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Note: Family Bible is with Johnnie Wesley Linder's wife Ruth Personal knowledge of children on sheet
Partial History of Johnnie Wesley Linder as told by Himself
July 11, 1999
The following was transcribed from a cassette and is exactly as spoken by Johnnie
without making corrections as to grammar. Johnnie passed away on the 14th , three
days later and was unable to finish.
This is suppose to be the story of my life for whatever it's worth to anybody.
I was born in May 1, 1918, and it was near a little town called Bristow, Oklahoma.
That is, a farming community and I knew nothing else until 1935 when I left
Oklahoma. I was born to a very dysfunctional family, thought we didn't know
what dysfunctional meant back then.
One incident that I don't remember, my mother told me about, was when I was
about two and a half or three years old, I had pneumonia and they just about lost
me. We worked out in the field in the farm all of the time. And she had put on a
pot of black-eyed peas to cook when we were working on an old wood stove. And
I could, I guess I could smell those peas cooking, and I guess I was hungry, she said
that they had been feeding me very light meals, very light liquid food. And she says
she came in, and here I was up on a chair. I had pushed a chair over and got up on
the chair and was eating fist-fulls of those black eyed peas with the hog fat in 'em.
'Cause I guess I was hungry. She says she was shocked and amazed that I could do
that while being so young. As I said I don't remember, but mom told me several
times about my eating the hog fat and black-eyed peas out of the pot with my fist
full.
Ruthie Crandall in background asks, "Did you say your name?"
Oh, I got a name. I was born, my mother gave me a name of Johnnie Linder. She
said it was for her uncle Johnny McNew, but she didn't know how to spell it I guess
because it ended up before I went to school as Johnnie instead of Johnny like so
many other boys were named. I don't remember too much about my childhood until
I was about five or six years old. That's when we had moved to an old place with an
old house about 12 miles north of Bristow, a farm of course. My dad was a cattle
buyer; he always dealt in cattle, one way or another. He was also an alcoholic and a
drunkard. I hope no one ever has to live under these conditions.
When I was four and five years old, and my sister younger than me was three or
four, we were both cotton tops, white headed, and when dad'd come in drinking, he
loved to chase us out into the cotton field. And after he'd run us out into the cotton
fields, only he'd just pretend he was running, and we were scared so we ran out there
and hid, until mom would call us to come back into the house.
When I was about five and half to six, I hadn't started school yet. The older
children which was four of 'em, I was number five of six kids, they started school
at another place where they lived and then they started school in this Liberty
school house which was about three or four miles from where we lived. I never
started to school until I was about seven, my birthday being May 1, and school
didn't start until September or August. Being in a farm community you went to
school about the first six weeks from August to mid September and then you was
out to help gather the crops of cotton and corn and anything else that was raised.
I started to pick cotton when I was about five years old and milking cows when I
was seven. It was all kind of fun at the time just to prove that I could milk and I
could pick cotton, which today wouldn't be so much fun. My older brothers and
sisters were Lenora was the oldest and then Fred, then Omer, and then Helen, that's
four, and then me, then Fanny.
We had I guess fun together as much as a farm people and country kids could
have. My older brother was kind of protective of me, and he would, he would get
me on a horse when I was about four years old. I noticed I could ride before I could
walk very good. I know when I was about five I was suppose to dry the dishes for
Helen and he sneaks me out on a horse and we went horseback riding. Well, when we
returned, my mother was waiting with a switch, and before I got off the horse I got
switched on the seat because I had run off. It was kind of funny, I guess, the way it
turned out. But, that didn't stop Fred from sneaking me out ever so often and riding
horses.
I got to back up a little bit. I was almost born on a horse. My dad had gone to
Amarillo, Texas and to various places and bought the cattle and had them shipped
in to Bristow. And there was a lot of corrals there to receive the cattle off of the rail
boxcars. My mother was riding and handling the cattle to pasture 'em and she was on
the horse three days before I was born, and probably the next day after I was born
she was back on the horse because the cattle had to be moved. So I was almost born
on a horse.
