Memoir Monday, Dec 27 1960

This has been going on weekly since a bit before the holidays last year. After wading through some 52+ Memoir Mondays, do any of  you want to keep on? I suppose I can as it is not a really taxing project but some of them seem so boring to me! It is a bit harder now to find new photos to illustrate some of the narratives too but again, none of this is really 'new' to me.. Like been there and done that, long ago and often far away,but  ...  So shout out if  you are feeling 'been there and done' that too and I will try to find some other area to address so as to  keep my blog alive. For now here is two days after Christmas in 1960, my second effort at the third year of high school. 

Dec 27, 1960

Well maybe I do have quite a bit to write today—different from what I intended no doubt, but I wasn’t bored much. I decided to go to Flagstaff after all. I got nine items in the mail. A Christmas card from ‘renn, five new letters and replies from Judy Crouch, a Texas gal and Warren Burdett, a sailor from California. He sent some pictures. He is not a bad looking guy.. At least I had something to keep me busy while the folks visited the friendly loan company. We came down the new Black Canyon Highway which was just recently completed. It is a very pretty scenic drive and quite enjoyable. We stopped along the way and picked up a sizable load of wood. We heard this morning that there is a storm coming and of course we don’t want to be cold. I wrote five letters tonight. If I don’t get some money I’ll never catch up on writing. I keep getting new ones. That’s what gets me—and at least half the letters sound real nice. I’ve gone over the  eighty mark now When will it end? I really don’t know. Well it is fun anyway. If I had time and the money I would answer every single letter I get but I just plain cannot afford that. I’ve spent over $2.00 on postage already. Well if I narrow down to about fifteen permanent pen pals I guess it will be worth it. At least I am getting to choose from a real wide range. I dreamed about the “Rifleman” last night—he was big as real and natural too. I’ve hear dreams are almost always in black and white but sometimes I dream in color too. Not always but sometimes.  Well it is 10:00 PM. I guess I’ve got to call it quits pronto and sack in for the night. There’ll be another busy day tomorrow. Darn—my vacation is more than half over already. What am I going to do? I’ll simply die when I have to go back to school. I’ve got to fix my hair yet and also study my chem. Ooooo, I think I’ll quit! Love ya, G

I didn't mention the weather here but if memory serves it was colder and often more rain and snow 60 years ago than it is today.Winter  break ran from a few days before Christmas through the day after New Year's generally. December 27th was  a Tuesday then.

I was deep into the still-new pen pal routine at this point and it was still exciting to open the mail box and pull out a bunch of new letters. I  never  knew when one would turn out to be "someone special." A few of the guys did-- for awhile-- and a few of the girls have stayed friends for many, many years.  .

I was no longer regularly watching the TV westerns but actually kept a crush of sorts on Chuck Connors for several more years.  Was that dream in color? I have no idea but I do often have parts of dreams  in color even today. They'er like someone photoshopped a mix-up!

The new stretch of I-17 from the Verde River at Camp Verde up to Flagstaff was very scenic. It  still is and has changed very little except in places along the roadside over the many years. I came down it in September in a fierce rainstorm. Ordinarily I enjoy driving it and the grades and curves do not faze me as I learned to drive on mountain roads such as 89A over Mingus. That lat trip it was slick though and mostly poor and  limited visibility plus dodging the semis and motor homes made it an adventure. Of course in 1960 I was not driving and I am sure my Dad was at the wheel of our white Ford pickup.

Chemistry was my nemesis that year. Parts I had no trouble with but the formulas and valances gave me no end of grief. I just never quite got a sound understanding of how all that worked. I am sure Mr Clark did his best to make it clear to me and the other students but some of us were just dense or dunce I expect, me included! He was a good teacher IMO but a bit cantankerous at times!

It had been a welcome respite to go back to school after "the Mule Year" that I took off but I also was bored a lot and fretted about being locked up in a virtual juzgado so many hours a week.It was like a job in many ways, and I had to get used to that a few years later and learn how to fit what I wanted to do around the edges of what I had to do to afford even a reasonable life style.I soon found being grown up was not all it was cracked up to be. Sadly there were no other options!

For spits and giggles, two of me in this era.  I honestly cannot believe I was ever that young!!! I think the first was my drop-out year school pic and the next after I had started back but both undated. I seldom smiled in photos, BTW. Did not like my teeth. 

Monday Memoir Dec 20, 1958

 Back to my Sophomore year. Mostly I did not have a lot to say unless I got off on some tangent! So much of life was really quite routine. I was so far out of step with the usual 'teenage' stuff that it wasn't even funny! Right at this point I did not have a huge crush so that limited things to talk about!

Dec 20, 1958

Got up early. Did the chores. Vacation!! Ya hoo!!  Spent the morning stacking wood, working on corrals etc. Old Charley came by. He said he’d seen Charles Ortmann who said he sure wanted a picture of Tina. I’ll have to see if I can’t get him one. Mom got some groceries and mailed off the Burro story. We sawed quite a bit of wood. Did the chores. Perhaps we’ll ride over to Bryant’s tomorrow and perhaps go to Prescott on Monday. Guess I’ll say adios.

School was mostly b-o-r-i-n-g at this point and so vacations were eagerly anticipated even if mostly there was more work at home than 'fun' stuff. I was used to it by now and so far the cowboy girl routine was not too onerous. Getting to ride, especially on my mare who was now pretty well trained and rarely intimidated me although she was quite tall and very energetic, was always a great thing..

Charley Bryant was a local character and a close friend of our family. He was definitely a 'horse whisperer' and my main mentor in learning first how to ride and do things with a horse or mule and later to break and train them on my own . He did not drive a car so rode most places he went although his wife did drive and they had an old car that they used. He had many great stories of his younger days some of which certainly colored my later fiction.

Charles Ortmann was the man I had originally gotten Tina from as an eight month old filly early in 1956. At the time I got Tina, he was working for Duane Miller out on the DK Ranch to the east of the valley but by now was around Cottonwood working for various people we  knew. He was a peculiar cowboy having once been a concert violinist of some renown. Why he left that profession I never knew. He did not seem to have any injury that might preclude playing a violin  but had obviously changed careers. Well, classical music was not competing well with rock 'n roll! He did come by a time or two and I gave him a photo or even several but he never seemed pleased with them. I am not sure what he expected! And I am not sure if he still owned her mother or not. I do not recall mention of her in those days.

At this point Dad was sort of making a living as a writer, mostly stories of men's' outdoor magazines  like Field and Stream and Sports Afield. I dimly recall a tale that had burros in it but the specifics are long gone. I do not think it sold but I am not sure. By now we knew another sibling was on the way and it soon became essential to have a better source of income! Baby brother Alex was born May 17, 1959.

Photos: This was in summer 1957. Charley Bryant and me; I think we were going to the Sedona Rodeo. Next is Tina and me about the same time;she was in training and using a hackamore bridle instead of an iron bit in her mouth. Next is Charley again, on one of the houses he trained for a local wannabe cowboy. and finally Tina  as a mature mare, probably 8 or 9 and carrying her first colt. She was 16  hands(16 x 4 to get inches or 64" high at the withers). For reference I was 68" at that time or 5'8" . She weighed about 1000# in good shape and had a lovely red-bay coat.

