Does Remembering January Make July Cooler?

I glanced at this devotional written last January. Maybe recalling the chilly weather of the winter days will provide a refreshing breeze - actually, we haven't had an unbearable summer. Plus - the devotional carries a much deeper message than weather and fluctuating temps.

Bob and the Power Outage

Indeed, the darkness shall not hide from You, But the night shines as the day; The darkness and the light are both alike to You. Psalm 139:12

                The power outage created anxiety for my elderly mother over her frozen food stuff. She knew it would remain frozen in the cold, January weather for a while, but she began stewing with questions like, “What if it is off for a week?”

I responded, “Let’s take it a day at a time and then reassess.” I tried to reassure her that the rural electric crews excel at restoring power - even in the worst weather.

 Each evening Bob, the lovable, orange and white Manx cat, came in to play in the hallway. After playing, he was ready to eat a bit and curl up in his cushiony bed on the back porch.  Without electricity, I thought I had better let Bob come in before darkness fell since I might be unable to find him in a dark house if he ventured from the hall.

Bob came in unfazed and quite comfortable in the dimly lit hallway. He batted his ball up and down the hall. As I sat and watched him, Psalm 139: 12 came to the forefront of my thoughts.

The last phrase of the verse lingered in my mind as I observed Bob enjoying himself in the shadowy corridor. He behaved as though light flooded the hall. Knowing how much better cats’ vision is in low light; I thought about God and darkness.

When David wrote Psalm 139, he explained succinctly that darkness and light were the same to God. How we fear what is unseen in the darkness! Anything could be in the dark, intent on harming us.

In the “dark” seasons of our lives, we fear what is unknown. What will be the outcome of an illness? Will the strained relationship strengthen and flourish or weaken and dissolve? In hazy, uncertain times, trusting God becomes difficult.

Times of light, certainty, and surety are identical in God’s realm to the situations when darkness, perplexity, and insecurity pervade every aspect of our thoughts and daily living. At moments of uncertainty and fearful indecision, we pray for faith to trust Him in the darkness since only He sees it just like light. Our trust in God shines light into our dark days.

Bob next to his new favorite piece of furniture -a foldable step stool. Bob
loves this stool since it has become part of his nightly routine. He knows that
he gets to play for around 30 minutes indoors. After about 25 minutes, he moves
to the stool, hops on it, and "rides" it to where I feed him a predetermined
amount of catnip treats. I always tell him when we are on the last two treats. He
seems to understand. What pampered pets we Americans have! My ancestors
would probably not understand.

Softball, Singing, and Skin Tests

                My mother, Bernyce Smith Gates, attended the Belford Grade School in the 1930s. During that time in her life, her family socialized with the Woods family. The families had several interests in common.

Her father and Perry Woods loved baseball. Her father, Calvin Callcayah Smith, became known for his pitching. Perry, the father of my mother’s friends, could be found most Sunday afternoons in the summer behind the plate playing the catcher’s position. 

These men’s wives had a strong bond with their faith in the Lord and their mutual desire for a daily obedience to His ways. To read more about the closeness of the Smith and Woods families, go to: http://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2015/06/one-of-most-unused-sources-of-power.html

Both families loved music. My grandmother, Gladys Vivian Rainey Smith, taught herself to read music as a teenager and then using the Rainey family’s old pump organ taught herself to play. She sang note-perfect the alto part. Lora Jean Woods, one the girls in the Woods family and Mother’s dear friend, sang alto beautifully, too.

 Perry Woods had trained in the shape-note singing in his younger days in Eastern Oklahoma. Shape-note music originated in the early 19^th century by coordinating the seven tonal syllables – do, ra, mi, fa, so , la, ti, - with shape-notes. Soon singers trained in the system were singing hymns and spiritual songs printed with the shape-notes.  Perry could sing equally well tenor or bass in their nightly musical family get-togethers.

My grandmother taught my mother, as a child, to read music. My mother, Bernyce Smith Gates, later had only eleven piano lessons. She served as the pianist of the Smith-Woods families’ singing nights. The two families gathered at my grandparents’ home since they owned a piano – the same piano that was recently restored. (More about its restoration at: http://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2016/04/i-hope-this-is-not-my-sewards-folly.html )

Betty Jo Woods, just younger than Lora Jean, sang the lead or soprano in the family group. When the Woods family sang special songs at revival or church services, Mother played the piano for them. Lora Jean sang the alto part with her father, Perry, singing the tenor or bass, depending on which part the song required most.

