from the house but probably wasn't that far. Momma, Sister and I were washing clothes, when we heard screaming from the house. We had an old dining room table with about a six-foot bench on one side where the kids sat to eat. Seems like Momma and I ran to the house and found that Tootie decided she wanted some syrup. We had Karo syrup in 1 gallon buckets. Anyway Tootie, in trying to manage the syrup bucket, turned the bench over and poured the syrup all over her head. About that time we heard screaming from the windmill and we ran back to it. Sister had an arm in the wringer and Momma hit the trip on the wringer to get her loose  Just another day on the farm!! Try more later.
                               
Tootie:
Was trying to kinda stay in chronological order but remembered Tootie being born. We lived at Crowell's place and the doctor and other people, can't remember who they were, were in the bedroom where Momma was delivering. I decided I wanted my yellow truck which was in the bedroom.  Don't know why I had a toy truck as I remember using a rock as my car, I called it a Packard as that sounded important. Anyway, I barged into the bedroom to get the truck, and everybody starting hollering, “You can't come in here!” I think I got the truck anyway.

The fiddle:
 Still at Crowell's place of course. It was my 5th birthday and Momma wanted to go to the mailbox to get my present. Don't know how she knew it would be there. Anyway  we were gonna go in Daddy's old car. I'm sure she had never attempted to drive a car in her life. We got in the car and she somehow got it started but couldn't get it in gear, think she may have been using the brake as the clutch. About that time Leonard came along and showed her how to get it in gear. Somehow we made it to the mail box and I was all excited as I was getting a birthday present. We had a big mailbox and when we arrived, there was this black and white speckled box sticking out of the mailbox. When I opened it, it was a fiddle. It was smaller than a regular fiddle. I was very disappointed about it and never touched it as far as I know. Also don't know whatever happened to it. (Mama gave the little fiddle to one of cousin Tom Matthews' boys, as they had a family band when they came to pull bolls in 1949. Tootie)

The tractor:
I was still 5 and still at Crowell's place. Leonard had bought a new F-20 Farmall tractor. For some reason I had a fascination for cars, tractors, etc. Daddy would let me try about anything and I found if I put the crank at the top, and got to the side and put one foot against the tire and pulled the crank with both hands, the tractor would start, as it was new and started easily. As I recall I was quite proud of myself being able to start the tractor. Daddy would never say anything but think he got a kick out of things like that.

 Momma fright:
Still 5. One day Daddy was going to plow the sudan patch with the new tractor. The tractor was backed into an old shed with just the front of it sticking out of the shed. Daddy had to go and open 2 or 3 gates to get through the barnyard to the sudan patch. While he was opening gates I decided to start the tractor. With one click of the magneto it started. I also decided I would drive it around to the sudan patch while I was at it.  Daddy would let me drive sitting in his lap so it wasn't my first experience at driving it. Momma heard the tractor start and looked out the window.  Her version was; there was Houston opening gates and the front of the tractor sticking out of the shed and about that time the  tractor started moving and she couldn't figure out what was going on. As the tractor emerged there I was driving it. I'm sure about then she was near panic. I had to make a couple of turns to make it through the lot but made it ok. Daddy didn't seem to think anything about, was probably actually proud of me, but probably gave Momma a few gray hairs.      

The ice cream cone:
Still at Crowell's place, I must have been about 4 and sister 2. One day we went to Quitaque with Daddy in our old car. He got us an ice cream cone to eat while he went into the store. Anyway it may have been the first ice cream cone I'd ever had. While eating it the cone got soft and stuck to the roof of my mouth .I guess I thought I was near death; I got down under the dash and was just screaming as loud as I could. Sister was just looking at me and wondering what in the world was going on. Don't remember exactly how I overcome my tragedy.           

Company:
Don't remember who they were but 2 men, kin-folks, were visiting us. One day they were going to go to Quitaque and I wanted to go with them.  Going to town or anywhere for that matter was a big deal back then  Anyway Daddy said I couldn't go with them and of course I was very disappointed but I came up with a plan. I slipped out to their car and hid behind the back of the seat. As they were on the way to town seems like there was a hill you went down. About that time  I decided it was time to make myself known and raised up an said BOO. They both liked to have jumped out the door, were going down the hill at that time. Anyway the hill wasn't that far from the house so they turned around and took me back home. Lost out again. Must have been 4 or 5 at the time.   

Hoeing cotton:
Think I was 5 at the time, and for some reason I always wanted to go to the field with Daddy. May have been the kick in head by the horse. I remember there wasn't much to hoe as there were no goat heads or Johnson grass. There were only some gypsum looking weeds and not many of those. Daddy decided if I was going to be there anyway I could hoe one row while he took two. Seems like he got 10 cents an hour and I got 5, but don't think that could have been right as that would have been a dollar a day and don't think he made that much until ‘38 or ‘39. Don't think I did that much so no danger of child labor laws. Ha.                                                           

Crowell's place:
Seems like there is a lot of memories from Crowell's place, guess its because we probably lived there longer than any other place. I was born in Lockney, then we moved to Quitaque, then to Crowell's probably in ‘32 or early ‘33, as I think Sister, Peg and Tootie were all born there and Sister was born in April, 33. Daddy seemed to have a little Gypsy in him and would move on in a heartbeat. Crowell's was one of the better places that we lived but still didn't have electricity or running water. Leonard and wife lived in Flomot and owned a hardware store. I think Mrs. Crowell had some geese at the farm and would come out and pluck feathers from them to make pillows.

Killing hogs:
The people who had hogs would kill them for meat when the first cold snap moved in. When we had hogs, that was usually the only meat we had and when it was gone sometimes we would have a treat on Sunday and have fried chicken. Anyway back to the hogs. After killing them they would put them in scalding water and then scrape the hair from the skin. That was usually my job and it wasn't easy; Daddy would say you’re not scraping hard enough.One fall there at Crowell's we not only had a hog but also a calf. Daddy killed the calf, I think, by hitting it in the head with an ax.  Sounds gruesome but guess you gotta do what you gotta do. Anyway we were eating high on the hog, so to speak, that fall. Daddy would rub the meat with sugar-cure, work it into the meat to preserve it, as there was no refrigerator, as there was no electricity. Some people had a smokehouse to put their meat in but Daddy hung ours on the north wall of the house, no smoke house.

Killing chickens:
Maybe one Sunday a month we would have fried chicken. Momma would get on the cell phone and called Kentucky F., oops,  got carried away there. The chicken deal was simple, you would go to the hen house Saturday night and get a chicken from the roost, put the chicken under a tub.  Sunday morning Momma would get the chicken from under the tub, grab the chicken by the head and wring it until its head came off. Sounds kinda gruesome but you gotta do what you gotta do. Then I believe she would scald the chicken, pluck the feathers and gut it. Seems kinda simple.  Ps.  Don't know how the chickens would do it, but they would jump around some after their head was gone. (really!)  Stay tuned..

Crowell's place
The thistle:
I'm still about 5, seems like a lot happened while being 5, looking forward to being 6. One day  I found this weed which looked kinda like a thistle, out by the back gate which led to the cow pasture. The thistle was about a foot high and globe shaped. Anyway guess I was getting tired of eating cornbread and beans which was about all we had after the meat was gone after hog killing, so decided it was time to eat high on the hog, so to speak. I took the thistle to Momma and asked her to cook it for me. Probably unwisely, she cooked it and I ate it. I remember I got very, very sick. That was the end of my weed eating except  careless weeds which grew along the turn-rows in the fields. We would pull the leaves and cook them, as I recall they were good, maybe taste something  like turnip greens. When you’re hungry you gotta do what you gotta do.

 School:
I'm kinda confused about starting to school. Seems like I was in the 1st grade while at Crowell's place, I remember walking about a mile to catch the bus. Someone lived there that had a concrete water trough by their windmill. I remember it would be real cold and for some reason I didn't want to wear a coat, may have been the horse kick, but I would try to slip off without a coat but Momma would see me and holler, come back and get your coat on. Also seems like I was in the first grade at Spring Grove and also when we lived on the Franks place east of Flomot. I know all of this couldn't have happened. Figure one of you with better memory could help me there.    

Spring Grove:
 Momma was always homesick and most of her family lived around Gainesville, Sherman and Howe which we referred to as East Texas which was actually North Texas. So when I was six we moved there. We must have actually lived in Gainesville for a few days as I remember going to school and got lost trying to find our house after school. Then we apparently moved to Spring Grove and lived on the south side of the highway, probably highway 82. To get to school I walked to the highway,  went west a-ways, then went north a half mile or so to the school. I remember the first day I went, there was a girl who I think was a cousin, maybe about 10, don't have a clue which cousin or a name. Anyway I remember walking up the highway and I was walking on the center stripe., and told her I needed to tee-tee. She said go ahead and I remember never stopping but tee-teeing on the center stripe as we were walking; must have been very modest. 
                           
More Spring Grove
 We had moved from Crowell's place to Gainesville for a short time, then on to Spring Grove. The old house was east of the road that went to the Spring Grove school, maybe a half mile and a quarter mile or so south of the highway. Apparently the house had been vacant for some time, as I remember there were tadpoles in the well or cistern. Daddy poured some kerosene in the well. He poured too much in there and the water was terrible to drink, didn't have much choice though. Then one day Roy and Shirley came over and their youngest daughter, can't remember her name, threw the baby kittens in the well. She must have been about 3. They also had J.W. who was a little younger than me and Marie who I think was about my age. Can't remember how we got the kittens out of the well. (The girl was Frances. Daddy lowered Walter into the well on the bucket and he rescued the wet kittens.  You would think he could remember that part better than me, as I was maybe 2 1/2. Tootie)

The teachers lunch:
As I alluded to earlier I walked to school, everybody walked to school as there was no school bus. They had one teacher and the grades there were one through six. I was in the 1st grade. Anyway everyone took their lunch to school. Can't remember for sure what I took, was probably a fried egg, assuming we had chickens, in a biscuit, in a brown bag. I had to bring the brown bag home every day to take the next day. Before long the bag was greasy and wrinkled. One day at school I decided it was time to eat high on the hog, so to speak. We kept our lunches on a shelf in back of the room. When it was time to eat I went back there and got one of the nice, new clean sacks and went out to eat at the merry-go-round.  There was a light-bread sandwich and potato chips. I ate the sandwich, very possibly the first light-bread sandwich I ever had. Don't remember us ever having light-bread, but wouldn't eat the potato chips as I didn't know what they were. Then to cap things off I remember kicking my boots up in the air, then taking a pee. When we got back to class my old brown paper sack was still on the shelf and the teacher was rather irate as I had got her lunch. Guess that was the last light-bread sandwich I had for awhile.

Uncle Will:
Uncle Will, I'm assuming, must have been a little strange. I think he must have been closest to Momma in age, being a little older than her. Anyway I remember Momma saying after WWI was over, Will never came home. Momma tried missing persons and whatever but couldn't find any trace of him so assumed he was killed in the war. Then about 10 years later he came walking up the road to the house. After that he disappeared again and no trace of him. One night it was dark and we were eating supper and someone knocked on the door and it was Uncle Will, think he said he'd been in California. After a few days he left again and I don't remember ever seeing him again, don't know if Momma did or not. Don't know where he was when he died either. (He showed up again about 1950 and visited us occasionally. Walter was in England --Air Force— at the time.  Tootie)                                        

Back to Flomot:
I suppose it was very hard to make a living in East Texas as there wasn’t much going on in the way of farming, etc, so we moved back to Flomot on Calvin Franks’ place which was east of Flomot close to the road between Turkey and Matador, I think. I must have been in the second grade, as Sister hadn’t started to school. About all I can remember about school was walking to catch the bus, seemed to be about a mile. I remember one day I wasn’t real fond of attending that day so I got about half way to the road to catch the bus, hid behind a tumble weed until the bus came and left, then went back to the house and told Momma that I missed the bus. Luckily I got through that unscathed.

The rattlesnake:
As I remember, our house was close to a river, dry river, and it was very bad for rattlesnakes. There was a cane field next to our house and one day Tootie, about 15 months, and I got some of the cane and were eating it. There was an old shed there and I was sitting with my back against the shed and Tootie was in front of me. I thought I heard something under the shed and stuck my head down to look under it. There was a gigantic rattlesnake with his head about one foot from my face. I jumped up, grabbed Tootie and drug her away from the shed. When Daddy came in from plowing I told him about the snake. He and some other man, don’t remember who, were trying to get the snake out. They then started ripping up boards from the floor trying to get him  He eventually made a run for it and they killed him with a hoe. I think it was the biggest rattlesnake I ever saw, and I’ve seen many. I got to thinking as I grew older that if he had bit me in the face it might have been all over. Another close call.

The black widow spider:
There were many black widow spiders in West Texas, seems like it was a near epidemic in those years. There was an old garage with a dirt floor and it was full of black widows. One day Daddy made a torch on the end of a pole and was going to burn them down in the garage. Of course all of us kids were right in the middle of this, as this created a little excitement in an otherwise dull day. Anyway Daddy was burning them down with his torch and Sister was barefooted and a big black widow crawled up on her foot. She gave a kick and the spider went sailing. Daddy said, way to go. He didn’t get excited easily, as a matter of fact, don’t remember him ever being excited.

Dink:
About the only other thing I remember, Dink was born on the Franks place. Can’t remember the details, but seems when Momma went into labor someone notified Daddy, who was in the field somewhere. Seems like he then went to Flomot and called the doctor in Matador who came to our house to deliver the baby. It’s a wonder anybody made it.

The Cheston Franks place:
We apparently moved from the Calvin Franks’ place to Cheston Franks. It was located northeast from Flomot, don't know how far. It was a pitiful house, as most were we lived in. The walls were dual purpose 1 X 12 planks, dual purpose because the outside wall was also the inside wall. I remember that there were cracks between the boards and newspapers had been stuffed in the cracks to help keep out the wind. I believe I was in the 3rd grade at this time. Franks didn't have a tractor so horses were used to farm with. Don't remember if they were horses or mules, anyway there were two young ones and Daddy was breaking them to work, pull, etc. They were named Kate and Jude, both mares. It seems that Jude was very lazy and one day Daddy was hooking them to a wagon and Jude laid down on the tongue and broke it. Guess he finally got her to working OK.

The runaway:
I liked to go to the field with Daddy and ride on the plows, sitting on an iron rod for hours in a hot sun and dust. Must have been the kick in the head. One day he was plowing with a cultivator and when he was turning around at the turn row, the horses broke into a run. We were flying down the turn row, the plow was bouncing all over the place, Daddy was trying to get the plows in the ground and I was holding on for dear life. He finally got them stopped and I walked back to the house feeling like a hero, couldn't wait to tell Momma. She said I know, I was watching, and was probably about to have a heart attack. Didn't think much about it then but now realize if I had fallen off under the plows it could have been a disaster. Another close call.

 The car:
We had some kind of old car, naturally, we never came close to having a new car. This particular car wouldn't start with the starter. There was a cellar there that had a pretty good mound above ground. When Daddy would park the car he would back it onto the cellar so as to get a running start off of it and  maybe it would start the car. If it didn't start it he would go harness up two  horses and pull it and get it started. One day he pulled it with the horses and got it started;  about 1/4 mile away was a gate we had to go through. He stopped to open the  gate and I asked him if I could drive the car through the gate. He said go ahead and naturally I killed it right off. He didn't say anything, just went and  got the horses and pulled it again. He of course was very patient.                                  

The blizzard of ‘39:
I was in the 3rd and Sister was in the 2nd as she had skipped the 1st grade. I believe it was in March when we went to school that day, and as there were no TVs and very few people had radios, no one suspected that a storm was coming. Around noon that day a terrible blizzard hit. It was snowing very hard and the wind was blowing around 40 mph out of the north. They immediately turned out school and got everyone on the buses.  Our bus was a small panel truck they had converted into a bus and there were 10 to 12 kids on our route. We lived about a half mile or better from the road. The road dead-ended at that point and the bus turned around there. The driver who I think was a teacher made it to the end of the road and Sister and I got to the front of the bus to get off. He asked me if I thought we could make it, and what did I know, I said yes. He thought a minute and said I'm gonna take you to Washington's. The Washington house was about a mile back down the road and maybe 200 yards off the road. He tried to drive us to the house but got stuck turning into their driveway, He got us off the bus to walk to the Washington's house, he was carrying Sister and had us all holding hands. The house was east and the wind and snow were hitting us from the side and seems like we kept trying to turn south. It was a struggle but we finally made it. They finally got the bus unstuck and took the other kids (Sister, me, Calvin and Ava Nell Monk stayed at the Washington's) on to Wade Martin’s house where they stayed. Don't remember who all stayed at the Martin's but  remember Boxie Birchfield was one of them. He got some notoriety out of the storm as he didn't have a coat on. Stories were told that by the time we got to Washington's he had snow and ice around his head. We stayed at the Washington's for three days and James Monk came along on his horse and carried Sister and me home  Daddy and Momma were surprised to see us as they thought we were still at the school house all that time. I remember snow being piled up to the top of  Washingtons' chicken house, fence rows with tumble weeds were completely covered over, cars were mostly covered up also. I don't think Daddy and Momma ever knew that we almost got off the bus that day. I know we probably wouldn't have made it 50 yards if he let us off. Another close call.

The rubber hose:
Curtis and LaVern McGon, brothers but not twins, were in  my class. They were illiterate, couldn't read or write. Curtis was about my age, maybe a  year or so older, and LaVern was a year or so older than Curtis. They would sit it the back of the room and never participated in any class activities, but each year they would advance with us to the next grade as though they had an A+ average. One day Curtis held up his hand and said to the teacher, “Walter Gunn is chewing gum.” The teacher asked me if I was chewing gum, I said, “No, a paper wad.”  She said, “Lets see it.” I pulled out a piece of bubble gum that would have choked a small mule, can't imagine where I got any gum. She said go in Mrs. so and so’s room and get the rubber hose. The 1st and 2nd grade was in one room and the 3rd and 4th in one room. So I had to go to the next room to get the hose. The teacher, can't remember any of the teachers’ names, asked me if I was going to get a whipping. I said no it  wasn't me. The rubber hose was 3 feet long or so and she would double it to give you a whipping, and that’s exactly what she did. At recess the two teachers got together and knew I had told a story about who was getting a whipping. Then the teacher made me go back and apologize to the other teacher for telling a lie. That was not a particularly good day.

The present:
 By the time I was in the 4th grade we had moved to a house in Flomot, don't know whose house it was but think it was up past the two churches. They held a Xmas program that year in the gym which had a stage at one end. We must have drawn names to get someone a present, however I don't remember getting anyone a present, but maybe did. This involved all the grades. They had a Xmas tree on the stage with all the presents under it. They kept calling kids names to get their present. I was perched down on the front row not wanting to miss my name when called. It went on and on and I'm anxiously waiting for my name. I remember Rooster Gilbert, apparently he liked crackers, kept getting a box of crackers about every 3rd gift. Finally it was all over and my name was never called and I was sick. Then someone said you have a present up there; apparently they called my name and I missed it. I rushed up and got the present which was a cap pistol from Doyle Calvert, also had caps too. I was as happy as someone getting a new BMW. It was the first cap pistol I every had as far as I know.
 PS. Think Curtis and LaVern went to school till about the 6th grade before they quit coming. Guess they had all the three R's they needed.
                           

The measles:
The short time that we lived in Flomot, there are only a couple of things I remember, one being the measles. There was a man who lived in Flomot that drove a Buick coupe, can't remember his name but seemed like he was kin to Barney Martin. Anyway guess this man was kind of a bootlegger. Daddy bought a pint of whiskey from him and made me hot toddies for the measles. Daddy had quit drinking years earlier but probably still had a yen for whiskey. Anyway I think he had a few snorts from the bottle, guess he didn't want me getting it all and getting drunk at my young age. ha When we lived there is was during the dust bowl of the thirties. I remember one day around noon it got very dark from the dust coming in.  It was kinda different from the sand storms that we got periodically. I can  remember us scooping sand into wash tubs to get it out of the house.   One time a sand storm hit during a basketball game at school and they stopped the game so everyone could try to get home. We lived east of Flomot at the time and remember Daddy driving real slow with his head sticking out the window trying to see the road.

