The History of Our Dad

As Told to His Sons and Daughters

Characters/Relation to Us:

Gerald Ross (Jerry) Brown/ Dad

JoAnn Carol (Jody) Olivetti Brown/Mother

Leroy James (Brownie) Brown/Grandpa Brown

Helen Mae Louis Brown/ Grandma Brown

James Leroy (Bud) Brown/ Uncle Bud

Amy Gayle Clausen Brown/ Aunt Amy Gayle

Everett Ross (Buster) Brown/Great Grandpa Brown

Amy Viola Walker Brown/Great Grandma Brown

/Great Grandpa Louis

/Great Grandma Louis

Chapter 1: The Omaha Years, First Time Around, 1931 to 1933

Chapter 2: The Clever Years, 1933 to 1935

Chapter 3: A Short Time in Columbus, 1935

Chapter 4: The Norfolk Years, First Time Around, 1935 to 1943

Chapter 5: The Once Upon a Time Family Vacation,

1939

Chapter 6: World War II Starts, 1941

Chapter 7: The Omaha Years, the Second Time Around, 1943 to 1945

Chapter 8: Summers on the Farm

Chapter 9:

Chapter 10: The Navy and the St. Patrick's Day Blizzard

Chapter 12: Roots: Ireland and the Revolutionary War

Chapter 13: The Renown Relation

Chapter 1: The Omaha Years, First Time Around, 1931 to 1932

Our Dad, Gerald Ross (Jerry) Brown, was born in Omaha, Nebraska. "I believe it was called 'Doctor's Hospital,'" he said. "I'm sure at that time it was a charitable thing, private, and no longer there. Didn't cost anything."

Midlands 11111 South 84th Alegent Health Originally Doctors Hospital at Park

Hospital Street, Papillion Ave and Leavenworth in Omaha. Opened in 1908 and

Closed 1976

Dad's dad was Leroy James Brown, nicknamed "Brownie." He was the only child of his parents, but he had two stepsisters. Dad's mother was Helen Mae Louis. She was one of the younger of ten siblings. The Louis family were among the first settlers in Nebraska and founders of Columbus. "Your Grandpa Brown was born in October of 1910," Dad recalls. "He eloped with my mother she was 16. They were married somewhere in Iowa. Eloping was common in those days."

When Dad was born he had a brother, James Leroy Brown (our Uncle Bud) who was about a year and a half old. Twenty months later he would have a sister, Amy Gayle Brown (our Aunt Amy Gayle.) "My birth certificate states that my dad was an 'unemployed laborer.' This was during the depression," said Dad. "I believe my dad was a pipefitter for the Union Pacific Railroad for his first job in Omaha for a while. He ended up to be quite a salesman, photographer, sportsman and a pilot, as well."

Here's a brief overview of where Dad lived growing up, as near as he can remember:

1. His parents were married in 1929 and lived in Omaha where Dad was a pipefitter for the Union Pacific Railroad. He and his brother and were born in Omaha. The depression started in October of 1929.
2. They moved to Clever, Missouri with his grandparents, Everett and Viola Brown in 1932. His dad worked at their peach farm. His sister was born there.
3. They moved from Clever to Columbus, Nebraska in 1935 when his dad got a job with the Workers Project Association building a canal. He thinks he started kindergarten there.
4. They moved from Columbus to Norfolk, Nebraska later in 1935 when his dad got a job with Firestone as a brake adjuster. His mother worked for J.C. Penneys in Norfolk.
5. The war broke out in 1941, and in 1943 they moved to Omaha where his dad worked for Union Pacific Railroad again, this time as a brakeman. This was when dad was 12, starting 7th grade. That's when his parents broke up for about a while, and his brother and he went to live with their Uncle Ritchie in Monroe. His sister went to live with their Grandparents who were now in Lincoln.
6. In 1945, after the war had ended, they moved back to Norfolk. He was in 9th grade. His dad worked as a manager of a feed store for a man named Vaughn Knotts until the business went belly up. Then our grandpa started working for the Gooch Milling Company. He was top salesman there for many years, and was working for them when he died in 1964.

Chapter 2: The Clever Years, 1932 to 1935

"When things weren't going so well in Omaha for my dad, we moved to Clever, Missouri," said Dad. "Clever is 30 miles north of Branson. We lived with my grandparents. My Dad's dad, that is your Great Grandpa Brown, was Everett Ross Brown, but everyone called him Buster Brown. He worked for many years on the Union Pacific Railroad in Omaha where he had worked his way up to the top to be a conductor. A conductor was like the captain of a ship. Everybody on the train reported to the conductor. The conductor and the engineers slept in the caboose. After he retired from there, Buster Brown bought a peach farm in Clever, Missouri. ...No, he never made shoes!"

The Train Conductor in North America

The conductor is the railway employee charged with the management of a freight, passenger, or various other types of train, and is also the direct supervisor of the train's "Train Crew" (brakeman, flagman, ticket collector, assistant conductor,on board service personnel). All train crew members on board the train work under his or her direction. The Conductor andEngineer, who is in charge of the locomotive(s) and any additional members of the "Engine Crew" (fireman, pilot engineer) share responsibility for the safe and efficient operation of the train and for the proper application of the railways' rules and procedures. On some railroads, Conductors are required to progress to the position of Engineer as part of union contractual agreements.

Conductors usually have the following responsibilities:

Jointly coordinating with the engineer and dispatcher the train's movement authority, and verifying this authority is not exceeded.

Communicating and coordinating with other parties concerned with the operation of the train: yardmasters, trainmasters, dispatchers, on board service personnel, etc.

Being alert to wayside signals, position of switches, and other conditions affecting the safe movement of the train.

Mechanical inspection of the rolling stock.

Assisting the Engineer in testing the air brakes on the train.

Signalling the Engineer when to start moving and when and where to stop.

Keeping a record or log of the journey.

Checking the tickets and collecting fares on passenger trains.

Attending to the needs of passengers.

On a freight train, keeping the record of the consignment notes and waybills.

Directing, coordinating, and usually manually performing, the shunting or switching the train needs to perform.

Since nearly the beginning of railroading in North America, on freight trains the conductor rode aboard a caboose, along with the rear flagman and the rear brakeman, and was able to perform his or her duties from there.

"I remember bits and pieces of living there in Clever, Missouri. My Grandpa Brown, as I said, had retired from the railroad and owned a peach farm there. Work was available in the peach orchards, so we moved in with them, and my dad worked in the peach orchard for awhile."

"I remember my Grandpa Brown smoked cigars and chewed, for one thing. The story goes that I kept pestering my grandpa and finally he gave in and gave me a chew. Naturally I spit it right out, and the story that was repeated maybe 500 times after that was that I said, 'I don't like that, and I don't like you!' Of course, I don't remember it since I was three years old, but that's what I'm told. My brother liked to repeat that story a lot," Dad said with a smile and a roll of the eyes.

