Monday Memoir, Sept 5, 1964

I was trying too hard, both to pretend and to convince myself that I was doing what I needed and really  wanted to do when it came to the guy Danny. In reality it was simply spinning wheels in sand for a bit but maybe that was required to break the inertia and turn off onto a new direction before long. I was  perpetually tired, bored, stuck and feeling like in reality I was getting nowhere fast--in any and everything.

Sep 5, 1964

Got up and off to an unbelievable late start today. It was 7:00! Got off to the pasture before 8:30 though and was home by 10:00. I led Chief around , just checkin’ like and nobody was home. Led Bravo and worked on him some. He sure is smart and willing. Leo was a bit ornery. Dad want to the dentist and found he has trench mouth.  Alex Fields has cancer so he went up to talk to him awhile. I took me a nap after lunch and just loafed. I really was tired though. I can’t get over yesterday. I’m beginning to think that I just dreamed it but I didn’t. This is a step for me--I’m going to get me a man.  I’m going to do every darn thing I can and if I’m still unkissed when “Danny’s gone" again it won’t be my fault.  So there. We did our evening chores and all drove out to the pasture. Little Powwow is doing fine--so sassy. Charlie Mike and I went up to swing before supper and paid the camp cars a visit but no one was there. Wonder where someone is tonight? I dare not guess. After supper, Charlie Mike glued model cars and I wrote a letter or two of small importance. I am going to go take a shower and then to bed to dream of a slim lean golden haired guy--maybe.

The day before I had actually talked to Danny for awhile  and built on my brief infatuaton, still plotting to ride in that Fury and kick up my heels a bit after days and weeks of trudgery* that had become much too familiar and tedious. I still loved the animals and in part did enjoy working with them and prided myself in the accomplshments that came in slow steps while training and caring for them but I was so tired of living as if I were fifteen instead of twenty one. 

*Trudgery was a word Alex and I coined years later as we were cleaning up our folks' stuff and doing yard sales etc. We put trudging (slow, weary walking) and drudgery (hard, tedious work) work into one concept. i think it is a great picture!

Bravo was the son of my mare Tina and I was very proud of him. Though Chief was his sire, he was so much like her which made him special. He just lacked her white markings except for a tiny star on his forehead. He was very smart and generally willing to do whatever I asked of him although he was barely six months old and recently weaned. Little Powwow was the paint mare Susie's new foal sired by Chief and the first one born Appaloosa colored. She was born on September 3, so was still very new. 

Alex Fields was a long term friend and hunting buddy of Dad's.When the Jerome mines closed, I think he had transferred to Ajo. He had recently retired and come back to the Verde Valley only to learn he had cancer and his time was getting shorter. I think he and Helen, his wife, had come back to Jerome, but I am not sure. He was also friendly with Dr Joe Pecharich, our family dentist.

As always I was tired. Of course a lot of that was mental--a result of being discouraged and depressed,  but then I did put in fairly long hours most days. Even in early September it was still hot and the afternoons were a reasonable time for a siesta. The evenings after supper were about the only free time--and actual freedom--Charlie Mike and I had. He was twelve, and would be thirteen in November but the restrictions we both lived with were about the same. Still we could go out and wander where we pleased in the evening and did so most of the time. So long as we did not seem to get into any trouble and were home by about 10:00 few questions were asked. Yes, we did cherish that bit of freedom and took all the advantage of it we could..

Charlie Mike had begun a  hobby of model cars  which were kind of a fad then. At this point I think he had an Edsel and maybe a couple of others. Sometimes I heped him with them a little bit. I was down to just a few pen pals now but still worked fitfully on writing fiction.That filled any time after we came in until bedtime

Again, a few pictures. Horses--since they were the main focus of about 90% of my life in this era. The first one is Charlie Mike holding Bravo  and this was about the time covered here. Next I have Bravo,  a bit later in the fall. The last is Powwow with her mama, only a few days old. She was still just a baby.

