Mother's Story, Chapter 7

Riding back to Friona, Texas from Hot Springs, New Mexico, in the back seat of Orville and Charlotte Putnam’s Model T, Willie Mae once more faced an uncertain future. She longed to see her parents, but didn’t want to move back home after tasting independence.
When they arrived at Ennis‘s, she felt delighted to see her parents’ car in front of the house. Orville carried her suitcase in while she told Charlotte goodbye. “I’m so glad the baths helped. You keep walking every day, and if I can help you while I’m here, please let me know.” Willie Mae opened the car door so she could give the older woman a hug.

“Thank you, Bill. I plan to go for a walk after breakfast and after supper every day. Join me any time you can.” Charlotte patted Willie Mae’s back.

Orville climbed back in the car. Willie Mae leaned across Charlotte and extended her hand. “Thank you, Orville. I’ll never forget this month with Charlotte.”

He shook her hand, tipped his hat and put the car in gear. “You’re welcome, Willie Mae - uh - Bill. Thanks for taking care of my dear wife. She is definitely stronger.”

As they drove off, Willie Mae turned and hurried to the house where everyone waited to exchange warm Cummings kisses. “I’m so glad to see you, Mama. You, too, Dad. What a wonderful surprise.”

Dad hugged her, then held her by the shoulders at arms length. “You’re looking fit, Daughter.”

Mama measured Willie Mae‘s upper arms with her fingers. “How much weight did you gain? You remind me of that Chesterfield radio ad: ‘so round, so firm, so fully packed.”

Willie Mae blushed and laughed. “Bathing in the hot springs with Charlotte every day gave me a big appetite. And the hotel provided a lot of food to satisfy it.”

Mama and Dad expected her to go home with them the next day, but she decided to accept Ennis and Jewell’s invitation to stay and help out on the farm. Mama teared up when she kissed Willie Mae goodbye. “All my little chicks are leaving home.”

Willie Mae felt a twinge of sadness, but smiled. “I’ll be home in a few weeks. You’re not rid of me yet.” Dad’s hug seemed a little fiercer and longer than usual. She buried her face in his neck, inhaling the familiar aroma of shaving soap and Prince Albert pipe tobacco. Tears welled up as she realized Mama was right. Willie Mae was determined to find her own way now. I’ll be home, but just for visits in the future.

* * *

She and Jewell harvested and canned green beans, sweet corn and tomatoes. The rows of green, yellow and red vegetables in glass jars on shelves in the cellar looked beautiful. The two women dug up potatoes and stored them in burlap bags.

Mornings, after Ennis milked their cow, Willie Mae helped him separate the cream from the milk. She used the cream to churn butter, packed the butter into a rectangular wooden form that made one-pound cubes. Wrapped in waxed paper, the butter and quart bottles of buttermilk were stored in the well house. Jewell’s neighbors came to the house to buy them, along with eggs. After Ennis milked in the evening, he brought the bucket of warm milk into the kitchen, where Willie Mae or Jewell strained it through cheesecloth, poured it into bottles and stored it in the ice box for the family.

“How do you manage all this work without help?” Willie Mae strained and bottled milk while Jewell cooked supper. Willie Mae remembered thinking that Jewell was gruff when they first met because her manner was so serious. She seldom smiled. Now Willie Mae knew Jewell had a heart of gold.

“I just work later at night,” Jewell shrugged. “I’m so glad you stayed to help. Tomorrow is Saturday. Let’s go to town. I made enough money this week to pay you a little. You can buy some material to make a new dress for fall.”

“Why, thank you, Jewell.” Willie Mae bent her knees, lowering herself to her sister-in-law’s height, put her arms around her and squeezed, pressing Jewell’s large bosom into her smaller one.

The next day, after shopping at the dry goods store, they took the children to the drug store for an ice cream soda at the fountain. While they waited for their drinks, they sat on wire chairs with wooden seats and admired the dark blue light-weight wool yardage and white braid trim Willie Mae had chosen.

Behind her, Willie Mae heard a woman’s voice, “Is that you, Bill Cummings? What are you doing here?”

Turning, Willie Mae recognized a stylishly dressed young woman with dark waves and a wide lip-sticked smile. “Hi, Ruby. Can you join us? Have you ordered? Oh, this is my sister-in-law Jewell, and her children Dorothy Sue and Doyle.”

As Ruby acknowledged the introductions, Willie Mae stood to pull over an extra chair from a nearby table, then explained to Jewell. “Ruby and Elma taught together two years ago.” Jewell nodded and looked pleased that Willie Mae had a friend near her age in town.

After they all had their sodas, Ruby turned to Willie Mae. “Why don’t you stay in town with me tonight? I have a date, and I can call him to bring someone to go with you. We’re going to dance at the hotel over in Clovis.”

Raising her eyebrows, Willie Mae looked at Jewell hopefully.

“It’s fine with me and I’m sure Ennis won’t mind.” Turning to Ruby, Jewell asked, “Can you bring her to the Church of Christ for services tomorrow?”

Ruby clapped her hands. “Sure. It’s the church I grew up in, and I’ve been thinking I should start going there. Now I won’t have to walk in alone the first time.”

Willie Mae looked down at her clothes. “Is this all right to wear to the Clovis Hotel? It’s a long way out to the farm to change.”

“Don’t worry.” Ruby waved in a dismissive gesture. “We’re close to the same size. You can wear one of my dresses. Your shoes are perfect.”

Glad for the diversion, Willie Mae suspected Ennis and Jewell would be happy to have just their family in their tiny house for a change.

She and Ruby went to Ruby’s duplex apartment. Ruby called C.F. Brownlee, her date for the evening. “Hi, Honey. I ran into a girlfriend who’s visiting Friona. Can you bring a friend for her tonight?” After a pause, she added , “She’s beautiful, blonde and a lot of fun. He‘d better be handsome and well-mannered.” Willie Mae blushed, as Ruby laughed and hung up the phone.

The young women spent the afternoon exchanging facials and manicures. As they finished, another friend of Ruby’s, Nona, arrived. She came through the front door without knocking. Before Ruby had a chance to introduce her, she blurted, “I finally got a date for the dance in Clovis tonight.”

“Have a seat so I can introduce you to Bill Cummings.” Ruby indicated a burgundy velvet easy chair. “C.F.’s getting her a date for tonight as well.

“ I’ve never met a girl named Bill before.” She went on before Willie Mae could reply. “I don’t really care for my date.” She picked up a nail file and smoothed the edges of her fingernails. “There’s only one boy in this town I want to go with.”

Ruby looked quizzical. “Who’s that?”

Nona rolled her eyes dreamily and sighed, “Joe Hale.” She dropped the nail file back on the table and rose. “Nice to meet you, Bill. See you both later in Clovis.” She disappeared out the door as quickly as she’d appeared.

When Ruby’s date arrived, Ruby introduced him. He, in turn, introduced the good-looking man at his side as Joe Hale.

“Oh, la-de-da,” thought Willie Mae. “I guess I’ve hit the jackpot.”

Riding beside Joe in the back seat of C.F.’s Chevrolet, Willie Mae and Joe talked non-stop for the 30 miles from Friona, Texas, to Clovis, New Mexico. She had to explain one more time how she came to be called Bill. He in turn told her that he worked for his niece’s husband, the wholesale agent for Phillips Petroleum Company.

The life of the party that night, Joe told stories that kept the others laughing. “I was much younger than my sisters and brother. One time when I was three, I crawled into my mama’s quilt box and pretended to be a chicken. My mama and older sisters looked everywhere for me, calling frantically. They finally decided I that fell in the river and washed away. They were crying hysterically when I cackled from the quilt box. My sister Minnie grabbed me and shook me. ‘Why didn’t you answer us when we called you?‘ I said ‘Couldn’t. I was a chicken and I couldn’t cackle until I laid an egg.’”

On the dance floor, he made Willie Mae feel like she was a wonderful dancer and was meant to be his partner. By the time he walked her to Ruby’s door, Willie Mae was smitten. She dreamed that night of his face: laughing hazel eyes, high cheekbones, prominent nose, dark complexion contrasting with light brown hair. She’d indeed hit the jackpot with this blind date.

* * *

The rest of the summer was a whirlwind of work on the farm, including helping to hoe Ennis’s maize crop and to haul water to the plants. The small harvest was better than many Dust Bowl farms managed that year. One night a windstorm covered the fence to the cow’s pen with sand. Molly the cow walked over the fence and the family had to go looking for her in the neighboring fields the next morning.

One evening the week after their blind date, Joe visited Willie Mae. They sat on a bench under a cottonwood tree in the yard. Sharing stories of their families and growing up on Texas farms, they found similarities and differences in their lives.

“I grew up on a farm on the Salt Fork of the Brazos River, where my dad raised horses. Since this drought started, there’s no grass and he can’t afford to buy hay, even if you could find any. He’s practically giving away horses to whoever can afford to feed them.” Joe laughed. “Luckily, my niece’s husband could give me a job this summer, but looks like that might not last long. Farmers can’t pay for their gasoline until their crops come in, and the crops don’t look good. I’m warning you, Bill, I’m going to be poor for a few years.”

Willie Mae snuggled as close to his broad shoulder as she could get. “Don’t worry, Joe. I think you’re going to do just fine.” It was true. Something about being with him made her feel secure. “Tell me about your niece and her family. What‘s her name?”

“Eula Mae. Her mother, my oldest sister, died when she was four. She’s just six months younger than me. My mother took her to raise until Mama died when we were 16. Eula Mae’s father had the neighboring farm, so she was back and forth between the two places. Since I’m a lot younger than my brother and sisters, she’s the one I grew up with.”

“I like her middle name,” Willie Mae joked. “How about her husband? Is he good to work for?”