The cotton patch:
At this time we lived at the Moore place, northwest from Flomot. Daddy told me when I got in from school to come to the cotton patch and pull bolls. Daddy had a theory that you didn't tell someone but one time to do something. As a matter of fact it may have been more of a law than a theory. When we got in from school I didn't want to go pull bolls but knew I needed a good reason not to go. Quickly I came up with a plan, that being I needed to get my lessons. To further bolster my plan: We had an old, of course,  black pickup. I figured I would be doing math problems on the door of the pickup when Daddy and Momma came in from the fields, also figured he would be highly impressed when he saw my work. I got a piece of chalk and was doing all kinds of complicated math problems when they came in. It was getting close to dark when here came Momma, Daddy and the dog in from the field. Daddy went to a tree and started cutting a limb from it and I thought, what in the world did that dog do to get a whipping? A few second later I found out that I was the dog. Don't think I ever challenged his "one time theory" again. Many times I've seen people say something like, no Johnny don't do that, Johnny I said no, I'm telling you again, don't do that, now look at what you've done now Johnny. I can tell you one thing, if little Johnny had belonged to Daddy, little Johnny would have been in deep s--t !!!!

Free lunch:
There at the school they had a small lunch room, don't know if they had a regular cook or the home-ec class did the cooking. Anyway you could eat in the lunch room but it was a moot point to us because we took our lunch as we didn't have the money to eat high on the hog, so to speak. I believe I was in the 5th grade and one Friday I didn't go to school. May have been sick or may have been pulling bolls. When Sister and Peg came home from school that Friday, they had big news. They had started a program where the poor people could eat in the lunch room free, and they were told that they would get the free lunch. I worried myself sick wondering if I would get to eat free. I could hardly wait until Monday to find out and the first thing when I got to school, I ran to the teacher and asked her if I could eat free and when she said yes I couldn't have been more  excited if I had won the lottery.

Back to North Texas:
About this time we made our second move to North Texas, and what’s odd is I can't really remember any of our moves, which were numerous. Sometimes we didn't have a car and never had a truck that I can remember, so don't know how these moves were accomplished. I believe Peg said in her memories that the grocery store owner, Kuykendall moved us back to Flomot in the fall of ‘42 and we rode in the back of his truck with a load of apples. Anyway I think we moved by a town call Whitesboro and picked cotton for awhile then moved back to Spring Grove which is east of Gainesville. At Spring Grove I believe that we moved into a mobile home which was just a little ways south of the school house. This was the same school I attended when I was in the first grade. It had grades one through six and one teacher taught all grades. After the 6th grade you went to school in Gainesville. As I recall our water supply was a spring in a pasture which was south of our house. I'm almost sure that we didn't have a car at this time as I remember Daddy and I walking to church on Sundays and it seemed to be two or three miles away. (The tiny trailer house was an earlier move. This time we lived in a three room house with a family cemetery out back, which Mama took care of, maybe to pay the rent. Daddy had an old pickup he used to haul wood for people until the war started, tires were rationed, and he then had no way to make a living.Tootie)


Cutting wood:
 Jobs where few and far between in ‘41 so Daddy at first was trying to make a living cutting wood. I believe that he got a dollar a rick for the wood he cut. Sometimes I would go with him but wasn't much help. At times it would be very cold and he would make a small fire for me to warm by.  Can't imagine why I would want to stay in the cold woods all day, may have been the kick in the head. I remember Daddy was always trying to improvise and he had a cross cut saw which is actually a two man operation. He made a big rubber band out of an inner-tube and would hook it to one handle of the saw and to a tree, with the idea being that the band would pull the saw back after he had pulled it to him. Don't know how well this worked, don't think he got a patent on it.
                                               
Spring Grove - 1941: 
Usually when we lived in West Texas we had a milk cow and chickens, but when we would move to North Texas we had neither. I was old enough to figure out that you could get along pretty good if you had a cow and chickens but it was tough if not. As alluded to earlier Daddy was trying to make a living cutting wood, he got $1.00 for a rick and on a good day maybe he could cut one rick. That fall he decided to go to West Texas and pull bolls to try and make a little more money. He lived in Cousin Harley's old shack while he was there but the problem was, it started raining and wouldn't stop. He finally came home after a couple of months, and I'm sure with very little money. Don't guess there was such a thing as welfare then, but Daddy wouldn't have took it anyway. Looking back now, I'm not sure how we had enough to get by, but somehow we managed.

Mrs. Wolverton:
She lived a mile or so north of us and her Grandson, who was a year or so older than me, lived with her. I would go up to play with him and sometimes help them with the milking, gathering eggs, etc. Sometimes if she had extra milk she would give it to us. I remember carrying it home in a gallon syrup bucket; she probably gave us eggs also. Anyway it was a life saver as we had milk to drink, milk to cook corn bread, and butter. If we didn't have milk, Momma would make bread using water; trust me, it wasn't very good. Second thought, it was awful. Mrs. Wolverton's grandson’s parents were divorced and the daddy had the oldest and the mother the youngest. The oldest, the one I visited, lived with her and the youngest lived with his mother in Gainesville. The one I knew was about like the rest of us, but the youngest seemed like a sissy, he came to visit Mrs. Wolverton periodically. I assumed he was a sissy because he lived in town so I decided then and there that I never wanted to live in town.  I could just tell it would ruin you forever.

The Treat:
One day Tootie and I had a nickel. Can't imagine how and why we had the nickel, but we decided to walk to the store and buy some candy. The store was south a-ways on the highway that went to Gainesville. Before we got to the store we found a moon-pie beside the road. Someone had taken one bite out of it and threw it away. It had a few ants and some dirt on it but if you’re hungry you do what you gotta do. We grabbed the pie, cleaned it off, went and got something with the nickel, then we were eating high on the hog, so to speak.  We were very proud of our accomplishments.

The gun----Spring Grove, 1941:
Somehow or another I had come up with $5.00. I think I made it picking cotton. Someone, maybe the Partaines, had a farm a couple of miles north of where we lived. I remember us picking cotton there. However $5.00 was a small fortune then but somehow I manage to have it. I bought a worn-out, single shot .22 from someone, can't remember who. The gun had a lever action but after shooting it, it wouldn't eject the shell. You had to pry it out with a knife after each shot. May not of been much use in an Indian attack. I was very excited about owning the gun, you would have thought I had a new AK-47. I had a friend who lived a couple of miles or so north past the school house, their house being on the right about a quarter mile off the road. I tore out for his house and was holding the gun over my head as I came up their driveway, you would have thought I was Jim Bowie or Davy Crockett. I eventually broke the gun in West Texas killing a rattlesnake by hitting him with the butt-end.

Stealing apples:
The state came out with a program of furnishing apples to the schools for the kids to eat at lunch. I believe it was one of the Partaine boys and I slipped in the school one weekend and got us a couple of apples. Naturally the teacher found out who did it and punished up by giving us a bunch of math problems to work  I was pretty good at math so I sailed through the problems in no time. A week or so later we decided to get us some more apples, figuring even if we got caught, doing those math problems was a piece of cake. We got caught again, math problems? Guess again.  Around the school area grew a type of tree, bush or something. They had a stalk  about 3/4 inch thick, grew about 4 foot high with some growth on the top. The teacher cut down 4 of these and proceeded to wear out two apiece on us. I can remember pieces breaking off the end and flying across the room and hitting the stove. It was by far the worst whipping I ever had. If a teacher did that now they would probably have her in Sing-Sing. The calves of our legs were black and blue with big whelps on them. I was careful not to let Momma and Daddy see my legs, but apparently the Partaine boy complained about his, for one of his older brothers who was grown came to the school. He stood in the back of the room with his hands on the back of a chair and she was in front of the room. He chewed her out good, can't remember any details of what he said.  I remember she was crying after he left. PS. My apple stealing days were over.

 Dec 8, 1941:
When Sister, Peg and I got to school that Monday morning, the teacher asked us if we knew we where at war. I said yes, I've gotten a flood of e-mails, well maybe not. Actually with no radio, no TV, no newspaper and no car to go anywhere we had no knowledge about it. She said Japan has bombed Pearl Harbor and we've declared war. Japan or Pearl Harbor didn't mean anything to us, so guess we said, oh.....

Spring Grove - 1942:
The play:
Towards the end of the school year we were going to have a play. I guess the teacher didn't trust any of us boys to be the leading man. There were two girls in the 6th grade and she had one of them playing the leading man. I didn't think much about it at the time but guess it would have tee’d me off if I had thought about it. Anyway the girl, can't remember either one’s name, who was to play the man part, got sick so the teacher gave the part to me. The night we had the play, Momma was there, as acting was right down her alley; she was kinda an amateur actor and probably a good one. The play ended with me proposing to the girl. The last line went----Would you eh, eh, eh, would you marry me? When I was saying eh, Mommy thought I had forgot my line. She was very pleased when she realized that I had it right on. That was the start and the end of my acting career.

Fall of 1942:
We moved back to Flomot, Peg remembers that Mr. Kuykendall, who owned the grocery store moved us back. I believe he had a flatbed truck and Peg says we rode in the back with a load of apples. We moved to a shack on Cousin Harley Gunn's place and started pulling bolls. After
school started everybody went back to school but me. I stayed out of school that fall and pulled bolls. I remember that Daddy, Momma and I were pulling a bale a day, which was pretty good. I was eleven at the time. That was the only time that I stayed out of school all fall to pull bolls.Some of the other kids never came to school until after Xmas when all the cotton was pulled. You might wonder how they every passed school.

Cousin Bertie:
Can't remember anything else about Harley’s place but do remember one day Bertie offered me a dime if I would shoot a stray dog that was bothering her chickens. I still had my $5.00 gun that I bought in Spring Grove. I took care of the dog and earned my dime.

Fairmont-1943:
We moved from Harley's place to Fairmont which was a little community at one time, but as with all small communities and the advent of autos, they had about gone away. The remains of an old school house was still standing which was across the road from our house. The school house made a good play house for cowboys, outlaws, Indians, etc. The Stones lived nearby and Jimmy Joe was about my age, I think a year or two older, and we had many rounds of cowboy and outlaw in the old school house. We carved our guns out of the ends of apple crates. Daddy started driving a school bus, don't know how he worked that in with driving tractors, but somehow managed. We didn't have a car at the time so we used the school bus as our personal vehicle.Bet that made the school board nervous. (Daddy started driving the bus while living on Harley's place. It was an ancient bus, and he made a deal with the school board to keep it in running condition if we could use it for personal needs, also. Tootie)

The fight:
For some reason I didn't like Oliver Clark, can't remember why now, maybe he was a smart alec  The back seats of the school bus were mostly gone, I suppose cut up and thrown out years earlier by the big boys. They had made a wooden bench for the back of the bus and it sat down the middle and wasn't fastened down  I was sitting on the bench and let the end slide over and hit Oliver, which he didn't like  Pelal Welch, who was older, about 3 years, egged me on to push the bench into Oliver. When I did it again Oliver jumped up and said, “Stand up an I'll knock you down.”  I stood up, he took a swing, I ducked and the fight was on. Daddy saw what was happening and stopped the bus and told us to get off and finish the fight. I guess about everybody jumped off the bus and we went at it again. Don't remember who won the fight but don't think either one of us was hospitalized. ha. I don't imagine a bus driver could get away with that today. But hey, that was Flomot.


Joe Palooka:
I was an avid sports fan and read anything I could find about sports. There was an elderly couple, the Smiths, brother and sister who lived nearby. They took the Ft. Worth Star Telegram. I would walk to their house daily to read the sports page and funny paper. Joe Palooka was a heavy weight fighter in the funnies and he was kinda my hero. They were having a Church of Christ revival in Quitaque and Daddy and I were going over every night in the school bus. Then I discovered that the movie theater in Quitaque was showing the movie "Joe Palooka." I very seldom got to see a movie but I wanted to see this one bad. I came up with the idea that while Daddy was attending the revival I could go see the movie. He quickly nixed that plan and said I had to go to church. I couldn't have been more disappointed if he had cut off my left foot. I think that little incident kinda turned me against going to church.   

 Milking:
 Daddy had rheumatism pretty bad but it didn't usually keep him from working or doing chores. One morning it must have been especially bad and he said he didn't think he could milk the cow. I was 12 at the time and he asked me if I thought I could milk the cow and I said yes. The problem was it was in the dead of the winter, it was very cold, there was 6 to 8 inches of snow on the ground and the kicker was we didn't have a barn or shed for the cow. I finally got her milked but it wasn't easy. I then realized how hard Daddy had it as he had to do that every morning and every night. Also the milking had to be done before sunup and after sundown because when you farmed you worked from sunup to sundown.

The frisbee:
We were continually trying to make, invent or find something to play with as we had no bicycles, scooters, skate boards, or computers. The boys would make sling shots, they had a different name then, out of forks in tree branches, sometimes take the bed slats from under the bedsprings and make stilts  Of course we had to dismantle them and put them back before bed time. We bought Karo syrup in gallon buckets and one day I had the lid and got to throwing it around. I discovered if I held it upside down and threw it, it would sail. Jimmy Joe and I used to sail it to each other in the road. I got to thinking years  later that it was the same principle as the frisbee. Maybe I was that close to being rich. ha  I remember in1943 they came out with a penny that wasn't copper. Don't remember what metal they used but it looked kinda weird. They were  trying to conserve copper for the war. Don't remember much else about Fairmont except going to Edgar and Neval Smith's house to read the comics and eventually I started riding one of his horses which we later bought when we lived on the Skinner place.

Riley and Ben Turner:
Riley and Ben are identical twins and are four days older than me. They lived on a farm out west of Flomot and also had a grocery store in town.  Their daddy died when we were 12 years old and in the 7th grade. There were several kids in their family but all the older ones were gone from home except Riley, Ben and Joann who was the youngest. I think she was in Peg's grade. Anyway due to hardship they were able to get their drivers license at the age of 12. I remember one day at school the teacher was calling  roll and Ben wasn't there. She asked Riley about Ben and he said Ben had gone to Plainview to get a load of groceries. She asked who went with him and Riley said he went by himself. As I recall they had a one ton flat bed truck to haul groceries. The roads into Flomot weren't paved at this time and the road to Plainview, some 50 miles away, was a winding gravel road which went up the Caprock, which didn't make the trip a Sunday school picnic. I'm trying to imagine somebody like my grandson Matt, who will be twelve in may, trying to do something like that. I guess you grow up fast when you do what you gotta do.

 Mable Wooton:
She had moved from Matador to Flomot and attended school for one year, the 7th grade. She was a big fat girl and the boys were prone to aggravate her. The chair she was assigned had a broke seat and dropped down a couple of inches on one side. During recess or lunch we would prop the seat back up where it was broke. When she would sit down the broke side would fall down and make a big bang. Everybody would laugh and she would yell, I'm going to tell Judge Carmack on you. Don't know who Judge Carmack was but assume he was a judge in Matador.  Someone composed a poem: Mable Wooton came a tooting on a bale of hay....Donnie Martin came a farting and blew it all away. Don't know for sure who composed that poem but the prime suspects would be me or Cecil Reed. Thinking back now I don't know why the teacher allowed us to torment her, she could have at least assigned her another chair.

 The radio:
 I was 13 and we had moved from Fairmont to the Turner place as they had moved into town after Mr. Turner died. We had never had a radio and Boots Gunn had got a new one and we bought his old one. Most people didn't have electricity so the radios were battery operated. Seems like this radio had a big blue battery about a foot long and 8 inches high. The plug from the radio was broke so the wires were stuck in the battery and secured by matches, etc. Anyway we were all excited about our new luxury. I would listen to the Friday nite fights, the Lone Ranger was exciting, and I guess the Grand Ole Opry on Sat nites. Sometimes the connections into the battery weren't good and I would sit there and try to hold them in by hand, especially when the  fights were on, and Don Dumphy broadcasting. (Actually, we moved from Fairmont to Skinner's Shack first, then to Turner's and back to Skinner's in 1946. Tootie)

Skinners’ Shack:
It must have been in 1944 that we moved from the Turner place to the Skinner shack, and a “shack” would be an appropriate name for it.  Mr. Skinner owned the farm and they lived in the main house. Daddy started farming on the halves, that is, the owner furnished the land, tractors, seed, etc. and the sharecropper did all the work and they split the profits if any. Don’t remember any bumper crops there but guess we made enough to get by. I know for a time we didn’t have a car, but had two horses. On Sundays Daddy would hitch the horses to the wagon and we would all go to church. I was always kinda embarrassed to go to church in a wagon but it didn’t seem to bother Momma and Daddy any. When the weather was bad we didn’t go in the wagon but Daddy and I would ride the horses to church. I always hoped for bad weather.
   
The show:
Flomot of course didn’t have a theater but for awhile they would get movies and show them at school in the study hall on Sat nites. Daddy and Momma never went to the shows, as far as I know they never saw one anytime. On Saturdays I would walk to town and go to the show that nite.  It probably wasn’t over 4 or 5 miles to town (It was 3. Tootie) but seemed like 10 and more like 20 coming home at nite when it was pitch dark and cold. Sometimes Harley and Bertie Gunn would be there (Harley was Daddy’s cousin) and I would ask if I could ride with them. They had an old PU and it would be bitter cold. I always rode in the back; I would hunch down behind the cab trying to get out of the wind. When we got to their house I would walk on home, guess about a mile. Anyway, I thought it sure was nice of them to give me a ride. Now as I reflect back, there should have been plenty of room in front and it wouldn’t have took but 5 minutes to take me to the road that led to our house. Oh well.

In the study hall there was a glass trophy case, seems like about 4 feet tall and 10 feet long. Several of the men would sit on the trophy case during the movie. One nite (I wasn’t there that nite) there were so many on the case that the glass broke and fell in. The study hall was on the second floor, which would be about as high as a 3-story building. They had put in a new fire escape at the back of the study hall. It was a long slide that we liked to play on if we had a chance. Anyway, according to the stories, when the trophy case fell in, it made such a noise that panic and confusion set in, guess some thought the building was falling in. People were running down the stairs and some going down the fire escape. The best story was Uncle Lee Gunn, who was in his seventies, was on crutches, as he had broken his ankle chasing a calf. The story went that Uncle Lee threw his crutches out the window, ran down the stairs and caught them before they hit the ground. Oh well, a story is a story.
                               
The outhouse:
At the Skinner shack the outhouse was about 50 yards away. One day Kenneth Kell was visiting and we were going to do a little target practice with our 22s. We decided to shoot at the knot hole in the outhouse so we opened fire. Momma started yelling as she was in the outhouse and we didn’t realize same. Luckily she escaped unscathed but I probably didn’t. Come to think of it, the outhouse was a two holer and seemed to be a status symbol if you had a two holer versus a one holer. Now thinking about it, why would you want a two holer? Guess you would be sitting around and announce that you were going to the outhouse, would anybody care to join me? Anyway, Daddy and I never used it, as we went to the barn. Guess our bathroom habits are real interesting?

The party:
I was probably 14 when I attended my first party. Calvin and Ava Nell Monk had the party. Kinda surprised that they were able to have a party as their parents,  James Monk and wife were very strict. I had an old white hat that I wore and it had seen far better days. Brim was cracked and broken, top had holes in it, etc. I found an old black hat in a cellar at the Moore place but it was way too big for my head; however it was in good shape compared to my one-time white hat. I came up with an ingenious plan to cut the brim off the white hat and insert it inside the black hat. This worked out pretty good and I was very proud of my new sombrero. Back to the party; don’t think we as yet had a car. Anyway, I saddled up our horse and rode her to the Monks. I know it was dark when I arrived and may have been a little late as everyone was already there. I kinda strutted into their living room feeling very important, and someone said, Walt take your hat off in the house, and grabbed the black hat off my head. The problem was my white insert was still on my head and everyone laughed and I wanted to crawl under the rug. So my first party didn’t get off to a blazing start.