When I was about six or seven, around six, I hadn't started school yet, then dad,
my brothers had broken up an old shack about a mile away, and they had left the
axe there. They made up something or other; they had me go down there by myself
to get the axe. And I was coming back, there's a few acres of young trees there,
almost a forest, and as I was coming back with the axe on my shoulder and saw this
two black people. One of them come running out hollering they was gonna get me,
and I laid the axe up on my hands and I was gonna fight 'em. And Helen started
hollering "Johnnie, don't hit me with the axe, it's me Helen." And the other one was
my older sister Lenora, but they never did pull that stunt again.
That's just an incident in my life
(Ruth Linder in the background) "The lightning, on the horse and lightning."
Another incident happened when I was a little older, then riding a horse down to
a neighbors. And it happened to be the road I was riding on was in between phone
lines, I mean, yeah, phone lines on one side, electric lines on the other side, and it
come up a storm. The lightning flashed and I could feel electricity and the horse he'd
tremble and jerk, 'cause the animals kind of draw electricity. So I got out in the, as
much as I could, in the middle of the road as far away from each of the wire lines as I
could and then tried to out run the storm. But I've felt lightning quite a few times
when I was on a horse riding, either horse back, or bare back or with a saddle. It seems
that the animals do draw lightning flashes and lightning hits. It tingles you could feel, I
could feel the horse shimmer and shake, but I was never on one when it got lightning
struck. It was just a? yeah, there was cases of animals getting struck by lightning out
in the pasture. But thank the Lord I never was on one when it got struck.
We'll go back to this little two-room schoolhouse called Liberty. There was, they
held church meetings in it, and they held Christmas parties in it. I don't know what
else, but I was at this Church (schoolhouse) on Christmas Eve with my family and I
was, I hadn't started school, so I was still under seven years old, five and a half to six.
Then there was a constable out of Olive, Oklahoma where the schoolhouse was built
that I went to later. But he was the constable, he was the bus driver, he was just an
old man trying to get by. And there was a rowdy kids all right, and the families that
were wild and rough and mean. And this one boy was about 15 or 16 was there that
night and he started riling the constable, he told him he was gonna take his gun off of
him. And the constable told him he better not, he better stay clear. "Nah, I'm gonna
take that gun off of you." And he went towards him. The constable drew his gun and
told him to stop, and he didn't stop, and the constable shot him, through the side.
And I heard the shot, but I didn't actually see him fall. I was about probably thirty
feet from where this happened, it happened on the porch of this schoolhouse, the
front porch. And I was scared. I was a fraidy cat most of my life. I didn't like
violence; I had seen an awful lot of it.
I saw, after I was going to school two or three years my dad, he always was
picking, really picking fights with neighbors, or anybody, and this was after we
moved up to what we called the old home place. It was a big white house, a big red
barn, and it had a storm cellar. We lived there for quite a number of years, it was
there, that's where I started school, at Olive Oklahoma. I rode the bus; it was about
six and a half to seven miles. There was a time when the storms came by, came
through, lightning, thunder and hail, wind, and the other thing this house had on it was
lightning rods. Which was a good thing, because if lightning struck the house it would
burn a hole in it about a foot around and the lightning rods took the lightning bolt and
run it into the ground.
The people that had, our neighbors, had to come almost up through our yard, the
road came through there from their place. And then went on out to the main road that
took you out either to Drumright or Sapulpa, Bristow, Manford. And Dad had had
some words with the neighbor and the owner of the neighbor's property, named
Dicks, and they came up there to open the gate to go through and dad wouldn't let
them open the gate. So they turned around and went back and got a couple of clubs
and someone else, I don't remember who else, and they came back. This Art Dicks
said, "John, what the hell's the matter with you?" and dad said, "You can't come
through here, these people have left the gate open and let my cows out." I don't know
whether they did or not, but that's what he told 'em, that's why he was angry
with 'em. So, he said, "Well, we're gonna come through, if we have to beat you." to
dad. And so the fight started. My oldest brother, he came out of the house and he
took the little guy named Van Meeter, he took him on and fairly whipped him good.
