Church Camp and a First Kiss

When I around 13 or 14 I started going to a one-week church-sponsored camp at Kiamichi Baptist Assemly in the beautiful hills surrounding Talihina, Oklahoma.  The camp is located off Highway 271 south about 20 miles to Christ 40 Acres (a church camp).  There were thousands of kids from hundreds of churches scheduled for practically every week during the summer.  It was a wonderful week of swimming, eating cold popsicles, attending early morning and evening church every day, Bible classes, and arts and crafts.  There were bunk beds in rustic cabins and no running water, but we did have electricity.  Showers and restrooms were down the hill from the cabins.  Each cabin had at least two adult sponsors who keep tight reins on their assigned girls or boys. 

Rita's mother (Rita Wanell was my church BFF) was our cabin sponser for several years, and I always rode in their car to the camp since we didn't have a church bus in those days.  We would meet at the church very early on Monday morning, with duffel bags packed full of needful things for the week, including towels, blankets, pillows, flashlights, play clothes and church clothes, and of course our Bible. 

We were required to wear dresses or skirts for both the evening and morning church services--no jeans or shorts, and the boys wore slacks with dress shirts.  It was 1957.  I am wearing my cute black and white stripped pedal pushers that Grandma made when Rita took this picture of me--me and my "Olive Oyl" figure in those days!  After church services and morning Bible class, we ran back to the cabins and changed for lunch.  Each church had their own cooks in a separate bunkhouse and all of the kids and sponsors from our church ate there.  Then we had afternoons to play ball, walk around, swim, and eat popsicles. 

We had specific swimming schedules and there was absolutely no coed swimming allowed.  In fact, you were required to wear a robe over your swimsuit when walking to and from the swimming hole.  This is how it was in 1957 kids.  I mentioned there was electricity in the cabins but we didn't have portable hair dryers back then so if you swam, you wore a swimming cap (ugh!), and when you took a shower, you wore a shower cap! 

It was always dark by the time evening service was over so that is why you needed a flashlight--also good for writing in your diary after lights out if you could get away with staying up past ten.  Rita and I always walked together and on one particular night two boys started following us and began talking to us so we let them walk along.  I was 15 and "never been kissed" nor had she, since she was a couple of years younger than me.  The boys started holding our hands and then the one I was walking with with pulled me aside and I remember kissing that boy which seemed like a very long time.  Well, we got scared after the boys told us there were not attending camp and weren't associated with any of the churches--they were local boys "just visiting".  We ran off and Rita told her mother, who was our cabin sponsor,  about the boys.  She didn't get upset too much but said we should walk with her to our cabin the next night to make sure the boys didn't bother us again, and if we saw them at the evening service next night to point them out, but (unfortunately) we never saw them again!  The boys were probably on the prowl and kissing other girls the next night!

Anyway, during the next two summers Rita and I met two very nice boys from Sallisaw, Paul and Johnny, who actually did go to church camp the same time we did.  We double-dated a couple of times after camp ended that summer and I continued to date Paul for a time, even though he lived in Sallisaw, which was 11 miles west of Muldrow.  He was a great basketball player and I would ride the school bus to Sallisaw when our teams played so I could see him play.  His schoolmates called him "Streak" but he had one problem--he stuttered when he was nervous.  I guess I made him nervous because he always stuttered around me!  It was never easy to date boys from a neighboring town in those days especially if you weren't allowed to stay out past ten, and the boys I dated were in sports and had ball practice all the time.  I'll have to tell you about Mickey, a football player from Sallisaw, but that's another story!
Love, Mom & Nana

Just The Way You Are

 When I see your face, there's not a thing that I would change

Cause you're amazing, just the way you are.

And when you smile, the whole world stops awhile

Because you're amazing just the way you are.

These are lyrics from Bruno Mars' Song, Just the Way You Are, because it reminds me of my sister, Kathryn Bernice Riddle Lamb (Kathy).  You see, Kathy is battling cancer and no matter what this devastating disease has done to her, she is truly amazing just the way she is, and is truly the same beautiful girl who has raised and loved all kinds of animals, especially horses.  The picture to the left is with son, Randal Lamb, and one of her horses they once had on their farm in Kansas.  Randal is grown up now and  married with five children.



Eddie in dress with doll!