The 28 Buick:
When I was about 5 and we lived on the Crowell place I remember Daddy talking about the Buick. French Hunt was married to our cousin, and they were considerably older than us, as their son FB was almost my age. Anyway, French had this ‘28 Buick roadster which in its time would have been one of the classier cars on the road. It was a one seater with a rumble seat in back. What I remember Daddy saying was that French wouldn’t take a gold monkey for the car. Years later when I was about 14 or 15 Daddy bought the car from French. However by then it wasn’t the classy car it once was. I know the rumble seat was gone and someone had built a wooden bed in its place. I guess that kinda made it a roadster PU. Whatever had been done to it, we were elated just to have a car.

The Buick:
 The aforementioned 28 Buick was a classic in its time, but time and abuse left only a shell of its original self.  Someone  had removed the rumble seat and made a small wooden bed in its place.  It also had wooden spoke wheels and the spokes were so worn that they were loose in the rim.  As it went down the road the wheels made a clickety-clack sound as the spokes rattled around in the rim. To add to its demise, one day we found a gallon of orange paint, can't imagine where the paint came from. Anyway we decided to touch up the Buick a bit so we painted the hood orange.  We felt that Daddy would be very proud of us when he came in from the fields, but to our dismay he didn't appreciate our art work. He said it would take a barrel of kerosene to get it off, but don't think he ever tried to remove it. Not sure who all was involved in the painting but can't imagine Sister participating and Tootie would have been kinda young which leaves me and Peg.

The flat:
I must have been about 14 and Momma and I had been somewhere in the car, can't imagine where we had been and why but we were headed home coming from West of Skinner's place. It was mid summer and very hot when we had a flat. Back then you didn't have spare tires, you had to fix the flat on the spot.You always carried the necessary tools, patches, pump, etc. I remember I was having hell trying to fix the flat and was kinda cussing under my breath. Momma just patiently waited for me to fix it. Finally after much sweat and near tears it was fixed and we made it home.

Play practice:
 One nite I went to school in the car, as we were having play practice. I had zero to do with the play so guess I was just needing an excuse to go to town. Cecil Reed who wasn't in the play either, was there also. They had a one ton flat bed truck and they used the truck to go coon hunting with their coon dogs. They had a small wooden platform below the bed of the truck for the dogs to jump on and then onto the truck bed. We had the car and truck out by the football field running around the track  Anyway Cecil made a quick stop and I hit the dog loader with the radiator, the cars had no grills then. I started home and got about half way when the car got hot, it had knocked a hole in the radiator. So I walked the rest of the way home. I sure wasn't looking forward to Daddy wanting to know where the car was.  Luckily he didn't say too much when I told him what had happened, but I'm also sure I didn't tell the whole story. About the last thing I remember about the car, Daddy someway had put a pickup cab on it and had made a bigger bed in back. Can't imagine how he did all that with the tools we had. Outside of a hammer, handsaw and a few wrenches that was about it. Somehow he always managed to do something with very little to work with  Also seems like at one time there wasn't a top on the car and Daddy had cotton sack ducking covering.  (The ducking was only curtains for the windows, which had no glass.  Didn’t keep out much of the winter cold.  One Christmas he made a “covered wagon” out of the bed, where we kids rode on a trip to Gainesville, Howe, etc. Tootie)

The 34 Buick:
I've heard the Buick referred to as a 38, 35, etc, but as I recall in was a 34. It was quite a contrast from the afore-mentioned 28 Buick which was a small 1-seater with the rumble seat removed and a small wooden bed in its place. The 34 was a big black roadster with kinda velvet seats, 4 doors and about the length of a hearse. Al Capone would have been envious if he had seen it.  It had a big straight 8 engine which seemed about 6ft long. Don't remember where the car came from but Quitaque sticks in my mind.

The party # 2:
I don't remember if they were Merrills or kin to them, but they lived near the Caprock south of Quitaque and apparently went to school at Quitaque. Anyway they were to have a party and since no one had phones someone sent Barney Joe Martin a card inviting him to the party. Also the card said bring water gun. Barney Joe couldn't figure out why they wanted him to bring a water gun. He finally figured out it said bring Walter Gunn. Mary Alice Johnson who was a couple grades behind me kinda liked me and she wanted to go to the party but the only way she could go was if Arnold and Iva May went, so Daddy let me use the Buick  I went by and picked up the Johnsons and we proceeded to the party. As best I can remember it was kinda fun, we played things like spin the bottle, post office, etc..Wild games..ha On the way home to the Johnson's after the party I came to a curve in the road and not being familiar with that road, was going too fast to make the curve and wound up on a fence row high centered. It was a bitter cold night with a very strong north wind. It seemed we were 2 or 3 miles from the Johnson house so we started walking and cutting across some fields to shorten the trip.When we finally got there Arnold and I got their tractor to go pull the car out. First we had to put water in the tractor as I don't  remember any tractors or cars having anti-freeze and when it was cold you had to drain the radiators. We finally got water in it and it started, surprisingly. We than managed to go pull it off the fence row and I continued on home. Being in the car felt like hog heaven, as I don't think I have ever been so cold in my life.

Turkey: 
One nite Red Calvert and I started to Turkey in the Buick. Before we got there we had a flat. Apparently we were really up town with this car as it had a spare tire. One problem was it took two jacks to get it off the ground. Red had got a jack and was jacking the car up when I came with another jack. He wanted to know what that jack was for, I said it takes two to get if off the ground. Red found that to be very funny. We got the tire changed and were on our way. That’s about the last thing I remember about that car, don't know what ever happened to it. 

Pelal: 
This may be regressing a bit but may be somewhat humorous. Pelal's real name is J. A. Welch. Don't know if the JA stands for anything as he was always called JA or Pelal and his school picture is J.A. Welch. One afternoon there were a bunch of people at the Welch's. I'm guessing someone may have died and it could have been Mac McCathern. I think he may have been Mrs.Welch's dad but am not sure. I know he lived there, was older, had no teeth and chewed tobacco as most of the other adults did too. I can remember Daddy telling about the time he told Uncle Mac that he should get some false teeth and his answer was, aw, the money is worth more in a cow. Anyway back to the story. Arnold Johnson, Pelal and I were in the hay loft of the barn. Arnold and I were about 12 or 13 and Pelal was 15 or 16. Pelal decided that we should show our peckers (sometimes its hard to find something to do on a farm) and he said Arnold would go first. Arnold was kinda laughing, like me to keep from crying, and said just a minute and started backing up. There was about a 4ft square hole in the floor where you gained entrance to the loft which was 12ft high or so. Arnold in backing up stepped right in the hole and fell through. There was a Farmall tractor parked underneath and he fell on the big tire and bounced off onto the ground. Naturally he was all skinned up and bruised and bleeding some, but luckily nothing was broken. I can't imagine what kind of story we told when we got back to the house, but you can bet it wasn't whole, whole truth.

The swimming hole:
There was a swimming hole in a pasture which was northwest from our house, possibly in Ikey Gilberts place, seems like it was a couple of miles from our house. Can't remember but think we lived at the Moore place and one day Curtis McGon came by and we walked to the swimming hole. It apparently was fed from a natural spring as it always was full of water and was well over your head on the far bank side. When we got there I went to the far bank and jumped in and was treading water. Curtis couldn't swim but assumed it wasn't over his head and he jumped in. When he tried to stand up he went under and when he came up he had stark terror on his face. I quickly got behind him and started shoving him towards the bank and we finally made it and he crawled out spitting up water. I never thought about it but now realize I'm lucky that he didn't get ahold of me and drown both of us. I did learn a  lesson as to make sure someone can swim before jumping into deep water. 

The Football game: 
It was the last game of the year and we played Turkey in Turkey. Both teams were undefeated so naturally the winner would be the District champion. As Turkey had lights it was a Friday nite game. That nite the weather was miserable, the wind was blowing from the north about 25mph and was sleeting with temp in the upper twenties. We played and played and no one could score, but somewhere in the 4th quarter they punted and the ball went into the end zone. I picked it up and just barely got out of the end zone thinking it would be a safety if I didn't, didn't know much about the rules, but the ref said you can't run a punt from the end zone and put the ball on the twenty. We almost scored when Frank Fisher got loose and made a long run but they caught him about the 10 yard line and he fumbled when he fell and Turkey got the ball. The game then ended in a nothing-nothing tie. That was the end of my fabulous high school career. Ha  

 The track meet: 
Flomot was the host for the annual track meet. For some reason they never had a three school meet, just the one District meet. Therefore you did all that training for just one day. Anyway our Superintendent, Mr Tate was a big track and sports fan. He had everyone in the study hall the day before the meet and he was on the stage leading cheers. Since I was so little and slow there wasn't much that I was good at. I was entered in the mile and pull-ups but the mile was just a token appearance as Cecil Reed was eons ahead of everyone else. During the run my side was hurting and I never finished, I was about half a mile behind anyway. Cecil won it easily. To cap this off, there was no school even close to Flomot in points won. I did win 1st in pull-ups, Paul Cruse won the 100 and 220, Garland Cavitt was 2nd in the 100, Barney Joe won the discus, Paul, Cavitt, Bill Dean and Doyle Calvert won the 440 relay. Doyle for the day was 1st in 440 relay, high-jump, broad-jump, shot put and was 3rd in the 220 yard dash, which was probably enough points to beat the closest school. Can't remember who else won something but am sure they did. Think Red Calvert was 2nd in pull ups.

Graduation:
 Don't seem like it was that exciting, it was a foregone conclusion that Walter Speer would be Valedictorian, Nita Martin and Ava Nell would be second and third.  I did finish 4th and had to make a short speech, but what I remember most was them giving out awards to kids in other grades for various things. Wasn't too surprised when they called out awards ( you had to go on stage to get them) for Sister, Peg and Tootie as they probably led their class, but then they called out my name and I wondered what to hey could that be about. It was for setting the school record in typing, of all things, which I think Sister broke the next year. Then to cap it off they called Dink's name and someone said how many more of those Gunns are there. Have no idea what Dink's award was for.

The Senior Trip: 
Nothing real exciting about the trip either. Before we left I asked Daddy if I could have some money and he gave me $25.00 and told me bring back what was left. We went on the school bus to San Antonio and about all I can remember was going to the Zoo and Mark Clay bought an alligator. He was a young one, about 2 foot long counting tail and all. Some of us boys slept on the bus at nite and remember one morning  waking up and the alligator was running loose on the bus but that didn't bother us. If our two girls had been there it may have been a different  story. Don't remember how long we were gone, probably about three days. When we got back I think I had $5.00 left which I gave to Daddy. He made some comment about getting back with a meager amount of money. Oh well, the last of the big spenders.

The cotton gin: 1948.
After graduation I continued to drive tractors as I had for several years. Come fall I was pulling bolls when Riley Turner encouraged me to try for a job at the gin. I didn't give myself much of a chance but went and talked to Putt Gilbert, one of the gin owners with Lem Brock, and he hired me.  Needless to say I was tickled to death to get out of the cotton patch and into the gin. They paid us $.75 and hour which was good compared to driving tractors for what was around $ .50 an hour or less. I had been there about 3 days and there was a lull while waiting on more cotton to come in. We were just standing around and LaJune Turner said we weren't making enough money and he was going to hit Lem up for a raise. I thought oh no, just getting started making that good money and more important out of the cotton patch, now I may lose my job. When Lem come up LaJune said hey, we need a raise. All Lem said was bullshit and walked off. Then we saw him driving over to the other gin. He came back in a little while and said we would get $1.00 an hour. Needless to say I was more than a little bit elated.

 Mitch 1949...
Due to plenty of rain that year everybody made a bumper crop so by the end of Sept the gin was running 24 hours a day  They hired some guy named Mitchell to help with the ginning. I think he had came from the Valley. I started out the 1st year as kinda a general flunky and helped Riley run the suction some. I had advanced to running the press by 1949 along with Riley. One day I heard Mitch holler and I started to the gin stands to see what was up. I met him heading for the door. I said what's the matter Mitch and he said I cut my GD fingers off, and blood was just squirting from his hand. Putt took him to Matador and they fixed him up. He had cut off parts of 3 fingers. He was back ginning in a few days.

The burr machine. 1949:
One day a cotton separator got choked up and threw a belt. When something got choked up you left the gin running and took a 36 inch Stilson wrench to turn the augers and get it un-choked. To get to the  separator you went up a short ladder to a platform, then climbed on the burr machine and on up to the separator. I grabbed the 36 inch Stilson and started up. When  I stepped on the burr machine the lid wasn't fastened down and it went sailing. My right leg along with the wrench went in the burr machine. Inside was an auger, a spiral conveyer which had steel prongs about six inches long, a big drum saw, etc. With the wrench getting hit by all the above it was making the damdest racket you ever heard and of course was hitting my foot and leg. Just in the second or two that I had to think about it I thought there was no way to get out without at least losing my foot. If I could have some way  made a trade, my leg for my life I would have made the deal. Anyway  my left leg was on the outside of the machine and I flipped backwards and my leg came out. I remember standing there looking down at my foot and the brogan shoe was pretty well chewed up but foot was still there. I was surely the happiest kid in the world at that time, and I remember my exacts words were. "Well the SOB is still on, ain't it." Putt took me to the doctor at Matador. It had cracked my big toe and beat the toe nail off. I was off work a few days and when I went back they put me to ginning.

Riley Turner. 1949 :
Riley had also started ginning and we were working together one Sat nite. I had gone back to the engine room when I heard Riley holler. When I went back to the stands he was going out the front door. I then saw blood around one gin stand that he had taken out of service and I knew he had got in the saws trying to get a cotton wad loose. His brother Malcomb was running the press that nite and he took Riley to Matador where the doctor took his arm off above the wrist. I can't imagine how much that must have hurt while making that trip to Matador.        

Gin..1950:
.Putt and Lem had sold the gin to a guy named Maurice Goodwin. I think he lived around Spur. He hired me to be the ginner and I got Wesley Cagle and Buddy Riddle to help me overhaul the gin prior to boll pulling time. Can't remember who all I hired to work there during the fall but know some were in their forties or so. Often wondered how they felt about taking orders from me as I was only 19. Never had a problem though.  Uncle Sam called right after that season so that ended my ginning career.

Mitch:
 A humorous side story about my gin accident. As mentioned before Mitchell was hired to help out in the ginning as a bumper crop was made in 1949 and the gin was running 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Mitch lived in a small room in back of the gin office. When I fell into the burr machine, Mitch was behind me. After getting out I headed for the office so someone could take me to Matador. I noticed that the gin was slowing down when I went out the door. I thought that's odd, as you leave the gin running when unclogging a choke-up. That was about 2 or 3 p.m. After the doc worked on my foot he sent me home with some crutches and said stay off the foot for a couple weeks. Anyway the next morning around 10 a.m. I went to the gin office, and Mitch came stumbling out of his room, drunk as old Cooter Brown. He was shaving and had one side shaved and shaving cream on the other. He came up to me babbling that he thought I was a goner and almost crying. Turns out when I fell into the burr machine he thought I couldn't get out and he ran through the gin and threw the clutch to stop it. He then was so scared and shook up he went to his room and got drunk and therefore was still drunk the next morning.

The 1949 Ford pickup:
Ben and Riley had bought a new pickup  One Sunday morning Ervin Merritt and I were at Ben's service station. For some reason Ervin and I went to his house (he lived with Tommy Bynum and wife) in the pickup. Tommy and wife weren't at home so Ervin helped himself to Tommy's whiskey.  We had several drinks, a few too many, then headed back to the station. The road came around Tommy's house, made a turn or too, then down this road that had a small bridge over a dry creek bed. I was driving and Ervin was saying give her hell, I think I had it in second and near floor-boarded. By the time I made all the turns it was pretty much out of control and I completely missed the bridge, plunging off into the dry creek. We had to get Tommy's tractor to pull it out. About the only damage was a cracked windshield where my head hit it. Guess I was lucky, don't remember any major damage to my head.

The 1950 Pontiac:
Riley and Ben then bought a 1950 Pontiac. One night Ben and I went to Quitaque and when we started home he jumped into the back seat and laid down which left me to drive.  There was an old wooden bridge over the Pease River. It had two iron rails to drive on. It had a flimsy wood bannister that wouldn't have stopped a tricycle, with a post about every 15 or 20 feet. When I pulled onto the bridge my wheels were spinning due to a heavy frost on the iron rails. I then drove on the wood and it was ok. About half way across I decided to get back on the iron rails but when I did it slid and headed for the wood railing. Luckily the right front fender hit one of the posts which kept it from going over. The back end slid around and hit another post with the back left fender. Ben raised up and said what to hell is going on. I said oh a little bridge problem. All in all we were very lucky.
                                               

The 1950 Ford:
Ervin Merritt had bought a new 1950 Ford car. One day we went to Plainview in his car, can’t imagine why we went to Plainview, don’t think we knew anyone there. Anyway on the way back to Flomot I was driving and we were going about 80 mph and I passed a farmer on his tractor.  About a quarter mile past him we had a blowout on the right rear tire. The car headed into the right barditch and slid sideways, then shot across the road and slid down the barditch, then came back on the road where it finally stopped. Neither one of us said a word, just jumped out, were getting the spare tire and jack from the trunk and the farmer came up on his tractor. He was so scared he was shaking and could hardly talk, said he thought we were goners. I think Ervin and I had had a few drinks and didn’t think anything of it, just in another day’s work. Now I get to thinking that, in about 15 minutes we would have been going down the Caprock and that could have been disastrous.

Pelal (again):
 One night I was at Ben Turner’s station and Pelal drove up in his truck. He wasn’t much of a beer drinker but liked Calvert’s Reserve Bourbon, and he had been drinking some of same, maybe a lot of same. After a few more drinks we decided we’d go to Quitaque. There was about six inches of snow on the ground and it was real cold and the snow was frozen on top. Anyway, we took off to Quitaque in my ‘46 Plymouth. We were somewhere around gasoline when Pelal reached over and pulled on the choke. It had the old manual choke, and it must have broke loose at the carburetor, as he kept pulling. He pulled until it was all the way over the back seat. I think the deal was that he was trying to turn on the heater and got the choke by mistake. Anyway I pretended to be mad, so I stopped the car and told him we would finish this outside. He knew I wasn’t mad, but like two idiots, we got out of the car and tangled. He was quite a bit bigger than me, as that was before I went into the service and only weighed 149 pounds then. Somehow I managed to throw him and he hit face down in the frozen snow and it skinned his face from forehead to his chin. We got back in the car laughing and went on to Quitaque. As we went to leave, there were no fools on the streets but us, which were iced over, we decided to make some figure eights, which we did. Unfortunately we did one a little too good and hit the curb, so had bent in my left rear wheel. We just put on the spare and went on. Pelal lived at home with his mother at that time. Can’t imagine what he told her about his face. (Boys will be boys.)
                               
The 1951 Oldsmobile:
Riley and Ben had bought a new Olds and it had what they called a rocket 88 V8 motor. It would really fly compared to other cars. One Sunday morning several of us were riding around and I was driving. Why was I always driving? We went east of Flomot and then towards Turkey. We were going about 90 mph when the right front tire blew out. Oddly enough, I was able to control it and stopped ok. I would have thought a blowout on the front would be worse than the back, but in Ervin’s car it was strictly out of control.

