Miscellaneous

The four-year-old watched it all insilence. One evening before
supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the
floor he asked the child sweetly, "What are you making?"
Just as sweetly, the boy responded, "Oh, I am making a little bowl
for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up."
The four-year-old smiled and went back to work. The words so
struck the parents that they were speechless. Then tears started to
stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what
must be done. That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and
gently led him back to the family table. For the remainder of his
days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither
husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped,
milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.

Submitted by Jean Brand

Dear Ancestor

Your tombstone stands among the rest;
Neglected and alone.
The name and date are chiseled out
On polished, marbled stone.
It reaches out to all who care
It is too late to mourn.
You did not know that I exist
You died and I was born.
Yet each of us are cells of you
In flesh, in blood, in bone.
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse
Entirely not our own.
Dear Ancestor, the place you filled
One hundred years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
Who would have loved you so.
I wonder if you lived and loved,
I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot,
And come to visit you.>
--Author Unknown
Submitted by Carolyn Byrum

"Our dead are greater and more truly alive than we are!
when we forget them, it is our whole fortune that we lose sight of:
And when we fail in respect to them,
It is our own immortal soul that we are trampling under our feet."
Maurice Masterlinck

"Both justice and decency require that we should bestow on our
Forefathers an honorable mention."
Thucydides

"In horses - or men, boys, believe me or not, not pedigree counts if
the colt doesn't trot."
S. Omar Barker

"After working on branches," said one witty chap,
I have placed myself in this tree as a Sap!
to me, it was true, the story he told,
For I have thought of myself as a "Sap" growing old!
These thoughts have others, but - say! do you know
That a tree without "Sap" cannot hope to grow?
A request I am making - and including YOU,
To help with this search as other "Saps" do
Go into libraries, courthouses, and such
In the hope that You and Your Tree can add more.
Let us not let the "Branches" of this tree turn brown
As other trees do when their SAP has run down,
For in each branch and twig some "sap" must run free
To make of this "Sapling" a "Big Family Tree"!

Taken from THE CASWELL FAMILY TREE a book loaned to me by my sister
Linda Mackey Parrish
submitted by Carolyn Mackey Byrum

"OklahomaGraveyard"

Old sorrows, sudden joys lie buried here,
In sterile tombs beneath December sun.
Clad now in dry, dun needle grass
With leaning headstones weathered grey,
The dead lie still like children weaned,
Their worries, pain, and sharp desire all put away.
An Osage mound here testifies
Of dying warriors passed unseen.
Gaunt cowboys rest in unmarked graves,
And Uncle John held fast between
Two brides sighs, "Pity me on Resurrection Day."
Near Blanche McClure, her sharp tongue still at last
Lies Sam McClure, now thankfully at rest.
(A good man's steps are ordered by the Lord;
Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down.)
And here lies Mary Hughs, struck down by cyclone blast:
"Blessed are the pure in heart; for they'll see God."

They're all encoffined here, in dry red earth,
Awaiting. . . what?
"The Resurrection," Mary Hughs would say,
"Christ, the Resurrection and the Life."
But Uncle John would vote for "Spring."
Yes,  Spring to warm these cold white bones
Imprisoned in the clay.
For wine cups, prairie phlox, and rose vervain,
For mourning dove and meadow lark to call again,
With mocking birds, and timid whippoorwill.
Warm gulf winds shall cross the Washita and find this field.
But now, the north wind, restless, cold and dry;
Sobs old secrets here beneath blue sky,
Moans through bare oak and cedar boughs,
Lamenting barren lives
and broken vows.

An original poem by KathrynThompson Presley
Published in  Milking Time
See Mrs. Presley's Klondike page

"Country Baptizing"

Cicadas hum in the cottonwood trees,
Dragonflies dart above the creek.
The August sun beams down like Shekinah glory.
A shining emblem of the majesty we seek.
Our brothers and sisters stand in the shade,
Singing, "Shall We Gather at the River."
In pecan trees, upstream, a rowdy crow's caucus,
Gives background music to our hymns of faith.
("Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me.")
Then, Preacher in white shirt, blue jeans, and wading boots,
Divides the still brown water, lifts holy hands to bless,
Calling contrite sinners to be clothed in righteousness.
(Now we, once lost, are found; once blinded,  now we see.)
He grasps myhead with hands of steel, declaring truth;
And I submit, a trembling leap of faith,
To Jehovah Jireh.
(My eyes shut out the day--
Recalling cottonmouths,
Seen here just yesterday!)

