Memoir Monday Jan 25, 1959

 

Saturday, January 25, 1958

Got up at 8:00. Fed the stock. It was rather cloudy. Ate breakfast. Cleaned the corrals. Went down and met the Mullins girl. Her name is Alberta. She is really nice and I like her already. We talked about her old school, our school, horses, dogs—lots of things. Then Janni came up. We beat Cottonwood 53-35 she said. She and I sawed wood. Lunch. Then we rode up on Mingus to Zeke’s upper spring.  I kept my eyes turned from Apache Maid. It would be much more romantic if Dad had forbidden me to speak of Tyce or think about him or perhaps sent me to Cottonwood for the second semester or even ordered me not to talk with, look at or dream about him. He only makes T out to be an SOB, a skunk, a slut’s son a—Oh to hell with it. Well, back to the ride. Janni stayed until all the stock was put up and fed. She is a game and spunky little kid. Ate supper. Rested a bit. Manana, vamos a la Mingus y trabajamos muchos. Y Lunes yo tengo que hace un decision muy importante. Pero hasta Lunes no peinso en un decision. Well adios for now. Y amor a quien? Manana yo veo a quien va mi amor. G

More 'splaining. Some of it I have to kind of dig to remember myself! Alberta and her family moved in down the street from us in Clarkdale that month, a few days before this. They had a pair of palomino Shetland ponies as I recall. It does not seem they stayed too long but Alberta was nice and we became friends for awhile. A few days later she went riding with me--on one of my animals, not a pony. 

 Janni was Janice Benatz. She was about the youngest in my gang of young lower Clarkdale gal pals and was the right age to be kind of horse crazy. Despite about a four year age gap I considered her a friend and she was mature for her age in some ways. 

The hills between Clarkdale and Jerome were part of the grazing land leased by Zeke Taylor who then sold his interest to Ken Chilton. We rode though that area a lot, always careful to close gates and not disturb the cattle or anything. Where was that spring? Darn if I can exactly locate it--probably about due south of Jerome along the Mingus foothills. 

Tyce--ah yes, Tyce Miller who was about the closest to a high school boyfriend I ever had. We did not go steady or anything but had almost every class together and were kind of friends being both into horses and cowboy stuff. He always seemed to feel he could talk to me as I would listen and not be rude or sneering. We were both kind of misfits I guess. He was just there the one year. For some reason my dad took a huge exception to this boy--I guess because I talked about him a lot? Where and how dad found so much stuff to criticize I have no idea; I cannot imagine why he thought Tyce's mom was some kind of tramp except she had very red hair that looked dyed. They lived out at Beaver Creek Ranch but Tyce boarded in Clarkdale to go to school. 

I was taking Spanish that year and kind of fell in  love with the language. I think there is an error or two here but most of it seems right. I also used it as a code of sorts since my mom knew French and dad knew German but neither really knew Spanish! 

Pictures: Tyce from the annual for that year.  Me holding two of the horses, the early ones we had, at a water tank but do not think this was the mentioned spring. Yours truly but probably 8th grade rather than frosh year. Looking geeky!! That perm was awful! And last, me riding Tina in some of those rugged hills south of Jerome. 

Memoir Monay: Jan 18, 1961

 I just grab a year at random and find the date so there will be jumping around. Next time I will probably go back a few years. It is all for sh*ts and giggles anyway! 

"Jan 18, 1961                                                               Wednesday

Well it was back to school with me again. Evelyn (Graves) and Sharon (Paget) were both absent. We had a test in History and also a movie. I read "Shane" today. It is one of the best books I've read in a long time, a thoroughly different "western." I think I'll call Howard "Shane". If he has read the book he should be flattered. If I can find a copy in pocket book size, I'll send it to him.  The whole day passed quickly. On the way down home who should come whizzing around our bus but "Brick." He passed all four buses and kept going. It hit me again watching him, hit me more strongly than ever. Can I ever really give him up inside? I don't know but I'm afraid I can't. Someway I have to see him as soon as possible and talk to him. I have to see if he is really through with me but from the way he watches me in the rear view mirror and the way his hands tighten on the wheel I can hardly believe he is.  I got a letter from Jack Byers and Nicki B. I wrote several letters tonight. I have used up nearly $1.00 of stamps and and still haven't mailed off all my letters. Dad and I rode Cinder and Trixie out to the pasture where we fed the monsters. We always run all the way both ways. One of these days Cinder will beat Trix. She is fast but he is faster.  Well, I must be going. It is about my bed time. I'm tired as usual and rather thoroughly upset. Damn Brick, why did he have to come back now? If someone does not come along soon I will go back to him. I know it but I am helpless. Adios, Gaye"