Joe smiled “Yeah, he is. Last week, Eula Mae got mad at me and said I was fired. She has quite a hot temper. I said something she didn’t like when I was home for lunch. I didn’t go back to work, and her husband, Tiny Magness, came to find out why. I said, ‘Your wife fired me.’ He said, ‘I do the hiring and firing for my business. Now get back to work.’” Joe laughed.

* * *

Ruby told Willie Mae that Joe had gone with Tiny’s sister Marie for a time. “C.F. thinks she broke up with him because he wouldn’t go to the Baptist church with her.” Ruby paused. “He is a little wild, isn’t he?”

“I guess he is, but I really like him. He seems honest and I’ve never had so much fun in my life. He actually told me about Marie, after I met her. He took me to Eula Mae and Tiny’s house for supper last week, and Marie was there. She’s awfully pretty.”

“Well, Joe seems crazy about you, now. You two look great on the dance floor.”

They’d returned to the Clovis Hotel to dance several more Saturday evenings. One night, Jewell and Ennis left the children with neighbors and went along. That was the night that Joe drank enough to slur his words when he talked. When Ennis and Jewell left the dance, Jewell stood next to Joe’s chair, shook her finger close to his face and said, “Joe Hale, you’d better take care of this girl,” indicating Willie Mae. Joe laughed, but later said, “Your sister-in-law doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.”

Willie Mae denied it, but had an uneasy feeling it might be true.

Nevertheless, she was in love with Joe and believed, based on his attentiveness toward her, that he returned her love.

* * *

When Doyle started to school and the harvest was in, Willie Mae knew it was time for her to leave. They hadn’t said anything, but Ennis and Jewell didn’t need another mouth to feed in such hard times. She made the decision early in September and let them know she‘d need a ride to the bus on Saturday.

That night, Joe looked gloomy as he got out of the car. Willie Mae dreaded telling him she was leaving, and when she saw his face, her dread deepened. Was he going to break up with her?

She went to meet him.

“Hi, Bill.” He bent to kiss her lightly on the lips. “Tiny finally had to lay me off. There‘s just not enough money coming in for him to pay me.”

“Oh, no.” Willie Mae cupped his face in her hands. “I hate for you to look so sad. What will you do?”

“I’ll go live with Pop in Sagerton. I’ll write you, and come to get you as soon as I can so we can get married.”

Willie Mae’s heart leapt to her throat. “I’m going home, too. I’ll write you every day, Joe.” She kissed him tenderly. “I’ll be waiting. Impatiently.” She laughed.

“You know we’re going to be poor, don’t you? I just hope I can find some kind of job by Christmas. I want us to be married by then.”

Never had Willie Mae felt so happy and sad at the same moment. She finally knew what Shakespeare meant by “sweet sorrow.”

* * *

Back in Floydada, Willie Mae spent time every day writing letters to Joe. He answered with interesting letters telling her the news of his dad, Wiley Hale, whom the family called Pop, and his sister Juanita, called Nit, who lived near them.

In November, he wrote, “I still can only find odd jobs, but we‘re getting by. This week I’m unloading coal from the train. I want to come get you on December 20th. We’ll drive to New Mexico and get married. We can live with Pop until I find something more. I hope you’ll say yes, Bill. I miss you so much.”

Willie Mae replied by return mail, filling two sheets of paper with the word “yes”.

Mother's Story, Chapter 6

In June of 1932, a few days before her 20^th birthday, Willie Mae’s north-bound bus stopped in Hart, Texas Her sister Aileene farmed near there with her husband, Jack Smitherman. Four months earlier, Willie Mae stayed for two weeks to help Aileene when her baby girl, Patsy, was born. She took care of Patsy’s two-year-old sister, Polly. She’d love to see the babies today and always enjoyed visiting her adored older sister. Nevertheless, she decided to go directly to Friona to start her new job assisting Charlotte Putnam.

Hurt by her involvement with Fred Jenkins, this was the first time since then that Willie Mae anticipated her future. Excited and nervous, Willie Mae doubted she’d ever live with her parents again. After watching six siblings leave home and make their way in the world as adults, her time had come.

Elma, the fun-loving brother nearest her age, was just 19 when Dad signed papers allowing him to marry Vivian Sterling, who was not yet 18. Elma finished an accounting course and now lived in Canyon with Vivian and their two-year-old daughter, Elma Lynn.

Willie Mae’s brother A.D., who taught her world history in high school, was now superintendent of schools in Floydada. He and his wife, Rose Stewart, expected their first child soon. They were in Illinois, where A.D. was finishing a Masters Degree in education.

Willie Mae put the depression of her high school years and the heartbreak of Fred Jenkins behind her. She was at last on her own path.

The flat fields she watched from her bus window seemed alarmingly dry and dusty. She couldn’t remember when it had last rained. She picked up the newspaper Dad handed her as she got on the bus. Skipping the news of the presidential campaign, Willie Mae read about seventeen-thousand unemployed ex-servicemen who were living in tents near the White House. They had bonus certificates from World War I, and were trying to get a law passed forcing the government to cash them. More interesting to Willie Mae was the story of Amelia Earhart’s solo flight across the Atlantic. Most electrifying was that Jackie Mitchell, a 17-year-old girl, signed as a pitcher for the Memphis Lookouts, a minor league men‘s team. Jackie struck out the great Babe Ruth in four pitches and Lou Gehrig in three, in an exhibition game. Willie Mae felt optimistic. Women could do things they’d never been able to do before.

She folded the paper, thinking of her future. She’d asked Dad and Mama to send her to nursing school last year, but Mama said no, explaining, “I can’t stand to think of my daughter giving men baths.” Her new job helping Mrs. Putnam would be a little like nursing. Maybe it would lead to other opportunities.

* * *

“Give me a Cummings Kiss,” her brother Ennis held his arms out as Willie Mae stepped down from the bus. Behind him, his wife Jewell held Dorothy Sue, who was almost 4, in her arms. Doyle, 8, waited beside his mother. Willie Mae stooped to hug her sister-in-law, who was much shorter but able to extend an infinitely warm embrace. Her arms enfolded Willie Mae along with the little girl she carried on her left hip.

“Hi, Dorothy Sue. Look how you’ve grown!” Willie Mae kissed the soft cheek the child offered. Turning to Doyle, Willie Mae hugged him and they exchanged kisses on both cheeks. Warm happy greetings were a Cummings tradition.

They all drove the ten miles to Ennis and Jewell’s farm over a bumpy caliche road, leaving a trail of white dust hanging in the air behind the car. Willie Mae was again struck by the dryness of the fields surrounding them.

“When do Mr. and Mrs. Putnam want to leave for New Mexico?” Willie Mae was anxious to know more about the couple she’d be working for.

“I’m not sure. After supper, we’ll go over to their house and find out their plans.” Ennis turned into a lane bordered by small juniper trees Jewell had planted. Willie Mae was impressed at how hard her sister-in-law must’ve worked for that bit of beauty in the flat landscape. The long lane led to a tiny house the couple had built on this homesteaded land.

The house had just two large rooms. Half of the front room held the kitchen stove, ice box, pie safe, a small section of cabinets, a counter top with a sink and a homemade table with six chairs. The front door led to the “parlor” quarter of the room. Two easy chairs flanked a wind-up record player. Farther back were two beds and a chest of drawers. Both beds were cot-sized with cotton mattresses folded in half over flat metal springs. When more sleeping space was needed, the springs could be extended and the mattresses unfolded to make double beds. One of them had been folded out and fitted with fresh, ironed white sheets. Ennis and Jewell’s bedroom was in back.

“Bill, you’ll share Dorothy Sue’s bed.” Ennis put her suitcase on top of the dresser that stood between the two beds.

“Oh, good. I get to sleep with the prettiest girl in the world,” Willie Mae gave the child a hug.

Dorothy Sue blushed and smiled. “Will you sing to me?” The nephews and nieces seemed to love hearing Willie Mae’s large repertoire of songs and dramatic readings.

“I sure will. Here’s a chair where we can sing together.” Willie Mae touched a rocker near the children’s beds.

The delicious aroma of beans with ham hock simmering on the coal stove greeted them. Willie Mae set the table while Jewell made cornbread and opened a jar of chow-chow, a green tomato relish. They cooked corn-on-the-cob and sliced luscious ripe tomatoes from Jewell’s garden. After supper, everyone piled back into the car and drove about a mile south to the Putnams’ home. Jewell introduced Willie Mae. “This is Ennis’s sister, Bill.”

Orville extended his hand. “How did a pretty girl like you get the name Bill?”

His good-natured smile put her at ease. “My name is really Willie Mae. I had a lot of older brothers. I’m not sure which of them first called me Bill, but I seem to be stuck with it. I’m happy to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Putnam.”

“Please, call us Orville and Charlotte.” Orville gave her hand a hearty shake and turned to his wife, sitting in a rattan chair with wheels. Her legs were wrapped in a quilt despite the warm weather.

Willie Mae shook Charlotte’s extended hand and returned her smile. “I hope I can be helpful to you.”

Charlotte squeezed Willie Mae’s hand, then lowered her brown eyes. Her skin was pale in contrast to her dark hair, but Willie Mae thought she was pretty.

Orville spoke up. “I’m sure you’ll be helpful. The doctor said that a few weeks of mineral baths at Hot Springs might dissolve the blood clot that is keeping Charlotte from walking. We thought it was certainly worth a try. I need to stay here to keep up the farm work. If you’re ready, I’ll take you over there tomorrow and then come on back. If I don’t haul water for my cotton crop every other day, it’s not going to make it.” Turning to Ennis, he asked, “How’s your maize?”

