Picking Cotton

Picking cotton
You could pack 70 or 80 pound in one of those 9-foot sacks but mine usually had less than that. They also made 12 footers but with my limited skills I had no use for one that big. I saw one in my cousins antique store recently and it had a metal ring sewn into the bottom corner. Most of us poor folks just put a large green cotton bole in the corner and wrapped a few strands of bailing wire around the outside of the sack to form a ring of sorts. When you weighed the cotton you placed the ring over the hook on the scales and doubled the sack up and wrapped the shoulder strap around the hook. We also found polk salad that had mature red berries and used the them to write our name on the sack.

We were usually in the fields just after sun up so we could get some work done before the hot part of the day. If we were picking a large field they would park the wagon in the middle of the field and we would go to the other end of the row and pick back to the wagon. In the early morning the dew was still on the cotton and we would put the sack in front of us so we could keep as dry as possible. The cotton in those days was very different than what you see today. Today's cotton has been genetically altered to produce very small stalks. The old cotton would sometimes be shoulder high and sometime in the good bottom land over your head. Thus the expression ------- in tall cotton. Speaking of that one of the first things you learned was never pick up a pile of cotton lying in the middle of the row.

When you wore the bottom of your sack out you just cut the strap part off and turned it over and patched the hole. I don't remember what a 9 foot sack cost but we were paid about 3 dollars for picking a hundred lb. of cotton and believe me you knew the value of a dollar. Picking cotton was a very serious thing for most families. A large part of the families cash money for the year was produced in just a few weeks.

My First Soda Pop

I think it was about 1947/48 when cash money first came into my life. Most of the things I had eaten up to this point was things that came out of our garden or had been grown on the farm or hunted. Now I am talking about the good things of life, a ‘cold RC Cola’ I highlighted those three words because I never heard it any other way. Things are a bit fuzzy from this far out but I think my Father was in town working, my big brothers were at school and Mom ran out of baking powder for her homemade biscuits, a real crisis.

Now you have to remember with 3 older brothers and 1 younger brother, being needed was sort of a shock, heck just being noticed was a novelty. Mother dug around and came up with the money for the baking powder. She said there would be a couple of pennies left over and I could spend them if I wanted to.

My mind was racing as I got ready for the big trip to the store. I headed out of the house with money tied up in a note in my pocket and lots of cautions and a big hug from Mom into one of the biggest adventures of my life, going to the store by myself. Mr. and Mrs. Hicks lived just down the road about a quarter of a mile and they had a dog I had to look out for. As I passed the Hicks house, Mrs. Hicks called from the porch and ask me where I was going. I stuck my chest out and proudly told her I was going to Mr. Pugh’s store for some baking powder for mother, thinking all the time how lucky I was that she was on the porch and would not let the dog bite me. She needed something from the store, I don’t remember what, and ask if I would pick it up for her.


When she brought the money out to me she said there would be a penny or two leftover and I could have it, life was getting better and better. I resumed my journey knowing that the real danger was just past the creek and across the road. There was a little dirt road that led up to the crazy mans house. I had never seen him but I had heard stories about the way that he treated his horses. I passed there in a dead run and made good time until I got to Mrs. Slayton’s house. I always called them Papa and Mrs. Slayton and knew them from church. Mrs. Slayton called out and ask me where I was going, she too needed something from the store and with her extra pennies I was getting rich.

As I passed the Gilmore house I began to realize just how big this trip was, the trees and bushes were growing right up to the road and I couldn’t see the end of it. After what seemed like hours I got to where I could see the store and knew I would make it. Mr. Pugh spoke to me as I opened the screen door and I gave him my notes. I had a look around while he filled the order, patiently waiting for the pennies I had earned and the real shopping to begin. I walked around the store for what seemed like forever. There was so much to choose from but my mind never left the ‘cold RC’ in water-cooled soda box. I looked at the Nehi Orange and Grapettes but the RC won out. I proudly, but with a little reluctance handed over my hard earned pennies. Mr. Pugh ask if I wanted help opening it and the next crisis began. I had just earned my first money and spent it on my first cold RC. Too much was going on in my head, if I drank it in the store, no one would know I even had it and if I took it home it would be hot and I just might have to share it with all my brothers. I decided on the latter and was thinking all the way home that I could be there before they got home from school and that Mrs. Slayton, Mrs. Hicks and Mom would see the fruits of my labor.

