Memoir Monday, Oct 30, 1965

In many ways this was a very powerful and pivotal day. I did not realize the full impact for awhile but it became obvious and  almost essential in mere weeks. During  the next two months, the effects came to be far more significant than I had even begun to guess at this entry. Though not fully realized yet,  this was the first creaking little turn of the actual wheel of change. This month (October) had tested and tried me fiercely but I was finding new strength and inner assurance that let me press on. A semi-meltdown or two did happen along with a few brief detours and side-steps, but a larger and surer goal was starting to take shape.  I still struggled to think for myself and plow through the smoke and mirrors constantly flashing around me and even to dare those bars and walls that seemed so insurmountable. Each baby step was one more up and out of that spiritual and emotional quicksand to ultimate freedom. 

Oct 30, 1965, Sat

This was quite a day. From 5:30 when I woke up ‘til 1:30 a.m. when I finally got to bed. It’s nearly too jumbled to record. I thought we might not go but we did and were away about 9:30. It proved to be a hot day in Phoenix. The trip down was uneventful. We got our hay at Freesh’s where Charlie Mike and I loaded most of it. Then we drove over to Tempe and got to the motel about 2:30. We visited with Grace and rested ‘til Ruth came about 5:00. They sure are different for sisters who’ve been together nearly all their lives.  Ruth had to pack and I helped some. Then she and I went out to get food for the others and ate our own meal at a coffee shop. It was an interesting interlude for me. They are working hard on me to get me to come over but I  think I may have other plans. We and they left about 9:30. We found all the gas stations were going to be closed but one in New River wasn’t. So we got home about 1:30. I only slept a brief little on the trip and fell very wearily into bed when we got home. I really have too much to think about. It will take some sorting.

We had been needing to make big hay run but had received a call the prior day from Dad's two elder sisters that they would be in Tempe on the weekend, so we postponed the trip. I had actually caught Dusty on Friday,  not long before he left,  which had cheered me. A brief visit was better than nothing!

To be away all day as we planned required a complicated  effort to get the critical chores done. Charlie Mike and I were both to go and Mom could do very little.  Alex was not old enough to help much yet--just six. Thus the early start, although delays always seemed inevitable. It was getting chilly up in the Verde, but Phoenix was still very warm. What was Dad doing while we did most of the loading? One big shrug--do not recall. Probably attempting some sort of deal.

Grace and Ruth Morgan were 5 and 3 years older than Dad. Grace was semi-retired by now--a kind of voluntary thing?--and Ruth was still a teacher and administrator in a big high school in the Sacramento area. She'd came to some conference or seminar.  As I noted,  their personalities were very different. Grace was quiet, sober and thoughtful while Ruth was voluble, chatty, and seemed ditsy or shallow but really was not. I went with her to get carry-out and we ate at that place. She suggested I quickly get my own PO Box and open a bank account, saying she and Uncle Dan would provide me the funds needed. I think she gave me a check. Ever since the year I dropped out of high school, they had all four (Dad's siblings) been working to get me out of a situation they perceived as not productive or beneficial to me. By now they all felt I should be in college. For the most part I agreed but was not sure I would like every aspect of their plans and direction for me. For a time that became almost moot but that is getting ahead of the story. 

We started  north very late and were lucky to find one service station open. That big old truck with a heavy and high load--several tons of hay--gulped a lot of gas and could only go so far on a tank and fumes! Thus we got home very late. How the animals were fed I do not recall. Maybe Mom had or had enlisted some help like maybe Charley Bryant.  At any rate it was late to bed after a very long day. I was too tired not to sleep but had a tangle of ideas and questions rolling around in my head and probably some odd dreams. However, I did take care of the PO Box and bank account within a few days. 

Photos?  First here are the three Aunts some weeks later.  Ruth is on the left, Grace in the middle and Roxie, a few years younger than them and than Dad, on the right.  The two eldest had been slender when young but now in their 55-65 ages were heavy as their mother had been. Roxie was always sturdy. I am sure I have featured the F700 truck before but here it is again.  It is behind Patrick, with a load much like the one we brought home. I know there were well over 100 bales on such a load. If I ever counted I do not recall the exact number. Possibly 150 or even more--depending on whether two or three wire size bales. Somewhere from 65 to 120 pounds apiece!