“Same thing. Thank goodness there’s still water for the windmill to pump. Did you read about the terrible dust storms in Nebraska? They say their topsoil is turning to dust and blowing away.”

Dread was palpable in the room. Willie Mae knew that banks hadn’t granted loans to farmers since the 1929 stock market crash. It was a hard time to be a farmer on the plains.

* * *

The Putnams and Willie Mae left early the next morning. By that evening, Willie Mae and Charlotte were settled in The James, one of 40 hotel spas in Hot Springs, New Mexico. Orville made arrangements for their food and lodging, gave Willie Mae the doctor’s recommended schedule for Charlotte’s bathing sessions, and by mid-afternoon he’d started home.

The hotel dining room was set with large tables where guests sat together. Willie Mae was excited to see that there were quite a few other people her age. A beautiful blonde girl sat across the table from her. Willie Mae couldn’t take her eyes off of her. She caught Willie Mae’s eye, smiled and said, “Hi. My name is Dorothy. What’s yours?”

“I’m Bill. This is my employer, Mrs. Putnam. Are you here for treatment?”

“No. I’m a singer at the La Paloma Hotel. Can’t afford to stay there myself.” She seemed to enjoy the macaroni and cheese, green salad and biscuits she was eating. “You’re welcome to go with me tonight. The dancing starts at seven-thirty.”

Willie Mae was elated to get this invitation. The room where she and Charlotte were staying was adequate, with twin beds, a hot plate for making tea or coffee and an adjoining bathroom, but it would be nice to go out and give her employer a little privacy. She looked at Charlotte.

“Feel free to go, if you want to, Bill.” Perhaps Charlotte was having the same thought about their room. “Once you help me get settled for the night, I’ll be dead to the world. I’m very tired.”

“How much does it cost? I don’t have very much money.” Willie Mae blushed. “Don’t worry.” Dorothy made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “The friend who is picking me up is staying there with his employer. He can sign for your cover charge and drinks.”

“Are you sure? What will he think? Won’t he mind me tagging along?”

“Don’t worry,” Dorothy repeated. “Walter is a sweetheart from Muskogee, Oklahoma. He works for a Cherokee Indian who struck oil on his land. Walter drives him around wherever he wants to go in his Cadillac. We’re not a serious couple but we have a lot of fun together. Walter will be happy to have someone to talk to and dance with while I sing.” Dorothy laughed.

Willie Mae felt doubtful, not sure she’d feel comfortable dancing in a strange place with someone she’d never seen before. She was glad that she’d practiced the latest dance steps with Ina Rae and their girl friends. That comprised most of her dancing experience.

Charlotte spoke up. “You should go, Bill. I don’t want you to be stuck with me all the time. It’ll be nice for you to meet some other young people.”

“All right then.” Willie Mae felt elated once the decision was made.

As soon as she helped Charlotte into bed, Willie Mae ran a comb through her permed blonde waves. She quickly changed into the party dress she’d made earlier in the spring, grateful that she’d packed it. It was an ankle-length mauve taffeta with a boat neckline and large puffed sleeves of a deeper hue. She knew it made her blue eyes even bluer. She put on lipstick and a little rouge and hurried back downstairs. Dorothy arrived in the lobby at the same moment.

“You look nice.” Dorothy smiled.

“Thank you.” Willie Mae thought her homemade dress looked pathetic next to Dorothy’s elegant ivory-colored satin halter dress. Willie Mae took a deep breath and put that thought out of her mind. She looked all right. She wasn’t going to be on a stage.

Dorothy’s friend, Walter Brown, arrived shortly. After a quick introduction, they hurried to the big car waiting at the curb. Walter took a paper bag from under his seat, pulled a cork out of a bottle inside and asked the women if they’d like a drink of whiskey. “My boss has a good bootlegger. This is smooth stuff.”

“No, thank you.” Willie Mae had tasted whiskey once and knew she didn’t like it. “I already feel a little tipsy, from just smelling the cork,” she laughed.

Dorothy also declined. Walter took a swig from the bottle and returned it to its hiding place. Willie Mae felt relieved that he drove conservatively. When Dorothy started singing “I’m Getting Sentimental Over You,” Willie Mae joined her. “Hey, you’ve got a good voice, Bill. Let’s practice this. You carry the melody. I’ll harmonize.” By the time they arrived at the large hotel on the main town square, the duet was close to perfect and Willie Mae was elated.

The La Paloma was a Spanish-style adobe building with a tiled roof, arched colonnades across the front and elegantly carved woodwork in the lobby and ballroom.

The three young people sat at a table near the bandstand. The seven-piece orchestra played “Mood Indigo“ and “April in Paris.” The piano player rose, placed a microphone in the curve of the grand piano spoke into it. “Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome our beautiful songbird, Dorothy Jones.“ Dorothy slowly ascended the three steps to the platform as the musicians started playing “Night and Day.“

Willie Mae was entranced. It seemed she had landed in a dream. Dorothy had the crowd in the palm of her hand. When she said, “I’d like to ask my new girlfriend to sing with me,” Willie Mae couldn’t believe her ears. “Her name is Bill Cummings. Yes, I said girlfriend, and her name is Bill. We can accept that, right? Come on up, Bill. Let’s sing ‘Sentimental Journey’.” The crowd applauded as Willie Mae ascended the step. It didn’t sound bad. She was elated.

Walter asked her to dance the next number, “Walkin’ My Baby Back Home.” She was glad it wasn’t a slow one, and Walter led her in the Charleston, allowing her to keep her distance and still have a good time. Several other young men asked her to dance. By the time Walter and Dorothy dropped her at her hotel, she was exhausted but happy.

For the next four weeks, after Willie Mae helped Charlotte get dressed, they went to the pool for Charlotte’s bath appointments, Willie Mae helped her with a routine set of exercises to help Charlotte increase her stamina. A therapist taught them this routine the first day and came on the following Mondays to evaluate Charlotte’s condition and progress. The two women had lunch in the hotel dining room. Charlotte rested in the early afternoon while Willie Mae played dominoes with other guests or read. After another exercise session in the pool, dinner and helping Charlotte into bed, Willie Mae went out with Dorothy and her group of friends. Charlotte assured her she didn’t mind. She was an avid reader and enjoyed her solitude, though she loved hearing reports of Willie Mae‘s evening exploits.

She had a grand time. Dorothy invited her to sing with her more than once. Sometimes Willie Mae couldn’t believe that she was the same girl who’d been so depressed all through high school, the same one who felt broken hearted just a month before.

This was a dream job for Willie Mae at the time, but in later years she would say, “I wasn’t worth a flip as an employee.” Still, it launched her into adulthood.

Chapter 5: Heartbreak as a Rite of Passage

Willie Mae’s parents were having the most carefree time of their lives. Her dad sold the lots where the elevator had stood, and with the insurance money bought several rent houses. He was appointed to finish the term of a county commissioner who died in office, and was later elected for several more terms. He took Mama with him to county-wide events as well as political trips to the state capital in Austin. The drought that caused Dust bowl was just beginning. The Wall Street crash of the previous year made credit harder to get, but hadn’t yet significantly affected the local economy.

Glad she could make herself useful, Willie Mae cared for the house and garden while her parents traveled. She even did laundry for herself and Ina Rae. Most of her high school friends were at college or working on farms, so she often felt at loose ends during the week, but still went to parties and the movie theater on Saturday.

One day when she and Mama went into the Baker Hannah Hardware Store, they were both struck with the dark good looks of the man behind the counter.

Mama was never at a loss for words. “Are you new? I hope Mr. Baker is well. I‘m Mrs. Cummings. This is my daughter, Willie Mae.”

The young man acknowledged them with a nod of his head. “How do you do. I’m Fred Jenkins and yes, I’m new in Floydada. Mr. Baker, my mother’s cousin, hired me to manage the store. He’s well, but is ready to slow down a little. I just finished business school in Abilene and am grateful to have this job.”

“My brother, Clyde, went to business school in Abilene.” Willie Mae stopped, realizing she was almost shouting. It had been years since Clyde finished school and she felt foolish. Not many new people moved to Floydada. Fred Jenkins looked like a movie star in a gray business suit with a starched shirt and bow tie. A well-trimmed mustache decorated his upper lip.

He turned to her, flashing a brilliant smile. “Is that right? Where is he now, Willie Mae?”

She blushed and lowered her eyes, “Everyone calls me Bill.”

Her mother spoke up. “He works in the post office on Galveston Island. Welcome to Floydada, Mr Jenkins. Have you found a church home here?“

“I’m afraid I haven’t had time yet.” Fred Jenkins looked regretful.

“Well, then, you’re invited to the Church of Christ, where our family goes. It‘s just down Park St. two blocks.” She pointed. “If you can go Sunday, we’d like to have you join us for dinner after church.”

“Why, thank you, Mrs. Cummings. That’s very kind of you. Please call me Fred. I’ll meet you at church and then follow you home. People in Floydada are certainly friendly and hospitable, just as my mother said they’d be.” He was speaking to Susie, but smiling at Willie Mae.

That evening, Willie Mae went into her sister’s bedroom. “Oh, Shorty, there’s a new young man in town. He works in the hardware store, and Mama invited him for dinner on Sunday. Wait till you see him. He’s so handsome.”

“Let’s plan what you’re going to wear, Bill.” Ina Rae went into her sister’s bedroom and looked through her closet. She pulled out a blue crepe dress with white trim around the collar, cut slender with a flare at the hem, which also was trimmed with white. “You look great in this. Whoever this handsome dude is, he won’t be able to resist the way this color makes your eyes even bluer.”

Blushing, Willie Mae laughed. “When he sees you, he won’t look at me any more, although he did seem interested today.”

