december star

8/13/2019 December Star

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North TexDecember 2013OUTDOORS ALONG THE BRAZOS: EVERYBODY WORE A LIFE JACKET

BOMBS AWAY DESDEMONA A TEXAS TANNENBAUM

CHASING OUR TALES to Cisco and Beyond


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December 2013 NORTH TEXAS STAR Page 2


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North TexasStar 4OUTDOORS ALONG THE BRAZOSEverybody Wore a Life JacketBy Don Price8CHASING OUR TALESto Cisco and Beyond

By Sue Seibert

14A TEXAS TANNENBAUMBy Randall Scott

10By Jim DillardBOMBS AWAY DESDEMONA

D b 2013 NORTHTEXAS STAR P 4


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Outdoors Along the BrazosBy Don Price

W e owned and operated a Western Union indowntown Mineral wells for nearly 40years, back when Judy Garland spent anight or two at Earl Baker's hotel, I think.

I really mean we had a mom-and-pop Western Autofor nearly 40 years on the main drag. My memory'sgone.

We catered to the wants of the outdoorsmen. Toratchet up sales we gave away a fancy, engraved, nick-el-plated Winchester Buffalo Bill 30-30 rifle or carbinefor the biggest set of white-tailed deer antlers each year.And also we awarded a handsometrophy for the biggest largemouthblack bass each month to a proudangler. Publicity and photographsappeared in several local newspapersfor many years.

Hunters and fishermen are greatpeople, but they tend to stretch thetruth a tad sometimes. All have sto-ries to tell.

The center aisle in our mom-and-pop store was travelled so muchuntil it was downright dangerous, atleast a foot deeper than in the otheraisles. Rolled up pant legs didn't dothe job; it took a life jacket for thesalesman. Man, it got deep.

We could have been sued. It wasrisky in the center aisle, so we issuedlife jackets at the front door when alocal angler was heading for thescales in the center aisle, dragginghis big-mouthed bass to be registeredand weighed.

Sometimes it got downright awe-some; each salesman was required towear his life jacket in the center aisle at all timesbetween 8 a.m. and 5:30 p.m. You were permitted toremove your life jacket during lunch breaks.

One of our best customers stretched the truth somuch he actually believed it himself. [He had a copyof Field & Stream Magazine rolled up in his back pock-et.] We never questioned him. Thankfully, we wereblessed with Consumer Reports life jackets, the best.

This same customer got mad somewhere around1947 because we didn't award a trophy for catfish. Aftersix months of protesting he began to sound like a pho-nograph record of Ernest Tubb on 78 rpm but played on33 1/3 by mistake. He sounded a little like one of

Charlie Goodnight's dying cows, I think... I"m not sureeither.But we were sure of one thing: we were sure of los-

ing our best customer if we didn't come up with a prize

for the biggest catfish.Continuation of our business establishment con-

cerned us. During a board meeting we decided to awarda trophy for the biggest catfish, but only for the store'ssurvival.

After having heard about the biggest catfish trophy,our "Ernest Tubb" began singing country and westernsongs early the next morning while in a wooden boat ata big deep stock tank. On the end of his line was arecord-breaking ole yeller. There were no other fish'cause ole yeller had eaten all the rest; he was big and

he was mean.Well, our best customer, yep, "Ernie Tubb," was in a

wooden rowboat about 100 yards out in this big, deepstock tank, and his fishing rod was bent double, whenhe suddenly pumped this heavy-duty tackle to haul oldyeller over the side and into his wooden boat. Old 331/3 rpm Ernie could hardly wait to grab the catfish tro-phy at our store.

But the fish was so big the stock tank went dry whenour best customer, yep, "Ernie Tubb," yanked him outof that body of water. The poor fellow had to slide thetrophy winning specimen over the side of his wooden

boat and back into the big tank in order to have enoughwater so he could float his boat back to the landing.

This is the gosh-awful truth. This is what he told us.He hadn't been drinking as far as we could tell.

So do you know what we did? We gave him the tro-phy anyway, and at the same time offered our condo-lences because of his humble decision of releasing thehuge catfish or being stuck in the muck forever.

Do you know what he did [this is the best part]? Toshow his appreciation of our attitude toward his humblesportsmanship, he bought every artificial lure we had in

stock, all the expensive rods andreels. He cleaned us out. He was sohappy to have been awarded the cat-fish trophy.

The moral of this story: the cus-tomer is always right, but keep yourlife jacket handy, just in case, espe-cially in this case; just rolling upyour pants' legs ain't near enough.

Story #2It happened near the middle of

the last century. Some memoriesstay locked in one's mind seeminglyforever, especially deer camp storiesand Brazos River float trips, some-thing hilarious perhaps.

I think it took place on April 1st,a bad date for an honest fishingstory. Old Lake Mineral Wells wasthe hot spot for those who knewhow to plug, but knowing structuregave the serious angler the edge,and a powerful 10-horsepowerWizard outboard got your littlewooden Skeeter there in plenty oftime to the mass of willows in the

upper end perhaps.My father, Cutter, was plugging Lake Mineral

Wells on April Fool's Day when he snagged a lunk-er; on the next cast he hooked another heavy fish,landing both of them.

The solar system tells us there is a major and aminor feeding period, rarely lasting two hours everyday. But not on this April 1st. My father caught big bassall day until he just got tired. So he cranked the oldWizard to aim for the boat house. In the little 12-footboat's bottom flopped a stringer of blacks most pluggerscould only dream about.

Late that same evening, April Fool's Day, Pete

Medlin and I drove out to nearby Lake Mineral Wells tosee how Dad fared on his quest [he plugged every day].He'd just killed the 10-horse and was gliding in to boatslip #4.

