The James Talbert Family - Barry Co., Missouri
"Memoirs from the Life of Frances Talbert, daughter of James Talbert"

Introduction I am writing in my little duplex home in the town of Pineville, Missouri. There is about an inch of snow on the ground, and the temperature is 20 degrees Fahrenheit. This is the County Seat of McDonald County and the population is about 350 people. Big Sugar and Little Sugar Creeks flow together here to make the beautiful Elk River. And the beauty around makes one think this is truly God's country. Through the years I have learned many interesting facts and statistics about my heritage which I will try to list and place with this account so it will be with my loved ones if they should ever like to have it. Chapter I THE TRIP WEST Mama (Ada Horner Talbert) told me when she and my father were first married, December 21, 1902, she had $20 and he had a gold watch. Someone gave them a feather bed and a mule and they lived first in a little log cabin 1 and 1/4 miles from Cassville, Missouri. Mama said Papa used to run his two hounds up and down the road in front of the house every day after school. She often wondered if he would ever amount to anything. They were both teachers in their early marriage and Papa had attended the State Normal School in Warrensburg, Missouri. I was born February 22, 1910, in Cassville, Missouri. I was named for my Grandmother Talbert, Frances Ruth Sallee Talbert (but called Fannie). My brother, William (Bill) was four years older and two brothers died; Kent in 1908 and Marden in March of 1910. My earliest recollection is of sitting on my Grandpa Amos Horner's lap shortly before leaving with my family on their departure for the West Coast. Grandpa was a rather short, plump and jolly little man. I can recall how he petted me and his long white beard ticked my face. I can remember his black high-topped, laced shoes. (picture made shortly before the trip is on page 96 of the Horner Genealogy book). Our reason for going west was for my mother's health. In those days chest pains, hard breathing and trouble with the lungs was usually diagnosed as tuberculosis (consumption). It was later known that Mama had asthma, but we went west because she was in very poor health. She told me later that she felt almost well by the time they reached western Kansas. The trip west is very hazy to me, but there are some things I remember quite well. I was only three years old at the time. We left May 14, 1913, and got to San Francisco in September 1913. Mama's brother, Loren Horner, told me that the covered wagon in which we made the trip west was a new one with springs and a mattress in the back for Mama, and a pair of matched yellow (one transcript says blue mules) mules were purchased to pull the wagon. Uncle Bert Horner bought one mule from Mr. Silas Ball. He had to go out into the country to get it. When he got there, Mr. Ball's young daughter was working it with a plow. Papa bought the other mule: they were young, just the same size, and looked just alike. Those making this western trip were Mama, Papa, Bill, me and Uncle Bert Horner (Mama's brother). Mama was ill so she stayed in the wagon all the time at first and was lying down most of the first part of the trip. Uncle Bert drove most of the time and he had me up front with him. He seemed very fond of me and insisted I help him drive. He called me Fannie as most of my relatives did at that time. My uncle wasn't well, and that may have been one of the reasons he wanted to go with us. My father kept a diary of this trip, and I remember his writing in it in the evenings, but we never knew what happened to it. (Note: from Jim Talbert's notes about residences of his family: On the Road, Missouri to New Mexico and Colorado May 14, 1913 to August 1913; San Francisco August to September 1913, Ft. Grant, Arizona, September 1913 to April 1914). Bill was seven years old and I was three, so he could remember so much more of the trip than I could. My parents always said that Bill learned more in that year we were away than he would have ever learned in a year of school. There are many things I can recall; the mule team, the wagon with the various things tied around on the outside (washtub, frying pan, tub for boiling clothes, water jugs, sacks of food, and other things. When we would pass a prairie dog, I would call, "Bark, bark little dog, run back into your hole." That is just what they did, too. I can remember a little long waisted dress with a sailor collar and a bow and a straw hat that I wore a lot on that trip. I must have worn it most of the time, and I think I had my picture made in it at the Balanced Rock in Colorado. We stopped and made camp every night, and we kept the fires burning all night to keep the coyotes away. We heard many coyotes at night and, if you have ever heard them howl, you will never forget it. There were a few snakes, but I don't remember ever seeing them. After we got to Colorado, we saw prairie antelopes. That first night we were out, we camped at Pierce City, Missouri, a distance of 24 miles from Cassville, and the second night was at Diamond, Missouri. Often, we would stop for several days at a time so Mama could wash up our clothes and get some supplies cooked ahead. At these times, Papa would work if there was any work available. The entertainment those evenings was our wonderful phonograph with round cylinder records. My favorite pieces were "Preacher and the Bear" and a march by the Marine band. The music that came through that big horn was sure fun for us. Richard Horner (son of Bert Horner) told me a very true and interesting story about a dog we had with us on the trip. His dad had taken their dog named Sport along and somewhere, either in Kansas or Oklahoma, we missed the dog and thought he was gone forever. Sometime later, my Aunt Dollie at her farm home in Cassville, Missouri, stepped out to call the cows, and Sport jumped off the front porch and started after them as he had done in the past, but his feet were so sore and bleeding that he couldn't go. They gave him much tender and loving care, and there was much rejoicing over his return. We made one interesting trip to Colorado Springs, Colorado. We stopped with my father's Aunt Martha (Talbert) and Uncle John Manning and their two daughters. Uncle John was from Thomas Hollow, near Exeter, Missouri. Aunt Martha and Aunt Mary were twin sisters of my Grandfather, David Talbert. Aunt Martha didn't have room enough for us in their house so we slept in the wagon, and under the wagon when it was pretty weather. John and Martha had two daughters, Effie and Hattie. I saw the daughter, Hattie, a number of years ago. She lived in Idaho, and I just loved her when we had a family picnic in her honor at Eagle Rock, Missouri. She told me that, during our stay, I had lost my doll and Bill kept teasing me about it. She said I would shake my head and say, "Oh, Bill, please don't talk about it." She said my hair was dark and curly. Hattie said that her mother and her mother's twin were exactly alike in their looks and actions. The men played lots of marbles out there, she said, and they accused my dad of "fudging" a bit at times. During our trip there, we visited Pikes Peak and the Balanced Rock. I often heard Mama say how much she enjoyed the "Garden of the Gods." The following is a letter written by my Uncle Bert to his wife, Dollie; and his daughter, Veta, gave me permission to copy it: Manitou, Colorado July 17, 1913 Dear Dollie: I received your letter. Was glad to know you were all well. I am feeling very well but have not entirely got over the neuralgia in my head. We had rain here last night and snow on the mountain. The peak is white with snow this morning. If I was up there I would make a snow ball and throw it at you. We have fine cool nights to sleep, but not much to eat. Have got a little piece of bacon we brought along. When it is gone I don't know what we will do unless you send us one of old Bob's sides (note: this was a steer that Bert had). We can't think of having fruits and berries and beans---potatoes, tomatoes, and all those good things you have and fried chicken is out of the question. We sometimes have eggs and butter but they are ancient. The butter was made a year ago and the eggs laid six months ago. So you need not wonder if we are having a good home cooked dinner. This place is in the mountains and there is nothing raised here. I want you to get Aunt Caroline Sikes' address (note: Grandma M. J. Horner's sister). We may go back to Cannon City. She has a house and we may want to rent it. Ma can tell you where she is. We intended to stop there but the town was full of measles when we were there. I have not worked a day since I have been gone, in fact, I have not been able. These sores have been bad (note: in his legs). You remember how they bothered me there. They got much worse, and I spent several dollars for medicine, and it done no good. I was getting badly discouraged. We come here and Jim's uncle, Mr. Manning, had been afflicted with sores for years and spent a lot of money. He found a remedy that had cured him and the receipt for making the medicine and made me some. It has almost cured me. I am going to buy the receipt from him. It will cost me $5.00. I don't think there is any doubt but what the medicine is going to cure me. They are healing up and peeling off and I feel that my trip has been worth the loss of a summer's work. Yes, Dollie, I feel that the Lord has been with us and guided and directed our steps. It has been a blessing to Ada. She is feeling good and getting stout and healthy and I feel that God is watching over and protecting you and the little ones from the storms and helping you to bear the burdens and trials and He will help if we trust Him---So don't get discouraged and don't work too hard and make yourself sick. As ever, Your Bert "Receipt" - Eczema Salve Render tallow carefully, don't burn. Slightly cool and Mix thoroughly. Red Precipitate 1/2 oz. White Precipitate 1/2 oz. Balsam of Peru 2 Drs. Oil of Cloves 2 Drs. One