On the way back I came across a big black snake sunning itself in the middle of the road. The road was just a small dirt and gravel road not nearly big enough for the snake and me. I back tracked a ways and found a stick long enough to scare him off. I made my deliveries with the not so cold RC held proudly in one hand and hurried home, hoping to beat my brothers. Just as I was showing Mom the RC I hear my brothers coming through the field and as they filed into the kitchen Mom got out 5 glasses and opened my RC.

Growing Up in Rural Arkansas

My Childhood

Things get a little blurry viewed from a distance of 50 or 60 years and I don’t remember that many details but I will list some of the memories of living on the farm in the Owl City Community.

Dad and Mother bought about 80 acres of land in 1946-47 partly with money they had saved from his military service during World War II. The first memories of my childhood are of moving to that farm in the Owl City or the Pugh Community as some called it, just south of Hoxie, Arkansas. I have memory glimpses of the time we lived in the Lunsford Community in Craighead County, Arkansas, but I cannot say for sure if they are memories or stories I have heard. I remember a big truck filled with farm equipment and horses driving up and people walking around the truck looking at the horses and worrying about them being hurt. The house was somewhat of a disappointment to mother but dad was excited and explaining that it needed lots of work but it was ours. The idea of owning a farm and making a living on it was, I am sure, one of dad's dreams. The war was over, things were looking up and country life where you knew your neighbors and plenty of room to raise a family was a thought near and dear to many of the returning service men.

The house was a small wood frame and tar paper covered building with a kind of lean-to kitchen and no chimney in the front room. We had to run the stovepipe for the wood stove out the window until a more permanent arrangement could be built. I remember a front porch, not the ordinary kind but a square platform of boards. I think it served as a place to wipe the mud from your shoes before you entered the house and little else. The kitchen was very small and in it we had a wood cook stove, an old icebox, a meal chest and a home made table and chairs. On one side of the table was a long stool. The icebox was just that, not a refrigerator, we did not have electricity. The meal chest was a long rectangular box divided into two compartments and standing on four legs It was where mother kept her bread making material. On one side there was flour and the other side corn meal, baking powder, baking soda and dough roller. A dough board sits just above of the flour and meal boxes, kind of a sliding work board where she rolled the dough for biscuits and pies and made the corn bread.

We had a log barn out back for the livestock, which at that time was the horses and a milk cow or two, a few hogs and some chickens. This was farm life as they had known it and the whole family set in to make it work. I was about 4 or 5 years old at the time and not big enough to understand what was going on but I am sure the challenge of all this must have been overwhelming at times.


While mother set in to make the house livable, dad and my older brothers Donald, Bobby and Delbert set in to make the farm habitable, with Donald, the oldest being in charge of us younger ones. In order to have livestock they must have a place out of the bad weather, something to eat and a good supply of water. It must have been a huge task. The thing I remember most was cutting wood, a chore that was never ending. I won’t take credit for this during the first years, I was the little guy that sat on the log to keep it from moving in the saw horse, while they used a cross cut saw to cut it into lengths that fit the stove. This changed gradually as I grew older and the chores I was able to handle were increased.

Water

Water is a subject you seldom think about, you just turn on the left knob for hot and the right for cold and keeping a little water to prime the pump is not thought of. The reality of farm life was quite different. Using only a muscle driven pitcher pump, it does not take long to figure out that a family of 5, and growing, can use a lot of water. Add to this a couple of very large work horses, a few cows and hogs not to mention the chickens, dogs and other critters hanging around a farm. The only thing you can do to increase the water output other than pumping faster is to, keep the leather gasket in good working order and weld on a longer handle. The water supply is also critical and for people who have not seen the old hand pumps or seen a pump pipe hand driven a word of explanation may be in order. Driving a new pump is an expense that is best put off until all other remedies have been tried. Driving a pump today can cost anywhere from $500 up if you do all the work. One of the things I remember dad doing was called “shooting the pump”. Now here was a thing I could agree with him on. During the very long hours of pumping I had day dreamed all the dreams a young child who had never been anywhere but to a country church and a few trips into town, could dream. After all the dreaming a slow hatred builds up and all my thoughts were on the pump. I had never shot dad's gun but I was willing to learn on the pump.