Monday Memoir, Tues Dec 13, 1960

Some days are just b-o-r-i-n-g. A good part of that first semester back in high school was! A few other Dec 13th's I looked a were no better! But still a day in the life  of...with some names that take me back.

Dec 13, 1960 Tuesday

I guess I should have written more yesterday but it was late and I was tired. School was just ordinary today. Nothing much happened. I got one letter from a guy in the navy—A 6’3” hunk of a Texan who wrote a real nice letter. I did the chores early and we went out to the pasture where we did the chores and got a nice bunch of wood. Old Bill Nelson helped us. Dad went to a town council meeting which was something of a fiasco. I wrote a reply to my new beau and did two history reports. Sam Steiger has offered to sell us fifteen registered mares bred to his Appaloosa stud for $4500. My new guy’s nickname is Sonny. Well, if I live through tomorrow I’ll get a vacation on Thursday. I was going to go to Prescott but I will get to go to Flag. I reported on Anya Seton’s “The Winthrop Woman.” which is one of my favorite books. I’ll buy a copy of it someday. Adios, Gaye

This new pen pal was the one I have mentioned before, Alfred Rydell. He was nice looking and basically a nice guy but kinda dull, really. He left the Navy to work for the Quarter Horse legend Art Pollard. When he  only stayed there a couple of months and went back to the Navy, he lost any attraction for me. I was not going to be a Navy wife!! No way!!

Bill Nelson was a local guy, an old fellow who camped up in a corner of the Tavasci Dairy adjacent to our pasture out behind Tuzigoot for a bit. With winter coming on he needed a home.  Turned out he was a good western artist, not quite the Remington and Russell caliber but good. He was homeless and struggling and he hocked several paintings with us to secure a loan Dad made him to get back on his feet. I hated to see them go back but he paid it off faithfully. 

Sam Steiger had a place out near Granite Dells, east  of Prescott . He was a local character and semi-politician. He was a livestock dealer, a rodeo announcer and --well, you kinda had to watch him as he was a real wheeler-dealer! We did not buy those mares but got some from another man a few months later.

A "vacation" ' with a free day off from school was always cool and I liked to go to Prescott or Flagstaff, especially if I had a dollar or two to spend--which did not happen every time by any means. This close to Christmas, I might have though and looked forward to some gift buying. 

Anya Seton was always a favorite author. She did wonderful well researched historical novels and was very instrumental in firing my desire to become a writer myself.  She spent much time in New Mexico growing up around Taos--quite an artist colony in  those days--as the daughter of  Ernest  Thompson Seton, the eccentric naturalist, writer, and semi-founder of the Boy Scouts in the US. That was motivated by his friend William Baden Powell who started Scouting in England. Since my Dad did some of that as well--no scouts though--I felt a kinship to her. I think I read every one of her books and got a few in e-book form a couple of years ago to re-read.

No Pix. I don't have any very relevant and posted one of Al Rydell before.

Memoir Monday, Dec 6,1959

By this time, I had dropped out of high school for a year. In between many cowboy girl tasks there was a lot of other work. We used a wood stove to heat the house in cold weather--and it was colder then--and got a lot of fire wood plus fence posts and corral rails on Dad's mining claims up on Mingus. 

Dec 6, 1959 Sun

No vacation today, We spent the morning getting ready to go up to Mingus to get wood. I wanted Mom to go and let me stay but no deal. Well, at least RE didn’t come by while I was gone (not that I expected him to.) We left about eleven and spent a long and weary day getting both the trailer and the truck full of wood. I positively exhausted myself. We got a tremendous load and  got safely home with it. I am grateful for that.

It is funny how life files you down and how it will hurt you worse if you fight it. If you find your own little groove or slot that fits you, you slid along rather painlessly. I am inclined to fight tooth and toenail. Somehow I sort of feel I was “meant for better things” but I guess that is pure fallacy.

I just hope I’ll get another chance with RE, He does not exactly fit all my fancy plans but he does fit a lot of my specifications. There isn’t a day pass that I don’t think of him. I want him to be my friend and more than that. I can just hope for another chance. Au revoir, G

Work--that was the "subject" I studied for the short year away from normal school from about 1 Nov 1959 until 1 Sept  1960, that and guys LOL  We cut a lot of firewood and often got it in either the big  F700 Ford flatbed truck that was our hay and livestock hauler or in the pickup with either the open rack farm trailer or the horse trailer dragged behind. Dad wielded the chainsaw and Charlie Mike and I usually did the drag and pack mule work to get it to the vehicle(s) and loaded. Mom usually got to stay home and take care of Alex, then just May-Dec old. I didn't mind being the baby sitter but did not do that often. The Allen Spring Road which was the shortest route up there had frequent washouts after the Mingus fire in 1956 so getting around some sharp inside curves could be a bit iffy at times. A safe trip was thus a relief!

RE was  my current heart-throb--more or less. He worked for the project of putting in the gas lines for El Paso or was it Southwest Gas? Anyway natural gas came to the Verde that summer and fall and he drove a tractor for the digging and filling of the ditches. I had several nicknames for him as I did for most of  my fancies but his name was Richard Edwards and for awhile we did not quite date-I was not allowed--but kind of got a thing going.Oddly the folks never raised much Cain about my talking to him and even him coming by a time or two to 'visit' with me in the early evening--between chores and supper. However no happy ending to this tale--happened just a few days after this point. For a long time that seemed to be the story of my life...looking for love in all the wrong places as the old country song went. My darn "romance addiction" was slated to do me in!

Not many pix--a sketch I did of RE and the yard-swallowing woodpiles in one of Alex taken that winter. Most of the wood was supposed to be for fixing up "the ranch" down south of Bridgeport but eventually ended up in the wood stove to heat the house. Charlie Mike and I hand sawed and split a lot of it, carried it in, took out the ashes...  Yeah, we studied work. And the last, a couple of years earlier as it shows the Jeep pickup and not the Ford but on the same road and an example of the washouts. Somebody had lost a muffler--not us. Drag an 18' trailer behind a truck over that? Whoa! Too much fun. This was in the middle of a tight u-turn, too.

Memoir Monday: 29 Nov, 1958

 

Somehow 1958 seems so long ago. Was I ever that young and kind of giddy when I wasn't depressed and frustrated? LOL! 

 

Nov 29, 1958 -- Saturday?Got up early. Did the chores, Helped Charlie Mike with his toys nearly all morning. In the afternoon mailed the story. Went down to Janni’s to see if she could ride with me. After many interruptions we finally got away. We had a real nice time. Caught up on talking for the first time in ages. Guess who I saw today—“Moose”. He nearly crowded me off he road. Came home and did the chores. The Bryants came by and talked a bit. Tomorrow we’re going with Charley when he rides “Carry.” Something’s gonna give I am afeared. I figured a way to put up some of my pics in plastic. It works swell. Vickie Stratton said “You feel like running up and kissing him,” about Elvis. That’s how I feel about Kelo’s picture. Such a smile—you want to smile too. You feel as if you were sharing a secret. Well, I’ve got to say Adios, Gaye

Not sure what was going on with Charlie Mike's toys--well he was only just  seven at this time, so definitely still in a toy age. Lots of Tonka trucks and play tools and odds and ends like we'd both played with often--'making'  and making up things! The story would have been one of Dad's efforts; he did sell quite a few to outdoor adventure mags for several years; sending one off was a big event and might result in some income.