Lora Jean and Betty Jo Woods. Their
nicknames are "Lon" and "Pete."

The two families shared a love of baseball and music. Also my grandfather, Perry, and his wife, Ruth Washbourne Woods, all of Cherokee descent, had been born in the Cherokee Nation in the 1890s. As a result, my mother and the Woods’ children were classified as “Indians” and required to submit to the tuberculin skin test to identify tuberculosis cases. Mother said she never questioned why only she, Lora Jean, and Betty Jo were singled out for this screening. Obviously, my mother, Lora Jean, and Betty Jo didn’t associate prejudice with this type of racial profiling. Incidentally, their school experiences predated the era of the CDIB (Certificate of Degree of Indian Blood) card or classification.

The three friends loved to play softball at recess at the Belford Grade School and on the Belford girls' softball team. Lora Jean or "Lon" pitched for their little team. Betty Jo or "Pete" played catcher just like her father. My mother played first base. All three Cherokee girls delighted in slugging home runs. Whenever one of the girls connected their old wooden bat with the softball and sailed it over the school yard fence, it was deemed a "home run." Incidentally, even though Title 9 hadn't been instituted, the recess games sometimes were coed. The Belford boys hated to chase and try to find the "home run" balls that the girls smacked outside the school yard!

           My grandpa seldom shared about his past, particularly how his Cherokee ancestry affected his life. Yet, one evening, as I quizzed Grandma about family stories, he quietly spoke, “The only fight I ever got in was when I was called a ‘bug eater.’” The context of this controversy must have been quite mean-spirited to evoke this volatile response from my peace-loving grandpa. Yet Grandpa rose above the name-calling and lived a life free of animosity.
          A few years ago, I met an older man who had lived in the Big Bend in the early days. When he found out who my grandfather was, he said, “Oh, everybody knew Cull Smith was an Indian.” He didn’t elaborate on his statement, I didn’t try to read anything into his tone, and I didn’t question him further. I have learned sometimes it is best to follow the old proverb and “leave well enough alone.”

Sample of Shape-note Music from one of
Grandma's old songbooks.

As a teenager, I became intrigued by the old shape-note songbooks. One summer afternoon, I grabbed a pencil, plunked at the piano, until, through trial and error, I determined that the shapes below correlated to these tonal syllables.

Do – equilateral triangle – (upside down cone)

Re – round shape with a flat top

Mi – diamond

Fa – right triangle with base at top

So  - round

La – square

Ti – cone shape with rounded top

Quite Close - Yet Neither of Us Knew

 This Just Shows Who I Didn't Know

                Since my family had lived in the same area for around 100 years, I thought I knew every possible relative no matter how far “removed’ a cousin might be. At least, that is what I thought until earlier this year.

                Last year I posted a blog about my great-great grandfather on my paternal grandmother’s side. Grandma’s father had died when she was only five years old. Little seemed to be known about the Tripp side of her family. My father often said when his father, Edmund Gates, Sr., began telling stories and asked Grandma about a detail, she would retort, “Oh, I don’t care about those old stories.”

One of the most challenging blogs I ever researched centered on a photograph postcard signed to “Mamie.” Mamie Irene Tripp Gates was my paternal grandma so I knew this given to her. After a couple of years of research, I identified the subjects of the photograph as half-cousins of my grandma on her father’s side. The details of my research appeared in the blog post entitled Solving a Photgraphic Century-Old Cold Case. To access this blog go to: bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/03/solving-photographic-century-old-cold.html

She never mentioned her paternal grandfather. I began researching and discovered that he was a Union Civil War casualty. My grandmother descended from Horace Baron Tripp. With curiosity fueling my research, I located his burial place in the National Military Cemetery in Little Rock, Arkansas. Horace Baron Tripp’s story seemed perfect for Veteran’s Day so I posted a blog featuring him on November 8, 2015.

