Tomatoes & Tractors-Living in Milton- Moving to Argonia-School Days- Dad's Old Tractors

Model 'M' Farmall

        TOMATOES & TRACTORS----The 2nd Milton memory was when I was 3-4 years old.  At the 1^st place in Milton on the east side  coming from Suppesville to Argonia.  The memory is of sitting on the back porch watching Dad work the field next to the house with an International Farmall tractor & springtooth.  The 2nd part is having a cold, cold tomato from the fridge in one hand & a saltshaker in the other, I can picture sitting on the back steps eating 4-5 tomatoes at a time while watching dad go round and round the field.  When the tomato was whole the salt just slid off the tomato skin but after the first bite you could really salt it down. 

      

The Milton Grocery Store

            LIVING IN MILTON---- Between  4-5 years of age, maybe, we moved to a house in Milton  a block west of the Baptist Church.  My great grandfather, John Haven & his wife lived  2 blocks north of the Baptist Church.  ‘Grandpa Haven’  would walk  to the corner where the Church sat.  I would walk over to the corner.  He would always have an apple, banana or orange, he would give  to me.  I would eat it while we walked 3 blocks to the post office where he would pick up his mail. 

       We crossed over the street so we did not walk by the house where we were living.  The house across the street from the church had a wrought iron ornamental fence & quite a number of trees in the yard.  Maybe we walked by it because it was one of the nicer yards in Milton. There was an old fashioned Drug Store in Milton with the counter, Sundae and Soda glasses and wrought iron tables & chairs that went with old Drug Stores.  We didn’t go there very often. I would plead with Mom to take me  but we only went  on rare occasions , ice cream was a luxury item that didn’t fit in our budget.  There’s another story, I was probably in my 30’s before my mother told the story.  There was a Grocery Store next to the Drug Store.  I remember the isles being long & narrow. Mom had gone to the store to buy groceries {I was quite young}, apparently she had been going down the isles & had left me on one isle & had gone to another, she started hearing me make these noises & decided she had better check on me,  She came around the corner & saw me squatted down with my pants down around my ankles, with something that looked like a large brown Cigar on the floor.  If you haven’t already figured out what it was, I will let you think on it for a while.

    We lived in another house in Milton, only a few months.  On the first road going west on the north side of Milton, about half way to where the road turns south. My last memory of Milton is visiting the school  as school was out in the Spring, the year I turned 7.  I remember a huge, wide stairway leading up to the classrooms.  For someone just about to start school it was a humongous building.

   

The old Milton Methodist Church

    PASTOR DAN BETTIS---was a pastor at the Milton Methodist Church.  At the mention of his name one thing comes to mind.  The story of the thief on the cross.  I don't know if it was a favorite sermon topic or  he preached a lot of funerals for people who found Salvation on their deathbed.  I  attended a lot of funeral at Milton Methodist Church with Mom & Dad & Grandpa & Grandma Stitt.  It is a piece of scripture that has become important to me.  I know a lot of Christians that have looked down their nose at people who have deathbed conversions.  But I have never felt that way.  Jesus told the one thief, “ Today  [meaning this very day] you will be with me in Paradise.”  I have used that scripture in talking to lots of people who say they have done so many bad things, that God can't or won't forgive them. Whether they really believe it or it's just a stall in making a commitment, I don’t know, but I tell them, they are totally wrong.   Among my Flair on Facebook is a button that says.  “You may have given up on God, but God hasn’t given up on you.” I am totally convinced he never does.”

     

MOVING TO ARGONIA---It was mid summer when I was 6 that we moved to a farm 3 miles north & one half mile east of Argonia, Ks.  Except for 2 years in the Army & the 4 years we farmed Mary's family farm  at Mayfield, KS, after we were married, my entire live has been spent living in the Argonia Community. Some memories are vivid from living on this farm.  One was fishin in the creek just east of the farmhouse.  My fishing gear was home made.  No luxury things like a cane pole, fishing string or fishhooks from the hardware store.  My pole was a tree limb.  The string was out of mom kitchen, my fishhook was the biggest safety pin I could find. I'd maybe dig a few worms for bait but I mostly caught grasshoppers on the way to the creek.   I never caught anything real big & they were always Sun Perch.  If they were big they would bend the safety pin & I would lose the fish.  But I didn't care if they were small.  I always threw them back & that was OK.  They would be there the next time I came fishing & I could catch them again.  When it rained, the water would run down the ditches creating little streams that would have lots of crawdads to catch. 