Janni was Janice Benatz, younger than me by about three years but we were good friends and she loved  the horses and mules. Mot of my girlfriends were younger and of course the guys in my life were mostly older...

Charley Bryant was the local horse whisperer and a family friend. He was a main mentor (mane mentor?) of mine as I worked into my cowboy girl days. He did not drive at all so his wife, Elvie, took him places in their old car when he was not wanting to ride there. He rode mostly though and always had a horse or mule. Carry was a mule he was training for Leo Greenough, another influential friend in the circle I lurked at the edge of, mostly my parents' friends who fascinated me.  This little pitcher had big ears and listened a lot; so much of what I heard popped up later in my fiction.

Vickie Stratton was another lower town younger semi-friend. Of course Elvis was such a big thing about then but  I was totally western/cowboy fan-girl  and right then Kelo Henderson who was in the TV show 26 Men was a huge fave of mine. My bedroom corner study/work place was usually decorated with either photos or later some of my own drawings of various "Handsome Heroes" I was crushing on.

Oh yes, "Moose". That was Marvin Kallsen, then a senior at Mingus--pre Mingus Union Mingus--and was more or less my first crush when we both went to school down at Willard in Bridgeport. I was over that but still kind of attentive to him. Those were the days, eh?

About the photos:  

The first is Charley Bryant with a mule. I do not think this was Carry but probably either Blackie or another mule he got from us in 1959-60.  The next is Kelo; I have a  close-up in a scrap book still but guess I have not scanned it into my files! That show was about the Arizona Rangers who were a  real group in the late 1800s and the episodes were filmed in the Phoenix area.  And last, Marvin when he graduated from 8th grade at Willard in 1955 (?) I think that was the year!! I thought he was cuter as a kid than nearing grown up in 1958! Sadly he is one missing from the MUHS Class of  1959 as he died about 2004. His wife was in the class of 1961,  Connie Nesbitt.

Memoir Monday Nov 22, 1963 The day Kennedy was shot

 For many of my generation, "the day Kennedy was shot" was like our Pearl Harbor day--a huge jolting turning point that we never forgot. For the younger folks, compare it to 9/11. So seeing it was 58 years ago, I had to go back and see how that day went  for me.  

Nov 22, 1963 Fri

I woke about the usual hour and got up to go feed. Last night I dreamed of Dr Joe Hudson—why, I don’t know. We all went out to do the pasture chores and Dad cut two cottonwood trees. I rode Tina down to them. She feels so big. We got the mail and then Mom and Dad helped lead up the animals. It was then we heard the news. President Kennedy was shot and killed by an assassin in Dallas, TX about 12:30. It is, of course, a terrible and unbelievable thing. Poor Jackie was sitting at his side when the shot was fired. We of course had to listen to the news reports most of the afternoon. I did ride Prez for a little and led Chief. Then we drove out and did the evening pasture chores. While we were eating, Evelyn came down. We visited for awhile, talked of many things. She worked on my hair etc. This has been a long and terrible day that will be long remembered in history.

By this time I was a full time cowboy girl and the livestock work was my main occupation. I know I have mentioned all these animals before. My mare Tina was now about 2/3 through her first pregnancy so I was not working her much but did ride her bareback some. The mules would eat the green shoots and bark off a cottonwood tree and that gave them something to gnaw on and not chew corral rails, wooden feed troughs etc. Dr Joe was the head doctor at the Whipple VA Hospital where Dad had been a patient off and on. He was a family friend of sorts and a cool guy. Evelyn was of course my friend Evelyn Graves Morales.She was still in high school.

We'd been out to the pasture that morning and were back at home about ready to go in for lunch and turned on the radio. It was certainly appalling news and we  were caught up in it for the rest of that day and a few more. We did not have TV but saw things in magazines and certainly heard much on the radio. Ancient history now but still many clear memories. And it is still really a cold case crime. Did Oswald really do it? And why did Ruby then kill him? That the whole world witnessed, so no doubt there, but mysteries have always piled deep.

An odd bit of background: My late husband was a military police detective in the Marine Corps and stationed at Atsugi, Japan in the later mid-fifties. Strangely, Oswald was a Marine at that time and was also there. He got into trouble, I think with blackmarket stuff like sale of cigarettes etc from the commissary to the Japanese. Jim and his partner worked the case and busted him. Jim said Oswald was qualified with a rifle since all Marines had to be then but was far from a marksman of sniper caliber. He was also not the sharpest tool in the shed and took the fall for what others had conned him into doing. So Jim never believed Oswald had actually done the shooting. I honestly cannot even guess but suspect we will never know the real, whole story. 

A marginally relevant photo or two--Jim Walton--one as he would have looked there in 1957 as an E-4 or E-5 MP Sergeant (can't quite make out the stripe) and one when he was home from Boot Camp in late 1948. Ernest Gabrielson who also went to Bisbee High and graduated in 1948 ,was also in the Marines but they were never stationed together. Ernie got out after one enlistment or right after the Korean conflict and went to college and became an English teacher. Old history to us MUHS alums!

Memoir Monday,, Nov 15, 1960

Back at school after the "Mule Year." I was pulling out of my miniature 'teen rebellion' and  rumspringa  period thru midyear and into the fall. I still missed being outdoors and 'free' but for the most part school was tolerable and a kind of vacation!

Nov 15, 1960 Tuesday

I hated to spend a pretty day like this in school. It was cold but pretty, really pretty. I didn’t miss much yesterday. School was pretty dull today. I was a few minutes late getting home so I threw leather on Trix and took off. I mailed a bunch of letters, my snap order included and did the chores out at the pasture. Mom and CM had done everything here which was a relief. I just saw Gug’s truck once today. Gosh I want to see him so bad. I wish I knew what he really thinks about  me but I’d probably die if I did know. He’s a mean hombre. I wish I had seen my new hero today. I want to meet him. It’s positively a case of love a first sight. I’m going to write to several of the folks who had letters in the “Our Air Mail” column and I am sending them a letter too. I love to write letters and I want to make some more friends that way. I dreamed something about a guy with a real neat car the other night. I hope that is prophetic.  That's what I need to make me get over Gug. And that is one thing I’ve got to do. It’s late and I’m tired so I guess I’ll close for today. Maybe something real thrilling will happen soon. Adios, Filly

Was it really colder then? Climate change or not, it seems to me that the weather has gotten milder though perhaps a few more extremes. Mingus Union sat on a ridge tip out over the valley and it was almost always windy up there which made cold feel much worse--that old wind chill factor. I'd been out in all weather for a year should have been used to it, though.

You have met Trix(ie) before, a favorite little mule who looked like a stuffed toy in the winter--just as fluffy and fuzzy as she could be and coal black with a white nose and a dainty Arabian equine face--bet her mother was an Arab. And yes, it was a real boon when Charlie Mike and/or Mom had done the home chores for me. Did not always happen and for sure it was almost never Dad who did it.