pound mutton tallow Papa always made this for the whole family. Bert returned to Missouri from the coast and both he and my grandfather died before my family returned. Bert died of a brain tumor on February 25, 1914, at the age of 35. Grandpa Horner was much older than my grandmother and was a veteran of the Civil War on the Northern Side. Private Co. E, Regiment Second Arkansas Cavalry, Union Army. Papa sold the mules and the wagon in San Francisco. While we were there, we stayed in a hotel and, one night, a rat bit Bill on the ear. I remember the incident. Mama often talked about how frightened she was. We went to Bonita, Arizona from the coast (California). While we were in the state of Arizona, we visited in Scottsdale and Wilcox. My Aunt Delia Talbert Stamps (sister to my father) lived in Arizona. She and her husband had been there since their marriage many years before. We arrived in Arizona in September 1914 to await the birth of another baby. I wasn't aware of this of course, but learned about it later. We lived in a duplex with a Morman and his two families. Mama said the two wives didn't get along very well. There was a mountain behind our home and one day I got lost. They found me quite a distance up that mountainside. My mother and my father whipped me good. My mother said mountain lions or wolves or bears could have eaten me up. I also got into a couple of other scrapes while there. I had an idea it would be nice to have bangs. Some other girl had some, so I sneaked the scissors and cut some bangs, for which I paid very dearly. Every time my mother turned her back, she would find me out back in a pile of scrapings from mine work. I would dig and make imaginary pies, cakes, etc. until she caught me, and I would be black with soot and chat. The big event here was the night Bonita was born, February 28, 1914. I was four years old and had gone to bed that night. My father came and told me to get up and go be with my mother as she needed me. He said she was sick and he had to go get the lady doctor. I went to her bed and stayed there until they came, which must have been quite some time. I remember Mama told me we had a little baby and I heard it, but I didn't quite grasp the situation. The next day my father brought a bunch of the inmates from the reform school where he was a guard to see our baby. Some of these girls had their heads shaved as punishment. They marched by in line with their uniforms and caps to see the baby which they said was "very beautiful", in Spanish "Bonita". Right away, my mother said she was going to name the baby Bonita. I ran all over the neighborhood announcing we had a new baby and, if they had any baby clothes, we sure needed them. I am sure Mama had made lots of baby clothes, but I had never seen her working on them. When we got ready to return home, we got to a railroad station somehow and boarded the train for home, Cassville, Missouri. We boarded the train in Arizona and I had never been on a train, so I was frightened. I ran in front of the train and down the tracks as fast as I could go, but my dad was right behind me. He grabbed me up and I got another wallop right then and there. I think I was very docile the rest of the time until we were back in good old Missouri again. When we returned to Missouri in April 1914, we brought the new baby which was a real surprise to all the relatives. Mama felt real well, and seemed to enjoy excellent health for several years after that. Chapter II LIFE IN THE OZARKS When we returned to Cassville, my father built a small shack, like an old fashioned smokehouse, in my Aunt Zuma's yard. This was for a temporary quarter until our new house in the north part of town was completed. I think this must have been quite an undertaking for my folks right after coming home from such a long trip. Mama told me that both she and Papa were converted and baptized when they were young but, as far as I know, they were not church members. Mama was raised in the Holiness Church and Papa in the Baptist Church. Upon returning, Papa went into law practice. He studied in the law office of Jake Davis. He was allowed to study his books and sit in on the cases and, for this privilege, he kept the office and library straight and clean, and the windows and spittoons clean. He could become a lawyer at that time by taking the Bar Examination and that is how he did it. His grades were very high. He also took penmanship lessons by correspondence. (Note: he used the little desk that I use for my computer to study). Our house consisted of two small bedrooms, living room, dining room, kitchen, and sleeping porch. The smallest room was Aunt Lizzie's (my father's aunt, or grandmother's sister), and the other one was for company or any of us if we happened to be ill. It also served as a parlor, a nice pretty room where no one loafed. The whole family slept on the back porch with curtains to partition off each bed. Our little shed had been moved out back to make a smokehouse. The living room was where we studied, visited, and dressed and undressed in the winter by the fire. We washed in a pan in the kitchen and, on Saturday, had our baths in the kitchen in a wash tub. Our toilet was in the back of the chicken lot and we used Sears Roebuck and Montgomery Ward Catalogs as paper. The washing was done on a board, and the irons were heated on the stove. We were more modern than some as we had two stoves, one to heat the front of the house, and the other to heat the back part of the house and to do the cooking. There were many who had only one fireplace on which to cook and heat the whole house. In most families, everyone slept in the one bedroom. Aunt Lizzie lived with us all of the time we lived in Cassville. She had lost her fiance in the Civil War and never married. She wrote many beautiful poems. In my first years at school in Cassville, I carried a little half-gallon bucket with my lunch in it. Holes had been driven in the lid to give a little air. We carried things like apples, fried pies, bacon or sausage sandwiches made of cold biscuits from breakfast, sometimes with jelly and butter on the biscuits. There were no fast food and no fresh fruits unless it was something that could be kept in the cellar as we had no refrigerators, ice boxes, electricity, inside plumbing, gas or telephones. My father did the mowing of the yard until Bill was old enough. He also helped Mama lay out the rows for the garden (a neighbor with a team plowed the land). Then the two of them (and sometimes Bill) put the garden in. From there on, it was Mama's. She loved her garden and kept it clean. She raised such a variety of things. Her new peas and potatoes were ready early in the season, and the fall days found her putting away dried peaches and apples, popcorn, peanuts, dried beans and dried peas. In the cellar, we had potatoes and apples and, in a hole out in the garden, we had turnips and sweet potatoes. Mama milked our cow every day (night and morning). She made the butter and ground the breakfast coffee. Papa put out a small orchard at this place and also a strawberry patch. He and Bill cut the wood for the stoves. I didn't talk plain until the first grade, when Miss Reese taught me. Aunt Zuma taught me in second grade (I understand that she caught me with candy in my pocket). I remember Aunt Zuma always supporting herself and her family. Her husband, Mr. Bloomer, died in 1904. In June 1917, there was a terrible tragedy. A very short train ran from Exeter to Cassville and the tracks ended right across the street from Aunt Zuma's house (next door to our house). One evening Zuma's children, LaVern and Willie, were studying at the dining room table and daughter, Ruth, was playing the piano. The train ran off the tracks and into their house and killed Ruth. Her body was laid out in our living room and I ran in on it and it truly frightened me. I adored Ruth and wanted to be just like her. I was sent hurriedly, when I was about seven years old, to my aunt's at Cassville to spend the night. My aunt asked me to explain why my parents sent me down there and I said, "Aunt Clara, I think they are going to have a baby because I saw the doctor hurrying up carrying a funny-looking kind of bag." Sure enough, when I got there the next morning, there was a pretty little girl baby. After a few weeks of indecision on the part of my parents in picking a name for this girl, they let me pick one out. I chose Christine Elizabeth, which was Aunt Lizzie Sallee's name (Papa's aunt). I never allowed a nickname for her; it was always "Christine." She was always my special pet, and I took care of her all the time I was at home. When she was a little over a year old, Mama gave us a little brother. He was born in January 1919 during the awful flu epidemic, and they didn't expect Mama to live, but both she and the baby lived through the flu. Mama was never as strong after that as she had been. I was asked to help my folks select a name for the little boy. Mama thought naming him for two uncles would be nice. We named him Thomas Lucien for Uncle Tom Talbert and Uncle Lucien Horner. We called him "Tom". Bill was so very proud of Tom. The day he was born, Bill carried me from my bed (I had the flu) to Mama's room to see him. When I was about seven years old, we got a telephone. I had never seen one and, when they came to install it, I was wide-eyed with wonder. As soon as the beautiful thing was installed on the wall high up by the front door, my mother was very anxious to try it. I guess they knew some people with phones, but I am sure there were not very many. I think our ring was a long and a short and to ring central you had to ring one long. One time Mama was pecked on a blood vessel on her wrist by a rooster. She held on to the injury while she had me get a doctor to come and take care of it. We had the rooster for Sunday dinner. When I was about 8 years old, Mama got a new washing machine. It worked by hand but, oh, how thrilled she was. You just had to stand and work the handle back and forth. Then you could wring the clothes