Everybody Wore a Life Jacket

Wearing a white shirt and tie is C.F. (cutter) Price,

owner of the WESTERN AUTO store in MineralWells. The stores grand opening was Nov. 30, 1945.

continued on page 6

December 2013 NORTHTEXAS STAR Page 5


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continued from page 4He showed us his stringer and we couldn't believe it; he

mentioned the intense experience and that he was actuallyworn out there was no major feeding period, no minorfeeding period, but an intense period lasting all day.

We asked him if we could use his boat; he agreed, plushe gave us his awesome stringer of largemouth black bass.

It didn't take us long to throw our tackle in the boat andstart the engine. The sun was setting and we had about an

hour no moon tonight, pitch blackness, it was going to be.We were heading to the rocky shoreline instead of the wil-low-infested upper end.

But let's do a little flashback here. Before we left theboathouse, Dad told us what we needed to know: where tofish, what plug to use, and how to use that particular lure.He even gave us his last two 1/3 ounce black-and-whiteSwimmin' Minnow lures, manufactured by Tackle Industriesof Shreveport.

These lures sink fairly rapidly. We'd been tipped off tocast, letting these Swimmin' Minnows hit the water within acouple inches of the big boulders, but hold our rod tipshigh, high as you could reach, and then reel in as rapidly as

you could.Doing as told would keep this rapidly moving black body,white ribbed lure so shallow (and so rapidly moving) it'dalmost break the surface. But not quite break the surface.You'd have to slow down a tiny bit if it broke the surface.black bass can be particular.

It was nearly dark when we got to the big boulders to cutthe 10-horse Wizard outboard. Little Pete Medlin hung thefirst one even before the boat stopped moving, a 4-poundfish, and I had a 3-pounder on before Pete could get his fishout of the water.

I guess an hour passed before we quit; I remember it waspitch black as there was no moon. Luckily for us Pete had aflashlight in his tackle box, a nice item to have when facedwith a backlash, some call it a birdnest. Some call it, well...

We had an eye-popping stringer of hogs [counting theimpressive stringer Dad had already given us]. Lake MineralWells just didn't yield that many bass in a single day.

Satisfied with our catch, we cranked the motor to flash-light our way back to the boat house. At the dock an old-timeangler saw the bass and said it was the best string he'd seencome out of our city lake since it was finished in 1922, builtwith mule-drawn fresnoes.

We had 24, all beautiful fish [thanks to Dad], and we puttthem in the trunk of Pete's car to head to his house to cleanthem. Bass are delicious table fare; we could hardly wait.

But before we got to Pete's house I suddenly rememberedan old fishing rival, a competitor I thought I'd fix for the restof his life. I told Pete to whip by the smart guy's house. Sureenough he was home. Showing aplomb and a bit of dash, weopened the trunk, knowing he would eat his heart out.

We knew he'd be flabbergasted, even nonplussed; weknew we'd have to wait patiently for the smart aleck to getover the knee-trembling shock, the hard evidence before hecould start shaking, let alone speak. We gladly put in freshflashlight batteries so he could be shocked more. Careful

now, we didn't want him to have a stroke.He hardly gazed at the mother lode, finally saying,

"Did I tell you about the 1-pound carp I caught lastweek?"

The sly rascal was making us feel guilty because wewere game hogs, fish hogs. So Pete and I rolled up ourpants' legs and donned our Consumer Reports life jackets.

The moral of this story: tread lightly.

Carl Forrest Price CutterMarch 16, 1900 - March 20, 1965



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Chasing Our Tales to Cisco and Beyond By Sue Seibert

Emma Le Veaux was pictured as a senior in theyearbook, Yucca, of North Texas State Normal

School (later to become the University of NorthTexas) in 1908. Her residence of record was Cisco, Texas,where she was living with her parents at age 13, in 1900.Her father was apparently not living with the family, butthe census noted that he had been born in Germany. Hehad, in all likelihood, died before this time.

The family in her household at the time were M.J.E.Le Veaux, her mother, age 46, who was also fromGermany; a sister, Lillie, who had been born in NewYork; and a brother, Louis, who, like Emma, had beenborn in Texas. Mrs. Le Veaux was listed as a widow whoimmigrated from Germany in 1872.

In 1910 I found Mrs. Le Veaux, spelled Levens orLebeau, now called Elizabeth, living with C.R. and L.D.Baugh. That was probably her daughter, Lillie. Also inthe home was Lillies daughter, Frances, age 6, andLouis Degenhard, who may be Elizabeths son. Emmawas no longer listed.

However, in 1910, I did find Emma, probably as arenter, in the home of Hugh L. and Mallie Taylor inCisco, along with Cate Daniels, Bettie Jean Walker, andVerna, Virgie and Annie Owen. At that time Emma was ateacher (after all, she had attended a Normal School).There were several other teachers in the house. She islisted as the Taylors daughter, but so are most of theothers, except Bettie Walker, who was listed as a board-er. This could have been for several reasons, perhaps fortaxes of some sort, or maybe the Taylors were not sup-posed to have a boarding house. I really dont know.

Hugh Taylor listed himself as a traveling salesmanwho sold insurance. Almost everyone on that page of thecensus listed themselves as a laborer from Mexico,except for a neighbor named McDonald, who was abookkeeper. That sounds odd, as I presume the censustaker was going from door-to-door when he took thecensus. Perhaps this was in an area of apartments orlodges of some sort, but Cisco is a small town with apopulation of only 1,514.