Again  since most readers will not make much sense of this I'll try to explain--briefly! Okay, I was back in school as of the fall 1960 term, doing my junior year one late now. While I had been out of school I had  a letter in the pen pal column of Western Horseman magazine in the Junior Horseman section and had received scads of letters.  I tried to answer them all for awhile but finally had to pick and choose even if postage was pretty economical in those days. Howard was one I kept for quite awhile. He had cerebral palsy or epilepsy or something but was fascinated with cowboy stuff and interested in 'fast draw' and all that. He wore black all the time and I later made him a black gaberdine western shirt. 

Cinder and Trixie were two of the smaller cow pony sized mules we had gotten and were still working on and had not yet sold. The pasture was some land we leased out on the back side of Tuzigoot and we rode or drove out twice daily to feed and handle animals there. The road was round-about with several; gates so we usually rode down a dirt track and then along the river bank as the shortest route.

Brick (I used a lot of nicknames and code names in my journal just playing safe) was one of my inappropriate crushes who had flirted back with me quite a bit the previous summer and with whom I almost got into some serious trouble. I had told him to get lost but he still had a nearly fatal attraction for me. He was one of those 20-30 age bracket blue collar guys that I called "the young and restless," most of whom would say their wife was married but they weren't--and although I was 'jail bait' still, they were not above seeing how far they could go. I got into that rebellion the previous summer and skated some thin ice, my unofficial 'rumspringa' in response to a very strict home situation. I was not allowed to date at all through high school and had a very limited social life.

And some pictures; The first one is a drawing I did more or less of "Brick"  Next is that year's school photos of first Sharon Paget and second Evelyn (Graves) Morales since I mentioned them and last is me in our backyard in Clarkdale. That may have been the next year actually like winter 61/62. I did not get my school photo that year; cost and the fact I did not like it!! Normally I hated my photos!! 

es: 

Memoir Monday: Jan 11, 1960

 Here we go again! 

" January 11, 1960                                                                                                Monday

One of those awful rainy days when you can't do much except sit inside and suffer through it. I spent most of the morning sewing on the machine. I patched several pairs of levis and such. I ironed after lunch until Charlie-Mike came home from school. Then we played baseball out on the walk. The destruction crew was working down at the corner and WW kept standing out on the porch smoking cigarettes and staring at us. He gives me a great big pain. I forgot to mention yesterday that I saw this interesting guy at Safeway in Prescott. He was a solid middle sized guy with coppery hair, tanned and dressed in reel-heeled boots, a Lee jacket and the tightest Wranglers I ever saw on anyone. We listened to a lot of classical music and then finally hit a western program on KFI. Quite a change from Grieg and Dance of the Hours and Beethoven to Ferlin Husky etc.  No one can ever say that I just like one thing. I'm not narrow minded anyway. I didn't eat much today. I am trying to obey my father! It's getting pretty bad when the mules are allowed to eat more freely than a man's kids. So long, Gaye."

Okay--definitely some explanation or discussion needed. First this was the year I was out of school, at starting with being banged up badly in a riding accident and then spending the rest of the year working with dad on training a bunch of mules and a few horse that he had contracted for and planned to sell, mostly for 'big bucks' which idea met with  moderate success at best. I was definitely totally into 'cowboys' and totally out of people--male type--my own age bracket. I'd been doing an adult cowboy's  work myself  and was sure I had nothing to offer my contemporaries and they had less to offer me. I had already felt a bit of a misfit and this year certainly intensified that. 

Who was WW? I really do not recall but apparently one of a crew that was gutting and reworking one of the more trashed out houses in lower Clarkdale. I think the last folks who had lived there left it pretty well destroyed.  