Tulia Rodeo: 
One Sunday afternoon, may have been the 4th of July, Wesley Cagle and I went to a rodeo in Tulia. Sometime during the Rodeo we decided we needed to go tt. There was a barn behind the arena that was the other side of a fence, so that's where we headed. Prior to the fence was a Ford tractor so Wesley stopped there and I went over the fence to the barn. After doing my thing I headed back across the fence and lo and behold a Deputy Sheriff or some sort of a law man was talking toWesley by the Ford tractor. He seemed to be a kinda young chicken s... and gave Wesley a ticket for urinating in public and told Wesley he would have to come back tomorrow and see the Judge. Monday morning we drove back to Tulia to see the Judge.The officer was also present.The Judge then read the charge: Wesley Cagle did on the 4th day of July,1950, take something private from his pants and make water in broad daylight in public.Do you plead guilty or not guilty. Before he could answer the hot-shot Deputy said, Judge there was a porta potty near by and a barn he could have went to. Wesley said he didn't see the porta potty and if he went to the barn someone might think he was slipping into rodeo as you have to climb over the fence. The Judge said well if you've gotta go you gotta go, just don't do it again, case dismissed. The Deputy, who apparently didn't have a lick of common sense, was really displeased, guess he thought he would get at least life without parole. I had a hard time to keep from laughing out loud.

The tractor and the bridge: 
The summer of 1950 I was driving a tractor for Quinn Martin. He farmed 3 or 4 places with one being on the Caprock and one towards Crable Jones' place. One day plowing on the place near Crable’s, a plow or something broke so I headed for town to get it fixed at the blacksmith shop.  Somewhere in route there was a dry river you had to cross. Can't remember now what river it was and exactly where. Anyway coming to the bridge there was a rather steep hill to go down. I decided if I kicked it out of gear I could go down the hill faster. By the time I got to the bridge it was going pretty fast, so I was holding the steering wheel tight and concentrating on hitting the bridge in the center.What I didn't take into account was the four- row toolbar on the M Farmall. The left side of the toolbar hit the bridge bannister and swung the front of the tractor into the bannister. Luckily it stopped there as it could have easily gone over the side. Also lucky it didn't break any thing else. (another close call)

Quinn Martin: 
As mentioned above I drove a tractor for him the summer of 1950. I thought Quinn was a rather cool guy. He was probably 5 or 6 years older than me and was in the army in WWII. He was single and seems like the ladies were kinda after him. He had an older brother named Norman, a sister and a younger brother whose name I can't remember. When I was in the 4th grade Mr Martin was backing his truck out of the drive way. I believe it was a bigger flat bed truck The youngest boy was either in my grade or the 3rd. He ran and tried to jump in the back of the truck and fell. Mr. Martin, unaware of the situation, backed over him and it killed him. Later on, maybe about the time I was working for Quinn, Norman got broadsided in (I think) Floydada but it could have been Lockney. Anyway he was killed in the accident. Then when I was in the service, Quinn was killed by going off the Caprock. Theory was he went to sleep. Quinn and his dad lived in Matador and I spent the night there one time as I had to road the tractor to the Plains. Due to the heat, Quinn and I slept on the grass in the front yard. I remember Mr. Martin was drinking some whiskey and I think he was still bothered about running over his youngest son. Can't imagine how hard it was on him losing both Norman and Quinn.
                                       
Bronc riding:
Somehow, Red Calvert, Buddy Riddle and myself got interested in riding bareback broncs. Someone had bought a bareback rigging and Waynie Martin had a horse that wasn't broke so I was going to give it a try. It took off bucking right towards a barb wire fence. When it got to the fence it made a sharp turn to the left and I started to fall off right into the fence. I thought here we go, my first ride and I'm going to get cut up in the fence.  Somehow I dug my spur into his side and held on until I could get on top. I then rode him until he stopped bucking. I rode a few more horses here and there and decided I was pretty good. Ha

The Silverton Rodeo:
I decided I was ready for the big time and entered the Rodeo at Silverton. I suppose I was a little nervous when I rode the other horses but when I was on the chute over my horse I was nearly petrified as I knew there would be lots of people there that knew me and I didn't want to make a fool of myself. Anyway I've never had butter flies like that before or since.When they opened the gate the horse bucked straight down the arena and my hat flew off about half way down. I rode him to the whistle and jumped off. I started back up the arena to get my hat and feeling about 9 feet tall, real proud of myself. I remember Putt Gilbert yelled, “Hey Gunn, where’s your hat?” I said, “Beats the hell out of me.” The next nite I drew a bad horse to ride and he threw me real quick, somewhat breaking my bubble.

The Dripping Springs Rodeo:
I had bought this mare that had never been broke. Apparently Daddy broke her after I got in the service, and someone named her Sugar. This mare could really buck and was hard to ride. I think I finally rode her once. When they had the annual rodeo at the Old Settlers Reunion they wanted to know if they could use her in the rodeo and I said OK. I entered the rodeo and ironically at the drawing I drew her but thought someone might complain so I got another horse. Sugar threw her rider off real quick. They announced that the horse belonged to me. I then came out on my horse and he was real hard to ride. At one time I was almost off but managed to get back up. I remember when we got to the far end of the arena he came to the fence, a wooden one. There were some guys hanging on the outside of the fence and I jumped off onto the fence and I wasn't about two feet from these guys. I said, “I think I'll get off right here.” After that I went into the service and that ended my rodeo days.            
Calvin Monk:
 I didn't run around with Calvin much but when I did the outcome was somewhat less than perfect. He was a year ahead of me and usually ran around with Wesley Cagle.

Episode # 1: 
One Sunday, Calvin, Wesley Cagle and I were in Turkey in Calvin's car. He had a one seater but don't remember what kind it was. We had been drinking some that day and apparently Calvin had more than his share and was driving like a maniac. We were going east towards what I think they called the hill top. He got in the middle of the road and run 3 or 4 cars off the road, the last one being a PU. It scared Wesley so he begged Calvin to stop and let him drive. Calvin stopped and Wesley got out and went around and got in to drive. I slid over by the door and Calvin slid over in the middle. Before Wesley could take off the PU came back and stopped in front of us. It was a man, his wife and about a 12 year old boy. The guy got out and he was a big cowboy about six foot four and a big black hat. He was very, very mad as he should  have been. He didn't know that Wesley wasn't driving and said you SOB you could have killed my wife and son. He grabbed Wesley by the shirt and almost pulled him through the window. Wesley said, “Mister I wasn't driving.” He said “Who the hell was?” Calvin said “By G. I was.” He then grabbed Calvin and almost pulled him out the window over Wesley.Wesley and I explained that Calvin wasn't driving anymore and we were going home, so he let us go. When we got back to Flomot Wesley had had all the fun he wanted and went home. Calvin said “There is the old man's truck, lets see how it runs.” We got in and were somewhere towards Tommy Bynum’s house when we went around a curve and turned over on the drivers side. He apparently stuck his hand out when it went over. Guess he was gonna hold it up. Anyway the PU is laying on its side and I'm laying on Calvin. He said “Gunn, I've broke my GD hand.” I had left my car in downtown Flomot, somewhere by 5th and Main. We walked to town and I took him to the hospital in Matador to check his hand. The first people we ran into were James and Mrs. Monk who were there visiting someone. Calvin was standing there with his hand all swollen and skinned up and said “I turned your truck over, we were just wheeling and dealing."  He must have said we were " just wheeling and dealing " three or four times. Mr Monk just looked at him in disgust. I stood in the corner keeping quiet and hoping Calvin would shut up. Turned out his hand wasn't broke, just bruised bad.

Episode # 2: 
One day I was in Flomot and Calvin said “Lets run up the way for awhile.” I said “OK,” not knowing exactly what “up the way” meant. Turned out he was talking about Amarillo to get some beer. There was nowhere to buy beer except bootleggers and Amarillo was the nearest place. We got to Amarillo and started making some bars, some not much more than dives, and drinking beer. Somewhere around mid-nite Calvin passed out. He still had the one seater car and he was laying half in the floor board and half in the seat and I headed for Flomot. Some time the muffler pipe had come loose at the manifold and was about as loud as an airplane and was dragging on the pavement. As if that wasn't enough, the generator quit working. I stopped at a service station to make sure I was on the right road, as that may have been my first time in Amarillo. He assured me that I was on the right road  He then said, ‘There is a woman and two young kids down the road a-ways that’s hitch-hiking". Said, "She is a pretty good looking woman". Sure enough they were a-ways down on the side of the road. I stopped and she said they were going, I think to Plainview,  and I told her where we were going and I could take her as far as Silverton if that would help, also explained that my friend had too much to drink and was asleep.She agreed they would go as far as Silverton. She put the two young boys on the shelf behind the seat and she somehow squeezed in the seat with Calvin and we headed out. The lights keep getting dimmer as the generator wasn't working, The motor was so loud you could barely hear and the muffler dragging. We finally got to Silverton, I gave her a little hug and they got out, hope they made it where they were going. It was probably 3:30AM by then. Before I got to Quitaque I had no lights at all and when I got in Quitaqe it quit running. Seems like it was about 4:30AM by then. During all that Calvin never woke up. Don't remember how we got to Flomot. Oh well, another day at the office.                           
Cowboy Tiffin: 
Cowboy and Wife, don't remember her name, lived on a farm somewhere between Flomot and Quitaque. I know it was north of the river.  Cowboy was about 35, which seemed old at the time and his wife was younger, maybe 25 and about 3 times better looking. They had a weekly dance at Silverton and several of us went every Sat nite including Cowboy and wife  As she was very pretty and kinda flirty most of us followed her kinda like a bunch of dogs and of course danced with her. One nite Buddy Riddle and I were at their house and a young kid about 16 was visiting with them. He was kinda a smart alec and talked about how good he could ride. We had a bucking barrel set up in Putt Gilbert’s shelter belt. We bet him our pants against his that he couldn't ride the barrel, like 2 or 3 jumps. He accepted. We drove all the way to the barrel and let him try. Of course we bucked him off right away and made him take his pants off. When we got back to Cowboy’s without any pants, Lovely (I'll call her Lovely since I can't think of her name) took him a dress to the car and he put it on and came into the house wearing it. It was kinda a mean trick but what the hey, he was a smart-alec.

Twin Calves: 
Cowboy and Lovely had a Herford cow that had twin calves.One nite at the dance we were talking about the cow and calves and I asked him if he would sell them. He said I would have to ask Lovely as it was her cow. I assume we had many drinks by that time, as a matter of fact I would bet on it. Anyway he probably thought she wouldn't sell the cow. I asked her about it and she said she would take $200.00 for them and I said its a deal. I believe it was Monday, Daddy and I went to their place and got the cow and calves. I paid her the money and we were on our way.  Cowboy wasn't home at the time. In a day or two Buddy said Cowboy came to Flomot and was very mad and upset and wanted to know where Walter Gunn lived. Buddy said I don't know. He got into the truck with Cowboy and let him vent off some of his anger, which included bad-mouthing his wife. Buddy said after he let off some steam he settled down. Buddy thinks he was more mad at Lovely about something. Soon after that they split up. Don't know if I ever saw Cowboy again, as I soon went into the service.

The Draft: 
In the summer of 1950 the Korean Conflict was getting into full tilt and people from 18 to maybe 25 had to register for the draft. Buddy, Wesley Cagle and I were working at the cotton gin. When you registered, if you had some kind of medical problem or maybe married with children you would be classified as 4F and if you had no problems you would be 1A. We would make remarks that we couldn't go because we had back trouble, "it has a yellow streak down it."  Waynie Martin, who was kinda short and fat and very non-athletic, said he wouldn't be 1A because he had flat feet. When he went to register we asked him what the doctor said. Waynie said the doc said, "Your toes and heels don't touch the floor." He was, of course, classified as 4F, the rest of us were all 1A.   

Red Calvert:
One morning Red and I were riding around in his 3/4-ton Chev PU. Seems that Red had a bottle of whiskey and we were sampling it. I think we went to Turkey and later to Quitaque. Sometime around noon, apparently Red had sampled to much whiskey and he passed out. I drove out west of Quitaque and on the right was a small roadside park in what was sort of  a valley. Two boys from Quitaque came out there on their lunch break. Can't imagine why Red and I weren't working as it was during the week. Anyway the boys had a motorcycle and there was a bank about ten foot or so high from the park up to the road. They would get down in the park and make a run at the bank and go up it. After they did that a few times I said do you think I can go up it in the PU. Of course they said no. Like an idiot I said watch me, I backed off and made a run at it and up the bank I shot and went into the air when it went over the top. When it hit the ground in seemed like it bounced 3 ft high. Red was jostled around pretty good but he just mumbled a little and never woke up. Luckily it didn't break anything. Don't know if  Red ever knew what we did., guess I didn't want him to know how stupid I was.

New Years Eve:
It was New Years Eve1950 and Wesley Cagle and I were invited to a party there in Flomot. I can't remember who it was but they had a nice house, seems like maybe the best in Flomot. Seems like the house may have been back towards Tommy Bynum's place. I was with a girl from Silverton whose name I can't remember and Wesley was with Punk Welch  Seems like we had a good time at the party and they were playing records and Faded Love by Bob Wills was popular and they played that record several times. When it was over we took the girl I was with back to Silverton and then took Punk home. When we left Silverton I jumped into the back seat, we were in Wesley's 46 red Mercury and my car was parked in Flomot. I woke up about 430 or 500AM, it was cold, damp and dark and I couldn't imagine where I was. After about 30 minutes I realized I was still in Wesley's car. He was supposed to let me out in Flomot at my car. I thought well, that SOB was too lazy to stop at my car.  Actually he forgot I was in the back seat, maybe Punk had him in a trance. When I finally figured out we were at Cagle's house I drove his car to our house. Wesley wakes up the next morning and overhears Nathan asking his mom if he had come in last nite. She said yes he's in bed and Nathan says his car is not here. Wesley says he eased over to the door and looked out and sure enough no car. He can't imagine what happened as he was sure he drove it home. He finally figured out that I was still in the back seat and must have drove it home. The Cagles probably thought boys will be boys.  

Jeff Sperry:
Jeff and his family lived nearby on Putt Gilberts farm. I don't remember how many kids they had, but know Junior and Elbert Ray were a year or so younger than me. Jeff was funny, cussed a lot and was about the workingest man I ever knew and Carl Marler was the laziest I ever knew. Jeff was talking about working at the cotton gin and was talking about ginning out of the cotton house. What we called the cotton house was storage bins apx 12x12 and maybe 20ft high.When farmers wanted to catch several bales of seed for planting we would gin all their cotton at once. It was the worst job in ginning as the cotton was packed in the bins and had collected dirt, dust, etc. There was just one small door for each bin and you had to dig the cotton out with a pitch fork and feed it into a suction that was under the hall. You would keep digging until the top part collapsed and you had to hurry and get out the door to keep from getting buried. Anyway Jeff and Carl Marler were assigned to get the cotton out. Jeff said he was digging as hard as he could, it was 125 degrees, dust and dirt fogging so he could barely see, and the ginner was raking on the wall for more cotton and Carl was just standing there. Finally Carl said what do you want me to do? Jeff said stay out of my GD way. When he got through he went to Putt and said I quit or you fire that SOB. Putt fired the sob. The way he told it, it was hilarious.

Another time Jeff was telling about, he and Putt were going to oil a windmill. Naturally Putt wasn't going to oil anything, just supervise. You had to climb the windmill and pour the oil in a reservoir. It was an old rickety wooden windmill and Jeff said a lot of the boards he had to climb up were missing and the ones left were all rotten. He had a bucket of oil and had made it almost the top when one of the rungs broke. He said he fell to the next one, grabbed it and it broke and fell on to the next one, same story. Meanwhile Putt was standing on the ground hollering don't spill the oil.  Jeff finally made it to the ground without breaking his neck and said he was so mad he was shaking and told Putt you SOB, I'm falling, about to kill myself and all you can worry about is the dam oil. Putt said, well you were falling anyway so I thought you might as well save the oil. Jeff said after he cooled off a little and thought about it, that was kinda funny. It sure was funny the way he told it. 

The Tooth: 
This is  regressing some but am in the process of having a partial made for my front upper teeth and some of it is related to an incident there at Skinner's place. I was about 13 or 14 and we had our beds in the yard, as it was mid-summer and very hot. My bed had a broken rail that the slats sit on and if you sat down very had on the bed the rail would come loose. One day I ran across the yard and dove across the bed. When I did the rail came loose, flew up and hit me in the mouth, numbing my face and breaking a front tooth off. Momma sent a post card to the dentist in Turkey, seems like it may have been a Dr. Johnson. Anyway he wrote back with an appointment. He deadened my mouth, supposedly, I didn't know it was supposed to hurt when you pulled a tooth. Anyway he was trying to pull it and it was the worst pain I've every had. I reached for his arm but the pliers slipped off, then on the next try it came out. I thought boy, this dental work isn't much fun.    

Alfred Martin:
Alfred seemed like an older guy compared to me and my cronies. He was probably in his forties, about where I'd like to be now. Anyway Alfred was a friendly guy with a good personality. His normal greeting was HEEELOO  COOOWBOY with a big grin. He farmed and ranched around Flomot but lived in town, if you could call Flomot a town. I ran into him one Sunday there in Flomot and he said his family was out of town for a few days, why don't we go to his house and have a drink. OK by me. We went to his house and he had a bottle of whiskey of some kind and we sat at his dining room table and commenced to have a drink. It was probably around 4:30 or 5:00 pm. The more we drank the smarter we got, etc. He bragged some on our family, probably not me but think I remember Tootie in particular. Seems he may have had a daughter about her age.  Finally it got dark and were still at the dining room table having a few and still getting smarter and better looking. I didn't think he was drunk at the time. He said he was going out to the garage to get something. They had a detached garage the best I can remember. I sat there and waited for him to come back and waited some more and finally decided to go and see what he was up to. I went out the kitchen door into the yard and there he lay passed out. I went into the house, got a blanket and covered him up. Don't remember if I ever saw him again, as I may have been on furlough at the time.

The Credit Card: 
In the summer of 1950 the Korean Conflict was in full bloom. As mentioned before we had registered for the draft and were classified as 1A. Ben Turner and I decided we had better volunteer for the Air Force before we were drafted into the army. We went the recruiting office in Plainview to sign up. About everyone else had the same idea and there was a deluge of people trying to get into the Air Force or Navy. He said there was a waiting list and he would put us on it. He was able to send 2 or 3 a day. Periodically we would check on our status and were moving up the list, but slowly. Finally about Jan 15, we got our notice to report for the Army Jan 23. As the 23rd  got closer we were still a ways from the top. Ben and Riley ran a Gulf service station there in Plainview. Apparently credit cards were few and far between in those days. Now you throw them in the trash daily where you can get $10,000.00 in cash, low interest, etc. The only credit cards I had ever heard of was Gulf and maybe Texaco.  Anyway the recruiting sergeant wanted a Gulf credit card and Ben said he would help him get one if he could get us into the AF. The recruiter said OK and he put us ahead of the other people and said to be in Plainview the 21st to go to Amarillo (two days before having to report for the Army). The day before we left there was some news on the radio about the war and Momma asked when I would have to go. I said I'm leaving in the morning..

