Memoir Monday, May 16. 1960

 Another little peek into the lost year between the two blocks of my high school. I am sure the chores got done but I did not mention that here.

May 16, 1960

It was a pretty day except that it got windy.  Dad and Mom went to Prescott and I held the fort here. I fixed up a yellow blouse with rickrack to match my squaw skirt and made a little kerchief. I did the dishes, made PB cookies etc. Went square dancing again. The Steeles, Pecks and Jacksons were there. Dr Bates came too and was my partner. I’ve already decided not to go anymore. There isn’t anyone my age there and all. There are just no decent young people here and there is nothing at all to do. I get so lonesome and discouraged that I just don’t know what to do. How I’ll ever endure two more years of high school here I don’t know. I look up at Chuck Connors picture and he just stares down with somber eyes and says nothing. Beau, Curly, Deuce, Reb and Breed don’t help me either. Oh yes, Mom and Dad brought me home a watch. She got it with trading stamps and I am tickled to death with it. I never expected to get a watch of my own. Maybe all isn’t darkness but I sure can’t see the light. Maybe somewhere there is a light that never fails and I will sight it in a few steps more. I don’t know, I just don’t. PS Mrs Steele and Mrs Peck said my dress was real pretty. They are both nice. Adios Gaye

Staying home, I would have taken care of Alex who was one day short of a year old. Kids that age still sleep a lot or have to be 'corralled' so I went ahead and did other work to. Charlie was of course in school--about 3rd or 4th grade. The outfit I was discussing was featured a couple of weeks ago too- there is that 'bad' word--it was  a **square dance** skirt! I was not ever real domestic but I often did the dishes and if I had a bit of free time, cookie making was a big deal and they always got eaten up very  fast. Our whole family were sweet-tooths!

A mild little giggle. Dr Bates lived in Bridgeport and his son had been in 4th grade with me but had later gone off to NMMI (New Mexico Military Institute). I recall nothing about Mrs Bates at all but do remember a small scandal when the good doctor "ran off" with a teacher from the Verde Valley School.

I was sad no other teenagers came to the square dancing--well, what did I expect. It was "Square" and that was not a compliment at this time, quite the opposite. I was getting a bit tired of and impatient with boys or guys near my age--they seemed awfully immature and goofy! So I had my "heroes" to include the celebrity crushes (Chuck Connors) and the guys I knew locally--Beau, Curly, Deuce, Reb and. Breed were some of them. I  had drawn them and put up some of the portraits on my wall. They were part of the crowd I called "The Young  and Restless." No, not the soap opera; I do not think I had even heard of it yet. But to me this fit the blue collar guys in the 20-30 age bracket which I had some faves among and most of them were happy to flirt any time. Being out of school for a year, I felt even more dissociated from my peers and sensed I would "fit in" even less when I went back. Since I'd been doing an adult's work the past months and interacting with adult customers, I felt I was quite grown up! (Parents did NOT agree!!)

At the time I did not realize fully but Mom put a lot of effort into getting things that Charlie Mike and I wanted despite us being in poverty.  I did help at times to paste the S&H Green Stamps and Safeway's Gold Bond Stamps into the books but she kept track of how many were required and saved aside the little bit of cash to order things. This watch was one such and later I got a camera and a small record player. They were all cherished but I am sure I did not thank her enough. 

Oh my, those days. Not a lot of photos were taken and I did not have that camera yet--it was Christmas 1961. So I'll find a few at least somewhat pertinent. The first is Alex, probably spring 1961. The next is Charlie's 3rd grade school picture and the last is me, setting up  a post  in a fresh dug hole, probably at "the ranch"--our 20 acres down south of Bridgeport. I had just gotten that black hat--and loved it! And I think I have the watch on my left wrist though it is not clear.

Memoir Monday, May 9, 1962

Winding down the last month of high school. This was the day I got the word. It was a shock, a thrill and really not expected.