Twenty years later I discovered Mrs. Le Veaux, nowspelled LaVeax, still living in Cisco. It appears herdaughter Lillie, whose last name is now Bauger orBaugh, and a grandchild Francis/Frances Bauger, wasalso living in the same house. Evidently Lillie had beenmarried to Clarence R. Baugh, but he died in 1912.They had two children, Frances Edna Baugh andThomas Carleton Baugh. Thomas died shortly after hewas born in 1906, but Frances lived until 1941. Lillie out-lived both of her children.

The year 1930 found Elizabeth, now Devaux, and LillyDora Baugh, mother and daughter, still living in Cisco,but no one else was living with them.

There was little information on Elizabeth. It appearsthat she was born to Ludwig Degenhardt and ElizabethZeiss Degenhardt in Hanover, Germany, in 1854. She andher parents first lived in Carbon, Penn., when she was 6,and later, when she was 26, she was living in Bosque,Texas.

By 1940, when you would think writing, spelling andso on would have improved for census takers, I found

Lily G. (not D for Dora) Baugh and Elizabeth (last nameblanked out), living at 808 Avenue G in Cisco, where at

63, Lily was a postal clerk. The census noted thatElizabeth had three years of college.Ive got to stop here and note that the census takers

may not have had much more education than anyone else,and they simply spelled the names of the people as they

heard them. Also, their handwriting was such that one let-ter could not always be distinguished from the next.Further, the census takers got relationships, places ofbirth, and other things wrong. In all likelihood, however,the family name was Le Veaux, as that was the way it wasspelled in the Yucca of 1908.

I have found Louis Carl Leveaux in a family tree. Hewas Emmas brother. He evidently moved to El Pasobetween 1900 and 1910 where he married Mary W.Tisdale. He died in El Paso at the age of 86, on Dec. 13,1970. His wife, Mary, was born in Dallas, Texas, and herfather was born in South Carolina. She died in 1956 at theage of 62.

I have been able to find that Louis, Lilly and Emmas

father was F. Leveaux, who was born in 1849 inWrtemburg, Germany. By 1880 he was living in Bosque,

Texas, and Louis may have been called Degenhard in the1910 census because it appears his mothers maiden namewas Degenhardt.

I have found only one other reference to Emma LeVeaux, and that was in the Haskell Free Press on Aug. 13,1904:

From the way several members of the party speak ofit, there is no doubt but that the picnicking crowdWednesday had a great time. They drove out ten or twelvemiles to a shady and inviting grove on Paint Creek, wherethey spent all the warmest part of the day in dolce forniente neath the cool shades of the umbrageous canopyspread by nature. They were not altogether idle, however,as it is reported that they consumed unlimited quantitiesof ice cream and watermelons, besides the many goodthings provided by the young ladies. The following com-posed the party: Mrs. J.U. Fields and Miss Belle Rupe,Eld. C.N. Williams and Miss Lillie Rike, Mr. Joe Irby, andMiss Ethel Alexander, Mr. Emmett Robertson and MissBeulah Chambliss, Mr. Ed Whitaker and Miss HassieHudson, Mr. Roy Cummings and Miss Willie Chambliss,Mr. C.N. Porter and Misses Emma Le Veaux and KateChambliss under the chaperonage of Mr. and Mrs. Ed.Ellis.

Now I will focus on some more Texas people namedLe Veaux. Paul Le Veaux, who was born in Prussia, wasliving in Brazos, Texas, in 1880, not that far from Cisco.He was 30 at the time and listed himself as a farm-er. Those living in his home were Belle Le Veaux,Doshia Eustice, Maggie Eustice, Alevelda Cooly andLilly Cooly.

I found a Paul Le Vaux, who came from Cannstatt,Germany. He made application to come to NorthAmerica in 1869 when he was 19 years old.

I also found a F. Leveaux and Elizabeth Leveaux liv-ing in Bosque, Texas, in 1880, along with LillieLeveaux, age 3, M.A. Sullivan, and John Fonville. Ibelieve this is Emmas family before they moved toCisco. I have found a handbook from Hill BusinessCollege in Waco, 1902-1908, which lists L.C. Le Veauxas a student. This, I believe, is our Louis.

I have done some research on the Leveaux/Le Veauxfamily name, which, as I thought, is French. During theearly development of the French language, in the MiddleAges, a person gave his version of his name phoneticallyto someone who could write. Therefore, there are manyvariants of the name, but this name was first found inBrittany where the family seat was in honor of the sei-gneurie of la Burie.

There is quite a history of the family in both Canadaand in Louisiana; but my question is, why were they inGermany? This family came from Germany, possiblyfrom Prussia, which does not touch France. They cameto the United States about the middle of the 19th century.Why did they travel to Texas rather than to Canada orLouisiana? Why were these Germans called Le Veaux?

Thanks for reading. If you have any ideas, let me knowat [email protected]. Also, check out my novel, Hometo the Brazos, a mystery set in Palo Pinto County, Texas.


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10/24

Bombs Away

A s a kid growing up duringthe WWII era, I spent muchof my outdoor time playingeither cowboys and Indians orwar. The romanticized image ofcowboys, Indians and soldiers flashingacross the one and only picture

show in the small blackland farmingtown in Central Texas where I grew upfueled the flames of my imagination.Whether it was the Lone Ranger, GeneAutry or Roy Rogers racing throughthe rocky hills in pursuit of the badguys, or Audie Murphy lobbing gre-nades into an enemy machinegun nest,the silver screen brought them to lifeas my childhood heroes. Newsreelsthat played before the opening of themain feature and cartoons were usual-ly filled with scenes of airplanes, shipsand army tanks fighting in far offplaces. My battle cry of Bombs AwayTokyo and the smell of caps poppingin my trusty toy pistol still reverberatein my mind.

