My dad, Benjamin Harrison Fletcher, worked in a coal mine. He shovelled coal all day, loading it in a wheelbarrow and hauling it to where they stacked the coal. He always worked hard and was always extremely tired when he came in from work.
When World War I broke out, my dad went to join the services in 1917. They turned him down, because he had flat feet (no arches). Plus he had a family. They said a person with flat feet would get tired too quick walking and the servicemen in W.W.I did plenty of walking. I’m glad they didn’t accept him because he may have gotten killed in battle. Mother would have had to raise us kids alone, without a father.
I recall the folks telling me that I cried nearly all the time when I wasn’t asleep, and my mother had to hold me straddle her hip, while she rubbed the clothes out on the rub-board every day. She carried me around nearly all the time, just to keep me from crying. This was hard on her because Eugene was still an infant too.
When I was 3-1/2 years old I got real sick with a stomach trouble. My whole body turned blue & purple spots all over except right around my heart. I was near death. There happened to be a doctor visiting our neighbor, at the time who lived 5 or 6 blocks away. My mother, all at once, thought to send Helen running over to tell him I was real sick and for him to come quick, that I was dying. So he came over and he put his hand on me and bowed his head and prayed in silence for about 5 minutes. Then he looked up and said to my mother, “She’ll be alright now.” And then he left. Amazingly enough, after a few minutes I sat up in bed and asked for a banana. My mother had forgotten to ask the doctor about what I would be able to eat. So she sent Helen back over to the neighbor’s house, to ask him what she should give me to eat. And he said “Give her anything she wants.” So she gave me a banana, and I was OK after that. The Lord worked miracles every time that Doctor would pray for a person. So my mother and everyone else called him Dr. Claxeney, the Devine Healer. But of course, the Lord did the healing.
When I was nearly 7 years old, we moved to Tulsa, Oklahoma. Mama and us kids traveled there by train. My dad went to Tulsa ahead of us to secure housing. He met us at the depot at about 3:00 o’clock one morning. I remember going with my dad, walking down the sidewalk, just him and I at 3:00 a.m. He walked so fast I had to run part of the way to keep up with him. It was over in East Tulsa, the wealthy part of town. We were looking for a place that was open to buy some food. Helen and Gene were sound asleep with Mother.
I remember we traveled to West Tulsa by streetcar, then we rented a one room cabin just off South Quanah highway. This was the main highway going through Tulsa. It was a red house, not painted red, but built out of Redwood.
Helen and I started to school at Celia Clinton school way across town. We had to cross that busy highway, as all the other kids did that lived on our side. There weren’t such a thing as crossing guards. I started in the first grade. I could read the first reader, every word. I probably should have been put in the Second Grade; but I wouldn’t read one word for the principal., As a result, I was put in 1st grade, In the middle of the term, I skipped to the second grade because I made all A’s in the first grade. I always made all A’s, all thru grade school. In the 8th grade, I made all A’s except one and it was a B+.
When I was 7 years old, and Gene was 5 years old, my mother gave birth to twins, 2 boys. She was only 6-1/2 months pregnant when they came. They were both very small, only weighing around 2 lbs. each. One was born dead and the other one lived 3 weeks. The one that lived 3 weeks was so weak he couldn’t nurse her breast, nor a bottle. So, they fed him with a medicine dropper. Unfortunately he didn’t get enough milk that way, plus, he took Yellow Jaundice. I believe it’s a disease caused from maladies in the Mother’s body during pregnancy. So, he passed away at 3 weeks old.
Gene was a very active little boy. He ran all over town and played. My Dad would tell him to always be sure and be back home in time for supper, 6:00 P.M. But Gene would get to playing and totally forget about the time. Dad would give him 3 chances. Then after the 3rd time he was late, Dad whipped him with his belt. I felt so sorry for Gene. He was small for his age until he was about 14 years old. Then he began ordering those Charles Atlas exercise books. He took those exercises and soon became all muscles.
