"I'll Never Look Back"

Two weeks following my high school graduation I had finished the farm work of "laying by the crops," which meant there would be very little farm work until harvest time in the fall. I was determined to leave to pursue a college education.

A few days before my departure my father was urging me to stay on the farm. "You could have that East forty acres. We can build you a small house then you and Mamie can get married...," he went on encouragingly. "No, no not that, Dad, I'm going to college," I declared. "College, Eh? Why, you'll starve to death. How are you going to pay for college?" My father asked.

"I don't really know, but where there is a will there is a way," I answered. "Dad, I'll promise you this, I'm going to get a college education. I'm not sure how, or when I'll finish but one thing is certain, I won't ask you for a penny and won't be home until I have a college degree!"

"Humph! Ugh!" Was all my dad could say. The following morning my father went to town shopping. I announced to my older sister I was leaving. I had a cardboard box packed with all my clothing which consisted of one pair of new Levi overalls valued at 75¢, one shirt at 50¢, one tie for 50¢, and one pair of shocks at 25¢. Oh yes, a new pair of shoes I had purchased from the $6.00 my brothers had sent me for graduation. I had 50 cents cash on hand in my pocket.

My oldest sister had a sack lunch ready for me as I departed. I was so very lonely. I was so badly beaten that I could not face my dear mother to say good-bye.

I set out on foot to Highway 66 one mile North. That hard lump in my throat just wouldn't go away! I struck my toe on an exposed black jack tree root and tumbled into the ditch alongside the winding bushy trail!

I'll never look back, I promised myself while I arose from my fall. Oh well, there will be set-backs I muttered, but I must get to the highway . My memory flashed back to a few years before--my brothers and sisters would be running along this lonesome trail with me so we could see a car as it passed by. Run a mile to see a car??? Now I'd run a mile to escape seeing cars.

When I reached old 66 Highway I was puzzled which direction to go. I decided it would make no difference as long as I could hitch a ride. I switched from one side of the highway to the other depending on which direction the on-coming car was travelling. My thumb worked! A car heading east to Okemah stopped for me. By noon I was in Okemah where my Aunt Frances lived. I went to her and and asked to stay while I looked for work.

A week later I had found no work, so I went back to the highway. This time the pick-up car took me to Oklahoma City over seventy-five miles to the West. We passed within a mile of my home and I swallowed hard several times as I passed the highway and trail intersection where I had been picked up a week before. I wanted to go home, but I'll never look back!

When we arrived in Oklahoma City I still had my 50 cents. I went to my Aunt Pearl and Uncle Bert's home. Again I asked if I could stay while looking for work. Of course that Oklahoma hospitality could not refuse me--or any other waif for that matter! The next day I answered an ad which read "Candy Shop wants young man, sweet work, all the candy and sweets you can handle. $1 per day. Meet me at Shop at 7 a.m."

Okay, I had a job! I called my aunt to say I would be at her home after closing at 7 o'clock that night.

The Candy Shop owner was right about all the candy you can eat and the sweat rolled off my hot body like raindrops. The candy was near pure sugar except the peanut round cakes. Even they were too sweet! Twelve hours a day, six days a week for two weeks netted me $12. At the end of two weeks, I searched for easier work, shorter hours and more pay.

The Help Wanted Column read, "Harvest hands needed in Enid. $6-8 per day and all meals. Come to Enid Court House."

When Monday morning arrived on June 20, 1926 I was at the Oklahoma City bus station with $8. The bus fare would be $6, an all-day ride. That sounds good to me, but the bus wouldn't leave for another two hours. During that time I was scanning the Help Wanted bulletin board posted at the bus terminal. Many jobs were being offered for wheat harvest hands. A man, 32 years old, was searching the board with me when he suddenly announced that he and his wife were leaving immediately for the harvest fields in his Ford pickup.