Memoir Monday, Aug 29, 1964

 Now back to the railroad work train saga which will pop in and out for the rest of 1964 and all of 1965 as well. I will share no spoilers and let the tale develop as it actually did. I am pretty sure I mentioned this gang, Bridge and Building #6 or B&B 6 had been there in the spring, coming back in the summer for a short stay. They had left on August 21 but were back a week later on the 27th as the Bitter Creek Bridge had been almost washed out, again something I have mentioned before. I'd been half-heartedly trying to get acquainted with Danny, the laborer who had the Corvette and the Plymouth Fury. That was not progressing fast and in the long run was not meant to be. Dan ended up marrying Joyce Killabrew in 1965 and was starting to go with her about this time. It was a short lived marraige as they split within about a year. But I had a mild crush for a bit and worked on it as I could, aided and abetted most of the time by Charlie Mike who wanted more ties to the railroad industry that so fascinated him. I might mention both our grandfathers had been railroaders, G'pa Morgan was train crew and G'pa Witt in the admin side.Trains were in our blood for sure. Still fans though my favorite AT&SF and his D&RGW are no more.

Aug 29, 1964

I got up early to get off to an early start and I did. Even with riding out all the fences and putting up the Forest Service fence, I got back by 10:30. Led Chief and Pat and then saddled Leo. He went off real well. Guess who’s staying here this weekend. I nearly flipped. Finally the riding and chores were done and we ate. Charlie Mike and I rode over but Dan was out of sight. He was in eating but wouldn’t come out. Later Charlie Mike went back to talk. Dan is 20, his b’day was August 17. He graduated from Winslow High in 62, had 14 cars and then went to work for the railroad. He wants to quit and start a garage in Winslow. Woody’s at Winslow, they say. We did our chores a little early. rode over again but Dan and Jim Wilson were inside. After supper Charlie Mike and I wrote letters. He said I should go ahead and send what I wrote.. I really want to talk to him but if I can’t by tomorrow pm, I guess I should. Darn, why did I start liking him? But I guess I do so that’s that.  And now I’ve got to play my hand. All is fair in love, war and horse trading, no?

I don't say what horse or mule I was riding but that was not too significant. I had taken on leading the two stallions and another stud colt for exercise almost daily. They were kept in small paddocks or pens about 20' square or so and needed to move more. Chief, the Appaloosa, was well broke but Dad did not let me ride him for quite awhile. Leo, the young Quarter Horse was being ridden for training as a two year old but not yet  fully trained, and Pat was Patrick, the gray mare Patsy's colt sired by Chief. I broke him the next summer.

Dad rode Leo a few times but with his big saddle was too heavy so I pretty much took over his training as I did with several of the young horses. I rarely had much trouble with them and (brag, brag) think my gentler and less demanding manner really worked out better than the rougher "mule style" that Dad employed. I actually got pretty upset several times when he deemed it necessary to 'teach them some manners' in a rough way. These colts were almost born gentle and Did Not Need that kind of treatment. But arguing was fruitless and didn't make things any better. I mostly learned to keep my mouth shut, whether or not I disapproved.

As September began there were two trips that both were impactful but I'll let that ride until after next week when I cover September 5. There may be an extra post next to kind of bridge across some things otherwise not covered. The trips were on September 10 and 12, so the latter will be a regular entry bit may need some background. In this bit, Woody was a guy who had been on the gang earlier and Jim Wilon was a new man we had recently met. Charlie Mike had talked to him several times but I had not much at this point.

Pictures? Horses I guess since I never got one of Danny and there is not much else to cover... First I'm riding Annie and leading Chief , Probably a bit later in the fall since I  have a jacket on. Next Leo Mix as a two-year old. He was shaping up to be quite a handsome horse! He also had a very sweet temperment. And last my young Patrick, about a year old now and going to be a good looking horse too!  He was a son of Chief and did not get the Appy color (he was born almost black and went a roany blue before  he was grown. It was pretty, anyway.) but a lot of similarities in the conformation. I broke and sold him the next year.