Memoir Monday, Oct 23, 1965

 A week made only a little difference. I was still trying to be very careful and "do right' so I had not really seen Dusty and was feeling that keenly. He was not going to take the first step because he'd said he'd give me time to work my end of things out. We had not really broken up but I worried it would end that way.  I should not have, but remember what my world was like at this time.

Oct 23, 1965 Sat

Got up fairly early after spending a restless night. I broke my chain in my sleep and envisioned it as symbolic of Dusty and me breaking up, but I was able to fix it. Does that mean I can mend our current rift? I hope so. I rode over on Buzz after feeding and looked around. After breakfast I rode out on Cinder and did the chores. I’m working on Becky Sue some now. The folks went to Prescott and Kirkland. I rode Chief and led the two little ones. Charlie Mike went out to do the midday, so I made brownies, cleaned my room, sorted clothes thoroughly and washed dishes. I’m gradually getting rid of a lot of creepy clothes I seldom wear. If I keep at it, my wardrobe will eventually be reasonable.  I rode Lyno out. She was frightfully high but I can ride her. They got back rather late with groceries. I made supper again--stew. We talked about horses etc. afterwards. I guess tomorrow will be rather frantic. Today was okay generally. I wish I’d just be left alone more. I can work more efficiently that way but I may not delve very deeply on my own I must admit. I suppose learning and growth just has to be painful. Wonder why? My diary/journal is the only place I can pour out my thoughts etc. Wish I could finish the “Story” up to date. Doubt that I ever will now though. I am having to drop an awful lot of things by the way and I’ll probably never return for them. If only I don’t have to lose Dusty but I rather feel I already have. Oh, then I haven’t a purpose, hardly. It’s all for him.

Charlie Mike was still on 'my side' in this all. He was getting very tired of our male parent's attitude and mean actions too.  Dusty was always very good to him, treating him just like a younger brother so he never objected to delivering a message for me etc. In fact he voluntarily checked in with the Bridge Gang every few days.

I guess it seems like I was always writing notes and letters--true, that was my way. Since this was not a typical "going together" situation, it was one way to keep in touch since telephones were not really accessible and there were no cell phones or email or anything; oftentimes meeting was a matter of chance and effort to try to cross paths. At this point, it was very happenstance as I was under a tight level of surveillance and did not dare push the envelope much. The chain I mentioned was the fine silver one that my little Zuni sun face came on, my very special 1964 Christmas present. I had worn it constantly inside my shirt to protect it. 

Obviously I was now riding Chief, stallion or no. He was very well behaved and performed as well as any good gelding. I was also working Lyno since she was not able to handle dad's weight with his big saddle. She was high strung but not mean or tricky at all. Becky Sue was a young mare we had gotten in Gallup, NM with Bunny and Peppy and Peppy's colt. She was fairly gentle but did not know anything--even after a year being there, so I thought to try. I recall her as a dark dun, nice confirmation with a lot of potential--not much realized,sad to say. In a few months I could have done with her like Patrick and Ginger. But time, energy, support or encouragement? Ha ha. 

I had a closet full of clothes I almost never wore and was sewing any spare moment but my ideas did not always turn out so I'd do a drastic thinning now and then.  A day when at least Dad and often even Mom and Alex were gone was almost a vacation--nobody was on my case or scrutinizing every task I performed and everything I might not be doing exactly as I was supposed to--under the current day's 'rule'. I so often felt alone and isolated. I did confide some in Charlie Mike but a lot of my concerns were just too mature for him. He was 14 now which is a long ways from 22. But I thanked heaven he was there as I tried to be for him. We trusted each other which was invaluable, a life saver. 

I was at a pretty low ebb-- Dusty and our bond was one of the few things I would absolutely not set aside, deny, abandon or give up. So much of the rest of the 'stuff' that was important to me or enjoyed continued to drop off into what few cracks were left and I doubted I would ever get into them again. It hurt--a lot. Thankfully within less than a decade I'd picked up many old hobbies and interests, added to them and made them part of my life as they are to this day. Resilience and determination can do so much. But right then...and it got worse before better.

What will illustrate this point in time?  Little new, for sure. Charlie Mike with Prez. He got along with the big old mule real well. An old shot of me on Chief. I cannot paint a picture of drudgery, bad weather, chronic tiredness. It would be gray and dull, brown like mud and kind of blue and purple like bruises.  No--that is too bleak. I will leave it to morbid imagination! 

