Lately I have been rereading my book, the one about
my mother and her family, looking for errors, awkward sentences, etc., and I
discovered a really interesting story that I just have to share, even if it
means interrupting the story of my dad’s life.
In the chapter I just finished editing, my mother Wenonah
is telling about a time when she was ten. It would have been about 1923. During that year her older sister,
Kaliteyo, who was thirteen, had a toothache. The toothache kept getting worse,
until a swelling developed under her jaw. One day she was riding a horse across the yard, forgot to duck and a tree branch struck her right
under the jaw, knocking her off the horse.
Kaliteyo wasn’t hurt by the fall, but the limb of
the tree punctured an abscess that had extended from the root of her sore tooth
completely through her jaw bone. I remember the scar. Grandmother ran outside
when she heard the commotion, and saw pus and blood running down Kaliteyo’s
neck.
Well, Pauls Valley didn’t have a permanent dentist
at the time – that’s the reason Grandmother hadn’t gotten help sooner, but
after seeing the huge abscess she knew she had to do something. It just so
happened that a dentist had just rolled into town, in a Pullman car. I found a
picture of the car in a Pauls Valley. Centennial brochure.
My mother told me that Grandmother let her go along
when she took Aunt Kaliteyo to see Dr. Laird, so she got to see the inside of
the Pullman car. She told me that the inside was really fancy. It
had beautiful velvet drapes with tassles on the pull cords, and elegant rugs
and furniture.
Oh, by the way, Dr. Laird pulled Kaliteyo’s tooth,
and her jaw eventually healed, even though it took a long time and a lot of
follow up visits to Dr. Laird.
The other thing that my mother mentioned was that
Dr. Laird had a daughter who played the harp. She told me that she heard her play
and that she was very good.
I found out a little more about Dr. Laird from a brief note on the
Pauls Valley Centennial brochure. It says there that Dr. Laird’s daughter, whose name was
Mignon, went on to become a professional dancer in New York City. I didn’t look
into the story any further at first. It did strike me as funny to imagine
Mignon running and leaping through a railroad car, trying to practice her
dancing.
But on rereading my chapter, I got curious about
Mignon’s career, so I “Googled” her. Isn’t the internet a wonderful thing? The
first thing that I encountered was the Mignon Laird Municipal Airport, in
Cheyenne, Oklahoma. She had an airport named after her!
Digging deeper I found a book about the Katy
Northwest Railroad which describes a local service they ran from town to town
in Oklahoma. The book says that Dr. Laird used that service to move his Pullman
car from town to town. Also, according to the book, Dr. Laird did a lot more than
pull teeth. He put on “medicine shows” by which I suppose they mean he sold
some kind of tonic which was supposed to heal whatever ailed you, and part of
the show was Mrs. Laird and Mignon giving readings and singing, and Mignon
playing the harp. It might have been at one of these performances that my
mother heard Mignon play.
In looking for information about Mignon’s career, I
found a blog by a lady named Laura Haywood about the “Ziegfield Club” which was
a group of ladies in New York who had performed in the Ziegfield Follies, and who
would get together from time to time to reminisce. Ms. Haywood attended some of
the club’s meetings and got to know Mignon Laird, who was one of the club’s
charter members. Mignon’s told her that her act consisted of dancing with her
harp, which she somehow managed to play at the same time.
Mignon was also part of the cast of a broadway show
called “Who Cares” which played for 32 performances in 1930.
Finally, I found on the New York Public Library site
a spectacular photograph of Mignon, playing the harp and dancing in the
Ziegfield Follies!