Monday Memoir, Aug 22, 1963

Back a year from last week. My random selection habit does that. But if one really must read the whole contiuing tale, I do have e-copies of my 1943-1971 autobiography/memoir. It's not quite publication ready but I am no longer keeping it under lock and key. Heck, I opened the skeleton closet some time ago and a lot of junk fell out! It is very old news and many mentioned are not even in this world anymore. So call it declassified (LOL) No longer TS/NoForn (maybe that is not used now but was when I was with the Air Force. Meant Top Secret, No Foreign Release. (i.e.) Stuff about the Space Track program that I wrote as a historian at NORAD was in that category often. So long ago--1975-77!)

Aug 22, 1963

I rolled out about 6:30 and saw clouds in the treetops almost and heard rain. I fed and did the morning chores in a shower. Annie and I rode out and checked the fences etc. We came up to the corrals and there we saw a new addition. Jay-jay’s baby had arrived. He was an ugly-cute little pink-brown scrap of a burro! We shod Chief and I pulled off Annie’s rear shoes. Dad planned to ride Chief after lunch but it rained so we had to drop that plan, (I wasn’t terribly sorry!) I spent the remainder of the afternoon sleeping. We got on with our evening chores a little early and got them  done without event. We’ve christened Jay’s baby “Little Pete”. She seems a good mother. After supper I wrote a couple of business letters and worked on two more chapters of Cindy. I just keep polishing it. We got a letter about the Colorado place and are more interested in it than ever. I surely hope we can get it because it sounds like a fantastic bargain truly. Well it’s late and I must say adios. I may get some film tomorrow. Cheers.

Nothing too risque here anyway . Another very routine day as so many were in those four long years. Annuie was a favored mule I  have mentioned often and showed in several pix. The trip to the pasture from my Clarkdale house was about 2.5 miles--guessing--and I usually rode down a dirt road past the tailings pond, dropped into the river bottom near the end of Tuzigoot, crossed a sandy flat dotted with mequite and entered our lease thru an old style bob-wire gate. At a good trot it took maybe 12-15 minutes to  make the trip each way. Then depending on what work had to be done, I'd be there for anywhere from half an hour to a couple. In the summer, downed fences were common so a boundary check was usually needed. If repairs were too, that took a bit more time! Then always putting out hay, supplemental feed to include grain in a feedbag for one or more of the mares, making sure the ditch was flowing where they could drink from inside the main corral area and so on. Also look all the critters over for any signs of injury or sickness.

Baby burros are the cutest. JayJay was Jennyfur Jr, the scond colt of a jenny we got from Sam Steiger a few years before. She allegedly was Charlie Mike's--as if he really wanted a donkey! This was JayJay's first foal. Unfortunately too line bred since I think the baby was sired by her sire, one of the jacks we had--not a good thing. The colt had a genetic fault called Parrot Jaw, a kind of severe overbite issue. But baby burros are really adorable! They almost look like fuzzy toys.

I mention afternoon siestas often. It was almost necessary. I got up early--normally 5:30 to 6:30 and was at work pretty soon. Then the nights were often hot for sleeping and I had a habit of staying up late to read, write or do other things of my own desire. Say 6:00 to 11:00 made a pretty long day, more than half usually active and outdoors.A nap in the afternoon heat did help to keep from totally running down. I often spoke of being tired also and I was. A lot of it was physical but also partly mental since there were frequent stressful and difficult issues and situations that gnawed at me.

Of course the eternal 'ranch hunt' never really ceased. We were looking at and trying to manage a move to the SW corner of Colorado a number of times. Around Cortez and Mancos was some beautiful country and only a bit more severe winters than say Flagstaff. It was never possible, of course--but that vague carrot-on-the-stick to dream of and long for...hope is a strange thing.

And I wrote and re-wrote on Cindy, my YA novel, off and on for several years. I had gone beyond my early teenage efforts at "ranch romanes" and tried to apply my experience and knowledge to a story teen girls would find interesting, at least those of that time. Now problaby not so much. They are much more sophisticated and urbane now, worldy-wise and .into different interests. Do any girls still love horses?