"Your Great Grandpa Brown had a 1929 Dodge Sedan with wooden spokes and everything," Dad said. "He would have to go to the city seat to get the licenses since he lived in rural Missouri." Our Great Grandpa Brown would bring his little grandson Jerry along on trips into town for this and other things, and he would have to stop the car several times along the way whenever there was water on the road. Drainage systems weren't as good then as they are now. Jerry would get out of the care each time and walk down the road and through the water, so his Grandpa could see how deep it was, to know if he should drive across!

Chapter 3: A Short Time in Columbus, 1935

Dad was 3 or 4 when the family moved from Clever to Columbus. His father got a job with the WPA: The Works Projects Administration, a New Deal program to provide jobs. They were building the Loop River Canal. There are two rivers in Columbus: the Loop River and the Platte River. One of the WPA projects was to dig a canal to divert the water from the Loop River to run the power plant. Dad remembers driving out there with his mother to pick up his dad after work, and staying a while to watch them dig the canal.

Works Progress Administration

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

The Works Progress Administration (renamed during 1939 as the Work Projects Administration; WPA) was the largest New Deal agency, employing millions to carry outpublic works projects, including the construction of public buildings and roads, and operated large arts, drama, media, and literacy projects. It fed children and redistributed food, clothing, and housing. Almost every community in the United States had a park,bridgeor school constructed by the agency, which especially benefited rural andWesternpopulations. Expenditures from 1936 to 1939 totaled nearly $7 billion.^[1]

Pretty soon our Grandpa Brown got a job with Firestone where one of Grandma Brown's brothers also worked. Back then, brakes on cars were not hydraulic as they are now. They were mechanical, and in constant need of adjusting. Grandpa Brown, Dad learned from someone later in life, got very good at this skill, and became one of the top brake adjusters around, so when the need for a good brake adjuster occurred in Norfolk, they moved there, when Dad was still 4, so they didn't live in Columbus very long.

History of Automobiles from Wikipedia

The 12hp and the 14hp [Automobiles] were introduced in 1937 and continued until the start of the war in 1939 when production ceased and the factory concentrated on manufacturing for the war effort.

Post-war car production commenced in 1946 with updated vehicles based on the pre-war designs. The 14hp Saloon and Sports were luxurious and sporty vehicles, and were popular, if expensive. Eventually, a more powerful 2 1/2 liter engine and improved chassis with independent front suspension and hydraulic brakes were introduced across the range.

Chapter 4: The Norfolk Years, First Time Around,

1935 to 1943

The family then moved to Norfolk, Nebraska, in the fall of 1936, just before Dad turned 5.

Dad finished kindergarten there in Norfolk. "We lived across the street from the school, he said. "It had a fire escape from 2nd to the 1st floor. We used to slide down it for fun."

He remembers going to school one day, and as he walked along he met a kid playing in his yard. " I stopped to talk to him. Suddenly we heard the bell ring. 'We'd better get to school,' I said to my new friend. They boy said, 'Oh, I don't go to school,' so I had to run like the dickens and was late for school!" The young boy must have been younger and not of age to attend school.

Dad believes he started school at age 4 because Grandma Brown convinced the school he should. Why? "She wanted to go to work to earn some income for the family. Your

Grandma Brown worked at J.C. Penney's there in Norfolk.

It was unusual back then, for mothers to work."

Now our Grandpa Brown had a "pretty good personality" and eventually Firestone trained him in the sales department. " Firestone didn't just sell tires, oh no. They also sold lawn mowers, power tools, refrigerators...you name it. "Our family moved several times in Norfolk, every six months for a while." Dad remembers one day asking his mother why they were moving again! "To save a little money," she told me. When the rent would go up, they'd look for a new home. They lived for a while on 13th Street, three doors down from the Carson family, as in Johnny Carson. Dad recalls the rent was $25 a month. People rented houses more back then than they do now.

They did finally buy a house on...12 something Pierce Street, in 1939. Dad overheard his parents say they had saved $200 for the down payment. That house probably cost about $2000.

Dad knows they lived in that house when he was in 3rd grade due to an "incident." The first teacher Dad remembers was for 3rd grade, Miss Quick, so he would have been 7 or 8. Teachers couldn't be married back then. She was probably in her 40s. Dad claims he wasn't always an... ideal student, and he may have liked to play the part of a "hot shot" once in a while. They lived about three blocks from the Washington Grammar School. "In those days the school names were either Washington, Lincoln, Jefferson or Madison." " I suppose I wised off in school," Dad recalls. "I don't remember exactly what happened... but Miss Quick elected to expel me from the classroom to wait in the hall. Well, after she sent me out there, I just kept going and walked all the way home. About thirty minutes later Miss Quick was at our front door where I was with my Grandpa [Buster] Brown. As I recall, he really read her the riot act about how she had treated his grandson, falsely accusing him and everything, and so on and so forth. My Grandpa Brown thought she must have overreacted to whatever it was I had said. Did she overreact? Well, she probably reacted like she should have. My Grandpa Brown was just going to defend his grandson and that was all there was to it."

Chapter 5: The Once Upon a Time Family Vacation,

1939

"Eventually my grandparents (Buster and Amy Viola) lived in San Francisco," said Dad. "My Dad had two half sisters. His Dad, Buster, had been married before and had two daughters from that first marriage, Blanch and Hazel. The story goes that their mother up and left. Then my Grandpa met and married Amy Viola, who was a school teacher and a seamstress, and together they had my dad. Blanch and Hazel were maybe five and seven when my dad was born. They doted on him."

"Blanch married Lon Asch. Lon worked for the railroad. I remember he always had trouble breathing. He served in the war and was injured with mustard gas. The Germans used mustard gas in WW I. Blanch and Lon had one daughter, JoAnne. She was my dad's cousin and about the same age. Blanch and Lon also lived in San Francisco at this time, with my grandparents, Buster and Amy Viola."

"Hazel married Roy Hart. They lived in Dayton, Ohio, and owned a cabinet shop. They had three children, Barbara, and two sons."

"My Mother was from a big family. She had five sisters and four brothers. Herb was one of the brothers. My uncle Herb was great friends with my Dad. Back in 1939 the World's Fair came to San Francisco, so the family decided to drive there, along with Uncle Herb and his wife, Gertrude. We would be able to stay with Blanch and Lon, and Buster and Amy."

"My dad had bought a car, a 1935 Ford, four door stick shift sedan. The seven of us piled into that car, my Dad and Herb in the front with one of the three kids; My mother and aunt Gertrude in the back with the other two kids. Amy Gayle was 5 and I was about 7. I remember Bud, age 8, picking on me unmercifully. I spent most of the trip on the floor at my mother's feet."

"We stayed in camps along the way in places like Green River, Wyoming, where Green River Soda Pop came from. Highways were gravel back then, as we travelled through the Rocky Mountains. We behaved pretty well because Dad would give you a whack if you didn't. The car didn't have air conditioning, of course. It may have had a radio."

"Crossing the desert we had to stop often and put water bags across the front of the car to prevent the radiator from overheating. They had lots of car trouble, but nothing that Brownie and Herb couldn't fix."

"We arrived in San Francisco. Their house had a four season porch on the front which is where we slept. All I remember about the World's Fair is that there was much activity - A big Ferris wheel, people all over. They had an early stage, you may call it a prototype, T.V. on display. That was the big attraction."