through a wringer instead of wringing by hand - a great invention! Mama washed on Monday and ironed on Tuesday. She baked on Friday, and we loved to walk in from school on Fridays and smell that hot bread coming out of the oven. She made raisin cinnamon bread for us, and allowed us to eat it hot right then. What memories! We never bought bread; I don't suppose we could have. We bought nothing except flour, meal, sugar, salt, coffee, and probably spices and dry beans if we ran out. Our clothing such as underwear and overalls were ordered from the catalog. We all wore long underwear until the first of every year. Mama made all of our dresses, shirts, coats, etc. She knitted socks for all of us. There are things I recall as a child after we moved to our new home on North Main Street (1915-1919?) in Cassville that would seem strange to children now. I wore black, long stockings with high-topped black shoes with laces. My dresses were quite a bit below my knees, and my hair was combed with a fine-toothed comb every day before I went to school or Sunday school. On weekdays I wore it in two long tight braids with a piece of twine on the end of each. This was the way I dressed until I was nine years old when everything in my life changed. There is just one thing that did not change. Our father was the ultimate boss. His word was law, and we obeyed. We seldom got a whipping but, when we did, it was one to remember for a while. Mama only had to tell us if we didn't mind, for when we would get it when Papa got home. I still think that is a good way to handle it. If my folks ever had any trouble or arguments, we never heard them. I rode to Sunday school and church with a neighbor, John Waller and his wife and three children. He was Superintendent of the Baptist Sunday School, and drove a big surrey with a fringe on top drawn by two dark horses. I liked to get there early and sit on the big carpet and shine my pennies for the collection plate until they were bright. Papa was Prosecuting Attorney for two terms while we lived in the home we built in the north part of town (Smith and Hayes Addition), but I have no recollection of that campaign. However, I well remember when he bought a new Ford car and began his campaign for Circuit Judge. There were very few cars then - I had seen just one which our mail carrier was using on our route. One summer Bill drove and they campaigned for Circuit Judge all over several counties. Bill was very young, but there were no laws then about the age you should be. He broke his arm one evening cranking the car, and I worried a lot about that (I was afraid he would die). I kept up with many of the conversations at our house concerning politics, and I grew very excited about my father's campaign. I wore large campaign buttons - one bore the slogan, "Vote for Hughes, he's the man, if I can't vote my Daddy can." The other one said, "Woodrow Wilson, sitting on a fence, trying to make a dollar out of fifteen cents." I shouted the praises of all the Republicans round about, and sure thought I was playing a big part. Papa lost the election by 53 votes, and that year everything went Democrat, it was the Wilson landslide. After a few weeks, he announced he was leaving for a little while to go to Philadelphia to see about a new job. Chapter III ADVENTURES IN WASHINGTON Through the efforts of Uncle Rollin Talbert, Papa's brother, he obtained a job with the government. At that time, I believe he was with the Emergency Fleet Corporation. On his first trip to Philadelphia, he took only a briefcase for luggage. My aunt and uncle were amazed when he came with such scanty luggage. He told them he could go to a store and get what was needed. He didn't figure he had anything that would be good enough. Our trip from Missouri to Pennsylvania was quite exciting. We moved to Lansdown (a suburb of Philadelphia) June 1, 1919. I remember how they scurried around to get everything given away, sold or stored, and things packed for the trip. We took only our clothes. Mama cooked a lot of things for the trip and packed a lunch basket, and we ate from that. We had a roomette and a couple of beds in the sleeping car. I had charge of Christine and Mama had charge of the new baby, Tom. He rode on a pillow all the way, as it had not been long since both he and Mama had been through the ordeal of the flu. After a short time, we moved to new housing at Hog Island in Philadelphia. The streets there were all newly paved, and we spent our entire vacation on roller skates that year. Bonita noted that the skates were made from rubber tires. There were no sidewalks, so she circled around the porch that circled the house. There were very few cars at that time. We had a new, modern house with two stories. We had indoor plumbing, lights, a maid, and things which seemed luxurious to us. Mama bought her bread and many other supplies from the store, and a vegetable truck came by regularly with fruits and vegetables. The school children in Philadelphia made all manner of fun of me. They thought I was a real hillbilly, and I really was. I even talked differently. The teacher seemed to think it was a hopeless case, but I soon caught up with all the others, and remained at the head of my classes all through grade school. I especially enjoyed the state history and geography they insisted I learn about. I had never seen a black person before, and they were all about me here. There were also so many people of different origins, and it was very interesting to me. Homes in Washington D.C. area: 3 N. Spruce St., Clarendon, VA, May 1920 to November 1920; 1115 Euclid St., N.W., Washington, D.C., August 1921; Mt. Vernon Boulevard between Washington D.C. and Alexandria, Virginia, September 1921 to August 1924; 1112 Columbia Rd., Washington, D.C. , August 1924 to July 1, 1925; 1515 Newton Street N.W., Washington, D.C., July 1, 1925 to July 1, 1926, 3730 McKinley Street, Chevy Chase, MD, July 1, 1926 to September 15, 1926, Embassy Apts., 1613 Harvard St., N.W., Apt. 115, September 15, 1926 to January 1, 1927, Embassy Apts., Apt. 415, January 1, 1927 to August 17, 1927, (from Jim Talbert's notes). We moved to Clarendon, Virginia, May 1920. Clarendon was a suburb of Washington, D.C. This was a pretty place and quite a change from Philadelphia. The house was furnished, and I can remember a beautiful music box there. One of the neighbor ladies asked me if my mother was a widow - Papa went to work so early and got home so late. I am sure he either rode a bus or streetcar, but I can't remember. We decided to move back to Missouri as Papa expected his work with the government to be over soon. So Mama took us back to the place in town at Cassville near the spring in 1920. My dad took another appointment in Washington and we made the move back in 1921 and settled on Mt. Vernon Boulevard between Washington, D.C., and Alexandria, Virginia. This was a pretty old white frame house (furnished) with a very large front yard which Bill kept. There were many roses and flowers there. We lived there 3 years. All the different places we lived were in northwest Washington. Bonita wanted this story added to the Washington experiences. It must have been very traumatic for her because she wrote about these experiences twice. "I was going down the hall at school and decided not to have lunch there but go home instead. We were fixing sandwiches when everything started tinkling in the cabinet. An earthquake went down the east coast. Another time when I was about 13, I was going down the hall to lunch with my friend, Antoinette, and all of a sudden I said I was going home for lunch. I got home and went in the house and smelled gas. Mama was sitting at the sewing machine with her head down sleeping. The gas jet was on and I opened the door and turned it off." It fell my lot to do lots of babysitting for the family. We added another baby girl to the family in 1920. Mama let me choose her name, too, and I picked "Eleanor Jane." I knew a beautiful girl named Eleanor; she was my Aunt Dorothy Talbert's sister. Jane was the name of my grandmother Horner, so that became her name and she was the pet of the whole family. I still took special care of Christine but all the rest of the family gave Eleanor very special attention. Bill even went all out to keep the baby entertained. She was a beautiful baby. President Wilson was in very bad health at that time, and his wife and chauffeur brought him by our house every afternoon for a ride. It was about the time school was out, and my little sisters and brother, Bonita, Christine, Tom and Eleanor would stand out by the front fence and wave at them. Sometimes I would be with them and they were always watching for us. When I was 11, my father began teaching me to dance. We had a phonograph then, and we played the Japanese Sandman over and over again until I learned. He wanted to get me ready to go to some of the social functions he needed to attend. Mama didn't care for the social life. I was very happy to go, and we went many places. He was also good to all of us about taking us on hikes and playing games with us. He would take us on trail breaking trips in the snow and also sleigh riding. He also took us to all the important happenings in Washington; the dedication of the Lincoln Memorial, the burial of the first Unknown Soldier at Arlington Cemetery, and Ben Hur (the movie). He would often meet me at noon on Saturdays downtown and take me to a good show. Sometimes on Saturdays my Dad took me shopping. One time he bought me a fur hat that cost $5, and Mama though he was very extravagant and later, when I was a senior in high school he got me a fur coat. We saw our first radio when I was 11, the first one in our neighborhood in Virginia. At first we had one with earphones, but a little later we got one with a loud speaker. All of the neighbors came to see it. When we tired of that, there were many of our crowd who could play musical instruments. We had lots of fun there, and it seemed our place was the main gathering place for the whole neighborhood. Lots of pretty