What a surprise to receive a phone call from a couple who thought, after stumbling onto the blog about Horace Baron Tripp, that we might have a familial connection. As we talked, it became apparent that Carol was a great-great granddaughter of Horace Baron Tripp just as I am. Her great grandfather, James Preston Tripp, was the only full brother of Rufus Tripp, my great grandfather. Carol’s grandfather and my grandmother were first cousins. Carol grew up in Kay County here in Oklahoma. She and her husband still live in the same county just north of Osage County where I have lived most of my life. I thought I knew every relative that lived within a 100-mile radius! What a terrific surprise!

Since we have found each other, she and her husband have shared priceless photographs with me. What a rare glimpse into the past to see Horace Baron and Elizabeth Tripp and their sons, Rufus and James! Each of us who descended from this Tripp family realized upon viewing their likenesses the powerful connective thread we share with these.

The only vision of the face of my great great grandfather was depicted in the carte de visite, a small visiting card immensely popular during the Civil War era. Looking at me, as he appeared from over a hundred years ago, I saw a noble man with kind eyes who enlisted, to serve for one year in the Union army. He departed from Quincy, Illinois, the very place both of the CDVs were taken. Horace Baron Tripp never returned.

Possibly one of the last photographs of Horace Baron Tripp

As I studied the face of my great grandfather, Rufus, I saw a young boy determined to step into the role of the “man in the house” as his father marched away with the Illinois infantry. His comforting hand assured his mother that even as her heart broke, she still had little James and him to love and support her. I understood why one of Grandma’s last, yet strongest memories reached back to the day, at age five, when she told her father good-bye just before his death. Even though she conveyed this, I think she exuded the same strength that her father demonstrated when his father did not come home from the war. His example and influence buoyed her through the loss of her father. No wonder she retained that time-tested connection with the dear man even though she only had him for five years of her life!

Rufus Tripp, Elizabeth Wood Tripp, James Preston Tripp

Yet somehow, an overarching virtue in this blog is the self-sacrificing act of sharing. Carol and her husband offered freely and willingly to share the precious, invaluable photographs that I didn’t even realized existed. Foundational to a good family is sharing. A father of today, like Horace Tripp over a century and a half ago, works long hours so he can provide for his family financially and devotes in his “leisure time” instruction in activities his child wants to learn. Mothers in the 21^st century, much as Elizabeth Tripp did, give time, effort, and creativity to create an environment for her family to thrive, no matter what situation they may find themselves. In a loving family, members from the youngest to the oldest share together in making their family an example of cooperation, consideration, and love. Isn’t sharing what Carol, the newly-found cousin, and her husband have illustrated? We never know when a blessing will show up in our lives.

Never Expected to Post 150 of These!

                The posting of this blog marks the 150^th one that I have written. Never would I have thought I would reach this point. Writing a weekly blog hadn’t made my “bucket list” in 2013 – in truth, I don’t have a “bucket list."

                We attended the Gates Family Reunion in Stillwater during July of 2013. As I visited, especially with the younger cousins, it became apparent many of the tales of the Gates family were unfamiliar to them. I told a couple of people that I might try to post one of these stories weekly, beginning in the fall of 2013.

As I mused over the day’s events that evening, I began to question what I had committed to do. Maybe I had bitten off more than I could chew. I had never even viewed or read a blog so I certainly knew nothing about writing one. I had read one or two articles about how to blog.

Many sessions of research on blogging, were followed by multiple days of trial and effort mixed with frustration. There were strident moments of regrets, directed at myself, for my hasty commitment to attempt something I knew so little about. To top it off, I knew Dad’s care ranked highest on my schedule.

Originally, the purpose of the blog, Faith_Family_Farm, was to convey Gates family stories that my father, Edmund Gates, Jr., had told. My insightful sister served as a good sounding board and source of information for this new endeavor. Angie, my sister, mentioned the name for the blog since a few of my manuscripts based on faith and farm experiences had been published already. She implied that I might want to “rerun” some of those articles, knowing how quickly my self-imposed weekly deadline would roll around.

Following some agonizing moments and multiple rewrites, I launched tenuously the blog, Faith_Family_Farm on September 1, 2013. The first blog posting was entitled He Was Paid for His Wheat in GOLD! It was a simple story about Grandpa Edmund Gates, Sr. being paid in gold for the wheat crop he sold. It can be accessed at: http://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2013/09/he-was-paid-for-his-wheat-in-gold.html 

My sister, knowing that I had no presence on social media, suggested that she post it on Facebook that Sunday morning. Surprisingly, many of the readers were not from the Gates family. Former students served as some of my strongest supporters and encouragers. Friends, neighbors, and relatives seemed to find the “gold” story interesting.