On the term 'levis', that was what all of us to include those my age group generally called blue jeans regardless of the brand. The ones I repaired may have been Sears or J C Penney's or some cast offs from my two male cousins in California that their mom sent for us to wear. I did use brand names in some cases as in describing what the guy in the store had worn. My mom did not sew well nor want to so I took over the machine and made it mine starting in about 8th grade. 

The day before we had all gone to Prescott to put an advertisement for Western Horseman magazine in the mail after a big push to get it done and there for a deadline. On the way home Charlie-Mike and I got a lecture about "temperance and self discipline" which made me say dad should have been a "Holy Roller preacher." Lectures were not an unusual thing and got much for frequent and harsh in the next several years.  I probably weighed 115-120 at that time and was the tallest I had measured--lost an inch or so later--at 5'7"+ and Charlie-Mike was a skinny nine year old. We hardly ate like hogs but were told we needed to be less greedy. So I almost hunger-striked for a bit. Yes, we did not have a lot of money but that seemed a bit extreme. I was edging closer to some serious rebellion! 

The photos: The top one is Trixie. In her winter coat she looked like a fuzzy toy and she had that cute Arabian slightly dished face. I expect her mom was an Arab mare. BTW that is my favorite little saddle she is wearing. It was so light even with the full mule harness attached that I could get it up on the taller ones easily. Trix was barely 14 hands. The next is a photo that probably appeared in the ad we went to mail. It shows Mom holding Blackie and Cinder, Charlie-Mike with Beano and me with Jupiter and Trixie. By the end of that season, Blackie, Beano and Jupiter had all been sold. 

Memoir Monday-January 4, 1959

This is kind of fun. I don't know if my readers agree, but maybe I am just doing it for me. You think? So anyway here is January 4, 1959 which was apparently a Sunday. 

Jan 4, 59: Shod Tina in the back. Rode up on the Cement Hills and just missed Bryants. Watched "Maverick" as usual. It was quite funny,. Another episode featuring both of them. Those I go for. Glory, I hate the idea of going back to school. I'm spoiled, I guess. Viva vacations!

So to clarify. I was fifteen and a sophomore at Mingus, the first year that Cottonwood and Clarkdale/Jerome were consolidated. I had somewhat picked up my old crush on a former classmate from my years at Willard School in Bridgeport as he was a senior that year. (Name deleted to protect the guilty!) but it was not enough to make me really enjoy school. I much preferred to be out with my horses or mules and exploring, free of the rules and routine that school demanded. 

Tina of course was my beloved mare. She was four now and a big strong mare who could scramble over the rough ground with the best mules. The Cement Hills were those big white hills behind Clarkdale where the "C" was painted and where they began to mine limestone for the plant when it was built and started. We accessed them roundabout since the old smelter yard was still securely fenced but could go up at either the west or east side of that. They were a good rough place to ride, challenging in spots. 

The Bryants were friends. He was an old cowboy/horse trainer and a real horse whisperer who taught me so much about riding and training--more by example than any effort at teaching but that as fine.  He had been raised in south western New Mexico but came to Arizona when young. He had little formal schooling and did not read or write much but oh, he was a genius with the equines. He did not drive so his wife drove him around in their little old car although he rode most everywhere he went.  He always had a horse or two and was usually breaking or training one. And most of them were for guys half his age!! He was probably early 70s at this time. One of my youth's heroes. 

And I was in my TV westerns phase. We did not have a TV so I watched at some friends' homes and was probably a nuisance!! Big faves were Maverick and The Rifleman. Had a huge crush on Chuck Connors. 

Photos: Me on Tina, charging up a hill. She was always full speed ahead and not at all fearful of rough ground. Next two feature Charley Bryant. One I am beside him standing by our truck and the other he is on a big palomino he was training. Then a general view of Clarkdale. Those Cement Hills are behind the last smokestack at the smelter which stood for a few more years. The last was probably my school picture for the 58/59 year. I had just started to insist on letting my hair grow. It was pretty long my senior year. And I took my glasses off for pix as I hated them!! I also did not smile often for a photo as I hated my overlapped front teeth.