I am sure dad thought long and hard and talked to his friends and neighbors before shooting the pump. When a pump is driven, the part that penetrates the ground is a sharp pointed and hollow cone shaped cylinder called a drive point. The old drive points were usually brass or galvanized steel with small slits in the sides to allow the water to seep into the pipe. The galvanized steel points were known to rust and clog up and not allow the water to enter the pipe. Using a 22 rifle to shoot the point and loosen the rust would sometimes open the slits and allow the water to flow into the pipe from the under ground aquifer. If you used too large a caliber bullet the end of the drive point could be blown off and the pump was worthless and hauling all the water to keep a farm going was not possible. Using his Remington 22 rifle and with all the children standing well back from the danger, dad successfully shot the pump.

2006 Run About in Arkansas

In May 2006 my brother Ray and I took a runabout through part of Arkansas and down to Mississippi, visiting and just having fun spending time together. On my way back to Fayetteville I took the long way home and visited a couple of my Mother's ancestral cemeteries.

Forrest Chapel Church and Cemetery founded by my Great Grand Parents Washington T. and Nancy 'Cook' Forrest (Link to Lane-Collier Cousins Web Page)

Interior of church

Marker for Washington T. and Nancy J. 'Cook' Forrest, founders of Forrest Chapel and my Great Grandparents.

View off Hwy. 65 south of Harrison, Arkansas

On Hwy. 65 south of Harrison, Arkansas

link to Lane-Collier Cousins Dobbs Genealogy
Barren Fork Cemetery, Mt. Pleasant, Izard Co, AR
We have almost no records of my great Grand Mother Mary Ann McSpadden. I do know she married John Ira McMillon Dobbs October 02, 1870, I found a copy of their marriage license in the Arkansas History Center in Little Rock, Ar. Mary Ann was born July 31, 1844 in Warren county, Tennessee and died July 13, 1885.

Barren Fork Cemetery, Mt. Pleasant, Izard Co, AR
The new marker above must have been placed on her grave to replace the old worn markers.

Barren Fork Cemetery, Mt. Pleasant, Izard Co, AR
This is the Grave Stone for Lucy McSpadden, first cousin to my grandmother. There was a picture of Lucy in the box of pictures my mother had. I saw the picture many times when I was growing up and I never knew anything about her until I found her grave marker. She was a very pretty girl and died at the very young age of 25.

2007 Reunion of Charles and Mannie Lane Family

That Happy time is just around the corner when we cook up a mess of good food, round up the children and head for Newport, Arkansas. The reunion of Charles and Mannie Lane's family will be the Sunday September 9, 2007 this year and as always I am looking forward to seeing everyone.

Most of you know that one of my interests is preserving the family history by gathering genealogical information and stories about those of us living and those who have gone on before us. A year or so ago I mentioned in one of the NewsLetters that I thought it important to write some of our memories down so the younger generations could know a little about those we loved so dearly and get a small view of the world we grew up in. To stress the magnitude of trying to understand this big wonderful family of ours I recently attempted to count the direct descendants of Richard and Mannie Lane. Using the information Harriet Lane and I have gathered over the years and with the full knowledge that the family is a living and growing thing I counted 305 direct descendants and this is just the ones I have record of. This is not the true count of the family because I counted only the direct descendants of Charles and Mannie and it does not include the spouses who are as much family as those who were born into it.

Over the years I have jotted down a few memories and in this issue of the Lane/Layne, Westbrook and Williams Family NewsLetter I will share some of it with you.