In 1939 the world was treated to two World's Fairs. While the New York one is the better known of the two, San Francisco also entertained visitors with the Golden Gate International Exposition. Held on the newly built Treasure Island, the GGIE was a smaller event, featuring pavilions with striking architectural designs, fountains, statues and colorful floral displays. The Exposition was successful enough that it was retained for a second season in 1940.

TELEVISION IN THE WORLD OF TOMORROW

Television in the United States made its formal debut at the World's Fair in New York City on Sunday April 30, 1939 with the first Presidential address on Television by Franklin D. Roosevelt. The signal was sent by the Telemobile (RCA's mobile Television van) to the Empire State transmitter and rebroadcast. The New York Times reported the broadcast was received in strategic locations and the pictures were clear and steady.

Ten days prior to Roosevelt's speech, David Sarnoff, President of the Radio Corporation of America (RCA), made the dedication speech for the opening of the RCA Pavilion at the New York World's Fair. Staging this event prior to the World's Fair opening ceremonies ensured that RCA would capture its share of the newspaper headlines.

The ceremony was televised, and watched by several hundred viewers on TV receivers inside the RCA Pavilion at the fairgrounds, as well as on receivers installed on the 62nd floor of Radio City in Manhattan.

"In all those years until the time I left home, we never again took a family vacation," Dad said."Not because it was more trouble than it was worth. We remembered that trip fondly. You just remember the good stuff, but people back then didn't have enough to get by on, let alone take a trip. Two weeks a year was the maximum vacation time off anyone would ever get from work."

"My Grandma and Grandpa Brown would come visit us, of course. We'd meet them at the train. They had free lifetime passes since he had retired from the UP. Grandma Amy Viola always had a little present. Grandpa would always let me run to the store to get some Niles Mosier Cigar. Times were different then. He's smoke those down to the tip. He'd even put it on a toothpick to get the last little bit and smoke it until there was ash upon his lip. I remember that worried my Grandma Amy Viola because he had a pretty large mustache!"

"My Grandpa Louis would also come to visit from Columbus which would have been just an hour away today," said Dad. "He had about a '35 Chevrolet 4 door sedan. It didn't go more than 30 miles an hour; 35 at the top, so it took a couple of hours to go those 60 miles."

Chapter 6: World War II Starts, 1941

"We were living there when World War II started, December 7, 1941. My brother and sister and I were always sent to the matinee movie on Saturday, and some Sunday, afternoons. There were two theaters in Norfolk. The Realto Theater which showed Grade B movies...cowboy westerns, Gene Autry, Hop-along, Red Rider, William Boyd... The other theater was the Granada which ran first rate movies for two to three weeks. Johnny Carson worked at the Granada Theater which he would sometimes talk about on his show in later years. There were lots of cartoons before the movie stared. Mother would give us each 15 cents, enough for a hotdog from 'Coney Island' and the movie which was 9 cents."

"On December 7th, 1941, as we were watching a movie in the Granada Theater, I don't remember which one, suddenly the movie was stopped and an announcement made of an attack on Pearl Harbor. Back then there was no television, just radio and movies. ...No, we didn't leave.Some adults may have left the theater at that point, but the kids stayed to watch the rest of the movie."

Dad remembers seeing the Wizard of Oz there, in 1937. "That's right, it was 1204 South Pierce Street, and was maybe 16 blocks to the movie theater. The Granada was on 5th. We always walked to the theater. We walked everywhere ."

"Shoes were an issue during the war," Dad recalls. "As the war went on the shoes were almost like card board and you'd only get two pair a year. I had to give half my shoe stamps to my brother, because he was rougher on the shoes, I guess. I remember back then my mother always saying to me, 'Don't tromp the counter down! Don't tromp the counter down!' What does that mean? The back of the shoe. I must have sometimes smashed down the back of the shoe and that would wreck them. So Mother just kept telling me, "Don't tromp the counter down!""

Counter: What is the counter of a shoe?

By Desiree Stimpert, About.com Guide

Definition: The counter of a shoe sits behind the heel of the foot, and is used to stiffen the back part of the shoe, and to give it structure.

Pronunciation: cown-tur

Chapter 7: The Omaha Years the Second Time Around, 1943 to 1946

"In 1943 we left Norfolk and moved back to Omaha. Why would we do that? Well, remember we were at war, and every male in the country had to register for the draft. If you were 18 and single you were 4A. Married, you became a 3A. Married with kids, 2A. So you knew that if you were 4A you were going to get drafted. Dad was married with kids, but that still didn't protect him completely. It helped to work for what were called, 'essential industries.' Well, the government of course, didn't consider a feed company an essential industry. On the other hand, if you worked for a railroad you were considered essential, transporting men and goods. We had a big army back then, 3-4 million men. Working for the railroad you would be changed to a lower draft number. When he figured this out, Dad decided to move to Omaha to work for the Union Pacific Railroad again. It wasn't hard to get a job there, especially if you were as smart as he was. He went to work as a brake guy. As a brake guy, you were in charge of movement: Check the back, check the front, signal with a lantern and the train is free to go. When the train stopped it was checked again. If the conductor wasn't there, the brakeman was pretty much in charge of everything. That's why we moved to Omaha."

"I believe we moved to Omaha when I was in 7th grade. I went to Windsor School through the 8th grade,

Historical Schools in Omaha Historical schools

The Board of Education in Omaha has operated a variety of schools since its founding. They include the following schools.^[6][7]

School Year Address Miscellaneous

Windsor 1892 3401 Martha Street Marlon Brando attended grade school for a few years here

but for a while when I was in 7th grade my parents got separated or maybe even divorced. My brother and I were relocated to stay with my Uncle Richie at his farm in Monroe, Nebraska. My sister went to live with our grandparents, Buster and Any Viola. I think it was for the remainder of 7th and 8th grade. We lived there about a year on his farm. In order to graduate from elementary school you had to pass a test - the Platte County test. In Monroe I remember going to a one room school house where all the grades were together. We walked about a mile and a half, cutting through fields. Between 7th and 8th grade we moved back to Omaha. They must have kept the house, because we went back there and my parents were back together.

"We were at my Uncle Richie's place for maybe a year. I lived in Omaha most of the time during the war. I loved Omaha. You could walk everywhere. For a nickel you could get on a street car and go anywhere in the city."

"My a brother would hang out with the horse track people in Omaha, and one day he just didn't come back. My folks didn't know where he was, but they were pretty sure he was okay. They were pretty sure he went away with the horse track people."

"As I mentioned before, Mother got that job at JC Penney's and worked there until we left Norfolk and moved to Omaha. She was well liked, but got a lot of flak for working when men were out of work. Because of my mother being a little ahead of her time, we always had a really great Christmas. She loved to wrap presents."