"There is room for you too," he declared. "Besides we can share expenses and save money! Let's go!" As we approached the vehicle I noticed there was no top on the car but plenty of room in the pickup bed.

"This here is my wife," he announced as he introduced me to a sixteen year old sandy-haired, freckled-faced girl. "Wife?" I said. "Yeah, we were married three days ago. We will beat that bus to Enid and have money left for food," he chattered.

I was a bit dubious, still that seemed a likely possibility with a two hour head start. All went well until we came to the banks of the sandy Ammeron River. Half-way across that brick-red, sandy, deep rutted roadway, Old Lizzie suddenly jerked and stopped. We began a grave-like sinking, a sandy watery descent. Having had previous experiences with sinking sand and its powerful suction power, I quickly jumped from the vehicle. The vehicle was not the first one to meet this terrible fate as the appearance of many scattered sticks, poles, and gunny sacks attested to prior ordeals.

"Just let her sink," I advised. "The more we try and the more the vehicle is moved, the deeper it will go!" That watery grave looked dismal indeed! The bus passed around us after we had been stuck about an hour. "What can we do?" each of us asked. The scorching noon-day sun beat down upon us mercilessly. Heat waves were dancing in the red sand. We were stuck and alone! No one in sight, no telephone to call for help. Two hours had passed when a flatbed truck appeared on the scene headed in the opposite direction.

"May as well leave it there," the driver declared. "But it's all we got! We have to get to the harvest fields for work." The 32 year old man was pleading.

"Well, fer five dollars, I'll hitch er on my dual wheel and try. Maybe with a long rope I kin keep my truck on dry sand an pull er out fer ye. Don't rock that there thing or she'll sink out of sight!" Twenty minutes later we were on dry dirt roads again.

Our luck didn't hold. At 2:30 the left front tire suddenly exploded. "We will have her patched and back on in minutes," the young wife announced. It was amazing how quickly the old patch had been fitted to the inner tube. Now the hand operated tire pump would have to be oiled and we would take turns pumping air into the repaired tire.

We had not finished that set back very long when the black clouds began to gather in the Southwest. We braced for the onslaught of that monsoon-like shower that came and went in fast order. The dust was settled. We had seen lightning strike a nearby tree standing on a hill like a sentinel watchman. The thunder roared, but we were safe for the moment.

Towns were very small and far apart, at least far apart for that mode of travel. Our food consisted of the sack lunches we had before leaving the city. The afternoon hours wore along slowly as we gradually drove toward Enid. At dusk we spotted a pasture gate. The road inside lead to a farm house to which we went. The kind farmer allowed us to camp that night in a nearby cluster of trees. "I don't want to be under or near a single tree," I snorted.

"You can sleep on that little slope then at the edge of the creek. We will sleep under the pickup just in case it rains some more." Rain some more it did!

A gunny sack filled with dry straw was by bed. I was lucky to be on a slope. While watching the dancing lightning streaking the sky, I realized the rain would soon be drenching me. The rolling thunder sounds became louder as the storm approached. I had dug a shallow trench in the dirt alongside my bed and waited. This time the shower came with a two-fold striking power. Wind and hail pelted me. I used my cardboard box to protect my head. The newly-wed couple were high and dry in their blankets underneath the car.

When morning arrived the storm had passed. The morning sun soon dried my rain soaked bed. We had a Boston style breakfast. This consisted of eating sun dried apples and drinking water. For lunch we allowed the dried apples to swell to cheat hunger.

We arrived at Enid courthouse after dark on the second day of our trip, broke emotionally and financially. The old car burned more oil and gas than had been planned. All the tires had blown out and new inner tubes were purchased. All three of us had spent all our money.

Farmers were waiting, looking for help. When one farmer spotted the dilapidated car with only one tire inflated he ordered the young man to leave it. "I can use you two men in the field and the girl here can help my wife in the kitchen. Come get into my pickup so we can get supper and some sleep before daylight."