An original poem by KathrynThompson Presley
Published in  Milking Time
See Mrs. Presley's Klondike page

SOME MORE HERITAGE GONE
By Mrs. John Wright

   My Soldier Brother
by Lorene Lynn
Till My Husband Comes Home
by Winifred Welcher Lynn

submitted by Marsha Miller

Son's gift keeps Mother's Day tradition alive

By Carla Gillogly-Torres The Daily News Published May 13, 2001

A mother's bond with her child goes far beyond words. Far beyond whatany family picture will show. Far beyond what any mother can explain.
The bond from birth is never-ending. Paula Gross of Galveston knows that bond. Gross is aretired teacher of 32 years.
She taught at Island School before it was demolished and rebuilt as Parker Elementary. Sheis the mother of one son, Terry.
Terry was the only child of Paula and Wiley Gross. He grew up in Galveston and went on tograduate from the University of Texas with
a degree in architectural engineering. That was Paula's fondest memory of Terry. When hereceived his degree in engineering,
she said she knew that he was ready to go out into the world. He went to work with Brown& Root and was assigned to Vietnam.
After Vietnam, Terry started his own company and spent much of his time traveling aroundthe world. However, the one thing
Terry always made sure of was flowers for Mother's Day. Wherever he was, he always madesure his mom had plenty of flowers.
Terry returned home from Saudi Arabia after his father became ill with cancer. When hisfather died, he stayed with his mother
to help with the house and other details. One of the things he did was to completelylandscape the backyard.
He took an interest in landscaping along with fishing and golfing. He planted a magnoliatree along with a Bird of Paradise
tree among many other beautiful plants in the yard. For three years, he cared for theyard. The magnolia tree, one of Paula's
favorite trees, would not bloom no matter how much care was taken. Terry became ill with arare form of cancer and passed away.
The following Mother's Day, the magnolia bloomed. And it has bloomed every Mother's Daysince.
"He's saying Happy Mother's Day.  He's never missed one in his life," saidPaula Gross.

Editor's note: Paula Gross's niece, Kathryn Presley of Bryan, has plansto submit this story in the "Chicken Soup" series.      

Books, Bios & More for Oklahoma
*******************************************************
 

Stratford History Book
Stratford Roots
c/o Chandler-Watts Library
P. O. Box 696
Stratford, OK74872
****************************************************
"In Loving Memory" containsthe following cemeteries;
Canvas 1996
Hart (complete), Pontotoc
Lightning Ridge, Pontotoc
Midland, Pontotoc
Cook-Chisholm Family
Dolberg, Pontotoc
Lewis
Maxwell, Pontotoc
Abney Family
Marrs Family
Box X , Pontotoc
Postoak Family
Sam Lewis Family
Corley
Clabber Flats and Byars.

Stratford Roots:
c/o Chandler - Watts Library
P.O. Box 696
Stratford, Oklahoma 74872

***************************************************************

"McGee Cemetery" Canvas in 1996.McGee is in Garvin Co.

Stratford Roots:
c/o Chandler - Watts Library
P.O. Box 696
Stratford, Oklahoma 74872

*******************************************************

"Oaklawn Cemetery SextonBook", Wynnewood, Garvin Co.
Abstract of Burial Records
Compiled and sold by LaRita D. ReynesLDReynes@aol.com
****************************************************************
"Civil War Books"
 www.bourlandcivilwar.com 
prochette@juno.com  BOURLANDCIVILWAR.COM PUBLISHER

PATRICIA ADKINS-ROCHETTE,
7312 SOUTH GARNETT ROAD, #318
https://bourlandcivilwar.com/
918-250-5040
BROKEN ARROW, OK 74012-8659
FAX 918-250-8840
PROCHETTE@JUNO.COM

San Marcos, TX 78666

Bourland in North Texas and Indian Territory During the Civil War:
Fort Cobb, Fort Arbuckle & the Wichita Mountains

ISBN: 0-9761405-3-5
Pages: 1,014 pages including four indexes: one is a 128-page Name Index.
Binding Type: Oilcloth hard cover
List Price: $125.00 each.
Shipping: $ 8.00 each, my 8.5x11 book weighs 7.3 pounds.


I have transcribed 225 militia listings and the militia correspondence of 34 counties of North Texas in
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Starvation in Indian Territory among all of the tribes is a central theme of my book.

About 70 % of my 1,014-page study is from handwritten records and about 90 % is from contemporaneous sources. It addresses the Civil War era in the area bounded by Oklahoma City, Dallas, Texarkana, and  Childress, Texas. My book is described on my website, www.bourlandcivilwar.com.