So some eye candy to liven the dull narrative: sorry, no cute cowboys. I didn't know many either. Okay, first is Jennyfur with one of her babies, not sure which one but this is cute and a shot I like..Next I am with one foal, very likely Little Pete but not sure. And last, Charlie Mike with Jennyfur. I think his expression is priceless--he really was not too thrilled with his new pet.This was about 1959 or so, making him maybe 8-9 years old.

r..

 

Memoir Monday, Aug 15, 1964

Now well into the second full year of that cowboy girl life...or my sentence of  unspecified length to hard labor. Things were going to change for me soon in a small but also very impactful way. I'll feed that part of the story in bit by bit--because that is the way it happened. 1964 was a pivital year and the wheels of change began to turn, v-e-r-y slowly for awhile but moving...yet I did not know.

Aug 15, 1964

Got up about like usual. They had plenty of water so I didn’t bother to water them, just went straight to the pasture. The river was really up. Prez and I waded by the fishing place but by the time the chores were done and I  returned it had dropped two feet. The folks took Alex to the hospital and I went to work. They returned to report he had roseola (?) rosacia(?)  I got a single letter from Laura. Got the chores and leading done by 1:30. We got some fly spray and put it on Chief, Leo, Pat and Prez. By golly, it works. I wouldn’t have believed it but it does. After lunch I finished the 7^th chapter of Cindy That’s been hanging fire for quite awhile and I’m glad to get it done.  Charlie Mike reports that the hombre who is watchman for the work train told him that Dan is only 20 and spending the weekend with a girl in Cottonwood. Shouldn’t let that bug me but I do. Something always goes awry. We did the usual chores to night. I caught Patsy and fed her out of a feedbag, I was so proud. Eve asked me to go to church with her tomorrow but Dad plans to go to the races so I guess I can’t. I’d like to though, really. Maybe next Sunday. Anyway I’ll be all cleaned up for come-what-may. Eve’s curse tomorrow? Damn!  Damn, I’m mad at Dan. I think I’ll ride by on Monday and flirt with all the other guys, especially Charlie, and just ignore him. If he likes me at all that will hurt him, his ego anyway.  

As I mentioned before --maybe in the weekly flashback last Friday?--the summer of 1964 was a wet one.  There had been a rain up the river, possibly coming down Sycamore Canyon or other tributaries, and a fast rise took place. But it subsided fast as well. 

Let's see--Alex was now five and I recall he got a weird rash. I cannot read my own writing on the word but anyway it was diagnosed as not really dangerous but I think he got some antibiotics or other meds for it.

Laura was one of my pen pals and our correspondence finally faded out. I think she got married and maybe moved house not long after this. She was back in the  Eastern US--West Virginia comes to mind.  Cindy of course was the YA novel I had been working on for some time, Cindy Walker being the heroine's name. Yes, it was eventually finished but never published. Eve's Curse was my term for the monthly miseries that usually hit me hard. I had terrible cramps often, due I later found to severe endometiosis.

And then, a Santa Fe work train had come to town. It was a B&B Gang or one that repaired bridges and other structures--mostly heavy carpentry type construction work. They had been there for a while in the late spring and had come back this month due to damage caused by the heavy rains.  Charlie Mike was a big rail fan and fascinated by all the different kinds of work and I was somewhat interested also.  In the spring I had gotten curious about the small red sports car one guy drove and had ridden by and struck up a conversation with some of the guys. It was a Corvette and belonged to a young guy named Dan or Danny. With my lack of social life and contacts, I got at least midly interested in that guy. This time he had come back with a different car--a 1959 Plymouth Fury. It was metallic blue and white, very cool (more than a Corvette to  me but had it been a T-bird maybe not so much!) Being a muscle car fan, I really wanted to get a ride in it...but that was not easy to manage.The Charlie I mentioned here was the foreman of the gang, and I was a bit put off by him at this time for reasons I never could later explain. And I did not flirt with him... I really never did.

So some photos: Evelyn (Morales-nee Graves) and me a bit later when I did go to church with her. The Plymouth Fury parked near the work train area. A general view of what a work train looked like--at that time they had old box and passenger cars converted to bunk houses on wheels for the crew. This practice has long since died out but Charlie Mike did get to experience it in Colorado with the D&RGW  about a decade later when he started to work on what became his life-long career. 