“I don’t care how handsome he is. I really like Jim Dougherty. We’re going with a bunch of other kids to the movie tomorrow night. Want to go?”

“No, thank you. Your friends are nice, but since I’m not in school, I don’t fit in any more.”

On Sunday, Fred Jenkins waited in front of the church when the family arrived. He introduced himself to Dad, shook hands with Mama, nodded to Ina Rae when she was introduced, then turned to Willie Mae, offering his arm. She placed her hand in the crook of his elbow and they followed her parents and sister into the church. There wasn’t room on the same pew for all of them, so Willie Mae led him into the one behind Mama and Dad. She felt like everyone was staring, but ignored the feeling, smiled into Fred’s handsome face and whispered small talk until the service began.

Fred was not the only guest at the Cummings’ home for dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Orman and their son Otto joined them.

After the meal, the adults went to the parlor to visit. Ina Rae and Willie Mae washed and dried the dishes while Otto and Fred Jenkins watched from the wide arch between the dining room and kitchen. Otto spoke up. “I wish we could make ice cream like we used to.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Ina Rae laughed. “If you ask Mama, she’ll probably let us.”

The girls listened as the young men asked their mother.

Mama smiled, “That would be nice, but we don’t have extra ice and the ice house closes early on Sunday.”

“I can bring some from the store,” Fred offered. “We have an ice box in the back, and I can get enough to make a freezer of cream, if you’d like.”

Everyone looked to Mama for approval. “Very well,” she laughed. “Mrs. Orman and I will mix the cream while Mr. Jenkins gets the ice.”

The girls finished in the kitchen and walked out onto the porch, following Fred and Otto. Fred’s roadster was in front of the house. He turned to Willie Mae. “Would you like to go with me?” Looking at the others, he apologized. “Sorry, Otto and Shorty, there’s only room for one passenger.”

Willie Mae told her parents that Fred had invited her to go with him, expecting one or the other to object. Mama smiled broadly. “Go along. Enjoy yourself,” Dad looked doubtful.

Willie Mae didn’t wait for Dad to speak. She ran out and jumped into the passenger seat and the roadster sped away. Ina Rae rolled her eyes at Otto. “So Bill has an admirer.”

“He seems nice enough,” Otto said, watching the car drive away. “Great car.”

Willie Mae enjoyed the ride in the flashy Chrysler. They parked in the alley behind the hardware store. “Come in with me,” he insisted. The dark hallway seemed a little creepy until Fred opened the door to the office and turned on a light. In the hallway, right next to the door, was a large ice box. When Fred opened it, there were two blocks of ice, one large and one that had melted to half-size. As Willie Mae looked inside, he turned, held her face between his hands and tried to kiss her.

She pushed his hands away, turned and went out the door, saying, “I’ll wait in the car.”

Fred came out with the ice wrapped in brown paper, strapped it to the pull-down luggage rack on back of the car, and got in beside her. “Sorry, Bill. You’re so pretty, I just couldn’t resist.”

“You’re a little fast for me. I hardly know you.”

“Don’t worry. You will.”

* * *

For the next few months, Fred asked her out every weekend and visited her at home during the week.

“Still,” she complained to Ina Rae one night as her sister was helping her wave her hair, “I feel I hardly know him. He acts like a perfect gentleman in front of Mama, who thinks he hung the moon. When we’re alone all he really wants to do is pet, and you-know-what.”

Ina Rae arranged Willie Mae’s hair into deep waves held with curved metal clamps. “Do you think you might marry him, Bill? You make such a cute couple. You’re so fair and he’s so dark. All my friends have a crush on him.”

“I don’t know why, Shorty, but I don’t trust him.” She picked up a framed photo from her dresser and read the inscription: To Bill, With all my love, Fred Jenkins. “Who signs a love note with his last name? I admit he's exciting and I like being seen with him, but something about him isn’t right.”

A few days later, when the family sat down for dinner, Mama raised her eyebrows at Willie Mae. “Have you talked to Fred this week?”

“Not since we went to the movies Saturday night.”

“I’m sorry, Daughter, but I have bad news. When I asked after Fred in the hardware store, Mrs. Baker took me aside and whispered that her husband discovered that Fred embezzled money from the store.”

“Oh, no.” Willie Mae gasped. “Is he in jail?”

“No. The Bakers decided not to go to the law. But when they confronted him, he confessed to them that he’s supporting a woman and child in Abilene.. Imagine that! I thought he was such a fine young man.” Mama’s voice trembled.

Willie Mae flushed. “Well, I think you liked him better than I did, Mama. I feel furious.” She rose from her chair abruptly, making it fall to the floor behind her, and ran to her room.

When Ina Rae followed, she found Willie Mae with Fred’s picture in her hands, the frame on the floor. “This is what I think of all your love, Fred Jenkins.” She tore the picture into small pieces and dumped it into a trash can beside her dresser. “Oh, Shorty, I’m so embarrassed. How can I show my face in Floydada after going with such a skunk? What am I going to do?” She sat heavily on the bed, her face in her hands.

Ina Rae sat and embraced her. “It’ll be okay, Bill. Our wise brother A.D. says the truth is always good news. They sat there for awhile trying to think of options for Willie Mae’s future. Finally, Ina Rae went to her own room to do homework and Willie Mae, feeling miserable, went to bed.

The next day, as if in answer to an unuttered prayer, a letter addressed to Willie Mae arrived. It was from her brother Ennis, who farmed with his wife Jewell in Friona, Texas.

Dear Bill,
Our friend, Orville Putnam, is looking for someone to accompany
his wife, Charlotte, to Hot Springs, New Mexico, to take mineral baths
in the hope it will strengthen her legs. A blood clot has rendered her hardly
able to walk. The doctor isn’t sure the baths will help, but don’t think they
will hurt. Orville will pay your passage, room and board plus a small salary.

Please let me know if you want to take this position and when you could
be here. Please give my regards to Mama, Dad and Shorty.
Below Ennis’s signature, Jewell had written, “Bill, when you get back from Hot Springs, you can stay with us as long as you like. We can use your help and would enjoy having you. Love, J.”

Two days later, Willie Mae hugged her Ina Rae and her parents goodbye and caught a bus going northwest.

Mother's Story Chapter 4: Floydada High School

Chapter 4

Unhappy attending the large high school in Floydada, Willie Mae found it difficult to make friends. In Roseland, she knew everyone and was quite popular. She rarely had to form new relationships. She didn’t know how.

One golden fall day after school, Willie Mae took refuge in the room she shared with her sister. When Ina Rae came in, she found her crying.

“What’s the matter, Bill?” Ina Rae placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder.

“Oh, Shorty. I don’t think people here like me. I try to be friendly and funny, but everyone already has their pals. I just don’t fit in.” Lying on one of the narrow beds in their room, Willie Mae turned her face to the wall, crying even harder.

Ina Rae sat beside her on the edge of the bed and rubbed her back. “I’m sorry. I thought you were excited about being in the pep squad.”

“I was, but the other girls were going to Blanche Hilton’s house after school to practice yells, and they didn’t invite me.” She turned back to look at Ina Rae, her tear-filled blue eyes full of resentment.

“Well, I don’t think you need a special invitation. Come on. We’re going over to Blanche’s house right now.” Ina Rae’s eyes blazed with blue fire. “If you’re in the pep squad, then you have to assume that you’re invited. You need to learn those yells. Now wash your face and comb your hair. I want to learn the yells too.” Her pretty face settled into a coaxing smile.

Willie Mae, who adored her younger sister and was in awe of her spunk, obediently did as she was told. They walked the few blocks to the Hiltons’. As they approached the low brick house with broad lawns, they could hear girls voices in the back yard. Willie Mae started up the porch steps to knock on the front door, but Ina Rae motioned for her sister to follow her around the side of the house.

In the back, they found seven girls in a line, kicking and side stepping to the rhythm as they chanted,
“You’ve got it, now keep it.
Doggone it, don’t lose it.
Your pep! Your pep!”

Ina Rae marched up to Blanche and announced. “Bill’s sorry she’s late. She has to take care of me, her little sister, after school, so she couldn’t come till I got home. Mind if I join you?” She lined up with the other girls and motioned Willie Mae to do the same, which she did.

Blanche blinked, then shrugged as Ina Rae started the chant again and all the other girls fell back into step.
By the end of the practice session, Willie Mae laughed with the rest of the girls when she missed a step, purposely escalating the misstep into a fall on the grass, then rolling over and sitting up with a goofy look on her face. As she and Ina Rae left, Blanche walked between them to the front of the house, holding hands.
“Do you want to meet me at the corner in the morning? We could walk to school together.”

Secretly thrilled, Willie Mae nodded happily.

The next morning, she and Blanche practiced their yells and marched in rhythm all the way to school. This was a start, Willie Mae thought, thankful for her bold little sister.

Through music Willie Mae made more friends and felt good about herself. All her life she liked to sing and had a sweet soprano voice. The a cappella singing at church prepared her well to participate in the school choir. She was chosen for the girls’ sextet, a niche where she really felt at home. Her favorite song was “My Blue Heaven.”

Her mother sometimes worried about Willie Mae’s moodiness. “You’re either too happy or too sad,” she told her. This surprised her. She didn’t think she was ever really happy since leaving Roseland. Some days she had no interest in anything. Willie Mae learned that if she clowned around at least she didn’t feel so sad. She guessed that’s what Mama meant when she said she was too happy.

She did well in language arts and social studies. Her brother, A.D., was her teacher for tenth grade U.S. History, which she liked well enough. However, Roseland school had not prepared her well for math and science. “I’m pitiful with algebra,” she groaned to Ina Rae. “And chemistry might as well be Chinese for all I understand about it.”

“Who needs to know that stuff anyway?” Ina Rae paused. “Are you going to go to college?”