Turning to me he said, "You are a little mite, ain't you? How much do you weigh?"

"A hundred and twenty pounds," I answered. "Well damn, them wheat bundles weigh that much! How do you think you can run a threshing wagon and team? Do you know how to harness and drive a team?"

"Oh yes," I answered.

I slept well on the straw bed in the barn's hayloft. It was warm and dry. At daylight I heard sounds and jumped from my bed still fully clothed as had been the case the last two mornings. Speaking to me the farmer ordered, "Prague Boy, you harness that team," as he pointed to a pair of mules. In short time the mules had been harnessed. "Now lets get breakfast. We want to get an early start before the winds come up. Weather forecasts windy hot days, eat up now, there's plenty of food!"

The threshing crew assembled around the long table. Everything was served family style. "You have to eat plenty if you work hard," one of the men was saying.

"The women will bring us lemonade and sandwiches about 10 o'clock, but eat all you want," the farmer said. That was welcome news because the last two days had been very short on rations with little or no choices.

"Prague Boy--that's your team you harnessed. Now hitch em to that wagon." Those mules seemed well mannered enough for being mules, but their show was put on suddenly. As soon as I was aboard the wheat harvest wagon and had the reins in my hands those beasts bolted through the open gate in a dead run! Fortunately the fence had been cleared. We were now in the open field. Since I had been raised on a farm and knew how to handle runaway animals I lodged my self at the bottom of the wide wheat harvest wagon. With a firm grip I pulled the right hand line strongly forcing the runaways into a circle which was gradually diminishing till the team came to a stop. Then they were tired enough to behave normally. As the runaways were controlled and my team fell in line with the other teams, we formed a train to the threshing area.

My buddy of the past two days smiled at me while I was circling the runaways, then he shouted, "That's it, Little but Mighty! You showed them whose boss!"

After the 10 o'clock snack the wind started strong and gusty. When I approached the threshing rig the other drivers would crowd in and cut me off from the windward side. This resulted in me having to pitch the heavy wheat bundles against the heavy wind. I tried my best to get on the side to have the wind aid me but it seemed for one reason or another I was always pitching against the gusty wind.

We all had an hour lunch break. The huge lunch time meal was again spread on a long table family style. There wasn't much time for rest but the break and food was relaxing. We had another lemonade and sandwich snack at 3:30 p.m. "We will thresh till dark," the farmer announced. "With that wind blowing like this it can bring rain anytime. I want to get my wheat harvested before another storm."

Needless to say I slept well after the late supper. Again my morning chore was to harness that runaway mule team, then breakfast. Only this time, after breakfast the farmer stretched out his hand and presented me with eight one-dollar bills. "You are okay but life isn't fair to you! You will find a better job."

So it was! I had $8 once more. With gunny sack over my shoulder I walked to the highway. I had not gone far until a car stopped for me. A friendly lady and her pretty daughter of 17 smiled and asked if I wanted a ride. "Yes, yes please" I answered. I told them of my experience the last few days. "Oh we know some one that has had machinery problems. He is our neighbor. I think you can get a job there!"

"That's encouraging. I'll certainly inquire. Thanks for the lift and job assist!"

When I found this farmer in the wheat field he was at the threshing machine. "Yes, I have a crew all hired, but maybe we could find something for you. We are going to make a test run this afternoon. We have been delayed but hope to get a morning start again and finish before a storm!"

"Can I stay then till morning? I'll sleep in the hay loft. Maybe I can help in some way to earn my meals and lodging."

When I arrived back at the farmer's house I was met by two boys, one just a bit younger than me and the other two years younger. They were excited that I would be around. When the first load of freshly threshed wheat arrived at the granary all three of us boys were on spot, eager to see the new wheat kernels which would later be someone's whole wheat bread.

We all pitched in scooping the grain from the wagon into the granary. At chore time I joined the two boys with the evening chores which included feeding hogs and feeding and milking cows.