Similar experiences were shared byyoung boys and girls throughout the country duringthat troubled time in our countrys history. Believingthat the good guys always won or the battles resultedin victory for our side bolstered our sense of security.After all, the war was far away across oceans and ourcowboy heroes would always prevail to fight anotherday in their quest for justice and honor. However, thatsense of safety was jeopardized on March 23, 1945, forpeople near the small rural community of Desdemonain southeastern Eastland County when a Japanese bal-loon bomb drifted to earth. On that day, Desdemonasreputation as an oil boomtown took on a whole othermeaning.

When 15 year-old C.M. (Pug) Guthery got off theschool bus at his rural home just south of Desdemonaon that day, he saw something descending in the south-eastern sky that he described as looking like a giantbasketball. Whatever the object was, it landed south oftown about 2 miles from the cemetery and just across

the Comanche County line. Men working at theMagnolia Refinery near Desdemona also saw it. It wasalso seen by Inez Heeter who had signed up as aCivilian Air Observer during the war. She was certainit was not a weather balloon since it had the emblem ofthe rising sun of Imperial Japan on its top. When shereported the sighting to the military officer she was tocontact in the event she saw anything suspicious in thesky, he was skeptical.

Pug Guthery and several other children raced to thescene of the crash where they found a large balloonflattened out in a field with grass ropes attached to agondola-like apparatus on the bottom. When heapproached it, he smelled a strong odor of creosote andstayed away from it, but other children took pieces ofthe balloon as souvenirs. Fortunately for the children,bombs that had been attached to the balloon hadalready dropped at another location.

One bomb was reported to have dropped in a BrownCounty pasture creating an 8-foot-deep crater. Another

exploded in the air in Comanche Countyfrom a balloon that passed betweenDeLeon and the small community ofComyn. A third unexploded bomb wasfound buried 6-feet-deep in a field justnorth of DeLeon. Other witnessesreported hearing an explosion south of

DeLeon that day but at the time believedit was only a fuel tank explosion. Whenmilitary officials came to the area thefollowing day they retrieved the remainsof the two balloons but provided littleinformation to local people about whatthey were or where they came from.They also collected all the pieces of theballoon the children had taken from thecrash site. The following day a muchlarger balloon bomb was found by cow-boy Ivan Miller on the Barney DavisRanch 8 miles north of Woodson insoutheastern Throckmorton County. It,too, had the emblem of the rising sun ofImperial Japan on its top and at variouslocations around the bottom.

After the United States bombing raidsof Tokyo during April 1942 by Col.

Jimmy Dolittle, it is believed the Japanese developed aplan in retaliation to demoralize the American publicand perhaps cause civilian deaths and start hundreds offorest fires in the Pacific Northwest. The Japanese hadlearned from their high-level flights during the warover the Pacific Ocean that their airplanes used half thefuel going east as they did on their return flights. Theyhad discovered an upper-level air stream (jet stream)that flows at 30,000 feet across the Pacific from Japantoward North America.

The Japanese fusen bakudan (Fu-Go or balloonbomb) was developed by the Imperial Japanese ArmysNumber Nine Research Laboratory under the directionof Maj. Gen. Sueyoshi Kusaba and Technical Maj. TeijiTakada. The balloons would be launched into the jetstream to travel across the Pacific Ocean in three daysto drop bombs and incendiary devices to kill

continued on page 12

Desdemona By Jim Dillard



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continued from page 10unsuspecting Americans, start forest fires and destroybuildings.

The first of over 9,300 balloon bombs werelaunched from Japan on Nov. 3, 1944, to coincide withthe Japanese Emperors birthday. Each balloon was 70

to 80 feet in height, 33 feet in diameter and filled with19,000 cubic feet of hydrogen gas. The balloons weremade of washi, a durable and impregnable paperderived from mulberry bushes. The paper was made insquares about the size of a road map and glued togetherin three or four laminations using edible konnyaku(devils tongue) paste. The paper was made in manylocations across Japan, some by young teenage girls,and assembled into balloons in sumo halls, sound stag-es and theaters.

Each balloon carried four incendiary bombs for start-ing fires and one 33-pound fragmentary anti-personneldevice. The sophisticated electrical control mechanism

and bombs were suspended below the balloon by fiberropes. Altimeters regulated the balloons altitude bytriggering bags of sand ballast to drop when the bal-loon descended below 30,000 feet. If a balloon rose to38,000 feet, an altimeter would release hydrogen tobring it to a lower altitude. After three days when theballoons would likely be over the United States andmost of the ballast expended, a flash of gunpowdertriggered the release of the bombs and lit a 64-foot fusethat hung from the balloons equator. After 48 minutesanother flash explosion would destroy the balloon.

Of all Japanese balloon bombs launched from main-land Japan between November 1944 and December1945, only around 300 were reported to have reachedNorth America. Sightings were made in Alaska,Washington, Oregon, California, Arizona, Idaho,

Montana, Idaho, Wyoming, Utah, Colorado, Texas,Kansas, Nebraska, South Dakota, North Dakota,Michigan, Iowa and other places in Canada andMexico. Due to their random flight pattern, most thatactually detonated bombs did little or no damage tocivilians or property. A few balloon bombs were shotdown by P-38 and P-40 fighter planes before theycould detonate on the ground.