“If I ever finish Floydada High School, I never want to sit in a classroom again.” It was one of those down days when Willie Mae seemed to be in a dark tunnel with no light at the end.

* * *

Willie Mae learned to drive, and one night her dad let her drive his Model T Ford to take Ina Rae and two girlfriends to a baseball game in Lockney. She parked by the board fence outside the field. They met some boys inside and had a good time.

After the game, they found that one of the taillights on the car was broken. Dad was angry when she told him, and Willie Mae couldn’t convince him that she didn’t know how it happened. She never got over the horrible feeling that her dad didn’t trust her and thought she was lying. It changed their relationship, and she grieved for the days when they were so close.

* * *

One night A.D. came to the Cummings’ house in the middle of the night. A light sleeper, Willie Mae heard the car drive up and the front door open. She went out into the hallway to see her brother tapping on her parents’ bedroom door.

He spoke in a low, urgent tone. “Dad, wake up. The elevator is on fire.”

Sid opened the bedroom door. His hair stood on end. He’d put on trousers and was pulling on a shirt over his undershirt. Suspenders hung beside his legs. He patted A.D.’s arm as he walked past. “Thanks, Son. I’d better get down there.”

A.D. followed him. “I’ll drive you, Dad. My car’s out front.”

As the two men hurried out the front door, Ina Rae came out of her room in her white flannel nightgown, rubbing her eyes and frowning. “What’s the matter?”

“A.D. said the elevator is burning. Come on, let’s see if we can see it.” Willie Mae ran to the front window with Ina Rae following. Mama was already standing there, her hand over her mouth, looking at an orange glow, making a silhouette of the water tower that stood between their house and Dad‘s business.

The girls burst into tears. “Mama, what will Dad do?” Willie Mae had never felt the kind of fear that gripped her chest as she watched the brightness and the black smoke billowing into the sky that was beginning to lighten into dawn.

“I don’t know what we’ll do, Girls. Let’s just wait and see what your Dad says when he comes home.” She put an arm around each of them. “God will take care of us. He always has. There’s not much we can do here. Do you want to go back to bed for a bit, or do you want a cup of hot cocoa?”

“I couldn’t sleep now. I’ll make the cocoa, Mama. Do both of you want some?” Willie Mae walked ahead of them to the kitchen.

The three of them were mostly silent as they drank the sweet beverage and waited for Dad to come home.
Two hours later, he and A.D. came in as Mama was getting a pan of biscuits out of the oven. She poured each of them a cup of coffee. They washed their blackened hands and faces in the sink and sat down at the table. Mama put plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, biscuits and plum jam in front them. They both mumbled a grateful, “Thank you,” and started wolfing down the hot food.

Ina Rae and Willie Mae came in quietly and sat at the table. Unlike their dad and brother, they had little appetite. Finally Willie Mae got the courage to speak. “What happened, Dad? How did the fire start?”

A.D. spoke up. “Sometimes stored grain just starts burning by itself. It’s called spontaneous combustion. That’s probably how it started. We tried to get the account records out of the office, but they‘re all charred.”
Dad looked up. “Well, all the farmers know how much they owe me. I’m not worried about them paying. If I forget any bills I owe, I’m sure the businesses will let me know.” Seeing the girls’ somber faces. “Don’t worry, girls. Everything will be all right. I’m thankful no one was hurt.”

Mama stood up and walked around behind Dad and rubbed his shoulders.

“Thank goodness you got that fire insurance policy.” She bent over and kissed his cheek.

A.D. pushed his chair back. “We’d better get ready for school, right, girls?”

Willie Mae nodded, amazed that this day was going to be very much like any other school day, after such a strange night.

* * *

At last Willie Mae reached eleventh grade, which was the senior year in Texas schools in those days.
About this time her sister Felicia moved to a farm near Floydada with her husband, Lee Rogers, and their children, R.K., Sidney Lee and Joyce. With only their two youngest daughters left at home, Dad and Mama loved to drive their automobile out to visit their oldest daughter and her young family. Willie Mae and Ina Rae enjoyed going along to see their adored sister. They played with her slightly younger children and helped them with their homework. Joyce was a beautiful girl, and her two young aunts loved dressing her up and arranging her long dark hair into elaborate do’s.
Driving home from such a visit on a warm March Sunday, Mama turned to Dad. “I’m worried about Sis. She’s hasn’t felt well for several months.”
Dad frowned. “I noticed she looked poor. She didn’t eat much for dinner but she’s always been picky. She was sick all last summer.”
Mama nodded. “I asked her to let me take her to see Doctor Johnson. Thank goodness she agreed. I’ll get an appointment tomorrow.”

Later in the week, Willie Mae arrived home from school to find Felicia asleep in her bed. She went to the kitchen to look for her mother. “Mama, why is Sis here? Is she all right?”

Mama turned from stirring a pot of beans on the stove, with a very serious expression. “No, she’s not well. She’s going to stay with us for awhile. You won’t mind sharing a room with Ina Rae again, will you?” Seeing Willie Mae’s worried look, Mama hugged her, then stood back with a smile and ran her hands over her daughter’s carefully-waved short hairdo.

“I don’t mind at all, Mama. It’ll be fun, but what’s wrong with Sis? Who’s going to take care of her kids?”
“Their dad went with us to the doctor today. Lee said he could manage the children during the week while they’re in school. They can come here on the weekends to be with Sis.” Mama shook her head. “I just hope I can get her to eat more. The doctor thinks she has Pellagra.”

Willie Mae gasped, her hand over her mouth, remembering a letter several years earlier telling them that her mother’s aunt in Georgia had died of Pellagra. At the time, doctors thought the epidemic was caused by tainted corn.

Ina Rae walked in just in time to hear the last sentence. “Oh, no. I read about that in my nutrition book in Home Ec class. They’ve now discovered it’s a vitamin deficiency, niacin, I think. Why would Sis have that? Isn’t she eating?”

“She has no appetite and she’s too thin. Doctor Johnson said twice as many women as men have pellagra. He thinks something isn’t right with her female hormones that keeps her body from getting what it needs from her food.” Mama’s voice quavered as she turned back to the stove, wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron.

Felicia’s illness continued to worsen. Her hands and feet were covered with a red rash. She was sick with diarrhea and sometimes didn’t even recognize her family members. The family felt devastated when Sis died on May 2, 1930, at the age of 33.

Willie Mae was supposed to graduate later in the month, but didn’t have the credits she needed in algebra and chemistry. School didn’t seem important. She decided to “quituate”.

The Cummings Move to Floyd County - Back Story for Mother's Story

For this material, I relied on stories my uncles, Clyde and Elma Cummings, had thankfully left for posterity. The genre of this writing is creative nonfiction. The descriptions and dialogues are from my imagination, based on my uncles' narrative accounts. I decided I should start the book with Mother's birthday, but still hope to include this material at some point.

***

On July 1, 1912, as Sid Cummings awaited the birth of his seventh child, his mind wandered back over his 39 years of life. He couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t know and love Susie Griffin. Their families had migrated together from Georgia to Cass County, Texas when he and Susie were small children, in the 1870’s.

When he was 19, Sid moved farther west to Collin County, to work for Mr. Shipman on a farm. He saved his money for three years, and in 1895, he returned to Cass County and married Susie Griffin. For a short while they lived with Sid’s brother, Jim.

Mr. Shipman helped Sid get some farm land in Collin County, so the couple returned to live there. Susie missed the piney woods of her childhood, but enjoyed the flowers she grew in the wonderful soil of their new home. It was a very small farm in the community of Climax, boasting a post office, grocery store and school. Their first children, Felicia, Ennis and Clyde were born and started school there. Their third son, A.D. was also born there, but before he started to school, a friend of Sid’s told him of a wonderful opportunity to get a larger farm on the plains.

“My brother got half a section for the price of a wagon and two horses. It’s virgin farming country.”

By train, Sid and his friend went to see for themselves. When Sid arrived home after ten days, Clyde, Ennis and A.D. rushed to grab his legs. The family act like I’ve been gone for ages, he thought. He had fun playing out a little drama, setting down his valise, opening it with a flourish, reaching in and bringing out a plum for each child. To Susie, he offered a large bunch of grapes.

“Look at the size of this head of Kaffir corn, this Milo maize and this sweet corn. I think we should move out there, Susie. I found a home we can buy in Lockney County.”

“I’ve heard it’s very cold in the winter and that there are no trees there. And it’s so far away from Mama. Maybe we should wait until this baby is born.” Suzie touched her swollen belly.

But Sid’s mind was made up, and Susie had little say in the matter. They started planning what to take and what to leave behind and making preparations for the move.

The move was difficult but exciting. They loaded all their belongings on an immigrant car, with livestock in one end, a few pieces of furniture, personal effects and farm implements in the other. Sid and Susie, Felicia, 8, Clyde, 6, Ennis, 4, and A.D., 2, rode in a passenger car toward the front of the train. A seventeen-year-old farmhand named Wes rode with the livestock.

Now Sid wondered whatever happened to Wes. He was like a part of our family in those days, he thought. I’d like to know where he is and what he’s doing.

On Clyde’s seventh birthday, September 3, 1905, the family arrived in Canyon City, Texas. Coming from the muggy east Texas late summer, everyone shivered in the high, dry air as they changed trains in Amarillo.
Sid remembered the shock when Mr. Hartman, whom Sid had hired to transport their goods to Lockney, arrived. They went to the railroad stock yard to get the Cummings’ cattle and found a lock on the gate with a seal stating it was a violation of the law to break. Sid shook his head, remembering how certain he’d been that all his charges had been paid in McKinney at the beginning of their journey. The bill of lading said that the money he’d paid was on the charges, and he’d have to pay the balance in Canyon City. Once that was cleared up, they loaded their goods on four wagons, covered with wagon sheets. The few cattle were herded along with them as they started for their new home, 75 miles to the south.

