She's a Real Chick

She's A Real Chick



This is a story of mortification and humiliation.  It’s a funny story, but it wasn’t so funny at the time.

My sister Nancy and I attended East Ward Elementary School in Brownwood, Texas.
At the time of this story, she was in first grade, I was in third.  It was a great school.  I loved walking into the building the first day of every school year and being greeted by the wonderful familiar smells of waxed floors, chalk dust, and new crayons.  Each classroom had a bank of windows across the outside wall and wooden lockers for each student across the back.

          Our desks had spaces for ink bottles and the lid lifted to store our books.  Outside was an endless grassy playground with a few swings and other play equipment, but we girls spent a lot of our time playing with balls and jumping ropes.  We would check out the balls and big ropes from a supply closet.  We also brought jacks and, sometimes, tops and marbles from home.  We enjoyed sports like baseball, but play could be difficult because we wore only dresses and it took more organizing.

Doodle Bug Hole

          Nature also provided diversion on the playground.  There were usually doodle bug holes in the soft dirt where you could pester the little creatures into coming up and showing themselves.  Sometimes you could catch a horned toad, but you had to be careful that it didn’t spit on you.  In the spring there might be swarms of monarch butterflies, and on a hot day you would sometimes find tarantulas in the outside water fountains.  If a ball went over the fence someone had to go gingerly though the cactus in the vacant lot to retrieve it.

        The school had an auditorium with a stage and I got to be Cinderella in my class Christmas play. My mother added a long skirt to a ballet tutu for my costume.  Across the back of the auditorium were a few shelves with books that constituted the “library.”  We were allowed to go there on Fridays and check out books.  Often I would crawl into bed with my book after dinner on Friday and read until I finished it.  I liked Pippa Longstocking books, Miss Pickerell books, and The Bobsey Twins.

Cinderella

Principle-Mrs. Wilson, Sue Anne, Teacher-Mrs. Friend

          This incident happened in the spring.  In fact, it was Easter.  The first grade was putting on an Easter play during the school holiday and the first graders were excited because it was their first time on the stage in the auditorium. When my mother took Nancy to the school for the performance, I went along.  Nancy had to be there early to get into her costume and when we arrived in the first grade classroom, there was a buzz of activity.  Little Easter critters filled the room, and Nancy hurried into her costume.  

          There was also a little hum of concerned voices among a group of mothers, and I soon found out why.  The “chick” was not able to be there.  My mother hurried over to me.  She wanted me to be the chick!  I was the only extra child available and since I was small, I could probably squeeze into a first grade costume.  Besides, the chick only had to say one line, she assured, so I agreed to be the chick. It shouldn’t be hard and might even be fun.

Not me, but similar

          They handed me the chick costume - and then I got the bad news.  I had to change right there in the classroom.  The play was about to start and there was no time to go anywhere private.  I balked. I was not stripping down to my underwear in front of all those first graders! The solution the mothers came up with was not a big improvement.  Several made a circle around me, held out their skirts, and instructed me to change.  “No one can see you now,” they chirped.  It didn’t feel very private to me with several women peering down at me, but I could see there was no way out, so I quickly squeezed into the chick costume, which was pretty skimpy - like a bathing suit that tied around the back of the neck - and two sizes too small.

I was given instructions about my one line and when to say it.  I stood on the stage with everyone else in my skimpy costume trying to anticipate the moment when I should speak up.  But I had never even seen this production and I didn’t have a feel for the flow, so I’m afraid there was a deadly silence that lasted several seconds while everyone else on stage looked at me expectantly.  My sister nodded meaningfully and I self-consciously spurted out my one line.

To the adults, this was not even an occurrence to be given a second thought.  To the first graders, it was an oddity to have a third grader in their play.  But my classmates howled with good-natured glee as they teased me the first day back at school.  They had all heard about my humiliation - that I was in the first grade play - in a skimpy chick costume!

Easter Togs

.

These are the directions to one of our playground games.
SEVEN UP
Single Person Bouncing Ball Game

Equipment:
Small rubber ball or tennis ball
Chalk
Windowless wall

Set up:
Make a line on the ground at least 5 feet from the wall.