There was only one reported case where fatalitiesresulted from Japanese balloon bombs in North

America. On May 5, 1945, Pastor Archie Mitchell, hispregnant wife, Elsie, and five Sunday school childrenwere out on a picnic in the forest of Gearhart Mountainin southern Oregon. While Archie parked the car, hiswife and the children searched for a suitable picnic siteand discovered a strange balloon lying on the ground.

As they approached it, a bomb detonated killing all six.These were the only Americans killed on United Statessoil from enemy action during World War II. Just 135days after bombs fell near Desdemona, the UnitedStates dropped the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima and10 days later Japan surrendered.

In 1976 there were still 90 wells pumping oil andnatural gas from the Desdemona Oil Field and a MobilOil plant producing butane. Today it would be hard tofind a field of peanuts growing anywhere in the sandycountry around the town where once they were thecash crop. Hog Creek still runs a little water when itrains and the hum of traffic on Highway 16 breaks the

monotony of the day for the few people who still livethere. For the most part, things are quiet now inDesdemona, with only two businesses still in operationin the small community. About all that can be seen inthe skies around Desdemona these days is a cluster ofwind turbans on the hilltops northeast of town. There isno historical marker or other evidence of the event thatalmost made the old oil boomtown of Desdemona areal BOOM-town!

Sources: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fire_balloon;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Desdemona,_Texas;http://www.texasalmanac.com/topics/history/bomb-

ing-texas; DeLeon Messenger: September/Octoberissue 1995.



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14/24

By Randall ScottA Texas Tannenbaum

3508 Hwy. 180 E 940-325-3253 Mineral Wells, Texas

We wor k on ATVs!!

Moments after final exams, the usual romp

and ruckus on my school campus fell eerilysilent. Probably the last person to leaveAbilene Christian College, I left with my cars soundsystem blasting country music star Charlie Richs newhit single Behind Closed Doors. The highway was allmine, or so it seemed. With each mile driven there wereflurries of ice pellets and high winds obvious to some-one who noticed, but not me; I didnt let a little thinglike that concern me.

Thirty miles down the road Charlie was crooning,Hey, did you happen to see the most beautiful girl inthe world? By then, the wipers and defrosters crankedto their highest setting couldnt keep ice from accumu-

lating on the windshield. Sliding from one side of theroad to the other I slowed to a crawl just to keep itbetween the fences. I finally gave in and exited atHighway 281 and turned off the paved frontage roadonto Live Oak Road.

The less traveled farm-to-market road was glazedover with snow-covered ice and it was another 2 milesto my grandparents house. They lived on a cattle ranchin Palo Pinto County not more than 4 miles from theBrazos River and only 17 miles from Weatherford.Close to completing my journey home, I didnt want towake them at such a late hour.

They were Cedric and J.L. Odom, but to me, they

were Mom and Granddad. Glad to see me, they wereobviously surprised to have a late night guest in suchinclement weather and I apologized for the intrusion.Despite my objections Granddad stirred the fire alivewhile Mom warmed supper in the kitchen.

I felt odd that night, as if something was missing, butI couldnt quite put my finger on it. Maybe Id regrettedhaving awakened them, while on the other hand theylooked to be enjoying brisk activities for folks in their70s. Instead of sleeping through a cold dreary night,they looked happy to be serving hot coffee with goodconversation by the fireplace.

Granddad said itd been such a long night he wasntsleepy and had wanted to get up anyway. He asked meif I knew the shortest day and longest night of the yearfalls tonight on Dec. 21, and its called the winter sol-

stice. I thought to myself: Well, gee whiz, Granddad, I

didnt know that. He liked reading gee-whiz books,and he often spoke about interesting trivia like that, orat least, I believed Granddad was interesting.

Mom dragged her rocking chair near the hearth nextto the warm fire and sat sipping her coffee while shestared intently into the bright orange glow of burningcoals. We talked about our ancestors, and then sheasked me if Id ever heard of the Geupel Story. Not allthe details were clear, so I asked her to tell the storyagain. Besides, I enjoyed Mom telling stories about hermother and I anticipated it to be a real treat to hear herspeak of her grandfather, John Geupel (Guy-Pull).

She said it was exactly 100 years ago this month

when the Geupel Story took place. Strangely enough,the snowstorm tonight was similar to that same cold andwintry night in December of 1875. That was the nightJohn saved a pioneer family from freezing to death,which was the essence of Moms Geupel Story.

As the story goes, John was riding home from hisSanto Tin Shop after a long days work when he cameupon a wagon in the middle of the trail.

He thought it was peculiar for someone to leave sucha fine wagon abandoned on an isolated trail in the mid-dle of the Live Oak Community, but there it was. Thatwagon was none of his business, and besides, it was toocold to get down off his horse for a look-see inside.

But, luckily for the inhabitants, John did just that. Hebrought the young family home and nurtured themthrough the Holiday season, saving their lives fromassured death in the freezing cold.

The story intrigued me to know more about my great-great-grandfather, Grandpa Geupel. Mom was morethan eager to oblige my request with stories of Johnschildhood where he learned the trade of a tinner as ayoung boy in a German orphanage. At the age of 19 heleft his small village of Wunsiedel and boarded a trans-Atlantic sailing vessel, the Magdalena. Four weeks laterhe set foot on American soil for the first time at NewYorks Castle Garden wharf, on May 21, 1848.

Like so many others, John had immigrated toAmerica and brought with him the skills of his trade,ambition, and deeply rooted family traditions. He was

an easygoing man who took life as it came, she said,

and to exemplify it Mom quoted her grandfathersfavorite saying, It dont make no hoot. When familywas troubled with lifes difficulties, Grandpa couldsoothe their worries with a smile, a hug and his usualadvice, It dont make no hoot. And, when Mom quot-ed her grandfather, she would imitate his brokenEnglish in a German accent, and very convincingly, Imust say.