And dad was fighting this Art Dicks and he, I don't know how, but he ended up with
a club in his hands, and Art Dicks, him and the other man that was there, they got in
the old car and turned around and went the other way. Then they brought a charge
against my dad for trying to keep them from getting out of their property. I don't
know what the ramifications of the law is, I don't know what it was then. But they
did have a trial and dad was cleared, I don't know why.
I just grew; I remember an incident or two before we moved to this old home place.
All of us still down below. One morning, or rather afternoon, mom and dad came out
of the timber up there with a fresh cow and new calf. And Fanny and I we run on up
there full of curiosity and asked where did they get that little calf. And mom being the
kind of prude that she was I guess, or something, says, "Oh, she dug it up out there.
" Fanny and I went and got our shovels and hoe and we went out to dig up some
calves. That was so funny, after?
(Mike Crandall in background asks) "What was your age?"
?Our age was less than six and about four. And that's the way mom was, anytime
anything would come up with sex, why, it was very prudently and very rudely
dismissed, she didn't mince any words about it.
(Ruth Linder in background says) "That's the way she was raised."
What?
(Ruth repeats above)
Yes, yeah, yep. After we moved up to the old home place, and I was about eight
years old or so. Fred and Omer had taken the wagon and team and gone over to the
big pasture to get wood, and Fred had left without his cap. As usual, when these
boys came in the cap would go one way and they'd go the other. Then when they got
ready to go somewhere they couldn't find the cap. Mom had found it and so she'd
made me get on the horse and go over to the big pasture and to take the cap. Well, I
was scared of the forest, what, wolves was probably the most vicious animal in there
besides snakes or coyotes and stuff. So I took the cap and I went up through the lane
over into the big pasture and I got lost. I didn't know which way was which except
that there was kind of hot headed clouds up there and I, as I said I was scared, and I
hollered to "God, show me the way home." and I started crying. And it sounded like
a voice come out of the clouds and said, "Johnnie, turn lose the reigns, the horse will
take you home." I turned lose the reigns and the horse just trotted right on back to
familiar territory, and then I got mad at the horse and told the horse that he was the
one that got me lost. That was so silly. I did a lot of silly things back then.
(Ruth Linder in background) "You was five or six, it was just childish"
A big bank of sand down below the lane where it went into the big pasture, and the
creek when it would rain would wash a lot of sand and there was about a 10 foot
bluff there. And I would run and jump off of that bluff down into the sand and it
would hurt my leg when I did. But I'd do it because I liked to do it. I liked to climb
trees and ride horses and jump off of bluffs?
(Ruth in background) "And front porches.
?Yeah, and front porches, but I didn't know any better than to do that when my leg
was degenerating in the hip. So I did all of those things which really I shouldn't have
done. But I didn't know any better. I jumped out of the hayloft down on the ground.
To me it was a way up there; it probably was no more than 10 feet.
I, before I talked about me being born on a horse, and my mother told me, told all
of us, that she was riding around the pasture, and she saw this black man watching
her and she was scared of him. And it happened about three days, three times, and he
was probably just looking at mother afraid that she was gonna get hurt or something,
the neighbor knew that she was riding and herding the cows. But she saw him this
day and it was unnerving to her, so she took out her little gun, a 32 pistol that dad
had given to protect herself with. And just as this man went over the bank to get
down to the creek, why she shot at him. And, of course she missed him. I say of
course, because I don't think that she was really aiming at him. She just wanted to
scare him. And I expect he got scared when he heard that bullet singing through the
tree limbs. That's just one of the things that happened before I was born.
The following addendum is from notes taken by oldest daughter Ruthie Crandall
after a conversation with Johnnie about his life.
When dad was four years old his first memory is of working in the fields. One day he
and Uncle Omer sneaked off to pitch horseshoes and saw that their house was on fire.