When I was 11 years, we moved to Okmulgee, Oklahoma. My Dad had gotten a job at the Smelter’s. He made $ .54 per hour, and we paid $4.00 per month for rent on a real nice 2 bedroom house. We had a big yard to play in. The house was located on the edge of the dividing line between the white and black section of town. That was in the days when there was segregation. The family that lived behind us was black, and they had a little girl about my age. She would call me by name and say “Hi Sadie” to me nearly every day. I suppose she learned my name by hearing the folks call me in the house, etc. So I would wave at her and she would wave back. I longed to play with her, but Mama wouldn’t let me. The house emptied out right next door to us, so we moved into it. It was only $3.50 per month and Mama wanted to save all she could to buy necessary things.
One of my fondest memories was when we had our first phone. It was when you picked up the receiver and turned a handle and it rang the operator. She would say “Number Please?” Then you would give her the number, then she would ring that number and get your party. We would call the grocery man and he would deliver our groceries. The delivery would cost $ .10. One day I asked my mother if I could ring the grocery man and she said, “OK”. So I got him on the phone and said, “We want a quart of bread and a loaf of milk.” Mama immediately took the phone and corrected me. I was so nervous because it was the first time she had let me use the phone. Besides, Helen and Mama both were staring at me while I was calling and that made me more nervous. They really laughed and Mama made fun of me. I was plenty old enough to use the phone, 13 years old. But, Mama wouldn’t let me use it anymore.
Mama bought Gene a pair of skates. He could really skate good. One day I asked him if I could use his skates, so I could learn how to skate also. Well, I skated successfully only a few feet. I fell and hurt my legs & groin so bad, I never tried again.
About a year later, we moved back to Tulsa. My Uncle Frank was a bootlegger (sold whiskey) right out of his house, for years. So one day before we moved back to Tulsa, my Dad got a letter from Uncle Frank. He told him what an easy life it was to be a bootlegger; and why didn’t he come back to Tulsa and sell whiskey instead of working so hard at the smelters. It was too tempting an offer, so my Dad did just that. We moved back there and got a little 3 room house in the same block as my Uncle Frank. Dad went out of town, up in the mountains and bought several Brown Jugs of whiskey for a cheap price. Then he came back home and put it in pint and 1/2 pint bottles and sold it. He got by with it and so did Uncle Frank. Unfortunately Dad started sipping it every day; and slowly became an alcoholic.
Sometimes I look back, and I can understand why my Dad wanted a rest from working so hard all his life. And in a way I don’t blame him for seeking a way out, even if it did mean breaking the law and selling whiskey.
I was 14 years old at the time and was in 8th grade, Gene in the 6th grade, and Helen was in the 11th grade. Helen had to catch the streetcar and go over to East Tulsa to go to school. She had a long way to walk to the streetcar tracks. Although she seemed to be in good health, Mama was worried about her, because she was so thin and frail looking. So Mama told her to just quit school. After about 4 months of those long trecks back and forth to high school, Helen finally did just that.
Mama had had another son when we were in Okmulgee. She named him Benny J.R. He was about a year old when we moved back to Tulsa. When he was about 16 months old he got sick all at once one day. He woke up from his nap one afternoon whining and Mama knew he was sick. He kept getting worse. So she called a doctor out. She took him in and had X-rays taken and he had a tumor near his brain. He also had scarlet fever, as well as Spinal-Meningitis. He was sick for 6 weeks straight and finally passed away.
After little J.R. passed away, my mother and dad separated. All of us kids went with Mama, of course. We didn’t want to be around our Dad, because he had become an alcoholic by then. Dorothy was 4-1/2 years old at the time. After little J.R. died, my mother’s love all turned to Dorothy, it seemed.
