Post Twenty: When my family owned Niagra Falls

     Jan was always the quiet, nice one in the family. I don't remember her getting into trouble, but surely she did. How could anyone so nice be bad? Right after high school, I went with Dad to take her to Needmore to catch a bus to San Antonio, and she joined the Air Force. She was a WAC. She fell in love with a big, strong Yankee there, Bill Workman, and they got married. He was in the Air Force too. When their first son, Bob, was born, Bill shipped out to Korea for a year, and Jan stayed with us. Jan
liked to fish, so we went down toward the Hale Ford one day to fish in the slough. It came up a big rain, and her big car could not make it through all the mud puddles. I got out and pushed, then ran along behind and pushed some more, over and over, until we got to within 10 feet of the pavement, where we buried up for good. She got the best of me on another fishing trip. I found a hole in the creek full of Redhorses and suckers. I ran and got Jan. She said, “If you will run dig some worms, I'll wait here.” When I got back with the worms, Jan had already slipped the bare hook under their lips and caught all the fish.
     There is a good story in Bill Workman's family, too. It seems that, at the time of the American Revolution, England wanted the McMicken clan, his ancestors, to fight for the English. I've been told they were fierce horsemen. They did, and after the war they were rewarded with a grant of land in Canada. “The land is not much, kinda hilly, but it does have a waterfall.” Turns out it was the Canadian side of Niagara Falls. Bill's family divided and sold off the land over the decades, but Bill still grew up there.
     When I was visiting Bill's mother in a nursing home, a few years ago, she told me of life at Niagara Falls. She said, “I even saw the falls frozen solid once.” Well, she was pushing 100, so I kinda let that slide off. Later, I told a Canadian friend about that, and he said, “Well, it actually did. They had a landslide up stream, and already had so much ice on the river, it froze over.” Later, Barbara Lou sent me a picture of it. The year was 1911. That would mean Kay Workman was 2 at the time. Not many people around who also saw that! I regularly use the line, “Yeah, my family used to own Niagara Falls.”
     Barbara Lou must have taught me how to talk, finally, at three years old. I say that because my wife, Barbara Sue, constantly tells me I say words just like my sister. So I guess she did. Barbara was the nearest sister to me in age, 5 years apart, and we played together a lot. Barbara was a good basketball player, so we got to walk home from bus trips often. She also walked with me to watch other peoples' TVs at night. We finally did get our own.
Barbara Lou married Bill Arrington. He is a great guy too. He and I both liked sports, so we always found a game to play when they were here. They also raised a great group of kids. Barbara is the family garden grower. When we got to Barbara's house once, she took me to her garden to show me her prize tomato. It was beginning to turn red way early. I touched it and it fell off. After that, I stopped touching her prize plants. Barbara sent me a copy of her own Wing stories. It was neat reading it from her perspective. What I just had bare memories of, she told about in detail. At least, she finally admitted she caused me to get this hole in my head. At last, it is totally her fault that half my brains ran out with my blood!
48
A SEARS AND ROEBUCK FAMILY, LOCK, STOCK, AND BARREL
     One of the highlights of the year, maybe the major one, was the arrival of the giant new Sears and Roebuck catalog. The old one was formally relegated to paper doll duty and fueling the outhouse for the next year.
It was not enough that what few clothes we didn't make came from Sears, or that almost everything we bought, including baby chicks, came from the giant book. No, that’s not enough! Harold shipped his mink pelts there. My sisters spent many a hot summer afternoon, in the cool cellar, thumbing wishfully through the giant wish book.
     I learned today, for the first time, that the very house we lived in—where I was born—the only house I ever lived in until leaving for college in '62 was a 1920s era Kit House, ordered from, guess where? Yes!! You guessed it! Sears, Roebuck, and Company.
      This was not just a Wing thing. Far to the southeast, through Back Gate, deep in the Delta, my future wife, Barbara, was shooting to the pinnacle of Watson society, by arriving on the high school scene, sashaying in, wearing—guess what? Nothing less than the pants suit modeled on the cover of the current Sears and Roebuck catalog!
Now, you must understand the situation here. Barbara Sue doesn't remember how this came about. And the Good Lord knows, Verla Mae Dunnahoe never told me. She was a very strong woman of few words, and like my family, she had very little money. Sport and Verla Mae were raising seven children on 80 acres of cotton. Barbara would just never have asked for that pants suit. I'm sure there was never a conversation between the two about that. A woman of few words sees a lot. I'm sure she just noticed how long and hard Barbara looked at that catalog cover.  That strong woman just found a way, and the will, to make that happen. I'm sure it just showed up one day, probably on Barb's bed. I'm sure nothing was ever said about it later. Verla Mae Dunnahoe just did not operate like that.