Grandma and Grandpa were asleep inside and they ran to get them out. They lost
everything except what they were wearing. This is a shame for those of us who are
trying to do genealogy as all Linder family history up to that time was in a trunk in
that house and it all burned up. The family moved into one of Grandpa Morgans'
rental houses temporarily. But soon moved into one of their own as Grandpa Linder
had a great desire to be independent.
They spent their Christmas's with Grandma and Grandpa Morgan. Dad says
Grandma Morgan was a "Princess of a woman" and all ways made their Christmas
a wonderful time. Being at Grandpa Morgans' was their first experience of indoor
plumbing.
Dad remembers going with his father and brother to take a load of hay into town by
horse and wagon. This was an all day job, and they brought a load of hulls back as
well as a little red wagon for dad. This was his Christmas present for that year.
Dad started school when he was age seven as there was no kindergarten and you had
to be seven to start first grade. Dad went though his sophomore year at this school.
One time he and some other boys were giving the teacher a hard time, she threatened
to send them to the principal. The principal was outside the door and said, "I will
take them now." When he got them all in his office he told them "If you want a
whipping go outside and cut a switch and I will use it on you. Dad thought about
what he said and the "if you want a spanking" stuck out. Well, dad didn't want a
whipping and, therefore, didn't cut a switch. When they got back into the principal's
office he asked dad why. When dad told him, he carefully hid a smile and then sent
him back to class without a whipping. He graduated from the eighth grade in cap and
gown. The ninth and tenth grades didn't make much of an impression on him, except
he took public speaking and was very good at it. He was chosen to be the M.C. of a
school program at another school.
Things weren't too good at home and he decided to leave home and moved in with
Aunt Helen and her husband Buster. This took place in the depression era when jobs
were scarce. When school was out his sophomore year he and Buster and a group of
young men decided to head west to try and find work. What they found was a very
dry country and no work. They traveled for a month in Oklahoma, Kansas and
Colorado and then decided to go to Arizona, which they found to have a lot of farm
jobs available.
Family Bible is with Johnnie Wesley Linder's wife Ruth
Personal knowledge of children on sheet
Partial History of Johnnie Wesley Linder as told by Himself
July 11, 1999
The following was transcribed from a cassette and is exactly as spoken by Johnnie
without making corrections as to grammar. Johnnie passed away on the 14th , three
days later and was unable to finish.
This is suppose to be the story of my life for whatever it's worth to anybody.
I was born in May 1, 1918, and it was near a little town called Bristow, Oklahoma.
That is, a farming community and I knew nothing else until 1935 when I left
Oklahoma. I was born to a very dysfunctional family, thought we didn't know
what dysfunctional meant back then.
One incident that I don't remember, my mother told me about, was when I was
about two and a half or three years old, I had pneumonia and they just about lost
me. We worked out in the field in the farm all of the time. And she had put on a
pot of black-eyed peas to cook when we were working on an old wood stove. And
I could, I guess I could smell those peas cooking, and I guess I was hungry, she said
that they had been feeding me very light meals, very light liquid food. And she says
she came in, and here I was up on a chair. I had pushed a chair over and got up on
the chair and was eating fist-fulls of those black eyed peas with the hog fat in 'em.
'Cause I guess I was hungry. She says she was shocked and amazed that I could do
that while being so young. As I said I don't remember, but mom told me several
times about my eating the hog fat and black-eyed peas out of the pot with my fist
full.
Ruthie Crandall in background asks, "Did you say your name?"
Oh, I got a name. I was born, my mother gave me a name of Johnnie Linder. She
said it was for her uncle Johnny McNew, but she didn't know how to spell it I guess
because it ended up before I went to school as Johnnie instead of Johnny like so
many other boys were named. I don't remember too much about my childhood until
I was about five or six years old. That's when we had moved to an old place with an
old house about 12 miles north of Bristow, a farm of course. My dad was a cattle
buyer; he always dealt in cattle, one way or another. He was also an alcoholic and a
drunkard. I hope no one ever has to live under these conditions.