Play:
The object of the game is to get through 7 levels of motions.
Use these or create your own.

~ Onesies: Bounce the ball against the wall, and catch the ball, once.
~ Twosies: Bounce the ball against the wall, twirl around and catch the ball. Do this twice.
~ Threesies: Bounce the ball against the wall, clap three times, and catch the ball. Do this three times.
~ Foursies:  Bounce the ball against the wall, clap your hands once in front of your body and once behind, and catch the ball. Do this four times.
~ Fivesies: Bounce the ball against the wall, slap your hands against your thighs, then crossed slap your chest, then clap your hands, and catch the ball. Do this five times.
~ Sixies: Bounce the ball against the wall, lift your right knee and clap under it, then lift your left knee and clap under it, and catch the ball. Do this six times.
~ Sevensies: Bounce the ball against the wall by throwing it under your leg, and catch the ball. Do this seven times.

If you make a mistake at any time, you have to start all over, but since you are playing by yourself, you can make your own rules.

Holland Nathaniel Brewer

Holland Nathaniel Brewer 1871-1950

How we are related:

Holland Nathaniel Brewer

Ina Beatrice Brewer Johnson

Marion Allan Johnson Speakman

Nat Brewer was the first of his family to be born in Mississippi. His father John Mead Lesir Brewer had come to Mississippi from Pickens, South Carolina as a child in the 1850's. His mother Elizabeth Buenvista Dulaney had also come with her family as a child when they returned from a few years living in Texas, where she was born, and later, Arkansas.

About 1873 Nat's family made the trek from Itawamba County, Mississippi, to Johnson County, Texas, with extended family. In the 1880 census his father lists his occupation as farming and Nat has two younger brothers and a new baby sister.

Sometime in his late teens Nat struck out on his own and went to the Texas Panhandle. There, despite his age, he evidently attended Miss Cappie's School. This became an important connection for him and he often returned to Claude, Texas or nearby Amarillo for the reunions of Miss Cappie's Kids. Nat came home to Johnson County in 1893 when a drought caused many of the frontiersmen to leave the panhandle.  

A story from Nat's years in the panhandle was broadcast by Station KGNC in nearby Amarillo.   A friend of Nat’s in Amarillo heard this radio program, wrote to see if he was the Brewer mentioned, and sent him a copy.  The story was then reprinted by Nat's employer, the Santa Fe Railroad.

A Christmas Story

Ever head of a Christmas story in the middle of March? Well, here is one that all of you will enjoy – and it does concern a Santa Fe fella that most of you know and think a lot of.

This story was presented in Amarillo over Station KGNC, and it is about Panhandle City. Here goes …

“It was the night before Christmas in 1891. A big red cedar tree had been cut in the canyon 30 miles away, and hauled in a wagon to the courthouse. Money had been collected to decorate the tree and to insure a treat for every child in the county. There were only a few families in Carson County in 1891 and the first Christmas tree meant plenty of excitement for everyone. A committee decorated it, putting a pasteboard star covered with tinfoil on all the boughs and hanging a doll there, then one over on the other side. They scattered scarfs, neckties, socks, fascinaters, etc., all over the tree.

After the tree was decorated, all the workers left for home to prepare for the party that night. One man, Horace Hickox, noticed a dark cloud bank in the north and realized he should not wait in town as planned, but go home and put his stock under shelter. Against his better judgment, he decided to stay until his children arrived and he saw that they were all fine.

At home the Hickox children were getting ready to go to town. It was an eight mile journey into town over a road where there were no fences and no lanes. Snow had already begun to fall when they reached town. When they arrived “Papa” had his heart set on seeing his children enjoy their first tree, but the snow changed his mind. Mr. Hickox’s stock were out in the cold and they must be attended to, so he called on a young neighbor, Nat Brewer, to drive his family home and then Horace left.