young girls visited me because I had such a good looking brother. Both Papa and Mama were anxious to have all my friends and Bill's at the house on Saturday nights. We would have a bunch come in and have popcorn, homemade candy, and play music and sing or listen to the radio. We had a Victrola and we would roll up the rugs in the living room and dance. One time I had a Halloween party and Mama made a beautiful Pirouette costume for me. When we got older we would go downtown to F Street. The girls (flappers) would see the boys (cake eaters) roaming around. After I learned to dance, Papa took me regularly to the Missouri State Society dances which were held once a month at the Willard Hotel. I knew several of these people as we all had the fact that we were from Missouri in common. One time General John J. Pershing was there, and I danced with him several times. I guess I was so lucky because he did not have a lady with him. We were quite well-acquainted with Joe Manlove and McPherson and their families because they lived in the same apartment building we inhabited in Washington at one time. After I was a little older, we were invited to two receptions at the White House. The invitations to these receptions were delivered to the individual homes by the White House car (invitations framed, M.J.K.). I met President and Mrs. Coolidge and President Harding. I danced at the receptions and, on one of the occasions, I danced with Mr. White, at that time Treasurer of the United States. In fact, he took me and my escort, Mrs. Pierce (a neighbor), home in his limousine. Papa always saw that we had the opportunity to see and hear things of importance. He would say, "This is history, and you can tell your grandchildren!" He took me to the Dedication of the Lincoln Memorial, and it was very inspiring to sit there on the lawn and listen to the great orators who spoke that day. I wish I could remember all of them. I think Booker T. Washington was one of them, and I am sure William Howard Taft was another. William Taft died while we still lived there, and his funeral was at a church about 2 blocks from our apartment. We also went to the burial of the first Unknown Soldier at Arlington Cemetery. We live just four miles from there and often hiked there on Sunday afternoons. That was a day I will never forget. Many of our friends rode in the procession to the amphitheater. There they sat in their big fine cars in their formal attire; Cabinet Members, Members of Congress and Senate, Judges, Kings, Queens, Princes-representatives of every country. One party riding in that bunch was a dignitary from Missouri, and he called my father the day before and asked him what to wear to such a shindig. My dad knew him but he did not wish to take part that day. This man was then Governor of Missouri. My father never did attend a reception at the White House. He only went to command performances. If the President wanted to see him, he was there, but he did not attend affairs that were too fancy if he could help it. When we went to dances at the hotel, he hated to wear a tux, said it made him feel like a monkey. He said his stiff collar almost cut his throat (I have some of his collars - M.J.K.) Mama seldom went out socially with Papa. One time she went to a cocktail party. She said it embarrassed her so much to accept the cocktail from the butler, and she had to empty it in the first plant she could find. In 1923, Bill and Papa went on a trip to Europe with a congressional committee to investigate German War Claims against the U.S. during World War I. Papa was counsel for the U.S. They were gone several weeks, having sailed on the Queen Mary. Bill was 17, and I could have gone but Mama said I was too young. Both Bill and Papa had to dress formal for dinner each night, and they sat at the Captain's table on the night of Papa's birthday (July). Bill said he had to keep Papa lined up so he wouldn't act too much like a hillbilly. That same night Papa thought he was using his napkin and instead pulled the tablecloth and dishes almost off the table. Bill was trying so hard to keep him from making any mistakes. Papa wanted Mama to go as Aunt Zuma (Papa's sister) promised to keep the children, but she didn't want to go. Bill was shown about by Talleulah Bankhead, a movie star and daughter of Senator Bankhead. When Bill was in high school we lived on Arlington Boulevard right where the Pentagon is now located. Bill graduated from high school while we lived there and entered the University of Missouri at 17. Sometimes we told him we would be glad when he went away to school because he teased us, but we began to miss him very much after he was gone two or three days. I attended Hume School in Virginia, and then went one year to Junior High at the George Mason School in Alexandria, Virginia. This was held in the old George Mason Mansion which was later restored and made into a museum. We had many visitors from Missouri while we live in Washington, and it often fell my lot to show them around. This was after I was 14 or 15 years old. Mt. Vernon was not far from where we lived, and we made many trips. Of course, everyone wanted to see the White House, Capitol and Smithsonian Institute. One time the Barnum and Bailey Circus was in Washington and Papa knew some of the midgets from Cassville (the Smiths). They gave us free passes to the whole thing, and we were treated royally. Papa also gave Mr. and Mrs. Smith a personal tour of Washington. All of our traveling those days was done on a bus, streetcar, or taxi. Papa never took his car to work. After Bill was old enough to drive, he took the car to school as it was quite a distance to the high school from out in the country in Virginia where we lived. We moved into the city when I started to high school and Bill was then attending college at the University of Missouri. We sold our Ford car when we left Missouri, and bought a fine Hudson Super Six in 1923. Bonita says it was a touring car (one of the nicest on the road), and she remembers seeing oxen pulling their carts on the highway. This was a 7 passenger auto. There were two little jump seats that could be raised out of the floor between the front and back seats, and on Sunday afternoons we often took a ride. We would ride over to Arlington Cemetery or down the Boulevard in front of our home towards Alexandria. I think we lived halfway between Washington and Alexandria. Mt. Vernon, George Washington's home, was not very far, and we always loved to go there. We made 2 trips back to Missouri in the Hudson. We camped out some and other times stopped at tourist homes where people kept us overnight. There were no motels in those days. One time there were floods so we spent one night in a vacant grocery store. One time we were on a fishing trip with the Horners at White River and heard about Warren Harding's death. Papa made several memorial speeches, one at a 4th of July picnic at Seligman, Missouri. William Jennings Bryan died while we lived in Washington (1925) and I went to the church to see his body. There were thousands of people filing by his casket. During the time we lived in Virginia, both Bonita and I received gold medals for two years for highest grades in our rooms. Our schoolrooms consisted of two grades each and, of course, our parents were very proud of us. Papa gave us $5 gold pieces for winning the medals. How we wish we had those $5 pieces now. I went to a big high school. I was really scared and afraid I would get lost, but it didn't take long to find my way around. In my second or third year I joined a little sorority and was instrumental in getting it nationalized. In my last year, I was President of that organization, Alpha Theta Chi. I had a beautiful little pin which I lost one day when trying on dresses in a shop. Early on Saturday mornings, Mama would have Bill take her to the outdoor market where she would buy her provisions for the week. Bonita usually went along so we wouldn't fight. All the rest of the children would mind me, and I liked to keep them. They usually got home in time for me to plan something for Saturday afternoon, maybe a show with Papa downtown on 14th Street, or with girlfriends to a Chinese restaurant (one of my favorite things to do). Lunch was 35 cents, show-25 cents, bus fare-5 cents, 1 pound of candy-20 cents (this was the total for 3 people). One time I made that trip to the market, and it was quite a sight to see. It smelled like fish and shrimp, crabs, oysters, etc. Also you could see chickens, rabbits, geese, and all sorts of things hanging on display. They had beef, pork and lamb too, but they were cut more like they are today and piled in trays. They had all the fresh fruits and vegetables on display, too. You can imagine how much Mama had to buy to keep a family of eight going for a week. Those shopping sprees are very vivid in Bonita's memory, and she still talks about them. Bonita also enjoyed going to the 10 cent store with Mama. Mama was always very careful about our health. We didn't see the doctor often, but she took care of us very well. Any sickness called for castor oil. If we were sick enough to be in bed, we got special food such as home canned grape juice or home canned fruits, milk toast, poached eggs, and custards. Charles Lindberg flew his airplane across the ocean when I was about 16 years old. The papers called him "crazy" before he completed his flight and said he was a "flying fool". I was so thrilled to see him in person when he returned to the states, and he rode down 16th Street near our home. This hadn't been much publicized so there was only a small crowd out to see him. He was so young, and had such a big grin on his face. I was thrilled beyond measure. Bonita says that another memory that stayed with her was a time when gypsies came to the house and saw the children. They wanted to buy Eleanor or Bonita. About that time Fannie came in and Mama told her to get the children inside. Chapter IV THE END OF A MAGICAL TIME Our sorority had lots of teas, dances and all kinds of parties. I could take