Harold Lee Wilcox and Carol Leone Wilcox I do not remember a time before my little sister was born. I do remember that I considered her to be a source of amusement. You could always count on her to dirty a diaper or spit up. While I found this amusing, it was a little disconcerting at times for Mom. She was a very contrary person as a baby according, I think, only to me.
I believe this picture was taken at our grandmother's home. More grass than we had at our place and the building in the background looks right.
I believe this picture was taken at our grandmother's home. More grass than we had at our place and the building in the background looks right.
Google image of a stairway somewhere. We lived on the family farm at blue mound. From there I remember with varying degrees of clarity:
Falling down the stairs. I remember that event quite vividly. I did not care to climb them again for a spell. I know it was the house in Blue Mound. Nothing else had stairs until we built a basement in Dodge City. I don’t know how old I was but I remember that Mom was upset. That was worth the price of admission.
Falling down the stairs. I remember that event quite vividly. I did not care to climb them again for a spell. I know it was the house in Blue Mound. Nothing else had stairs until we built a basement in Dodge City. I don’t know how old I was but I remember that Mom was upset. That was worth the price of admission.
Google Images I remember my second birthday. Mom had a table set up in the yard. June 21st is the longest day of the year. The house was undoubtedly a bake oven compared to the shade under a tree in the yard. FYI nobody had air conditioning.
The table was white and I knew I was two but I wasn’t sure how that was relevant. We had good food on the farm since we had a garden and animals but mom had gone the extra mile. She had managed to get to town and get a loaf of white bread and some sliced bologna. Mayo even I think. Now you may not think that is a treat but we sure did. No more of that disgusting chicken, beef, and pork you find on the farm. Times sure have changed. My memory also. I can't hardly tell you what I had for lunch yesterday but I remember that meal. Way to go Mom!
The table was white and I knew I was two but I wasn’t sure how that was relevant. We had good food on the farm since we had a garden and animals but mom had gone the extra mile. She had managed to get to town and get a loaf of white bread and some sliced bologna. Mayo even I think. Now you may not think that is a treat but we sure did. No more of that disgusting chicken, beef, and pork you find on the farm. Times sure have changed. My memory also. I can't hardly tell you what I had for lunch yesterday but I remember that meal. Way to go Mom!
VJ day, Google Images Students of history will recognize this picture. It sure didn't originate with me. I remember the day the war ended. Thanks to Google I know that was the second of September 1945. Apparently I was 27 months old with little grasp of current events. We were downtown in Blue Mound and everyone was very excited. They were standing around and cheering with clean blue overalls and white shirts.
I asked mom why we were there and why everyone was so excited. I'm pretty sure I actually paraphrased those questions. She told me that the war was over and I had not a clue what she was talking about. She tried again by telling me that the fighting was stopped and again I had no clue about it. When I wrestled with that again I couldn’t figure why they hadn’t stopped long ago.
Part of me still wrestles with that. I think that if I could not have been a hospital corpsman I would not have made the Navy a career. War is for youngsters but none stay young for long.
I asked mom why we were there and why everyone was so excited. I'm pretty sure I actually paraphrased those questions. She told me that the war was over and I had not a clue what she was talking about. She tried again by telling me that the fighting was stopped and again I had no clue about it. When I wrestled with that again I couldn’t figure why they hadn’t stopped long ago.
Part of me still wrestles with that. I think that if I could not have been a hospital corpsman I would not have made the Navy a career. War is for youngsters but none stay young for long.