Memoir Monday, Aug 8, 1963

The second summer of cowboy girl life--or as I sometimes call it, my "sentence"... Somewhere between endentured servant and slave and prisoner?  Long hot summers and longer cold winters---several of them...

Aug 8, 1963

I rolled out at 6:00. Today was corral cleaning day. My favorite chore--ugh. I led Leo, Happy and Lyno up. Annie and I went out and got the pasture chores done. I got letters from Judy, Kathy and Mama Witt today. Chief had his usual trot and I came in just a wee bit early. During the afternoon I wrote a letter and a poem and took a nap. I was really weary and just couldn’t stay awake.  We drove out early to do the pasture chores and let the herd in to eat flubber. We also roped and worked on Donna. She remembers an amazing amount of her teachings. After supper I began Judy’s letter. It’s bedtime now. We are going tomorrow to look at Chet McCarthy’s place on Rocking Chair Road which is on sale for $25,000. Of course there’ll be something wrong with it but we have to go see anyway. Someday it will all work out just right and we’ll really get moved. I scarcely dare to hope but I can’t stand to stay here much longer. I’d give anything for a boyfriend or even a new male pen pal. I’m “so lonesome I could cry.”

 I think I said enough about  the corral cleaning task.  Not to belabor a dull, dirty job-- it got done some daily and at least once a week a very thorough and complerte job. Leo, Happy and Lyno were some of the  young Quarter horses we had gotten in the spring. They were yearlings, not quite mature enough for serious training, much less riding, but needed to be exercised  almost every day since they were mostly confined in roughly large room sized pens or paddocks.

To explain that "flubber", we had gotten a batch of economical but crummy hay that had a lot of dried mustard weed in it.  Apparently the grass and alfalafa had grown up after the weeds had come up since they are usually very early.  That dry brittle stuff had little to no food value and probably did not taste good either. The animals confined at the pasture corral did not eat it and scattered it around with some bits of better hay. The main bunch of mules that was out roaming free were not too particular so we could move the horses to a different pen and let the mules in to clean up, which they did. 

Donna was a mule we'd had for quite awhile and worked on some. I am not sure why we did not continue with riding and training her as she was really not bad. She was not quite to where I could take her and work with her like the somewhat gentler mules and I suppose Dad was wrapped up in some other projects and did not see a need to get her the rest of the way to being basically 'broke' though not trained. 

Judy and Kathy were pen pals and Mama Witt was my maternal Grandma. I loved her fiercely and she did so much for me all the time I was a kid and growing up. She sewed fantastically and I think I inherited that interest. Grandma Morgan was also a sewist but she died when I was just a tot.

Of course the search for a place to move went on and on--never with any real results, sad to say. This one was down just north of Bridgeport along the river and on the east side. I think Rocking Chair Road still exists but the area is greatly changed or appears so the last time I drove around up there. At this point I was just 'dying' to get out of Clarkdale and some of the ongoing issues that kept arising and causing problems but ...it was beyond my power to control, direct or visualize into reality.  If I could have, I surely would have. 

And of course 'social life' was non-existent and I had run out of ways to try to make substitutes like the pen pals and some flirtations with various of the 'young and restless' blue collar guys I encountered who I knew I had an ice cube's chance in Hades of going out with or anything else. So I was lonely and discouraged most of the time. To explain that "young and restless" term--I know there was a soap opera by that name but I  watched no daytime TV and don't recall even hearing about it. I used that term for the 20-30 blue collar guys who drove trucks, did construction, and similar jobs. They'd often married young and were not happy with being a husband and father so tried to maintain a 'fun'  lif'e with such hobbies as playing cowboy, motorcycles, hunting and fishing etc.Most had a roving eye as well!

