Miracles at the Little House

                  Bernyce Gates, my mother, was born 1.5 miles west of where she lives now. Almost everyone was born at home in 1924, her birth year. Later she lived in a little house with her parents, Gladys Vivian Rainey Smith and Calvin Callcayah Smith, located near the Arkansas River about 2.5 miles south of my parents’ present home. My grandparents leased the Oliver Morton place. Oliver Morton was the great-great-grandfather of Donna White Renfro, Lisa White Crabtree, Teresa White Smith, Joe White, and the late Anna White Vance. Presently in the Bend, Cassi Rice Fesler’s family lives closest to the Morton place. The place is now farmed by David Crabtree.

Oliver Morton, original Osage allottee and owner of the land
leased by my grandparents. (courtesy Osage Tribal Museum)

                Mother succinctly recalls the little two-room house with her baby bed and her parents’ bed on the east side of the front door adjacent to a sitting room on the west side. The length of her parents’ bed spanned half the length of the front room. Only a 4-foot divider separated their sleeping area from a sitting area on the west side of the front door. The second room in the house was a kitchen/dining room located at the back of the house. The house was approximately 10 feet by 14 feet giving them a whopping 140 square feet! Wow! Times have changed.

The little house on the Oliver Morton place. Mother's baby bed was positioned
under the window on the left. She reminded me to notice no electrical lines
were coming into the house. No one at that time had electricity in the Bend.

               In 1928, Mother was a sick, little girl suffering from a severe case of pneumonia. Her recovery was miraculous since another lady in the community, Dona Ada Snow also suffered from pneumonia at that same time and died in her early 40s, leaving her husband, Asa Snow and seven children. Later Mother’s uncle, Gene Rainey married Raucie Snow, one of Mrs. Snow’s daughters.

                Diphtheria, a serious disease affecting the throat and damaging the heart and nervous system, has all but been eradicated in the 21^st century due to immunizations. However, Mother and my grandmother, Gladys acquired the disease in the mid-1920s. At that time in history, it was believed that cats could transmit it to humans. Mother’s parents had been unsuccessful in deterring stray cats from going under the porch of their little house. It is now believed it is transmitted in much the same way as a common cold.
                Both Grandmother and Mother were seriously ill. Grandpa was working in the field. As the day wore on, their condition worsened. Almost miraculously, Dr. E. N. Lipe appeared at their home. He had received a phone call from a “Smith” asking him to come to their home. In actuality, the call was from the Smith family living in the north Bend area located northwest of Fairfax and much closer to Ponca City. Dr. Lipe assumed it was my mother’s family and traveled from Fairfax west to the Big Bend.

Dr. E.N. Lipe practiced medicine in
Fairfax. His wife was the city librarian.

                Upon arrival at the little house, Dr. Lipe began to explain he was responding to the telephone call. Grandma, in her weakened condition, explained they hadn’t called. No one in the Bend had phone service in those early days! He realized immediately the grave situation and went into action giving Grandma and Mother injections and prescribing medicine to take as further treatment to insure their full recovery. Since tens of thousands died during that century in the United States, it does seem that God intervened directing Dr. Lipe to their home. Incidentally, the other little girl for whom Dr. Lipe had been called also recovered even though the doctor didn’t get to their home as soon as they expected.
                Obviously, God had a plan for both my mother and grandmother. Grandma in her twenties had not faced her own mortality or even thought about life after death. She would confront and deal with both these issues in 1931. (See the blog post entitled Alice Rainey – The Valentine Baby posted on February 9, 2014.)
                Childhood death was much higher in the early 20^th century. When researching family history from previous centuries, it becomes obvious that most families were touched by death – either a baby, a child, or even a parent with complications from common illnesses such as influenza. Many women died in childbirth. So it was a sort of miracle for Dr. Lipe to go to the wrong family with a desperate need for medical attention and in turn, preserve one little family living in a little house.

Calvin Callcayah, Bernyce, and Gladys Vivian Rainey Smith
in front of the "New" house that replaced the little miracle
house. Mother and her family were so proud of that new house.

Recalling the Life of William Herbert Gates

86 Years Ago

            Herbert was born on July 14, 1928, in the Big Bend Community west of Ralston in the two-room house that belonged to Edmund, Sr. and Mamie Irene Tripp Gates. His father, a life-long supporter of the party of Lincoln, wanted to name him after the sitting president, Herbert Hoover. His mother felt that was a bit much of a name to tack onto her precious, tiny son. When Mrs. Mary Goad, a dear neighbor, suggested, “William is a nice name because he can be called either William or Bill or Billy,” then Mamie Gates chose William Herbert for their newest baby boy. Incidentally, he was never called William, Bill, or Billy but always referred to as Herbert, Herb, or Herbie.
            Just about two and a half years later, as my father would say, another boy came along. When Jim was born in January of 1931, (See the blog post of January 26, 2014, entitled James Franklin Gates and His First Trip with the Big Boys to the Arkansas River.) Edmund, Jr., my father who was eleven years old, said Herb took one look at that little baby with his mother and headed to the bunk house to begin sleeping with the big boys, Edmund, Jr., Fredrick, and Jess. Dad recalls my grandmother admonishing them, “Don’t you big boys roll over and smother little Herbert.”
            Soon,despite their rocky beginning, Herb and Jim bonded to the point that seldom were their names spoken separately. Those two boys hunted together until Herb’s hearing and health ended those exciting late night events. The two of them doubled the fun but also doubled the orneriness that they could get involved in doing. Dad has mentioned acting “dumb” when his father asked him about the family truck having very little gas indicating it had been used the night before when all the time Edmund, Sr. had the key in his possession. Grandpa was an expert at driving a team and wagon but knew little about hot-wiring a pickup!