     Just across the road south lived a Mennonite family, they had a boy near my age that I played with.  They had a  long dirt driveway with Lilac bushes on each side.  We played a lot of games of marbles in the driveway,  we also played with homemade  toys.  Another playmate, Kenny Medlam,  lived 4 miles south.  On Saturdays he would tie metal toys:  trucks, tractors & implements on his bike handle bars and ride up to my place to play.  I had maybe a truck or tractor but not much else. 

      Another memory was the old wood stove. On winter mornings Dad would start fires in the stove in the kitchen.  I would grab my clothes, run for the kitchen & dress there.  The house wouldn't be warm so the side closest to the stove would be warm & the other side freezing.  You would take turns warming the front side & then your backside.  At nights mom would warm bricks on the stove, wrap them in socks or towels, tuck me in bed and put the warm bricks by my feet.  We never left the stove burning all night, the wood  would not last all night & we didn't want to start a house fire with a stove burning & everyone asleep. You started out at bedtime with a fairly warm room and ending up in the morning with a COLD bedroom.  Thew other thing was home remedies for sickness.  I remember mustard poltice and having mentholatum smeared all over my chest covered with a warm cloth.

         

SCHOOL DAYS---My school days were really uneventful.  I was I guess what you might call me a 3-S athlete, Short, Skinny, Slow.  In grade school my only memory was when the front of the school was about where the Army Tank is now in the Argonia City Park.  There was a ball diamond where the swimming pool is.  When we got in the 8th grade we boys came up with the idea to see who could hit a softball hard enough and far enough to break out a window in the school house when we were out for recess playing softball.  One of our classmates, Joel Beard, was the only one who accomplished it.  Actually he did it twice.  We didn’t have Jr. High ball teams back then, only High School & that was Football, Basketball & Track. Before I graduated from High School there was Girls Basketball but they only played Half Court. 

     The High School I attended was on the empty lot north the Randall’s House at the corner of Main & Allen.   In High School  I was involved in music and Junior & Senior Play.   Mom didn't want me going out for sports.  She didn't want me getting hurt. I grew several inches during the summer between my Sophomore & Junior year.  So I went out for Football.  I got hurt, but not during a game.  We were playing  football during lunch hour and someone clipped me from behind.  Which pinned my legs to the ground and my upper body went backwards.  My old family Doctor, Dr. Craig, said what happened to the muscles was like taking a piece of elastic and pulling it so hard that it took all the stretch out.  He said it would do no good to operate.  You could shorten the muscle but not restore the elasticity.  I was on crutches from about Sept.  Of my Jr. year until April of my Sr. Year.  I couldn't run, only jog because of the muscle and I have been that way the rest of my life.   

   

THIS IS HOW YOU DO IT----This happened on the first day of school when I was in the 2nd grade and my cousin Lloyd Paxson was starting 1st grade.  We had a slide at the Grade School that was higher than any slide I've seen at a school or park anywhere in my life.  The platform at the top of the slide must have been between 10-12 feet off the ground, no kidding!

Lloyd and other 1st graders were intimidated by it's height.  I was trying to convince them all that it was a 'Piece of Cake'.  So to show them how easy it was I started scrambling up the steps grabbing ahold of the rail as I went.  I got to the top step, grabbed for the rail that arced up and over between the last step and front of the platform where you sat to go down the slide.

