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With the holidays just around the corner, I’m reminded of the importance of family.
Growing up, we often spent Thanksgiving and Christmas Day at my grandparent’s house on my mom’s side of the family. My most memorable Thanksgivings and Christmases were during my later teenage years. We’d all sit around and visit and then eat. My grandmother, who I called Me Maw, could prepare and cook a Thanksgiving or Christmas meal for a dozen or more family members faster than some could get the pans out of the cupboard. Having seven children, she cooked a lot of meals on a wood-burning stove. For years, she worked in care centers, at schools and on river barges as a cook. My grandparent’s lived in several places including north Tulsa, Owasso, a Tulsa suburb, and with my aunt Alice and Uncle Ron in southeast Tulsa. In the mid 1970s, they lived in a three-bedroom prefab home in the county near Coweta, Okla., about 35 miles southeast of Tulsa. My grandpa, who I called Pa Paw, always raised a large garden and he had a few cows, including an old Jersey cow. My mom loved to milk the old cow and bring home fresh milk. She’d used a churn and make fresh butter and cream. I wouldn’t drink the fresh cow milk. Mine had to come from the grocery store. My grandparents raised and butchered a cow and pig or two each year. My grandmother and Mom often mixed up a batch of head cheese. Head cheese is often called jellied meatloaf or meat jelly and is made with flesh from the head of a calf or pig. It is usually eaten cold, at room temperature, or in a sandwich. Despite its name, the dish is not a cheese and contains no dairy products. The parts of the head used vary, and may include the tongue but do not commonly include the brain, eyes or ears. My mom would challenge me to eat a spoonful of head cheese for a $1. Once I polished off the first round, she’d challenge me to a second round in which I most often did not partake. When my grandparents butchered a cow or pig, my grandmother would make scrambled eggs and brains. I may have eaten it without knowing better, but if I did, like the head cheese, I’d pass on the tasty delight. They raised chickens out back of the house. I can still see my grandmother standing at the kitchen sink gutting chickens while sweat ran down her arms. She always stuffed the gizzard and neck in a plastic baggy and placed it inside the chicken before putting the birds in the freezer. My mom and her siblings grew up poor. When she got sick at age 12, my grandfather would carry her to the doctor in town on a homemade bed placed on the plow pulled by a tractor because they didn’t have a car or truck. The doctor wanted to try one more medicine and if it didn’t work, he wanted to carry her to the Mayo Clinic. My grandparents didn’t have any money to take her to the Mayo. The doctor said he’d cover the bill. He gave her a penicillin shot and it cured her. They moved all around in the Bootheel of Southeast Missouri. I remember hearing my mom talking about living on Seven Ditch outside of New Madrid. The roads were known as ditches in that part of the state. They lived in shacks and used the heat from the cookstove to warm the house. Baths were taken in a #3 washtub and when you had to go, that meant a trip to the outhouse. My mom and her siblings picked cotton during the summer months and enjoyed a Pepsi once a year on the Fourth of July. Often times, their Christmas gifts from Santa were an apple, orange and nuts. Santa always left an apple, orange and nuts in my stocking. My mom worked a deal out with Santa as a reminder to my brother and me what she had to endure in life. I have no idea what roughing it in life means. I’ve never done without or went hungry. Anyway, back to the holidays. My mom made cakes for years and people would hire her to make wedding and anniversary cakes, birthday cakes and various character cakes. For the holidays, she enjoyed making a broken glass cake dessert to carry to family gatherings. It was made with lime, orange and strawberry gelatin, placed in a cream filling topped with graham cracker crumbs. She’d often make white divinity, a nougat-like confection made with whipped egg whites, corn syrup and sugar. She also enjoyed making fudge. I enjoyed eating both of the tasty delights as a youngster. Nowadays, I enjoy the holiday meals with my Iowa family. I love the family gatherings and all the good food. I enjoy listening to farming stories. I encourage you this year to gather and reconnect with your family. Outside of a relationship with God, family is the most important blessing in life. Put the politics and the troubles and worries of life on the back burner and take a few moments to give thanks to God for all of His blessings Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day.
