The First Rainey Grandson

            As the end of 1912 approached, December 30 marked the birth of the first grandchild of William Marion and Rosa Jarrell Rainey. His parents, Daisy Dean Rainey Rice and Ernest Emel Rice welcomed their first child, a son, Orlean Luther Rice.

            Two years later his sister, Hazel, was born. In the early part of the twentieth century, children started working and helping the family. In those days, as soon as a kid could walk and take directions, he started “earning his keep.”

            My grandma, Gladys Rainey Smith, became an aunt for the first time at age 12 at Orlean’s birth. In her upper teens, she supervised the potato harvest with Orlean and Hazel as her laborers. The two kids saw picking up potatoes as an opportunity for fun. Soon instead of adding to the harvested potato stash, Orlean and Hazel engaged in an all-out potato war. The dug potatoes sailed through the air from the hands of little Orlean and Hazel. Their Aunt Gladys declared war on them, enforced a potato war truce, and the two kids reluctantly resumed the potato collection. My grandma could never be classified as a “doting” aunt!

 When Orlean was almost 12, his first baby girl cousin on the Rainey side arrived. Even though she didn’t know it, her baby book records she enacted the part of Baby Jesus in the Belford Christmas program just days before Orlean’s 12^th birthday. Bernyce Smith Gates, my mother, was Orlean’s new little cousin.

Mother noted that her older cousin always seemed on the cutting edge in the 1930s and 1940s. He prized his phonograph cabinet and his record collection. Mother remembered it as a beautiful piece of furniture, much classier than other Benders had. She observed his younger siblings and cousins getting his ire up by getting too close to his cherished new technology.

Mother bragged on Orlean’s expertise at yodeling. Her own love of music enabled her to recognize his talent and admire how he honed his yodeling skill.

Mother’s little black diary even recorded visits and especially one night when the newlyweds, Orlean and his wife, Maxine, stayed all night at their house. She commented, “That was done more so back then than today.”

Orlean Rice holding their son, Bob, with Maxine, his wife, 
holding Wanda. Photograph from Gladys Rainey Smith's
collection.

          In late 1945, Mother agreed wholeheartedly to help Orlean and Maxine prior to the birth of their child, Revae Rice Baugh. (Even though Mother wrote my father, Edmund Gates, from 1942-1945 while he served in the Army Air Corps, she refused to consider marriage until he agreed to completely get out of the military. However, upon being discharged, he joined the Air Force Reserves so she was still single.)

While Maxine was on bed rest, Mother energetically took over the cooking, cleaning, and any tasks that Maxine needed done. She developed an even closer relationship with the family and especially with Wanda who was around age 7 and little Bob was around 5 years of age. She celebrated with the family when the baby sister, Revae, was born.

Orlean's baby daughter, Revae,
with the love of her life, Jimmy,
her late husband of 55 years.

            As an adult, Orlean's creativity impressed me. In his later years, I recall the keenest potato keeper that he made from wood for his mother, Daisy Rice, my great aunt. His daughter, Wanda, painted with an artistical flair the many wood-crafted items that Orlean made.

            His children, grandchildren, and friends could attest that Orlean taught them about determination and doing things well. An obstacle or set back was only an opportunity to stubbornly be more determined to accomplish his goal. He seemed to exude the axiom, If it’s worth doing at all, it’s worth doing right.

            Endurance and tenacity stayed ever-present in Orlean’s vocabulary. Perhaps his size had caused him to have that persistent endurance to achieve what others thought might have been impossible. Tenacity served as a springboard to launch him far beyond any apparent failure.

            As I reflected on the character qualities of determination, doing things well, and endurance, I recalled scriptural watchwords for us to live by.

            Paul reminded the unstable believers in Corinth of his teaching and his example. He encouraged them to remain unwavering in their belief that Jesus was the only One to proclaim and commit their lives to follow. He wrote in I Corinthians 2:2 the admonition below.

For I determined not to know anything among you except Jesus Christ and Him crucified.

            The principle of doing well in whatever is attempted did not begin with Benders in the early 20^th century but was commanded by the writer of Ecclesiastes in chapter 9:10.

Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with your might.

            Finally, endurance or in the vernacular of Edmund Gates – bulldog tenacity was addressed by Paul in I Corinthians 4:2 with his personal testimony:

We labor, working with our own hands. Being reviled, we bless; being persecuted, we endure. 

              With 2023 rapidly approaching, may we determine to make our focus Jesus and what His crucifixion accomplished for us and respond with a faithfulness in whatever He calls us to do for as long as He leads us to do it.

Grandma's Early Christmas Gift

 This week will mark 110 years since the birth of the oldest child in the Ed and Mamie Gates family. This is based on events surrounding his brief life as related to me by my father, Edmund Gates, Jr.

Little Robert

                The first of twelve babies was born to Edmund, Sr. and Mamie Irene Tripp Gates on December 19, 1912, making him almost a Christmas baby. They named their firstborn son Robert Bernard. Little Robert could have been named for Mamie Irene’s stepfather, Robert “Bob” Black. (See the blog post entitled An Unlikely Marriage on December 13, 1900 at https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2020/12/an-unlikely-marriage-on-december-13-1900.html.) Another possibility for the source of the new baby’s name may have been Robert Bell Gates, the uncle of Edmund, Sr. My grandfather, Edmund, Sr. had lived for some time with Robert and his family in Illinois. (See the blog post entitled Early Days of Edmund Gates, Sr. at https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2013/12/early-days-of-edmund-gates-sr.html.)

This is a photograph of the young family. The man at the extreme left of the

photograph is unidentified. To the right of the team of horses is Edmund Gates, Sr.

 Next to him is Little Robert and Mamie Irene Tripp Gates. This same house was 

featured in the blog post entitled Miracles at the Little House at https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/07/miracles-at-little-house.html.

                 My grandma always preceded his name with the adjective "little" when she talked of her first baby. In the late summer of 1914, Little Robert became ill with summer complaint, a case of acute diarrhea contracted by little ones mainly due to food contamination. It seemed to strike most frequently in the late summer primarily due to the lack of refrigeration and the excessive heat usually experienced in July and August. According to my father’s account, Edmund, Sr., his father, said Little Robert was about over his case of summer complaint. Then his in-laws, Bob and Nettie Black came to visit with their children. Grandpa told how one of Grandma’s half sister who was age 5, fed Little Robert green apples. This brought a recurrence of acute diarrhea leading to excessive dehydration that his little body could not overcome. On September 15 in 1914, my grandparents’ precious little firstborn son died. Thus, the first of many members of the Gates family was buried in Pixley Cemetery, a few miles from the land that would become the family farm in 1917

The first family portrait with Edmund, Sr. holding Little Robert
with Mamie Irene to their right.

               How difficult to fathom the excruciating anguish my grandparents must have experienced during those last days prior to Little Robert’s death when none of the remedies they tried eased the suffering of their little twenty-month-old toddler. It is hard to imagine how a nineteen -year-old mother would be able to walk away from the tiny grave in the cemetery on the lonely hill overlooking the Arkansas River.  Only other mothers who have buried one of their dearly loved children can empathize with the crushing internal pain that my grandma was feeling. 

                When little Robert was born so close to Christmas, how could Grandma, a young mother so much like Mary, the mother of Jesus, the Savior of the world, know how much sorrow she would experience with the death of this tiny one? Thankfully, God shields us from the sorrows of the future.

                Yet Mary heard prophetic words about her baby boy when he was only about six weeks old. She and Joseph faithfully followed the scripture to present this little one to the Lord at the temple in Jerusalem. A godly, elderly man, Simeon had been assured by God that he would see the Lord’s Christ before his death. After blessing the tiny Son of God, Simeon directed these words to Mary, “Yes, a sword will pierce through your own soul also, that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.” We can be thankful the Spirit of the Lord reveals our sinfulness and opens our hearts to receiving the sacrifice that pierced Mary’s heart as she mourned at the foot of her beloved Son’s cross. May we make known to all the gift of Jesus that is offered to receptive hearts. No better gift could be received at this season of giving and receiving.