The Air Force:
On Jan, 21st, 1950 Ben Turner and I reported to the recruiting office in Plainview and he put us on a bus to Amarillo, two days before we were supposed to report to the Army, to have a physical and be sworn in. There were some guys there that figured out that they were ahead of us on the AF list, and they were peeved, to say the least. At Amarillo, unlike Waynie Martin whose toes and heels didn't touch the floor, we passed our physical and were sworn in. Can't remember for sure but think they sent us to San Antonio on a train. Upon arrival at Lackland AFB we discovered that San Antonio had just had the worst winter storm in like eighty years and there was about four inches of snow on the ground and very cold. Furthermore due to a deluge of people getting into the AF there were no empty barracks. They had put up temporary tents to house us.  The tents had no lights, no heat, no water, no bath room, no nothing. We each had a bunk and like a sleeping bag which was referred to as a fart sack. It was so cold and damp we slept in all our clothes trying to keep warm. The latrine was some ways away in a building. It had about ten commodes lined up in a row with no stalls and a shower where eight or so could shower at one time. Modesty was kinda out the window and I first heard the saying, "Don't drop the soap!!!"  They would get us up at 5:00 a.m. and fall out in formation for roll call. Some of the guys were homesick, depressed, cold, scared, or forlorn and all the above. One morning we were having roll call, it was pitch dark and cold and a young kid, seemed young to me, from California who appeared to come from a well-to-do family, but seemed like a sissy to me, was mumbling and almost crying, said, "If I knew it would be like this I wouldn't have joined." After roll call we would go to chow, then have various orientations to go through, lecture, films, getting shots, getting our uniforms, etc. Due to the influx of people, they were running short of uniforms. I got a pair of fatigues, but no boots or cap. I  wore my cowboy boots about five days before I got my military boots. In the mean time I was telling Ben that we had it made, weren't doing any work, had plenty to eat and the only marching we did was going to the different places for orientation, etc. One day we were marching down a road and came to an intersection and someone hollered at us. I looked over and it was Louise Lee, of all people. Have no idea why she was there and guess I never saw her again. We were then told that we would be going to Sheppard AFB in Wichita Falls for our basic training. We were all excited about going and getting out of the tents. The day before we were to leave I got very sick, but I didn't want to go on sick call as I probably wouldn't get to leave with our bunch. Finally about 1:00 p.m. I didn't think I could make it any further so I went to the tent and laid down on my bunk. Later a sergeant came in and wanted to know what I was doing there. I told him I was sick and he could probably tell the same. He said be sure and go to sick call in the a.m. The next morning I wasn't about to go on sick call and they put us on a bus to Wichita Falls.   

Sheppard AFB:
We arrived at Sheppard in Wichita Falls, TX around the first of Feb. We went through 6 or 8 weeks of basic training which didn't amount to much. We did some marching, a little rifle training, etc. Had to pull KP, kitchen police, some. This wasn't a lot of fun as you had to get there about 5 a.m. and didn't get off until around 8 p.m., after everyone was fed and pots and pans washed. Made for a long day, but I guess it wasn't as bad as working at the cotton gin for 24 hours several times, 36 a time or two and my record of 43 straight, and that was when I was on leave, of all things.

The 10 mile hike: 
Suppose the worst thing of basic was the 10 mile hike, which every one was dreading, but can't imagine it could be much worse than hoeing cotton 10 hours a day. Anyway, come hike day I was sick. The word was if you missed the hike you couldn't graduate with your group.When someone got sick they went on sick call and 90% of them wasn't sick, just trying to get out of training. Being as the docs were aware of it and they would give those a goof off slip for one day and if  they thought you were actually sick would give you a slip for three days. We used another word for goof-off. I really wanted to make the hike as I wanted to finish with my group and hoped that Ben Turner and I would be sent to the same school.  I debated about going but decided I couldn't make it so I went on sick call. At sick call there was a big room with a few or no chairs. Everyone sat on the floor until they looked at you. You were there two hours or so before they checked you. They finally come by and stuck a thermometer in everyone's mouth. The medic then came by and was reading everyone's temperature. When he read mine he asked how do you feel?  I said not so good. Apparently he thought I said not so bad. He looked at me a little, then said come with me. He took me into the doc's office and told him my temperature is 104.8 but says he don't feel too bad. The doc says you don't  feel  bad?  I said I don't feel worth a s---.  He ordered me an ambulance and they took me straight to the hospital and immediately gave me a bath in alcohol and ice. I stayed there about 3 days then felt fine.  They never said a word about me missing the 10 mile hike. 

Cotton Ward: 
Cotton was in basic training with us and came from Oglesby, Tx, which is near McGregor which is near Waco. Cotton was a white headed guy, thus the name Cotton, had a very slow drawl, had a dry sense of humor and was a very good steel guitar player. After basic training they assigned
us to schools. Ben was going to a mechanics school for Jet Aircrafts. Cotton and I were assigned to a radio operators school in Biloxi Miss at Keesler AFB. They put us on a train to Mississippi.  
 
The train ride: 
We left Wichita Falls late one afternoon on a troop train. We apparently stopped some along the way to pick up more troops as we didn't arrive in Biloxi until some time the next day. The trip was ok as we each had a bunk sleeper. Some way or another Cotton and I had a bottle of whiskey which made our ride more enjoyable. In the service everyone likes to brag on their state and downgrade the other states, especially Texas, as all they had seen was San Antonio during the worst storm in some 80 years and Wichita Falls in the dead of winter, cold, barren, desolate, windy with not a green sprig in sight. Frenchy was a Cajun from New Iberia, LA and was always telling us how great Louisiana was. The next morning we were all woke up by Frenchy yelling for everyone to look out the window, stating we are in God's country, we're in Louisiana. Looking out it was pretty and green, with big pine and other trees. About that time we came to a sign saying Beaumont, Texas. We then proceeded to give Frenchy hell. We arrived later that day in Biloxi, and Cotton and I were astounded at how pretty it was, big trees, everything nice and green and on the ocean. As we had never been anywhere to speak of, we decided in was akin to paradise.

Radio Operator School: 
They assigned us to evening classes which was six hours a day for six days.Our main objective was to learn International Morse Code along with typing, basic electronic theories, how to operate receivers and transmitters and a few other minor things.

Morse Code:
Our first goal was to learn the Phonetic Alphabet such as Abel, Baker, Charlie, etc., then each character in basic code. We were all in a room and they were transmitting the code at 4 words per minute which was very slow, so slow you count the dots and dashes. The very first thing that they preached to us was "do not under any circumstance try to count the dots and dashes" as when it get faster that would be impossible. They also said it didn't matter how smart or dumb you were, some people could get it and some couldn't. This was not good news because if you washed out of school they then made you a cook or some other unwanted job. To pass the school you had to pass 20 wpm. After you passed 4 you went to a room that transmitted 6, then to 8, etc until you reached the room with 20. About half of the room had left to 6 when I passed 4, then the room was about half full when I passed 6. In 8 I was having trouble and people kept leaving for10, finally they were almost all gone and I was getting worried. I finally passed when there was about three of us left. Then it started to come easier and I was the first one to pass 20.     

The Ice Cream: 
When I got in the AF Wesley Cagle had joined a month or so before Ben and I. He said he had listed his parents as dependents and the government was sending them a monthly check. Think his reasoning was that he was still living at home and Nathan had jake leg. (from drinking a homemade whiskey called Jake that partially paralyzed one leg). So therefore couldn't do the farming. I thought well, I'm living at home and Daddy was old, I thought, as he was 57. Now I would kill to be 57. Anyway I put them down as dependents and they started sending them monthly checks, and I'm thinking  man that was easy and I was still getting the same pay. However about six months later the bubble burst when they sent me a letter saying they didn't qualify as dependents and would pay me $10.00 a month until paid back. By about the middle of each month my big $10.00 dollars was gone. During our school breaks every one would get something to drink, chips, ice cream, etc, and I would just stand aside wishing I had some money. One time it was towards the end of the month and I hadn't had a penny in a couple of weeks when one day I received a dollar in the mail from the State. It was a refund for my drivers license, as if you were in the service your drivers license was free. I suddenly felt as rich as Bill Gates or Ross Perot and couldn't wait until our break to get something to eat or drink. At break I rushed up and got me an ice cream cone for a dime. I was eating it and thinking I was in hog heaven, later I realized I was in such a hurry I had left my 90 cents change at the ice cream stand. I was back to ground zero, broke and near tears.Oh well...

Phasing Out:
A term they used when you passed a course before the allotted time; you didn't have to attend that class anymore. Our classes were basic code, typing, basic electronics, how transmitters and receivers worked, etc. Most of the guys had never had typing in school and I had, so I phased out of that real quick.It was an hour course. Later I phased out of code when I passed 20 WPM and it was a two hour course. Therefore I was only going to school three hours a night which made things pretty easy. Was still broke though!!

The Night Out: 
One Sunday morning I was laying in bed and Cotton Ward came in, he lived in another barracks, and said lets go get drunk. I said man I couldn't buy the lid on the bottle. He said I've got money and pulled out a $20.00 bill which looked about like $20,000 to me. I said you have smoothed talked me into it. Think we got some beer and went out to a Lake. Cotton had a fairly new Ford car at the time. Later that day we went to a club called Gus Stevens which was down by the bay. It was pretty nice place with a restaurant on one side and a club on the other. The club had a floor show, some gambling tables, etc. Anyway when Cotton and I came out to leave the sun was up Monday morning. We didn't have school until 6 p.m. He started the car and a policeman walked over and said if you pull that car off the lot I'm going to throw both of you in Jail. He said go in there and get some coffee and sober up. We said good idea.

Touch Football: 
As we attended classes from 600 PM to 12 MDT Mon through Sat, there wasn't much to do to keep us in entertained. Frenchy and I would play two other guys touch football during the day between our barracks. This made our field about 15 yards wide and 35 yards long. Wasn't much but better than nothing. We would play awhile then go in and take a cold shower to cool off, then go play some more. Don't remember who won and can't remember their names other than Harry M. Perkerson lll. He was a good looking guy from Alabama with a slow country drawl. Can't even remember Frenchy's name although we were together all through basic, etc.

Kicking: 
Some more time was passed kicking the football. I think it was also Frenchy and I would place kick about every day. The barracks was in kind of a horseshoe shape with a supply center at one end. I would always kick towards the supply center. As I remember we didn't have a tee, would just prop the ball up with rocks. Sometimes I would catch a good one and it would hit on top of the supply room. Never thought much about it at the time but now think it may have been like 75 yards in the air. Never entered my mind to step it off. Anyway this place kicking would come in handy later.

The Airmens Club: 
When we did have time off we would go the Airmens Club. Cotton Ward always managed to get into a band wherever we went. He played the steel guitar and was very good at it. They formed a band that was pretty good. They had a guitar player who could play and sing OK. His name was Willie Nelson.

The Security Service: 
As we neared the completion of our Radio Operator Training they told us that some of the class would be selected for Security Service. Most of the guys didn't want in the SS as all the bases were overseas. I don't know if they told this just to make the ones selected feel better, but they told us the cream of the crop would be selected. Didn't consider myself as the cream of the crop but I was one of the ones selected as was Cotton Ward  The ones chosen for SS had to have additional training at Randolph Field. They gave Cotton and I our orders and we were on the way to San Antonio.            

Brooks AFB, San Antonio:  
I had stated earlier that we were going to Randolph Field, don't know what I was thinking about, it was Brooks AFB. We were to attend apx. six weeks of additional Radio Operator training, then be assigned to an overseas base. In the school at Keesler we had to pass 20 wpm in international morse code. Now we had to pass 23 wpm including four special characters that Russia and its satellite countries used that no other countries used. More about Russia later. School was much better there, as we went during the day with weekends off and also I had my car there, the old ‘46 Plymouth. That allowed us to go other places on the weekend, like home, Mexico, etc. (Mexico was something else!!) Also went home with Cotton Ward.

The Law:  
 I had said earlier that Cotton Ward always managed to get into a band everywhere we went and it was no different in San Antonio. Cotton always referred to anyone associated with law enforcement, from a constable to head of the FBI as the “law.” One day he was telling me, in his super slow, dry Texas drawl, about playing in a club in San Antonio. He said we were playing and drinking, and the more we drank the louder we played and the louder we played, the more we drank. Along about midnight we weren’t making music; we were making mooornfuul noooises. He said the neighbors called the law and the law got us.

Bernard P. Cutler: 
 One of my best friends was a Jew boy named Cutler. Guess it was the first Jew I ever knew. He was a good guy and pretty smart. He lived in North Hollywood, California. One weekend five or six of us went to Mexico in my Plymouth. We wound up in Neuvo Laredo. They had some fun clubs there and lots of pretty girls. We wound up sleeping in my car that nite, somewhere in town. When I woke up the next morning, it was hot and our windows were down; there was a Mexican leaning  through the window trying to get one of the guys’ billfold. I hollered at him and he took off. Luckily we made it out without getting put in jail; also had a good time. On the way back to the base one of the guys, Jim Hart from Dallas, said it was fun trying to Jew the girls down. I had also heard that saying but it had never dawned on my that it referred to the Jewish race. Anyway Cutler said, Lets say we dwindled them down, and I recognized what he meant. Hart was sitting next to me and he never caught on, and said no we Jewed them down. I was trying to kick him but don’t think he ever caught on to what was happening. I felt bad about it but nothing else was ever said. Don't know where Cutler wound up going.  

The FBI: 
After we finished our schooling at Brooks AFB we would be in the Security Service. This would require a secret clearance as we would be spying on the Russians by copying their morse code messages. We also had people that listened to voice messages. They spent about a year in school learning Russian. To get our clearance we had to be investigated by the FBI. One weekend I was home and Fred, don't remember his last
name but he did run a little cafe and later had the filling station, said the FBI was here asking questions about you. Think he thought I was in deep do-do. Anyway, I asked what he told them. He said well he drives tractors, works at the cotton gin in the fall, drinks some beer and goes dancing on Saturday night and is a damn good bronc rider. I said what did they say? They said that’s the only kind we would have. I imagine that the FBI figured there weren’t all that many Communists at Flomot. I was the first one to get their clearance.

The Lost Weekend:
One weekend I came home as did Buddy Riddle and a friend of his from Oklahoma. They were stationed at Wichita Falls attending school.  Buddy was married to Jo Dean at the time. That Sat nite they had a dance in Quitaque at the VFW. As all those towns were dry, you went out to your car if you wanted a drink, which we were doing quite often, probably too often. Seems like at one time we were drinking whiskey and  chasing it with vodka. At one point we were headed to the car and were walking in front of another car. There were like four guys sitting in the car and I didn't know any of them. Anyway for some unknown, stupid reason, I hit the hood of the car and pointed at the guy on the passenger side and said f--- you. I didn't know it, but he was one of the Lewis boys who were known as the fighting Lewises, and he came out fighting. We tangled there between the cars, slugging it out. I finally hit him with a good one and he went down and  I was on top of him when the Law pulled me off, I assume a deputy sheriff. He said I'll have to fine you guys for fighting. Do you want to pay the fine now or later? Lewis, who had his feelings hurt, was pissed and indignant from getting whipped, blurted out, I  WANT TO PAY MINE NOW!!! He whipped out his money and paid his fine. I think it was $12.50. He said how about you? I said I'll pay later. What’s your name and address?  I said Bernard P. Cutler, Flomot, Texas. He said OK. Later after the dance had ended, some of us, including Buddy, JoDean and Okie stayed on dancing to a record  player.  Somewhere along about that time someone knocked a glass pane out of the front door. I think it was Buddy. I took in on my own that I should knock one out also, and did. It cut about a 3 inch gash in my wrist, probably narrowly missing an artery. Later we were going through Quitaque and for some reason Buddy and Jo Dean were in a pickup and I was driving Buddy's Buick, and Okie was with me. For some reason Buddy made a quick stop and I hit him from the rear, and as I  remember it totaled his car. Later about  4:00 a.m. we were somewhere in the street and Buddy and JoDean were having an argument and Buddy slapped her and I hit Buddy. About that time some elderly woman opened her door and hollered at us and said if we didn't leave she was calling the police. Buddy said get back in there and shut up. Okie and I took Buddy and JoDean to Turkey and got them a room in a small hotel. It was on the right going east, seems like in the middle of town. It was around 6:30 by then and Okie and I tried to sleep a little in the car. About 8:00 they got up and I took them back to Quitaque and headed for Flomot. I got there about 8:30 and Daddy and Mommy had just finished eating breakfast, so I ate a little. Daddy said I’ve got a new bull out there you I bet you can't ride. I got my bull rope, spurs, etc and said catch him. He was not all that wild, a Hereford, and I got on  him. He bucked through a mesquite tree and drug me off. I fell under him and he stepped in the middle of my back, knocking my breath out  I got up gasping for breath and in between gasps I said catch. . . him. . . again. This time I rode him ok. Then the problem was: I had to head out for San Antonio, apx. 400 miles away, with no sleep,
hung over, headache, wrist bleeding and sore, back bruised and sore, but what the hey -- another day another dollar. What I didn't know at the time was that Okie had been telling Buddy how tough and bad they were in Oklahoma. He had Buddy convinced, so Buddy hadn’t said anything about Flomot. He said after they got back toWichita Falls Okie never mentioned Oklahoma again.                  

School: 
As alluded to earlier we were at Brooks AFB to receive additional Radio Operator Training. We had to learn the 4 characters that Russia and its satellite countries used. After that we had to pass 23 WPM instead of 20 in the school at Keisler. Once again the codes came easy for me and I passed the 23 wpm easy. Then we learned the format used to copy messages on a typewriter. They had a transmitter somewhere in the building and would send messages for us to copy and format  As the transmitter was nearby, the codes were loud and clear with no interference whatsoever, which wasn’t the case in real life, as I later learned. I did everything with ease and had the best score in my class and was promoted to Airman 2nd class. I decided then and there that I just might be the best radio operator on planet Earth. This assumption would later prove to be erroneous. For those who might not be as educated as me, that means a grievous error in judgement. ha

O'Leary: 
O'Leary was a Yankee from New York. The first strike against him was being a Yankee, talked like a Yankee and looked like a Yankee. Strike two was that he criticized Country & Western music. Strike three was him being critical of the South and especially Texas. Needless to say, he wasn’t the most popular person on campus. One Sat. night three of us went to a big Country & Western dance to hear Hank Thompson.  Naturally we had a few beers, that may be putting it mildly, and after the dance we stopped to eat breakfast. Somehow in the process of eating, someone stole a salt shaker. When we got back to the barracks all lights were out except in the latrine. For country people, that’s an indoor outhouse. Since two of us were from Texas and the other from Oklahoma, and we were in the latrine flushing out some beer, someone came up with the idea to sprinkle salt in O’Leary’s face. It was unanimous that it was an excellent idea so we flipped coins to see who would do it. The Okie lost the coin flip but he chickened out and wouldn't do it. I said give me the damn shaker and I went to his bed and shook salt in his face.  Though it was dark he could tell who it was and said don't do that again, Tex. I had more salt on him before he could finish Tex. He jumped out of bed and we tangled then and there. I couldn't blame him. Anyway, he was a pretty big boy and a good basketball player, so he was in good shape. We were slugging it out toe to toe and he finally went down and the fight was over. Neither one of us was hurt much, think I had a busted lip and he a black eye. Thinking back it was a pretty stupid thing to do, but it did eliminate the criticism of C&W music. O’Leary and I did get along pretty well after that, but  were never running buddies. 

Post School: 
After we had finished school we couldn't be assigned a base until our FBI clearance came through. We would muster every morning outside of our barracks for roll call. After that they would assign some of us some piddling details to do. The other guys might play volleyball for awhile, then after that we just goofed off. As mentioned earlier, I was the first one to get their clearance. Finally everyone had their clearance, think there were about 20 of us. One morning after roll call, they called out Gunn and  Adams. We were told we were going to the10th Radio Squadron Mobile at Chicksands AFB in England. They gave Adams and me our orders and we were on the way. Later found out that Cotton Ward went to Japan. 