May 9, 1962

Today began early as they all seem to. The folks went out to do the chores early and I got up and did the home chores. I hemmed a dress up but I made it too short so I couldn’t wear it. I must get something done with my hair. It’s a fright. I worked on my paper in study hall. In English I was sitting in the library when Mr McLarney came in and told me I was selected valedictorian. I nearly fainted dead away on the spot. I had hoped so hard and now, I’m not sure I want the honor! But I got it, anyway. Judy Jaynes is salutatorian. Three weeks from tomorrow--por los santos! I’m nearly through with the “Adventures of Banana Annie." It’s rather cute if I do say so myself. In journalism we’re still working on the senior edition of the Verde Independent. Imagine me as valedictorian. Well, Moose, I beat you, didn’t I? I saddled Cinder and got the herd out of Tavasci’s and did the usual chores. The folks and I returned almost the same time. They went to see the Lizotte Place, Sasser’s again etc. and seem to have high hopes for the future. Everything is so impossible. I know I will wake up pretty soon. I’m bound to but the dream is swell. Tomorrow Sasser comes over. I start on my speech on Monday so I’ve got to hurry up on my paper. I’ve put some hours in on it tonight. Mrs Wease has given me my first graduation gift--a nice box of stationery.  I got cards from her and Shirl C.  I guess it’s real but I really can’t believe it yet. The seniors are throwing a big party at Montezuma Country Club June 1. Maybe I’ll go; it all depends.

The word? Who was going to be valedictorian of the class of 1962! I had an idea I might graduate with honors but what place I might be was not assured at all. I did not even know who my top competition was. Actually I kind of thought I was competing with Anita Schwartz. Was being the #1 a long term ambition or goal? Not really. In 1959 when I was a sophomore, I was at that graduation and my old crush and frenemy, Marvin Kallsen, by then known mostly as "Moose," was a co-salutatorian. I think Ruth Ann Chilton was the valedictorian. I made a reckless vow to myself at that time that I would beat him. I had not forgotten but it was not a huge thing to me when the actual day approached. Then suddenly it was a reality. I was thrilled until I realized, "Oh snap! I'll have to make a speech!!" I also found that Judy Jaynes, a new transfer that year or the prior one was just a point or two behind me, not Anita after all..

"Banana Annie" was a project for art class.. It was nearly a final assignment that Ms Mahoney had given us: to write and illustrate a children's book. My story concerned a brother and sister who lived in Central America and their Papa's mule named Annie who hauled a cart load of bananas to the port to ship away. It was one of the few projects I was happy with and I thought I did a good job. I still have it, actually. Heck, maybe I should try to publish it!

Mom and Dad were still caught up in the 'ranch hunting' efforts and had gone back to re-look at a couple they were interested in. Well, he was; she not so much! But whatever Dad wanted, Mom would go along with--mostly without a fuss but sometimes not as enthusiastic as he wanted.  They were talking maybe a trade with the 20 acres (unimproved but with a good well) that we had down below Bridgeport as a down payment I think. And Mr Sasser was going to come look at it.

Suddenly graduation was beginning to feel real. That final month was a roller coaster, a crazy race, a jumble of highs and lows and busy-ness that was exhilarating and also exhausting. There were days I was not sure I'd make it in one piece. But I did. And the 'chores' went on as always. Trying to keep the mules out of Tavasci's place which our leased pasture adjoined was a continual challenge and kerfuffle. It seemed like once a week I was trying to gather them up and back home. The cattle guard on the main road was almost filled in with run-off dirt and those crafty mules walked it as dainty as you please.

No photos but here are a few pages out of Banana Annie just for fun!

Memoir Monday, May 2, 1960

 

Going back briefly to the Mule Year.  Not a lot was happening right then!

May 2, 1960 Mon

Another busy day for us. I rode Col out to the pasture this morning. We brought Tiz home and rode her out this morning. She is a pretty good old mule. She will probably walk better than Friz. In the afternoon we shod Col up with special shoes in front. They have roller toes and are ground thin on the inside. I rode Tina in the afternoon and led Bo out to the pasture. I’m really glad to be rid of him. After supper Mom and I went up to the Methodist Church to the square dance practice. The Hoovers, Pecks, Jacksons and Mr Harris (a teacher) were there. I was disappointed that no young people were there. I guess maybe I won’t go anymore. I don’t know. It was kind of fun. I’m just tired now. Adios, Gaye

This was pretty typical of that time, riding a lot, swapping animals around and spending  much of an average day outdoors. Let's see: Colonel was a bay gelding we had gotten along with some of the mules. He was a nice, calm and steady horse and I rode him a bit for a while. He could also lead or pull so that gave Tina a rest. He was a plain bay in color and not at all remarkable but not ugly or anything. He had a  habit of stumbling and 'interfering' or kicking an ankle at times  with the other foot. We tried some corrective shoeing to see if it would help. As I recall it did. The curved or rolled toe would be less likely to catch and cause a stumble and the shoe being thinner on the inner edge would change the balance of the way the foot swung and reduce the move too far inside to hit the other leg. 