The only baby portrait of Little Robert.
Grandma had written on the back: Robert
Bernard Five months, 16 days old. Notice
it was still the style to dress all babies
whether boys or girls in fancy, little white
gowns.

Tombstone marking the grave of Robert
 Bernard Gates in Pixley Cemetery in the  West
 Big Bend Community. (as seen on findagrave.com).

Marking 97 Years Since Aunt Martha's Birth

Martha moved with such grace and elegance. This photo
illustrates why she was a walking testimonial for Estee
Lauder at age 88. My sister told her she should get free
products from the company because of how great she
looked!

             Florence Martha Gates Johnston was born on December 12, 1925, at her family's home in the Big Bend community west of Ralston, Oklahoma. My father, Edmund Gates, Jr. was six years old when Martha arrived. He always said his older sister, Ella, who was almost 11 years old, was allowed to name his new baby sister. She named her Martha for one of her dearest school chums, a girl named Martha Frasier who also attended Woodland School. 

Mart, which was the name Dad frequently used for her, had another older sister, Mary who was 9 years old when Martha was born. Later, she would have two younger sisters. Julia would be born in 1933, and Mamie Marie, as Dad would say, came along in 1938. This placed Martha as the middle sister in the family. Her brother Jess was born two years before her, Herbert was born in 1928, and Jim was born in 1931.

                           Dad recounted Martha’s graduation from eighth grade at Woodland School in 1939. The rural school was located in the Big Bend where Lester Anson’s home now sets. The three-room school educated over 100 students yearly in first through eighth grades during the Great Depression Era. (See photo of Martha as a teen at left.)

            The spring rains were in full force in May of 1939, when the day of the climactic celebration of the school term was held. Graduations marked accomplishments of the scholars and called for accolades of praise for them. Today large cheering sections of family “whoop and holler” for their graduate. This was not to be for Martha.

            Every time my father retold the story he would say, “I really felt sorry for Martha since she had on her nice dress.” I have heard left-handed men are more sensitive than right-dominant males. Whether this is truth or an urban legend, I do not know. I do know my father was sensitive, not soft, but quite aware of others’ feelings. Martha’s soggy eighth grade graduation day was no exception.

                Dad took Martha to Woodland School on horseback in the rain from their home. He was the only family member who attended. Creeks were flooded along with bar ditches. Dad always intimated that it was a miserable day for a young lady to graduate. Nevertheless, he was glad to be there to act as her chauffeur and escort. 

Bernie, Martha's older son,
Martha, and Patsy, her only
daughter at the farm of Ed
Gates, Sr. in the 1950s.

             I updated Aunt Martha periodically on Dad’s condition following his stroke, One day when we visited, she explained to me why her photo was not on the 1943 senior panel of Burbank High School. The senior portraits were being taken during the height of cotton-picking season. 

            My father had already enlisted in the Army Air Corps, had finished stateside training, and would soon to fly across the Atlantic Ocean with his crew in the B-17 bomber, Target for Tonight so he was no longer available to help. Jess (By the end of that year, Jess would enlist in the Army Air Corps, too.), Herb, and Jim were left to help Grandpa get the cotton crop out of the field in a timely manner. She said, “I just felt like I should stay home from school and help my brothers.  

            Martha’s sensitivity to her brothers and the need for the family’s crop to get to the cotton gin superceded a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to have her picture taken for her senior class panel. Even though she was a teenager, she had already learned to think of others. Isn’t that what life is about?                

           Putting others first has always been a challenge to humans. Today it seems technology has isolated people. Sometimes this results in self-absorption and a disregard for those in close proximity and their needs.
            From volunteering for her three children's activities when they were young and even into their high school years to caring for neighbors and serving in her church, she put others first. She gave and gained much pleasure from one of her final, rewarding tasks - delivering Mobile Meals.
            Martha always cared deeply for her family. At least one time during every one of our telephone conversations, she would use a phrase to comment on the preciousness of something one of her children or grandchildren had done by saying, “Wasn’t that dear?” I heard that spoken almost every time we visited my grandma, Mamie Irene Tripp Gates.
            Each time we talked, she thanked Mother, Angie, and me for caring for Dad. She reiterated in each phone visit how she prayed faithfully for us. Many times she would lament she could no longer read very well or attend church, but she mailed her tithe to her church and prayed fervently every night.
            As I reflected since Aunt Martha’s death on March 8, 2019, a few verses from Jesus’a words of comfort to His closest earthly companions, His disciples, just prior to His crucifixion often come to mind. These are select verses from John 14.