Blue Mound, is about 60 miles south of Kansas City where the yellow lines all meet. Meade is the green spot and Dodge City is the Red. I remember the move to Meade, Kansas. Dad had a job with a man named Orville Beargree. I know how to spell Orville but the Beargree is phonetic. His wife was named Flora and they had a son. Most of the move was probably at night because my mind draws a blank. It was the first time I knew I had a cousin named Delmar. She lived in Dodge City. Carol and I were left there while the hard part was done. I’m sure Meade is a very nice place but honestly, I have not been there since 1947 that I can recall. That is intentional. The country changes in Kansas. We went from the green eastern portion of the state into the near desert southwest.
it was a big deal to Mom when we crossed the state line to pick sand hill plums. We were in Oklahoma but it was the same sand and sagebrush in the panhandle that they had in far southwest Kansas. Even at 3 years old I knew it wasn’t near as pretty as the Missouri border with it’s trees and green grass. Years later when Mom visited us in Texas she told us about being out of Kansas that first time. I've literally driven through the Texas and Oklahoma panhandle dozens of times and I love it but I can't help preferring lush green landscapes. Probably why we live in the East Texas (Houston) area now.
I remember thinking I was a cowboy and tying a belt to the tongue of my little red wagon. Mom picked up the wagon and took it to the house. She saw the belt out of the corner of her eye and thought it was a snake. She could really move. She lost no opportunity to tell me about it. In fact, she told me about it for years.
it was a big deal to Mom when we crossed the state line to pick sand hill plums. We were in Oklahoma but it was the same sand and sagebrush in the panhandle that they had in far southwest Kansas. Even at 3 years old I knew it wasn’t near as pretty as the Missouri border with it’s trees and green grass. Years later when Mom visited us in Texas she told us about being out of Kansas that first time. I've literally driven through the Texas and Oklahoma panhandle dozens of times and I love it but I can't help preferring lush green landscapes. Probably why we live in the East Texas (Houston) area now.
I remember thinking I was a cowboy and tying a belt to the tongue of my little red wagon. Mom picked up the wagon and took it to the house. She saw the belt out of the corner of her eye and thought it was a snake. She could really move. She lost no opportunity to tell me about it. In fact, she told me about it for years.
Google Images I remember Dad getting up quickly at night, grabbing the shotgun, and getting to the front porch to shoot at a coyote. The coyote seemed to be after a free meal. Pretty scary stuff. The gunshot made Carol cry. Dad missed so he was unhappy. Mom took exception to how he described the coyote so she was unhappy. I was happy till mom caught me watching and listening. Then I quickly was also unhappy. I do not recommend shotgun blasts from the front porch.
I still have the shotgun. It has taken a few chicken killing coons but I'm not a better marksman than my Dad.
I still have the shotgun. It has taken a few chicken killing coons but I'm not a better marksman than my Dad.
A typical iceman from Google Images I remember that we used kerosene lanterns and an icebox. We would hike to the mailbox on the main road to wave down the iceman. I don’t remember if he took it to the house or if mom had to carry it. I’ll put my money on him. It only lasted 1-2 days depending on how much food and how often you opened the door.
I remember the iceman in Dodge City with a leather apron type of thing that he slung over his back. Then he would take the tongs and grab a block of ice and put it in the icebox or on the front porch for us. One of the few advantages I found to living in town.
Funny thing, I never saw an iceman I thought was out of shape.
I remember the iceman in Dodge City with a leather apron type of thing that he slung over his back. Then he would take the tongs and grab a block of ice and put it in the icebox or on the front porch for us. One of the few advantages I found to living in town.
Funny thing, I never saw an iceman I thought was out of shape.
Google Images These are iceboxs of the type that we had. If I am remembering well it looked a lot like the one on the left.
Mostly, I remember the heat and the cold. It may have had something to do with the reason I am such an easy touch for fixing air conditioning today. When we visited my cousin in Dodge City we would always marvel at the evaporative air conditioner (swamp cooler). It made her very popular. Air conditioning and indoor toilet. I thought she surely must be rich.
I do not think that my maternal grandmother and I ever saw each other. I know for certain she was gone before Carol was born. Sometime in 1947 our maternal grandfather died.