Herbert and Jim Gates with the pickup they hot-wired.

Jim and Herb with Morgan

Several cousins, like me, may recall Uncle Herb always had at least a half-stick of gum to the delight of his nieces and nephews.

 As with all of the Gates sons, Herb was a wonderful storyteller, but he reportedly said, “I always make it just a little bigger.” Uncle Jess’s daughters said their father said a story must be “embellished.”

 Herb told Dad if he was in the Bend around midday, he always managed to be at their home place because as he said, “If you’re there around noon, you’ll get a hot meal.” Grandma loved to oblige her dear son by feeding him. On numerous occasions, I heard Grandma say about Herbert’s actions, “Wasn’t that dear?”

       I could mention his service in the Navy or his impeccable craftsmanship with wood or his unwavering love for his children and grandchildren, but for me, one of my greatest memories were associated with Herbert’s commitment to his faith in the Lord Jesus. He would drive each Wednesday evening to attend Bible study at the church even after he began having the burnouts connected to his brain cancer. He prayed for people, shared with them his faith, and enjoyed talking about God’s love for people and how He revealed that in His Word. His last pastor, Charles Welch always repeated with emotion Herbert's comment about the blindness resulting from his brain tumor and his impending death, “The next face I see will be the face of Jesus.” His commitment to the Lord can serve as an impetus for each of us to deepen our daily walk with Him.

The Orphan Kittens - Almost 90 Days Old

Readers who accessed via FB the blog post of April 27, 2014, entitled Four Little Kittens, know my sister mentioned that the very day the blog was to be posted at midnight, Peaches, the mama cat, disappeared. I plan the blog postings in advance due to devoting the bulk of our time to caring for Dad. As a result, I felt it necessary to post about the kittens and the storm even though our hearts were heavy over the loss of Peaches. Some of this blog's readers have inquired about the orphan kittens so I decided this week to give an update on them.

Update on the Orphan Kittens

            Peaches had her first litter of kittens on April 9. On April 19, she did not come for her morning feeding. Later that day, we found her kittens, but she was never seen again. That left us with four kittens who needed to be bottle-fed. Thankfully, Rick and Barbara Rice were coming to see Dad and called to see if we needed anything. We were so grateful for the nursing bottles and kitten formula they brought to us. The smallest one needed to be fed every two hours. They slept in a large box until Angie loaned us her roomy cat container for transporting the two Savannah cats that she and Ben have. This was an extremely demanding time for us, but Shari, one of Dad's nurses who had previously been a vet tech, gave us advice and encouragement.
           One of the bobtailed kittens died when it was a month old. We were left with two healthy kittens and the smallest one. On Mother’s Day, May 11, Ben constructed an enclosure so we could get them outside. The kittens really enjoyed the freedom that this enclosure gave them.

The Enclosure That Ben Built.

Bob

    

Tailer

            Mother doctored and pampered the smallest kitten, but it died on May 27. We were left with two thriving kittens. The bobtailed cat, which was the largest, was named Big Shot Bob. We have shortened his name to just Bob. Angie named the smaller of the two – Tailer – since he had a tail.

            Then one Tuesday night when Angie was staying to assist Dad, Tailer got sick. Angie had Dr. Reavis on the phone by 8:30 a.m. the next morning and was headed with Bob and Tailer to Pawnee to the Territory Animal Clinic. He prescribed a round of medication for both of them. Tailer never had another episode. They both seem healthy.

Bob loves the food bowl.

Wrestling - Favorite Pastime

           Bob and Tailer love to wrestle. It can be Greco-Roman or WWF. It doesn’t matter to them. Often smaller Tailer instigates it. Bob always is ready to participate in a tussle.

Tailer pausing before kicking his foil ball.

         They are weaned and on a more manageable feeding schedule. After their evening feeding, they use Mother’s step stool as a climbing post. One of their favorite playthings is a foil ball that Mother made from recycled aluminum foil. Tailer is quite good with the foil ball. He may be ready to try out for the U.S. soccer team.

                   This is a new adventure for us. We are giving them quite a bit of freedom during the daytime. Mother says it's a lot like allowing your inexperienced, young driver to go out on her own. So far, it's working out ok, but more than once we've commented to each other about the inestimable value of a mama cat.

Tuckered Out!