Thankfully, I had written down the Gates family stories as Dad had told them prior to his first stroke. Even though I attempted to carefully transcribe the history of the family of Edmund, Sr. and Mamie Irene Tripp Gates as told by my father, a few times I have longed to be able to ask Dad one or two questions for clarification.

As I reflected on the past blogs, I thought the some readers would be interested in the ten postings that drew the most readers. Below I have listed the posting titles and links to each one.

The Best...
http://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-best.html

One of Oklahoma’s Finest Hours
http://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2015/04/one-of-oklahomas-finest-hours_19.html

The Christmas Tree – The Wish Never Granted
http://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2013/12/the-christmas-tree-wish-never-granted.html

Proverbs, Pupils, and the Preacher
http://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2016/06/proverbs-pupils-and-preacher.html

The Scariest New Year’s Day
http://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-scariest-new-years-day.html

Only in the Country
http://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/09/only-in-the-country.html

Remembering Steven Glenn Gates
http://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/08/remembering-steven-glenn-gates.html

When a Big Bender Kept a Man From Blowing Away
http://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2015/05/when-a-big-bender-kept-a-man-from-blowing-away.html

Not Much of a Wedding
http://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/03/not-much-of-a-wedding.html

Why Observe Good Friday
http://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/04/why-observe-good-friday.html

Finally, thanks to the many readers who have left meaningful comments. Several of you have conveyed to me that you enjoy the weekly blog posting. I appreciate those of you who have given information or photographs for some of the past blogs. My sister has been a driving force to get the blog to most of you. Thank you, Angie!

       Every blog posting I have written holds a special meaning, usually because those featured in the posting are much loved. Many of the past blogs postings have come to my mind during this week. However, one of the postings has been in my thoughts considerably. It was entitled The Chocolate Rabbit. It focused on an event in my mother’s life as a child. Her actions revealed what a little thinker she was. At age 91, she continues to be "wickedly smart." Here is a link to this posting: http://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/04/the-chocolate-rabbit.html

Mother in one of the
earliest photos taken
of her.