Mother and us 4 kids traveled down to Red River Valley, Texas where mother’s three brothers lived. It was only about 125 to 135 miles down there, but it took us all day, as we were moving in a Model-T car. Mama couldn’t drive, so she sent Helen & Gene across town to get Aunt Connie to drive us. It took about an hour for them to get back. Aunt Connie was really thrilled that we were moving and she was getting to drive us. She drove real slow, about 15 miles per hour, all the way and only stopped to get gas. Mama brought just barely enough dishes, cups and silverware to get by on, only one box full. Tin cups and plates, nothing that would break. She left all the dishes with Dad and left everything else that she could do without. There were 6 of us in that 2 seated car; along with all our clothes, bedding, dishes, etc. Us kids had to ride on top of the bedding. But we all were happy, except Mama. I suppose it broke her heart to have to leave Dad behind. But we did alright on the trip. Mama gave Aunt Connie bus fare to go back to Tulsa.
Uncle Jay welcomed us in his house. Us kids had to sleep on the floor but we didn’t mind at all. Uncle Jim also lived with them, and Uncle Jack, my mother’s youngest brother. Aunt Lillie was a real good cook and she really spread a lot of food on the table every meal.
We were there for a while, until spring came. Then Uncle Jack moved in with us. He was about the same age as Helen, 18 years old. He could drive our car and was lots of help to us. He moved us out on Wolfe Ridge in a farm house that was furnished for workers. We all went to work for that farmer, chopping cotton and doing whatever there was to do in the springtime. We were there about 3 or 4 months; when all of a sudden my Dad joined us. He had sobered up. He had gone to town and bought a whole new set of clothes. He looked terrific. Of course Mama was overjoyed to see him. “A NEW MAN” he was. He had kicked the drinking habit completely. He said he began getting haunted by us and it straightened him up. He was all alone in that house after we left. He said at night when he would lie down to go to sleep, he would just doze off; when one of our faces would appear right in front of his. It seemed so real, it would wake him up. He would jump up and sit on the side of the bed just “trembling” all over for a while. Then he would lie down again and the same thing would keep happening. Only each time it would be another one of our faces. He was trying to get off the whiskey and that’s how it affected him. It was his sobering up days. Eventually he did get off the alcohol all by himself without any help whatsoever, except from the Lord, of course. It took him several days and nights to kick the habit. But he finally made it and he caught the bus and found us.
While we were in Wolfe Ridge, Helen met a man named John Womack. She fell in love with him and they started seeing each other now and then; even after we moved back to Red River Valley. They got married 2 years later.
Us kids were very happy to be out of the big city and on a farm, even though we had to work hard. We moved back over into Red River Valley and rented a 40 acre piece of land. We didn’t have much to eat the first two winters, as it was the depression years . . . 1930, 31 & 32.
I took a malnutrition disease called Pellagra. I was 15 years old at the time and was in the 8th grade. I wasn’t sick but my arms and legs broke out with blisters wherever the sun hit me. When the school kids noticed my arms where my skin had cracked and peeled off, they shied away from me and didn’t want to get near me. They were afraid it was contagious. So the teacher made me miss 6 weeks of school. It was the last 6 weeks of that term. My teacher drove out to our house, way out in the country, to pick me up on the day after school was out. She took me back to the school house; “White Rose” school, so I could take the final test for the 8th grade. It was just her and I there. And I took the tests for each subject and I made all “A’s” except one and it was a B+. My teacher was disappointed that I got a B+, because she wanted me to be an all A student real bad.
When the school kids found out that we didn’t have much to eat, causing me to have Pellagra, the bus driver would stop right in front of our house and every kid on the bus brought something for us to eat. They brought meat, eggs, canned vegetables & fruit, milk, butter and just about everything our whole family needed. It was sure a blessing the way the school kids pitched in and brought food to us. The Lord really blessed us, that’s for sure.
After that year, I missed a whole year and a half of school. I started back when I was 17 years old. I had moved to Ft. Worth, Texas and lived with Helen and John Womack for 5 months. When Helen and John separated, I went back home and so did Helen. Then I started to school in Thackerville, Oklahoma; 5 miles from where we lived in Red River Valley. The kids there were so mean, I soon gave it up. I never started back to school until the following year. By that time, we had moved over into Texas, about 35 miles from where we lived in Oklahoma.