Poor little Lobo or "Bo"  was a small odd colored horse who was also acquired with a bunch of mules. He had a habit of bucking and never wanted to give that up. He also had a swelling on the side of his jaw that was probably painful and may have added to his being fractious at times. We thought for awhile he had distemper which can cause odd sores that break and drain as well as "cold" type symptoms of running nose etc. However it turned out he had an abscessed tooth. Surgery to remove it would have been pretty costly and that would not cure his bucking so the chances to sell him were slim. He ended up going back to the dealer. I fear he ended up at the slaughter house. That was kind of sad.

Bertha Mae White, the pastor at the Methodist Church where we went off and on (Mom, Charlie Mike and me), was very eager to get community things going. I was excited when she began the square dance classes. I had hopes some other young people might show up but that was in vain. Even then I do not think that square dancing was considered cool by my contemporaries. I enjoyed it even if the people were all middle aged and I did go back a few times.  I loved the full tiered skirts and petticoats and this gave me a chance to wear them and get out of those grubby jeans that were my cowboy girl uniform.A few years later, I took a square dance class for PE credit at NAU and had a small step up on the other students as I knew some of the calls and moves already! Allemande left and do-si-so!

Again photos are hard to come by! Okay, not one of the mules mentioned but another--and I was a little neater than often--no patches!-- for an 'ad' type photo! This was out at the pasture behind Tuzigoot. And there is one of those skirts--probably the year before as I was clearly going to school. By now I was able to make them myself and added several to my wardrobe. We had called them "squaw" dresses--no  longer polite--so I will just say square dance skirts. This one was blue and yellow as I recall--with rick-rack!

Memoir Monday , April 25, 1962

 All downhill from here or nearly so--just a long month left of my schooling.I knew I was good to graduate and there were no classes I feared to fail. Almost coasting for a bit but life was still not all roses and sweets. Chores, work, issues...it was what it was.

April 25, 1962, Wednesday

 Maybe the ball is rolling at last? Well, at any rate, I hope so. It was kind of cloudy and cold today. School wasn’t bad. I decided to write on Kipling and Stevenson for my second term paper. McLarney okay’d it. I’m still reading Exodus. It’s a darn good book. In Civics we had a test. I think I only missed one or two of seventy or so. Not bad, huh? Reen and I ate in the gym because it was so cold and windy out. We didn’t do much in art class except prepare for our Student Art Show which is to be April 30-May 20 at the Jerome Art gallery. No mail for me today.  I bought a “Toni,” a new diary and some index cards. I rode Cinder just long enough to lead Prez around for awhile and we did the chores out of the truck. The folks seem to be enthusiastic about the Sasser ranch so guess I’ll have to get some enthusiasm for it too. It really could be a made into a nice ranch. I really don’t care to much where we go so long as we get a place that we can move to right away after school is out. I spent the evening thinking, wrote to Jose and just loafed. We put off fixing my hair for another night. It looks pretty scroungy now but I don’t care. I’m not trying to impress anyone. Well, I only have one more day to be eighteen--crazy, no? I can’t say I’m too excited about getting older, though. Oh, hell with the mess. Tomorrow I really must fix my hair and then on Friday I’ll begin a new era. I hope we do go somewhere early in the summer. Maybe I can have Reen come and spend part of the summer with me. We’d have a cool ball exploring etc. if she could come visit me at a new place of ours. I daren’t hope too hard. Adios.

Weather was changeable then, just as it is now though perhaps a bit cooler  and also wetter than it is now. Still to be too cold to sit outdoors for lunch at almost the end of April seems not quite right.