Jesus said to him, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.  (verse 6)

“A little while longer and the world will see Me no more, but you will see Me. Because I live, you will live also.  (verse 19)

Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.  (verse 27)

Randy Johnston, Martha's younger son, with her
at the Gates Reunion in 2013.

                How important for us to remember that Martha would want us to be reminded that Jesus is the way to heaven and because He lives, we will live also. In this truth, we can rest

Unearthing the Eerie Connection Between Aunt Lou and Grandma Gladys

  Of the over 450 blog posts crafted this one holds the distinction as the most demanding to research and the most disturbing to write, but it seemed this true account testifies that individuals, like Grandma and families, like Aunt Lou's can press on with their lives after unimaginable brutality.

                I periodically visited in Fairfax with my aunt and uncle, Lou and Jim Gates when they lived there before Uncle Jim's death. Somehow Lou and I began discussing family of hers in Lamont, Oklahoma. She mentioned several surnames. Surprisingly, I heard her say the surname, “Gilbert.” I interrupted, “Gilbert?” and then I related that my grandma, Gladys Rainey Smith, had a roommate with the same name at Oklahoma A and M in 1919.

                She explained that her great grandmother’s maiden name was Gilbert. My eyes widened as I cautiously queried, “Did you say her family was from Lamont?” She affirmed this was correct.

Knowing how well Lou knew my maternal grandma, I told her that Ruth Gilbert had been one of my grandmother’s roommates. My grandmother, Gladys Rainey Smith, met Ruth, another student completing coursework prior to taking the teacher certification exam. Ruth hailed from Lamont. Whereas, Grandma and Lucy McCullough Summy arrived at Oklahoma A and M from the Ralston area. To read more about the summer of 1919 when two young women with Ralston connections were focused on teacher training, access the blog post at: http://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2015/06/summer-school-in-early-20th-century.html

Ruth Gilbert - photo from Gladys
Rainey Smith's Collection

I explained to Lou that Grandma had a photo of Ruth proudly displaying her teacher certificate given upon successfully passing the teacher test. Prospective teachers could  apply to take the required teacher exam upon completing the three-month curriculum offered in Stillwater. Then, almost in a hushed tone, I softly uttered, “But she was murdered!”

Without saying a word, Lou rose from her place on the couch, went to a cabinet, and opened a drawer. She pulled a plastic covering from the drawer. I could tell there were printed pages inside the bag.

She handed the protective bag to me and said, “This was the story of her murder. It appeared in a mystery magazine back then.”

For what seemed ten minutes, I was exclaiming, “Oh, Lou! Oh, Lou! Oh, If Grandma would have known, you two could have talked about Ruth.” Finally, I took a breath, allowing Lou the opportunity to tell that her paternal grandma, Mary Zone “Kittie” McCamant Dixon, and Ruth Gilbert were first cousins. To see Mrs. Dixon’s tombstone and a couple of photographs of her, go to: http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=28814042#.V_hSxDB6aVY.email

 Inda Ruth Gilbert, Grandma's roommate, married Arthur Carroll Utterback also from the Lamont area in 1926. Coincidentally, he was a younger brother to Mattie Gilbert McCamant Huffman, the great grandmother of my aunt, Lou Dixon Gates. Here is a link to learn about Lou’s great grandma: http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=28813978#.V_hSNcVfmOc.email
             In the 1930 Census of the United States, Ruth, at age 29, listed herself as a “census enumerator” and her husband’s occupation was accountant for an ice company. Their little boy, Hollis Gilbert, was age 3 on this document from Jackson County in Missouri. Nell, her youngest sister-in-law, was also a member of their household. She held a position as a bookkeeper and gave her age as 26.