Gene and I use to love to go rabbit hunting. We’d be gone all day long, especially on damp, cold and overcast days. We brought back eight rabbits and one squirrel one day. Gene would save the hides. He’d make a cross with two boards nailed together and stretch the hides on the boards. When they were dried out, he would take them to town and sell them for 35¢ each. He also would set traps to catch skunks; those hides were 50¢ each. I wouldn’t go with him when he went to check on his traps. The smell would take my breath. I couldn’t stand it. Once, he went to school with that odor on him and everyone could smell it all over the room. The teacher asked for the one that had the smell on them to stay home for a couple of weeks. She couldn’t tell who it was. Neither one of us opened our mouth to tell where it was coming from. Mama had washed his clothes of course, but the smell was still on his body, even though he had taken a bath.
One day he had me carry home an Opossum, a live one. I was scared to death every step of the way. He showed me how to hold onto him and said whatever I did, to not put him down on the ground. Just hold tight to the back of his neck until I got home. He said if I put him down, he would turn on me and claw me to pieces. On top of that, I had about one mile to walk and I had to cross a barbed wire fence to get home. . . and me holding onto that Opossum. When I got within hearing distance of the house, I began yelling, “Get a tub, I’ve got an Opossum.” When I got there they had a piece of tin on the ground and a tub to put over him, and a big rock to put on top of the tub. The tin was to keep him from digging out from underneath the tub.
I never was so relieved in all my life to get home with that opossum. That was the most exciting thing that had ever happened in my whole life. Later on, when I started to high school, in Valley View, Texas, the teacher asked us to write an essay on the most exciting thing that had happened to us. I wrote about my experiences with that opossum. I got an “A”, and the teacher had me read it in front of the class. I was real bashful, but I read it anyway.
One day when Gene and I were rabbit hunting in the woods we lost our sense of direction. We started out to find the house through the woods. We went a straight path and turned out about 2 miles from the house. We were sure tired when we got home. Gene and I had 3 good hunting dogs; Boss, Coley and Tuck. Boss was a small dog; he was the only one that would chase squirrels. One day he literally climbed up the tree after the squirrel.
After we left Red River Valley, my Uncle Jay came to see us out here in California. I asked him about Boss and he said he kept climbing trees until one day, he fell out and broke his back.
While Gene and I were out tramping through the woods, Mama and Helen use to busy themselves at home by sewing on quilts. Dorothy was usually playing with a little chicken; dressing it up with cut-out pieces of cloth. Sometimes instead of the chicken she would have a little pig, playing house with it. Once she had a pet pig and Mama let her have it in the house. He kept getting bigger and bigger. One day he rooted over the churn and spilled all the buttermilk out on the floor. Another time, he rooted the wood cook-stove over onto one side. It had a big fire going in it and nearly caught the house on fire. After that, there were no more pet pigs in the house. Ha! Ha! Dorothy was only 5 years old at the time. She had Mama make clothes for the pig. It was real cute. She use to talk to the little chicken, and the pig just like she was talking to a person that could understand what she was saying. She handled that little chicken so much that it began to creep around and get sick from the lack of exercise. Finally Mama talked her into letting it run loose in the yard. It turned out to be the healthiest rooster on the yard. He was a little Bandy Rooster, and did he act cocky. He tried to be the boss over all the other hens and roosters.
I guess I picked up my musical talents during the time we lived in Red River Valley. My Aunt Belle and Uncle Bill lived close to us there. He taught me how to pick the guitar. I was about 15 years old at that time. I bought me an old guitar for $5.00. I learned how to play 3 chords on it . . . G, C & D and sometimes A. He taught me how to change chords in a song or two by ear. I picked it up pretty easy and after I learned, I would play the guitar every day a little.
I started playing the guitar one year before Dorothy started. But Dorothy learned to play the tunes, and I only learned to play the chords . . . and only 4 chords at that. My Uncle Bill Gross showed me the chords, but Dorothy learned on her own, even before Gene learned.