When I was four and five years old, and my sister younger than me was three or
four, we were both cotton tops, white headed, and when dad'd come in drinking, he
loved to chase us out into the cotton field. And after he'd run us out into the cotton
fields, only he'd just pretend he was running, and we were scared so we ran out there
and hid, until mom would call us to come back into the house.
When I was about five and half to six, I hadn't started school yet. The older
children which was four of 'em, I was number five of six kids, they started school
at another place where they lived and then they started school in this Liberty
school house which was about three or four miles from where we lived. I never
started to school until I was about seven, my birthday being May 1, and school
didn't start until September or August. Being in a farm community you went to
school about the first six weeks from August to mid September and then you was
out to help gather the crops of cotton and corn and anything else that was raised.
I started to pick cotton when I was about five years old and milking cows when I
was seven. It was all kind of fun at the time just to prove that I could milk and I
could pick cotton, which today wouldn't be so much fun. My older brothers and
sisters were Lenora was the oldest and then Fred, then Omer, and then Helen, that's
four, and then me, then Fanny.
We had I guess fun together as much as a farm people and country kids could
have. My older brother was kind of protective of me, and he would, he would get
me on a horse when I was about four years old. I noticed I could ride before I could
walk very good. I know when I was about five I was suppose to dry the dishes for
Helen and he sneaks me out on a horse and we went horseback riding. Well, when we
returned, my mother was waiting with a switch, and before I got off the horse I got
switched on the seat because I had run off. It was kind of funny, I guess, the way it
turned out. But, that didn't stop Fred from sneaking me out ever so often and riding
horses.
I got to back up a little bit. I was almost born on a horse. My dad had gone to
Amarillo, Texas and to various places and bought the cattle and had them shipped
in to Bristow. And there was a lot of corrals there to receive the cattle off of the rail
boxcars. My mother was riding and handling the cattle to pasture 'em and she was on
the horse three days before I was born, and probably the next day after I was born
she was back on the horse because the cattle had to be moved. So I was almost born
on a horse.
When I was about six or seven, around six, I hadn't started school yet, then dad,
my brothers had broken up an old shack about a mile away, and they had left the
axe there. They made up something or other; they had me go down there by myself
to get the axe. And I was coming back, there's a few acres of young trees there,
almost a forest, and as I was coming back with the axe on my shoulder and saw this
two black people. One of them come running out hollering they was gonna get me,
and I laid the axe up on my hands and I was gonna fight 'em. And Helen started
hollering "Johnnie, don't hit me with the axe, it's me Helen." And the other one was
my older sister Lenora, but they never did pull that stunt again.
That's just an incident in my life
(Ruth Linder in the background) "The lightning, on the horse and lightning."
Another incident happened when I was a little older, then riding a horse down to
a neighbors. And it happened to be the road I was riding on was in between phone
lines, I mean, yeah, phone lines on one side, electric lines on the other side, and it
come up a storm. The lightning flashed and I could feel electricity and the horse he'd
tremble and jerk, 'cause the animals kind of draw electricity. So I got out in the, as
much as I could, in the middle of the road as far away from each of the wire lines as I
could and then tried to out run the storm. But I've felt lightning quite a few times
when I was on a horse riding, either horse back, or bare back or with a saddle. It seems
that the animals do draw lightning flashes and lightning hits. It tingles you could feel, I
could feel the horse shimmer and shake, but I was never on one when it got lightning
struck. It was just a� yeah, there was cases of animals getting struck by lightning out
in the pasture. But thank the Lord I never was on one when it got struck.
We'll go back to this little two-room schoolhouse called Liberty. There was, they
held church meetings in it, and they held Christmas parties in it. I don't know what
else, but I was at this Church (schoolhouse) on Christmas Eve with my family and I
was, I hadn't started school, so I was still under seven years old, five and a half to six.