Mom said it was his love for Christmas that pro-foundly influenced her life. As a little girl, Mom heardhim tell stories of living back in Germany where theyattended holiday carnivals and festivals to celebrateChristmas. At these carnivals, bakers made shaped gin-

gerbreads and wax ornaments for people to buy as sou-venirs of the carnival and take home to hang on theirChristmas Trees. At the end of the day, carnival-goerswould picnic in the foothills of the Bavarian Mountainsand cut a tannenbaum to bring home and decorate forChristmas.

Thats what had nagged at me all night long. Therewas no Christmas tree. And, it was more than just a treemissing, there were very few decorations in their livingroom. Some that were obviously gone were my favoriteornaments from previous holidays, the ones I remem-bered as a toddler.

This was strange behavior for my grandparents.

Theyd celebrated Christmas with all the trimmings foras long as I could remember. I didnt say anything andpreferred not to make it obvious, so I ignored the sur-roundings and suggested we retire for the night.Granddad covered the fire with ashes to preserve somehot coals for in the morning and we went to bed to thesounds of howling winds.

I awoke to see the sun rise in a clear blue sky wheresunlight glistened over sparkling white snow. The beau-tiful countryside looked to be a scene right out of aNorman Rockwell painting. Bitter cold hit me when Istepped out back for firewood, but the winds were calmand warm sunshine felt good on my face.

The obvious had to be said, so when we sat down forbreakfast I mentioned their Christmas tree had been

continued on page 16


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DECEMBER 4, 1812Palo Pinto County cattleman Oliver Loving is born in Hopkins County, Ky. In 1843 hemoved his family to Texas, arriving in 1855 in what would become Palo Pinto County.DECEMBER 12, 1929Texas trail driver and Palo Pinto County cattleman Charles Goodnight dies at his winter

home in Phoenix, Ariz., aged 93.DECEMBER 21, 1861The Frontier Regiment a regiment or rangers formed to protect the northern and west-ern frontiers of Texas is authorized by the Ninth Legislature of Texas.DECEMBER 22, 1977Davidson Hardware on South Oak in downtown MIneral Wells burns along with theDamron Hotel to its west.DECEMBER 24, 1877Mineral Wells founder Judge James Alvis Lynch and family arrive in the area, travelingby covered wagon from the Denison area. As the story goes, while attempting to crossthe Brazos River from east to west, one of their oxen drowned and the other was struckby lightning. They turned back some 4 miles to camp in the site later to become MineralWells.



16/24

continued from page 14stolen. Mom looked down at her fried egg andGranddad paused, put his fork down, and looked acrossthe table at me. After a long silence he told me that therewere few cedars to be found in the pasture and none thatcould make a decent Christmas tree.

Granddad explained the drought was bad for all plant-life, but mostly for trees like cedars that spread their rootsatop the ground. And add to that his bulls broke limbs offat the base when they used them for backscratchers. This

didnt sound right to me. Having slain many of them withmy chainsaw, I didnt think there was much that could killa hearty cedar tree.

It wasnt easy. In fact, cutting cedar was a difficult jobat any age and especially for any elderly man. But I didntsay so. Instead, I asked Granddad where a man could finda decent Christmas tree, that is, if he were searching in thefreezing snow for one. His eyes squinted as if to questionmy sanity and then he looked down his nose at methrough the bottom of his trifocals. He answered me witha wave of his hand towards the south pasture anddescribed an abundance of cedar trees growing in thefence-line they shared with our kinfolk, Auburn andGeorgene Taylor. I knew where he was talking about andit was a long ways away on the far end of the ranch. Weusually went out together, but he was 73 years old andhad no business being outside in freezing weather. What Ineeded was a way to keep him safe inside while I huntedfor a Christmas tree.

My idea pleased him when I suggested feeding his cat-tle from horseback. That way, the pickup truck remainedparked in the garage and he stayed in the house. But Icould never keep anything from him. Granddad probablyfigured me out and knew I was Christmas tree huntingunder the pretense of feeding cattle. He pretended not toknow, but when he helped me collect my gear, Granddadsaid the broadax was in the woodshed. My hat was backin Abilene so I borrowed Granddads along with his heavycoat, gloves and scarf.

Big Red was never saddle shy. He locked his knees andwaited for me to sling it high over his back. At 13 handstall, that sorrel was a big horse and just the kind of ride Ineeded in deep snow. His was a double-cinch saddle andeach time I pulled a cinch taught, Red would take in adeep breath and swell up like a toad-frog. A poke in hisribs fixed that problem. Then, I took the double-edgedbroadax and shoved the handle through both cinch rings.He exhaled a blowing complaint, did his little intimidationdance, and then bobbed his head up and down in protest. Isimply ignored him.

Mounted high atop Red, I took inventory of my toolsand decided another lariat was needed for backup. Igrabbed it off the trailer gate as we rode by and hung itover the saddle horn. He wasnt too enthused with snow,which was made evident by his prancing about in a ner-vous trot. I suppose he didnt like the feel of snow on hishooves, and rightfully so hed never seen it before.

We left the backyard fence working our way down theside of a creek embankment sliding into belly-deep snow-drifts. He stood shaking half-buried in snow and voicedhis complaint in a fearful whinny. With a few soft words

of encouragement and a nudge to his flanks, Red leap-frogged three hops through the deep snow and across thedry creek-bed to the other side. Slipping and sliding, Redscrambled up the embankment and back onto flat land.