Kathy, was born on November 7, 1945, to Elmo John Riddle and Mildred Bernice McKinney Riddle, and although we do not share the same mother and are half-sisters, she is my only sister.   Kathy always wanted a big sister and a little sister because after her came three boys--Eddie, Gary and Ricky.  A little girl, Brenda Gail, was born on January 19, 1960, when they lived in Great Bend, Kansas, but the baby died at birth.  Unfortunately, Kathy didn't have me around as her big sister, since I lived with my paternal grandparents in Oklahoma.  Kathy longed for a little sister, so she would put dresses and wigs on our two brothers, Eddie and Gary, and Mom took pictures of them.  Ricky was born in 1955, so he probably escaped some of the fun, but knowing her, she probably dressed him in cute dresses when he was an infant!. 


Eddie in dress & wig.



I think that it must be a "big sister" tradition of dressing your little brother as a girl, because our own daughter, Tiffany, used to dress little brother, Mark, in a pink slip and roll his hair in pink sponge rollers.  I am not sure that Eddie and Gary enjoyed wearing those dresses too much, but Eddie recently told me they didn't have a choice in the matter!  Eddie doesn't appear to be too thrilled about it in this picture!




Gary in dress.

Kathy grew up to be a beautiful girl and married Ronnie Lamb on February 10, 1963.  Their son, Randal, was born on February 22, 1964. They have two beautiful granddaughters, Tatiana and Trinity, and three handsome grandsons, Tayor, Tristan & Turner--Randy and Julie's children.  They live in Kansas too.

I love you, Sis, and you will beat this cancer with God's help! I know you are struggling every day and I pray for God to wrap his arms around you to give you back your strength and help you get through this, because you are amazing!
With Love from your Big Sis

Mary, Joseph and James, A Christmas Story

Each year the First Baptist Church I attended as a child and continued through my senior year had a Christmas play and always put a huge Christmas tree in the auditorium.  Everyone's name was put into a hat and each person drew a name and brought one gift to place under the tree to open on Christmas Eve after the pageant.  No grownup or child went home empty-handed because the Ladies Auxiliary bought extra plastic net stockings and filled each one with nuts and candy for visitors and guests of families.  All of the kids got to take a candy-filled stocking home plus their gift.  My church BFF, Rita, and I always brought an extra gift for each other.

Traditionally, someone would read the story of Jesus' birth from one of the Four Gospels in the Bible.  I remember loving Saint Luke's passages best and would read it to my Grandmother every Christmas.  She loved to hear me read the scriptures after I learned to read.  Don't be mislead, Grandma could read and she taught a women's Bible class for many years. She read her Bible every day, but she really enjoyed reading my teen magazines I bought from Miss Emma's Variety Store. 

One year I played the role of Mary in the Christmas play and James Roland, who was a couple years older than me, played Joseph.  James was hands-down the smartest kid in school, always top honors in his classes and scholarships awarded upon graduation.  He was an only child and regularly attended church with his parents.  His father was also a Church Deacon like my Grandpa Riddle.  I always thought James was such a "square" in those days--you guys would call him a "nerd" or "dweeb" I suppose nowadays. I was embarrassed  because he "liked" me when we were in our preteens, but later in high school, we dated several times.  He was a nice Christian boy whom my Grandparents approved of, and his dad had a nice car.  Turned out he was all right to go out with even if he was kind of square and... he was a good kisser, although I didn't many boys to compare him with at that time.
As the Christmas narration continued, the Angels came and frightened the Shepherds, the Star of Bethlehem appeared to the Wise Men, then Mary and Joseph make their entrance onto the stage to the manger scene.  Baby Jesus, someone's doll--not mine (I think I had already buried mine) played the role of Baby Jesus "wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger" (I pretty much know the story by heart).

James was dressed in his dad's bathrobe with a towel draped around his head as Joseph, and me in choir robe tied at waist with a cloth of some kind for Mary's head covering, took our places on the stage in front of the manger.  No spoken lines for us, just sitting and looking with admiration at the Baby Jesus in the manger.....for a very long time!  

I remember being mesmerized by the semi-darkness and soft glowing lights around Baby Jesus, and I either nodded off or completely forgot our cue to "exit stage left."  So I continued sitting and staring at the Baby Jesus, when suddenly James began shaking my chair, easily at first and then he shook it so hard I almost fell out of the chair on onto the manger.  I turned around and gave him a look that could kill, but he indiscreetly nodded his head towards the end of the stage and mouthed the words, "time to go". 