Who was the new hero I spoke of? Haven't a clue but I suspect it was a CTI driver that I had not seen before who caught my eye and piqued my fancy. And this was the beginning of my long-term pen pal  project. In the end I probably got 250 letters from my entries in a couple of magazines and answered half or more at least once. That sifted out to maybe 4-5 long term gal pals and a ha;f dozen guys that ebbed and flowed as favorites over the course of some 4-5 years. Postage money--at 3-5 cents per letter  most of the time-- was not easy to come by but Charlie Mike and I did nab or scrounge hundreds of pop bottles which we could turn in for a few cents.

Not much photo stuff here: My "office" corner in my room which by this time did have a table Dad had built for me, a smaller edition of the big dining table we began to use about 1955. I used the boxes on top then as shelves, I still have both tables. Charlie and I use the big one for our dining table and my smaller one is currently in the garage and part of my jewelry shop set up. One thing Dad did well was build stuff. Charlie Mike inherited that skill and many of our large shelf units are his work. I am a rougher 'carpenter' but can whip up a feed box or other outdoor fixture when needed. And oddly, school buses have not changed much! Here is a recent 'Blue Bird" in our area! It looks very much like the one I rode up the hill!  I rode it the most and it was mostly driven by Mr. Pirtle. I just remembered that. Actually the CTI (Cement Transporters Inc) trucks have not changed a lot either; they are based in Marana, north west of Tucson along I-10 as they were then..

Memoir Monday, Nov 8. 1961

 The fall of my senior year.  I was half past eighteen now and for the most part pretty serious and practical. I still had my pen pals but otherwise social life was a flat zip. School was a respite of sorts most of the time and with Maureen Jewell for my school BFF at that time, it was mostly pleasant enough. No difficult classes and most of the guys I had been bullied by were gone.

Nov 8, 1961 Wed

I woke up early with the curse, worse luck. I took my pills though and went primly off to school trying not to show my misery. The day passed rather rapidly, thank God. ‘Reen and I ate in the gym and watched a wrestling match at noon. I even got a seat only four back in the bus; luck was with me. No mail. Charlie Mike and I did the chores here and then we drove out to the pasture. The witch tree is gone—not a trace of it left. ‘Reen of course was very sympathetic when she heard of my troubles. Tomorrow I mustn’t forget that I have a mare for sale. I played cards with Charlie Mike. He taught me how to play casino and then I wrote a letter to Shirley C. And so ends another day. I’m not in much misery actually now. Its raining and I should … I guess I’ll get another vacation on Friday to go hunting. Shall I be glad or sad?  I wrote a rather screwy letter to Wayne. I think I should try to get rid of him but I really don’t want to. How about HJ  (Jose Cazador) He promised me a long letter. Maybe I’ll remind him. The other day I concluded that I wanted to remain a "little girl" for a bit longer. Hasta!

I suffered from severe monthly cramps from my early teens on. I later found out I had very bad  endometriosis and a few other problems but at this stage I just knew I'd be miserable for about 24 hours every 26-28 days or so. I never wanted not to be female but it was a burden, especially when I needed to be active and busy every day regardless.  I hated to ride near the back of the school bus--the only time I would get semi-carsick as the big old vehicle wig-wagged  down the curvy road from Jerome to Clarkdale. Going up was not as bad.

The "witch tree" was a smaller mesquite that sat near the middle of one of the big pens at the pasture. We often had a jack burro chained to it. They had to be kept apart so as not to fight and also away from the mares or jennys in season. After  a second animal died there in tragic accidents, Dad took a chain saw to it and cut it off at the ground.  I had found one jack dead there the evening before; he got tangled in the chain and apparently had a hassle with a mustang gelding we had. Chili was one we all liked and kind of a favorite, and a  mule colt he had sired died there the past June. It was a cursed tree. 

I was rather cynical much of the time, and at least somber; not despondent but not often super happy. I'm not sure what triggered the "little girl" notion but I did have a slight Peter Pan complex off and on. Was "growing up" all it was cracked up to be?  Likely not... "It's raining and I should? " Not sure what thought I never finished there!  Maybe interrupted...

I really do not have good photos of Chili the burro or Sugarfoot the mule colt and I've featured Wayne and Jose in photos before. But did find one--this is Chili--he was a paint--and I was holding Tina. Lady II in the trailer was the one who had the mule colt he sired. She had lost colts before; just a bad luck mare. Not long afterwards, I sold her to Maureen who had her until she died, probably at about age 18-20.  

Memoir Monday, Nov 1, 1960

I'd been back in school for a couple of months after my year off.  It was a big change since Mingus Union came to be that year with a whole bunch of new teachers, a necessary bus ride daily up the hill to Jerome and even more new students since the Sedona area outside of Coconino County was now part of our district. My former classmates were now ahead of me by a year but that did not matter greatly to me. I was not uncomfortable with  the next lower group.

Nov 1, 1960 Tuesday

I guess today was a pretty good day. At least nothing bad happened. Neither Evelyn nor Arlene went to school today but I wasn’t lonesome. Classes were ok. Guess who Owen Childers was flirting with—Vickie Cranmer! Ye gods. Guess I will stick to John (Ferebee) and Robert (Boyce). I even lived through PE. We had a mock election in school. I voted nearly a straight democratic ticket with the exception of Sam Steiger and “Alvie Self” who I wrote in for Sheriff because I didn’t want to vote for Cramer.  Weird, no? That Ferebo is really crazy. He is fun though when he comes down off his high horse. Robert sat with Judy (Davis) and me on the bus like he always does. I like him even if he is a sort of wild character. He must be at  least 19 or 20 since he has quit school twice . He for sure looks older than Bill C and Howard S. He never does a very thorough job of shaving  and wears sideburns. I got my boots earlier than I expected. They are real nice looking—black with turquoise stitching, They are very comfortable and the 12” tops are tall enough to look like real boots without overpowering me. Rode Tiz this evening. She  behaved very nicely. Didn’t see any of my “friends”. Since this is “All Saints Day” I guess they weren’t allowed out of their cages as Mr McLarney would say. Tomorrow I get a vacation from school because I am a witness for the prosecution in the trial of Bill Mack vs the State of Arizona. Maybe I can work in some shopping and who knows what else? Wish Gug would write me an insulting letter so I could tear it up right in front of him. I never said a thing about writing, only talking, waving and looking. Adios, Filly

John Ferebee was one of the Sedona area students He was in charge of the yearbook that year and I was on the staff in Publications Class.As I noted in my journal, he could be fun at times but at others was kind of stuffy or serious or superior acting! In fact I did most of the lettering in a kind of cuneiform style and was pretty proud of my work. I lost my copy and asked on Classmates and was given one--it is all signed over to someone else but at  least I got my own for my senior year.

I am sure Robert Boyce was older but that was okay. I was a year older when I graduated too. I did not think he lived in Clarkdale so I am no sure why he often rode that bus. Judy David and I were definitely Clarkdale kids. I never had a crush in him or considered him boyfriend material but did like him as a regular friend.

it is kind of funny how my high school stuff and my cowboy girl life tended to be all tangled back and forth.  I faintly recall those boots. I wore them for some time, mostly riding since they were regular cowboy boots. As for Tiz, yet another mule that we had. We had Lizzie and Frizzie and Tizzie--all  taller leggy female mules  who were a bit alike in temperament. They were generally pretty easy to handle and not too kicky, spooky or difficult. Liz--there were a couple of them, dark buckskin or brownish with a bit of yellow tint to their coat. Then Friz was solid dark bay-brown and Tiz was lighter, a shade darker than tan but not true brown. 