Once on level ground, Red bucked a halfhearted kickout of protest and I got the message loud and clear: no

more horse skiing. I looked around to see that Granddadwas right; cedar trees were more like squatty bushes thanfully shaped Christmas trees. Red launched into a trot thatsoon slowed to a walk on level prairie footing. Then mythoughts turned to supplies and equipment again. I waswishing for my sunglasses. The bright glare of sunlightreflecting off the snow was giving me a headache. Whatelse did I forget?

My mind wandered to Moms stories last night aboutGrandpa Geupel and his travels through Texas. Hed

found fellow countrymen in Waco and worked as a tinnerat the Rogers Plantation in Falls County. Mom said thatGrandpa could recite Silent Night in the German lan-guage, a Christmas song hed learned as a small boy backin Wunsiedel.

In the darkest hours of the winter solstice, ancient civi-lizations believed that evergreens would keep away witch-es, ghosts, evil spirits, and illness. They hung evergreenboughs over doors and windows to guard every opening.Legend has it that the triangular shape of the fir treedescribes the Holy Trinity of God the Father, Son andHoly Spirit.

People whod converted to Christianity began to reverethe fir tree as God's Tree and by the 12th century it wasbeing hung, upside-down, from ceilings at Christmas timeas a symbol of their faith. Thus began the tradition to dec-orate their homes with pine, spruce, and fir trees. Germansturned the tree right-side up and are credited for the tan-nenbaum tradition, which is to decorate indoor trees withhandcrafted Christmas ornaments.

Problem was there were no pine, spruce, or fir trees inthe area. So, it wasnt by choice that Germans used thelowly cedar - it was the only evergreen in Central Texas.And, it was Moms mother, Emma, whod carried on herfather, Grandpas, tradition to decorate a cedar Christmastree for the holidays.

A century later, that same family tradition was honoredby my parents. When I was a schoolboy I knew of noother Christmas tree than cedar trees. But without a doubt,they had a very special meaning to Mom and Granddad.Thats why Red and I were freezing it off in this snow-storm - we had to find them a Christmas tree.

Red traipsed through the barnyard of the old home-place and stopped in front of the barn. This is where Momand Granddad lived before they moved to the other end ofthe ranch. The old barn provided much needed storage forhis winter feed supply of hay and range cubes. I unbuck-led my gun-belt and draped it over the saddle to feedGranddads cattle.

Poor cattle still had snow on their backs and looked asif they truly appreciated lunch. But they were more thirstythan hungry and all 40 some-odd followed me to the stocktank. Yanking the axe from out of the cinch rings I walkedout onto the ice and swung it as hard as I could. Theimpact didnt even crack the thick ice. Chipping away atthe banks edge had broken open a small round hole, andthats when they charged. Slipping and sliding I couldntget out of their way and they knocked me sprawlingacross the ice.

They fought each other to drink from the small hole,and, eventually, one fell through the ice. Then, they all

charged out onto the ice. I skated to the other side forsafety and just in time to see the ice give way and sinkbelow the surface under the weight of all those cattle. Bythen, the whole herd was swimming around blocks of ice.Luckily, the water wasnt that deep and they crawled upthe side of the tank dam, but only after theyd drank their

fill. No telling how long those poor cows had gone with-out a drink.

Red and I continued traveling to the southwest on ourquest for the perfect tannenbaum. Some mean lookingclouds began to gather over the northern horizon in athreatening wintertime storm. That couldve put a hitch inmy giddyup, but I didnt let it discourage me. I was deter-mined not to turn back and keep going till the job wasdone.

This was probably one of those times when Grandpa

wouldve given his words of encouragement and said, Itdont make no hoot. Besides, the only distance we need-ed to go was across an old cotton field, over the hill, andinto deep forest where those cedars grew. And, ifGranddad said they were there, I had no doubt in my mindthose cedar trees were there and that I would find them.

My mind begins to wander when Im loping alonghorseback and again, I was thinking about Mom and herstories last night. She said Grandpa had a tin shop inSanto where hed pierce small holes through tin in theoutline of Christmas images (Santa, tree, elf, or candycane). The pierced tin was crafted into lanterns and whenbacklit by candlelight the images were projected on thewall. Some were designed to spin in a circle and it cast,what appeared to be, moving images dancing across thewall.

Decorations of all kinds were cutout, stitched and gluedfor tree ornaments. The general stores were huntinggrounds for old magazines with pictures, rolls of cottonbatting (cotton wool), and tinsel. Tinsel was invented inGermany around 1610. At that time real silver was used,and machines were invented which pulled the silver outinto the wafer thin strips for tinsel. By the 1870s, bothglass ornaments and tinsel were imported from Germanyand sold through catalog stores such as FW Woolworthand Montgomery Ward. It soon became a status symbol tohave glass ornaments on the tree - the more one had thebetter ones status.

Howling sounds perked up his ears and Red fidgetedhis hooves in a nervous prance. I unholstered my Colt andcocked it, just to be ready. This dense forest was dark andscary enough to spook anyone and then I heard themagain it was the howls of pack-wolves. Maybe notwolves, they couldve been wild dogs or coyotes, but likeGranddad always said, There aint no difference. Theycan all bite-cha.

Skirting around a Live Oak grove, the back fence-linewas in sight and I reined Red parallel to it. Within a fewhundred feet I saw something green up ahead and therethey were, beautifully full and thick cedar trees linedalong the fence. Some were just the right size, between 6and 7 feet tall, all of which gave me a wide selection tochoose from. Tying Red to a nearby tree, I chopped downa real beauty. In no time, I was back in the saddle with mylariat tied to the horn pulling a Christmas tree homethrough the snow.