To Camp Kilmer: 
The guys who were going to Chicksands AFB were to report to Camp Kilmer, N.J. One of the guys was Alfred Rigdon from Oklahoma. I took a bus to Oklahoma to meet him and stayed one nite at his house. We then headed for N.J. on a bus. I guess it never dawned that we could fly, and at that time not many flew, anyway. I think it took about three days to get to New Brunswick, N.J. where Camp Kilmer was located. Seems like we were there three or four days before they put us on a ship, the U.S.N.S General Haan. There were about two thousand troops on board, including Air Force and Army. Then we went down to Newport News VA to pick up some navy personnel. There was an army guy that was stationed at Ft. Sill, in Oklahoma. He was  loud, brash, obnoxious, irritating and all of the above. He kept bragging about how many  women he had been with in Okla. I figured they must have let a bunch of them off a reservation  Anyway the sailing was smooth going to V.A. as we weren't far out of the harbors. About the 2nd day out guess who got sick, old loud mouth from Okla. Don't remember hearing much out of him after that as the trip going over got really rough. He may not have survived. I guess the ocean must have been exceptionally rough. The ship would go over a big wave, seemed to go almost straight down, and the back end would come up so high that the screws would come out of the water and make a terrible sound. Many people got sick and were throwing up. I never threw up but didn't feel so hot at times. I think the ship may have been a lifeboat from the Mayflower, as the ship coming home was much better and faster. It took us two weeks to cross and I turned 21during the trip. Thought: what the hey, now old enough to buy a beer and I'm stuck on this boat. We finally arrived at South Hampton, England about May, 31, 1952.

Spoiled the first day: 
We spent one nite at a base in South Hampton, then they put us on a bus to Chicksands. We arrived at Chicksands about 3PM. We processed in, got our barracks assignment, bedding, etc. About 5PM we were through processing in and decided to go to the Airmen’s Club for a beer. There were 5 or 6 of us at the table, and about 530P an MP came over and said there are five girls at the guard gate; who wants to sign? So five of us walked down to the guard gate, about 1/4 mile. There were five good looking girls there, so we signed them in and proceeded back to the club.  We kinda paired off and began drinking beer. We had a very good time and about 10P we walked them back to the guard gate, with a few stops for hugs and kisses. Don’t know how they got there or how they got home. Some way or another they knew that new guys were coming in that day, so guess they thought: lets check 'em out. I think: Damn, back home we would drive the streets of Quitaque, Turkey and Matador for hours just trying to find someone to talk to. About every six months, if you were lucky, you might actually wind up with one, and here we are, been here only a couple of hours and have good-looking girls looking for us. I thought: let the good time roll!

The Queen: 
We learned very quickly how important Kings and Queens were to the English people. We had been there only a couple of days when they had Queen Elizabeth II inauguration on June 2nd, 1952. It was a major deal to the English people, with pages and pages about it in all the newspapers.  We had a hard time understanding one person could be so important. 

Work detail:  
After arriving we couldn't go to work as Radio Operators until our secret clearances were forwarded to the base, which would be two or three weeks. In the interim they had us building some new quarters for the troops which were called quanset huts. Each one would house about 12 people. It might be hard to believe, but I think some of the guys didn't know what a hammer was, much less drive a nail. They figured out right away that I did know what a hammer was, and put me in charge of about five people putting siding on the huts. About that time a heat wave hit England and was the hottest it had been for like 40 years. The temp wasn't all that high but I guess due to humidity, and not being used to the heat, several people were dying of heat stroke, etc. Didn't seem too bad to me. I wrote home and said people were dying due to the heat; don't remember how hot, think about 90. Momma wrote back and said she sure felt sorry for the people. The day she got my letter you all were hoeing cotton and it was 110.
 
West Texas girls mature early: 
This is regressing some but I remember when I was on leave just before going to England, I was in Quitaque one Sat nite. I ran into one of the Slatons, don't remember his first name but think there were three of them, with Wallace being the youngest and Two Gun being the oldest. He was with a girl that I went with some, don't remember her name either; he later married her. Anyway, they were going to the dance in Silverton and she suggested we go get Gay Merrill to go with us. We went to her house which was on the Plains close to Silverton. I wasn’t about to go to the house, so the Quitaque girl went and, and sure enough she got ready while we waited. We went to the dance and were drinking beer, of course. Gay apologized about her eyes being so red, said she had ground feed all day. If you haven't ground feed, believe me, it’s no picnic. After the dance we went back to Quitaque, about midnight. Somewhere along about that time we ran into Peg and Leon, and someone came up with the bright idea to  go to Amarillo, and everybody thought that was a good idea. May have been a little alcohol involved. So Peg, Leon, Gay and I headed out. We went to some motel and got two rooms. When I woke up the next morning I asked Gay what happened. She said I went to sleep while she was smoking one more cigarette. I thought good, I may have saved by a cigarette. We then went back to Quitaque and took her to the other girl’s house. The kicker is about girls maturing young. She was a sophomore in high school, probably wasn't a day over 15. It would be hard for me to imagine a 15-year-old doing that in this day and time. Or a 25 year old, for that matter.
                             
Paul Adams: 
After we had been to Chicksands about two weeks, our clearances came in, all but two that is, mine and Adams’. They somehow had got misplaced, so we couldn't go to work until they arrived. Also about the same time, we had finished work on the quanset huts  In the shuffle, they kinda forgot about Adams and me, so we just fooled around every day killing time, which at times entailed a few beers, etc. There was a small town about a mile from the base, can't recall the town’s name. Anyway, one day Paul and I walked to town and made noon pub call. By English laws, the pubs opened at 10A and closed at 2P, reopened at 4P and closed at 10P. We referred to the 10A to 2P as noon pub call. We were drinking vodka and orange juice, and nearing 2P we’d had several, to say the least. At ten minutes until two I noticed that there was about a fourth of the bottle left. I told Adams we had 10 minutes left to finish the bottle, so we proceeded on same. The next thing I remember, I sat up in bed about 10 the next morning. Adams was about three bunks down and he also raised up. I looked over, and he had a black eye. I said what to hell happened to your eye, it’s black. He said what happened to your eye, its black. As everyone else was working, we didn't know what had happened. About that time an officer walked in and saw us and wanted to know what we were supposed to be doing. We said building quanset huts until our clearances come in. He said HELL, the huts were finished a month ago. I forget now what they did to us, not much I'm sure. When the guys came in from work we asked what happened to our eyes. They said after we stumbled in from noon pub call we had a friendly argument and decided the appropriate thing to do was fall outside and iron things out. Never did know what the argument was about. Along about that time our clearances came in and we went to our real job.

Obie Charley One:
 I couldn't wait to get to work because I was pretty sure that I was among the best radio operators in the world as I was tops in my classes and was promoted due to my grades. There were several buildings called blocks that we worked in. They had us divided in four tricks, A,B,C, & D, which meant there was a trick working 24-7. I was assigned to C trick and worked in K block. There were 15 operators in each block. Each operator had two receivers, a head set and a typewriter. The first day they assigned me to Dave to get my on job training. I sat by him and had a head set and a typewriter. He said the guy were looking for is a spotter and his call sign is "obie charley one"  OC1. I'll explain later what a spotter is. I was  anxiously waiting for OC1 to start sending, I was really going to impress Dave as to how good I was. We sat there awhile with nothing happening when all of a sudden he said, “There he is,” and he started typing. I thought at first he was kidding because all I could hear was noise, static, solid tones and about any other interference you could imagine. He wasn't kidding. I was just about sick; I couldn’t believe he could hear the codes in all that noise. I thought they might as well make a cook out of me, I’ll never be able to copy that stuff. Back when we were in school the transmitters were in the next room, not three thousands mile away, and the tones were perfect, loud and clear. After a day or so I began to decipher the codes and after a few days I inherited his position and he moved on to something else. I later learned that the spotters were about the easiest to copy and that was the reason you trained on those positions. If I had known the others were harder I would probably would have thrown up. I'll explain later what spotters were.  

The Job: 
As alluded to earlier, I'll try to somewhat explain what our job entailed. At the time our job was secret and we weren't allowed to talk about it outside of our compound. The things we did have now been declassified and are no longer secret. At this time we were deep into the cold war with Russia. Basically what we did was spy on the Russians and their satellite countries via International Morse Code. We also had people who were taught to speak Russian and they copied voice messages. After we copied messages we sent them to another building for analysis. After they analyzed them they sent the more important ones to Washington D.C. for further analysis.

Spotters:  
Spotters were radar sites, mostly located on mountains or high places in Russia, and they traced aircraft that flew over or near Russia. Russia was marked off in grids similar to a tic-tac-toe pattern with nine squares numbered 1-9.  The first grid would be real big, then each square was marked off in smaller grids, then that one marked off until eventually they were down-sized to an exact location. The messages would include the msg#, the type of aircraft, if known, the aircraft’s position, the time in zula, etc 

The location of the aircraft message would be six numbers. Like 523658, thus 5 would be the big grid # and 2 would be the grid # inside the first grid and on down to the last grid. By then the aircraft could be pin pointed as being 29 miles due south of Muleshoe, an example, of course. Every now and then our military would fly an airplane near and sometimes MAYBE over Russia but of course we would deny this. When they did this they would alert us that we're flying by tonight and to be ready to copy. Sometimes, unfortunately, they would be shot down. Russia would swear that we were over their territory and we would swear we weren't. I saw a program on TV the other night talking about different ways of spying and they talked about this and our planes getting shot down. I think they said after 1955 we stopped these fly-bys and started flying the U2 aircraft which could fly above their radar sites. That’s when Gary Powers got shot down and captured. He had a solution he was supposed to take if shot down that would kill him but he neglected to do so. Can't say that I blame him. More later.
                                   
The Job-2:
As mentioned before, spotters were radar sites that tracked aircraft. We also copied others, like ground stations, aircraft, weather stations, etc.  Russia used 3 characters in their call signs, like my old buddy, Obie Charley (OCI), Jig Tear Able (JTA), etc. They would change their call signs and frequencies every three months, trying to throw us off. It wouldn’t take long to figure out who was who. To copy spotters you sat on their frequency and waited for them to send. We searched for others, like aircraft and other transmitters, on our receivers. Pretty soon I was getting good at the code, so they assigned new guys to me to train. What was called “chatter” was when they were sending to each other with no message, just practicing sending what is referred to as “Q signals” that are the same the world over. Therefore you can communicate with anyone, anywhere using Q signals. QSA means signal strength. QSA4 would mean that your signal is 4 on a scale from 1-5. QSA IMI means “What is my signal strength?”  IMI means “question.” Others are QRM means noise, QSL means location.

Russia used some signals that no one else used, like How Roger Dollar Sign (HR$) means good and GUHOR means I’m sending blind, I can’t hear you or see you. When training a new person it was kinda fun to know their frustration, as I felt when I started. When you were copying chatter, you could hear bits and pieces of a message and pretty well know what they sent. For instance, if you heard a $ sign you knew they had sent HR$, so you would type the same. Or any part of GUHOR you would know what it was, as no Q signals had any of those characters. It was kinda fun to see them in awe and thinking they had no chance, as I did. Then I would tell them what was going on and not to be discouraged. After that I went to searching for transmitters, which was a lot more fun. All in all, it was an enjoyable job and could get exciting when we did a fly-by or fly-over. All hell would break loose.

The Picnic:
After we had been in England about a month they had a 4th of July picnic. It was held in an area that contained soccer, football and baseball fields.  This one guy named Burr Mince, a big, likeable black guy, posted a sign on the bulletin board that they would challenge anyone to a tackle football game at the picnic. They had little notes like, “Make sure your insurance is paid up,” etc. Some guy decided to get up a team and play them, and asked me if I would play. I said, “Why not?  I’ll give it a try.” By the time we started playing we’d had several beers and were ready to go. Since I’d been there a short time, they didn’t know anything about my playing ability. Neither did I, as playing at Flomot didn’t require much ability. I played in brogans, as I had no tennis shoes, and was playing end which I had never played before. Two plays stand out in my mind: They were going to punt, and into a pretty good wind. I rushed towards the kicker, and he kicked it straight up. Everyone on our team was hollering, “Let it go!”  I theorized that when it hit, due to the spin and into the wind, that it might take a big bounce down field, so I ran on past the kicker, and sure enough it took a big backward bounce. I caught it over my head, running, and made an easy touchdown. Later, I caught about a 50-yard pass for a touchdown. When it was all said and done, we had beat them and amazingly no one was hurt, maybe due to the beer. We didn’t hear much out of that group after that.

The Surprise: 
Some of the Air Bases in England played in a football league know as the UK conference (United Kingdom ). As Chicksands was one of the smaller bases, we had no airfield, and we didn't have a football team when I arrived. That summer we got a new CO who was interested in sports and he wanted us to start a football team.We started working out and would run short sprints. The coach would blow the whistle and we would jog a ways, he would blow again and we would sprint again. I started noticing that in the sprints I was ahead of everyone. This continued every day and we would practice running back punts. I found out no one could catch me and I wondered what the heck was going on. When I played at Flomot most of the team could outrun me, such as Paul Cruse, Garland Cavitt, Frank Fisher, Bill Dean Washington, John Gilbert and Doyle Calvert for sure. Don't know about Barney Joe Martin, Red Calvert, Cecil Reed, Jack McGann, Richard Nall, and Donnie Martin. For all I know they may have been faster than me -don't remember running against them.When I graduated I was about 5' 8" and weighed maybe 125 pounds and had just turned 17. When I joined the AF I weighted in at 149, was 5'9" and was almost 20. By the time I got to England I had just turned 21, was close to 5'11' and weighed 175. Must have been that good AF food..
     One day running back punts I overheard this big black guy exclaim, “That boy can MOOVE."  They would ask me what could I run a 100 in. I said, “Man, I played at Flomot, Tx and couldn’t spell a 100, much less run one.” Anyway all this was quite a nice surprise.

Saturday Nights: 
Every Saturday night they would have a dance at the airmen’s club and would bring in a bus load of girls for us to dance with. Naturally being from Flomot, Tx and seeing all these good looking girls in one group was kinda over-whelming. The rules were, the girls could not leave with anyone, they came on the bus, leave on the bus. If you wanted to make a date for another day that was your business. A friend named Smith, Smitty, from Abilene would ask me to go to town with him on Sat nites. I kept saying no, as I wondered why you would leave a gold mine to look for silver.  Finally one nite I said OK. I found out he wasn't looking for silver, but diamonds. Don't think I made a Sat nite dance after that.  

Marshall Eugene Sheppard: 
Alias Shep. Shep became one of my best friends, as we were kinda cut from the same mold. He was raised in New Mexico on a ranch in the Guadalupe Mountains. He lived 40 miles from a store and 90 miles from a major town, Albuquerque and El Paso. We were about the same height, build, etc. He was married and had his wife with him for awhile and also had his car shipped over, a 1950 Plymouth which at that time was about like having a 380SL Mercedes convertible. After his wife went home, we were riding in style.   had an old 1934 Hillman Minx, but when we both went to town, we would usually go in his car. Shep was notorious for going to sleep driving. It was kinda common practice that the one not driving home would get in the back seat and go to sleep. One nite on the way back to the base I was in back asleep when some kind of commotion woke me up, and I was standing on the door, as the car was on its side. I said, ”What to hell happened?” 

“Went to sleep.”

I opened the top door and looked out and the road was above us. He had gone off an embankment 10 or 15 feet high, but luckily it was sloped, and the dirt was soft. It just slid down and rolled over on its side. Don't remember how we got the car out, but there wasn't much damage. Like basketball: no harm, no foul.

The Race: 
As alluded to earlier, we tried to form a football team in the fall of 1952, but couldn't get uniforms, etc, in time to get in the league, UK Conference. However, what practicing we did, I discovered that I was about the fastest one of the bunch, a pleasant surprise. In the fall of 1953 we formed the first team for Chicksands AFB. Once again in the sprints I was beating about everyone with the exception of a guy named Beason, a quarterback from Los Angeles. He was the first person that I saw who could punt a spiral. Coming from Flomot I didn't know you could do such a thing. He also threw beautiful passes, and distances I didn't think possible. Anyway when we did the sprints we would run about 25 yards, they would blow the whistle, we would jog a few yards, blow the whistle, sprint again, etc. Beason and I would always be ahead of the group.One day we happened to line up side by side, they blew the whistle and away we went. I guess the coaches noticed us ahead of the pack so they didn't blow the whistle again and we sprinted the100 yards side by side. When we got to the other end we were still side by side. He had on low cut football shoes, the first I ever saw, didn't know they had such a thing, and he didn't have on his helmet. I was wearing my helmet and of course had on high top shoes. Taking this into consideration, as a jury of one, I decided that under the same conditions I could outrun him. Guess I’ll never know for sure, as we never ran again, and he was gone by the 1954 season. Anyway, guess this theory made me feel better.    

Football 1954:
The Speech:  
Our team of 1953 wasn't very good. Its was our first team, and we weren't very organized, coached, smart, uniformed, not that many good players, and all the above. Starting the 1954 season we had a new head coach, a captain. We also had one1st lieutenant and a master sergeant. At that time they had some rules and other things that didn’t make sense. One was: If you came out of the game, you could only go back in one time in that quarter, thus you had to play both ways, offense and defense. In case of an infraction, they blew a horn instead of throwing a flag, which made things confusing. In one game we were on defense, they blew the horn and some of us just kinda stopped playing. Then they threw a 73-yard pass which counted, as we were offsides. The1st day of practice, our coach gave us a speech, which went something like this: "Last year we had the partyingest team in England. Last year we had the drinkingest team in England. Last year the horn would blow and we just stood around with our fingers up our (censored). This year its going to be different, we're gonna practice hard, play hard, play smart and if the GD horn blows I want you hitting somebody until the whistle blows, am I clear?" Yes Sir.

The Kick: 
The1st day of practice the coach asked if anyone could kick off. There were about four of us wanted to try. Back at Flomot during high school, Barney Joe and I would spend a lot of our spare time kicking, place kicking and drop kicking. We both got pretty good at it. Then I had done a lot of kicking while in Radio Operator School at Keesler AFB. The first ones to try weren't very good, then it was my turn. The very first kick, I hit a rocket, dead straight that almost went between the goalpost at the far end. From that moment on I was the place kicker. One advantage of this was that if we scored and I wasn't in the game, I would go in to kick and they wouldn't take me out because I couldn’t go back in during that quarter if we scored again. After that the coach came up and said, “Gunn, you make that pig squeal.”

Also forgot to mention that I had an old football, can't imagine where it came from, and I would practice drop kicking and place kicking it over the house at Skinners place. Guess sometimes practice pays off.      

Shep,wreck 2: 
Another nite coming home from town I was once again asleep in the back seat. All of a sudden there was some kind of a commotion and a bunch of noise, banging, etc. I raised up and said, “What happened?” Went to sleep. I looked toward the hood and it appeared to be crumpled up pretty bad. Turns out that he went into the ditch and the side of the car went against a shrub row and the front bumper dug into the ground and threw up big clods that landed on the hood. The clods made the hood look as though it was all torn up. We got it out and the only thing bunged up was the side being scratched by hitting the shrub row. Luckily  this kept us from turning over. We continued on our merry way but I stayed awake until we got to the base.

Paris:  
The fall of 1954 we flew to Paris to play Orley Field in football. I believe this was the1st time that I had flown. We went in an old DC3, which was an old reliable two engine aircraft. They strapped parachutes on us and away we went. Orley Field didn’t have barracks for us to stay in, so we went to a hotel in town. We thought: What a bad break, having to stay in downtown Paris. Oh well, we'll manage. Its was about 6:00 p.m. and the coach said we could look around town, have a beer or two, be back in our room by 10:00 p.m. and lights out at 10:30 p.m. Bob Borofski was kinda our leader and captain, and didn't run around much with the wild bunch. As we were about to head into town the coach noticed that Bob was going with our little group. He got Bob aside and told him to help keep us in line. We went wandering around town, stopping here and there to have a beer, go to another club, have a beer and move on. About 9:45 p.m. we  came to the last club. We decided we had time for one more beer and proceeded to do same. Someone then came up with a unique idea that maybe one more would be in order. We all agreed that this was a helluva idea, including Borofski. About 11:30 p.m. the coaches walked in and gave us a cold, glaring stare and walked out. Guess they figured we would go running back to the hotel. Once again someone said, “Hell, we’ve been caught, there’s no need of leaving now." Another good idea.  About 1:30  the coaches reappeared and under no uncertain terms told us to get the hell out of there. Chuck Turner was a quarterback from Massachusetts and could quickly embellish a story. He said when they came in the last time, one of us jumped behind the fridge, somebody was trying to lateral their beer off to someone else, and Borofski had his glasses on upside down. Doubt the total accuracy of this but did make a good story. Seems like at one time our leader, our mentor, our captain, a former player and captain at Lehigh, Bobrofski, did have his glasses on upside down and was about the drunkest of the lot. Guess he couldn’t hang with the gang. Come game time the next day we were all in deep do-do.    