Google says it’s 43 miles from Meade to Dodge City (green and red pins). I can assure you that one summer day it was further. Mom and Dad had a 35 Ford Sedan. Mom drove to Dodge City and then was to meet someone and they were to go to Wichita (I think) for the funeral. I remember Grandpa as well as a person can remember someone who died when they were three or four. He was blind and the subject of a lesson when Mom caught me staring at the sun. She assured me that Grandpa went blind that way. Then, as time passed, she resolutely denied ever having said that.
On that trip the car, mom, Carol and I all overheated. I guess only a Mother's love kept her from killing Carol and I. We were not big on stoicism and wanted her to know of our discomfort. I am certain that we would have been classified as brats.
I am shocked to look back over sixty five plus years and see it was such a short distance. You can see both towns and how close they are to the mountains. The winters are very cold because of the mountains and I suppose that is the reasons the summers are dry.
Google Image. Labeled as Dodge City and I think it is. We moved to Dodge City in 1947. Dad took a job making feed at the grain elevator. I think that job paid 60 cents per hour. At the time he would have been about 42. Throwing around 80 lb.feed sacks would have required determination. About the time in my life that I became a chimney sweep. I know about starting another trade with a pretty intense physical cost. After five or six years at that job Dad was a "hoss". He also had the farmers equivalent of "coal miners lung" and had to change. He taught himself how to do carpentry and I was and remain quite impressed.
One of the benefits of having a dad working at the elevator was that Mom had raw materia to make clothes. She took the patterned flour bags and made clothes for us. I remember underwear and shirts. I'm sure there were more and don't know what all she made for Carol. There were bigger benefits of having a dad that was a carpenter.
One of the benefits of having a dad working at the elevator was that Mom had raw materia to make clothes. She took the patterned flour bags and made clothes for us. I remember underwear and shirts. I'm sure there were more and don't know what all she made for Carol. There were bigger benefits of having a dad that was a carpenter.
This obviously is not from 1947.
We moved to a home on Hardesty Street and although it was a large piece of ground (3 city lots) it was a small house. Dad made it bigger by adding on rooms and a basement. I believe it is the size it was when I joined the Navy but the appearance is altered by several renovations.
There was a mix of homes and vacant lots around us. I could walk out the back door and on to the Osborne farm that was perhaps a quarter mile away. That farm is all cookie cutter lots between our old home and a Walmart type area now.
I remember riding my bike up the hill to pick wild flowers for mom. Got my pants caught in the bike chain and she had to come rescue me. What a sissy. That was sometime in the fifties because it took us a while to get a bike for me. I think my first bike was a girls bike that once belonged to lavonne (my cousin). I was chagrined to ride a girls bike but it worked and beat walking.
We moved to a home on Hardesty Street and although it was a large piece of ground (3 city lots) it was a small house. Dad made it bigger by adding on rooms and a basement. I believe it is the size it was when I joined the Navy but the appearance is altered by several renovations.
There was a mix of homes and vacant lots around us. I could walk out the back door and on to the Osborne farm that was perhaps a quarter mile away. That farm is all cookie cutter lots between our old home and a Walmart type area now.
I remember riding my bike up the hill to pick wild flowers for mom. Got my pants caught in the bike chain and she had to come rescue me. What a sissy. That was sometime in the fifties because it took us a while to get a bike for me. I think my first bike was a girls bike that once belonged to lavonne (my cousin). I was chagrined to ride a girls bike but it worked and beat walking.
This is not Google.
This picture of the four of us was probably taken around 1950. There was more room in the front yard but it's hard to see. The street has been widened since. The house had brick siding instead of the vinyl stuff everyone uses today. The scraggly Chinese Elm was the only tree that I recall. There was hardly any grass. We were in the middle of a drought. Oh for the good old days.