A few photos. This is Donna or possibly Dina--they looked much alike. This rig was used to get them settled down to a saddle and stuff bouncing around, part of the breaking process. Next is Jolly Babe, about a year old. She was gray with a white blaze and two white rear socks. The next is Lyno Reed; she was a  tannish sorrel color. again about a year old. Last me, on a rare time dressing up. I think I was going to church with my friend Evelyn which I did do now and then about this time.

Memoir Monday, Aug 1, 1962

The first months of my "four year  sentence" I'd assigned to myself, not yet guesseing how long and hard it would be. Still half way wishful on the college thing--but I set so many deadlines and let them go by... My bad? Not really; I was just not strong enough to break the chains and ties that bound me.

Aug  1, 1962

Hello me! I got up at 6:30 to silence my noisy little alarm clock. I took a few minutes to wake up and then I marched out bravely to meet the day. I did all my usual morning chores of course but on a new schedule more or less. With Annie gone, poor Chip was confused. No mail for me today. When I came home, I read one of my library books. Then it was lunch time. I cut out a pink shirt and then wrote a letter to Jose. I ‘fessed up about the letter return bit etc. I really don’t know why. Something just made me do it. He’ll probably be thoroughly riled but we’ll see. Charlie Mike went up but he didn’t take my letter so I had to do it. I didn’t mind though. It was rather cloudy but I rode out anyway. It didn’t rain so I really had nothing to worry about. Chip behaved nicely. The whole herd came in together as they did this morning. At least Annie hasn’t taken off yet. I hope she doesn’t. Really not much happened today. I guess I shouldn’t waste a whole page on such a day but I’ve got a new diary book waiting to be used so I can be a little wasteful; We keep talking about moving and such,  I wish we really would! One more month--that’s all. I said it and I’ll stick to it.  I still could go to Grand Canyon College. I think I’d almost like to go away and live an entirely different life for awhile.

Not much to explain or clarify here. Annie and Chip were mules I have mentioned before. Jose was still a favored pen pal at this time; I don't recall this incident I mention--a minor disagrement had occurred I think.  There were recurring problems with fences down and bunches of our animals straying far off from where they were supposed to be in the pasture area we rented out behind Tuzigoot. This was a constant and ongoing matter. The 'ranch hunt' and possible move notion went on and on, a total fable or fairytale really. I had realized it was not going to happen well before this but still wanted to believe, I guess. We lie to ourselves better than to anyone else.

A calm and rather dull day, really. Starting the third month since I finished school I was still trying to pretend that I could and would be going off to college . In a way, a pipe dream and a bad joke, all rolled into one. Somewhere deep inside I absolutely knew it was not going to happen. It was rather similar to my lengthy desire to have a social life with a 'real' boyfriend and start looking ahead to adult relationships. If I mentioned either around my parents, I got the old brush off that began when I was in my early to mid-teens! "Oh, it's much too soon for all that; wait and grow up." Yeah, right. Until I am 45?!?

I go back to what I finally realized early in working on my main memoir project--the full book one. I was really never supposed to grow up. Their plan, especially Dad's, was that I would remain a docile, adoring and genderless child 'forever', virtually a semi-human pet. In some ways I was to be the only one and Charlie Mike was often treated very badly, perhaps for simply being born and throwing a wrench into that progrram. The idea of my being an indepenent entity and eventually moving on to my own life was appalling to my father! Unbearable and a catastrophe he would not accept.  Yes, that is warped and twisted and wrong but it is a truth that I have finally come to recognize. So college was the same way--they had been proud of my being valedictorian and getting some modest scholarships but it was "too soon."  How could they permit me to go off and live elsewhere and no longer be right there, every day and every hour?

At this time and for the next four years, I believed what they wanted and were demanding to keep was my labor and all that I did to support the livestock "business" and other enterprises Dad pursued but that was really only a minor part of it.  Like many people who are at least marginally unbalanced, Dad could be charming, persuasive and very convincing. With the enmeshed family and emotional incest at work, I was really terribly brainwashed and overwhelmed.  I just wish I could have started to sever those clinging webs so much sooner. That I fnally did is almost a miracle but I did have help--besides my Guardian Angel in whom I absolutely believe, there were a few people who were there for me in subtle, often unseen but at times very positive, even critical ways. I am eternally thankful for them. I will introduce one before long when I get to a few entries from 1964 and 1965.