the young man of my choice to those entertainments as well as to those at the school. When I was 16, I went on a Sunday evening to a young peoples' get-together at a church. It was there that I met Jimmie Doane, a young man of 21 who had just come to Washington to work and he was rooming with a friend of mine. From that time on, the glamorous life I had been leading became less important to me. While I continued to go about with my father and the sons of his friends and keep up with things at school, the one and only thing that really counted was this Jimmie Doane from Leighton, Alabama. I managed to see him every Sunday afternoon and sometimes on Friday or Saturday nights. I could never stay out past 10:30 p.m. Strange as it may seem, even though Washington was full of speakeasies and hidden bars, I never went with a young man who drank bootleg liquor or had any on his breath. I found there was more of that in Missouri than I had seen in Washington. Jimmie was polite and courteous and brought me flowers and courted me in a grand manner. He waited for me two years (we had agreed from the beginning that we would be married). The home on Newton Street was the nicest one we ever lived in while we were in the east. It was almost like a mansion with a great entranceway with a beautiful staircase and mirrors covering many of the walls. There were crystal chandeliers in the hall, dining room and living room. There were many bedrooms (some with balconies), several bathrooms, a maid's room, and a large garage with servants' quarters over the garage. The furniture in that house was beautiful and, it was at this time, Mama bought nice white linens for the table, silver, and blue willow dishes (England) (note: blue willow pieces were divided between Frances and myself when Fannie died). Mama and I did quite a bit of entertaining. The dining room was beautiful, and my training at school was giving me the know how for proper table setting and serving. The floors were covered with oriental rugs. Mama reigned over the kitchen. Bonita and I cleaned on Saturday mornings, and we had a maid all day on Fridays who cleaned the kitchen, bathrooms, and porches. My father and mother both liked Jimmie Doane very much, but they wanted me to have a college education so I would be prepared to make a living if it were necessary. When we pressed them to let us marry, they finally agreed and, since Mama was in Missouri, Papa and my good friend, Evelyn Jones, stood up with us. We were married in the parsonage of an Episcopal minister, Rev. Dr. Dudley. This parsonage was the same house where we had previously lived at 1515 Newton Street, and we were married in the beautiful ballroom. My parents were very helpful. Papa gave us an apartment and furniture for four months until after my graduation from high school. We were blissfully happy, and I felt that all my dreams were answered. Later on, we moved to a lovely little cabin at Cabin John, Maryland, which was loaned to us by one of my teachers, a Mr. Claghorn. We lived there while he and his wife went abroad on a vacation. After living there through the summer months, we moved back to Washington and rented a little apartment. This is where we lived when our sweet baby, Frances, was born. I idolized my father. I was always sorry the younger children didn't get to know him as well as I. He was never too tired to play a game with us such as checkers or Old Maid, or go biking or sledding or just playing in the snow. This was not just for us, but for all the neighborhood children, too. Sometimes he would get an apple (guess he didn't have a ball) and he would lean over and see if we could hit him on the bottom. Papa's resignation from the Emergency Fleet Corporation and the General Counsel to the Shipping Board was turned down time after time. I believe he resigned three times. They finally offered him a job as Special Assistant to the Attorney General with a large increase in salary, and he agreed to take it for one year. Mama went back to Cassville at different times when he resigned, but then returned to Washington. It was hard on the children and all of us. We didn't know when we would all be settled down together again. Papa usually stayed with Jimmie and I when Mama would be back in Missouri, and the pressure of his work would worry him even when he was asleep. It caused me considerable worry. Somehow, I had a premonition of doom. Mama said she was worrying, too. She was working and redecorating a home in Cassville with her brother and his wife. She was not well and was unable to do her work at that time, so she came back to Washington. Since my mother was so frail, Papa rented a larger apartment, and we all stayed together. I was able to do all the work, and we sent a large part of the laundry out to be done. We got along this way until we all caught the flu. Papa and Jimmie were the only ones who were not ill and, on a Saturday morning, Papa stayed at home to help me as I had pneumonia. He ran the dust mop and fixed canned soup for our lunch and then went to bed with a headache. He immediately became unconscious. I was able to get his doctor, but he was very drunk when he got there and I got rid of him quickly. I then called the house doctor for the apartment. He said Papa was very ill, and I should get him to a hospital. I ran through the phone book and found a heart specialist, and he agreed to send an ambulance and meet it at the hospital. Papa's illness was ruled flu/meningitis. It was not contagious. Papa died after seven hours of being ill, and Mama had a severe heart attack upon learning of his death. She was with him at the hospital. My husband was around that evening to help, or I don't know how I could have managed as I was so ill. We got word to Bill and Bonita in Missouri, to Uncle Rollie Talbert and cousin Lavern Bloomer in New York and other close relatives. Uncle Rollie and Lavern came down and helped out. Mama couldn't leave for three days because of her condition, so they spent those three days getting ready to move the family and Papa's body back to Missouri. My job was to try to get well, and that was hard then with so much illness and grief around me. We found a Phillipino butler who was a student at Georgetown University to come and stay with me through the day and take care of Frances who was then two years old. He was a very good cook and kept the house spotless. He was with us for two weeks after all the folks left. Soon after that, I left for Missouri to try to help my mother as her heart condition was still very serious. Frances and I stayed with Mama for one month. She gradually got strong enough to manage her own work, but she had a good and faithful friend, a neighbor, that she hired to help with the work. She was never very strong again, but she led a busy life with her children, her garden and her yard. She was never idle for a minute, but she didn't go anywhere unless it was necessary. She dressed in good taste, was clean and neat, but she wore very little powder and never anything showy or gaudy. She said she was never going to look at a man again, and I am sure she never did. I went back to my husband in a month, and could hardly wait to get there. He told me on my arrival that he had fallen in love with a girl who worked in his office. He wanted a divorce. I refused, telling him he would get over it because he knew he belonged only to his little girl and me. He tried to be real nice about it, and my only reaction was to cry about it all the time. I didn't tell anyone about it for a year and a half, just hoping he would get over it. During that year, he would get home from work, dress up and go out with his girlfriend. He did this two or three times a week. At the end of that year and a half, I called a dear friend of my father's, a lawyer, and I asked him to come by and see me. His was Mr. E. N. Meador from Cassville and, at that time, Assistant Secretary of Agriculture. I asked him what I should do as I had decided that I would have to leave Jimmie. He told me to have Jimmie go to a lawyer with me and take the blame and agree to pay child support, and then I would be free to go home to Missouri. I had just written my mother, and she had wired me to come home if I wished and stay as long as I liked. This was the worst thing that ever happened to me in my whole life. I felt so bad about getting a divorce, and especially because I loved Jimmie so much, but I could not stand it any longer. He had become neglectful, cross and abusive and never went anywhere with us. At this time, I was 23 years old. Now I was to begin my life again in Cassville, Missouri, a little town of 1200 people. It sure looked small to me after 12 years in a big city. Mama wanted me to try to get some schooling so I could get a decent job, and I decided to use my child support money to take a full course at Draughan's Business College in Springfield, a distance of about 70 miles from Cassville. Mama kept Frances, and I started to school in September. While Frances lived with my mother and I went to school, they became very attached to each other. Frances was at her heels all the time. She helped her grandmother take care of the garden and the yard, and even helped in the household chores. I tried to save enough money from my $50.00 a month child support check to catch a bus home every three weeks for the weekend and, at that time, I would try to catch up with Frances' needs. I also paid my rent, tuition, books, fees, and groceries in Springfield. A store owner usually kept me supplied with food that was old or wilted and I bought day old bread. When I came home, I always had ironing to do. That was in the day of Shirley Temple dresses, and Frances had many of them given to her by her Alabama relatives. They were something to iron but it was fun. My sisters loved Frances just like a little sister, and they were very good to her. Tom, my brother, loved to tease her, and they had a lot of fun, too. I went to school for about 20 months, and became somewhat adept at typing, shorthand and other business