"My mother also went to work for the UP in the billing dept. She didn't last long. She didn't like it. We lived maybe 3-5 miles from downtown. Instead, she went to work for a drug store in nearby Benson. They had a car. Of course gas was rationed so she may have taken the bus or streetcar. We lived on 38th and Castelar. There was a bus stop on 40th and Castelar. From there you could catch another bus or street car. I used to get off at 30th street where the bus stop ended. There was a drug store there. I caught the street car on 30th and took it to Leavenworth... to 16th and Leavenworth. Then I'd get on the 16th street car and take it to across the street from the high school - Omaha South - the Omaha South Packers. That's where all the meat packing plants and stockyards were, the railroads, and Johnny's Steak house, one of the best in the world. We never ate there."

"One of the families in our neighborhood was the Florey's who had a son. He and I were the same age - Phil Florey. They were from Shickly, Nebraska. Phil's dad worked for a farm store that sold harnesses, feed, buckets...This store was right across from the stockyards across from the school. I remember Phil's dad had to drive to work in his 38 Chrysler Airstream. Have you ever heard of one of those? No you wouldn't have, because they bombed. It was a new kind of car design that was very round rather that angular. Well, at that time in car design, everything had to be square."

Chrysler Airstream

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Chrysler Airstream

1936 Chrysler Airstream

The Chrysler Airstream was an automobile produced by the Chrysler division of theChrysler Corporation during the model years 1935 and 1936. The Airstream was a conventional looking automobile that was trimmed to evoke a feeling of streamlined design. A similar car, with the same Airstream name was also sold by Chrysler's companion brandDeSoto during the period.

The creation of the Airstream was an outgrowth of the unpopularity of the streamlinedChrysler Airflow, which consumers failed to embrace. The Airstream was based on the 1933 Chrysler "CO" model, which was carried over into the 1934 model year as the Chrysler "CA". When the Airflow failed to capture the attention of the buying public, Chrysler retrimmed the "CA", gave the car rear fender skirts, and rolled out a model that they hoped would appeal to Depression-era buyers. By marketing the Airstream alongside the Airflow, Chrysler could meet the needs of the public while hoping to produce enough Airflows to offset their development.

During its two years of production, the Airstream outsold the Airflow five to one in its first year, and nearly nine to one in 1936.

Chrysler discontinued the "Airstream" model name for both Chrysler and DeSoto at the beginning of the 1937 model year.

"I remember we'd ride there to his farm store in that car, wait for his dad after work and drive home. I could have walked there actually. It was just about 3 miles. They have a natural stadium there where the Omaha South Packers football team would play. It was down in the gravel pit. No, I don't know whatever happened to the Floreys."

"After the war was over we moved back to Norfolk, when I was in 9th grade. I had started school, and we moved in the middle of the year."

"What else do I remember about Omaha? I learned how to dance in Omaha. My mother took me and my sister to the YMCA. And I learned to swim there, at the Jewish Community Center, 18th and Dodge Street. It was a pretty big city, but you were safe anywhere you went. Street car or bus, you were safe."

Chapter 6: Summers on the Farm

"All the summers we lived in Omaha I would stay at my Grandfather's farm during harvest time. They grew wheat, oats and other small grains. I would stay at my Grandpa Louis' farm, but my uncle George, the oldest son on my mother's side, had a farm adjacent to Grandpas.They had one hundred and twenty acres. When my Grandpa died Uncle George got the farm because that was a German tradition. I know there was a lawsuit filed about it."

"I out and earn that's how I earned my keep. My Uncle Richie's farm in Monroe was 25 miles away, so there were a lot of farms in the family. My Uncle Charlie also had a farm, and he also a garbage route for extra money. I used to go on the garbage routes with him. Back then the stuff you put in the garbage disposal now, you'd put that in a bucket. It was called the slop bucket. The garbage man would pick up your trash and your slop bucket, which would be taken to the farms and fed to the hogs. That's why they're called hogs they'll eat anything. We'd also go to the hotel restaurants and get their slop. This made it a more profitable route. I remember my aunt Marge was really good to me - Uncle Charlie's wife. I loved to go on those garbage routes with him.

History of waste and recycling information sheet

In early pre-industrial times waste was mainly composed of ash from fires, wood, bones, bodies and vegetable waste. It was disposed of in the ground where it would act as compost and help to improve the soil. Ancient rubbish dumps excavated in archaeological digs reveal only tiny amounts of ash, broken tools and pottery. Everything that could be was repaired and reused, populations were smaller, and people lived in less concentrated groups. However, the transition from nomadic hunter-gatherer to farmer meant that waste could no longer be left behind, and it soon became a growing problem.

Until the Industrial Revolution when materials became more available than labour, reuse and recycling was commonplace. Nearly 4000 years ago there was a recovery and reuse system of bronze scrap in operation in Europe and there is evidence that composting was carried out in China. Reuse and recycling has always existed in the form of salvage, an ages-old tradition stretching forward to the Rag-and-Bone men. Traditionally, recovered materials have included leather, feathers and down, and textiles. Recycling included feeding vegetable wastes to livestock and using green waste as fertiliser. Pigs were often used as an efficient method of disposing of municipal waste. Timber was often salvaged and reused in construction and ship-building. Materials such as gold have always been melted down and re-cast numerous times. Later recovery activities included scrap metal, paper and non-ferrous metals.

However, as city populations increased, space for disposal decreased, and societies had to begin developing waste disposal systems.

"On the farm I remember my cousins and I, one of our jobs was to hoe the weeds and dandelions out of the crops. Were there snakes? Oh yes. Uncle George and Grandpa's raised alfalfa and small grains. Uncle Charlie didn't raise small grains, just corn. For the small grain harvest they had a combine - a machine that cut the wheat. Most of this process was driven by horses. The combine would then bundle the wheat and bind it. That is, when things went well, but at times things would break down. I'd go with my Grandpa or Uncle into Richland to get repair items, between Columbus and Skylar."

"So anyway, here's all these bundles this tall and this round. My job would be to shock the wheat.You'd set these bundles together upright in a shock so the air would dry out the crop.They needed airflow, of course, to dry out and not rot. In that business, there's number one and number two. Number one is dryer and you get a better price for it, so you wanted it as dry asyou could get it. The next job was the threshing machine which several farmers owned together.Farmers would come together and have a tractor on one end and the harvester on the other, and run a track between them." You pitch those bundles on the dock which it in tossed it into the threshing machine. The threshing machine would separate the wheat from the chaff.Then you'd take the straw back to the barn. Well, there would be a couple weeks go by between shocking the wheat and tossing it in the thresher. That's when you'd go to pitch the bundles up, and there were the snakes! As soon as you'd expose them, they'd scurry away.That's where I got used to snakes."

"Maybe 8 families owned the threshing machine together, and would move it from one farm to the next. You'd start real early before it got too hot. About one o'clock in the afternoon the women would come out with mash potatoes and chicken and lemonade made with lemons...the best food you could ever imagine. Then Grandpa and I would go take a siesta. We'd come back an hour later and work until six or seven o'clock, until the sun went down. You prayed it wouldn't rain, unless there was a drought. Then you'd pray it would rain, but I don't recall doing that at any other of the farms. My Uncle Jake at that time ran the farm for my grandfather. Sometime during the war Uncle Jake left the farm and moved to Freemont where the Mead Ordinance Plant was located. It was a base where they manufactured ammunition - shells mainly. He worked there during the war. That way he got a better deferment."