As 1936 neared its end, Ruth and Arthur were realizing some of the dreams for which they had worked diligently and saved frugally. Arthur’s position for the United States Treasury as an examiner for the Federal Land Bank took him out of town occasionally. He and Ruth had bought a farm near Mulvane, Kansas. Their son, Hollis, age 9, and Harriet Gilbert, Ruth’s younger sister, age 11, were in school. Ruth with her musical inclination frequently traveled the twenty miles to the music conservatory in Wichita.

She and her family converted an implement storage shed on their newly acquired farm into temporary living quarters as they prepared to construct a new home. About ten days earlier, Joe Cain, a newly hired “handyman and guard,” moved into the bunkhouse on the property since Arthur had an upcoming business trip. The previous farmhouse had been moved from the property and Cain was assisting in cleaning up the debris from the existing foundation. A stock tank had also been removed, leaving a shallow pit. Broken bricks and other useless foundation remains were being used to fill the hole. Apparently, good bricks were salvaged, with the hope that the bricks could be repurposed in the new house construction. (“Fight a Stroud Parole.” The Kansas City Times. Kansas City, Missouri. Thursday, March 20, 1952. Page 30.)

On Wednesday, December 9, Cain, “acting mysterious and upset,” explained to Hollis and Harriet, upon their arrival from school, that Mrs. Utterback had traveled into Wichita with friends for a violin lesson and to withdraw money from a bank and would return by bus. He continued working at the pit and enticed the children to do the chores by paying them 15 cents. He fixed supper for them, ate with them, tucked them into their beds, and headed to the bunkhouse. Unknown to the children, Cain left in the Utterback car that night. (“Hired Man Sought in Slaying of Wife of Bank Auditor.” The Evening News. Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. Saturday, December 12, 1936. Page 9.)  (“Body of Murdered Woman Is Found in Kansas Farm Pit.” Miami Daily News-Record. Miami, Oklahoma. Friday, December 11, 1936. Page 1.)

The children dutifully went to school the next day, but no one was at home when the children returned from school. They noticed the car was gone. When the dark and the cold of the Kansas night fell, their empty stomachs and frightened little minds began to absorb the uncertainty of their situation. Hollis and Harriet ran to the security of the home of their nearest neighbors. Tears and fear spilled out as little Hollis sobbed, “Mommie isn’t home. We can’t find her.” Upon comforting and reassuring the children with a hot meal and soothing words, Mr. and Mrs. McBride realized all was not well. The four of them drove into the sheriff’s office in Wichita. (Quote from Hollis Utterback was taken from the unidentifiable copy of pages from a 1930s mystery magazine of an article entitled “24-Hour Start” by Charles R. Smith.)

Upon being contacted by the sheriff, Arthur Utterback reiterated adamantly that something was wrong. Even though Inda Ruth was known as a striking red-haired beauty, yet as a devoted mother, she would never leave the two children alone. After answering a few questions about Joe Cain, the near-sixty-year-old, “nice, old fellow,” her husband indicated Inda Ruth had characterized Joe Cain this way in a couple of letters mailed to him. Arthur Utterback assured the sheriff he would catch the next plane out of St. Paul, Minnesota. (Quote taken from the unidentifiable copy of pages from a 1930s mystery magazine of an article entitled “24-Hour Start” by Charles R. Smith.)

Then, almost as an afterthought, Mr. McBride suddenly recalled a scream he had heard from the direction of the Utterback property. He had passed it off as children playing, but Sheriff Boone interrupted, “School isn’t out until 4 o’clock.” (Quote taken from the unidentifiable copy of pages from a 1930s mystery magazine of an article entitled “24-Hour Start” by Charles R. Smith.)

Immediately, the sheriff, his deputies, and police officers from the Wichita Police Department, accompanied by concerned farm neighbors, began scouring the Utterback farm for clues to the disappearance of Ruth Gilbert Utterback. Sheriff Boone insisted digging be done at the pit where Joe Cain had worked past dark the night before. Beginning at midnight well into Friday morning, the men, working in shifts, excavated the bricks from the pit.

