Transcribed
by Pat Stubbs
October
5, 1950
* CAL'S COLUMN *
This is Monday, September 25, 1950.
Exactly 39 years ago this
morning Cal began teaching at Beech Bottom , five miles south of
Lafayette. The school was then and
still is known as Old Bottom. Thirty
nine years ago yesterday, which was on Sunday as it was this time, we bought
our first buggy, even though it was on Sunday.
We bought this outfit from T. T. (Taylor) Gregory, for many years an
implement dealer at Dixon Springs. He
sold farm implements, buggies, carriages, wire fencing and many many other
items needed on farms in the long gone yers.
So on that Sunday morning we had to have some sort of conveyance to get to
our school at Old Bottom. Borrowing a
buggy was a possibility, but Cal had decided he wanted one of his own. So he went down to Taylor Gregory's on
Sunday morning, September 24, 1911, and bought a new, rubber-tired, auto-seat
buggy, for $125.00. We may some day
have a means of conveyance that will give us a greater thrill than that buggy
did, but we have not yet found it. We
have owned several cars, but not one of them gave us the "kick" of
that buggy 39 years ago. We hitched old
"Ned" to that buggy and drove down the road. Although he had not been worked to a buggy
before and even tried to pace to the
buggy at first, it wasn't long until he had learned to go down the road in a
long trot, with his hind feet far apart and "licking up" the
miles. Even till today we remembered
how noiselessly that buggy moved over the very poor roads of 40 years ago or
more. Only the hoofbeats of the horse
and the "squeaking" of the harness were to be heard and they made
"heavenly music" to a youth of 20 years. O how sweet life seemed and how far off the "evil day"
appeared. Old age was not even remotely
considered as we rode through the sunlight of life's early morning. We suffered no foreboding of any coming
burdens, of any worries, or of anything but happiness, contentment and the
fullest of the joys that life offers to the young who are strong in body,
active in mind, and who disdained to even think of anything else in the
future. We were then swift on foot,
having never been beaten in a race with perhaps two exceptions. We were strong in body with never, an ache
and "nary a pain." We think
we may be pardoned for saying we had a good memory and a zeal for reading that
has not vanished with the years, although old man memory is going back on Cal
at a rather fast rate. We loved
teaching and delighted in being with children. We had then taught two
successful schools, the first at Dean Hill, in the extreme northeast corner of
Smith County, and the other at Mace's Hill, near which place we
"discovered America" on Wednesday morning, July 8, 1891, about the
time the sun rose. So we began teaching
at nineteen years of age and on a salary of $40.00 per month, with a school
term of four month the first year. Our
board cost us $8.00 per month; and, out of that four-months' school term, we
saved $100, the first money we ever did save, and in one way perhaps the
last. Since that time we have had to
strive to make "buckle and tongue meet."
So our third school was to be at Beech Bottom, so named for the old
beeches that once grew in the bottom fields along Dry Fork Creek in that
particular section. We left home in the Mace's Hill section one summer morning
to "hunt" for a school. We
heard that Ebenezer school had no teacher.
We journeyed to that community, but somehow did not do any good. Next we heard that the school at Old Bottom
had not "been let," and that on opening was to be found there. We had in our pocket a fine recommendation
from our old teacher, Prof. George W. Goad , and felt that we could not "be denied a school." Later the same day we hunted up the school
directors, one of whom was Charlie Burrow, at present a citizen of the
Meadorville section. He lived then
where he now resides. We went to his
home to be told that he was at work high up on the hill southwest of his
residence. We climbed that hill and
found him at work in his tobacco patch.
This was dark tobacco and we had helped to make many a crop of the weed. We somehow had at that time "quite a
bit of tongue," a thing we still have, and soon engaged Mr. Burrow in
conversation and later asked for the school.
In conjunction with the *other directors. Cal was given the right to teach school at Beech Bottom for three
months at the salary of $35.00 per month.
We were not rushed for time 39 years ago and had the opportunity of
doing our work as we wanted to, leisurely and without being rushed to death as
we are today. So we came back to the
Old Bottom section in a few days and visited every home in which there were
children of school age in that section.
We thus got acquainted with the fathers and mothers and their
children. We spent more than two days
in visiting among our students to be.
We recall that we spent the first night
in the home of Charlie Cox, who lived then in the hollow above where Bob
Ballou now lives. We also recall that
we spent the second night in the home of William Mitchell-Gammon, a soldier of
the Union Army during the Civil War and one who enjoyed talking. He lived then in a nice country home about
one-fourth of a mile down where the Dark Hollow stream joins the stream coming
down form the Billy McDonald section.
He received a nice pension and was well off and taking life as it
came. We were well entertained in the
home, his wife at that time being active and able to look after the affairs of
the home. One thing is vividly
recalled, the loud, piercing calls of peafowls, which awoke us early the next
morning.
A short time before we arrived at the Gammon home, we had visited
another home in that section, that of Mr. and Mr. Duncan Gammon, Mr. Gammon
being the only son of W. M. Gammon. In
the Duncan Gammon home, we met for the first time that August day, his
daughter, Mae, who was then 18 years of age.
Later she was to become the wife of the writer. However, it was not love at first
sight. She was a pleasant-faced,
red-cheeked young girl, rather tall and slender, and somewhat bashful in the
presence of the new teacher. Like young
people in every age of the world, we did not have a hard time of getting acquainted. She attended the school for a month and we
had not one intention of seeking to keep her company we certainly did not do
"any courting" what ever.
After she had to give up school the writer began to keep her company and
late in February following we were married, with the late Squire Dock Gregory
performing the ceremony.
But to resume our account of the school. So on the morning of September 25, 1911, we left the home of
Brother J. B. Mathis, a mile down the creek below the school, where we had
secured board for eight dollars per month, and hurried to school. By eight o'clock opening morning , there
were 67 boys and girls present, ranging in age from six year to 18. Never had we before had so many students all
for one teacher. Although we had seen
practically all of them a short time before in their homes, we were unable to
call the name of scarcely one of them.
So we finally had to "label" all the smaller children, pinning
on their sleeves their names. By this
means we were able to call their name in a very short time.
(To be
continued)
Transcriber note:
*It is evident that in the article a
typographical error occurred.
This has been corrected for clarity.