As I said, we put a basement under that house. There was a partially dug out basement that was all dirt when we got there. We put in the walls and the floor with concrete. I’m being charitable to myself when I say we. Dad did most of the work. My older brother was in the Navy already and my sister got married when I was five. I was the (lazy/incompetent) big boy of the family. Dad did what he always did and built on the house. Even before we had the basement mostly in we rented out the room I had lived in to a couple different people. One of them, Carl Platt had a couple missing fingers, a small dog, and an old car. He loved to fish but I remember him because of the Tamales he sold. It kickstarted my love of Mexican food. Mom thought he was a little disreputable. I found that to be very intriguing.
The basement was always warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer so I liked it. One of our neighbors had a basement home with sod on the roof. That was really comfortable.
This picture of the four of us was probably taken around 1950. There was more room in the front yard but it's hard to see. The street has been widened since. The house had brick siding instead of the vinyl stuff everyone uses today. The scraggly Chinese Elm was the only tree that I recall. There was hardly any grass. We were in the middle of a drought. Oh for the good old days.
As I said, we put a basement under that house. There was a partially dug out basement that was all dirt when we got there. We put in the walls and the floor with concrete. I’m being charitable to myself when I say we. Dad did most of the work. My older brother was in the Navy already and my sister got married when I was five. I was the (lazy/incompetent) big boy of the family. Dad did what he always did and built on the house. Even before we had the basement mostly in we rented out the room I had lived in to a couple different people. One of them, Carl Platt had a couple missing fingers, a small dog, and an old car. He loved to fish but I remember him because of the Tamales he sold. It kickstarted my love of Mexican food. Mom thought he was a little disreputable. I found that to be very intriguing.
The basement was always warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer so I liked it. One of our neighbors had a basement home with sod on the roof. That was really comfortable.
google image Our first telephone was a party line with, I think, two other families. Our number had an alpha prefix. HU stood for hunter and it was our exchange. . This was common through the fifties. Each exchange had 10,000 potential customers. This system started to die with direct dialing rotary phones. I do not think the other people on our party line were neighbors so I don’t know how it was organized.
This group of ladies were the Navy Mothers club of Dodge City. George joined the Navy in 1947 and I think Mom may have been a charter member. Carol and I were enlisted to help sell poppies for the club to assist veterans. I remember that some of the sons of these ladies were WW2 vets and some were quite young. Mom stayed active in the club for years. There were involved in charitable work to benefit the Fort Dodge Soldiers Home as well. I'm not certain when it stopped but I don't recall much activity during my high school days or after joining the Navy.
Google Image In 1947 our bathroom was a two hole outhouse. I could go back but don’t want to. To those who want the good old days, I’ll meet you at the outhouse and we can talk about it. Those outhouses were the recipient of a lot of halloween pranks. We built an indoor bathroom while I was in Junior high.
Bath days were done by boiling pots of water on the stove. The water gets re-used by subsequent bathers and in the old days seniority had it’s privileges. The babies were the last ones and the old expression of throwing the baby out with the bathwater comes from that.I promised Carol that I wouldn't show any of the pictures of the process.
Bath days were done by boiling pots of water on the stove. The water gets re-used by subsequent bathers and in the old days seniority had it’s privileges. The babies were the last ones and the old expression of throwing the baby out with the bathwater comes from that.I promised Carol that I wouldn't show any of the pictures of the process.
Google Image one room school house. I remember that my first school was Lincoln grade school. It was a little over three blocks from the house and I walked after Mom began to trust me. I had my first kerfuffle with another kid shortly after kindergarten started. Mom took me to the principal and I was in trouble twice. It led me to have caution as a kid that I was happy to leave behind when I joined the Navy. Probably should have kept some of it.
There were no school lunches. We brought our own sack lunch. I look back today and wouldn't have fed my son some of the food I ate. Being farm country there was a lot of starch.That's how we ate then and I surely survived. No I did not walk to school barefoot in the snow over broken glass. Not trying to go there but as a retired teacher I do think that our countries educational experience is worse with the federal system. Each Board of Education was responsible to the citizens and we did not waste time teaching a test that was "one size fits all".