We hit it off immediately. After the hearty evening meal I retired to my hay loft bunk. The other harvest hands were scattered throughout the musty hay barn. These harvest hands were usually very quiet. The hard work caused them to welcome sleep and rest.

The storm that had been predicted hit that night. The sky was light with chain and flash lightning with each flash followed by thunder that shook the buildings. Then the rain and hail came in sheets as the strong wind toppled the shocked wheat mounds. "Oh!" I cried, "that will end my job!"

As expected when morning came and breakfast had been served the disappointed farmer announced "There will be no more threshing for a week. You all may go to town."

Several of the workmen shouted, "Not just to town, we are going farther North. We want to follow the harvest into Kansas. It's about all over here anyway."

I was scared and disappointed. While the truck was being loaded with men to take them to town, I quietly asked the farmer if I could stay. I promised to help with chores. I had no money to pay lodging or meals for a week. My new found friends joined in with my request, begging their Dad to let me stay. He agreed.

Only one other worker remained. He was known as "Tennessee" he slept most of the time but didn't miss a meal. After a few days the weather turned warm and windy. The previously shocked grain had been toppled by wind and soaked by rain water but had dried out enough to be shocked. The owner came to me and Tennessee and asked if we would care to go to the wheat fields with him to reshock the storm-toppled grain. I said I would but Tennessee said, "Oh no, not me!"

"Then get yourself out of here," the farmer ordered. "Kin you take me to town Mr. Farmer?"

"No, you freeloader. You walk. If you are lucky someone will give you a ride. You leave this minute!" the farmer ordered. "Come on boys, lets get into the grain fields! We will place the wheat bundles with heads up so the will dry quickly."

Three days went by quickly during our shock repair from storm damage. On Saturday afternoon my two young friends and I were cleaning the front yard. I spied poppy plants! I asked, "Oh, do you use the poppy seed to sprinkle on Kolachees?" Kolachees are sweet rolls, a favorite of Bohemian people. They are made from a special flour then fruits such as prunes, apricots, apples and berries are placed in the center of the cinnamon roll like roll with poppy seed on top just before baking. They are a delicious treat.

The two boys' mother popped out the front door and began questioning me. What do you know about Kolachees? Where did you learn about them? Do you like them? What else do you know about the Bohemians?

"Well, Mrs. Valasak, I grew up near Prague, Oklahoma which is named after Prague (Praha) Czechoslovakia. I had neighbors and school mates who taught me some of their language." Then I counted from 1 to 100 in their native language and cited a few common phrases. "So you like our food?" Mrs. Valasak was beaming with excitement and pleasant expectation.

At supper time delicious Kolachees appeared on the table along with Polish sausage and sauerkraut! Wow, was that food good! I ate heartily and complemented the mother on her cooking.

When bed time came my two buddies and their mother arrived at my hayloft bedroom. "You won't need to sleep down here anymore. Come on to the house. We have a room with a feather bed for you. You are like a member of our family now!"

For the remainder of the threshing season of about three weeks where ever we went I was provided with bedding (feather bed mattress) and covers. Meals were included.

At the end of the harvest, Mr. Valasak called me to a table in their modest home. He began, "I have your money for you. In addition to the six dollars a day for each full day's work, I'm giving you a twenty five dollar bonus because you are the only harvest hand that stayed with us from start to finish. Then you willingly helped reshock the storm-damaged grain. So I'm giving you an extra fifteen dollars for that."

"That's forty dollars more than I expected. I'm so happy! You have helped me toward my dream to go to college! Thank you very much!"

My two young friends and their mother bade me good-bye in their friendly way and wished me good luck with the encouragement, "You will be great some day. We will see your name in the news!

© Copyright 1997 Harold Wm. Wood

This page is maintained by Dr. Wood's son, Harold W. Wood, Jr., of Visalia, California.
My E-mail address is: harold@planetaryexploration.net

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