Memories of Thurman Dwight Lane

I suppose I should start by saying my name is Thurman Dwight Lane. I was told that grand mother Mannie Lane named me Dwight after some radio soap opera guy that she liked, maybe it was the Thurman part, anyway that is what I wound up with. I was also told just about every 4th day of March for 51 years, that it snowed on the day of my birth. I would always ask mother to tell me about it and she had the story down pat. “We were living in a little shotgun house near Bay, Arkansas and Mrs. Lane and Mrs. Settlemire were there to help me. We were going to plant potatoes the next day and spent the evening eyeing the seed potatoes. We had them on the kitchen table when we went to bed and during the night it turned cold and snowed. The seed potatoes froze and they were ruined and we had to give them to the hogs. You were born that morning.” My journey began.

Writing these few thoughts down has given me time to reflect back and savor some of my early memories. I will say one thing at the very beginning. These are my memories and with the exception of the genealogy part, which has been lovingly researched, they are just that, memories.

Sarah Willyne, Vaughn Franklin and Ida Marie Collier about 1921

Family of Sarah Willyne 'Collier' Layne

Information on the early years of mother’s family is hard to find and to get an over all view I have had to rely on small bits of information from several sources.

My mother Sarah Willyne Collier Lane was born Sept 17, 1913 daughter of Joseph “Joe” Franklin Collier and Ada “Addie” Ethel Dobbs. Both grandparents were twins. Joseph or “Jodie” as his mother called him had a twin sister named Josie and married Addie whose twin sister was named Ida.

Grandfather Joseph was born January 17, 1885 in Izard County, Arkansas and grandmother Ada was born July 17, 1879 in Izard County, Arkansas. I don’t know all the places grandfather lived in Izard County but Sage was the place mentioned the most. Grandmother’s family lived in Barren Fork, (after 1917 it was called Mt. Pleasant), the Dry Town area and according to the diary of grandmother’s aunt Elizabeth J. Rudolph McSpadden, “Oct. 15, 1907 moved to Calico Rock”, all in Izard County, Arkansas.

Grandfather Joseph had the measles sometime around 19 or 20 years old and began loosing his eye site. I have had several people including a couple of Doctors tell me that this was probably not the reason he lost his eye sight but this is the way I always heard the story. He was able to work and the early job I remember hearing about most was driving a freight wagon for the merchants in Melbourne, Izard County, Arkansas. I think most of the trips were from the river landing at Guion to Melbourne both in Izard County. Sometime around the turn of last century Joseph and mother Sarah Francis Forrest Collier moved to Tuckerman in Jackson, County, where most of the work was farming. It was here where his mother Sarah Frances Forrest Collier was killed. This part of my memory is very fuzzy but the story as I remember grandpa Joe telling it was that he was in Newport, Arkansas when he heard the news of his mother’s death and ran and walked all the way back to Tuckerman using the railroad track. He was told that his mother was across the tracks from their home and saw the hogs in her garden. She hurried back over the tracks and didn’t hear the train and was struck and killed. I can not find the records of her death.

Ida Effie, Winfred and Ada Ethel 'Addie' Dobbs. The girls are twins about 16 years old.


Grandmother Addie died when mother was about 15 and I only heard stories of her. One thing I remember mother talking about was how grandmother Addie loved music and played the
Organ. Elizabeth J. Rudolph McSpadden was grandmother Addie’s aunt from the McSpadden side of the family. Elizabeth kept a daily journal and two books survived. In the entry for Feb. 3, 1900: “Mack Dobbs got them an Organ.” Mack Dobbs (John Ira McMellon Dobbs) was Addie Dobbs father and my great grandfather. In the days when getting a new dress could start with planting cotton and a new carpet started with raising sheep, buying an organ must have been a major expense. I don't know if this Organ was the one Mother remembered so fondly but it could be.

Grandpa Joe did remarry briefly, I never met her and only know her name, Lizzie Grimes, from records I found in Izard County. Joe lived with his daughter Ida Marie “Bea” Collier and they lived close to us most of the time. My childhood memories almost always have grandpa and Aunt Bea in them somewhere.



Joseph Franklin 'Joe' Collier

When I first started looking into the genealogy of my family I wrote down a few things about Grandpa Joe and kind of folded it up and set it aside. When I look at that writing now I realize it was all about jokes and pranks we pulled on him. He may not have been as fond of us as we thought, he may just wanted us close so he could “keep an eye on us”, (one of his expressions).