Term papers. I always liked to do comparisons. Not sure why except it made it easier to hang your premise and go on from there. A did xyz while B did uvw, etc.. Kipling and Stevenson were always rather favorites of mine in English Lit, both men of their time and somewhat adventurous and explorers who wrote about many things--some for kids and more for adults, poetry and prose. The Victorians were much less prone to staying in a small box than folks even of the middle 20th century, much less today. I have never really liked specialization. I am given to making a snide comment about someone who is an expert on the ant's left hind leg and knows nothing about the rest of the ant! Renaissance woman are us or at least I aspired to be.

I dimly recall that art show. Ms Mahoney had us go up a few days later and hang things. Both Maureen and I had several pieces that were displayed, I think. 'Reen was a much better artist than I was. I may even have gotten an honorable mention or some such though. I might still have a bit of my old work in a big portfolio case along with posters, maps and other stuff.

My purchases: "Toni" was a brand of home permanent and I wanted to get my hair nicely done before the end of the term. I always had very fine hair, though never sparse or too thin, but it would be super curly for a week or two and then go back to almost straight again. I laugh to read "I am not trying to impress anyone." That was so me a that time. No guys in school were the least but interesting to me and with  my normal riding hat on, the blue collar "young and restless" fellows I noticed and was noticed by could not see much of my hair. They were probably not looking at that anyway. LOL. I kept my diary or journal mostly in steno notebooks at the time and was filling them up faster as I began to write more each day. Note cards for the term paper--and maybe later for my speech when I knew I had to make one at graduation.

The ranch mentioned was over somewhere around Prescott. For several years  we were constantly 'going to get' this ranch or that and move and have better facilities for the livestock business. Unfortunately it never happened and I got very cynical and bitter about it after a time. This one was kind of bleak or not pleasant to my view as I dimly recall. More on that later. In June  I will move  ahead to another block of time in my old  journals. That will cover my real cowboy girl years from June 1962 through August 1966. 

Nineteen--oh m'gosh! Was I really ever not quite there? Apparently so, or at least my old avatar was. Large sigh. I have no real recollection of that birthday. I suppose we had a dinner with some of my favorites that I asked Mom to fix and cake and ice cream. I don't recall any special gift or anything that I got  though I am sure I got cards and some odds and ends from my grandparents and a few other relatives. Mama Witt (maternal grandma) bless her heart, never ever forgot me and always commemorated special days. She was such a wonderful person and I always knew she loved me. Of others I was not so sure.

Cinder and Prez were regular mules--I know I have mentioned them often, as well as going out to the pasture to feed and check the stock there and all the other chores.  Mentioned or not, those things went on every day, regardless, and about 99% of the time it was mainly me doing it. Charlie Mike would help and Mom on occasion. Dad worked on things in fits and starts, depending on his mood, how he felt and whatever else was going on. It was often easier if he was not taking part! 

Do I dare use NO photos? I really do not have any very pertinent that have not been included more than once before. Let me see:  Okay, Charlie on Prez probably a  year or two later. Prez was a big stocky and stout mule. We all liked him. Then part of the corrals at the pasture on the 'back side' of Tuzigoot, I visited that place once or usually twice every day for a very long time.

Memoir Monday, April 18, 1960

Going back this time to the "Mule Year" when I was out of school and being a real working cowboy girl. It was not quite all work as some days were kind of exciting! 

April 18, 1960

Today I was glad I did not follow my impulse to run away Sunday.  I would have missed a lot. A guy named Dee Peyton from Walt Disney studios came by. He wants to rent Mary, Carrie, Tiz and Friz for a day or two. Cliff came over and rode out to the pasture with us. He is a darn nice guy, makes me think how BO will look maybe 25 years from now. Or if he were about 25 years older. We rested this afternoon and drove over to Cottonwood. I saw Gordo and as usual he waved at me. Old Vern ‘"the great stone face with sideburns” just sat there with a sneer on his unwashed face. Later while we were shoeing Lobo, Dee came back with his cousin Johnny Fisher. They left a big trailer here. After supper I went up to Eve’s and talked to her and Arlene. Arlene was unhappy because her “Sandy” is ditching her. We talked a little about RE. She still insists he wasn’t married and only knew that he liked strawberry sodas and hamburgers with lots of onions. A great help! Of course he’ll never answer my letter but I just can’t get him off my mind. I’d also like to know more about Buster. Why doesn’t a handsome mule buyer come along? However I am not content just to admire at a distance anymore. I want a real affaire de amour. I’m sour seventeen and never been smooched. That’s sikke. I aim to cure that if possible in the next few months. I am going to have to be a flirt if necessary but anyway I’m going to catch me a man by hook or crook. I don’t care how I do it. Adios, Gaye

Well, son of a gun. I can't recall why I wanted to run away--I sort of remember taking off with Tina and after a few hours coming home. I did not have feed for her and was a bit hungry for a meal myself. I just had to ride off my peeve I guess.