Long-Ago Friendships in the Bend

A Couple of Grandma’s Tried and True Friends From Her School Days

          Gladys Vivian Rainey Smith, my maternal grandmother, came to the Bend over 100 years ago. She often said the grass was taller than a man on a horse when they arrived. Only hearty and tough, pioneer-type people ventured into the lower bend of the Arkansas River in Osage County of Oklahoma. The neighbors of William and Rosa Rainey were either gutsy, a bit “criminal,” trying to escape something or someone, or just downright enterprising.
         Grandma always began the early day stories about her family in the Big Bend by saying they lived on Ralph Dooley’s place. Some of the families in the west side of the Bend were the Harneys, the Biermans, the Buxbaums, the Days, and the Goads. The Myers family, the Miller family, and the Forbes families were also living in the Bend at that time. These families, along with many others, were listed in the 1910 United States Census for Bighill Township in Osage County. (My grandparents, Edmund Gates, Sr. and Mamie Irene Tripp, were also recorded in this census since they were both in the Big Bend even though they had not gotten married yet. Since Grandma Mamie Irene Tripp Gates and her family lived on a place not far from my mother's farm, she attended the Belford Grade School on the east side of the Bend.)*
          The original Woodland schoolhouse was located in the timber, across the road to the west from the present home of Bob and Ruth Ann Hightower. Grandma only mentioned one teacher teaching the pupils in the days she attended. Later the student population increased enough to have three teachers when the new school building with three rooms was erected on the land now owned by Lester Anson.
          The kids, from the west side of the Big Bend who attended the original Woodland School in 1912-1915, came from diverse backgrounds. Most of the parents had been born in other states or even other countries. However, many of the children in the 1910 census records were born in Oklahoma. In truth, they had been born in Indian Territory or Oklahoma Territory prior to Oklahoma’s statehood entry on November 16, 1907, when the two territories united.
         Grandma told of one of her earliest teachers, a single, young man who was courting a young lady living in Pawhuska, the county seat of Osage County. With Osage County being the largest county in Oklahoma and the Big Bend community being in the extreme southwest of the county and Pawhuska being centrally located in the large county, the novice teacher had a horseback ride of around 45 miles – one way! Needless to say, the teacher experienced sleep deprivation and caught a power nap during the lengthy noon recesses. Here is where the story got more interesting.
          The napping teacher left unsupervised the Woodland students ranging from 6 to 14 years of age. Grandma’s younger brother, Gene, the baby of the Rainey family, was one of the youngest students. He hated the sight of blood.
          Bullies have also been a part of society, preying on the smaller, weaker, and more fearful. Such was the case at Woodland Grade School in the early days when the Rainey children attended. One of the older boys learned of Gene’s fear of blood and would bloody Gene’s nose on purpose to see him get upset and cry.
          During one of the prolonged noon recesses, Gene’s nose was bloodied by the schoolyard bully. As soon as Grandma heard the bully bragging about making Gene cry, though she was near the door of the schoolhouse, she never thought of reporting the incident to the sleeping educator. Instead, Grandma, the fearless defender of the intimidated and maligned, especially her baby brother, reached deftly inside the school doorway and grabbed the baseball bat from its storage spot. She picked up the bat stealthily, but quickly, and as Grandpa would say, “coldcocked” the perpetrator (according to the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary, the meaning of “coldcock” is “to knock out someone with a hard punch”). As the older student began to regain consciousness, Grandma saw his hand inch toward a rock within his grasp, she tapped his hand with the bat, and said, “Don’t even think about it!” He withdrew his hand immediately. About that time, the dozing teacher roused, rang the bell, and began the afternoon instruction. The lessons proceeded with no interruptions.
         When Grandma moved to the Bend with her family from Konawa, her strong-willed, tenacious spirit bonded instantly with Maud Harney, a girl with a similar personality. Their friendship strengthened and supported both girls through their adolescent years. Maud was sandwiched between three big, teenage brothers and two younger brothers. Grandma characterized her close friend as sturdy and tough, made so by growing up with her five rowdy brothers.
         At the end of the school day, the students headed onto the sandy roads to their little pioneer-type homes. Grandma was riding on a horse behind her dear friend, Maud. The two friends recounted the day of learning as they laughed and enjoyed the leisure ride south to their homes as the gentle pony plodded through the mere trail of a road. Suddenly, an enormous club shot out of the dense timber with the force of a speeding bullet, knocking both girls off the horse into the sand. Grandma said Maud took control.
         Maud sat flat in the sand, doubled up her fists, and yelled, “Come on out, you cowards. I’ll fight you and beat you up from right here!” No one emerged from the wooded area to accept her challenge. Grandma never mentioned that Gene was bullied again.
         Sometimes we glorify the “good old days” beyond what they actually were. Such was the case of some of the neighbors of the Rainey family. Even by today’s standards, this neighbor family would have been categorized as “dysfunctional.”
         The husband drank alcohol and would get angry at his wife. He was known to have shot the eyes out of his wife’s portraits. Each time his drinking turned threatening, his little stepdaughter jumped on her pony and rode like the wind to the Rainey house. She skidded her horse to a stop and leaped off the animal. With her little heart pounding furiously, she fled into the Rainey home and hid hurriedly under a bed. Apparently, her stepfather waxed poetic when drinking and would compose rhymes about the distance from their home to Bill Rainey’s house after he arrived there. Grandma’s family always took in “Babe” and provided the friend of my grandma sanctuary from a scary domestic situation. Ironically, Babe’s stepfather never seemed to become angry with Great-grandpa Bill Rainey. Somehow, maybe he knew his neighbors were protecting him from actions he would later regret.
          My own father said that Benders had a strong sense of right and wrong. Grandma Smith said in the early days of the Bend, the men upheld the law and protected their families themselves. Probably Babe's stepfather realized if he had harmed her, justice, as interpreted from the point of view of the Benders, would have been administered swiftly right on the spot. They didn't bother contacting Pawhuska in those days!

This photo appeared on a photographic
postcard, which was quite popular in the early
1900s. It was in my grandmother's photograph
collection. On the back was written in pencil,
"Your old friend and school mate - Babe Petrie."
 She addressed it to "Miss Gladys Rainey."

* To read of my paternal grandma's experience at Belford Grade School, click on the link to this posting entitled The Burial in the School Yard:   http://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/05/the-burial-in-school-yard.html