Then there was a constable out of Olive, Oklahoma where the schoolhouse was built
that I went to later. But he was the constable, he was the bus driver, he was just an
old man trying to get by. And there was a rowdy kids all right, and the families that
were wild and rough and mean. And this one boy was about 15 or 16 was there that
night and he started riling the constable, he told him he was gonna take his gun off of
him. And the constable told him he better not, he better stay clear. "Nah, I'm gonna
take that gun off of you." And he went towards him. The constable drew his gun and
told him to stop, and he didn't stop, and the constable shot him, through the side.
And I heard the shot, but I didn't actually see him fall. I was about probably thirty
feet from where this happened, it happened on the porch of this schoolhouse, the
front porch. And I was scared. I was a fraidy cat most of my life. I didn't like
violence; I had seen an awful lot of it.
I saw, after I was going to school two or three years my dad, he always was
picking, really picking fights with neighbors, or anybody, and this was after we
moved up to what we called the old home place. It was a big white house, a big red
barn, and it had a storm cellar. We lived there for quite a number of years, it was
there, that's where I started school, at Olive Oklahoma. I rode the bus; it was about
six and a half to seven miles. There was a time when the storms came by, came
through, lightning, thunder and hail, wind, and the other thing this house had on it was
lightning rods. Which was a good thing, because if lightning struck the house it would
burn a hole in it about a foot around and the lightning rods took the lightning bolt and
run it into the ground.
The people that had, our neighbors, had to come almost up through our yard, the
road came through there from their place. And then went on out to the main road that
took you out either to Drumright or Sapulpa, Bristow, Manford. And Dad had had
some words with the neighbor and the owner of the neighbor's property, named
Dicks, and they came up there to open the gate to go through and dad wouldn't let
them open the gate. So they turned around and went back and got a couple of clubs
and someone else, I don't remember who else, and they came back. This Art Dicks
said, "John, what the hell's the matter with you?" and dad said, "You can't come
through here, these people have left the gate open and let my cows out." I don't know
whether they did or not, but that's what he told 'em, that's why he was angry
with 'em. So, he said, "Well, we're gonna come through, if we have to beat you." to
dad. And so the fight started. My oldest brother, he came out of the house and he
took the little guy named Van Meeter, he took him on and fairly whipped him good.
And dad was fighting this Art Dicks and he, I don't know how, but he ended up with
a club in his hands, and Art Dicks, him and the other man that was there, they got in
the old car and turned around and went the other way. Then they brought a charge
against my dad for trying to keep them from getting out of their property. I don't
know what the ramifications of the law is, I don't know what it was then. But they
did have a trial and dad was cleared, I don't know why.
I just grew; I remember an incident or two before we moved to this old home place.
All of us still down below. One morning, or rather afternoon, mom and dad came out
of the timber up there with a fresh cow and new calf. And Fanny and I we run on up
there full of curiosity and asked where did they get that little calf. And mom being the
kind of prude that she was I guess, or something, says, "Oh, she dug it up out there.
" Fanny and I went and got our shovels and hoe and we went out to dig up some
calves. That was so funny, after�
(Mike Crandall in background asks) "What was your age?"
�Our age was less than six and about four. And that's the way mom was, anytime
anything would come up with sex, why, it was very prudently and very rudely
dismissed, she didn't mince any words about it.
(Ruth Linder in background says) "That's the way she was raised."
What?
(Ruth repeats above)
Yes, yeah, yep. After we moved up to the old home place, and I was about eight
years old or so. Fred and Omer had taken the wagon and team and gone over to the
big pasture to get wood, and Fred had left without his cap. As usual, when these
boys came in the cap would go one way and they'd go the other. Then when they got
ready to go somewhere they couldn't find the cap. Mom had found it and so she'd
made me get on the horse and go over to the big pasture and to take the cap. Well, I
was scared of the forest, what, wolves was probably the most vicious animal in there
besides snakes or coyotes and stuff. So I took the cap and I went up through the lane
over into the big pasture and I got lost. I didn't know which way was which except
that there was kind of hot headed clouds up there and I, as I said I was scared, and I
hollered to "God, show me the way home." and I started crying. And it sounded like
a voice come out of the clouds and said, "Johnnie, turn lose the reigns, the horse will
take you home." I turned lose the reigns and the horse just trotted right on back to
familiar territory, and then I got mad at the horse and told the horse that he was the
one that got me lost. That was so silly. I did a lot of silly things back then.