Gene left home to live with Uncle Jay Smith, when I was in Ft. Worth going to school. He also learned to play the guitar, but much faster than I did. He came back home after 2 years. When we had moved over into Texas, some days we would all sing together. Gene would sing lead, Helen would sing Alto and I would sing Soprano. We would usually sing church songs. My mother and dad would sing together also. My mother sang Soprano and dad had a bass voice. He would sing lead in a low key. It really sounded beautiful. Then dad also played the violin. Gene or I would chord after him. Dad was a real good musician, and so was Gene. Then when Dorothy was 7 years old, she learned to play the guitar Hawaiian style. By the time she was 9 years old, she could play any song she heard. Then Dorothy and Gene began singing together. Gene lead and Dorothy low alto. They were on Radio here in Bakersfield when we came out here, when she was 13 years old and Gene was 21 years old.
We were share cropping there in Texas. We had 2 cows, pigs,
chickens, turkeys, ducks and a vegetable garden. We canned fruits & vegetables. We made jelly and jam every summer.
When I was 19 years old, I met Jimmie Shiffert. He lived over in Red River Valley also. My Aunt Belle gave me a birthday party when I was 19; on September 8th, 1934. She said that there was a nice young man living over there she wanted me to meet. So I went to the party and she invited Jimmy. We were both so bashful we hardly spoke that night.
When I went back home I started writing to him in my Algebra class instead of doing my school work. He would write to me a one page letter; and I would reply with my 8 or 10 page letters. For the life of me I can’t figure out what I could write about and so much. I’d give anything to have just one of those letters I wrote him; and one he wrote me.
I was beginning to get discouraged in school, because I was too old to be on the baseball team, so the principal said. I was the only one in the whole school that was over 17 years old. It sure did disappoint me to not be able to be on the Ball team. I was 19 years old by then. I was sure embarrassed over it. If the principal would have only made allowances for me and let me be on the team, I might have finished high school. Another embarrassing moment was . . . one day the History teacher told the whole class that I was 19 years old. She never meant to embarrass me, or she wouldn’t have told them, I’m sure. Instead of being embarrassed, I should have been proud. As it turned out as soon as the room was dismissed, the whole class ganged around me and began saying “Gee, I sure wish I was 19 years old” and really admiring me. I was so bashful, it was pitiful. I just wanted to be like the others and not be singled out for anything. No matter what. I never did want any special attention. I was painfully bashful. So, I guess these were the real reasons I quit school. As I said earlier, I missed nearly 2 years of school so that’s why I was 18 years old when I started back to school in the first year of High School, the 9th grade. The rest of the kids were 14 and 15.
Gene started back to High School also, but he didn’t go very long. He got hit in the face with a baseball one day and it broke his nose. I guess it just got him disinterested, so he quit. We both had the road open for us there in Valley View, Texas. It didn’t cost one cent to go. A bus picked us up within 14 miles from our house and the books didn’t cost anything, like they did in Oklahoma. The pencils and paper were even furnished. So we had no excuse. Our Dad kept telling us to get our education, so we wouldn’t have to work hard when we’re grown, like he did all his life. But I quit in December, after I was 19 years old in September. I was writing to Jimmie and the disappointments I had at school, all of it combined, made me begin to think about getting married. So one day when Jimmy came over to see me, that was in December, just before Christmas, we went for a ride out in the country. He was real bashful and so was I. So, he asked me what I wanted for Christmas, and I thought real quick. “There’s my chance to let him know I wanted to get married. So I answered, “I’ll give you three guesses?” He guessed a guitar, his second guess. When I said “No” then a few seconds later, he began to get the drift. And then he said, “Do you want me?” And when I said “Yes” he began trembling all over, as though he had a chill. He still didn’t even as much as kiss me. We were just holding hands. Then when he calmed down, we began making plans, as to when we would get married. He said, “I’ll set the month and you set the day.” So I said, “OK”. He asked if October was OK? And I said, “No way, if we have to wait that long, just forget it!” So he said, “Well, you set the month and I’ll set the day”. I said “February”. He said “February 2nd.” So that’s when we got married.