Backtracking near the old barn lured bawling cows thatwanted to be fed again. I did a double-take to make surewhat I saw wasnt creatures from outer space. Their swimin the stock-tank had frozen into long ice cycles that hungfrom their horns, ears, and tails. Headed homeward along

the trail, snow began to fall and nighttime quickly turnedinto total darkness. With it, came a silence that only theclippity-clop of Reds hoofs were heard between swishingsounds of the tree dragging across snow.

I couldnt see my hand in front of my face and itcontinued on page 18



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STORIES & SNIPPETS continued from page 16 wouldve been total night blindness had it not been for fall-ing snowflakes. Tying the reins together I laid them over thesaddle horn and gave full control over to Reds surefootedguidance. By now, the temperature had fallen somewheredown in the teens.

Not wanting to catch cold, I removed Granddads felt hat

and slapped it across my knee to shake away a thick collec-tion of wet snowflakes. I wanted to dry it out, but the bittercold made me cram it back on my head. There wasnt a whis-per of wind blowing from any direction, which allowed forfree-falling snowflakes to slowly float to the ground. I madea game of catching one in my glove and releasing the snow-flake before it melted, but I could never do it.

Red abruptly stopped in his tracks and like the smokestack

of a locomotive, he snorted a long blast of frozen steam fromhis nostrils. We were home! Fumbling for the switch, I turnedon the lights inside the barn to locate the tree stand. I nailedit on the base of the tree-trunk and Red ate his extra helpingof oats while he watched me work. When I stood it uprightthe limbs spread outward into full boughs of thick foliage,and to my surprise showed no signs of damage.

Mom and Granddad had already gone to bed and wouldhave to wait until morning to see their living room adornedwith a cedar Christmas tree. It stood tall by the front door asif it were grown solely for that one purpose: to please mygrandparents. I spent the following days helping them deco-rate the tree and bringing down all of their old decorationsfrom the attic.

They thanked me, but the smiles on their faces had already

done that. I couldnt decide which one was pleased the most,Mom or Granddad. What was clear was that both relished aroom full of decorations. They could recall who gave themthe decoration and each one brought back fond memories ofChristmases past. They werent fancy and only a few wereilluminated, but all of them were well-crafted, nonetheless.And, not all of them were old. I asked Mom if GrandpaGeupel would approve of her new-fangled electrifiedChristmas tree lights. With a smile she replied, It dontmake no hoot.

Consultants:

(1) Junior Louis (J.L.) and Cedric (Taylor) Odom,(2) Emma Wynell (Odom) Erwin - daughter of Cedric andJ.L. Odom.

References:(1) THE CHRONOLOGICAL HISTORY OF THE

CHRISTMAS TREE, copyright 1986, The ChristmasArchives - by Countess Maria Hubert von Staufer

(2) Christmas Tree copyright 2012, EncyclopediaBritannica

(3) German Christmas Trees London Times December 20th 1842 p.1 [London, England]

Randall Scott, Author of The Tinner, is a member ofWestern Writers Of America, Western Literature Association,and Texas Historical Association. You can find Randall on the

Internet at http://Randall-Scott.com

Monday, December 6, 1934Mineral Wells Index

TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AGO

Something of a human interest story was developed at the post of ce one day this week, an inci-dent that caused some long faces and a few damp lamps among PostmasterCranfords jolly force.

Nearly two years ago a young boy of the city yielded to temptation and committed an act of forgerythat landed him in the penitentiary for two years. Otherwise he was a good boy, and had always beenand was of good family.

Of course his mother never forsook him, and no weather or other conditions prevented her calling atthe of ce for the letter which was invariably there from the son in the Texas penal institution.

By good behavior, the young man had gotten full measure of merit marks, and the result was that hewas released sooner than he thought. So when he was released he at once came home, not stopping to

write or otherwise communicate with the home folks.Thursday, the mother, with the devotion that only a mother can know, appeared at the window ofthat section where letters from A to M are handed out. The delivery clerk ran through the letters inthe usual way and shook his head. The letter was not there. He knew it wasnt, but the mother s appeal-ing face said as plain as words: Please look again. He looked even in a box of another initial letter just to please her. Other clerks had noticed the little drama and there was a good-sizedsympathy party formed there and then.

In an almost dazed and painfully surprised manner, the mother, with a last lookat the long rows of letter boxes, turned awayonly to nd herself in the arms ofher darling boy!

It is the policy of the Index to foster up, rather than parade the weaknesses ofmankind, and we here and now hope for and predict a useful life for the youngman, and that he will ever cherish his saintly mother, who, though a busy worldhad forgotten the boy and his trouble, never forsook him, but regularly wroteendearing and encouraging letters that doubtless in uenced him to so deport himselfas to be pardoned and restored to citizenship. In the years to come, when the hoaryfrosts of many winters have settled upon his head, he will remember the incident inthe Mineral Wells post of ce. So will the clerks.

This series of pieces from the past is meant to remind us of this areas uniquehistory. The material comes from old issues maintained at the Index of ce and is presented pretty much as it appeared in print. These papers are quite yellowed andbrittle, deteriorating from age. By publishing these pieces perhaps we can keep them

in play in the digital world for years to come. For clarity, some punctuation issueshave been addressed. Hopefully you will enjoy these tiny windows to the past.Feedback is appreciated and will be shared. E-mail [email protected] or send your letter to Mineral Wells Index, P.O. Box 370, Mineral Wells, Texas76068, attention publisher. You may also drop it by our of ce at 300 S.E. 1st. St.in Mineral Wells. Thanks for reading!



19/24



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