I Missed!!   The toe of one shoe had caught on the last step, but only enough to send me sailing under the railing towards the ground.  I happened so fast and the trip to the ground was so quick there was no time to prepare for a landing.  I did however land flat on my back, body fully stretched out. I hate to think what would have happened if I had landed on an angle, head making contact with the ground first and doing something to my neck.    Anyway there I was laying on the ground and my whole body ached like it had never hurt before,  I was afraid to move, actually I don't think I could.  A bunch of kids gathered around and ask,  ''Are you alright?!!''   I replied,  ''Yeah I'm fine!!'' , big lie.   The truth was I couldn't hardly breath.  I was taking in air in little sniffs,  it hurt to much to try and breath normal.  I lay there for several minutes gasping, but trying not too, for air, till my body got regrouped and then I got up.  Needles to say that was the end of going up the slide during recess, possibly the whole day.  Lloyd sure didn't go down the slide that day and I'm sure it was some time before he tried it.

 EATING AT THE CAFÉ--- When I was in grade school there was no cafeteria at school, we either brought our lunch in a brown paper bag, a lunch pail or ate downtown. I took a lot of lunches, however I remember eating some at a little café the 'Gingham Girl ran by a Mrs. Reynolds,  1 door south of the Bank.  It was very narrow, there were only room for tables  for two along one wall  and a long narrow counter and stools.  My mom insisted I get a Hot Roast Beef Sandwich so I had bread,  meat and potatoes & gravy,  it was also one of the most inexpensive things on the menu.  I would really get tired of it so once in awhile I would sneak in a hamburger & fries.  The lady that ran the café would keep the tickets till the end of the month and mom would go in and pay them, mom would look to see what I had been eating.  I might get by with  a couple of tickets for Hamburgers & Fries, if there were more I would get a lecture about not eating healthy food.  To her a Burger & Fries were not nourishing.   I would have to promise to eat more Hot Beef Sandwiches the next month.


IT TASTES LIKE COTTON-- This happened at either Jr. Hi. or early High School.  It involved 4 of us I think, cousin Lloyd Paxson, Francis Funk & Archie Crouse & myself.  We were walking down the Santa Fe R.R. tracks towards the Chicaskia River.  When we got to the R.R. Bridge that crossed the river for some reason I and one other went down the embankment and walked toward the river.  The other two were walking across the bridge.  One of them on the bridge yelled something. 
I looked and yelled, ''What??''.  My mouth was still wide open  when it was hit by a stream of liquid.  I don't think I really saw what was happening but I knew what had happened.  I jumped back and started spitting!!!  Someone up above hollered down, ''What did it taste like, Larry?''  I don't know I really thought about about it I just shouted,  ''It tasted like Cotton!''  Of course everyone got a big laugh out of it expect me, I didn't see much humor in it.


ROCK BOTTOM--- Since I mentioned the River, I'll include what was called 'Rock Bottom'.  You went to the first road that goes west at the south end of Argonia.  About a mile or so it comes up to the Chicaskia River the road turns north but if you continued west through a small area of pasture you came to Rock Bottom.  For quite a stretch there was a layer of shale in the river.  Above it was sand, there was a little drop off waterfall type bunch of rocks and then it was sand again.  You could sit down at the water fall and get a little slide for 3-4 feet  It wasn't very long or high but it was fun.  People would drive their cars out on the shale just above the little falls and wash their car.   There might be 3-4 cars being washed at the same time.  At night there were sometimes bon-fires and people drinking Colorado Kool-Aid around it. 
     People didn't use it in my time but about a half mile north up the river was another shale bed and in my dad's generation a dirt road [not maintained] led up to both sides of the river and people would drive across the river, otherwise you had to drive 4 miles or so to get around the river on maintained roads to get to Argonia.

 DAD’S OLD TRACTORS--- I guess I should have expounded on Dad’s old tractors. Driving those old International 

W-30, Twin City 16-30 [Minneapolis/Moline]    were a physical and mental challenge of epic proportion.  Later the old U-M&M’s,  &   AR--John Deere were a challenge.  I was driving an old International W-30 before I went to school.  So that would mean I was plowing by the time I was 6 years old.
     