In the end we did not rent the mules but talked to Dee and Johnny a few times before that plan faded. I developed a crush on Johnny. He was pretty cute and impressed me more than Dee who was older and had a glib line--maybe a little too glib! Cliff was a friend of ours named Cliff Pfeifer. He lived in Cottonwood and did come and ride with us several times. He had an old mare who looked very good for her age in the late teens. He took a shine to the mule Blue who later dislocated his hip and we were unable to fix it without very expensive surgery so he went back to the dealer eventually. 

Mercy, I could be cold about some of my former fancies! At that point RE--the guy who worked for El Paso Gas when they were laying the lines around the valley--was not quite on that list even if I had been really mad when I saw him at the Christmas parade back in December with a very pregnant  blonde and he got a guilty look and dove into his car! I reasoned if she was his sister or a friend's lady he would not have been embarrassed!! But I still missed him; I guess he was working elsewhere by this time. I think he was from New Mexico.

I don't think I was"'boy crazy" as I was pretty particular--in my weird way--and did not want just any fellow but a cool cowboyish sort of one like a few of my special crushes. Did I manage to snag one that year? Well, no. It actually took me quite awhile longer to find Mr Right but when I did, I stuck with him for several years. Sadly though that story did not have a happy ending. Eleven years later I finally got married! Being a misfit high school-age girl was no picnic! Later though I knew I was not alone in that state, at least not as much as I felt I was for some time. It was just that I had almost no social life right then and the lack really chapped my --well, sit-upon!! Sikke was one of my made up words--kind of like gross and sick to the max, I guess. And I was not quite seventeen yet--that was some nine days away!

I really do not have many photos for this period.  The first one is the prior August and the mules I mentioned to be rented and probably Blue too were in that corral. The next two are me with Tina. She was always my pride and joy and most loved equine. She had such spirit--like charging up that steep hill. The other one was in the hills across the river from Clarkdale. That was some real rough country. Dad had probably been riding the mule and was off to take the picture.

 

Memoir Monday, April 11, 1961

 Still in high school. Did it really last dang near forever? It certainly felt that way at times but in others, it was over much too soon.  Graduation and then you feel you  have to quit being a kid, at last a "teenager" even if you aren't into the next decade quite yet. 

April 11, 1961

Today was not bad at all. I got thru my make-up tests and two book reports okay. No sweat, like they say. I’m still determined to stick to my ‘take it easy’ policy. No use worrying, actually. School passed uneventfully. I reckon I can live through it for seven or eight weeks more. I only got one letter from a guy I quit writing to.  Well in fifteen days I will be eighteen. I reckon this is going to be a pretty special birthday. I’ve just got a feeling that way. I keep thinking how much I  wish Wayne was here. I know we’d have a cool time. I want a guy, not just any guy quite but a guy. I want one the other gals will be jealous of. (Shame on me, huh?) We did the chores via the truck so there was no riding tonight. I hope Rio comes up over the weekend. I won’t get a letter from Wayne tomorrow but I will get a letter tomorrow and my birthday will be special. The odds are 2  to 1 or 3 to 1 at least. Pretty good, no? And Wayne will come around June 1. Whee. Bye, G

Spring was coming along and there were warm days and then cool and windy ones--just like there are today. Apparently I had missed a day, either sick or 'ditched' or went somewhere with my folks' permission so I had to catch up on a little school work. Obviously not a chemistry test!! I was telling myself to quit worrying about that one class. The rest were not hard as a rule and I usually had my work done on time, either in study hall or at home, occasionally during a lecture, probably in history. 