Grandpa's Ice Cream

"When I spent those summers with my grandfather, every Sunday he'd have to go check the rivers. He'd have on his Sunday best. We'd get in the car. Didn't go to church. We'd go 10-15 miles an hour. We'd go to town. Then we'd go left to the rivers, the Platte and Loop Rivers, to see how high they were and make sure they weren't too high. I don't remember them ever being too high. We'd then go to the oldest tavern west of the Missouri River in Columbus: Gluer's. This was during the 30s and 40s, and all you could get at that bar was beer. You could play pool there, too.Well, on one side of the store there was ice cream to buy. My grandpa would take me in there and we'd buy two ice cream cones. When we left the tavern, I'd carry out both the cones, pretending one was for my sister. He didn't want his friends to know he was going to eat the ice cream cone, which we ate on the way home."

"My last summer going to the farm was after 8th grade."

Chapter 7: The Depression Years Weren't so Depressing

Today we're sitting in the infusion center at Fairview University Medical Center, on April 2 , 2010. Our dad, our mom, and me (Judy Gayle), the note taker and recorder. Yes, Dad bought me a digital recorder. What a step up from the obsolete little cassette tape recorder I used to have. Like it or not, you'll now notice quite a bit more detail in this discourse, thanks to that handy little device.

Separated from other patients receiving chemotherapy by a thin drape on either side, Dad is all hooked up to the IV pump. Sister Teri calls to see how things are going. "He's getting the works today," I tell her. "Avastin for chemotherapy, and a shot of Aranesp to boost his hemoglobin, and a dose of Zometa to strengthen his bones, and some anti-testosterone medicine. Yes, he's doing great." Our nurse is Susie. She's wonderful. Got the IV started just like that. All the nurses are great. So competent, so friendly.

We decide to back up a bit, and just make sure the record is straight and fill in a few details.

"My dad's first job was in Omaha as a pipefitter for the Union Pacific Railroad which had its headquarters there," said Dad. " In Omaha they had the big 'roundhouses' they called them, where the trains would come in for tune ups and repair. The depression wasn't quite on then. The start of the depression was October of 1929. That's when the market first really tanked, and it lasted into the late '30's - actually the '40s before we were back to full employment. At that time Roosevelt convinced people that we needed to prepare for war, and they country started making armaments. He had a way of getting around congress, which today wouldn't work. He did do a better job of preparing us for war than a lot of Republicans wanted to do at that time."

At this point the nurse in charge of taking care of Dad and giving him all of his medications that day, interrupts us to let us know she's going to go to lunch. "I'm going to go eat lunch, Jerry," she said. "Pat will be in charge of you, okay?"

"We know Pat," says Jody.

"Yeah, give him lots to do, lots to do."

"We will, we will," says Jody.

"Have a good lunch. Eat healthy, as we say in the nation's capital," says Dad with a chuckle. This is the week the Obama Administration decreed that restaurants of a specific size must post calorie counts in their menus next to their food offerings.

"All right!" says the nurse.

"So," Dad continues, "My parents got married in January of 1929, and the stock market crashed in October. Dad must have lost his job at some point after that, because we moved to Clever within my first year, sometime in 1932."

"We must have lived out in the country because I remember walking up the country lane to the gas station for penny candy in Clever. I'd go up there with a couple of pennies, and he'd give me two for one instead of just one for one. I must have been 4 when they moved away to Columbus in 1935, because I started kindergarten in Columbus in September of 1935 when I was four years old. But we moved to Norfolk very soon after that. I finished kindergarten in Norfolk."

"Almost every summer from the time I was maybe 8 or 9 years old, until between the 8th and 9th grade, I spent my summers at my grandparents slash aunts and uncles places in and around Columbus. They pretty much shipped me off for the summer. I'd go to my grandfather Louis'. I don't know where my brother was. I know he wasn't with me. But I know that every summer, I would go to Columbus and my grandpa Louis would put me in the car, we would drive into town, and we would park in front of the dime store and he would take me in and buy me my straw hat. So I'd have a new straw hat every summer." Dad chuckled at that thought.

"What about Grandma Louis? She died in 1928. I never knew my grandmother Louis. I don't know anyone who did."

"Did you know anything about her personality?" "Not a thing. Not a thing. What kind of a mother she was? I don't know."

"Busy," said Jody.

"Busy," agreed Dad. "My Grandma and Grandpa Louis had 10 kids. He died in the 40's. And I think that's worth mentioning. I think that's why my mother was such a good baker. They were all of German heritage. Everybody worked, and everybody had their area that they more or less specialized in. My guess is my mother was the chief baker. They weren't all the same age, of course. She was younger, but apparently that chore passed down to her, and whoever taught her how to bake, really know what the hell they were doing. Now that could have been an aunt, or maybe one of her older sisters. Could have been her mother."

"What kind of things do you remember?"

"Well, what do you think, Jody? The pies, the bread?"

"I don't think she had any recipes," said Jody.

"She just did it by rote," said Dad. "Pies were always special. Every day she made bread, these big loaves. And then those sweet rolls, she'd make these caramel rolls. Boy were they good. But everything she made, mmm. And her pie crusts. Her pie crusts were just so thin and crisp...ew! Everybody loved my Mother's homemade pies, and when there were gatherings, she'd make cobbler. Man she'd make good cobbler. She never measured. She never measured anything." Dad was unreserved in his praise of his mother's baking skills.

"Did I tell you about how we'd do canning together every summer?"

"Was this when you were with your aunts and uncles?"

"No, this was at home, so it must have been toward the end of the summer, when I was home. It would depend when the stores would get in their peaches, and strawberries. You know in those days the produce came from local producers. That's another thing I need to mention is the Victory Gardens."

"So let's get back to canning. What kind of things did you can?"

"Okay, well Peaches...she even made catsup. But we'd can green beans, peas, tomatoes...anything, whatever, you name it. We'd have shelves in the basement with all the canned goods, and that's what everybody did in those days. Can everything. And it was an assembly line. My mother, and my brother, my sister and I all worked. My job was to sterilize the bottles, the jars. I'd have to take this great big pot of boiling water, and you'd take tongs and you'd drop the jars into the big pot of boiling water, and hold it in a few seconds, and just keep rotating them in. You talk about the middle of the summer? Hot? No air conditioning? But that was my job, to sterilize the jobs."

"You never did anything different?"

"I expect I did every phase of it at some point or another, but my main function, was to sterilize the jars. They would bring home crates of stuff from the grocery store, or we'd grow 'em in the garden."

"It was just you and your mom and your brother and sister? It wasn't like a big neighborhood thing?"

"Did your Dad help?" asked Jody.