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I only remember once traveling through the Oklahoma Panhandle, commonly referred to as No man’s Land, a strip of land between Texas and Kansas in the northwestern part of the Sooner state.
My dad and I had made the trek to visit the Grand Canyon in June 1989. After taking the southern route through Texas, New Mexico and Arizona and visiting the canyon, we traveled northeast for supper in Page, Ariz. Motel prices where more than we wanted to spend, so we headed into Utah. It was dark and as we rolled along, I said something to my dad about being in Utah. “That’s great son,” he said. “I just can’t see it.” We stopped at a small motel in Big Water, Utah and spent the night. After enjoying breakfast at a local eatery the next morning, we headed west after I learned about a Hollywood movie set nearby. We drove across the dessert on a makeshift road to visit the Paria movie set, where we spent a couple hours checking out the set constructed in 1962 for the movie, Sergeants 3. In 1976, the ending scene of the Outlaw Josey Wales with Clint Eastwood was the last movie to be filmed there. I took off walking on the western edge of town looking for photo opportunities and went a bit further than I should have. My dad was a touch upset with me doing that, telling me that I could have gotten lost and unable to find my way back. We met and visited with a father and son from Washington, D.C., who were touring the movie set and area. After visiting the Four Corners, where Arizona, Colorado, Utah and New Mexico intersect, we cut across southern Colorado, staying the night in Durango before crossing over Wolf Creek Pass. Our next stop was Alamosa, Colo. for the evening. We then made our way to Raton, New Mexico and enjoyed a meal at Denny’s. We cut across northeastern New Mexico and made our way across the Oklahoma Panhandle. We came across an oilfield pumping station along Highway 412. It just happened that there were several GASO pumps at the station. My dad worked for GASO Pump in Tulsa for nearly 40 years and may have helped build the pumps at the station. The company specialized in building pumps that push crude oil through oil pipelines. I just remember him standing there looking at the pumps and thinking about the years of service he’d given that company. A wheat harvesting crew rolled by and made a stop to check on equipment and we talked with them about their work. I’m not sure, but I believe we stayed the night in Beaver, Okla. It happened that it was my dad’s 60thbirthday. We’d stopped at a local restaurant the night before and my dad had found some locals to visit with while I made my way back to the motel. A lot has changed in my life since those days. Today, I’d been right there next to my dad listening in or looking for someone to shoot the breeze with. The Oklahoma Panhandle stretches 166 miles and is 34 miles wide. The panhandle is comprised of three counties – Texas, Beaver and Cimarron. Brief history of the panhandle: The Republic of Texas founded the panhandle area on March 2, 1936. Texas surrendered claim; panhandle became “unattached” territory in 1850 First petition for territorial status sent to Congress in February 1887. Second petition for territorial status sent to Congress in December 1887 Attached to Oklahoma Territory in 1890 Prior to Oklahoma Statehood in 1907, the panhandle consisted of one county, Beaver. Farming and ranching operations occupy most of the economic activity in the region, with ranching dominating the drier western end. The region's higher educational needs are served by Oklahoma Panhandle State University in Goodwell, 10 miles southwest of Guymon. The panhandle features Black Mesa State Park, the highest point in Oklahoma, reaching 4,973 feet above sea level. Beaver, the town my dad and I stayed the night, is home to the World Cow Chip Throwing Championship. Guymon, the largest city in the panhandle, is a hub for the local economy, which includes wheat farming, livestock, hog and dairy farming, manufacturing and oil and natural gas production. Boise City, another city in the Oklahoma Panhandle has an unusual history. During World War II, the city was mistakenly bombed by a friendly U.S. bomber crew during training. The bombing occurred on July 5, 1943, at approximately 12:30 a.m. by a B-17 Flying Fortress Bomber. I have briefly touched on the history of the Oklahoma Panhandle. To learn more, visit Wikipedia.org or the internet on Oklahoma history. Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day. What may be considered by some as one of Iowa’s most famous murders took place in Villisca, Iowa in the southwest part of the state on June 10, 1912.