The next day, ominous clouds arose in the north. It rained so hard they had to stop in the Tulia wagon yard for two days until the rain stopped.

Sid was enchanted with the huge vistas. The grass moved like waves on a large body of water, and they glimpsed deer, antelope, badgers, coyotes and jackrabbits along the way. Susie was less enthusiastic. She was a people person and was missing the home she left behind, besides being close to delivering a baby.

After five days, they arrived at the farm Sid had bought to find that the Bonners, from whom he had purchased the place, had been unable to vacate the house because of the prolonged rain. After two weeks of staying in a boarding house in Lockney, they were finally able to move in. Susie arranged their belongings into four small rooms. There was a half-dugout room in the back used for storage. To their horror, the house was infested with bed bugs. Susie used coal oil to combat them, but it was a continual battle.

Aileene was born in October. Susie and Sid welcomed their second daughter, but the long cold winter that followed was very hard for Susie. She was lonely and cried often. Sid finally promised her that they would return to Collin County as soon as he could find a buyer for their farm.

By the time a buyer was found, Susie had made friends with church people in Lockney. They bought a nicer home on the edge of town, and decided to stay in Floyd County.

Mother's Story, Chapter 3

Willie Mae cherished her life in the Roseland Community. The neighbors were all friends. The men in the community helped each other with butchering hogs or building projects, scheduling their time for it. In times of illness, neighbors stepped in to help.

One Friday, Ina Rae waited for Willie Mae in the schoolyard when the older children emerged to join the lower grades for recess. When she caught sight of her sister, Ina Rae ran to her, crying.

“What’s the matter, Shorty?” Willie Mae pulled a hanky out of her pocket and wiped her sister’s eyes.

“Lolita got appendicitis and died.” The words burst out between sobs.

Willie Mae hugged her, trying to comprehend the reality. A beautiful, vivacious red-haired child, who had been at school two days earlier, was gone. Ina Rae wailed, “She was my best friend and I’ll never get to play with her again.”

Willie Mae cried with her as this news struck home.

Back in class, Miss Alta Lee told the children that Lolita’s funeral would be the next day. “Girls, if you have a white dress, please wear it to the service. Lolita’s mother, Mrs. Robertson wants you to be flower girls.”
This was the first time that death struck close to Willie Mae. She lay awake for a long time that night, considering the possibility of her own doom, her fingers stroking her right side where she’d been told the appendix lay. Before the school year was over, two more students in Roseland would die, another girl from appendicitis and a boy in Willie Mae’s grade from a lightning strike.

The whole community came out for Lolita’s funeral. Willie Mae and Ina Rae, in their white organdy dresses, carried baskets of blossoms down the aisle of the church and scattered them around the small white casket. The congregation sang “Asleep in Jesus.”

After the service, tablecloths were spread on the lawn where the women placed their favorite dishes. Pews were brought out of the church building and placed in a square for the congregation to sit while they shared a feast.

“Come on, Shorty,” Willie Mae said after she and Ina Rae filled their tin plates. “Let’s go sit in the buggy to eat.”

The younger girl looked at the delicious food on her plate: fried chicken, potato salad, fresh green beans cooked with a little bacon for flavor. “This is almost like a party for Lolita, only she’s not here.” Her voice wavered and she fought back tears.

“I know. The preacher said it’s a celebration of her life, that she was an innocent child and is in heaven now. Still, her mother cried so hard it made me cry too.” Willie Mae held both their plates while her sister climbed in the buggy, then handed them to Ina Rae while she got settled. “Come on, Shorty, don’t be sad. Lolita would want you to eat this good food. There’s all kinds of cakes and pies, too.”

* * *

Willie Mae loved the farm, cultivated on virgin prairie land. When they moved there, it had only the house, windmill and some barns. Sid and the boys built fences around the hog pasture, cow pasture, vegetable garden and the yards around the house. They dug a cellar not far from the back yard, constructed a chicken house and a smoke house for curing meat. Later, the family planted an orchard with peach, plum and apple trees.
A black walnut tree grew over the big concrete horse tank. The water often overflowed the tank, and the tree grew large and produced big crops. In the fall, Ina Rae and Willie Mae sat under the tree, placed hard-shelled nuts on a flat rock and cracked them with a hammer, then used a nail to extract the meat. All her life, whenever Willie Mae cracked a walnut, she thought of that tree, and how she and her little sister relished the wonderful snack.

The farm livestock were dear to the girl: horses, mules, hogs, cows, chickens, especially the cute baby animals. To her, the flat countryside around the farm was beautiful. Dad assigned her the job of walking down the lane between two fences to bring the cows to the barn for milking. She loved the walk, looking for treasures, such as pretty rocks and Killdeer nests. The mother birds sometimes startled her with their noisy cry. The mother would run away, dragging a wing. The first time Willie Mae saw this, she tried to catch the crippled bird, but it flew away, not crippled at all.

When she got back to the milk shed with the cows, she told Dad about this curious behavior. “I thought the bird was hurt. I was going to keep her in the house till she got well.”

Dad chuckled, a sound she loved. “You must have been close to her nest. That was an act to lure you away.”

Willie Mae was puzzled. “Why would a bird build a nest on the ground anyway?”

“Well, you have to admit there aren’t many trees around here.”

Willie Mae and Ina Rae liked to play in the building Dad called the granary, with its partitioned sections holding cotton seed, wheat and maize. One day the girls lay in the wheat bin, enjoying the way the grain conformed to their bodies. They were surprised when their dad found them there and was angry. “Get out of there, Girls. This is not a place you should play. You’ll have the grain scattered everywhere.”
Sid didn’t scold them often, but when he did, they knew he meant it. One time, Willie Mae tried to help him get a calf into a pen. They nearly had him in when he suddenly turned and ran away from the gate.

Exasperated, Willie Mae said, “Oh, you darn calf.”

Dad frowned. “Willie Mae, don’t ever say that word again.”

One day after school, Ina Rae said, “Let’s go see Mrs. Bybee. She’s probably lonesome.” The Bybees’ farm was the next place west of the Cummings. The woman they wanted to visit was the mother of the owner. The girls liked her because she was like a grandmother, conversing with them and showing a real interest in their concerns.

“We’d better ask Mama.” Willie Mae started toward the house.

“No. It’s all right. We won’t be gone long. She won’t even know we’re gone.” Ina Rae started across the field.

Willie Mae followed. The girls walked the half mile, knocked on the door and were pleased that Mrs. Bybee seemed happy to see them. She told them she’d been cleaning house and explained to them how she did it, sweeping the walls first. The girls had never heard of that. Their mother swept the spider webs down, but not the whole wall. They had a drink of lemonade and some cookies and decided they’d better get home.
“Thank you, Mrs. Bybee.” They returned her hugs and pats on the back.

“You girls are welcome to come see me anytime,” the kind woman said with a chuckle. “Tell your mother I said hello.”

As they crossed the field, Mama met them and they soon realized she wasn’t in the mood for cheerful greetings. She had a switch off a peach tree and spanked them all the way home. “You had me worried to death.” After that painful end to their adventure, they always asked their mama when they wanted to visit Mrs. Bybee.

* * *

Every evening, the large family gathered in the dining room at a long table with a bench on one side. The table was laden with a big hot supper that Aileene helped prepare. The children had to be clean and quiet when they came to the table. If they got boisterous, their dad would clear his throat meaningfully and they would settle down.

After supper, it was Willie Mae’s job to take the butter and milk to the well house beside the windmill. Wonderfully cold water flowed from deep underground into a barrel, then into a trough where milk and butter were kept. In the winter, when it got dark early, Willie Mae would talk Ina Rae into going with her. They were both scared of the dark and stayed close together. One evening, their youngest brother jumped out from behind a bush and yelled, “Boo!” They screamed and Ina Rae dropped the butter.

Crying, Ina Rae felt on the ground for the cloth-wrapped bundle. “Look, Elma. You made me drop the butter.” Finding it and brushing it off, she caught her brother’s infectious laugh and her tears stopped. Still, the girls dreaded every trek out in the dark.

One day when Willie Mae and Ina Rae arrived home from school, Willie Mae ran to her mama’s huge garden. Her little sister stopped and waited. “What are you doing, Bill?”

“You’ll see.” Willie Mae bent and pulled up two young onions, brought them back and grinned as she pulled off the outer skins to get rid of the dirt. “I’m going to make us some onion sandwiches.”

Ina Rae looked skeptical, but followed her into the kitchen and watched as she took two breakfast biscuits out of the oven, broke the crusty tops from the bottoms, cut the onions and put the pieces between the crusts. She handed one to Ina Rae and bit into the other one. “Isn’t this delicious, Shorty?”

Her sister tasted, nodding with real appreciation. This came to be their favorite snack when they arrived home hungry after school.

* * *

The Church of Christ was an important part of the Cummings family life. In Floyd County, there were congregations in Cedar Hill, Lockney, Lone Star and Floydada. Sid and Susie took their children to meet and worship with each one at various times.

After church most weeks, friends would go home with one another for Sunday dinner. Willie Mae especially loved when her family went home with the Ormans, whose daughter Bessie was her age. Bessie’s brother Otto was in her brother Elma’s class.

One summer Sunday at the Ormans’ after church, the two families ate a delicious meal of roast beef with mashed potatoes, fresh garden greens, tomatoes and homemade rolls. Mrs. Orman said, “We bought some ice while we were in town for church. If you girls will mix up some cream and you boys will turn it, we’ll have ice cream with our chocolate cake. Miz Cummings and I will even wash the dishes while you do that.”