The party continued, spirits were higher than ever before, and no thoughts were given to the snow storm raging close outside. Packages were opened, horns blown, dolls were hugged close to the hearts of little girls, young ladies blushed as they found a ring or bracelet from different young men, women found the new sewing machines or sidesaddles, needed and wanted, while young men treasured the knitted or crocheted neckties made for them by the girl they loved. Everyone was happy.

The crowd began to dwindle a few at a time. Nat Brewer got the Hickox children together and they started on the slow drive home through the swirling snow storm. The children bedded down in the bales of hay Nat had bought and wrapped up in blankets. Nat was the only unprotected one and he walked half of the eight miles to keep from freezing. When they finally reached the Hickox home, Nat noticed a thermometer on the side of the house and it read “0.”

The afternoon had been pretty, but for some reason Nat had carried his overcoat. This coat kept him from freezing while taking the Hickox children home.

After the horses were fed another Christmas party was held inside the warm house and the children went to bed warm and happy.”

Well, how did you like the story? What does it have to do with the Santa Fe, you ask? That Nat Brewer is H. N. (Nat) Brewer, retired powerhouse engineer. Mr. Brewer retired May 30, 1944, after working for the Santa Fe for almost 22 years.

A friend of Mr. Brewer’s in Amarillo heard this radio program, wrote to see if he was the Brewer mentioned, and sent him a copy.

Mr. Brewer came to Cleburne in 1874 in a wagon from Mississippi. Bet he could tell us some interesting stories about early Cleburne. Hats off to you, Mr. Brewer!

In June of 1893 Nat married May Ellen Pittman in Italy, Ellis County, Texas. May had been born in Ellis County to parents who were also Mississippi emigrants.

In June of 1900 Nat was farming in Ellis County and they had a six-year-old son Roy; but sadly, May lists herself as the mother of 3 children, 1 living. Two daughters, Jennie and Jewel had died shortly after birth and are buried in the Italy cemetery.  Also living in the household was May's grandmother Cerena Jordan Little, 

May, Roy, and Nat Brewer

Happily, by December of 1900 a third daughter Ina Beatrice had been born and she lived to be seventy-seven.  Ina remembered the move from Italy in Ellis County to Johnson County when she was about 5 or 6.  She marveled that her family had made the trip in a horse-drawn wagon and that she lived to see a man walk on the moon.

In 1910 the little family has grown to include two younger brothers for Ina, Ollin and Elton.

The Johnson farm was at Lone Willow, about 10 miles southwest of Cleburne.

Back row:  Ina, Roy, Nat - Front Row:  Elton, Ollin, May

Ina, Ollin & Elton on the farm

In 1920 Nat was still farming, but by 1930 he was employed in the shops of the Santa Fe Railroad and living in Cleburne at 414 Williams Avenue.  Ina's daughter Marion told about living through the depression in Cleburne.

Nat holding Marion

Nat and Marion on Old Lady

"I remember a few things prior to the time I started to first grade.  The things that I really remember, without somebody telling me that it happened, I guess, was in 1929 when we had the depression and all the banks closed.  My grandma and grandpa lived across the street from us and they had two farms.  One was a black land farm and the other one was a sandy land farm.  There were a lot of people out of work during the depression, and fortunately my dad and my granddad both had work the whole time that the depression was on, but there was a lot of people out of work.  There was a lot of what they called soup lines, and there was a lot of chaos back then because people had had good jobs and  had means to take care of their families and all at once they didn’t have that money and the financial support that they’d had.  They’d lost their homes and times were pretty hard for most everybody.  But my granddad had the sandy land farm and, if you don’t know much about farming, you can raise a lot of things on sandy land because it retains the water and it’s a good growing soil for fruits and vegetables.  

The Black Land Farm

And we didn’t have many fruits.  My grandmother and granddad had a great big lot that they lived on across the street from us and we had quite a few peach trees and things like that we could get fruit off of for our fruit.  But down on the sandy land farm, there was a family that lived down there and took care of the farm, and planted the produce and harvested it and my granddad would get part of what they harvested.  And we used to go down, my granddad had a great big trailer and a little car, and we’d go down real early in the morning when the things got ripe, ready to harvest, and we’d maybe pick corn - pick a whole trailer full of corn - and we’d bring it back up to where we lived.  And my family - I had one brother, Weldon, that was two years younger than I was, and I had an uncle - my Uncle Ollin and his family - and my grandmother and granddad.  And we had a pressure cooker and we had a sealer that would seal the tin cans - like you go to the grocery store and buy things out of now.  A lot of people didn’t have those sealers to do the tin cans and they would use bottles, but we had the sealer, so we used the tin cans.