. 

Memoir Monday, Oct 16 1965

 The "stuff breaking loose"  I had feared came a few day before this. Mom asked me a few direct questions and I mostly answered honestly. There was really no alternative. I might had lied to Dad but I could not to her. My mistake, really. And DTBL she could not keep it to herself and once Dad was in the middle of it, the proverbial jig was up. But mostly  he was playing very cagey and knew just how to get to me. The subtle and sneaky type lecture, aimed to shake my confidence and stir both fear and guilt. I was still seen as the fifteen year old though and not the woman of twenty two that I was. That was what saved me, really.. The whole story after the journal entry. 

Oct 16. 1965, Sat

Got up and fed the monsters. Ate biscuits for breakfast and rode Cinder out to do the morning chores. Charlie Mike joined me and we got rained on a little before we reached home. Of course our trip was cancelled so we talked instead. Now that my mind is made up what I’m going to do, it’s a lot easier to listen and think. I must get a long letter written to Dusty and then I will concentrate very hard on studying all sorts of things. I’ll cut my pen pal list down with another brutal chop. Five of the ten will have to go. After lunch we took Ginger over to her new owners. They were half scared to death of her but they decided they liked her and we got our check for her. Now to sell some mules. The chores were done in rain but I was warm inside. After supper I sorted and ‘strated’ up things and got my list of goals, plans etc. out and we went over them. It was pretty interesting , really. Getting the ranch and marriage and a family are my two top goals (No names mentioned!). Beyond that I only have wishes and dreams, and they are mostly unrealistic. I went to bed at 1:20 am after beginning Dusty’s letter--an important document indeed. I can always smell cigar smoke in the rain now. How could one forget that? Those kisses could last me a long time. Already I have had more than I deserve, so much more. Now to make myself the right woman.  Should’ve begun sooner but it’s never too late, is it? Not yet, anyway.

Things had come undone on Wednesday and Thursday.  I first got chewed upside down for my stupidity and basic wickedness and then came the sly part. My weakest spots were so vulnerable and used with no mercy. "Groomimg" was not a term used then but I got "the age fifteen approach" that I was being set up by an older man to be used or even maybe pimped out to the whole gang.(not in those terms but that was the inference.) Of course a cheater could never be expected to stay faithful, even if I 'won' for the moment. And I was certainly too naive and basically unattractive for anyone to be really interested in me. I'd need a dowry like property and such. It was just a silly crush anyway, and I'd get over it and forget very soon.  

Destroyed was almost too mild a term for how I felt but I was not quite ready to go to the river or to give up for real. Friday I sent a note by Charlie Mike and Dusty met me at the pasture Friday afternoon. I had to find out if he really did care; I knew but the doubts had been stirred so badly. It was a difficult conversation.  I sort of asked if he had lost respect for me since I had been willing to meet and act on my feelings. He denied that emphatically and asked me, "Have you done anything you are ashamed of? Have I? " And I could give an honest "no" in both cases. We had kissed and snuggled and talked; he never once 'tried anything' that I could possibly object too and nothing was ever disarranged beyond my hair!! I did say maybe I should not be seeing him so much under the circumstances and he said he should have broken it off when he left the year before for my sake although he had certainly not wanted to.  But I still lingered in his embrace and as he said later, "every time we kissed the sun came out." That was true; it was a bit drizzly with broken clouds. Finally we walked back over to where Moonspinner was parked and he mentioned how none of his dreams came true and he had always wanted a ranch but knew he would never get that.  I sensed he was troubled but did realize I was being pushed savagely by the home folks. He was not sure what to do about that. He'd let me set the pace for now. 

I knew then beyond a doubt that he was not playing games with me or acting out of any ill intent and that we would only truly be together when he had things settled with Johnny and was able to legally carry me home. Still I would have to at least make things look right at home and appear to be settled into a changed mindset and attitude.  To some degree I did manage that. I set my new goal to do my best to help the folks get that ranch they still asserted was "for me",  only I was going to try to get it for Dusty, too.  Yes, it was hopeless,  but I really did try.  I tried for almost ten months more but with a few near catastrophic events in the relatively near future and many more the next year.  November and December were nightmares and but for fortune, I could have been a suicide or a murderess. It came very close to that.