"My dad had to work, so, no, I don't recall my Dad being involved. But I don't recall a lot. Okay, another thing I thought I should mention is the Victory Gardens. I remember especially the last house we lived in on Pierce Street. There were a lot of vacant lots, and during WWII, the government encouraged everyone to have a Victory Garden. I think they probably provided seeds, I don't know, but anyway, we always had a garden in our other houses, but they were in the back yard. Here we went over to those empty lots, and we probably had half an acre. We grew a lot more...sweet corn, tomatoes, all the things you'd normally grow, but I always remember the potatoes. We had a lot of potatoes. And I just remember the potatoes because you'd have to divide the seedlings. You'd always have to cut them with the eye up. I remember being told, 'Get the eyes up, Jerry! Get the eyes up!' Anyway, everybody had Victory Gardens, but in this instance, I don't know if they paid a little rent on that lot or if the city owned the lot, but it was a big lot, and my dad was a good gardener."

"So what was the purpose? Why were they called, Victory Gardens?"

Dad seemed surprised at the question. "It was to reserve food for the soldiers. We needed to send our soldiers food first. So everybody, instead of going to the grocery store and buying food, they would grow their own."

Jody added, "Something I remember from that time was they didn't have hosiery for women, so the women would draw a black line down their leg, because their hose had a seam in it, so this way it would appear they had hose on." We all chuckled at that.

"Well, remember the depression was still on. People had less money than they'd had before, so everybody had a garden, to save money, really. People have gardens now, but not like they did then."

"Beep, beep, beep. Beep, beep , beep. Beep, beep beep." Here comes Pat to attend to the IV.

"So that's where you got your green thumb...and your love for working in the yard."

"Well, that, and I spent my summers on the farms. They had big gardens on the farm, and part of my chores was to weed the garden, and go get the eggs. All the barns had these stalls where the horses fed, and these areas boarded off where the chickens would nest and leave their eggs in there. I'd go with my egg basket and get the eggs out and put them in the basket. I did all kinds of chores. I never was very good at milking the cows. I was pretty young, so anything that required much strength I wasn't so good at. I could only milk half as fast as my grandpa and my uncles, and it wasn't fast enough. The cows get tired, too, and they'd let you know when they were tired of being milked. They swish their tail and start to kick their back leg up."

Our nurse is back from lunch and comes over to tend to the IV. "He's telling her his life history and she's taking it down," says Jody to the nurse.

"Oh...cool!" she says.

"Dad, did you go to the farms all the way through high school?"

"Oh no. The summer between 8th and 9th was my last summer on the farm. That summer was particularly memorable. I spent part of that summer at my uncle Charlie's farm. He was the garbage collector and farmer. He also had horses, and we would go horseback riding, so me and my cousins, my cousins Elaine and Marvin and I, we go out horseback riding. They lived right across the street from Riverside Park. They were close by the town. So anyway one time we were coming home from whatever we had been doing all afternoon, galloping down the gravel road, and the saddle strap gave way. I fell forward on my face into the gravel. You see where that tooth is chipped off? That's when that happened. So I got to walk into school my freshman year, my first year of high school at South High in Omaha, with bandages all over my face. I imagine I made a really great impression," he said with a grin.

"Now your brother wasn't there on the farm with you?"

"No, where he was when I was 12, 13, spending the summers on the farms, I don't know. I don't recall him being there with me on the farm. I think he stayed home with my parents."

"He didn't like the farm?"

"Well, I can't imagine that he didn't, but just I don't remember him being there with me. I imagine half the reason that they separated us was because he picked on me so much. I don't know what he did in the summers. You'd have to ask him, but he left, oh, I would guess, while I was a freshman in high school, maybe even a little sooner. He may have left before he started school. He just disappeared as far as I know. They thought he was with the horse racers. He ended up joining the army later."

"So what do you remember about high school?"

"Oh, I wanted to mention a few things more about earlier than that and the depression. Small time America probably had a different take on the depression from what you'd see in newsreels, where the focus was on the large cities where unemployment lines were real long. You'd see all those soup lines. We didn't have that, that I can recall. Norfolk was 7,280 people pretty much all through the '30s. Populations didn't change that much. If you didn't have enough money to see a doctor, the doctor didn't charge you anything. Everybody could see the doctor. People helped each other out more then. Everybody knew each other, and half the people were related to each other. It was not good but...I remember the dentist would give free checkups to all kids 8 years old, or 10, whatever. If your parents couldn't afford it, they check your kids teeth, and if they had cavities, they'd fix them. Maybe they'd get paid, maybe they wouldn't. You don't see so much of that side of things when you read or hear about the depression. People helped each other out. They would all share. Almost everyone had relatives on a farm, and they'd take you in if need be. There weren't the soup lines like you'd read about in the newspaper that were going on in the big cities."

"Anything else about the depression years?"

"Well, I didn't know we were poor until much later in life. My mother always had enough soap on hand to give us a bath, and we always had enough food. We didn't know we weren't eating a totally balance U.S. Department of Agriculture approved diet. You just made do with what you made do with, like I say. Everybody was the same. If you were to be considered poor in small town America, you really had to be poor. I mean, there were people who didn't have as much money as others, but there were no big displays of wealth anyplace in town. There was one part of town, the northwest, and some of the people who owned businesses and had more money tended to live. We lived where the working class people lived. There wasn't that much of a distinction. And my dad had a job with Firestone."

Chapter 8: From Omaha Back to Norfolk, March of 1946

"So let's go back to that transition from Omaha to Norfolk."

"Okay, so I was born in Omaha where Dad was a pipefitter for UP. The depression came and we eventually moved to Clever. Then we moved to Columbus where Dad worked for the WPA for a short time, and then moved to Norfolk where he worked for Firestone. Then we moved to Omaha where he worked for UP again."

"So after WWII, which ended in the summer of 1945, the railroads went into a big recession. They'd been hauling troops and tanks and oil and guns, and all kinds of things for all those years, and all of a sudden those things weren't needed anymore. The railroad had cut back on the number of trains that were running. The employees had less and less work. Trips as a brakeman were going down. Bottom line, as far as my dad was concerned, he had fewer and fewer work hours on UP."

"It took a while for the economy to recover after the war. There was a shortage of a lot of things for a couple of years. Converting back to providing for consumers verses the war effort took some time. Automobiles were in short supply until the late 1940s. Factories had to be converted, re-staffed, and retrained. The government was afraid that with this pent up demand we'd get into inflation, so they curtailed such things as credit. You couldn't buy a car unless you had a big down payment. Same with a house. Dampers were put on growth as much as possible by the federal reserve board and other agencies. Price controls that were set up during the war were continued, to prevent black market and windfall opportunities. There were limits on how you could spend money. So the economy was more or less stagnant for a couple of years, and Dad's not getting enough work in Omaha. We had to move."

"I think the plan always was to move back to Norfolk after the war, but nobody knew when that was going to happen. We moved back to Norfolk in early March of 1946, right before the end of my Freshman year of high school. I remember it well because the Nebraska state high school basketball tournaments were on. I had no more than 6 weeks left in my Freshman year. My friends were on the team. Students would flock to Lincoln to go to the tournaments, often unsupervised, so it was an fun time to be in high school in Omaha at South High, and I had to leave. There I was at Norfolk Senior High School in Norfolk, and I didn't know anybody. Schools in Norfolk were not as good as Omaha. They didn't have any courses comparable to South High in Omaha. That was really tough."