My family would buy the cans a hundred at a time and when we would do the corn, we would get all the corn off of the cob, you have to shuck the corn.  April, you know what it looks like when you go to the grocery store and buy it with the shucks on it?  We’d have to take all that off and clean it and get it ready.  And we’d cut it off the cob and can the corn.  We canned beans, we canned black-eyed peas, we made soup, and a lot of times we had meat and we’d can the meat.  And we’d have that all year long to live on. We used to have tomatoes and we’d can tomatoes, and we’d can tomato juice.  And we had just about everything we needed with the fruit and the vegetables that we could can and have for our year’s supply of food.  And we were really lucky because we never had to ask anybody for food or help because we were more or less self-sufficient."

Nat behind car, Roy driving, Elton beside Roy, Ina leaning out, May in back, Ollin standing.

The 1940 Census shows the close relationship of the two families.  They live across the street from each other and Marion Johnson and Nat Brewer both work for the Santa Fe Railroad.

In 1943 Nat and May celebrated their 50th Wedding Anniversary.

Golden Wedding Anniversary at the Brewer home in Cleburne.

Back row:  Ollin, Roy Elton          -           Front row:  Nat, May, Ina

At the Brewer home in 1948 - 

back row:  Nat, Ina, Marion, front row: Sue Anne, May holding Nancy Beth

Holland Nathaniel Brewer died in 1950

six months after the death of May

and was buried in the Cleburne Cemetery.

How we are related:

Holland Nathaniel Brewer

Ina Beatrice Brewer Johnson

Marion Allan Johnson Speakman

Geneva in the Beauty Pageant

Geneva in the Beauty Pageant 

How we are related:

Martha Geneva Ashby Speakman

Daniel Vaughn Speakman

“We take the pleasure of enclosing herewith credentialed  ticket and badge issued with the compliments of President. J. T. McNaught.  Mr. J. E. Langford who will have full charge of the pageant requests that you report not later than 7:00 p.m., Monday, October 4th at the Queen’s Quarters when you will receive full instructions as to your part in the pageant.  We have already mailed you detailed instructions and trust you have received same.  We wish you to have no anxiety as to your welfare while on the fairgrounds and we desire you to know, also, that every safeguard will be thrown around you, that nothing may happen to mar your visit.   Assuring you of our desire to make your visit to the fair one long to be remembered.  We are yours respectfully, J. G. Ensign.
Badge will be handed you at the fairgrounds Monday.

Geneva Ashby - 2nd from left

From an audio tape recorded in 1972 by Dan Speakman at the home of his mother
Martha Geneva Ashby Speakman (1895-1981).
Transcribed by Sue S. Lambert











Dan: Didn’t you tell me at one time that you were in
          the state competition in a beauty contest or
          something?
         Tell us about it.
Geneva: You’ve seen the picture of me, haven’t you?
Dan: Well, maybe I’ve seen one, I don’t remember.
Geneva: It was right up at the state capitol.
Dan: Was it just a competition up there, or did you
           represent Millard County?
Geneva: Millard County
Dan: Well, you had a beauty contest here first, then?
Geneva: No, they just chose a queen and four maids of honor from this county.
                          I was one of them.
Dan: Well what did you have to do to compete for that?