A shout by one digger alerted the others to the heart-sickening news. The cold, dead body of the gorgeous wife of Arthur Utterback had been discovered. She had received several brutal blows to her face and head. To the untrained eye, it appeared that the binder twine had been used to strangle little Hollis’s dearly-loved mother.

Joe Cain seemed to be the prime suspect in the grisly murder. A sighting of the Utterback car came in from Udall. The wrecked car was reported in Cherryvale. A rooming house in Coffeyville contacted the authorities. Then a man matching Cain’s description tried to buy hair dye in Columbus, Kansas. Yet the alleged murderer avoided being caught in each town. Officers in Neodoesha recalled a former resident, a “small time gambler and floater,” who corresponded to the description of the sought-after killer. At least four states - Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, and even Nebraska – issued statewide alerts to concerned law enforcement and alarmed citizens. (“Finding Body Starts Search For Farmhand.” The Daily Capital News. Jefferson City, Missouri. Saturday, December 12, 1936. Page 8.)

A man matching the description of Joe Cain had slept at the Wichita YMCA on Saturday, December 12. He had signed out using the name J.S. Smith the next morning. J.S. Smith had remained in Wichita, less than 20 miles from the murder scene, on Sunday night at the Salvation Army facility and brazenly signed out with the same alias – J. S. Smith.

Finally a couple of the Sedgwick deputies got a break. Their sleuthing in Fredonia, Kansas, turned up unknown facts. The hired hand of the Utterback family was not Joe Cain or J. S. Smith but Joseph S. Stroud, a man with a family supposedly quarantined with scarlet fever. He had been listed in the 1930 United States Census as age 53, with a 45-year-old wife and four children - all under the age of 8. He was not even with the family in the 1920 United States Census, but only his wife and three children were enumerated. Stroud, his wife, and a young son, a toddler, and a baby composed the family in the 1910 United States Census.

Members of the Kansas Highway Patrol and Wilson County Sheriff Will Chamberlin located Stroud in the corner of a little garage on the outskirts of Fredonia. Stroud’s confession reportedly read as follows:

 “I thought about the robbery Tuesday night. Then I thought of my own destitute family. I thought the Utterback’s had a strong box with $400 in it. (He only found $4.00 behind a clock.) There was no one home Wednesday. The two children, a boy and a girl, had gone to school. I was working in the pit. She came to show me where to put the bricks. As she was standing in the pit, I hit her with a hammer. She screamed and I hit her twice more. Then I strangled her with my hands because she wasn’t dead yet. I tied a cord around her neck to make sure.” (“Farmer Admits Killing Woman to Get Money.” The Mexia Weekly Herald. Mexia, Texas. Friday, December 18, 1936. Page 12.)

Sedgwick County Sheriff Frank Boone believed Inda Ruth Gilbert Utterback was “not entirely dead” when Stroud buried her. During his trial, Stroud was quoted as testifying “they had scared me to death.” The county attorney, Sidney L Foulston countered, “No threats were used.” (“State Wins a Point.” The Emporia Gazette. Wednesday, March 17, 1937. Page 7.)

Within days of the murder, Stroud was charged with first degree murder and bound over for trial. In January, he was ruled “sane” with the trial beginning in Wichita, Kansas, on March 15, 1937.(“Stroud is Found Sane.” The Hutchison News. Hutchison, Kansas. Tuesday, January 26, 1937. Page 1.)

The State sought the death penalty. However, the jury could not reach a unanimous decision. Witin an hour of the jury’s finding, Judge Robert L. Ne Smith sentenced Joe Stroud to life in prison. Judge Ne Smith voiced his displeasure with the jury’s conclusion, “The court is sorely disappointed in this verdict. The human mind seems unable to imagine a fit punishment for so brutal a crime.”