On that night, someone used an axe to bludgeoned and murder Josiah and Sarah Moore and their four children, Herman, 11, Mary, 10, Arthur, 7, and Paul, 5, along with two child guests, Ina Stillinger, 8, and her sister, Lenae, 11. The family had attended the Presbyterian church in Villisca the evening before where they participated in the Children’s Day Program, which Sarah had coordinated. It was reported that the family arrived home sometime around 9:45 p.m. the evening before the murders. There were several suspects in the murders, including traveling minister Rev. George Kelly, who was tried twice for the murder. The first trial ended in a hung jury, while the second ended in an acquittal. Other suspects included Frank F. Jones, a prominent Villisca resident and Iowa State Senator; hired gun, William “Blackie” Mansfield, Henry Lee Moore, S.A. Sawyer and Joe Ricks, who was detained in Monmouth, Ill., but none were found guilty of the crime. Even though there were many leads and suspects, to this day, the murders remain unsolved. That brings me to another Iowa murder, maybe not as famous, but equally cruel and memorable. During the early morning hours of Nov. 1, 50-years ago this week, Leslie Mark and his wife, Jorjean, both age 25, and their two small children, Julie, 5, and Jeff, 21 months of age, were shot in the heart and head while they slept in their rural farm home near Cedar Falls. A few weeks earlier, Leslie Mark, his father, Wayne, and brother, Jerry, had met at the family homestead to discuss the future of the family farm. Wayne’s cancer had returned and he was updating his will to make sure the family farm business would continue to be successful. He wanted input from Leslie, who had taken on the role of assisting in all aspects of the family farm and Jerry, who had shown an interest in the farming operation earlier in life, but had since moved to Berkeley, Calif. According to reports, the meeting became tense when Wayne announced his decision to divide the family money equally between Leslie, Jerry and their two brothers. He also announced at the time that Leslie and his wife would take over the farming operation, as they had invested both time and money into the farm. Just three weeks before the murders, Leslie and Jorjean and their children packed up their belongings and moved to the family homestead. Wayne and his wife, Dorothy, moved to a smaller home nearby where Wayne could continue gardening as his health allowed. During the investigation detectives learned that rare 38 caliber bullets were purchased at a gun shop in a California town near where Jerry lived. The bullets were those supposedly used in the murders. The gun store clerk identified Jerry as the person who purchased the bullets. Many other clues uncovered by the detectives led them all back to Jerry. That included a motorcycle cross-country ride that landed Jerry in the Midwest. It was also discovered that a shed on Jerry’s property had supposedly been broken into where the gun had been stored. Just 10 days after the murder, Jerry Mark, was arrested and charged with the four murders. Jerry was later tried and found guilty. I first learned of the Mark murders in a book entitled, Brother’s Blood: A Heartland Cain and Abel by Scott Cawelti, a now retired University of Northern Iowa English professor, who attended Cedar Falls High School and knew Jerry Mark. It may have been my local doctor who told me about the book. Debbie ordered it for me and I dove right in, becoming enthralled with the story as it unfolded. Cawelti was a presenter at the 2014 All-Iowa Writers’ Conference that my wife, Debbie, and I host each fall. He shared about the book, the Mark family and the murders. It was a fascinating presentation. You dared not to blink because you might miss something. Jerry was a Peace Corp volunteer, a lawyer, 4-H leader, vice-president of his Cedar Falls High School senior class of 1960, and the one student who was most likely to succeed in life. Jerry Mark remains in the Iowa State Penitentiary in Fort Madison where he is serving four consecutive life sentences, all while making numerous appeals for three decades. To learn more about the murders including information compiled from an interview with Jerry Mark, check out Cawelti’ book. It is available through Amazon. Have a great week and always remember that “Good Things are Happening,” every day. |
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