Ogden Standard
October 8, 1914

Geneva: Go to Salt Lake.
Dan: But you didn’t compete here before you left?
Geneva: No, went to Salt Lake.
Dan: How did they choose you from the county?
Geneva: Oh, they just picked us.
Dan: They picked you from here and then you were judged up there?
Geneva: Yes.
Dan: What did you have to do up there, just …
Geneva: No, we had to compete.
Dan: Did you have several dresses that you had to wear?
Geneva: We had costumes, new costumes
Dan: Well, what did you have … ?
Geneva: You can see a little picture.  
                          Have you seen that picture?
Dan: Did you have a formal or a swim suit competition or
          what did you have?
Geneva: No, all in the same thing. 
Dan: Just one costume is all that you went out in.
Geneva: All the same costume.  The county did it.
Dan: The county hired it for you?
Geneva: Yes.
Dan: Did you win up there?
Geneva: I was the Maid of Honor.  I won third  prize.
Dan: Third prize.
Geneva:           I got from Orbach’s.  
                        They gave me the best hat they had.  
                        They gave me two of them.
Dan: Is that right?
Geneva:         They sat around this big coliseum outside town.                           
                      You had to walk around a platform around all the people sitting there.  
                      And Dad was there, and somebody said, 
                     “Oh, there’s a beautiful girl!” 
                      and he said, “That’s my daughter!”  
                      And then we had to walk down this big platform to get our prize.  
                      They gave us an envelope. Governor Spry gave it to us.  
                      We had to walk down to get our prize and he gave it to us. Flap, flap, flap, flap.
                       Before we went they had a big, big banquet all decorated just beautiful and  
                       they took us there in a coach that looked like this with four big white horses.  
                       We sat in this curve ..
Dan:  Curves like you see in the movies?
Geneva:         Yes.  
Dad:  Fancy?
Geneva:        Well it curved down the middle with four big white horses.
Dan:  You sat down in the curve and the man sat up in the front on the seat of the dome?
          Well, did Dad drive his team clear from here?  Did you have a …
Geneva:         He used to have this covered …   No, he had one of his cars …
Dan:  He had his car then that he went up
Geneva:         No, I don’t know how he – he went in the parade with us.
Dan:  Oh.
Betty: Was this before you were married, or when?
Geneva: I was seventeen.  Yeah, long before I was married.

How we are related:

Martha Geneva Ashby Speakman

Daniel Vaughn Speakman

Left Turn Honkers

LEFT TURN HONKERS

One Sunday morning when I was a teenager my mother, my sister, and I got in the car and started off for church.  Since my father was the bishop, he had left earlier and gone alone.  We weren’t very far into the trip before we discovered that every time we turned left the car horn began honking wildly.  There was obviously some sort of short in the system.
I was so embarrassed that I suggested we turn around and go home.  My sister, always unflappable, couldn’t have cared less if we attracted attention.  My mother, who was driving, insisted that we might as well go on to church, as there seemed no point in honking all the way back and sitting home when we could be at Sunday School.  So on we flew, bracing ourselves every time we approached a left turn.  
The responses of our fellow motorists proved interesting.  Some people stared in scorn that we were so rude as to disturb the Sabbath tranquility with our dreadful jangle.  Others looked upset, afraid that we were directing our honks at them personally for some unknown misdeed.  Making one turn, we passed a carload of men who thought we were flirting with them and began following us. (They kept going when we turned into the church parking lot.)
Since Fort Worth was a city about the size of Salt Lake, but with only one ward, it was a long way to church.  There are a lot of left turns when you travel miles of windy southern roads, but we finally arrived, laughing so hysterically we could hardly compose ourselves to enter the chapel with the proper demeanor.  How glad we were to arrive at our destination! After church the horn was 
disconnected so that we could travel home without attracting attention.
I began to understand the Savior’s injunction about judging.  Situations and people may not be what they seem.  So much of what we observe in others is really just a reflection of our own lives, interests, and preconceptions.  Fellow travelers on life’s highways have little real insight into the challenges and predicaments of those whom they meet at the crossroads.
        I still sometimes charge through life as a left turn honker, totally inappropriate and out of context.  I can only hope that I will see and be seen through the lens of mercy and humor.  I pray that my fellow travelers and I will arrive at last, in spite of difficulties along the way, at the Lord’s house - with laughter on our lips and joy in the journey we have made together.
Sue Anne S. Lambert Oct 2005