CHRISTMAS PRESENT



My early memories of Grandpa Joe start about 1948 or 1949 when I was about 4 or 5 years old. Dad had bought a small farm just south of Hoxie, Arkansas in the Pugh community, sometimes called Owl City community. Joe and Aunt Bea still lived near Lake City, Arkansas and would visit us now and then. I never knew how they got there, one day I would look down the old gravel road and there they were waving and smiling. One year they visited at Christmas and after all the hugging and stories about the trip had died down he got his bag of presents out and passed them around. Mine was a toy gun and I thought it was the best present in the world, later when we were along for a few minutes he gave me another toy gun and told me it was a special present just for me. Looking back I have a suspicion he did that for all my brothers just to make us feel special but I still think I was his favorite.

JOE-FER-SHORT

We moved to Hoxie, Arkansas in 1949 and around that time Joe and Aunt Bea moved there from Lake City. Joe at this time had lost most of his eyesight. This didn’t keep him from getting around. One story I remember hearing was about the nickname Joe-fer-short. He would hang around the service station where my Dad and Uncle worked. When he introduced himself he would say his name was Joseph Collier but you could call him Joe for short. Some of the people started calling him Joe-fer-short, one word.





PICKING COTTON

Even with his very limited eyesight Joe still tried to do the work and chores he had always done. Picking cotton was not only a way to pick up extra money but essential for most people to make a living. Joe had a pick sack that had been worn out, patched, turned over and worn out again. It had a big hole where the patch had came loose and I would pick cotton next to him and sneak cotton out of the hole and put it in my sack. Picking cotton is hard work and something I hated. I thought I had got away with this until one day, shortly before his death, we were talking about all the trouble I used to get into for not picking enough cotton. He said he thought that what I picked and what I got out of his sack should have been enough.

WATCHING RADIO

Grandpa Joe and Aunt Bea lived just south of Hoxie, Arkansas on my Uncle Vaughn’s farm in the very early 50s. I used to spend the night with him and we watched the radio. We would pull our chairs up in front of the radio and watch it as we listened to our favorite show. The radio was not as simple as it is today. It all depended how good your battery was, no electricity, and what station you wanted to listen to. We liked to listen to The Louisiana Hay Ride out of Shreveport, Louisiana and this required the antenna to be strung up just right. I would climb a tree and stretch it out as high as I could get it. To listen to The Grand OLE Opera I had to hang it from another tree so it would be facing the right way. One of grandpa’s favorite groups on the Grand OLE Opera was The Chuck Wagon Gang. We liked them all. The Louisiana Hayride was harder to get and most times it would fade in and out. We also watched the Lone Ranger, Amos and Andy and all the old great ones.

CHOPPING WOOD

With Grandpa’s poor eyesight, let me say you just didn’t want to be around while he was chopping wood.

MILKING COWS

Grandpa loved to try to do the things he did as a younger man. We lived on a farm just west of Hoxie, Arkansas in 1955 and 1956. Grandpa and Aunt Bea lived in our house in town with Uncle Vaughn and his family. Grandpa would visit the farm and try to help with the chores. One afternoon we were milking the cows and had the young calves in a holding pen waiting very impatiently for their turn. Grandpa was standing in the doorway and we turned the calves in without telling him. The first calf ran between his legs and he rode him without knowing what it was or what was happening. I’m sure there were times when he wanted to use that cane of his in our upbringing.


Grand Pa's Pipe
Grandpa loved to smoke a pipe and always had a favorite one. One day I decided to surprise him and clean them. I used my knife and dug and cut all the old dark stuff out and made them clean as new. Of course they were ruined but he never said a thing. I only knew about the damage that I had inflicted when Dad told me sometimes later.

COLD RC

I spent a lot of time in my childhood with Grandpa. From the time I started to school, it seems grandpa and aunt Bea lived close to us. I went by his house most afternoons after school. Many of these times I was rewarded with a COLD RC. I thought that was their name, not just RC COLA. On a really good day it was a COLD RC and a Jackson Sugar Cookie out of the big glass jar at the store. I still love a COLD RC and a Jackson Sugar Cookie.