So Ginger was sold. Of course my breaking and training her and also Patrick was never mentioned nor did I get any credit for that. They just did it on their own, didn't they? None of that situation changed at all. I really never expected or believed that it would. I tried to convince myself that if I did everything right it would all work out. In that I was truly unbelievably naive and gullible. But the enmeshed family and emotional incest still had me in a fierce bear trap, one I could not yet escape. 

The only pictures here will be Dusty and me, the self-photo-shopped one of us together and him on Prez, playing a wee bit of his dream as a cowboy/rancher.  His place in my heart and the bond we shared had not been shaken and really could not ever be. 

Memoir Monday, Oct 9 1965

 If memory serves, it was the last really nice day for awhile.  Ginger was about to go to her new owners, two young women in Cottonwood,  and just this once there were few to no 'incidents' or uproars for a whole day! Too good to last? Yes, it was. 

Oct 9, 1965, Sat

Got up at 7:00 and did the feeding etc.We didn’t try to hurry much. Finally Charlie Mike and I rode out on Cinder and Buzz and the Boss drove. We wormed several and did the chores and then took off with Hubert. He was kind of ornery but not too terrible. The Boss rode Buzz to haze him for me as Charlie Mike had trouble.  He (the Boss) thought he’d lost his wallet but had really left it at home. (No one was blamed for that!). Mar came over then on Elaine’s appy and we talked briefly. We went down to Cook’s and got Susie, stopped to see Kitty (she bought a horse, cuss!) and then brought Ginger home. I rode her after lunch and she was okay.  I was quite relieved. I rode out and turned Prez loose, put Ginger with Bravo, did the chores and brought Cinder home. After supper I wrote to Judy and played records, Dusty’s gift last. It’s okay; there are three songs that I really like. So now I feel dreamy--it’s time to go to bed. I’ve had little time to think of my beloved all day but the warmth of his hand and the smooth coolness of yesterday’s farewell kiss is still very much with me. This was a darn good day for a Saturday. Now for tomorrow.

It was a fairly typical and routine day of  little 'catch ups' on various livestock tasks. Worming was a regular part of routine care and for the most part, mixed with mash (soaked grain or sweet feed) the animals took the medicine with no problems. Hubert was one of the two big mules we had gotten from the Phoenix feed and livestock dealer a few months earlier. I think we were going to put him in another pasture. He led normally but was not happy to leave his buddies there so had to be urged to allow Cinder to pull him. He was almost twice as big! I'm not sure why Charlie Mike could not get Buzzie to do what was needed but he was still learning and she was more familiar with me. It was probably one of very few times Dad ever rode her. He had no complaints that day but the next spring dissed her as "kid broke and worthless"--which really torqued me!! She was absolutely NOT!!

Elaine-- Stoos? I'm not sure: anyway another horsey gal we knew as did my friend Maureen Jewell. Kitty was another one. They all lived around Cottonwood. I think Cooks had bought the Bent River Ranch, on the west side of the river and catty-corner from Tuzigoot and the pasture. We may have planned to try to sell Suzie who was Ginger's dam. Didn't, though. Ginger and Bravo (Tina's first) were both 1963 foals so were two-plus years old now. He was an unaltered horse but unless Ginger was in season,  they would be okay together. I wanted to give Ginger a final ride and be sure she was staying trained before she went off to the new owners. Clearly she was. I had done a good job, not to brag but just being honest. 

A little about the record from Dusty. He had given it to me because of a few songs on it. Eddie Dean was a  middle level Country singer at that time, just below the big names like Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings  and Buck Owens. Somewhere along the way I lost that original record but working on my memoir book I realized I wanted to have it again. I got many old vinyl disks through an outfit called Discogs. They have contacts all over and track rare stuff down when requested.. I was still in Alamogordo when it arrived and I promptly recorded it on a CD to keep safe.  'One Has My Name' was kind of our song, Dusty's at least. And there were a couple of others on it with special meaning for us. We were not much into rock but both country fans. 