Pictures? I can think of very few so one or two to contrrast me on May 31 and now on August 1.  It is almost hard to identify with this young woman in the white gown. Then the cowboy girl--Annie is on my left, a big rangy raw boned mule she was but a good one. She served me very well. And then Charlie Mike and me in the junked up yard. I would have been preparing to ride out to the pasture, no doubt. He often wore even raggedier and more pitiful clothes and shoes than I did. He is very bitter now and hates his father. After a few things he has told me that I did not know, I truly understand. Abuse of many kinds...I am sad. I wish I could have helped him more.

Memoir Monday, July 25, 1964

 I got my days crossed and July 25 1963 got in where July 18 should have been. Scrambled brained me. so I will try to get back on track with a jump ahead of one year. 

July 25, 1964, Sat

I didn’t try to get up early. What’s the use? Fed, ate breakfast etc. Drove out and worked on Happy’s and Ginger’s manners a bit. They get pretty sassy. When we came home I saddled Prez and watered everyone and then led Lyno, Leo and Chief and rode Buzzie. She was just a little tight at first. I guess she is in heat but she did okay. Finally got done and came in about 2:30. That’s the worst yet. After lunch I read my mail and then lay down and slept until 5:00. I guess that is a poor way to spend the afternoon but I was tired as could be. We did our home chores and drove out. Mom went along to admire Bravo. A big cloud came up while we were out there and we barely beat the rain home. And did it ever rain. It leaked in all over and we had to move things frantically. It must have rained   2” or more in an hour. Oh it was terrible! It really was. We went down to check on the stock and the canyon was running like mad. All the critters were standing in water.  Gee this is really awful. The corrals, trails etc will be a hell of a mess. I dread for tomorrow to come. Then I wrote a sentence backwards. Isn’t that silly, I said? But it might come in useful sometime.

The summer of 1964 was one of some big rains. This was one day of it and August saw even more and worse. When water came down the Clarkdale canyon it often flooded the area where the corrals were up to 6-10 inches. It drained off fairly fast but left a mess on it's wake. The road out to the pasture could get pretty slippery and sometimes the ditch that ran through the dairy and the middle of the pasture would wash over the bridge the road used to cross it. The bridge was never taken out though but I expect it is gone now with the marsh and all. I'm not even sure if there is a road from the other end that extends to the pasture area.  I haven't found one in recent years anyway, although there is occuppied private property just to the south. 

I have mentioned the horses named here before and mostly provided photos. I do not have many flood shots but may find a few. Bravo was my beloved Tina's first foal, sired by Chief, and he was born March 19, 1964. That means he was close to time to be weaned but he'd had an accident from which he was recovering so that was delayed a bit. He did not come out Appaloosa, a bit disappointing, but otherwise he was a fine handome colt and almost uncannily similar to his dam except more brown the reddish bay. His white markings were a bit less than her's also.

Those houses in Clarkdale were not in the greatest state of repair. The one we lived in had a terrible pathetic roof. Supposedly it was replaced after the old wooden shingles caught fire once but for some reason it never stopped leaking! I think water came down around the central chimney and I'm not sure where and how else. Maybe that is why I tend to freak out about leaky roofs! We had a good job done on the porches here in 2020 which did leak some at first but the house itself was just reroofed when we contracted for it  and should be good for awhile barring bad hail or fierce winds. 

I have been able to read backwards or upside down since I was fairly young. Just for spits and giggles I decided to see if I could write (in cursive!) backwards and by golly I could. Not quite as neat but legible. I still can read upside down very easily and do so at times.  Dubious talent?!

The first photo shows the lowest point of Clarkdale or close to it. about 1965. Many houses were vacant and vandalized. This was across the street from our two houses.  It was really desolate and pitiful looking then. The next is Bravo, about the time of this date. He was 4-5 months old  and looked so much like Tina except less white. And a shot of her about the same time. She had a white blaze face as well as the one white foot.