skills. I felt I was ready for a job, and I wanted to work in Washington. This was probably a mistake, because I found no glamour there at all. Making a living for myself and my baby and paying a baby sitter and being along all the time was no fun. I allowed Jimmie to come over and take Frances with him a few times on Sunday. He had married the girl who had bewitched him. Frances always said she was nice to her. I first worked for some lawyers and later for the telephone company, but finally got on at the steno pool at the Capitol Building. The work there was more interesting. I was called first by one Senator and then another and, as they got acquainted with me, they would ask for me again and again. I am sure I could have made a success there, but I was getting urgent letters from home. Chapter V HUGH AND THE DAIRY I had been going with a grocery man, Hugh Montgomery, and he kept writing me to come back to Cassville and marry him. I decided that would really be the best thing I could do, and he really was a great person, tall, handsome, a good dancer, witty and a lot of fun. He was a widower with four children who were practically grown. I wired him to meet us, and we returned the first part of October of 1934 and were married very soon afterward. When I first returned to Missouri, Mama put me in as manager of the Talbert Dairy. This was started by my older brother, Bill, and, when he and his wife and little boy, Jimmie, moved to Columbia so that Bill could work on his master's degree, Mama took it over. She was still quite frail and she wanted to hire me to run it for her. I did this for a while and then Mama decided to move to Columbia with Christine, Tom and Eleanor so that they could all attend college. At that time, Hugh and I leased the dairy from Mama, and it turned out to be quite a success. We had an opportunity to furnish milk to several CCC Camps if we had a homogenizer, so we bought one and enlarged our herd of cattle, built a larger milk house, and a large boiler and capping machine and got ready for some real business. We had this business for 6 years, quite a few months after my mother's death. We continued to lease it from the estate until the CCC camps closed. At one time, we furnished 5 CCC camps. During these years we were very happy and very busy. Hugh became unhappy with his partnership grocery business and sold his half interest. For a time he worked as a timekeeper for the WPA. This was a good job, and he was working there when the new hotel at Roaring River was built. After that, he worked at the dairy, and there was always plenty to do. We hired several men and boys. We also had many relatives with us; Jim Marcum (Hugh's sister, Kathryn's son), and Ralph Schildknect (Hugh's sister, Jennie's son). My stepchildren lived with us at different times (Margaret, Alleen, Robert, and Helen, Hugh's children), and also my brothers and sisters. Hugh's brother, Alton, lived with us a long time (until he had to go into the Army), and he was a wonderful help. A young man, Harry, who was an orphan also worked until he went into the Army. Mama moved back to a little house in Cassville with her three younger children while we were still running the dairy. She had been there a couple of years when she began to get very weak with her bad heart. She was in a Kansas City hospital for a while, and then she moved in with us as she could not take care of herself. She was with us about a month before she died in 1940. She was only 59 years old, and we could hardly face the loss, but God was good not to let her suffer any longer. Tom was going to the University of Arkansas at the time, Bill was working as a county agent in Kentucky, Bonita was living with her husband in Arizona, and Christine had married Charles Pearl and was still at home making arrangements to be with her husband who was in college in Texas. Eleanor was to stay with us until she got some plans made. Later, she took nurse's training in a hospital in St. Louis. During this time, Hugh became involved in Wendell Wilkie's campaign for President of the United States. Wilkie was running against Franklin Roosevelt and our friend, George Dwight from New York, urged both of us to get involved in the campaign. This was probably the only Republican Hugh ever voted for. I was Republican and Hugh was a Democrat. Hugh, Frances and I joined the Methodist Church when Frances was 11. Hugh had previously been a Presbyterian. A wonderful event happened while we lived at the dairy house. The baby that Frances begged for finally arrived, six years after Hugh and I married. She was a cute baby, all Montgomery, I could not tell she had any Talbert in her. We called her Mary Jane after Dr. Mary Northcutt Newman, her Aunt Mary, and Grandma Horner. She was always a great pet of her Daddy's, and the whole family. Uncle Alton was very surprised. He didn't know a baby was expected. Frances was 12 years old at the time, almost a young lady. Chapter VI WASHBURN PRAIRIE We gave up the dairy in November 1940 when the CCC camps closed. We sold the milk equipment to a firm in Kentucky. We moved to Joplin and Hugh went to work for the Jayhawk Ordinance Plant in Kansas, near Fort Crowder in Neosho, Missouri. We stayed only a few months as Mary Jane, our baby, became quite ill. The doctor said we had improper heat in our apartment, and we couldn't find another place to live. She was very ill for a long time, but she finally got better. We moved to an old farmhouse at Washburn, a little town near Cassville. We bought a 240-acre farm there while we had the dairy, and we decided to move there. A friend of ours had been living there with his family and taking care of the cows and the farm work. This was quite another change for us. We had signed up for electricity, but Pearl Harbor had happened and war was on, and we did without electricity and many other things. However, we had a wonderful time there. We had bean patches, tomato patches, a wonderful garden, all the eggs, meat, blackberries, milk, canned things, cured ham, chickens, and almost everything we could wish for. My electric stove, radios, refrigerators, and other things just sat there and looked pretty. On special occasions we bought ice in town. One time when Mary Jane was about two, Hugh was watching the pressure cooker in the kitchen when it blew up. He was burned very badly on the leg. Mary Jane was in the kitchen at the time and she was hysterical. She cannot be around pressure cookers to this day. After three years on the farm, we bought a nice house in the town of Washburn, four miles from our farm. I went to work as manager of the school lunch room. I set up the first school lunch program in our county (with one helper). We fed about 300 children daily (about half of them free). The meal at that time was 10 cents. I made $2.00 per day at the school, and then I made $3.00 the last year. I worked from 8 a.m. until 2 p.m. five days a week, and all day Saturday making my reports and gathering in supplies for the coming week. I furnished my own car and gasoline. Hugh continued to go back and forth to the farm to take care of the crops and the cows. He had his son-in-law, Gay Watson, as a partner in the chicken business and, at two different times, they had 1800 chickens. Whatever they did during the war, it was hard sailing, no one was making much money. Frances wasn't too thrilled with school at Washburn, and I let her spend one semester with Bonita who had remarried Lt. F. R. Doane and was living in Albuquerque. Then she spent her last year of high school at Christine's in Cassville. She graduated from the Cassville High School, and helped Christine with her boys. I believe all four boys were born before Frances graduated. Christine's husband, Chick, had to go to service (Navy). When Frances graduated, she asked us to invite her Daddy to come to the graduation. Hugh was very kind to him, and he stayed with us. There were no motels in those days, and there was not much else to do. Jimmie told me he was breaking up with his wife, and I told him I was very happy with my husband and my life in general. It did me some measure of good to let him know I hadn't made a failure the second time around. Frances went home with her Daddy as she had decided to go to college in Alabama. We were in no position to offer her the chance to go to college. She became engaged to a young man from Justinville, Alabama, a suburb of Decatur. She married him February 14, 1947. He was a fine man, and we liked him very much. About a year and a half before we left Washburn, I ran for public office in Barry County, but would have won if a wounded veteran had not entered the race at the last minute. Hugh planted the first fescue in Barry County. He sowed it on his from his home at Washburn. This was in the 1940s and was shipped from Hopkinsville, Kentucky, by his brother-in-law, Bill Talbert. It cost $40.00 and turned out to be a "miracle worker" for many farmers who had just survived the "terrible thirties". Chapter VII HUGH'S ILLNESS About 1948 we moved to Cassville as we were offered what we thought was a good price for both our farm and our home in Washburn. We had paid $4,500 for our home in Washburn and $3,800 for our home and farm. Now, the two properties would be worth many thousands of dollars. We received $17,000 for all of it. We stayed in Cassville in an apartment for a short time as we were looking for a place of our own. I started to work for the Stanley Home Products Company and was doing very well. We decided to move to Monett as I had a pretty good business going up there with my products. We rented a house and planned to move the following week. One day while I was out, Hugh and Mary Jane went to see the doctor as Hugh decided he didn't feel very well. The doctor happened to be his son-in-law, "Doc McDaniel", and he told Hugh he should go to have a good physical checkup. Doc called me and told me to come by and see him without Hugh, and he told me Hugh seemed to be in rather serious trouble with his heart, and I should take him to Springfield at