The girls squealed with delight. Bessie and Ina Rae nodded when Willie Mae said, “That’ll be two treats in one: we don’t have to do dishes and making ice cream is fun.”

Dad and Mr. Orman went to sit in the front porch rocking chairs. They smoked their pipes and discussed farm matters and politics. Mama and Mrs. Orman stacked the dishes and carried them to the kitchen to wash.

On the other side of the kitchen, the girls talked and laughed as they mixed Mrs. Ormans recipe for vanilla ice cream. They heated enough thick cream to dissolve the sugar, then stirred in more cream, a little salt and vanilla. “Otto, bring the freezer,” Bessie called out the back door. The boys had brought the freezer from the cellar, rinsed it off at the windmill. They’d stopped to wrestle on the grass, but came through the screen door eagerly when Bessie called.

“Step aside, girls. This is a man’s job.” Elma grinned. He carried the bowl of cream mixture to the back yard and poured it into a metal canister. Then he put in a slotted paddle whose central post extended through a hole in the lid. Otto carefully placed on the lid, which had raised gears around the central hole. Elma put the canister into a large wooden bucket. Otto fit a geared bar with a crank on the end over the lid, and clamped it down.

The girls had ice mixed with rock salt ready, and helped the boys place it in the bucket around the canister. Otto brought an enamel dishpan and placed the freezer in it to catch the salt water that ran out a hole in the side of the bucket as the ice melted. “Dad says the salt water will kill the grass.”

The girls sat on the lawn in the shade of a large cottonwood, watching the boys take turns on the crank. The canister rotated clockwise, the paddle inside went counter-clockwise. When the cream started to freeze and the crank became hard to turn, Elma said, I need someone to sit on top of the freezer so it won’t move when I try to turn the crank.”

“I want to.“ Ina Rae jumped up and ran to the kitchen for a towel to put over the freezer, and sat on it. “This is the best job on a hot day.”

When neither boy was able to turn the crank, Otto declared, “This ice cream is officially done. Call out the grownups, Bessie.”

Their parents joined them on the lawn to enjoy the smooth, delicious ice cream with rich chocolate cake.
Mrs. Orman looked serious. “Since the split, our group at church is so small. I’m sorry we couldn’t come to agreement with those who insisted having Bible classes at church on Sunday morning.”

“I’m sorry, too, but if they’d just read their Bibles, they’d see it doesn’t say anything in the New Testament about the church having classes.” Sid’s voice went up in volume. “Besides that, they have individual cups for communion. Matthew, Mark and Luke all state clearly, ‘He took the cup and blessed it.’”

Mr. Orman nodded. “Yes. Next they’ll be getting a piano or organ. If we’re going to restore New Testament Christianity, we have to speak where the Bible speaks and be silent where the Bible is silent.”

The others looked shocked when Susie confessed, “I really don’t think there’s anything wrong with classes and individual communion cups. I just have more confidence in the families that stayed than the ones who split.” Susie was more interested in people than doctrine.

“It’s sad not to see them very often.” Mrs. Orman persisted.

Willie Mae agreed with Bessie’s mother. She missed her friends whose parents built the new church across town in Floydada. The two congregations were still called the Church of Christ, but they couldn’t agree on the details of what that meant.

* * *

One summer day in 1926, Willie Mae and Ina Rae felt excited as they dressed to go to a revival meeting.

“Elma said there’s a huge tent with no sides on it set up in the park.”

“They call that a tabernacle. We’re going to get to go every night for ten evenings in a row.” Willie Mae loved singing songs about heaven, hearing the dramatic sermons and seeing her friends at the meetings. “We’ll stay at A.D.’s house with Elma. The meetings start at 6:30.”

A.D., their older brother, had graduated from West Texas State Teachers College in Canyon. He returned to teach Ancient History at Floydada High School. When Elma started high school, he lived with A.D. in his rented house in town during the school week.

Each night of the revival, Brother Clark urged people to obey the gospel, after which the congregation would stand and sing an invitation song. On the third night, while the congregation sang “Why Not Tonight?”, Willie Mae watched her brother Elma walk up the aisle to the front of the tabernacle. A thrill seemed to pulse along the whole row of girls with whom she and Ina Rae sat. She looked from face to face and in the next moment, seven girls, including Willie Mae, also walked to the front.

After the invitation song, the congregation sat down with an expectant hush. Brother Clark, the preacher, stood before Elma, the first person on the front row. Willie Mae’s heart raced as she waited for her turn. Brother Clark asked her brother to stand, “Do you believe that Jesus Christ is the son of God?”

Elma swallowed, squared his shoulders and answered, “I do.”

Willie Mae looked back and saw Mama wiping tears from her eyes, Dad’s arm around her shoulders. Dad was watching Elma, his eyebrows raised, looking very pleased.

The congregants moved en masse to Judge Duncan’s house on the edge of Floydada. The girls’ mothers went with them to one of the bedrooms where they changed from their church clothes to baptismal gowns, simple unbleached muslin shifts with weights sewn to the bottom to keep them from floating up in the water, possibly exposing the girls’ legs. Willie Mae knew Elma would wear a pajama-like garment made from the same fabric. She shivered with excitement and nervousness, glad she was third in line to be baptized. The congregation only had three gowns, so the last four girls would have to put on wet ones. They all gathered around Judge Duncan’s horse tank.

Willie Mae watched as Elma stepped in the water. His eyes got big and the water turned green as algae swirled around his legs. Brother Clark stood outside the waist-high tank with his right hand in the middle of Elma’s back, a clean handkerchief in his left hand. “Upon your confession of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, I now baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, for the remission of your sins.” He put the handkerchief over Elma’s nose and held it while he lowered the boy under the murky water and brought him back to stand as before. Elma opened his eyes, smiling broadly. Willie Mae had to stop herself from clapping her hands in excitement.

When it was her turn, she was shocked by the feel of the slimy moss on the bottom of the tank. She wrinkled her nose at the musty smell. By this time, the long summer sunset had ended and the Milky Way shone overhead. One of the men held a kerosene lantern up, but she was glad it wasn’t bright enough to see how the water must look by now. Still, the simple ceremony filled her with awe. “I love Jesus and I’m glad that he loves me,” she thought as Brother Clark lay her down in the water and brought her back up again.

She and the other girls discussed what it would mean to be Christians as they all changed into dry clothes after the service. She said, “I’m going to try to live right and do what the Bible says.”

Vera Wilson looked disgusted. “Don’t think I’m not going to have any fun the rest of my life.”

* * *

When Willie Mae graduated from Roseland, Sid decided to move the family to town. He sold the farm and bought the Floydada Mill and Elevator, where they made wheat flour, corn meal and feed for livestock. For the first time ever, the Cummings family didn’t live on a farm.

Willie Mae was used to being “a big fish in a little pond”, and was overwhelmed by being in a large school. She and Ina Rae went to different schools for the first time. Though it was only a few miles away, they suffered terrible homesickness for Roseland.

Mother's Story, Chapter 2

　

Chapter 2

Willie Mae’s father, Sid, traded farms often. He moved the family to a new place in Memphis, Texas, in Hall county, in 1913. They stayed there only a year because Susie didn’t like the bad-tasting water. They called it gyp water.

He traded again for a half-section of land with a house on it, 10 miles south of Claude, in Armstrong County. Sid and Susie’s last child, Ina Rae, was born there on December 8, 1914. Their first child, Felicia, married Lee Rogers at home two weeks later.

This was the best house the family had lived in, up to then. There was no indoor bathroom or water supply. A coal stove heated the living room and coal range served in the kitchen. Kerosene lamps were used for light.

Willie Mae was only 17 months old when her little sister was born. Ina Rae was charismatic from the beginning, and Willie Mae sometimes found it difficult to get her share of attention.

Sid made good cotton crops on this farm, but in 1915, dirt and tickle grass got into the cotton. Prices were so low that he left the crop in the field and moved back to Floyd county after trading farms.

* * *

Susie Cummings was a remarkably energetic and hard-working wife and mother. Besides keeping the house and cooking, she raised a vegetable garden, raised laying hens and chickens for frying, helped with the milking and churned butter. On Mondays, she heated water in a big cast iron pot over a wood fire behind the farmhouse and did the laundry for the week. She made her daughters’ and her own clothes from patterns she created. She struggled with the harsh wind and weather of the Texas plains. Awaking one windy spring morning, Susie went to check on her newly hatched chicks and found several tiny fluffy yellow bodies stuck in the chicken wire, blown there by the night wind. She tried to raise flowers, but the wind often whipped them to pieces as soon as the blossoms emerged.

Willie Mae loved the time after dinner, when the family sat in the parlor. Susie told stories and sang in her sweet, high voice. Willie Mae loved to sing and learned many songs from her mother, her brothers and at church. Sometimes she went to bed feeling quite sad about the tragedies of the children in her mother’s melodramatic songs, such as this one:
Mother, oh why did you leave me alone,

* * *

When the first Monday in September, 1918, arrived, Willie Mae was awake early, excited about her first day at school. Aileene, now 13 years old, helped her dress. “Be still, Bill, so I can brush your hair.” Perhaps with so many older brothers and sisters, it was inevitable that Willie Mae would be called Bill.
Giggling, she jumped up and down. “I can’t be still. I’m too excited. Finally, I get to go in the buggy with you and Elma and A.D. to school.” She stopped and her face turned somber. “I wish Ennis and Clyde still went to Roseland.”

Aileene smiled at her little sister. “Silly. You know they’re too old. Roseland School only goes to ninth grade.”

After graduating from Roseland, children in the district went to Sunset for another year. Clyde had graduated from Sunset, and then to Draghan’s Business College in Abilene.
“Isn’t it exciting that Clyde has a job in a bank in Abilene? I can hardly imagine living that far away from the family.” Aileene sighed.