The Game:   
Our game was at 2P Saturday afternoon at the base. It was a non-conference game and Orley Field wasn't very good, so we were expected to win the game without much trouble. Our coach took this opportunity to put all of us on the bench that were involved in the late night fiasco. The group included: Me, I played left halfback, Bob Borofski, from New York, right halfback, Chuck Turner, from Massachusetts, quarterback, John Molendick, West Virginia, fullback, Billy Folwell, North Carolina, right end and seems like there was one more but can't remember who it was. The game had been going on awhile and we were kinda struggling with the reserves playing when we made a T.D. The coach sent me in to kick the extra point. We were all lined up for the kick when mass chaos broke loose in the line. They were charging into each other, quarterback barking signals, the horn blowing, and our center was hit just as he centered the ball.The ball hit the ground about halfway between him and the holder. Our QB was the holder, think it was Ray Boyd from Iowa. We both were mesmerized by the sudden turn of events. We just looked at the ball hip-hopping along the ground towards us. Ray was still on his knees, he never stood up, when the ball took a big hop and landed in my arms. For an instant I thought: what the hell do I do now, when the coach's pre-season speech came to mind. The one about the horn blowing and us just standing around like it was a Sunday School picnic. I thought I'd better get moving and quick. I took off to the right, trying to make the end zone.  The football field was laid out over the baseball field and the right side of the end zone was part of the infield, therefore having a dirt surface. It had rained some and the ground was muddy in that area. As I neared the end zone they were bearing down on me. So I made a headlong dive into the end zone, sliding several yards in the mud. The other team was offsides so the extra point counted, and I thought: hope this made the coach happy.  We finally won the game 27 to 7. I got to play some, carried the ball three times for about sixty yards and one TD. Borofski and most of the others never got in the game. Bob then tells the coach, Gunn sure looks tired out there and he agreed and took me out. I said, “Thanks, Bob, for all your help,” and he just laughed. Come Monday the late nite culprits had to do several extra laps around the field. No big deal, another day another dollar.    

 Jim Robbins: 
Robbins was from Illinois, and was never accused of being completely among the sane. One night we were in town, Robbins, Warren Lee Hinlon, who was among my best friends and was from St. Louis, and myself. After making the pubs for awhile, we wound up at a dance. We were in Robbin's old car which was about a 1934 model, as was mine. When we left the dance I had acquired a girl, but Robbins and Henlon weren't so lucky. We were leaving Luton, don’t have a clue where we were headed, but a few miles out of town we were going down this long hill. Robbins then decided that the car behind was following us, which of course they weren't. He said, “What I'll do is, when I get to the bottom of the hill I'll take a sharp right at the road and lose them.” When he got to the road in question, he took a sharp right, but we were going just fast enough that the car turned over on its left side. The car had a big sliding top, guess that was an early forerunner to the moon roof. Anyway the top flew off. At the base of the hill was a small town, don't remember the name, but within seconds there were all kinds of people gathered around. Everyone crawled out through the top except me, and they were saying, “Come on out, Tex.” At the time I  was scantily clad, and was desperately trying to get my clothes on. When I finally crawled out, the gathering kinda looked at me as though they were thinking, “Another crazy American!” They helped us upright the car, stuck the roof down through the open top and took off. No harm, no foul.

Rugby:  
Rugby was a town which I think was NW of our base. There were no bases in its vicinity. For some reason some of us decided to go there one Saturday night. It was Sheppard, Robbins, Green, who was from Michigan, and I. Green wasn’t one of the rowdy gang and I don’t know why he was with us. When traveling in England in the 50s, even a short distance was a journey, as there were no freeways. By the time it took us to arrive, we had had several drinks and Green was attempting to hang with us. But upon arrival, he was near passed out so we located him a room and put him to bed. Then Shep, Robbins and I started making the rounds in Shep's 1950 Plymouth. I’m sure we were the only Americans in town, as the people were looking us over pretty good. We then went  to a pub and what looked like the entrance doors were actually small pane windows. We were trying our best to open a door that wasn’t there, but with no luck, of course. About that time Robbins took his frustration out on one of the window panes and knocked it out with his fist. We all three turned and started running, and by some odd quirk, we all ran in different directions. I ran about two blocks which was mostly uphill, and decided that was enough running, so I stopped. I then decided I was curious about what was going on back at the pub so decided to go back and check it out. Ironically, Shep and Robbins had run a couple of blocks in different directions and came up with the same thought as me. We three arrived about the same time, and by then there were Bobbies everywhere. There was blood on the sidewalk, so they knew someone was cut. They came to me and wanted to see my hands; no blood. They went to Shep; no blood. They went to Robbins and they asked to see his hands. He had on a light gray pair of slacks and had his right hand stuck down in the pocket. He claimed that he wasn't cut. I looked at his pants leg and it was solid blood from the pocket to the knee. Of course he was caught red handed, so to speak. I then told the Bobbies that we thought that was a door and didn't mean to break anything, and wanted to pay for the window. The owner said that would be fine, so we payed for the window, and everybody was happy. The Bobbies took Robbins to the hospital to get his hand sewed up. Shep and I went in the bar and wound up having a good time, buying drinks and they kinda treated us as heroes. The Bobbies brought  Robbins back after getting stitched up and he joined the party. Meanwhile I guess Green was having sweet dreams.
 
 The Squib Kick: 
We had a home game with a team from Germany, don't remember the name or the base or what town they were from. They had a big, fast black guy who had apparently been running amuck in Germany. We had the opening kickoff and the coach decided that I should squib kick the ball by laying it on its side. I kicked it about like I intended, and it started skidding, hopping, jumping and bouncing along. Everyone that tried to grab it missed and it went all the way to the 10 yard line where the big guy picked it up and took off. A few seconds and 90 yards later he was in our end zone. So much for a squib kick. We played pretty close after that and tied them up near the end of the game. I attempted the extra point to win the game, but it was blocked, so wound up in a tie. Like they say, a tie is like kissing your sister.

The Strange Road:  
As mentioned before, the rowdy crowd went to Luton and the saner group went to Bedford. One of my good friends was Neal Erdall from Idaho, and he was of the bunch that went to Bedford. One nite James Brown and I decided to go to Bedford with Erdall. We were in my 1934 Hillman Minx. After being in Bedford awhile and just not much was happening, we talked Erdall into going to Luton. It was about 26 miles between the two towns but it was a road that I'd never been on. There were no freeways then, just little two lane roads with a curb. About half way between towns we came to a sharp curve and, although I wasn't going very fast, I couldn’t make the turn. We crossed the road, hit the curb, and the car was bouncing ,crashing, hopping, hitting shrubs, small trees, dips and all the above. We had a quart of whiskey and Erdall was in front with me and I was hollering, “ERDALL, HOLD THE WHISKEY.” We finally slid into a small pond and came to a halt in water about a foot deep. We sat there a few seconds and Erdall said, “Gunn, I don’t have the whiskey.” I said, “Dammit, Erdall, I told you to hang on to it.” Finally Brown, in the back seat, said, “Gunn, I’ve got the whiskey." We breathed a sigh of relief and decided to have a drink. We had to abandon the car, as it was in the pond, ruined both wheels that hit the curb. We were working midnight to eight, and I don’t know how we got to the base, as our little incident was out in the country with little or no traffic and no houses around. I know we made it because I remember getting to work and I discovered a tree leaf stuck to my boot from the pond. I pointed to the leaf and said I had been to West Palm Beach Florida. Don’t reckon Erdall ever made it to Luton.

Erdall:  Act l
One nite he came in and possibly was a little tipsy. We had all contributed to a set of weights, figuring in a few months we would all look like Charles Atlas. After the drinks, apparently Neal was feeling smarter, prettier, bigger, funnier and, I’m sure, stronger than normal. He grabbed up the weights and appeared to attempt a smooth clean and snatch, or something like that. Anyway  he got the weights about three-fourths of the way up and was struggling. He became overbalanced and started going backward. He backed into his bunk, fell backward on it with the weights across his neck. It flipped his legs up and he made a complete flip into the floor on the other side of the bunk. We rushed over, figuring he was hurt, but he was OK. Then it was very funny and after that we would kid him about his weightlifting.

Erdall:  Act ll
Neal wasn’t known as a big time lover. As a matter of fact he had a scraggly mustache and kinda chipmunk-like teeth, and his Idaho accent made him kinda comical. One day he made noon pub call in Bedford. As mentioned before, the Queen’s law was that the pubs opened at 10A, closed at 2P, reopened at 4P. Go figure. Apparently he was having an affair with the bartender, who happened to be married to a big truck driver. This particular day he over indulged during noon pub call and was near passed out at 2p. The lady took him to her house and got him on the bed and took his shoes off. About that time the big truck driver husband unexpectedly came home. He saw Neal on the bed, picked him up and threw him out the door onto the sidewalk. We asked, “What happened then?” He said the guy threw his shoes out and hit him in the back while he was still sitting on the sidewalk. After that we would ask him if he had been hit in the back with his shoes lately. He would give us a silly grin. Come to think of it, I may still be mad at him. He took me to play golf my very first time. As a matter of fact, I guess it was the first golf course that I had ever seen. We went quite often after that and I was kinda hooked. Wonder how much that cost me in a lifetime?
 
The Race # 2:    
 As alluded to earlier, during the 1953 football season I ran a neck and neck race with Beason, a quarterback from Los Angles, and wound up in a dead heat. As a committee of one, I decided that I was faster because I had my helmet on and high stop shoes and he didn't. He may have thought different but what to hey!! By the 1954 season Beason had gone back to the States but we had a new guy on the team, a big black, fast fullback from Oregon named Nate Stevens. Supposedly he had played some ball at Oregon State. During the short sprints it appeared that he might be my only competition for the fastest. One day the coach decided that everyone would run a 100 yard dash. He told all the backs and ends to line up and run first. At the signal, I was off and running and beat everyone by a few yards. I thought that settles that, but he then told the linemen to line up and there Stevens was running with the linemen, who he beat rather easily. It was now time for another committee meeting of one. I decided, as the committee, that since he wouldn't run with the backs, he figured I was faster than him, so that settled that.

Almost a Hero: 
Since our team had been so dismal in 1953, our first year to have a team, no one took us very seriously. However we started 1954 with a win or two, then beat Orley Field 27-6 in Paris. We then started to get a little recognition. Our next game was with Burtonwood which was located near Liverpool and at the time was the biggest base in England. They were always a perennial power house so they didn't give us much of a chance to win. We started out playing them pretty good and finally made a TD. I kicked the extra point and we led 7-0. Right before the half they drove close to our goal line. They threw a pass into the end zone and I intercepted it but dropped it on purpose as I thought it would be a safety for them if I couldn't run it out of the end zone. Little did I know that we would have had the ball on our 20. Having played at Flomot with coaches that didn't know much more about the rules than my great-granddaughter Kaitlyn, and having never seen a game on TV, I was rather stupid about the rules, to say the least. Mercifully the half  ended before they could score and we still led 7-0. It the 4th quarter it was still 7-0 when we got to about their 10 yardline. I made a good run for a TD but our tackle had lined up offside, negating the TD and then of course we didn't score. Then they were driving down the field and they had a big end they kept throwing the ball to on short button hooks. I figured eventually they would throw him a long one which they did. I intercepted it and ran it back about 30 yards but they called us for clipping but we still had the ball and were able to run out the clock. It was just another game but we thought we had won the Super Bowl.  

Paris again :  
When our 1954 Football season was over we were offered the chance to play a post season  game in Tripoli, the Capital of Libya, located in North Africa, but they turned the invitation down. Don't remember who we were to play but it would have been a memorable trip. Instead of playing in the game they decided to reward us for a good season by taking us to Paris on a three day trip. We climbed into an old DC3 and were on the way. After landing, they took us down town on a bus. I was to share a room with Big Gus, one of our tackles. Big Gus was from Utah and was said to be the Golden Gloves Heavy Weight Champion of same, don't know how true it was. I think he had originally come from Louisiana as he could speak Cajun. As the bus pulled up at our Hotel, a good looking girl walked across the street. All the guys were saying would you look at that girl and going OOH LA LA or however that goes. Gus and I checked into the room, I then went down to one of my buddies' room and apparently Gus went to the bar. About 30 minutes later I went back to my room and lo and behold the girl that had walked across the street was on the bed clad in roughly what she was born in, but not quite as pink, and she jumped into the closet. Gus said, in some form of French, oh come on out, this is just Tex and he don't care. She came out and got back on the bed and we proceeded to have a drink of wine. I thought well, this trip to Paris is off to a decent start, so to speak. Later that night some of us were in a section called something like Pigale, it’s the part of town that has the Follies, plays, night clubs, etc. Molendick and I, our Fullback from West Virginia, wound up in a club, the Nebraska Bar, of all names. To say we had a good time might be putting it mildly. I didn't make it back to our hotel until about 9AM the next day. Don't remember what happened to Moldy. Shortly after my arrival some of the guys came into the room and asked, Tex have you had breakfast? Guess again. Someone handed me a bottle of wine and said here's breakfast. We proceeded to drink 14 bottles of wine and decided it was time to hit the town.

Fogged in: 
Some how or other we had managed to survive three days and nights and was time to head for Merry Ole England. Before we headed back to Orley Field, everyone was trying to spend their remaining francs, if they had any. At Orley Field we were told to stand by, that England was fogged in. After waiting most of the day they finally said we're going back to the hotel, England is still fogged in. Back we went to Orley the next day and the ones that hadn't spent their money the first day did a good job of it this time. Again England fogged in, again back to the hotel. At this point some were getting desperate for money and we even tried the Red Cross to no avail. Some of the guys didn't have a penny including Big Gus. The third day back to Orley and England still fogged it. Orely didn't have a mess hall like most bases, only a  cafeteria type place and no free meals.  Gus hadn't eaten in some time and was extremely hungry. I had seventy cents in script left and told Gus it was enough to get two hamburgers. We went through the line and got our burgers and don't know if Gus slipped, someone hit his arm or what but his burger made a flip off the tray and splattered on the floor. He stood there looking at the burger, all six foot four, 260 pounds, and looking like he might cry. He said in a pitiful voice, for a little I'd pick it up and eat it. He didn't but I was thinking, growing up in West Texas, we'd been all over that burger. I felt sorry for him but later it was kinda humorous. Think he did eat some of mine. Finally later in the day they said load up, we're headed for England, fog or no fog. As the plane was descending you couldn't see 5 feet out the window. Some of the guys were getting a little nervous as the plane kept going down and down and you couldn't see anything but fog, I helped out the situation by asking, aren't we in the region where the mountains are? Some of the black guys eyes were about the size of small saucers. I believe we were coming in by GCA, which radar called Ground Control Approach. As we got near the ground the fog wasn't so bad and you could see pretty good. Did kinda feel good to be on the ground again.  

 The Dance: 
One nite we were in town, ended up at the dance at the George Hotel. The dances there are not like what you would expect in the States. There was no bar, no tables, no chairs, etc. Which actually was pretty good. We would close down the pubs at 10P, then proceed to a dance and didn't need anymore to drink anyway but some times would sneak in a flask. With no chairs or tables, everyone would just mill around which made it good for meeting girls and, unbelievable as it seems, sometimes we had that on our mind. Near the end of the dance we were searching for same.  There were four of us. Soon I and two of the others had a girl and were about to leave when another girl came up and wanted to go. We were in my car and as alluded to earlier it was an old Hillman Minx which was a rather small car. That made eight of us to try and cram into the car and to further complicate the situation, the fourth girl said she was on her bicycle. Time to improvise. Somehow or other, we tied the bike on top of the car. Another problem, I couldn't find my car key. Being a 1934 model car, the starter button was separate from the key, so I made an astute decision to pull the wires off the switch and wire them together. I reached under the dash and pulled the wires off and the only problem was, there were more than two wires. I finally got the right combination wired together and the car started. Now another minor problem raised its ugly head: We had no lights.We thought, oh well, it won't be dark forever and away we went, eight people jammed into a small car, no lights and a bicycle on top. We headed out of town with not much trouble as the street lights had everything lit up pretty good. After we got out of town it was different, you couldn't see boo, whatever boo looks like. I finally pulled into a place that appeared to be a pasture and stopped. The next morning we're out accessing the situation and about five foot in front of the car was a ditch about five foot deep. About one more second of blind driving and we would have been in a fix. No, in a ditch. Bottom line; nobody hurt, got lights wired up, girls back to town, bicycle back to town, then back to the base. Another day, another dollar.

The Last nite out:  
After nearly three years it was time to say goodbye to Merry Ole England so I headed to town in my trusty old car. I kept it until the bitter end, then left it with a buddy. It just so happened that our last fling in town was on a Sat nite which meant the place would be booming. We made our favorite pubs, the Midland and Panama, and saying our goodbyes along the way. After closing the Panama we went to the George Hotel to the dance. There may have been as many as thirty girls there that I  knew. I could have set a record that nite for kissing girls as I kissed all that I knew and some I didn't know. As I was making my way along, finally they were all crying, hugging and kissing me, some were maybe being overly dramatic, but be that be as it may, it was kinda exciting. I was wearing a white shirt that nite, and when I left the dance, it was covered with make-up and was soaked with tears- real or crocodile, it didn't matter. As I was leaving I thought this a perfect send off to a very enjoyable three years at Chicksands AFB and meeting all the pretty girls. The next day they put us on a bus to South Hampton.    
 
Homeward Bound: 
In the early days of January, 1955, they put us on a bus for South Hampton, England to board a ship heading for America. Leaving was with mixed emotions, good to be heading home but leaving behind three years of good memories, pretty ladies, good friends, football, baseball, basketball, a few scuffles, some beer drinking, a wreck or two and a fun job. On the bus with me was a good friend, Floyd Foltz, a Master Sgt. who was getting out of the service after serving two tours of duty. Floyd was one of the sharpest guys that I ever knew. Floyd and I somehow managed to have a bottle or so of sloe gin, got in the back of the bus and proceeded to partake of same. By the time we got to South Hampton we were in fine form.  Floyd wasn't much of a hell raiser but somehow managed to get into an argument with a smart ass Staff Sgt. who was processing us in. I was thinking well, wouldn't this be something, getting thrown in the brig on our last nite in England.Anyway we didn't. The next morning we boarded the ship and headed for home. We later figured out things had changed a lot in the three years we were gone. We were coming into Staten Island, NY, and there was a highway running along the coast. Someone called out, look at that car. The car was a two tone and every one looked in disbelief, then someone else hollered out, there goes another one. We didn't know that they were building two tone cars, as when we left cars were solid colors and not very colorful

Visits: 
Floyd lived in Connecticut and wanted me to go home with him for a couple of days, which I did. He had nice parents and a sister still at home.  His mother especially had a good sense of humor and was a lot of fun. The first nite Floyd and I went out, but it was rather dull compared to being in England. The second nite he called a friend from NY who had come back about six months before we did, and he came over. We went out again but still was rather dull. When we started home we bought a case of beer, got to Floyd's house, sat down in the kitchen floor, proceeded to reminisce over old times and drink beer.When his mother came down the next morning to cook breakfast, we were still sitting in the floor drinking beer. She said drinking a few is understandable but drinking all nite seems like a bit much. We kinda looked at each other and thought, dam, this don't seem like much. The next morning I got on a train for St. Louis. (My last contact with Floyd, he was going to college studying to be an Electrical Engineer. Knowing him, I imagine he did quite well.)