There were no school lunches. We brought our own sack lunch. I look back today and wouldn't have fed my son some of the food I ate. Being farm country there was a lot of starch.That's how we ate then and I surely survived. No I did not walk to school barefoot in the snow over broken glass. Not trying to go there but as a retired teacher I do think that our countries educational experience is worse with the federal system. Each Board of Education was responsible to the citizens and we did not waste time teaching a test that was "one size fits all".
I believe it was 1954. My brother was stationed at the Naval Reserve Air Station in Hutchinson Kansas. I spent the weekend with him while an air show was happening. I saw the Blue Angles and according to Wikipedia it was the first year for jets. If correct, this is the jet they flew.
Google Images I remember Dad finding and buying a 1947 Studebaker for Carol and I to take to school. That old car would hardly make it up the hill by the old High School. It sucked gas and had no power. The person we sold it to did something and it worked well. By that time we had something better.
For the car nuts among you this was a flathead six engine with a three speed manual on the column. Of interest is that the rear doors were suicide doors. Easy access but a reason for the name.
Dad and I were in a wreck while he was driving his 1949 chevy. Another car (also an old chevy) plowed into the side of our car. I was thrown out and hit the pavement. The next thing I can recall was Mom in a highly agitated state all because I woke up and asked what happened. Apparently this was the latest of several times I had done that. I guess that I was concussed before the NFL made it cool. On the good side the engine was great and made it into a 1946 Chevy that my brother had owned. A big improvement for our second car but I was young and stupid. If I had it today it would probably last forever. At that time it lasted about a year and gave way to the first of about five Fords I would own.
I would love to say that if my son had been as brain dead with his vehicle as I was, he would have walked. Problem is that would have been untrue. The fruit didn't fall far from the tree.
For the car nuts among you this was a flathead six engine with a three speed manual on the column. Of interest is that the rear doors were suicide doors. Easy access but a reason for the name.
Dad and I were in a wreck while he was driving his 1949 chevy. Another car (also an old chevy) plowed into the side of our car. I was thrown out and hit the pavement. The next thing I can recall was Mom in a highly agitated state all because I woke up and asked what happened. Apparently this was the latest of several times I had done that. I guess that I was concussed before the NFL made it cool. On the good side the engine was great and made it into a 1946 Chevy that my brother had owned. A big improvement for our second car but I was young and stupid. If I had it today it would probably last forever. At that time it lasted about a year and gave way to the first of about five Fords I would own.
I would love to say that if my son had been as brain dead with his vehicle as I was, he would have walked. Problem is that would have been untrue. The fruit didn't fall far from the tree.
We have all heard it said that you can never go home. That sure isn't true if you have the parents we had. I always felt welcome but will acknowledge that it was changed.
This picture has to be from 1964. I was 21 and Carol was 19 or 20. I certainly had gone on in search of that brave new world and she either had also or was about to. In Mom's later years she took care of Mom and I am grateful. Mom also lived with me and it was a pleasure until she became unstable and I was away from her circle of support.
I have a lot of other memories but they are of a time when I was more of a visitor than a Son. There is probably no good way to say that but it was different. If you didn't take up an adult residence in your parents home you know exactly what I mean. Whatever the situation, I will always be grateful that I had parents who taught me that anything is possible if you just keep at it.
This picture has to be from 1964. I was 21 and Carol was 19 or 20. I certainly had gone on in search of that brave new world and she either had also or was about to. In Mom's later years she took care of Mom and I am grateful. Mom also lived with me and it was a pleasure until she became unstable and I was away from her circle of support.
I have a lot of other memories but they are of a time when I was more of a visitor than a Son. There is probably no good way to say that but it was different. If you didn't take up an adult residence in your parents home you know exactly what I mean. Whatever the situation, I will always be grateful that I had parents who taught me that anything is possible if you just keep at it.
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