FOURTH OF JULY

The fourth of July was always a good time for grandpa. He liked to go to the Portia Picnic at Portia, Arkansas. People from all over would attend the get together. He would find a good shady spot and spend the day visiting with old friends and listening to the politicians speak.

Charles Richard Lane

Father’s Family, Arthur, Albert, Floyd, George, Luther, Cledith and Charles Richard Lane seated.

My father, Luther Delbert Layne was born June 21, 1911 the son of Charles Richard Lane and Mannie Lee Vance. Grandfather Charles Richard Lane was born September 16, 1871 at Evening Shade, Sharp County, Arkansas. Grandmother Mannie Lee Vance was born September 4, 1882 at Maxville, Sharp County, Arkansas.

The following was taken from article in the Batesville Guard News Paper, written by Myrtle Pauline Lane Williams and daughter Carolyn:, “Dick Lane started working around mills while still a young boy. Soon he could handle any job at a mill, and he traveled over the area to help different owners. He worked at the famed Thompson Mill at Evening Shade, 'later identified with the Sharp, Medley, Metcalf, Smith, Edwards, Wolf, Hanford and perhaps other families.
Dick and Mannie at one time made their home on the Medley Place, where Deer Run Park is located today, south of Evening Shade, Arkansas. Later they moved to Poughkeepsie, Arkansas, where they lived on the Joe Doss Place. While living there, Dick worked at the George Jones Mill at Push. The Jones Mill was powered by a steam boiler and engine, and included a sawmill, gristmill and cotton gin. Dick remained at the Jones Mill until the coming of the depression in 1930 made work scarce. He then moved his family to Grubbs, Arkansas to pick cotton.”
The 1930 Federal Census for Sharp County, Arkansas taken on April 19, 1930 list Richard, Mannie and children Luther, Cledith, Rozella (Ozella), Pauline and George H. living a couple of houses from the George Jones family.
Arthur, Dessie and Arthur Jr. Lane were living in Trumann, Poinsett County, Arkansas when the census was counted on April 19, 1930. Their next door neighbor was Dessie's mother Leona Akins and brother Elmo and family, wife Mary and children Melburn and LaWanda. Arthur was working at a lumber mill,(Singer?). This may help explain the reason Richard and Mannie later moved to Trumann.


Mannie Lee 'Vance' Lane

Grandfather Lane died when I was about 19 years old and Grandmother Lane died when I was 16. To say I remember them need clarification. I have very few memories before 1947-48 when we moved to the Owl City farm just south of Hoxie, Arkansas. I do remember them visiting us at the farm but very little else. I also remember going to their home in Trumann and a few times and visiting uncles and aunts and cousins while they were there. This may have been the forerunner of what we call the Lane Reunion we celebrate today. I would also say that if you ask any of the young and very young children attending our annual reunion about grandparents, their answer would be similar to what mine would have been. A quick hug, a pat on the head and off to visit the cousins. We got a big hug and kiss from Grandma Lane with a little snuff thrown in for good measure. I don’t have any memory of close contact with Grandfather Lane. He did live with us for a while after Grandmother Lane’s death. If I remember it correctly he stayed for a while with each of his children.

Grandfather and Grandmother Lane were living in Trumann, Poinsett County, Arkansas when I grew old enough to remember them. I do remember them living in what I would call a shotgun house. It was very characteristic of the area and times with clapboard siding and a living room, bedroom and kitchen lined up in a row. The story I heard was if you pointed a shotgun in the front door of a “Shotgun House” and fired it, the pellets would go through the house and not hit anything. They had a small garden out back and an outdoor toilet. A couple of things stand out in my mind, one was they heated the house with a big coal burning, pot bellied stove. This was unusual to me because we always lived on a farm and burned wood. The coal seemed like a great idea, you just called the coal man and he delivered. I think most of my young memories had sawing, chopping or hauling wood in them. It was an every day thing, more on wood later. The other thing was the big clock. I can’t visualize it but I remember very well Grandfather Lane winding it and the sound it made.

The real fun part of visiting my grandparents in Trumann was visiting cousins. Uncle Arthur and aunt Dessie Lane and Uncle George and Aunt Bea Lane lived down the street.