The "friends" I mention were my nemesis "Gug" and some of his compadres at the propane company etc. They had pretty much fallen off my "handsome hero" list for various reasons and I had finally broken away from Gug, the one I just missed getting into some major trouble with.

I  honestly do not recall that legal matter at all. I guess I did go to Prescott since it was apparently in Superior Court but have no idea if I testified or not! I do not even recall for sure who that guy was. Maybe there was a plea agreement and no trial was even held. It does not seem to be very significant anyway!

Get a chuckle out of the mock election.  Sam Steiger was a horse dealer and quite a character who had a place just outside of Prescott. He and my Dad were kind of friends. What he was running for I have no clue! And Alvie Self for sheriff? That is a hoot! Well,why not; a rockabilly musician could hold that office I guess!

A few pictures--excuse the sideways  views. I'm still messing with photo editing issues for scanned   pix. Self explanatory!

Memoir Monday, Oct 25, 1961/57

Just for spits and giggles, here are two versions of  October 25,  five years apart.  In 1957  I was thirteen and in 1961 I was eighteen.  I am not sure if the tone and  ambiance of what I recorded had changed much or not. Was the senior more mature than the freshman?   What do you think, "gentle reader"?  ( to borrow a  silly Victorian affectation here.) Feel free to comment!

Oct 25, 1957

Got up medium early, Usual horse chores. Ate, dressed and off to school. In study hall wrote a story. Helped Bill, Dave and Andy with Algebra and worked on Indian head bands. Usual English. Recess.To the PO as usual. Had a ball in Algebra. Tyce sat on the desk behind me for a bit. I played with Dave, Bill, Andy and Howard. Home for lunch. It’s hunting season weather and I’m on the clouds but the inevitable happened. The bottom fell out. I joined Effie and others on the east steps. Tyce came out of the cafeteria and up the steps. I was blocking the door. “You’re not getting by until you ask me polite.” “I ain’t askin’ nothing polite.” He said and began to jerk at the door. I wouldn’t budge an inch. He grabbed my left shoulder and jerked me away from the door. I saw sparks and raised my hand to hit him. He dodged. I kicked. My second shot hit dead center. ((I think it was knee and not   elsewhere!)) Tyce released me and strode in. The bell rang. Typing was okay. I wrote Tyce a note saying I was sorry and put it on his desk in Espanol. He picked it up and read it slowly. Then he put it in his pocket. Usual History. Had the assembly and skit. It turned out real good. Tyce was a good but skinny Indian. Came home. Usual chores. Dentist trip. Ate, read and to bed. Adios, Peg.

Oct 25, 1961 Wed

Today was just an ordinary day more or less. The weather was really nice. I was off almost early for once. In study hall I worked on my spelling words. The test was pretty rough but I got a 1 on my report card. Doubek gave me no reasonable explanation. I will just quit at the end of the semester. I am plumb riled. In Civics I got a 1. Ditto in Art and Journalism. I’m real proud. ‘Reen and I were bored at noon. We both agree that lunch hour is too long. We should only have thirty minutes and get out earlier. I can’t see why Doubek had to be so hard, All my other teachers appreciate my abilities. Well to heck with the puke faced slob! I came home—no mail—rode Queen out and did the usual evening chores. Little Jay-Jay is so lovable. She ‘kissed’ me bye. I hope ‘Reen rides over tomorrow. I also hope we go shopping or something. I want to go somewhere—(anywhere but deer hunting!)  Maybe my friend Dr Joe will come over again Sunday. I hope so. This evening I rearranged my room.  Now if/when I get a radio I can play it It can go right by my bed. So far I have a 1.7 average for the three years of high school. I’m quite proud of my four ones. I think that is pretty good.

I  think my freshman classmates are now mostly known to my regular readers but just in case--of course Tyce  (Miller) was my --hmm-- Crush? Boyfriend? Heartthrob? Even frenemy at times. The others were Bill Christenson, Andy Peterson,  Dave (Brilhart or Norton--not sure which  but likely Brilhart) and Howard Schwab. I know Bill and Howard have passed away and Dave too if it was Brilhart and Andy is not well. That's the sad part of getting older. 

By my senior year I had moved far past boys; if I was interested in anyone, he would have been over 21 and only written about on occasions. I did not date and was probably rather unsocial if not unsociable. Dr Joe Hudson was certainly not a  'love interest.' He was a senor surgeon at the Veteran's Hospital over at Fort Whipple  near Prescott  where he had provided care for my Dad's various ailments. He  came over and went riding with us off and on.  He was quite a dashing character, single at the time though in his 50s--too old even for me!--and dove a pink Cadillac  convertible, a year or two old. He was kind of an honorary uncle; I suppose  that is about the best analogy to his place in  my world. Doubek was the music teacher and he really did not like me, for what reason I do not have a clue! I didn't quit and he finally relented the last grading period of the year after I had been named Valedictorian and gave me a "1."  And I seem to recall there was a holiday or two for the opening of deer season.

 Photos of Jay-jay (a baby burro) and Queen, a sorrel mare, just for 'tax' as  they say on Facebook.Text with no pix is b-o-r-i-n-g?!   This mare in the foreground is either  Queenie or Peppy--they looked a lot alike.  And Jennyfur, the mommy,  with Jenny Junior or Jay-jay. Baby burros are so darn cute!

Memoir Monday, Oct 18, 1961

Finally my senior year! In most ways it was the happiest time I had in school except maybe sixth grade down a Willard in Bridgeport.  I really did not mind going to school very much. 

Oct 18, 1961 Wed

Today was a good day, I guess. I got up, dressed etc. I was a little earlier than sometimes. The bus seemed to be slow. Once in school the morning passed quickly. I worked in study hall, extraordinary for me. English and Civics were about ordinary. At noon ‘Reen and I talked about everything from horses to whores. We really do talk about everything. We don’t try to change each other’s opinions. That’s why we get along so well. The afternoon really hurried by. In Journalism I’m always busy. That’s just the way it is. Then homeward bound. Guess what, my pictures came. I am so pleased with them. For once I looked like my ‘lovely self’. I shall get vain! I rode Ruby out. She didn’t want to cross the Verde River bridge but my ‘friend billy’ made up her mind in the other direction. The chores aren’t too difficult anymore. I’ve sent off for my small photos all ready. I’m in a hurry to get them so I can give them to people. I’m so proud of them!  Wrote Dee. I’m rather tired of him but… Dad gave me 64 cents and I had only asked for a dime—see what being sweet does for you? Well, I’ll go to bed feeling happy. I need to do that now and then. 

Of course there were still chores.  Mom did the morning feeding for me sometimes, a bit more in the spring as I was heading down the final stretch and hoping to graduate with honors etc. That gave me  a little more time to dress and get ready since I did not have to jump into dirty work clothes, do the chores, and then rush to change and be ready to go catch the bus. Anyway this day I am not sure but sounds that way. 