once. The next day I took him, but he had a heart attack on the way and I had to stop and call an ambulance. His attack was quite serious, and he had several more. He was in the hospital several weeks, and I moved to Monett while he was in the hospital. Frances and J. L. came to see him, and times were pretty hectic. Our neighbors in Monett were wonderful, and Hugh had a brother and sister there, too. I had to keep on with my work. When I was away from home, I hired someone to stay with Hugh and Mary Jane. After about two months, at Hugh's insistence, I bought a home in Monett (602 Lincoln) next door to Hugh's sister and I held on to that property for about 30 years. Hugh was an invalid for about 5 months and, after that, it was quite some time before he could work. He took care of Mary Jane while I worked (he was the center of my universe!) He learned to cook some real good things by studying my cookbooks. He picked plums in the back yard and made jelly, and he learned to make good hot rolls. He just had to keep busy, even if he couldn't work hard. There was a little grocery store with our property, and we rented that to help with the bills. We later converted the house into two apartments so we could have the rent from the other side of the house. Also, later we made the garage into a laundromat. Mary Jane loved the city. She enjoyed the country so much, and I was really surprised at the way she took to this town of 6000 or 7000 people. She enjoyed the neighborhood children, her Pearl cousins, Mary Lou (Eleanor's daughter), and Connie Meador (Aunt Lucy's granddaughter) and made many friends. She was in the second grade when we moved there. She joined the Brownies, the Junior Garden Club, and went to everything in town that was free. She learned to swim (at Hugh's insistence, he threatened to throw her in the deep end), and went to the pool every day in the summer. I was glad she became very interested in Sunday school and the Methodist Church. When we moved to Monett, we changed our membership to the First Methodist Church there. Hugh knew he wouldn't live long, and the doctor told me he could live as much as 4 to 5 years. He often talked about it, and he only worried about Mary Jane and me. He said he had wished so much to live to see her graduate from high school, but he didn't expect to now. He wanted me to try to find someone who would be good to us and get married again. He said he never expected to be as happy as he was with us. I did not make any promises. I told him not to worry; I would try not to make too many mistakes and would do the very best I could if something happened to him. We just tried to make the most of each day, and he finally got well enough to help make the living. At first, he ran our little self-service laundry, and we did quite well with it. He would put the money from the ladies each day in a little jar and use it for the groceries, and he made enough to keep us well fed. I had been out a great deal of money on doctors and medicine for him, but I always acted like it was less than it was. He just let me handle it, and I was able to keep a lot of worry from him. Hugh later got a job in a store in Cassville, and was working the cash register up until he died on my birthday, February 22, 1952. We had 18 wonderful years together, and I felt like I was just cut in two. I had been ill with pneumonia and flu for a month and 10 days, and that made it even worse. Frances and J.L. came and took charge, and my neighbors and friends were wonderful. Mary Jane was 11 years old. Chapter VIII NICK Several months later, I was introduced to a Monett barber, Nick Humy. His wife had died shortly after Hugh died, and he was a member of my church. He was highly respected and was the owner of his shop and other property in Monett. He was very eager to go with me, and I thought of the many times Hugh had told me to try to find someone else. However, I really had not thought I would ever find anyone, and this man was so different. He was born in Russia, and had come to the United States when he was 16. He was truly a self-made man. He had been a Sergeant in the First World War, and acted rather like a Sergeant. I was working in a drug store and really enjoyed the work there although I got very tired. The hours were long and, one time, I figured up my hourly pay. It was less than 60 cents. We had to take turns keeping the store open until 9 at night and all day every third Sunday. Nick thought a lot of Mary Jane and asked her if we could marry. I guess she gave her permission and, after going together for about 10 months, we were married in the Methodist Church with Christine and Chick and a few friends in attendance. Mary Jane stayed with Christine and her family while we went on a short honeymoon trip. We returned to live in Nick's House at 514 Frisco (two blocks from our home). I rented the store and the 2 apartments. After I became Mrs. Humy, I did not have to go to work. I worked hard, however, as I was expected to keep a very clean and orderly house, have three meals on time, and always ready to go on a fishing trip at a moment's notice. There was never a lack of money and that was a big change for me. We certainly didn't waste anything, but life was just very easy. I found it a little difficult at times to get used to a man who had been raised in a foreign country, but he was every bit a fine, honest and upright man and a very fine Christian. Both Mary Jane and I learned a lot from him. The year after we were married he was installed as President of the Kiwanis Club, and we made a lot of nice trips. I heard him make one speech about patriotism, and I never heard a better speech. He also took us on a few very interesting trips, and we made one trip to Alabama to see Frances and J. L. He liked Frances and her family very much. On March 1, 1956, Nick, Mary Jane and I went to the opening of trout season near Cassville at Roaring River. Nick had a good day, caught his limit of fish, and we came home about 4 p.m. We dressed the fish, and ten minutes later Nick was dead from a heart attack. Mary Jane was on the phone calling Dr. Donley, and I took the receiver and told the doctor I thought it was too late. The doctor was one of Nick's best friends, and he was there in just a few minutes, but it was too late. Mary Jane and I had quite a time getting over the shock. Frances and J. L. could not come because the birth of their son, James, was in mid-March. Such disagreeable things happened with his family, and I was again high and dry and looking for a job. I cannot go into this black part of my life. (Mama, however, was best friends with Nick's sister-in-law, Helen Hawkins, and they were best friends until the day Mama died.) All I knew was that I had to get better quick and on my feet again. I got a little insurance and the furniture and an old card and a small annuity. The rest was left to an only son. I lived in the house for 10 years before I gave it up to get married again, but I still had my place. About a month after Nick's death, I started working in a wallpaper, paint and gift shop in downtown Monett. The pay was 50 cents per hour. (Note from Mary Jane: It was during this time that I was just crazy about records (45s) and record players. I did not dare ask for a record player because I knew Mama did not have the money. Every day after school I would go to the record shop to "browse". One day Mama came strolling in. I could not imagine what she was doing there, but she burst into tears. And suddenly I knew, she was coming in and paying a dollar weekly to purchase my little red record player.) I worked at the paint store until I could make up my mind what I should do to make a living. I was offered a better job selling electrical appliances and furniture, and I held that job for several months. In the back of my head, I had a plan to see if I could go back to school and freshen up on my business education. I found out my lifetime scholarship at Draughan's was still in effect, so I started driving to Springfield 5 days a week and attending classes in shorthand and typing. I was really green, and it was very hard at first but, in seven weeks, I was good enough to be recommended by the school for a very nice position at The School of the Ozarks at Point Lookout, Missouri. Chapter IX THE SCHOOL OF THE OZARKS I knew nothing about The School of the Ozarks, but Mary Jane and I went to see about it. The position was private secretary to the President Emeritus of the school, Dr. R. M. Good. There seemed to be no question in his mind or in the mind of the President, they wanted me to take the job, and the sooner the better. I asked for three or four days to get ready. The school was 72 miles from Monett, and I was to receive $240.00 a month and room and board. Mary Jane was to come and live with me or in a dormitory and attend school. There would be no charge for her schooling. It seemed like a dream come true. I started to work in February, but I left Mary Jane at home with a lady to stay with her until she finished her junior years of high school, and I drove home every Saturday. As soon as school was out, she moved in with me, but she later moved to the dorm as she wanted to be with the other girls. This was the best job I ever had, and Dr. Good was a joy to know and be associated with. I worked for him over 4 and 1/2 years. Chapter X WIDOWHOOD Mary Jane graduated from high school at The School of the Ozarks and attended 1 year of college and she married George King. They had a big wedding at The School of the Ozarks in the new chapel. Frances and her family could not attend because Frances was expecting Kent and the doctor would not let her travel. The four and a half years passed quickly. I worked very hard, but felt needed and wanted and learned a lot. I made many wonderful friends, and I enjoyed all my weekly trips back to Monett. I admit I got a little weary of only lady friends and the loneliness of evenings alone. I bought a television, and played cards whenever I had a chance (Mama was a wonderful Bridge player, everyone