Willie Mae stuck out her lower lip. “I miss him. And why are Mama and Dad mad at Ennis?”

“They wanted him to finish school, but he just wants to marry Jewell Newman and start farming. Hold still so I can tie your sash. Ennis says he’s going way out west of here to farmstead in Parmer County. Dad says he’s too young, but he’s saving money from his farmhand job to buy a car and go. I think it’s very romantic.” Aileene sighed, then lowered her voice to a whisper, looking around to make sure they were alone. “Last night after church, I heard him singing to Jewell around the side of the building.” She sang:
“With someone like you, a pal good and true,
I’d like to leave it all behind and go and find
A place that’s known to God alone,
Just a spot to call our own.
We’ll find perfect peace where joys never cease
Somewhere beneath the starry sky.
We’ll build a sweet little nest somewhere in the west
And let the rest of the world go by.”
Willie Mae sighed with appreciation for the romance and Aileen’s sweet soprano voice, laughing clapping with delight. A second later, a frown formed on her chubby face. “I hated it when Dad yelled at Ennis and kicked him in the seat of the pants.”
“I did too, Honey. Dad was mad because Ennis quit school. It’ll be okay. They’ll both get over being mad at each other. Now, let’s go eat breakfast. Mama made biscuits and gravy for us. I’ll have to hurry to fix our lunches and then help the boys hitch the buggy.” Giving Willie Mae a hug, she said, “You’re starting to school today, in Miss Alta Lee’s class!”

* * *

In the buggy on the way to school, Elma tried to scare Willie Mae by telling her there were German soldiers behind the hedge planted beside the road as a windbreak. “They have long knives on their guns and they kill everyone in their path.”
Willie Mae’s eyes grew large and she moved closer to Aileene, who spoke sharply. “Stop that, Elma. You know the war is all the way across the ocean.”
“But I had a bad dream about it last night. Maybe they will come here.” Elma didn’t give up easily.
“Just because you’re afraid doesn’t mean you should scare your little sister. Don’t worry, Bill. They wouldn’t come here.”

* * *

On November first, Clyde gave up his job in Abilene. He’d received orders to report to the U.S. Army on November 15, so he returned home to see the family before leaving. The Armistice was signed on November 11, so he was released from his orders. He got a job with the Farmers Exchange Grocery Store in Floydada.

* * *

In 1920, when Willie Mae was eight, there was a guest at school from Plainview, Texas, a larger town in the adjoining county. The young man landed a small plane in a field near the school. The whole school went out to watch the plane take off, fly around the vicinity and land. It was the first time most of the children had seen a plane.

The younger children were kept back from the landing field. The older students were being treated to a short flight above Roseland. Willie Mae was transfixed in horror as she watched her adored sister Aileen putting on ear muffs, goggles, a leather jacket. A man was helping her into the plane. Willie Mae started crying loudly.
Her teacher hurried over. “What’s the matter, child?”
“My sister is going in the plane. I may never see her again. What if it falls?” she wailed.
“No, it’s not going to fall. You’ve seen it take off and land several times. Don’t worry, Willie Mae. Your sister will be all right.”
For the full 25 minutes of Aileene’s flight, Willie Mae was a nervous wreck. When the plane landed and the ecstatic Aileene emerged, her little sister felt weak with relief.

* * *

After A.D. graduated from Roseland, Elma, the youngest boy, liked to ride his horse to school. Aileene, Willie Mae and Ina Rae went and returned in the buggy, which was drawn by Old Nellie, their mare. One day, they were happily riding toward home at the end of the school day. They passed a number of students who lived nearby, walking home. One boy yelled at them, waving a shiny syrup-bucket-turned-lunch pail in the bright sunshine. The movement and flash scared Old Nellie. The mare neighed in alarm, shied away from the boy and started running as fast as she could.
Aileene was handling the reins of the harness. “Whoa, Nellie, it’s all right.” As she talked, trying to calm the horse, she pulled hard on the reins to slow her. The right rein snapped in two, which caused the horse to turn left. They sped down the fence row, the wheels of the buggy hitting every post and demolishing the two left wheels. When the buggy turned over, Old Nellie broke out of the shafts and ran home. Aileene and Ina Rae jumped up, suffering only minor wounds. Willie Mae was unconscious on the ground.
When Willie Mae regained consciousness, she was at home in bed. She said, “What happened?” She looked around, surprised to see her teacher, Miss Anna Sims, sitting by the bed holding her hand. Mama was standing behind Miss Sims looking worried and holding Ina Rae, who was crying. When Willie Mae noticed a bandage on Ina Rae’s arm, she also started to cry. “Are you all right, little sister?”
Miss Sims patted her hand. “Oh, Willie Mae, I’m so glad you’re awake. I found you and your sisters by the wrecked buggy as I was driving home from school in my car. Aileene and Ina Rae got some scratches and cuts, but were mostly scared and worried about you. You fell across the wheel and bumped your head, I think.”
Ina Rae bent over and held out her arms toward the bed. Mama put her beside Willie Mae, and the two girls cuddled and comforted each other, each using the other’s nickname.
“Are you all right, Bill?” Ina Rae patted Willie Mae’s cheek, inhaling raggedly.
Willie Mae fingered the compress on her forehead gingerly. “My head hurts, and it hurts when I breathe in, but I think I’m all right. Are you hurt, Shorty?”
Ina Rae nodded and showed all her scrapes and lifted the corner of the bandage to show a deep abrasion on her upper arm. Seeing it, she started whimpering again.
Willie Mae made sympathetic sounds and kissed Ina Rae’s cheek. Then looking around, she asked, “Where is Aileene? Is she hurt?”
“She hardly had a scratch.” Mama sat on the side of the bed, touched by the girls’ sympathy for each other and relieved that Willie Mae was awake and talking. “The Smitherman boy, Jack, caught Old Nellie and got her settled down and brought her home. After we put merthiolate on Aileene’s scratches, she went out to the barn, to talk to Jack and Dad about how to get the buggy home. I think she is quite taken with Jack.”
She turned to the teacher. “Thank you so much for your help.”
“Not at all. I’m so glad no one was seriously hurt.” Miss Sims smiled, then her expression turned serious. “I have to talk to the children who walk about being careful not to startle the horses on the road.”

* * *

Sid and Susie taught their children to behave well at all times, especially to obey teachers or others in positions of authority. The school’s rules of conduct for the students extended to their journey to and from classes. One rule was there must be no fighting.
One morning, Elma got into a fight with a neighbor boy on their way to school. When it was reported to the teacher, she ordered the boys to come to the front of the class to receive their punishment. She got out a paddle to give them a few licks on the seat of their pants. The other boy went first, and started crying loudly after the first blow. The teacher stopped hitting him immediately.
Elma walked forward for his turn. “Well, I’m not going to cry.” he muttered. The teacher started whipping him.
Willie Mae put her head on her desk, not wanting to watch. She lifted it to look through tears, wincing as each blow landed, whispering, “Cry, Elma. Cry.” She watched in horror as the hard licks kept coming. When the teacher’s count reached 12, Elma’s head dropped and tears shone in his eyes. The teacher stopped immediately, tears shining in her eyes as well.
Willie Mae was afraid Elma would get another whipping when he got home, but the teacher’s note must have said he’d been punished enough. After Susie and Sid read the note, Sid scolded Elma for fighting, but Willie Mae breathed a sigh of relief when that ended the matter.

* * *

Willie Mae liked Mr. J.B. Allen, the Principal of her school, but she was nervous around him. One day when the teacher was absent, he taught the younger grades. He seemed to take special interest in Willie Mae. He had her come and stand beside him while he read poetry to the class. She obeyed, very uneasy. He was such a good reader, making the poetry come to life. Willie Mae especially loved one poem. It was about a spelling bee. A boy misspelled a word and the girl next to him spelled it correctly, passing ahead of him. Willie Mae remembered some of the lines for more than 90 years:
I’m sorry that I spelled the word.
I hate to go above you
Because (her brown eyes lower fell)
Because, you see, I love you.
Still in memory to this gray-haired man,
That sweet girl’s face is showing.
Dear Girl, the grasses on her grave
Have forty years been growing.
He has lived and learned in life’s hard school,
How few who pass above him
Lament their triumph and his loss
Like her, because they love him.

Willie Mae memorized words easily. She took declamation lessons and remembered the pieces she recited always. Some were serious, but she loved the silly ones:

I never saw a purple cow.
I never hope to see one.
But I can tell you anyhow,
I'd rather see than be one.

And

Once upon a time, upon the deep, dark, stormy shores
of Africa, there sat a band of robbers around a campfire. One
of the robbers arose and said, “Captain, tell us a story.”
The old captain arose and said, “Once upon a time,
upon the deep, dark, stormy shores of Africa, there sat a band
of robbers around a campfire. One of the robbers arose and
said, “Captain, tell us a story.”
The old captain arose and said,
etc., etc., ad infinitum.
 Willie Mae and Ina Rae would keep this story going for a long time, giggling at the humor every time.
Eventually, Willie Mae won the speech contest at the county fair, for reciting “The Ship of State” by H. W.Longfellow. She went on to Lubbock to compete again, but only got a 3^rd place there.

After all the older siblings graduated from Roseland, Willie Mae rode her horse to school, with Ina Rae behind her in the saddle, her arms around Willie Mae’s waist. Willie Mae loved to run her pony, winning races with other children by jumping ditches and taking shortcuts. Ina Rae was terrified, hanging on for dear life and screaming for her sister to slow down. After her little sister fell off one time, Willie Mae would let Ina Rae get down before she raced, then come back and get her.