That was my first acting debut and probably the last, but it was fun and a great memory when I played Mary and James Roland played the role of Joseph.  I would love to know if James remembers that, and if I ever see him again, I'll be sure to ask.

Love, Mom & Nana
Posted on April 8 at 6:50 p.m.

Mister Sandman, Bring Me a Dream!

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

Make him the cutest that I've ever seen

Give him two lips like roses and clover

Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over

Sandman, I'm so alone

Don't have nobody to call my own

Please turn on your magic beam

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream!

It's 1954 and I am 13 years old standing on the floor of the school gymnasium singing my heart out in front of the entire school, teachers and a few parents for the Sandman to "bring me a dream."  Miss Jane was playing the piano when I stepped up the mike and sang that popular song by the Chordettes.  This solo performance was probably the first of many solos I performed during my junior and high school years.  I loved to sing and had a pretty good voice and could "carry a tune" at an early age.  Miss Jane Metz taught music and I took chorus all through high school.  Our high school choral group performed Handel's Messiah one year at the Methodist Church.  I always got an "A" in chorus, and I performed solos, duets, or trios at special occasions--football homecomings and talent shows.  I won the top prize of $20 at a Chamber of Commerce talent show as Rita, my BFF from church, accompanied me on piano when I sang How Great Thou Art.  We split the winnings and bought new clothes or shoes, but I don't remember exactly what I bought--probably bubble gum and candy!

During my 11th and 12th years in high school (1958-1959), our choral group traveled to Tahlequah and Poteau to perform with thousands of high school kids across the state.  What an amazing sound of beautiful young voices blending together, plus a trip to Northeastern State University (NSU) and staying in the dorms that I will never forget!  We stayed in private homes when we went to Poteau (three girls to a bedroom) and it was my first time to have fresh grapefruit and cereal from a box for breakfast.  Wow!  Those city folks really knew how to live!  NSU was fun except when my two friends, Shirley and Patty, made fools of themselves dancing one night at the college "mixer".  The boys starting throwing coins down to them from the balcony.   When the movie Footloose came out in 1984, it made me think how similar Muldrow was to the town of Elmore City, Oklahoma, in that movie.  Growing up with a Southern Baptist background, I was taught that dancing was sinful, so I was not about to participate in their dancing that night.  Patty loved to dance and she would occasionally show up on Saturday mornings dancing on a television station in Fort Smith around the time American Bandstand became popular back east.  I think she was "ostrascized" from the First Baptist Church for a time, but she didn't care!  Patty was born to dance and pop gum. 

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream
Make him the cutest that I've ever seen
Give him the word that I'm not a rover
Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over.

I wasn't noticed by the boys when I was 13--guess I was little bit too much of a tomyboy or maybe it was because I was built like Olive Oyl, Popeye's girlfriend.  I don't think I was noticed by the boys until I was at least 16.  I was a very "late bloomer" and built like a stick, but I could sure sing hoping someday I would have that dream guy.  I think about Taylor Swift and when she relates her story about how her parents moved to Nashville so she could further her career in music and became so popular.  No one really thought about that for me in 1954, and we didn't have American  Idol or America's Got Talent, but we did have a radio station in Fort Smith that some of my friends managed to get on to show off their talent for singing.  I guess my grandparents didn't really think about it things like that.  If they had, maybe I would have been their "meal ticket" out of there, or at least mine. 



Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

Give him a pair of eyes with a come-hither gleam

Give him a lonely heart like Pagliacci

And wavy hair like Liberace.

Mr. Sandman, someone to hold

Would be so peachy before I'm too old

So please turn on your magic beam,

Mr. Sandman and bring me, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream!

And kids, just so you know, I did learn to dance and danced plenty of times after school at the malt shop with Patty and the girls.  Patty taught me how to bop, but I never told my grandparents.  Some things are just best left unsaid.

Love, Mom & Nana

My Passion for Betsy McCall Paper Dolls

You kids know by now about my infatuation with dolls when I was small, but I also loved paper dolls and still do.  I would find old Sears & Roebuck catalogs and cut out the men, women and children to make up my paper doll families.  I kept them safely put away under my bed in a shoebox, and only took them out when cousins didn't come over to visit.  I would cut out furniture, dishes and kitchen appliances--anything pretty to make up my paper doll playhouses.  Sometimes I would make my own paper doll furniture out of construction paper.  This was truly one of my favorite past-times except for playing with jacks and shooting marbles in the back yard.