Warren Lee Henlon: 
Warren was from St. Louis, Mo, was one of my best buddies and was our Barracks Chief. He had left about six months before I did and wanted me to come by and see him when I was on the way home. I rode a train to St. Louis and he met me at the train station. As it was getting late when I arrived, we went out on the town from there. We went to several of his old hang-outs before calling it a nite, then went home to his parents’ house and went to bed. Sometime during the nite I woke up and needed to TT in the worst way. The problem was, I didn't remember getting home, didn't know if we were in the same room, didn't know anything about the house as we didn't come in until after partying and to cap it off it was pitch black, couldn't see a thing. I felt around the room trying to find Warren to no avail, then I felt around the walls trying to find a door. After some time and near panic, I finally found a door and located a bath room. As I recall we were in the same room, but somehow I didn't find him. I spent two more nites there, then got on a train for Plainview, Tx. ( Warren Lee wound up going to college, became a teacher and taught wood shop.)    

Home Sweet Home: 
I boarded the train in St. Louis and was on the way to Plainview, Tx. As we made frequent stops along the way, seems like it took two or three days getting to Texas. The only stop that comes to mind was Canadian, TX. Having not seen a real cowboy in three years the first one I saw looked very good to me. As we were stopped in Canadian a rancher-looking man, wearing levis, boots and a big black hat had brought his daughter to catch the train. It turned out she was going to Lubbock and was attending college at Texas Tech. Finally arriving in Plainview, I took a bus to Matador. I went to the lumber yard where Calvin Monk worked and he took me out to the highway to try to catch a ride. I had kinda forgot that you didn't really hitchhike in West Texas, as the first one to come along would pick you up. Sure enough the first car along stopped and I got in. Seems as he was going to Turkey or beyond. When I told him I was headed home after getting out of the service and was going to Flomot, he carried me all the way to Momma and Daddy’s house at the Skinner place. Momma and Daddy hadn't changed all that much in three years but when Dink came in from school, I nearly fell over. I wouldn't have known him if I had met him on the street. When I left for England he was probably about 13 or so, and now was 16. He must have grown about a foot in that time.

West Texas: 
During my four years in the AF I thought I would probably go back to Flomot and continue farming and working at the cotton gin. When I left I had a few cows, a horse, a car and a little money. When I got back: no cows, no horse, no car and no money. (While I was gone I sent money home every month and told Daddy to use it farming instead of borrowing money from the bank. The last year he didn't make much of a crop so couldn't pay me back then. Later this turned out to be a blessing). All I had in the way of money was my mustering out pay from the AF, which was about  $500.00. I took a look around and saw a bleak, barren, cold, lonesome, forlorn looking country, with nary a woman in sight. I was used to the lush, green rolling hills and big green trees of England and boocoos of good looking girls. Back at Flomot about all of my friends were gone.  Barney Joe, Ben and Riley, Buddy Riddle, Wesley Cagle, all gone. Red Calvert was still around but he was on the Plains plowing the first week I was home. He came in that weekend, had to pick me up, as I had no car, and we went to the dance in Silverton. Red asked me what I was gonna do, and I said, I don't know but it ain't gonna be here. He suggested we try Ft. Worth and I said perfect. We headed out for Ft. Worth at 430AM Monday morning.

Cross-roads: Ft. Worth, Tx. 
 The pathways of life are littered with cross-roads, some major, some minor. My opinion of a cross-road is a time when you must make a decision about what to do next. This decision may affect what you do in the next minute, next hour, next day, or could affect what you do for the rest of your life.When I elected to go into the AF instead of the army, that was a major. When Red and I went to Ft. Worth to look for a job instead of farming, that was a major. I would have a completely different family if at all, I might still be looking for a woman until this day, if I had stayed and farmed. Red and I left for Ft. Worth at 430am Monday morning on a cold day in Jan, 1955. We arrived in Ft. Worth about 830am that morning and straight to the Texas Employment Commission. We were sent to a man’s desk and we told him we had got out of the service and needed a job. He picked up the phone, called someone and asked, can you use a couple of husky veterans over there? Apparently the guy said yes, send them over. He gave us an address and said it was Ft. Worth Steel and Machinery. We went over and talked to a guy and he said come back in the morning and go to work. Said they pay $1.02 an hour. By then it was probably no later than 930am. I thought, there's not much to getting a job.  We got a paper and located a Boarding House not far from where we were to work and got us a room. When we arrived the next day they started me out as a welder’s helper and Red was doing something else. At the end of the day Friday we got our first paycheck. We had only worked four days and after they took out this and that, income tax. SS, etc, our check was $28.00. I told Red, we're not rich yet but we're on the way.

School: 
Since Red and I had a high paying job, ha, we thought we would go to school and learn a new trade, and use our GI Bill to pay for it. We enrolled in a TV/Radio repair school. We went to school from 6p to10p as I recall. Since we worked during the day and attended school at nite we didn't have much nite life during the week. Didn't make much difference anyway as our money supply was limited, to say the least. Also I didn't have any wheels, so I was somewhat restricted. As my account hovered near zero, Red loaned me some money to buy a car. I bought a 1950 model Buick, I think it cost $500.00. Now I was ready to shake, rattle and roll. We hadn't worked long before they upped our salary to $1.25 an hour. That with some over time and we were rolling in dough. I had Red paid back for my car in about five months. We located a good Country & Western Club on East Belnap. Now we had expanded, work days, school nites and Stella’s on Saturday nite. Things are looking up.

Old Settler's Reunion::  
Come time for the Reunion at Roaring Springs, Red and I thought maybe we should attend. We  also thought we should take two cars, sounded good at the time but don't make much sense now. We also decided that taking some saltydog along to sip on the way might make the trip more desirable. It case you're wondering, saltydog isn't a greyhound taking a salt bath, its gin and grapefruit juice. Red had just purchased a new 1955 Plymouth and I was following him when we left Ft. Worth in my 1950 Buick. As we continued on our journey, we were sipping on our saltydogs.  The further we got, the faster we got, and the faster we got, the more we sipped. Finally I was having trouble keeping up with Red and his new car. About the last 100 miles I had it on the floor board trying to keep up, and as I recall I was going apx 100mph. We finally made it in one piece, no thanks to the gin. After the rodeo and dance I took off  for Flomot. There was a string of cars a mile long and going 20mph. As I had just been through an Indianapolis 500, they weren't going near fast enough for me so I was passing them on the left. The problem was, I was going up a hill when a car came over the top meeting me. I had to pull back in the right lane to prevent a head-on collision, and when I did a car had to go into the ditch to miss me. When I got to Matador I decided I would go downtown and eat. Before I got to town the car died. When it wouldn't start I lay down in the seat and went to sleep. The next thing I knew, someone was waking me up. I reached for the keys and said the car won't start. The man said you don't need the car to start and also said he was taking me to jail. The man was John Stotts, the Sheriff. When I woke up the next morning I was laying on a bunk and it was miserably hot and I was having a near death experience. It may have been the hangover of all hangovers, as besides the gin I was also drinking beer. I stumbled around in the cell and found a towel. I wet it, laid down and pulled it over me, that helped some. Then some woman brought me some coffee in a canteen. It was quite possibly the best drink I ever had in my life. I was wondering why I was in jail, thought just because a car wouldn't start shouldn't get you thrown in the slammer. In a bit John Stotts came in. He asked me if I knew why I was in jail and I said no. He said, you ran my wife off the road last nite coming from Roaring Springs. My memory came back enough to kinda remember it and I said oh dam. He asked me who I was and where I was from and I told him, Walter Gunn from Flomot. Didn't try the Bernard P Cutler routine this time. He said, do you know Houston Gunn and I said yes, he's my dad. He said he could fine me for being drunk which was a $12.50 fine, and wanted to know if that was OK with me. Guess what I told him?* I finally got some gas, checked my oil which the dip stick wouldn't touch, had air in all four slick tires, fired it up and headed for Flomot swearing I would never take another drink, and I didn't until that nite, after all it was Saturday nite and the reunion was still going on in Roaring Springs.
* I may have been saved by a celebrity.

FT. Worth Steel:  
Working as a welders helper, I had some spare time while he was welding something up. In this spare time I would look at the blueprints, which as first looked something like Egyptian hieroglyphics, but after awhile they started to make sense. Guess the boss thought that I might have a little initiative so one day he asked me if I wanted to learn to weld, which of course I did. He said in my spare time grab one of the welders and practice running beads. After a couple of days he gave me a minor job to do, then he gave me more jobs a little harder. Pretty soon I was building everything that came along. An engineer would design something, like maybe a feed mixer that had a hopper, some augers, a bin to pour feed into, an electric motor to run the augers, etc. Then cut-out men would cut out the required metal, then it would come to the welders. There would be a pile of metal and a blueprint. Good luck. The rub was, I was still getting welder’s helper pay. One day one of the welders who had gone to welding school on the GI Bill after World War II, asked the boss why they didn't give me welder’s pay, saying that I could weld better than him and he had been to school for 18 months. The boss's reply was, they had their quota of welders. Have you ever heard of a dumber statement?  I decided that I would work a couple more months and get as good as I could and if I wasn't getting the pay by then I would quit. Sure enough after two months no welder’s pay. Come Monday morning I went to the Texas Employment Commission to apply for another job. I had to fill out a form and it asked the reason for quitting my job. I said, Scant Earnings. They sent me to Swift Packing Co and they wanted me to start that morning. I said I needed to go to my other job, resign and get my tools and would be back AM. When I got to Fort Worth Steel it was about 10A, and this smart ass boss, who was over the welding department, asked me in a big authoritative tone, Where Have You Been? I said I have been out getting another job, Sayonara. He kinda got a funny look on his face and said oh. I got my tools and was leaving when I passed Red who was on a ladder. He said where are you going? I said I quit. I went to the house and in about 30 minutes in walked Red. I asked what are you doing? He said I was on that ladder a bit thinking, got down, got my tools and told them I quit. Guess that goes to show how dumb management can hurt a company, as they lost two good men. I think I was doing a good job and Red was a hell-of-a worker. By the way, my starting pay at Swift was more than welder's pay at Ft. Worth Steel.

Mexico:  
One of our Boarding House Buddies was a guy named Herman Wilkins from Decatur, TX. Herman was a year or so older than Red and I and had been out of the AF about a year when we arrived in Ft. Worth. He spent his time in the AF at Lackland AFB as a drill instructor. One day he asked Red and I to go the San Antonio and to Lackland AFB to visit some old buddies. We said, lets roll. By the time we got to San Antonio we had consumed some alcohol and were in fine form. We met some of Herman's buddies and went to eat at the mess hall. Herman was kinda on the conservative side and Red and I were in rare form. I was wearing one of my old blue AF shirts with the sleeves cut off at the shoulders and saluting a Master Sergeant didn't seem to help any. Herman decided we should move on before we all landed in the brig. We then made an astute decision, deciding we should head for Mexico, so therefore hit the trail. Herman had just bought a brand new Pontiac a day or so earlier and wasn't supposed to drive it over 65 MPH for about 500 miles. Somewhere along the journey, Herman was going 105 mph and was cussing because it wouldn't go any faster. Also at one point I  remember I had the door open and was dragging my boot heel on the road to watch the sparks fly. Pretty smart, huh. We finally made it into Mexico in one piece and luckily made it out in one piece. Lets put it this way, what happened in Mexico stays in Mexico.


New Years Eve, 1955:
 I headed for Stella's C&W Club to bring the New Year in right. Back then you could bring in your own bottle and just pay for the setups which made partying very reasonable, and of course that’s what I did. There were some ladies there, guess they were ladies, that I knew. One of them I went with some, can't say I ever had a date with her but wound up with her several times. She was 39 and I was 23, which in my mind made her seem as though she was almost on Medicare. However she was good looking, had a good job and had a new 98 Oldsmobile. Made me feel like someone important when we were in her car. Early in the evening, about 830P, in the midst of a fast dance like a jitter bug, she fell and broke her arm. Someone took her to the hospital and they put her arm in a cast and before long she was back dancing. There was a guy there that was crazy about her and they were at the same table, he may have brought her. He had told her not to dance with me anymore. I had been waiting on midnite as I had the intention of kissing every woman I could find at the bewitching hour. Somehow I wound up dancing with her about 5 minutes to12mdt, and thinking the magic hour is about here. When I walked her back to the table, her date, I guess he brought her, jumped up and jerked her down in the chair and proclaimed, I told you not to dance with him again. He turned to me, madder than a wet hen and said you let her alone, she's my woman. I said she's mine now. Guess that was the last straw as he started swinging at me. I swung 3 or 4 times real fast and he was down. The bouncers were there by then and they threw him out and I wound up with the woman. Guess it wasn't his night. However by the time the melee was over, midnite had come and gone and I hadn't kissed nary a woman. Goes to show you can't win ‘em all. Along about this time I decided I had rather be a lover than a fighter. Don't know exactly how that turned out but that was my last fight and that will be 50 years come midnite, Dec.31, 2005. Not bad huh?

Another Cross Road:  Living at the Boarding House was Herman Wilkins, afore mentioned in the Mexico trip. Herman was pretty smart and was attending college full time at Texas Weslyan and working full time evenings. In spite of working he was still in the top 10% in his class. He was to graduate at the end of May that year, 1956 . He then was going to the University of Texas to get his masters degree. He wanted me to go with him and start at UT. I thought you had to be a near genius to attend a big college and told him I could never pass as I would be terrible in
English, etc. He said I wouldn't have any trouble and if I did he would help me. I finally said ok. This was going on about  Feb. I was working at Swifts and was saving some money as I was still going to Radio and TV school at nite, plus the government would give you money for attending school. Lo and behold sometime in March, one Friday at work, they came by passing out pink slips, me being one of the recipients. AT&T had called me a couple of times about going to work for them but I had turned them down as I didn't want to leave FT. Worth. I looked for a job there for a week and hadn't found anything, so I called AT&T that Friday collect and asked the guy if he still wanted me. He say yes, I say, I'll be there Monday morning. Sunday Red told Herman come on, we've got to move Walt to Dallas. We threw what little I had in the back of my car and we took off. Got to Dallas, bought a newspaper, found the AT&T building, looked in the paper and found a Boarding House close to work and was in business. Went to the office Monday morning, took a physical and went to work. Don't know how it would have turned out if I hadn't got laid off that Fri and had gone on to UT. Its obvious I would have had a different family so as it is, it couldn't have been better. By the way, Herman got his Masters Degree and wound up being the head of Budget and Personnel for the Railroad Commission.    

AT&T:   After my physical on Monday morning, I reported to the 2nd level boss at 4100 Bryan St. in Dallas. He said, lets see, you've been going to Radio and TV school so I'll put you back at the TOC. He might as well have said in outer space as the TOC, as I had not one clue what it was.  It turned out that TOC was Television Operations Center. The 1st level boss of the TOC wasn't there that day and there was a guy there in a white shirt so I assumed he was the boss. Wrong, he was just a grunt like me. I didn't know that workers would be in a white shirt as I - being a farmer, gin worker, welder and etc, never thought about a white shirt.The next day the boss was back and filled me in on what we did. The TOC received TV from the networks, then ABC, CBS and NBC. The TV was transmitted to us from New York and Los Angeles. We then fed it to apx 40 TV stations in Texas, New Mexico and Arizona. Back then TV was kinda in its infancy and the stations might be affiliated with CBS but could switch to another network if they had a show they wanted and there wasn't another station in their area carrying the same show. We would receive orders on a teletype that would tell us who was getting what and we had to switch them to the appropriate TV line to get same. All switches were made 20 seconds before the hour or half hour, such as an eight o'clock would be made a 759.40. We had very accurate clocks that were adjusted to a time signal from Washington. We also had several TV monitors and we were to observe all the networks to watch for troubles. Any problems observed we gave to Chicago who then passed it to New York. Also if a TV station gave us trouble we investigated to find the problem. I thought, someone must be pulling my leg, you surely don't do this and get paid for it. Later on I found out it could get kinda exciting and hectic when there was a big failure, or we switched some station to the wrong network, missed a switch or a multitude of other things that could go wrong. Bells would be ringing, lights flashing, phones ringing, the boss hollering, what to hell is going on. I've seen some guys so excited that they couldn't think straight. I was normally pretty calm under pressure so maybe this gave me some advantage. I worked in the TOC for a couple of years then went to other departments. All was very interesting. One was broadband carriers.This was the systems that carried all voice messages, TV signals, data lines, etc. across the country. We maintained the electronic equipment for these carriers and also on troubles incoming, we would isolate the problem to a section. Such as a system from New York to Dallas, the trouble might be between Atlanta and New Orleans and we would refer it to the office that controlled that section. Some of these systems were microwave, some buried cable and even some open wire going to podunk towns. All these jobs were interesting, sometimes fun and the icing on the cake was, we got paid to do it.        

1956, A GOOD YEAR:
1956 brought some life changes, all to the good I think. !st, got a good job with AT&T although the pay wasn’t all that good when first starting out. 2nd, got married. This was a vast change from being in FTW going to school at night, working at a menial job daytime, partying and dancing weekends, chasing some girls or was they chasing me, what ever, it was time to do something more significant. Joyce and I was kinda struggling to get by.Your starting salary with AT&T is on the bottom of the totem pole pay scale but you do get an automatic raise every 6 months, although not much. Larry was born in 1957 and it seemed it was time to be a home owner. I borrowed $500.00 dollars from the Credit Union, went to Goodwill and garage sales, bought some used furniture, bought a repo house for $11,000 with payments of $72.00 a month and was in business.

Saved by Daddy:
When I was in the A.F. I sent $50.00 a month home.  As farmers had to borrow money to put in crops, I told Daddy to use my money and he would save the interest. The problem was the last two years he didn’t make much of a crop so was unable to pay me back. When I came home from the service I got $500.00 mustering out pay. Arriving at home I had no money in the bank and no car. I had left a 1946 Plymouth when leaving for the AF but guess it had fell by the wayside. There was an old beat up black PU in the yard and Daddy said, guess that’s your truck if you want it. I say naw, you can have it. However Daddy was the type that would pay back anything owed if he could only pay a nickle a month for 60 years. I told him to forget about paying me but knowing him I knew he would try.  About the time Joyce and I would be wondering how we were going to pay our bills, along would come a check for a couple hundred dollars from Daddy, which would bail us out. It seemed as though every time we were in trouble along would come a check from Mommy and Daddy as though there was a divine interference.

Along about this time, here come Steve, then about 15 months, Karen, another 15 or so, here come Scott.  Not long after that I was promoted to management and the raise I got sure made it easier making ends meet. By the time he got me paid back I had moved up on the pay scale where it wasn’t such a struggle.

Cross Roads # 3
After working nine years in Dallas with AT&T, having four kids, I was offered  a management position in Ennis which I accepted. If I had turned down this offer our kids would have a complete different set of spouses, and of course different grandkids. Needless to say, I’m glad I took this route.

Cross Roads # 4
After working in Ennis for a few years I was offered a 2nd level position in Kansas City. I turned this offer down, although it would have been considerably more money. I was afraid Joyce and I wouldn’t like living in KC and our kids were in school and wouldn’t want to go to a different school and leave their friends. This would also create different spouses and grandkids and in all likelihood would still be living in the Kansas City area. Not a good thought  Therefore I stand by that decision.

Raising kids
Since we were to stay in Ennis we settled down to the task of raising kids and paying bills. This job was sometimes mundane, sometimes exciting, sometimes great, sometimes not so great, some times fun, some times frustrating, sad. Fun, rewarding but never dull, and when you add up the pluses and minuses, I would say it was mostly wonderful. To end my Memories I would say if I had it to do over again I might have done a few things different but mostly not. I think it has turned out pretty good with a great bunch of kids and grandkids, and last but not least, a great-grandkid. All in all, its been quite a ride.

The End, Walter Gunn