When my dad was a teenager, he spent his summers in
Fay, and did farm work with his uncles and cousins. He worked with his uncles:
Gene, Alphonse, Les and Check. Check was six years older than him but as Don
got older they were able to go places and do things together. I got to meet
Uncle Check because I spent a week with his family one summer during high school. It
was his son Grant or “Bud” who went through the engineering school at OU, and
then decided to be a teacher so he could work closer to home.
Don worked with his Uncle Gene most often.
Early on, before farm machinery was available, Gene worked with mules. Don told
me that mules were stronger than a horse but they were mean and hard to work
with. They would bite you or lean against you in their stall. Don claimed that
Gene used to hit them with a board every morning just to show them who was
boss.
One summer Gene took his family on a vacation to
Colorado, and he hired Don to take care of his farm while he was gone. Since Don didn’t have any sisters, he spent a lot of time in the kitchen
with his mother growing up, and he was a good cook. I used to love his fried
chicken. He always skinned them first. When I asked him why, he said to me, “If
you knew how nasty chickens are you wouldn’t want to eat their skin either. Anyway,
while Uncle Gene was gone, Don fried a chicken for himself every day.
Wheat is one of the main crops around Fay, and Don
told me a funny story once about working with his uncles harvesting wheat. He said that while they were taking a break, someone, I think it was Uncle Les, started
frantically trying to get out of his overalls. When they asked him what was wrong,
he yelled out that a centipede was crawling up his leg. It was a struggle
getting his overalls off over his boots, but when he managed it he discovered
that the “centipede” was actually a head of wheat that had gotten stuck next to
his leg.
If Don had a favorite uncle, it would have been his
uncle Les, Lester Morse, who was married to Grandmother’s sister Imogene, or
“Imo.” As a boy, Don admired prize fighters. His heroes were boxers like Jack
Dempsey and Gene Tunney, and he especially idolized the professional wrestler they
used to call “Strangler” Lewis. Don’s fascination with Uncle Les probably arose
from the fact that Les had been a carnival strong man during his youth. When
the carnival came to a town, Les would take on all comers. For a dollar you
could get in the ring with him, and if you stayed there for three minutes you
could win five dollars.
Uncle Les really was strong. Don said that he could
load a 500 pound bale of cotton onto a truck single handedly. He’d put a hook
under one of the metal bands around the bale, then hoist it onto his back and up on the truck.
Les didn’t farm. He owned the ice house and the filling
station in town, and for a while I think he was the postmaster. In spite of
Uncle Les’ experience as a fighter, Don said he never saw him actually fight
anyone. The closest he came was one day when a guy who was hanging around the
filling station started throwing his weight around. Les told him to settle
down, and so the guy challenged Les to a fight. Les ignored the challenge, but
the man wouldn’t leave him alone, so finally Les just twisted his arm up behind
his back, dragged him over to the water hydrant, and hosed him down.
Uncle Les taught Don how to box too, and Don became
his protégé. Every weekend when the farmers and their families came into town
for supplies, Les would host boxing matches out behind his filling station. This
time it was Don who took on all comers. He fought all the tough farm boys in
the county. Don got so good that Les tried to talk him into becoming a
professional boxer.
Probably the most exciting adventure that Don had
with his uncle Les was one day when they went together to deliver ice. Don was
just a small boy at the time, and he felt pretty special getting to go out with
his uncle on his deliveries. Just a few miles north of town there was a pretty
big hill, and since the truck was fully loaded, its gears were straining by the time
they got to the top. The truck picked up speed on the way down the other side of the hill, so Les started pulling on the brake, a lever that extended up through the
floor, but the truck didn’t slow down. Something was wrong. Les pulled harder and
harder, but the brake was stuck. He had to slow the truck down, because going
straight wasn’t an option. At the bottom of the hill was the Canadian River,
and there was no bridge. Les knew that the weight of the ice could easily turn
the truck over. As the truck went faster and faster Les pulled on the brake
with both hands. Finally, unable withstand Les= great strength, the brake lever just came off in his hands. Don said the
truck leaned over to one side as they turned the corner, but they didn=t go into the river.
(Sorry, I don't have a picture of Uncle Les)
No comments:
Post a Comment