I have a short story to interject here about playing jacks.  I accidently left one of those metal jacks on the floor one day and my poor Grandma stepped on it--she always went barefoot around the house.  She was very upset with me over that and declared it severely damaged her heel.  I still cringe to this day thinking about the pain she must have endured over that.  She actually did limp around for many days afterwards.  I really felt bad about it but I think I felt worse after the tongue-lashing she gave me!  Believe me--I was very careful about playing with jacks after that.  I played marbles too and traded for prettier marbles with kids at school.  I always either had bubble gum or marbles in my jean's pockets.  I kept my marbles in a large coffee can at home.  Now you know where I kept my marbles!  (No laughing out loud here!)



I was always blowing bubbles!
This wasn't our house--I don't know
where it was taken.

 
Paper dolls were much safer to play with and it was my passion.  Then one day around 1951, I discovered the McCall's Magazine and in each monthly issue was the cutest paper doll called Betsy McCall.  Each month there was a new page of her featured in her little undershirt and panties (oh dear!); Betsy McCall goes to the country; Betsy McCall goes shopping; Betsy McCall goes to school; etc.  What a delight when I disovered Betsy McCall.  No only did each page have the cutest clothes with little white tabs to fold over and cover her "undies", it also held accessories, such as her own little dolls, hats, chickens, pets, schoolbooks--whatever the topic was for that month.  It was absolutely the most adorable paper doll I had ever seen!  I couldn't wait for the next issue so I could see what Betsy was up to that month.  And later on McCalls introduced Barbara McCall, her cousin.  Each page would have a short story about what Betsy had planned for that day.

As I was searching the Internet for Betsy McCall paper dolls before I began this writing, I found those 1950's issues of McCall's featuring the Betsy McCall paper doll.  If any of you readers have a little granddaughter or great-granddaughter who loves paper dolls (our Tristen is too full grown now for paper dolls and I don't think Bryce being a boy would care about them), you can actually print the pages on heavy bond paper and have your very own Betsy McCall paper dolls.  I am going print them just for me anyway!  You're never too old to play with paper dolls are you?

A Fox Hunt with Grandfather

I mentioned in an earlier story about my Grandpa Riddle raising hound dogs and how he loved to go fox hunting.  Every now and then he would bring home a new dog or sometimes one of the females gave birth to a litter.   He kept around five or six dogs at a time in a kennel in the back yard.  My poor Grandmother disliked those dogs because they had so many fleas and she didn't like them riding in the car when he took them on fox hunts.  "Our nice car" she'd say, and "you'd better clean it out before church on Sunday!"

I was never allowed to play with any of the pups as he reminded me they were not pets.  They were raised for a specific purpose and that purpose was to chase and kill foxes.  I'll probably start getting letters from the humane society now, but it was not my idea--it was the "sport" of the older men in town to train their hounds to hunt down some defenseless little fox.

From time to time I would go with Grandpa to the mountain to call the dogs on Saturday mornings.  He had a "blowing horn" from a hollowed-out steer's horn and taped at the small end to form the mouthpiece.  Each hunter had a unique way of blowing their horns that only their dogs recognized.  When my cousins would visit, we would take turns and put forth our best attempts to make it sound like Grandpa did, but to no avail.  When I went with him sometimes on Saturday mornings to call the dogs, I was amazed by how loudly he could blow that little horn!  It could be heard for miles and those hound dogs came running right to him.

I asked Grandpa one fall day if  he would take me fox hunting with him some Friday night.  He agreed I could go so we loaded up the car with dogs, a thermos of coffee, some biscuits and left-over bacon to eat, and we headed out around dusk.  The hunters had a certain campsite where they gathered, and I think this particular one was in a cornfield because I remember laying with my head on Grandpa's lap across some bumpy rows of cornstalks or some sort of plant that had been harvested.  The men had shotguns which I thought they took along to hunt with, but that's not the way it was at all.  I remember saying, "when do we leave to hunt?"  Grandpa said something like "well, this is it" as he was untying the anxious dogs,who knew what was in store for them, but I didn't know what was in store for me. 

