The Wedding Disaster

February 26 will be the 111th wedding anniversary of Daisy Dean Rainey and  Ernest E. Rice. The wedding day was a bit shaky, but the marriage proved to be solid as a rock. What a model for young men and young women of today determining to enter into the covenant of marital commitment!

                According to the United States Census Records of 1910, my great grandparents, William Marion and Mary Rosetta Rainey were living in Konawa, Oklahoma. They had six children ranging in age from 6  to 16 years. Daisy Dean was the oldest.

                 Daisy, my grandmother’s oldest sister, often recalled, when visiting with us, the good days when growing up in Konawa. She took piano lessons while the family lived in Seminole County in the early days of Oklahoma. Aunt Daisy spoke wistfully about the enjoyment of attending high school as a teenager in 1910.

                Then her father, William Marion Rainey, became enamored with moving the family north. After seeing railroad cars loaded with corn on a trip to the areas inhabited by the Osage and Pawnee Indian Nations, Bill Rainey knew that part of the new state must be the promise land for his family.

                Rosa, his wife, interpreted the corn-ladened rail cars as a negative sign about these northern counties. She asked, “Bill, why are they shipping corn into good farming land?”

                He spouted his typical response, “Rosie, you’re a good worker but no manager.” The Rainey family had relocated to Pawnee County by 1911.

                Aunt Daisy lamented this move as long as I knew her. She regretted leaving that area of the new state of Oklahoma. Aunt Daisy always reminisced sorrowfully to her sister, Gladys, how those who bought their homestead near Konawa struck oil! My grandma, Gladys Rainey Smith, usually brushed off her big sister’s remorse over black gold.

                Even though Bill Rainey convinced Rosie to move north, much to Daisy’s dismay, not all was lost. On February 26, 1911, seventeen- year -old Daisy pledged her lifelong devotion to the young man who had stolen her heart, Ernest Rice. (Ironically, on the same 1910 census page as the Rainey family entry was the record for Jim and Minnie Rice and his brother, Ernest who also lived in the Konawa area. Ernest was 22 years of age.) The newlyweds celebrated their wedding in Pawnee County, Oklahoma, at her parents’ home.

Wedding Portrait of Ernest and Daisy Rice - original photograph at 
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/16367036/ernest-emel-rice

Her mother planned the best festive dinner she could for her oldest daughter’s marriage. The table was set, delicious food had been prepared, and all was ready for a joyful time. Then a nightmare for Daisy and her mother began to develop.

According to Daisy’s ten-year-old sister, Gladys, their beloved father convinced the groom and several of the young and old men in attendance to imbibe some type of alcohol. They actually drank enough to be staggering and quite inebriated. Grandma said her mother and Daisy were distraught and crying. The women at the wedding celebration were appalled at the men’s behavior on this memorable occasion. Typical of Bill Rainey, he tried to smooth it over with lightheartedness. That approach didn’t work well.

Despite the rocky beginning, young Daisy and Ernest settled into a partnership of hard work and love. Within a year or so, they moved across the Arkansas River to the Big Bend in southwest Osage County. Aunt Daisy never forgot how hard she and Ernest worked to clear “the 80.” This parcel of land was an 80-acre lease where the two of them toiled with backbreaking labor to meet the requirements of the lease. She recalled how she tied canvas on her feet to work with the man she loved to accomplish a near impossibility for only two – one a teenager and the other in his middle twenties. Daisy and Ernest, even though young, understood marriage to be a commitment to each other, no matter how hard or challenging the road became.

The thirty-eight years they shared before his death seemed all too brief for Daisy. Even though she went on to live almost 30 years without him, I sensed she felt incomplete without the man who provided strength, stability, and protection for her. Every couple could benefit from following the example of Daisy and Ernest Rice and in turn, our families, our communities, and our nation would be stronger.

The original retelling of the Rainey/Rice wedding was published in February of 2016.

A Special Aunt Born on Valentine's Day

      Valentine's Day this year will mark 120 years since the birth of my maternal grandmother's sister, Alice, born 18 months after Grandma. My mother dearly loved Alice and spent countless hours working and having fun with her aunt. Even at 97, Mother recalls precious times they had together (This originally posted on February 9, 2014).

    On February 14, 1902, in Sacred Heart, Oklahoma Territory, Alice Vertle Rainey was born to Mary Rosetta and William Marion Rainey. She already had two older sisters, Daisy Dean and Gladys Vivian along with one older brother, Lewis Elbert, and one deceased sister, Della.

      When just a young child, Alice contracted measles, and complications from this disease caused a permanent visual impairment and skin irregularities. Seemingly, even though she could read large print and could write with larger letters, her education was limited due to her limited vision.

Left to right - Emma Maryann Rainey, Eugene Robert Rainey, & Alice Vertle Rainey. In the
forefront is Ethel Robinson, a family friend. (Thanks to Lou Brock for restoring this photograph.)

      This didn’t stop Alice from being a terrific cook, good housekeeper, and quite handy with the outdoor chores. One family story associated with her scrumptious cream pies involved her younger brother Gene. Alice had made a couple of cream pies anticipating “company” coming for Sunday dinner. To her chagrin, she set them out to cool, went for a visit, and returned to find her generous brother had taken them and shared with neighbors. She had a few choice words for him.