It was a novelty to study in study hall--I often read a book, wrote letters or just fiddled around. I really did not have any 'hard' classes this year. Math and Science were always the most challenging for me but I had completed all the required ones.  I was on the way to becoming the editor for The Mingus Spirit. For now, Jean was editor--last name? draw a blank--anyway she quit and I took over before the 2nd semester I think.  At this point I was writing several articles for each issue and typing part of the stencils.

Maureen Jewell had come to Mingus the prior spring and we got to be good friends since she was into horses and cowboy stuff too. If we were both there, we almost always ate lunch together, both brown bagging. When I was at the recent reunion, I  meant to get a photo of the window ledge where we sat in decent weather but I missed that  It was on the ground floor, north west corner anyway. 

And my ordered senior pictures came. I was so used to having ghastly, ugly, awful pictures that I totally hated, so it was nearly a miracle to get some I liked enough to want to share. I could only afford about three or four 5x7 prints of my favorite pose but I sent one off to a place that would do wallet size copies--I  think they said they would not do copyrighted which most school photos were, but they did do mine! Of course the copies were to go mostly to my favorite pen pals. 

I know  I mentioned little Ruby before-she was a very petite, dainty little mule and the prettiest deep red color with a white star on her forehead.  She was good but had a few pet spooks, one of which was the bridge there at Clarkdale over the river.  I carried either a quirt or a little persuader called a "billy" which was a short length of hard wood with a leather thong wrist strap. A bump between the ears with it was very helpful in convincing a reluctant mule they did want to do something after all. Right then we did not have too many animals at the pasture out behind Tuzigoot so that set of chores was not very lengthy or hard.  

Dee was another pen pal, a kind of farm boy/cowboy who was living in Kansas at that time. He did actually come for a brief visit, maybe the next year, but he never got to be a  real favorite.  I do not even have a photo, I don't think, although he sent me one on a horse. He was a rather big stout looking guy, wide shoulders etc. 

No new pix but anyway: Here is Ruby and me looking a bit surly holding her, that old bridge--which is now kind of falling to ruin and the ends blocked by trees and junk-- and yours truly (looking sooooo young and innocent.) Well, I guess at that time I really was. I was eighteen that fall or eighteen and half,  since my birthday was in April. From  the viewpoint of 78 that is very young!!

Memoir Monday, Oct 11, 1957

Back to that crazy freshman year at Clarkdale the last year before it became Mingus, the 1957-58 school year.   

Oct 11, 1957

Got up early. Did the horse chores. Ate breakfast and visited with Mom a while. Dressed and up to Kit’s (Evelyn’s) to pick her up. We were quite early. We talked until the bell rang. Up to study hall,  Howard, Bobbi and Tyce were discussing me. In reference to my sobriquet “Mosquito,” Tyce said, “Maybe she ain’t big but she sure has a heck of a bite.” I nearly laughed out loud. They had not seen me. English class I turned in my report on “Jumper” and read Tyce’s. His is good but not as complete as mine. The senior gals brought the school paper around. I bought a copy. My first published work, mentioning TWM too. Recess. Visited Carolyn (Nobles), Tracy (Ensign) and Linda (Crose). Algebra. Did some board work. Home for lunch and up again. Teased and talked with Howard Schwab and some of the girls.  Usual typing. In Spanish had a time. Mrs Horsepower asked us questions. I got all the easy ones and Tyce got all the hard ones. He made La Professora mad! Down to History. Bobbi left on the early bus. As there were only four, Mr Cantrell let us out. Tony and Delores went home. Tyce and El Professor to the gym and I came home and saddled up Louie. About the first canyon after the Indian Hills gate, a yellow truck came up,. A loud whistle startled me as the truck drew along side and passed. I looked up into the laughing eyes of Tyce. He grinned and waved at me as he leaned on the ledge. He looked out the back window as they (he and the foreman) drove on. Louie and I had a nice ride and I rode Tina too. Usual chores. Ate. Did some writing and hit the hay. What is on the book for tomorrow? Quien sabe.  Adios, Peggy. PS 11 is now a lucky day.

For a short while my friend Evelyn decided she wanted to be "Kitten", thus the 'Kit'. I can laugh now recalling how many silly aliases I aspired to over the years. Such as here going by Peggy instead of Maggie since I had become Margaret for awhile. I have no idea if girls still do that. Maybe not; young people are more inclined to want to change their pronouns if I can trust the news.  Sometimes that means names too, I suppose. Shrug!!

As I have said before, the first class of the day happened to be study hall. I must have wandered in a few minutes late and overheard this conversation. I often felt I was an odd gal out, not quite fitting in to the rest of  the group and maybe often really not liked. I have no idea how much of that was actual or just my perception. In later years I am inclined to say it was mostly me, how I felt--I was prickly and shy and knew my life and family aside from the school scene were very different. I had friends, maybe more and better than I recognized in those days.  For example, Carolyn(Nobles), Linda (Crose) and Tracy (Ensign) were all 8th graders at this point and later were part of my graduating class, except Tracy had moved away.And I did and do think of them as friends. 

Charlie Mike was now home from the hospital after his broken leg but still in the half body cast and of course not going to school.  For the most part, life went on pretty much as usual. Mom spent some time most days home schooling him so he would not fall too far behind. First grade is a rather critical point in schooling. Otherwise she had resumed the household tasks and I was back mostly doing horse and mule work. I'd have to check back to see what we had right then. I know Tina and Louie--not sure of others. 

I was not fond of Ms Taylor, the typing teacher who also was in charge of the mimeographed (maybe a 'ditto' machine with the purple gunk?) school paper, but she knew, perhaps from Miss Rayle, that I liked to write so she had made me more or less the freshman class reporter. It was part gossip column and some relating various events. I'm not sure what this article was, my first effort in that line. I think the paper cost five cents. I usually could not have found much more to spend!

Our family privately called the small hills west of the Cottonwood highway "The Indian Hills" because Vince and Vernon Randall's mom lived up there. Other than her small house, they were bare and we often rode up there. I think they may have been Yavapai tribal land.  

 For "pix" tax--One photo of me on Louie out on the open area west of the assorted houses where the Nobles family and several others lived. An earlier friend named Michele Boyle was there for a bit and I think perhaps Kathy Feld and her mom lived there also. At this time I think Louie was teaching me more than I was training him! He was one wily old mule and well trained when we got him. Then Tina up the the canyon, near the time and place when she broke Charlie Mike's leg. 

Memoir Monday, 4 Oct 1963

 I will get back to school days in time but my first full year of cowboy girl life was full of a lot of things also. In a way I see that as a detour and even an error on my part but I am also glad I did take those four years away from the rest of my life and must admit I did a lot of growing in some aspects and certainly learned things  few of my contemporaries ever experienced. The Old West was gone but this was the trailing fringe of it and certainly marked my character and of course my later fiction writing.

Oct 4, 1963 Fri

It gets harder every day to get up but I always manage to do it somehow. I fed and cleaned pens. After breakfast I brought up Leo and Jolly. Prez and I had a fairly short haul. No grain and the critters were okay. I went up for mail. At last I heard from Judy and that was a small bright spot. I  led Chief around and picked up two pop bottles. That’s eight cents much needed. After lunch I wrote a letter and finished outlining my “Pony and the Dark Horse” story. I really believe it has possibilities. I went up to the library at 3:40. Finally I broke down and told the librarian my purpose in checking out these teenage horse books. Back home CM and I went to work. Buzzie had colic. We drove out to do the chores while Dad and Doc S worked on her. We had to eat in shifts and walk her etc. Finally at 9:00 she began to improve. We were ready to put her up by 12:00 or a little before so a long day came to an end. Man, I am really shot. I feel like I haven’t slept in years. I’m glad Buzz is recovering but it sure costs to keep these ponies going. Better luck tomorrow.