Fox hunting in Oklahoma in the 50's was a "little different" than it was in England where the rich landowners donned their pretty red jackets, saddled their finest horses, led out by their sleekest hounds into the fields for the "merry old chase".  In Oklahoma, you built a fire, sat around it, drank coffee, chewed and spit tobacco, and listened to your dogs run.  You could hear the dogs take off running after the men untied their ropes.  Their barking was normal at first, but it wouldn't be long until the dogs found their quarry and were in fast pursuit of that little red fox!  Well, "here comes the excitement now" the men would say.  They could make out the frenzied barks of their own hounds, ole' Sadie, Duke, Lulu or Sam, the same way the dogs made out their master's voices and horns.  Grandpa knew when Sadie or Duke treed the fox by the sound of their barking, but the men never went to the aid of the poor fox nor went to hunt with their hounds.  The "hunters" merely listened the sound of their dogs barking in hot pursuit from back at the campsite and seemed to enjoy every minute of it!

I don't know how long we stayed, but it was probably around midnight by the time we got home. Grandpa
carried me back to car while I was sleeping and put me to bed when we got home.  And that, kids, is my first and only fox hunting adventure!

Posted on Sunday, April 3, 2011

Christmas Icicles and a Cardboard Star



 I always looked forward to Christmas as a child because there was a special adventure in store for me.  Grandpa Riddle would take me to a neighboring pasture in search of a Christmas tree.  Christmas tree lots were unheard of back in the 50's in our small town, so you either went to someone's pasture or you could buy one of those fake aluminum ones sold at Kress's in Fort Smith.

Grandpa would load up his axe, some rope and a shovel in his 1951 brown and white Chevy and we would drive out to someone's pasture to look for a tree for Christmas.  We didn't chop down any big trees like Clark Griswold did in Christmas Vacation nor was there 10 feet of snow on the ground.  The trees we always chopped down were five feet or smaller, and were more comparable to a Charlie Brown Christmas Tree.  We also hunted for holly berries and I would pick as many berries as my pockets would hold so Grandma and I could string them for garland.  Once we got home Grandpa would saw the bottom of the tree trunk to make it flat, and then he'd take two short boards to build a wooden stand in the shape of an "X" (just like Charlie Brown's).

Sometimes I made a colorful chain from construction paper for garland, and to top it all off, Grandma made a perfect five-point star cut from cardboard and covered it with pieces of tin foil.  We kept that star year after year.  Just last Christmas I was telling my daughter about the tin foil star, and she and Stephanie, her stepdaughter, decided to create their own cardboard, foil-covered star, but they got their star pattern from the Internet!  It turned out really beautiful and Stephanie decorated it with colorful beads.  I always had one very old string of electric lights, but they never worked.  I was lucky if they stayed lit for a minute or two, so for the sparkle effect, I always bought one box of icicles every year from Miss Emma's Variety Store downtown.  However, one year I was too late in getting to the Variety Store and Miss Emma sold out of icicles early in the season and said she wouldn't be ordering any more.  I was genuinely disappointed and cried all the way home. 

Grandma always saved the papers that came wrapped around the tobacco in Grandpa's Prince Albert tobacco cans. She said maybe I could cut them into icicles.  The papers were shiny foil on one side and white on the reverse.  I loved to find those papers and smell that wonderful aroma left by the tobacco.  While Grandma strung popcorn and berries for the garland, I remember meticulously cutting Prince Albert tobacco papers into icicles for the tree. I bent each one on the very end so they would stay on the branches.  Try to picture in your mind--we have a Charlie Brown Christmas Tree with a cardboard, foil-covered star, garland chain made from construction paper, a few red berries and popcorn for extra garland, lights that would only come on if you jiggled them just right, and now the "piece de re'sistance",  icicles made from Prince Albert tobacco papers scattered throughout.   Wow!  Is this imaginative or what?  No, this is what you do when if the variety store is out of icicles.

My cousin, Brenda, made fun of it--she always made fun of things I did, but never in front of Grandma.  I was always extremely jealous of her Christmas trees because she had fancy lights that bubbled and sparkly icicles.

I didn't appreciate it at the time, but I realize now how much it meant to me that Grandma and I spent all day making those decorations, and equally special to me that Grandpa took me to find a Christmas tree out in that pasture every year.  This is such a great memory to me--one I shall never forget, especially those icicles made from Prince Albert tobacco papers.