 There were two things about that old W-30, first the clutch was almost beyond reach.  I would grab the lower part of the steering wheel with both hands. Slide forward till I was no longer on the seat but on the piece of flat iron that bolted the seat to the tractor housing so that my hands were up against my chest.  Then using the part of my foot right behind the toes I would push in on the clutch. Turn lose of the steering wheel with my right hand and quickly try and put the gear shift lever in the proper slot.  I had to be fast or either I wouldn’t get it in  gear & have  to release the clutch and start all over again or my leg had lost it's strength & I couldn’t let out on the clutch slowly enough & the tractor would lurch forward.  Secondly,  the steering was so hard.  Every once in awhile while plowing when going around the corner furrow I couldn’t get the front  wheels straightened back out in time to go straight.  If I was extremely, extremely lucky I might get them straightened up right after they came up out of the furrow, but that would leave a little patch of unplowed ground, if not the front wheels would just push up dirt going around & around in a circle and it was beyond hope.  The remedy for that was to climb up right behind the gas tank and reach, stretch is probably a better word, waaaaay down under the gas tank and turn off the gas valve.  I had to hang on for dear life during that as the tractor might make it around to the furrow again & there would be a big bounce, even with the throttle as slow as possible.  After the valve was shut off I could get back in the seat & wait for the tractor to suck all the gas out of the bulb & die, then wait for Dad to catch up on the other tractor, turn the fuel back on, start the tractor and get it back in the furrow and off I would go again, for awhile.  That ole W-30 was my biggest nightmare.  All the tractors had weak brakes that stopped in about twice the distance that it should take so you were always having to gauge the stopping distance to make sure you didn’t hit anything, truck, combine, car, tree, fuel storage tank.  Once in awhile you would gauge the distance, apply the brake and then have it quit completely.  Tress just lost a little bark, but cars, truck & other vehicles got a new dent if they were in the path & couldn’t be avoided.

     
 THE PARTY LINE-- After moving to Argonia I have memories of the ‘Party Line’ Telephone, 6 neighbors I think.  The phone had a crank. Each family had a series of rings.  For a long ring we used about 4 rotations of the crank, for a short ring 1-2 rotation.  Someone might have two longs & one short [---- ---- -],  Another,  two shorts, a long, & a short.[- - ---- -].  Not every one used the same number of rotations, you might answer the phone & find they were trying to call another neighbor.   Of course everyone knew everybody’s ring so you knew who was being called.   You could listen in but had to time it just right when you picked up the phone when the neighbor answered or they would hear a click & know someone was listening in.  
  There was always a busy body or two that had to try and listen in on all the calls, but my mom usually didn’t listen in unless someone had been sick or someone in the family was in the hospital.  She would want us kids to pick up the phone, dad always got after her if she did,  but then she would listen or have us listen & then want to know everything that was said.  Dad would always get after her for listening, but she would make an excuse like, “Virginia has been sick and I wanted to see if she was better”.  I think when we moved to the Dairy Farm we got the new rotating dial phone.  Farm wives couldn’t pick up any news off the Party Line, they had to call or go

visit.

 ARGONIA CREAMERY &  STALEY’S PRODUCE---There were two Argonia business in operation during my growing up years that come to mind most often.  The Creamery run by Jim Copeland. [ white Bldg. N. of Dentist  Office.]  We would take in milk & cream to be sold for a little spending money.  He always had two pieces of candy in a dish for kids.  One, the mini ‘Bits of Honey’,  the other was the mini ‘Peanut Butter Bar’. We took eggs to Ed Staley’s Produce [across the street from Conklin’s Automotive] & bunches of hens. We would tie one leg from about 6 chickens together and toss them in the back of the pickup & take them to Argonia.  Ed would have crates of chickens stacked around the place so there was always squawking chickens.  Ed had a truck and he would take crates load of chickens to Wichita to sell. He would also bring back sacks of feed for all types of farm animals to sell in Argonia.   We bought our farm fuel from a delivery truck ran by Clayton Showalter that operated out of the Champlain Station ran by Leo Koehler [ Dentist office  now].  We got the car serviced at the Standard Station [Dance Studio there now.]  Alfred Johnson ran it.  Getting candy or soda at either station was a rare treat.  Soda was usually a fruit flavor, or Root Beer [10 cents], candy was usually penny candy often liquorish or jellybeans.  Candy bars were extremely rare, they cost 5 cents.  Maybe an Almond Hershey, Butterfinger or Baby Ruth on rare occasions.