I'd become a bit blase about my ongoing pen pal project but I still looked eagerly in the mailbox on  my way home each afternoon. Wayne was a favorite at this time but I did tend to blow hot and cold depending on the latest letter I got, maybe a phone call or perhaps someone else piqued my fancy. "Rio" was a local guy, a one-time rodeo rider and he was trying to break a little horse we had that purely loved to buck. Not exactly a crush but he kind of fascinated me. I made him the hero of a 'ranch romance' story I was writing about this time. Yes, even then at almost eighteen I was writing fiction or at least trying to, and convinced I was going to be a writer.

I had a deck of regular playing cards and I do not remember the exact system but I would  ask a question and then obtain an answer by what card I picked. In the long run it had little real effect but I was hoping/wishing that turning 18 would have a powerful effect on my life. Did it? Not much! We were no longer doing birthday photos as had once been a family tradition so I have few to no pictures of me at this time. I didn't have my own camera yet, either. Thus finding anything applicable to illustrate this particular memory will be hard. C'est la vie. I'll look a wee bit...

Okay--this is one of my girl pen pals who came to Cottonwood with her folks (she lived in western Colorado a a town called Rifle) and we were able to go riding. She was on Annie and I was on Trixie.  The next is me in a dress I had made. I think the occasion was the graduation that year (1961) when Vickie Cranmer and I were kind of  hostesses at the reception after the ceremony. And last,  one of my drawings, of "Rio" the hero of my story "The Ransom of Rio del Sangre." It was a kind of Zane Grey type tale. I lost that hand written manuscript long ago.

Memoir Monday, April 4, 1959

1959--seems like maybe a prior lifetime!  Sooo long ago. I was a sophomore and not too enamored of school at that point. 

April 4, 1959

I simply live for weekends. I got off to a flying start before breakfast and I just now landed. I really cleaned out the tack shed and switched the stuff all around. Dad went over to Prescott to hear about a horse deal. I rode to Cottonwood this afternoon. Old Rusty was fine. I rode up to the feed store via an alley and was nearly scared out of my boots when Moose stepped out in front  of me. I guess my ideal man would be sort of like Buster and Moose all rolled into one. What a man! Dad says Sam Steiger is a real polite guy but looks faintly like Herb Metzgar. Gollee. We may work some deal with him on Rusty. 

 Adios, G

I always preferred to be busy and most of th time I was. This must have been a Saturday. That shed was behind our main house (we rented two in Clarkdale, one for office and workshop and lived  in the other) I think it had been for coal storage at one time. It was divided in two with a half-high wall of heavy planks. Anyway as we got more animals and more equipment, it became the tack room. Taking care of the saddles and all the rest, and cleaning it up was one of my jobs, partly self-chosen.

Rusty was one of two Tennessee Walkers we got in a trade when we sold five mules in March. He was a bright almost carroty orange sorrel with flaxen mane and tail, tall as that breed usually was, but a nice horse with the running walk gait for which the breed is famous. He did not quite strut like they do in the shows and events but really could walk out, a nice rocking easy pace. He was on a pasture at that time; do not recall where but Cottonwood area.

Oh my, Moose! That was the nickname--not mine but in general--for Marvin Kallsen who was then a senior and on whom I'd had a crush from 6th grade at Willard School in Bridgeport. I'm not sure--was he working at Patterson's Feed Store then? Buster was the cowboy foreman of the guy who had bought the mules and I had a crush on him too! They were quite different but morphed together would have been unique! LOL. I had strange tastes, maybe!

Sam Steiger polite?  Well, maybe. I guess dealing with a potential customer he was. He had a sales barn and dealt in livestock over near Prescott.  As a rodeo announcer, half-drunk, he was loud, crude and pretty abrasive--but funny.  Whatever!!  Herb Metzgar had a ranch  in Bridgeport, sold not much later,  and also a ranch up on the rim out from Flagstaff. We had bought the two old cow ponies from him, our first horses, Lady and Chindy. Herb  was pretty good looking in a dark cowboy way.  Two of his kids were at Willard , both younger than I was, Jack and Diana -both very blonde and their mom had somewhat strawberry blonde hair.  Funny the memories that  pop up.

A few random photos: . Marvin Kallsen and Virgl Stotts, 8th grade grads at Willard, May 1955; Jane Metzgar with Jack and Diana, about June 1955; Mom and me on Chindy (Gray) and Lady (Bay)  about 1954. Did not have Rusty long and have no photos of him but he was a handsome horse.