I'd been doing "chores" for a good eight years or more by now but they had expanded over time to be a full time job, a very full time job. Although Charlie Mike and of course Dad did a lot of work also,  their efforts were more sporadic and the ultimate responsibility was always squarely on my shoulders. Ostensibly it was Dad's business but he pursued other projects and his worsening bipolar problem would often sideline him for hours or even days in a stretch. The work did not stop at those times. 

That spring we had gotten several young registered Quarter Horses to 'improve our herd' and  they did not take well to the rougher feed and accommodations the old cow-ponies and mules handled easily.  We got well acquainted with the local veterinarian. (Doctor Schauffler). Buzzie was especially subject to colic. 

Judy (Crouch, at that time, nee Quigley) was one of my first pen pals so by now we were well acquainted. She was a very good artist and we were trying to collaborate on some  writing projects with an eye on publishing eventually.  I had begun one girl-and-horse story which became Cindy and the Challenges (never published but I still may someday). Pony and the Dark Horse was another idea I had been considering. I checked out nearly every similar book in the Clarkdale Library to immerse myself in the facts and flavor of the genre. 

I was never actually paid for my work or even had an 'allowance' while in school. Some of the animals were supposedly mine but that was always a bit doubtful! It seems harsh and was but then the family was constantly on the edge of poverty and there was seldom much to spare. Turning in found pop bottles was one way Charlie Mike and I got spending money.  Most people threw them out or hoarded in a shed or back yard  but never recycled. We took advantage of both!

So here are some early shots of the colts I mention.  In order: Jolly--grey filly with big white blaze and 3 white feet--Leo bloodline; Buzzie-bright sorrel with blaze and white foot--Buzzie Bell bloodline; Leo Mix-gray stud colt with star--Leo bloodline. (Yavapai) Chief was the registered Appaloosa stallion we had gotten the year before. Last shot is me on him. For a stallion he was very well behaved and handled as easily as most geldings. I had no problems riding him, even leading other animals so long as not a mare in season. 

Memoir Monday, Sept 27, 1962

 Sept 27, 1962 Thurs

Saludos, yo. I rolled out when the sun was barely up and it made my hair gold as I went down to feed. I rode Annie out and did the chores. All was okay except Taffy had cut her right forefoot. We doctored Stony’s ear and I took Prez for a lead along the highway where I picked up three pop bottles. I wasted another day. All I did was make a few paper doll things and sleep. I seem to have to sleep every afternoon. Tomorrow I must fix these Capri pants. The zipper is busting out. I rode Annie out again as it was finally beginning to clear. I do hope it is nice over the weekend so we can ride. I rearranged some of my furniture this morning for winter. After the chores and supper were done, I worked on my poems. I’ve written several new ones recently. I’ll have to make copies of them to send to Jose. I wish he’d hurry up and write but I guess he’s busy. Old LS is still up to his tricks of staring. He’s a damn smart alec. Well it’s almost 10:00 pm. Not much else to add about today. I sure wish we’d get the money deals squared away so that we could have enough to eat first and secondly be able start on our various plans and such. Oh why must things take so long??

At this time I was out of school having graduated in May. Already those days were fading into the background. In a way it was sad because the last semester of my high school days was a high point of my life for some time. I had accomplished what I set out to do and done it well, if I do say so myself. I had picked up after being out for a year and did as well or better than I had before and ended up graduating with honors. Somehow the confidence and enthusiasm that gave me faded away far too soon and I sank back into the cowboy girl rut and again thought that was really all I could do, feeling my talents and hobbies were of no value--since I often got chided harshly for 'wasting time' on them. My academic record seemed to have no value either and college was an unattainable vague dream for which I was afraid to reach.  I also worried what would happen to the animals I had invested so much time and effort in if I left.  I wish someone had kicked my butt!! But that did not happen for four years and when it finally did, I did some of the kicking myself, that and life. And several 'angels' helped me.

All the critters I mention here were mules in various stages of training and Taffy was a newer one, very light, almost palomino. I am pretty sure I have no photo of her. Prez (Presidente)  and Annie had been with us awhile and were both good reliable animals and I rode both of them often, Stony was another trained one and was due to be sold not too long after this. 

My social life was absolutely nil. I still wrote pen pals some but now in lieu of school work I continued my hobbies of writing, sewing and designing clothes, which is what the "paper doll" thing was about. It was easier to visualize how a garment or outfit would look if I drew it out, colored it and then could actually hold it up on a doll to get the effect. I did this with most of the things I made for myself or others and experimented with ideas for various fancy western outfits, very ornate and almost garish at that time. Since it was edging into the hippie grannie and pioneer style period, I also modernized historical and frontier dresses and gowns for possible contemporary applications. I sometimes wish I had tried a career in this. 

The Capri pants I had made from stripped pillow ticking--vertical slimming stripes!!--and they fit rather tight.  The zipper finally began to tear or pull out. I think they zipped in back. As for LS, I think I mentioned him before a few weeks earlier. He was a weird dude who lived down the street for awhile and kind of stalked or harassed me. I called him "Larry Scary." Finally I complained to my Dad who observed some of the guy's behavior and read him the riot act. He and his wife moved not long after that. Good riddance; he was really creepy. 

The rest refers to the endless project of trying to either fix up the land we had bought south of Bridgeport or sell it and buy a 'real ranch' somewhere to manage our livestock business much better. Unfortunately that never worked out. There were times we were operating well below the poverty level when neither Dad's writing nor the sale of various animals made the ends meet.  It was often not very pretty.

The first picture is Prez and the second is him under saddle. The third is Annie but I cannot tell for sure if it is me or Mom holding her. This was above Mescal Canyon, one ridge south  from the highway up to Jerome. Since she did not ride a lot I think it is probably me.

Memoir Monday, Sept 20, 1961

Senior year, just coasting along in many respects. School was only the necessary hours each day plus the bus rides up to Jerome and back. The rest of each 24 allowed some meals and sleeping, occasional homework, plenty of cowboy girl chores and keeping track of my pen pals. 

Sep 20, 1961

Hello. Even today wasn’t a bad day, as days go, so I guess I’m lucky. After seeing quite a few proofs I’m still convinced mine are the best..(Senior pix) Anita’s are good (she called mine ‘suave’) Everyone  liked them though. I got away fairly early. The morning classes slipped by quickly. ‘Reen and I talked during noon as usual. We inked our abstract series. Miss Mahoney made me ruin my 4^th one. It was a pretty series of lines which I messed when I redid it adding solidness. 

I had my work cut out for me this afternoon. We had nearly all our stock in the dairy. Rounding up was a job but I  managed, with Dad’s shouted “encouragement”. I’m getting in the habit of letting evenings slip buy without my accomplishing anything. That will never do. 