wanted her for a partner) but I can't say too much for the ten years of being a widow. I did not, however, moan over the fact as I had more than my share of happiness, and decided to make the most of it. On my vacations, I usually went to Alabama or Albuquerque, and I had a lot of fun. Frances and J. L. had two girls and 2 boys. J.L. had established a nice dental practice and they had a beautiful home. After Mary Jane married, they moved to St. Louis and I loved driving up there. Marcy was born in 1960 and Lisa in 1962. One time I went to see my brother, Tom, in Slaton, Texas. He was now a doctor, and I was so proud of him. The summer I resigned my position at The School of the Ozarks, I accepted a position as secretary to the Superintendent of Schools at Monett. I was tired of so much driving, and I thought the job would be easier for me. In the summer, the hours would be shorter and my vacation longer. The pay was more, too. I was promised girls to help in the office, an auditor to check my books once a month and help me if I needed it, and it all looked good to me. However, I hated the job, and it nearly worried me crazy. I worked several months, and then quit with the notice that I could not stand even one more day of it. I had been given none of the promised help, and I could not possibly keep up. The machines were antiquated, and most of the Board and teachers were rude to me. It was the exact opposite of S of O. I got a terrible inferiority complex before I had the nerve to quit. I think they found out later that it took several girls and much new equipment to handle that office. After leaving the high school in Monett, I worked for a time at the Cassville hospital as secretary. This I did not care for as some of the people were so rude to me, and I quite after about 3 or 4 months. I guess I was spoiled, but often thought of my father and how he would advise me under those circumstances. I needed a job badly, but I was not willing to lick any shoes for the privilege of working for them. I broke my arm in 1961 and had to give up a good position in Springfield as secretary for a big Baptist Church. I was to start the very next day after I broke my arm. I had rented an apartment in Springfield, so I had a friend take me there. My good friend, Virginia Teel, looked after me until I could take care of myself. After I got back to Monett, I had the sad news of the death of my little brother, Tom. He died very suddenly from a heart attack at the age of 43. Christine and Eleanor went with me to the funeral and we met Bonita and Bob there. I never expected to give up my little brother. In the summer of 1961 I was very ill with acute bronchitis and coughed for 13 weeks. There was no thought of working then but, when I got a little better, I was offered a position with Mr. E. W. Pfau, an old gentleman who lived near me. I had known his son-in-law when we lived in Washington, and his parents were my parents' friends. I went to work for Mr. Pfau in July 1961 and worked for 11 years. In October of 1961, I had a serious accident with my car and I suffered a brain concussion and a severe hip injury. It seemed hard luck was following me, but I felt lucky to be alive. Mr. Pfau's work was interesting and difficult. He could hardly see or hear, and he had a great amount of bookkeeping to do. I wrote his letters and drove him to town to shop or have a meal out, or to look over his various properties, or property he was going to make a loan on. I also prepared his lunch and dinner. He was always a perfect gentleman and liked all of my friends. He hired a lady to keep the house clean. We often went to visit his daughter and family in Joplin, and we would have dinner and drive around, but we always had to be on the way home by 4 p.m. We got about quite a lot until he became too feeble. I also had to learn how to work crossword puzzles, and he was a whiz on them. Chapter XI THE LATER YEARS In 1965 we had grim news from Kentucky. My brother, Bill, died suddenly of a heart attack at age 59. This was so very hard to get through. Christine and I took Mrs. Lewis and Mrs. Smith to Kentucky with us and Bonita met us there. Bonita rode back with us. I met a nice gentleman in 1965, Perry Pierce, and we began going together. I had never dreamed of another marriage, but here I was getting interested in another man. He was 13 years my senior, a retired minister and farmer and, as I said before, I was very lonely in spite of two daughters, two sons-in-law, and six grandchildren. I had been a widow for 10 years. We were married the next year, 1966, in the Methodist Church Chapel. Frances and her children were with us and Sue Bridges stood up with us. We didn't have a honeymoon trip. Mr. Pfau could not spare me. Perry was good for me. He loved going places and helping me with my work for Mr. Pfau. For a while after we married, he worked as a nurse at a rest home in Monett. He loved that work because he liked to help people, but it was very hard on him. After about two years, I persuaded him to quit and, even after that, he took several private cases. I managed to be ill and get in trouble enough to keep him pretty busy. In 1967, I broke my leg and I did not even go to the hospital because I had a nurse right at home, and I worked all but two days with that cast on. My two granddaughters in St. Louis stayed the summers with us, and we took care of them even though I continued to work. Mary Jane and George came down as often as they could on weekends. We had a lot of fun with them. Perry really took care of the girls more than I did, as I still worked for Mr. Pfau. There was never a dull moment with Marcy and Lisa around. We took them everywhere we went. Once we took them on a little vacation to North Missouri to visit Perry's sister, Bess, and her husband. Perry lived with me in the Humy home while we worked over my old home on Lincoln Street. I had rented out the two apartments and the store. Now, we had the store converted into a house as the grocery store was closing and we tore out the partitions and put the house into just one residence. It looked real nice, and we were proud of it. We had many years there and lots of good times. Since my house was large, it seemed we were always having company and parties. I just loved it, and Perry was very good to me. My relatives all liked him, and my grandchildren all think of him as their "Grandpa Perry". I had several opportunities to go back to The School of the Ozarks to work, but I promised Mr. Pfau I would never leave him. I sometimes wished I had not made that promise, but he gave me a few raises and was very good to me and treated me like I was a real lady. It was pleasant most of the time, and I thought so much of his daughter, Marjorie, who was always doing nice things for me. Mr. Pfau died at age 97 in 1974 and I cared for him until then. He spent almost two years in a rest home, but I continued to work for him. In 1969 my brother-in-law, Chick Pearl, died. He had a long illness, and Perry and I were so hurt by his going. Perry had helped to care for him at the last, and I was grieving for my sister. I had hoped it would not happen to her for a long, long time because I knew so well what it was like. In 1970 Mary Jane and George decided to move to Branson and George would finish college at The School of the Ozarks. They obtained employment and George graduated from the school and also got his master's degree in Springfield. We were very happy for them, and the girls adjusted nicely. In 1977 a beautiful son, David, was born and he is a great delight to the whole family. My family in Alabama has also been multiplying. James graduated from the University of Alabama, and Kent is attending college. Linda married Rick Kim and they have a fine home in Atlanta. Wanda is a school teacher and she and her husband, Clark, have three fine daughters; Tina, Becky and Cindy. I am very proud of all my family. For several years Bonita, Bob, Christine, Perry and I have been enjoying trips together. The five of us went in our car to Seattle to visit Eleanor and her family. She and Toney are parents of 11 children, and we don't see them very often as they live so far away. We had such a good time that summer, and we also made a trip to Gulf Shores, Alabama, in our car. The next year we went in Bonita and Bob's new car to Gulf Shores. Frances and her family had a place at the beach. In 1979 Hurricane Frederick took their little beach home and all their furnishings out to the swamp. The five of us also made a trip to Kansas City and, whenever we can, we all go places together. I guess we are more congenial than most groups of five could be. After much pressure on my husband by me, I finally persuaded him to let me sell the home we had lived in for so long. Inflation had started and it was costing so much to keep our property in repair. We couldn't get help with the yard and the repair work and we were getting too old to worry all the time about these matters. Bonita and Bob were retired and living in Bella Vista, Arkansas, and Christine sold her home in Neosho and moved to Bella Vista. We rented a little two bedroom duplex in Pineville, Missouri, just a few miles from Bella Vista. Toney and Eleanor moved to Bella Vista in 1983 and now all of my sisters are nearby. Frances Ruth "Fannie" (Talbert) (Doane) (Montgomery) (Humy) was the daughter of James Abel Talbert and Ada Horner. Ada was a daughter of Amos Horner born TN and Martha Jane Smith, born Bentonville, AR. James was a son of David and Ruth Frances (Sallee) Talbert. They married on Dec. 21, 1902, in Barry Co., MO. James and Ada are buried at Horner Cemetery. Frances is buried at Oak Hill Cemetery. Frances first married to Jimmie Doane, divorced, and then Hugh Timothy Montgomery in 1934, he died in 1952, buried at Oak Hill Cemetery. Married again to Nick Humy, died in 1956, buried at Monett IOOF Cemetery. Last married Perry Everett Pierce in 1966, buried at Horner Cemetery Submitted By: Phyllis Long with permission from Mary Jane King, Daughter of Frances Talbert.