"In Norfolk, Dad went to work for Northeastern Nebraska Oil Company, owned by Vaughn Knott. They made him a feed store general manager and he was very successful. Well, Knott went bankrupt. Dad had worked there a year or two in , and suddenly Vaughn Knott absconded with some money and his girlfriend. He cleaned out what was left of the business and disappeared."

"Was he married?"

Oh yes. So I remember Dad told me, he and the other workers opened the cash register and took what money was in there to pay themselves for a couple of weeks notice, and left."

"Now he's unemployed and looking for a job. He knew just about everybody in town, and he had a great reputation. Now this is an example of small town America. There was a radio station in Norfolk, WJAG, and on certain day of the week, they'd announce the job openings, like so and so needed help with thus and such, for so much an hour. Well, the guy who did the announcing, I think his name was Les Frances, he called my dad."

"The phone rang and he said, 'Brownie, I just got this call from Gooch Milling Company, and you were in the meat business so you know them. They're looking for a salesman, and I'm going to keep this announcement here until after you call them and talk to them, if you want to.' So my Dad did call, and they said they'd be very interested in talking to him. Gooch Milling was headquartered in Lincoln, so he went to Lincoln and met with a guy names Browner, Sales Manager, and got the job."

"In those days, Gooch milling was an integrated company. They had flour products as well as animal feed and livestock products. He started out going to grocery stores talking to them about Gooches macaroni and all kinds of pasta products, spaghetti, things like that, and part of his time out he'd call on meat dealers. He had this territory, and everything that Gooch made they sold within that territory. Eventually they separated out the animal products, and they made my dad the animal feed salesman, because that was his area of expertise. My uncle being in the business probably helped him a little bit. So this is in the late '40s, and then year after year after year was their leading salesman. I remember one year he won a trip to Minneapolis to see the Ice Palace Festival. Won a watch once. They kept increasing his territory."

At this point the nurse interrrupts. " I have your Avastin, she says. "I have Avastin for Gerald Brown, B R O W N, she spells out. Date of birth?"

"Twelve eighteen nineteen thirty one."

"That' right!" she said. "We'll run this over one hour."

"Okay." We can hear a little kid crying a few curtain doors down from us, breaking our hearts.

Dad continued, "I can tell you this, they offered my dad the promotion to sales manager, but my mother would not move to Lincoln."

"Was that when you were in high school?"

"Oh yeah, maybe beyond that. He was extremely successful. Gooch Milling Company is still in business. When he died, there were just tons of dealers from all over Northwest Nebraska and South Dakota at his funeral. He'd had a heart attack in December of 1963 and survived that. He died in May of 1964, at age 53. "

"So he was working there and everything is going great and suddenly he died. It was kind of in the prime of his life."

"Yes it really was," Dad replied. "Kids were raised. It's the time you start putting money away for your old age. He was the tops of his profession. He was a good sales man. He liked people. And he had my uncles, so if he needed to know anything about agriculture, he could go right to the experts. He'd been selling to farmers for years when he worked for Firestone and Nebraska Oil Company. He worked on salary and commission."

"So back to you, Dad. Tell me about high school."

"I worked my way through high school. In my family, getting a job was everything. My first hourly wage job was between 9th and 10th grade, so I was 15. I worked at the Norfolk Cafe. My friend Billy McNeeley's parents owned it. Bill's now in prison, but that's another story. It was a very good cafe, downtown Norfolk. They absolutely took advantage of their employees. I was paid 16 cents an hour to work 10 hour days, from 6 in the morning until 2 in the afternoon. I was a bus boy. Then I'd come back at from 6 six in the evening and work until 8pm. I'd make $1.60 a day."

"Even back then that was terrible?"

"What Minimum wage was 40 cents an hour. They were exempt from the minimal wage. They were absolutely the cheapest people in the world. The only good thing that came out of that job was there was a guy that come there every day, Mr. Art Ravenscroft, who was the manager of the dime store, Woolworths across the street, who ate lunch there every day. One night the phone rang at our house, and it was Mr. Ravenscroft , and he asked me if I'd be interested in working at the dime store, 4-6pm and every Sat. for $.40 an hour. The reason he said he called was that he was impressed with how hard I worked and didn't break dishes and so forth."

"So then I got the job at the dime store. I swept out the store after they closed, and distribute merchandise. In the basement of the dime store, there was a counter where a lady and her assistant in charge of the shipping department sat. When they made a delivery they would slide the merchandise down the chute to them. They would open the boxes and check the boxes against their invoices to make sure it was all there. I'd take the merchandise upstairs to the right department to be put on the shelves."

"The dime stores in those days were divided into departments with a counter for each department. The ladies would write down what they needed to replenish what they'd sold that day. I'd take those slips and go back and get the merchandise, bring it to them. These ladies who were very territorial. My main job was to fill those orders and sweep out the store. They closed at 6 o'clock, except Saturday nights they'd close at 9pm. That's when I figured out you don't have to watch the whole movie to figure out what happened."

"Huh?'

"See, if I had a date on a Saturday night, which I did a lot, I'd have to leave the movie about 9:15, go sweep out the store, and come back. I mean, it was just understood that if you were going to date Jerry Brown, you were going to have to sit there by yourself for about twenty minutes while he went and swept out the dime store. I could always figure out what happened. Your mother has to hear every word," he said with a laugh.

"So I was working there until I was a senior in high school. The business world was beginning to change then. So Mr. Ravenscroft was told he had to lay off all non sales related jobs. They were eliminating counters and putting in checkout lanes. He really felt bad when he told me he'd have to let me go along with a lot of those counter ladies. The managers had to do a lot more. Mr. Ravenscroft really felt bad when he told me he was going to have to let me go. I remember he even cried. "

"But it was a good thing, because it was after the first semester of my senior year. I ended up being able to be in the class play the second semester. Since I'd work all through high school I hadn't participated in many activities, so I'd go to the YMCA and play volleyball. I got pretty good at volleyball."

"Did you save your money?" Jody asked.

"I had a savings account over in the post office. They had postal savings accounts at that time. The way it worked, my dad and mom gave me a couple of dollars a week, plus I'd make about 7 dollars a week. So I saved the $2 a week my parents gave me. It taught me to save."

"So I was in the play Great Expectations, and I stole the show according to a news article I have somewhere. I think I played the role of Falstaff."

"Did your parents see the play?"

"My parents did not come to see it. It was a great disappointment for me, and that's why I never missed anything you kids ever did. Even when I was travelling all the time, I always made it back. They did come to high school graduation. I don't blame my parents for any of my shortcomings. They didn't have guidance, and they didn't know how to give guidance. I didn't know how to give guidance to my kids, but I know they got more than I got. My parents were small town, their horizons were that small town. My dad told me he could get me a job with White Cross Health Insurance, and he told me if I do that, he would buy me a car. Well, I wanted to go to college, and my mother said she'd help me pay for it. After I went, he was real happy."

"They just didn't have good counseling back then. The high school counselor was the assistant principal. I remember I took all these tests and I was above normal IQ, but the counselor asked me where I worked, so I told him about the drug store, and he said that working at the drug store was probably a good job for me. Well, that may have been true. I suppose I could have worked there and maybe become a manager, but there was no real serious guidance for us. No list of options to consider."