So pictures?  The first shot is a big mule, not Hubert as he was standard gray-brown "mule color" but this big. Next to show Cinder, he is 2nd from left. Annie is on Mom's  right--fairly tall but not bulky and Charlie Mike has Beano who was siimilar in size to Cinder. I have Jupiter--fairly large-- and on my left Trixie who was rather small.  Next shot is Mom with Albert; Hubert was this tall but much heavier.  And last the cover of my replacement Eddie Dean album. I can't scan the whole thing. 9 x 12 is about the max. Most album covers are roughly a foot square. 

Memoir Monday, Oct 2, 1965

October was not spooky in the classic sense but there were sure a bunch of trolls and bugaboos  wandering into my life and world about then. Things were mostly not even close to pleasant and "peace and tranquility'' were nowhere to be found. The matter of Dusty had not quite broken out and come to a head but it was starting to simmer. I had settled my position in my own mind and heart and knew I would be U.S.Grant-- determined. But did I know how hard it could be? Or maybe I did have a clue or two. 

Oct 2, 1965 Sat

I got up late and was late all day. This was another of those damn days but I guess better than some. I rode out very late after we talked awhile (don’t recall about what.) Brought Crisco back with me and Charlie Mike rode him after we talked some more. Then we unloaded hay and this and that and had lunch about 3:00. We drove out but I rode Cinder to lead Crisco. We trimmed the three colts’ feet and Chipper’s split hoof and did all the routine chores. I rode home alone up the river and Charlie Mike and I did the home chores. I can’t get contented and settled down to anything because things keep getting fouled up. I was just thinking I really can legally do whatever I please.  Like say, “I’ve got a date tonight and I’ll be home by 12:00.” They’d have a cat but they really couldn’t stop me. I should’ve forced more issues long ago instead of letting them all build up. Now it’s pretty drastic. After supper I played a couple of records and drowsed on my bed to listen, wishing for Dusty. How come I chose him (or he chose me) I don’t know but I can’t be sorry though perhaps I should. I really don’t know what they’d do if I just told them about it, even the total and straight unvarnished truth. I wish they’d kick me out but they wouldn’t . Ha, who would do the work then? Damn I hate this whole mess (Not you, Dusty) Letters or nothing matters anymore. Life wouldn’t if it weren’t for Dusty and doesn’t much anyway. Wish I’d die in my sleep, really. And maybe he would too. Damn, that is awful, no?

As always and even a bit more then 'normal', money was super-tight. We had sold Tony-Buckshot after we got him back,along with Patrick to the Verde Valley School. They were both allegedly my animals and I had broke and trained Pat by myself but of course did not see a penny out of that or even a mild "attagirl" for my work. 

True, it had to go for feed for the stock and a bit for us but I was still hurt and angry. And it was mostly me and somewhat Mom who were supposed to be going out and "selling" while Charlie Mike and I must find training jobs, maybe shoeing or other horsey employment on our own. That despite he was in school and I was already doing 90% of the livestock care and related work. And every day there seemed to be a new 'emergency' that called for "talks", lectures and diatribes on how we all were so much to blame. 

I think the idea that I was of age and no longer "had to"obey any and all orders or rules came to me during the miserable efforts with Crisco. I knew for sure I had partly created my own prison and  'age 15'  level of social and personal lifestyle. Was there even any possibility I could change this now?  Certainly not easily or painlessly.  Between the enmeshed family and emotional incest issues I might as well have been encased in a thousand miles of spiderwebs, reinforced with concrete. Yes, depression was getting very deep and dark. 

By now I knew Dusty was working on the legal separation but I had told no one except a very little to Charlie Mike. Of course even then Dusty was still "married" for all practical purposes and that would have held little to no water in my parent's view anyway.  I'd been warned off a year ago, and no one had quite fully recognized I had absolutely ignored that. Mom had some idea at least and of course would soon inform Dad.  My reference to Grant above: the Union general and later president was also born on April 27 and was a true Taurus. He once said "I propose to fight it out on this line if it takes all summer." (essentially no surrender) And I could be that adamant too.

Photos  . I took very few along at this time. Why bother? And I had no film anyway. So--fence work, one frequent chore since the fences at the pasture were old and not in good shape. Rebuilding them all the time. Then farrier work--this was a mule's near (left) front foot and I was filing it to level for shoeing or to ease pressure on a cracked place. And some donkeys--I never got a shot of Crisco but he looked like one of these.  Pick a shaggy light one. On the face of it, donkeys are not that different!