Little nine-year-old Hollis experienced losing his mother in his childhood not only to death but to a violent action perpetrated by someone who fed him, tucked him in, and cruelly reminded him to anticipate the return of a mother that Stroud knew would never wrap her arms around that little boy again.
            What mental and emotional trauma this young boy must have endured! Unfortunately, in those days, there was little knowledge of the shock to loved ones of a victim and the residual effects of brutality and its lasting impact on those invisible casualties. Sadly, the only records located for Hollis Gilbert Utterback were a census record in the 1940 United States Census with him as a fourteen-year-old in the Kansas Home for the Feeble Minded and a death certificate. Hollis Gilbert Utterback’s final resting place is in Mount Vernon Cemetery at Lamont. He died at age 50. (Link to his gravesite: http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=52990296  )

 With my study of grief stages and experience with how children think, Ruth’s precious son must have questioned how he could have possibly not known what this evil man had done. Surely he struggled with understanding how he could have slept while his mother’s murdered body was in the shallow pit just steps from the shed where they were living. He likely thought, Why didn’t he kill me instead of my mommie?
            Grandma was shocked by the horrible news in December eighty-six years ago. She retained a yellowed newspaper clipping of the awful event. It told how Kansas authorities unearthed the lifeless body of her dear roommate, Ruth Gilbert Utterback.

From the clipping found
in Grandma's keepsakes.

Frequently, I have written of my grandma’s gutsy demeanor. As my dad would characterize her, she had “no quit” in her. Yet she covered every window that had no window treatments and wanted all draperies and blinds drawn when the sun went down. I recall if a knock came on the door after dark, she would get an ice pick if she had to approach the door. Even though she could shoot, I never recall her having a firearm in her hands as she answered the door. Grandma didn’t like being by herself. Somehow I think the vicious murder of her friend and roommate, Inda Ruth Gilbert Utterback, affected her profoundly.

As I have researched and written this, several thoughts have come to the forefront of my mind. Grandma and Lou could have shared so much about the tragedy in Lou’s family. What a comfort Grandma’s love for her friend, Ruth, might have brought to Lou’s Grandma Dixon if she and Grandma could have visited!

Then I wish I had known about these facts when Grandma was living. I don’t think she knew the additional evidence was available. She would just point to Ruth’s photograph in her album and tell how they attended A and M together. Grandma would say, “A hired hand killed her.”

Even as close as I was to Grandma, only during the additional research of the murder of her friend and roommate have I understood what a major life event this was for her. I wonder how many relatives, friends, or Sunday School or Bible School students realized she experienced this horrific loss in her mid-30s.
            I have already related how difficult this has been for me. I prayed for insight to understand some redeeming value for revisiting this 86-year-old crime. First of all, learning more about this brutal attack on someone who Grandma called "friend"  reveals the importance of how a person's past experiences can impact her present life. For this reason, learning of a person's past and how it has formed that individual's opinions, reactions, and responses affords a glimpse into what makes that person "tick."
            My heart broke for Hollis Gilbert Utterback, partly because most of the students I taught were around his age. It appears that this young boy wrestled with "post traumatic stress disorder"! Do we support effective programs that actively get help for those who have endured catastrophic experiences?
            During one bright moment in a dismal cesspool of research, I discovered one of the convicted murderer's sons served in England in the 8th Air Force, earned a degree from a Kansas college, taught in Kansas, both in a high school and a community college. He led a life that contributed to his family, his community, his church, and innumerable young people. Instead of replicating irresponsibility, instability, dishonesty, desertion of family, and murder, Stroud's son changed the destructive course his father had set for the family. How important it was to allow Stroud's son to create his own reputation! May we never pigeon-hole people into stereotypical, preconceived opinions based on relatives' behavior, where the family lives, or idle gossip that circulates about the family.
            Finally, after deciding my research must conclude, I awakened thinking of the Apostle Paul and his self-description of himself as a murderer of Christians. He wrote in I Timothy 1:15-16:

This saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance:

Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners - And I am the worst of them.

But I received mercy because of this, so that in me, the worst of them,

Christ Jesus might demonstrate the utmost patience as an example

To those who would believe in Him for eternal life.
As viciously brutal as the Stroud slaying of Inda Ruth Gilbert was, according to Paul, anyone, no matter what egregious deed has been committed, can receive the mercy, grace, and forgiveness of Jesus. Those of us who have experienced the patience of God toward us, coupled with undeserved mercy and grace of which we are unworthy, can only whisper, "Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Lord, for forgiving me."