Barberin' in the Bend

Grandpa as a Barber

March 13, 2018 marks 114 years since my grandfather’s birth. Grandpa lived in the Hickory Grove community in Eastern Oklahoma in his earliest days. In 1894, the year of his birth, Hickory Grove was in Delaware District in the Cherokee Nation. The Dawes Rolls recorded Grandpa’s degree of Cherokee blood as one-half. He had been named for his paternal grandfather. More about my fascinating great-grandfather can be accessed at https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2016/05/its-more-than-first-holiday-of-summer.html Soon after the final Dawes Rolls were concluded, the land of the Cherokee Nation would be divided among the original allottees of the Cherokee people.

My grandfather, Calvin Callcayah Smith, gained experience as a carpenter in the notorious lead mines of Picher, Oklahoma during his 20s. Following the death of his father, Walter Smith, Grandpa migrated to Osage County at the apex of  the rough and tumble days of the oil boom. He continued utilizing his carpentry skills to construct the wooden derricks for the wildcatters who had been drawn by the gushers in the Burbank field. To learn more about his early days in Osage county, access the blog posting entitled Did the Warmest January in Oklahoma During the 20^th Century Cause This? https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2015/01/did-warmest-january-in-oklahoma-during.html

Within the year, Grandpa had married Gladys Vivian Rainey on July 23, 1923. After their marriage, my grandparents lived in Picher where Grandpa resumed working in the lead mines. Before the birth of my mother, Bernyce, in October of 1924, they moved into the Big Bend community, planting their roots deep into rocky soil of the Osage.

Grandpa farmed, with Grandma by his side, during the 1920s. They continued during the oppressive Great Depression planting in the hard-crusted soil, praying for just enough rain to have just enough pasture for the cattle and to produce just enough from the garden to subsist. World War II improved the economy, but unfortunately exacted a toll that devastated several families of young men from the Bend.

During the Depression, no money for extras could be found by Benders. Grandpa became the community barber. His youngest brother, Walter Smith, cut men’s hair professionally in numerous barbershops he owned in eastern Oklahoma including Chouteau and Miami. Grandpa, however, never charged for the clipping and snipping he did.

Walter J. Smith, a favorite
 uncle of my mother's. He died
suddenly when only 49 years
old. I located a letter written
just months after Walter's death
 to my grandma from Margaret
 Ewers, the youngest sister of my
grandpa. Her grief over "Wadie"
permeates the letter. 

Interestingly, Sunday seemed to be the favorite day for people to come to their home for haircuts. This routine gradually began to change after my grandparents’ salvation. They began faithfully attending church each Sunday. Soon Benders that arrived early on Sunday morning found an invitation extended to them to accompany my grandparents to worship and then get their hair cut in the afternoon.

My mother, Bernyce Smith Gates, recalled one haircut that turned their home upside-down. A mild-mannered man with a headful of bushy hair turned up for a cut. To her horror, my grandmother discovered head lice infestation as the hair fell to the floor of their home! Grandpa, a man of extremely few words, hadn't said anything, but just kept cutting.
Thankfully, the lice sighting predated the days of carpeting. As soon as the man with his new haircut exited their front door, Grandmother began intense, deep cleaning. That was the only time Mother remembered the “barber battling bugs.” Ironically, even though most people in the Bend were "living from hand to mouth" at that time, head lice were extremely rare, as Mother  characterized, "almost unheard of."

All haircuts were done pro bono. Grandpa was not the only one who did things free of charge. Stories were told of Depression-era farmers with early day trucks loaded with Benders whom they had “gathered” as they headed toward town on Saturday. By the time they crossed the Belford Bridge over the Arkansas River, the truck beds with sideboards were packed to capacity with people eager for a lift to town. Perhaps it was the closest this area would ever get to an Uber service.

Coincidentally, as I crafted this blog posting, I met and visited with Bryan “Junior” and Shelly Badley Hutchison. Bryan recalled my grandparents. Then he said, “You know Gladys delivered my half-brother Richard in a little house north of that little bridge just east of your mom’s house.” That was in 1937. (In Oklahoma, a fee for a midwife's service range from $2,000-3,500 according to a Channel 8 - KTUL news story.) To read more about Grandma’s nursing for free, access one of my blog postings at https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2015/06/summer-school-in-early-20th-century.html

I have benefitted from neighbors’ generosity frequently since moving back to the Big Bend. I seek to respond with heartfelt gratitude, knowing there is no way to repay the kindness shown to Mother and me. “To boil it down” as Dad would say, Mother and I would not have been able to remain on the farm without neighbors and friends bailing us out of crisis situations. Other Benders have supported and encouraged us by doing things that had to be done, but we could in no way do by ourselves.

God’s Word addresses helping those in need much like the impoverished during the Great Depression. In the book God inspired King Solomon, the wisest man who ever lived, to write a proverb on the topic.

He who is gracious and lends a hand to the poor lends to the Lord,

And the Lord will repay him for his good deed.

Proverbs 19:17

A week never passes without Mother and I expressing to each other how grateful we are for so many who have helped us. It also seems each week a situation arises in which, no matter how creative we are, we are powerless to solve our problem by ourselves. Yet God is faithful to provide people willing to help us with joyful hearts. These people put into practice Solomon’s admonition.

Do not withhold good from those who need it, when you have the ability to help.

Proverbs 3:27

Not everything about the Great Depression was bad. A helping community warms many hearts - the givers and the recipients.

Walter J. Smith (the youngest brother of Grandpa), Jack Ewers
(the husband of Grandpa's youngest sister, Margaret), Grandpa
(Calvin Callcayah Smith), Edmund Gates, Jr., my father.
This photo was taken in the 1950s when we lived on the Omer
 Jefferson, Jr.'s place just south of where Mother's farm is now.
Notice the adirondack chair in the background. My grandpa,
Calvin Callcayah Smith, built two at the request of Grandma.