I got a letter from Al. He said he thought we were “sincere, wonderful people,” and  he thought he was going to like it at Pollard’s. “Gone With the Wind" is on at the drive-in. I’d sell my saddle to go see it. Oh well, maybe I will get another chance sometime. If I was on ‘friendly’ terms with some certain characters…  Well, that’s it. I’ve got to say adios here.

I had been very unhappy with the regular school photos a couple of weeks earlier and did not buy a one but I had hopes the Senior photos would be somewhat better. I was actually delighted with mine, about the only time I really liked any of my photographs. I was often caught with my ugly glasses on and disliked how my two front teeth overlapped a bit and that was just part of the things I was displeased with. I often thought if I look like that I will just give up! But for once I could be happy. Today I still can appreciate although I looked so very young and innocent, almost unformed. In many ways I cannot identify with that girl at all. That was just one of the bright spots of my senior year and there were several more; in most ways it was my best year of school, high school for sure,  and my best year for much of my young adult life. 

My friend Maureen Jewell and I had art class together. The teacher, Miss Mahoney, was kind of an odd little person, apparently a single mom with a little boy who I think was named Max. I enjoyed the class but she gave us some weird projects at times, a few of which frustrated me. I recall this was a panel of four blocks with different type of lines and shapes, mostly done in black ink with a bit of color to highlight or elaborate. I used inks in yellow and a sort of magenta. I think I have it somewhere, probably in a large case or portfolio along with many other photos, posters etc. I admit--I kept way too much and still have an inordinate amount of souvenirs and junque!

We had an ongoing issue with many of the animals we had at the pasture,  or as Charley Bryant called it, the allotment (I think that is an old ranch/cowboy term for leased graze) getting into Tavasci's area right next door. The fence was not too bad but the cattle guard where the road crossed from one into the other was often filled in to where the dirt was almost level  with the rails. A canny mule would walk right across and many did. Tavascis  usually had a mare or two in their side and even though we had mares too, mules like to go follow or make up to mares. So off they went and we had to gather them and get them on our side. Yes, a frequent job for me. I would get torqued since Dad would be hollering directions at me but I was the one on one of the mares trying to collect the strays and drive them home. He might not see what I was seeing or agree with whatever I was doing and would yell and cuss for what he perceived as errors in my effort.  Almost the story of my life in those days. 

Al was Alfred Rydell, a pen pal who had been the Navy and just got out to go to work for Art Pollard, down at Sonoita in Santa Cruz County. Pollard had racing Quarter Horses. Al was a Texan and thought that would be cool. Turned out he did not stay long and ended up going back to the  Navy but at this point he had come to meet me briefly a couple of weeks before and returned a few days later driving one of the Pollard pickups for a short visit. I was iffy--was he Prince Charming or just another toad?   

As for "Gone With The Wind",  I did see the movie several times later on but at this point had only read the book a time or three. The family library had a hardback edition with still photos from the actual movie and I was enthralled, styled myself a modern day Scarlet O'Hara and thought Clark Gable was the epitome of cool. Had I gone to the drive in with one of my local "heroes," I would probably not have seen much of the movie. ;-) . But that was about as likely as the sun rising over Mingus the next morning. Date was a four letter word in my parents' rules and so I didn't.  

For spits and giggles,  a snapshot of Al with his sister's little boy and my senior portrait.  He as nice looking--about 6'2" or so with dark hair and eyes and a nice smile but actually really a stuffy sort of guy. After the visit I walked out to the truck with him and he shook hands in saying goodbye?!?

Memoir Monday, Sept 13, 1957

 Oh that was a trip!! I'll share a long ago "fun" day with all of you.

Sep 13, 1957

Here I sit on my frosh initiation day. Shaking so I can hardly write. Mercy me. See you later… I really look fit to kill-- I wore my short dress, one high and one low shoe, hair bow, baby doll etc. I went and rounded up Marty, Evelyn, Arlene and Vickie. Went up. At the first got marked with lipstick and had to crawl the length of the hall saying, “Hail almighty seniors.” Morning classes proceeded in a clumsy fashion. I got my hair starched and came home for lunch. Back up and the fun started. Frosh were divided into three teams. One member of each team was chained up and the others had to go to the ball field, the train depot and Crose’s to get the combinations for the locks. I was the one chained up for our team. Eddie Jacques was my ‘guard”. Arlene and some others came to talk to me. I was chained to the ‘hitching post’ but the senior girls made them leave. Jan came over some too. At last my teammates got back. Ed knew the combination and had already unlocked me but he with Jan’s help put it back so they could unlock it. Later I took a paper of Jan’s over to him. I washed up some with Tracy’s assistance and got my cake and punch. I watched them swim a bit. Tyce went in when he wasn’t supposed to as he had a cold and he had to get out again. He (Tyce) is great fun. He has a funny laugh and an infectious grin. He is also a good sport. Between Jan and Tyce I am really all shook up. Came home, showered and went over to the hospital to stay with Charlie Mike while Mom and Dad worked. By the way, we got $300 from good old Field and Stream. Tyce is not nearly as tall as I am but then neither was Jan last year. He is lots taller now. Dale is taller too but give Tyce time to grow.  As I said, blond, brown eyes and or brown haired boys just ‘send’ me. They are cool, man. I really was painted but most of it came off. All went well at the hospital. See you manana, Gaye

This one goes back a l-o-n-g way! Does anyone else remember their Freshman initiation at high school? Yes, I was pretty nervous and not ever being a fan of slapstick or practical jokes etc. dreaded it. It was mostly goofy but none of it was as bad as I had halfway feared.  There were not that many students because this was the year before Clarkdale and Cottonwood consolidated to become Mingus which three years later added the far eastern part of the county to become Mingus Union. It was just Clarkdale High and a rather small school. My freshman class totaled seventeen and there were only ten seniors! Our 'big' faculty totaled only ten including the principal, Mr Ensign.

At that time the seniors seemed so old and grown up! I was pretty intimidated. This was only my second year at a medium sized school after doing grades 2-7 in one room rural schools, Camp Wood where there were only eight kids in all 8 grades and Willard (Bridgeport) where the student body was about  twenty five. In both my father was the teacher.  I was in awe of Billie Jean Crose, Vincent Randall and the other 'BM/WOCs.' 

This was one day when my horse stuff did not have a big role. but Charlie Mike was still in the hospital with his broken leg. It was several more days before he could come home in a half body cast which he wore until close to Thanksgiving.

The prior spring I had a mild crush on Jan Nobles and this year very quickly added the new boy, Tyce Miller to my special faves. We never 'went steady' or anything, did not even hold hands in the hall and such (PDAs were seriously frowned on at that time!) but were a harrassing-each-other kind of couple. What else can you really do at the grand age of 14 or so--at least back then in the dark ages!? The girls I mentioned were generally a bit younger, 7th and 8th grade mostly, and my gal-pal group in lower town. 

No longer teaching, Dad was trying to write for a living and had a number of articles and stories in many outdoor magazines for awhile. Field and Stream and Sports Afield were probably the main ones. It was a rather feast or famine existence and that went on and worsened as the years passed from 1956 to 1966 when I finally left home for good. 

A few faces from that old yearbook--the last Hilltopper of Clarkdale High. Tyce, Jan, Dale (Evelyn's brother and my classmate), Evelyn and Arlene. We were all SOOOOO young!!!