(Ruth Linder in background) "You was five or six, it was just childish"
A big bank of sand down below the lane where it went into the big pasture, and the
creek when it would rain would wash a lot of sand and there was about a 10 foot
bluff there. And I would run and jump off of that bluff down into the sand and it
would hurt my leg when I did. But I'd do it because I liked to do it. I liked to climb
trees and ride horses and jump off of bluffs�
(Ruth in background) "And front porches.
�Yeah, and front porches, but I didn't know any better than to do that when my leg
was degenerating in the hip. So I did all of those things which really I shouldn't have
done. But I didn't know any better. I jumped out of the hayloft down on the ground.
To me it was a way up there; it probably was no more than 10 feet.
I, before I talked about me being born on a horse, and my mother told me, told all
of us, that she was riding around the pasture, and she saw this black man watching
her and she was scared of him. And it happened about three days, three times, and he
was probably just looking at mother afraid that she was gonna get hurt or something,
the neighbor knew that she was riding and herding the cows. But she saw him this
day and it was unnerving to her, so she took out her little gun, a 32 pistol that dad
had given to protect herself with. And just as this man went over the bank to get
down to the creek, why she shot at him. And, of course she missed him. I say of
course, because I don't think that she was really aiming at him. She just wanted to
scare him. And I expect he got scared when he heard that bullet singing through the
tree limbs. That's just one of the things that happened before I was born.
The following addendum is from notes taken by oldest daughter Ruthie Crandall
after a conversation with Johnnie about his life.
When dad was four years old his first memory is of working in the fields. One day he
and Uncle Omer sneaked off to pitch horseshoes and saw that their house was on fire.
Grandma and Grandpa were asleep inside and they ran to get them out. They lost
everything except what they were wearing. This is a shame for those of us who are
trying to do genealogy as all Linder family history up to that time was in a trunk in
that house and it all burned up. The family moved into one of Grandpa Morgans'
rental houses temporarily. But soon moved into one of their own as Grandpa Linder
had a great desire to be independent.
They spent their Christmas's with Grandma and Grandpa Morgan. Dad says
Grandma Morgan was a "Princess of a woman" and all ways made their Christmas
a wonderful time. Being at Grandpa Morgans' was their first experience of indoor
plumbing.
Dad remembers going with his father and brother to take a load of hay into town by
horse and wagon. This was an all day job, and they brought a load of hulls back as
well as a little red wagon for dad. This was his Christmas present for that year.
Dad started school when he was age seven as there was no kindergarten and you had
to be seven to start first grade. Dad went though his sophomore year at this school.
One time he and some other boys were giving the teacher a hard time, she threatened
to send them to the principal. The principal was outside the door and said, "I will
take them now." When he got them all in his office he told them "If you want a
whipping go outside and cut a switch and I will use it on you. Dad thought about
what he said and the "if you want a spanking" stuck out. Well, dad didn't want a
whipping and, therefore, didn't cut a switch. When they got back into the principal's
office he asked dad why. When dad told him, he carefully hid a smile and then sent
him back to class without a whipping. He graduated from the eighth grade in cap and
gown. The ninth and tenth grades didn't make much of an impression on him, except
he took public speaking and was very good at it. He was chosen to be the M.C. of a
school program at another school.
Things weren't too good at home and he decided to leave home and moved in with
Aunt Helen and her husband Buster. This took place in the depression era when jobs
were scarce. When school was out his sophomore year he and Buster and a group of
young men decided to head west to try and find work. What they found was a very
dry country and no work. They traveled for a month in Oklahoma, Kansas and
Colorado and then decided to go to Arizona, which they found to have a lot of farm
jobs available.
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