      Alice loved a good laugh, joking, and teasing, but as the above recollection reveals, she had the quick temper and tongue known to be present in the Rainey DNA! During an incredibly bitter cold snap, she was milking a cow, shivering in the frigid temperature and battling the howling wind when her father, a known prankster and joker, advised off-handedly to her, “Why don’t you get behind that barbed wire fence to warm up?”  No disrespect was intended, but Alice retorted to him using words that women in the early 20^th century were never to use.

Alice Rainey in her teens.

       William Marion Rainey died in August of 1931. My grandma and Alice were impacted by the death of their beloved father. Perhaps for the first time, the two of them faced their own mortality. Because of this, they were both converted under Brother Stalling’s preaching at the Belford Sunday School in September of that same year and then were baptized. The word converted in that day and time meant that Alice and Gladys, my maternal grandmother, recognized they were sinners on a wrong path and asked Jesus to convert or change their lives enabling them to walk in His way.
       Alice’s youngest sister, Emma became a young widow and was alone without her adoring husband, facing providing for herself. She accepted a position of responsibility in the Government Printing Office in Washington, D. C. Emma had many suitors from bankers to railroad conductors to other men of prominence from many walks of life. Alice took great delight in teasing her sophisticated sister about these high-class, big city men.
        Alice died on July 8, 1951, in the Pawnee Hospital following a diagnosis of stomach cancer. Mother recalls the void her death left in the Rainey family, especially for her grandmother, Rosa, age 81, with whom Alice had lived all her life.
        I have heard from family members who knew and loved Alice how spirited and fun loving she was. She loved children, and they responded to her. My mother spent much time with her and never heard her complain about her blindness or use it as an excuse for being unable to attempt and accomplish a task. Over sixty years ago, Alice died before reaching the age of 50. Yet her life stands as a life to be patterned, with an absence of grumbling but a commitment to bring happiness and love to others.
        Valentine’s Day, Alice’s birthday, is all about love and giving love to others. Alice Vertle Rainey stands as a “Sweetheart” of expressing love, never seeking to receive love in return, but just loving others with all her heart.

Alice Rainey visiting with Edmund Gates, Jr. in the yard of the
Rainey home.

Ironically, Comparison Can Stiffen One's Resolve

Dad while in basic training at Sheppard Field in Wichita
Falls, Texas, from late 1941 until April of 1942.

          As I anticipated the most recent winter storm, the forecast gave hope it would only last three-four days with its wintery precipitation and subfreezing temperatures. Relativity and comparison played a role in my hope. Since last February of 2021, I compare all weather to that record-breaking lengthy streak of bitterly cold temperatures.

 My father, Edmund Gates, Jr., often compared what he was experiencing with much more challenging times earlier in his life. When this came to mind, I pulled his World War II military memoirs from the shelf. In Okie Over Europe, I turned to the second chapter and began reading of his basic training at Sheppard Field north of Wichita Falls, Texas. My eyes fell on these words capturing his experiences 80 years, ago.

The only marching he did was twice a day to “chow” in step with the cadence that he heard as he marched. Sheppard Field, a new base in 1942, was quite undeveloped; this made the predawn marching from the barracks to the chow hall for breakfast difficult over the rough terrain. It went from bad to worse in rainy weather when the ground became quite slick and muddy, creating a miry challenge for Dad and the other young recruits.

Often, he saw masses of ground troops training on a separate forty acres of the base. These army recruits dressed in fatigues appeared to Dad like a huge, gray lethargic creature moving across the landscape as they marched. This was just another reason for Dad to applaud himself for choosing the relatively new army air force.

Calisthenics were required daily. Dad considered it a “snap” for a farm boy acquainted with a rigorously demanding work regimen. At home on the farm, he had worked from daylight to dark seldom taking a day off. His day had begun milking cows, working hard all day usually in the field, and climaxed the day milking the same six to eight cows. It was during basic training that Dad learned what the phrase “time off” meant. He could just relax on his bunk when not involved in training. He had not done much of that at home on the farm.

Dad had very little KP duty or kitchen police duty during his military stint. He did have one experience of being caught dousing a large basket of flatware in a sink full of water. He had assessed and decided this was the most time-efficient method of washing them. After all, with two older sisters and three younger sisters, he had no experience at home with the correct method of doing chores like this. Dad was told by the sergeant in charge of the kitchen, “Soldier, get around here and wash them one at a time. We’re in for the duration. What’s your hurry?” The only KP duty he was assigned during his entire military career was a couple of weeks while at Sheppard Field north of Wichita Falls, Texas.

It brings a smile to my face as I recall Dad being the only veteran I knew who characterized his basic training as a “vacation.” When he compared his experience on the farm, the requirements in the military paled. Often, this approach of comparing the demands of a present challenge with a past one gave him courage and strength. This week, Dad’s practice of diminishing the difficulty of a present incident by comparing it with the past memory of a much more trial-ladened occurrence stiffened my resolve during the cold weather. It certainly provided some emotional and mental comfort and strength when I practiced Dad’s method this week.

Paul wrote of comparisons in Romans 8:18. He compared sufferings to the future glory awaiting believers with these inspired words. 

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.

Here on earth, others viewing our difficulties frequently give glory to God. What more could a believer desire! May our meditation on this verse bolster our strength and courage no matter what we face.