The Autobiography of Claude Dickens, part nine

From my father's memoires, lightly edited by me

It was said that Father went to see Mother on a Sunday, then went back the next Sunday with a marriage license and they got married. He was 34 and she 25, so they had no time to waste.

My oldest sister, Nettie, was born just nine months after Father and Mother married and Hettie, the next girl, was born the following year of 1902.

Well, it seemed that the good lord smiled on our family, for all that were born lived, while other families were not so fortunate. In those days, half the children died within the first or second year of life. Sanitary conditions were not good and doctors hadn’t learned how to protect children from typhoid fever, measles, whooping cough, diphtheria, and a host of other ailments that children are protected from today.

We lived upon a bench of a mountain, got our drinking water from a deep well, and lived on natural food raised there on the farm. 

Most mothers chewed for their babies in those days. Mother chewed for me before I had teeth to chew for myself. There were no prepared foods for babies then, and of course babies couldn’t eat peas, corn, onions and vegetables without someone first chewing it up. A neighbor woman, Mrs. Mary Hart, chewed for me when visiting with Mother.

I remember going to Waldron with Father when I was 4 or 5 years old. He rented a place in a wagon yard to feed his horses and also we had a bunk to sleep on. He left me there in the wagon while he went up town to buy something. At that time, I wouldn’t talk to strangers or even very little to anyone. Two young men came along and asked me my name and where I lived. I wouldn’t talk, so one of them took a pistol out of his pocket and began putting cartridges in it. It scared me! He then said to the other man, “I’ll just shoot him”. I let out a scream that could have been heard a block away. When I did that, the other one said, “We’d better get out of here!”  Just about that time, Father came back and asked me what I was crying about. I wouldn’t tell him, so he never did know what had happened. If he had caught them, I’m sure there would have been plenty of trouble.

I remember Jim Catlett shooting himself when I was quite young. He sat down on a bed, pulled off one shoe, put a 12 gauge shotgun to his forehead, and pulled the trigger with his toe. He must have flinched, for most of the pellets landed in the ceiling. He ran across a field and Sammy Vaughn, his little brother-in-law, ran after him hollering, “Come back, Jim!” Sammy got the blood stopped and bound up the wound. He wasn’t hurt real badly�"just addled. They got a doctor and he examined him and said, “My god, Jim, why didn’t you just shoot yourself an inch lower!” Well, Jim got over his wound when one day he begged his folks to let him go rabbit hunting with the gun. Finally, they let him go. He didn’t shoot himself again, but it was very cold weather, he caught pneumonia and died.

They were making his coffin there at Jim Starr’s blacksmith shop. We children came by when going home from school and Andrew Gipson, who was there helping make the coffin, came out and jokingly said, “Well, Jim Catlett died again.” I didn’t think it was a joking matter. Later my father bought the shotgun and it is still in my family. Bobby has it at Greenwood.

Editor’s note: My younger brother, Bobby, passed a few years ago, so I now have the gun. Bobby and I used to take turns using it to hunt when we were kids. It was made by the Diamond Arms Company, ST. Louis, Missouri. Copyright, 1913.

My family came from at least four nationalities. Mother was of Dutch and Scotch-Irish ancestry and Father was English and Cherokee. I’ve heard that mixed blood people are stronger and healthier than others, but I’ll leave that up to the experts. Father had Indian ways, didn’t talk much and very seldom laughed. He liked to hunt and fish and be in the woods a lot. He was very loyal to the ones he loved.

Mother was the kindest and most humble person in the world. She talked and laughed a lot. She often cared for the sick and would divide anything she had with them.

My two brothers and me put up a still to make moonshine, and when the mash got fully worked out and ready to be made into whiskey, Bob and me decided to see how much we could drink and still manage to walk home. We drank a whole lot of it (the mash) and got quite drunk. We got nearly home and lay down under a tree there on a branch and went to sleep. When we awoke, we found that the mash had run through us like a dose of salts and we were really in a mess. We got over it and made the moonshine the next day. Then we had something that didn’t purge us. 

We had some sheep we kept in a pasture and one old ram was bad to butt. One day I got out there playing around and this old sheep made a dive at me and hit me right in the rear and knocked me about five feet. I jumped up and started running and he got me a second time and I screamed and hollered like I was being murdered. Finally, I got out of there and reached the fence. I was very careful to keep out of his way from then on.

I liked school and had some very good teachers, but of course the eighth grade was as high as one could go. Very few ever finished the eighth and though I got there, I never did finish. (I kept going some when I felt like it)

I remember brother Dick and I walked home with Agnes and Sofia Brooks after a party one night, and I really thought I was in love with Sophia. She was 12 and I, 14. The next day, we went to see them at their brother’s house. We were hanging around there but too bashful to talk up the girls. Finally, Neal, their brother, said, “These girls are too young to go with boys”, so we took the hint and left. That was the end of my courtship for many years.

 

Reviews

[Lorry]

Life was certainly tougher for our parents than it was for us, and Jim Cartlett of course and I thought that was how life progressed... but I wouldn't want to be a kid these days, what with the cost of living, property becoming less affordable and who knows, maybe one of Trumps brood will run for future president!

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you. What a horrible thought. If a trump spawn runs, I'm coming to live with you.

[Lorry]

...just remember to roll the rock guarding the cave back in place when you do! 😃

[Samuel Dickens]

Of course! Wouldn't want all those sex-starved women getting in and messing our minds up!

[FlatDaddy]

An interesting read, Sam. My own father was one of eleven children, His father's family came from Wales, and must have been proud to be here because they named him Christopher Columbus. My grandmother was part Native American, but I'm not sure which tribe or how much; however, she had jet black hair worn in very long braids, and she looked exactly like those old pictures of "Indian Squaws" one used to see in magazines and old TV shows. My folks divorced when I was about seven and my mom didn't like to speak about family so I was mostly left with my imagination to figure it out. I decided to think that Superman was in the mix somewhere because for a while I looked a little like Clark Kent. I disproved my theory many times, though by numerous trips to the ER to get sewn up for quite a few misadventures.
Nice read, Sam.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you. My folks divorced when I seven, too, and Mom talked very little about her family. I had to get answers much later in life when I engaged in family research.

[FlatDaddy]

I wish I had done that, but I was too self absorbed then -- not at all how I am now. Now where did I leave my scepter ...