"How many people went to college back then?"

"Out of my class, probably 12 out of 115 went to college? Maybe more. There were a number of different colleges, but I just wanted to go to the University of Nebraska. I was going to be a teacher but changed to business administration."

"Did you have a certain group of friends in high school?"

"I had a lot of different friends. I had a lot of different friends. What I didn't have was much in the way of the football team, the athletes. I had a job after school. I remember Ronnie Sanders, Jack Beaver - we were friends since we were kids. Gene Hinks. I never ran for student president or anything like that, because I worked, but if I had I just might have been elected. I had many friends."

"Tell her about your motor scooter, Jerry," said Jody.

"Oh yes, I used to take my mother to work on my motor scooter," he reminisced. "When I was a freshman in high school, I decided I wanted a Cushman motor scooter. They were chain driven. I was too young for a car, but I could drive a motor scooter, so my dad took me down to De Lay National Bank into Mr. J.J. De Lay's office, and they arranged for me to borrow $125 to buy this motor scooter from this other kid. So I bought this motor scooter, and that was one of the reasons I was popular. This scooter had a little luggage compartment and you could drive it around town. The chain kept falling off so I got to be an expert at fixing that. It went maybe 45 mph tops. When the weather was good I'd ride it to school and park it with the bicycles. No one ever stole anything in those days. How could you not get caught?"

"Anyway, I'd take my mother about a mile to work, in her high heels I remember, to Healy Drug Store. Mr. and Mrs. Healy owned that store. She was a red head, very striking, and the rumor was they both imbibed a bit. That was another way I earned some money. I learned to type, and my mother and father brought me a typewriter. I would type addresses on post cards for Healy drug, and make a little extra money doing that. My mother was in charge of their card and gift department. She'd go to Omaha and decide which gifts and cards they would buy. She worked there until she moved to Oklahoma, about 2 years after Dad died. In Oklahoma she became a ward clerk for a hospital there."

"I finished out my freshman year at Norfolk Senior High School. I graduated number 57 in a class of 115. I didn't apply myself well. Partly in my defense, but I mostly I'm responsible, counseling was poor as I mentioned, and neither of my parents were college graduates, so I didn't get much more than hollering from my dad and sympathy from my mother in the way of counseling. I suffered because I didn't figure out on my own I needed to do better."

Chapter 9: The College Years, 1948 to 1953

"Going to college was not my dad's idea. It was mine. His idea was that he got by with a high school education and I sure would, too. He was not in favor of my going to the University. However, my mother was. I worked every summer, but my mother would help me with what I couldn't pay. I was able to pay for my books and tuition. My parents helped pay for my room and board at the fraternity and gave me some spending money. It was like $75 a month. I didn't have to work while I was going to school. My mother was the one who paid for it out of her earnings from the drug store. She wanted to have a college graduate in the family."

"My second and third years I had a roommate John Berigan, and my landlady, Mrs. Wittstruck. I lived with them my sophomore and junior year of college. Freshman year I lived in the fraternity house. They made me one of the two students in the cheering section of the games. It was an organization called the KORN KOBS which ran the student cheering section. I got picked for that my freshman year while part of that fraternity. You got to sit on the 50 yard line and hold up these big cards. These were the early years of television. That was kind of a highlight."

"My freshman year suffered from lack of guidance. I didn't adapt well to a fraternity life, except the beer parties. Living in close quarters with others, I didn't care for that. I didn't really want to continue. I maintained some very close friendships from it, though. Sid Mason was one of the fraternity brothers, and Jim Hillis, who talked me into joining the naval reserve."

"I was at the U of Nebraska from 1949 to May of 1953, but I didn't get my degree until Jan. 54, but I attended my last class in the spring of 1953. I had to go to the Navy Reserve Officer Candidate School to get the credits I needed. They wouldn't give you the credits until you were awarded your commission so I couldn't officially get my college degree until Jan. of 1954."

Chapter 10: The Navy,the St. Patrick's Day Blizzard and the Hero

Dad was in the Naval Reserve from about 1951 to 1964, and on active duty from the first of July '54 to the first of July '56. He was "an enlisted man who made it into naval reserve," which was a credit to him. There were a few occasions as we were growing up when he would talk about that period of time, perhaps to describe a ship he was on or a place he was stationed for a while.

The Naval Reserve

As successful as the state naval militias were in the Spanish-American War, which made the United States a world power, the outbreak of World War I in 1914 demonstrated that a modern war at sea required a federal naval reserve force. Secretary of the Navy Josephus Daniels and his assistant, a young New Yorker named Franklin D. Roosevelt, launched a campaign in Congress to appropriate funding for such a force. Their efforts brought passage of legislation on 3 March 1915, creating the Naval Reserve Force, whose members served in the cockpits of biplanes and hunted enemy U-boats during the Great War.

Though the financial difficulties of the Great Depression and interwar isolationism translated into difficult times for the Naval Reserve, the organizational structure persevered and expanded with the creation of Naval Aviation Cadet program and the Naval Reserve Officer Training Corps. When World War II erupted on 1 September 1939, the Naval Reserve was ready. By the summer of 1941, virtually all of its members were serving on active duty, their numbers destined to swell when Japanese planes roared out of a clear blue sky over Pearl Harbor on 7 December 1941. Over the course of the ensuing four years, the Navy would grow from a force of 383,150 to one that at its peak numbered 3,405,525, the vast majority of them reservists, including five future U.S. presidents.^[5]

The end of World War II brought a different struggle in the form of the Cold War, which over the course of nearly five decades was waged with the haunting specter of nuclear war.

Today, among other family documents, birth and death certificates, newspaper articles, copies of old pictures and letters that he has gathered together, was an original document, slightly yellowed but mostly looking like new. "Now here's a letter of commendation I received when I was on active duty in the Navy," he reminisced. "That was quite a night."

And so Dad recalls in his own words: "The ship I was on was the USS Calcaterra, a destroyer escort..."

USS Calcaterra (DE-390) was an Edsall-class destroyer escort built for the U.S. NavyduringWorld War II. She served in the Atlantic Ocean and the Pacific Ocean and provided destroyer escort protection against submarine and air attack for Navy vessels and convoys. Post-war she was called up again for duty, this time as a radar picket ship.

"It was headquartered in New Port , Rhode Island, where the rich people lived," he quipped."Our family had moved there from Norfolk, Virginia. It was a radar picket ship, a DEW Ship.That stands for Distant Early Warning. It was called the DEW line system."

U.S.S. Calcaterra in WWII

The Distant Early Warning Line, also known as the DEW Line or Early Warning Line, was a system of radar stations in the far northern Arctic region of Canada, with additional stations along the North Coast and Aleutian Islands of Alaska, in addition to the Faroe Islands, Greenland, and Iceland. It was set up to detect incoming Soviet bombers during the Cold War, a task which quickly became outdated when intercontinental ballistic missiles became the main delivery system for nuclear weapons.

"Our ship went from our headquarters in Newport, to Argentia, Newfoundland, where there was a base. There we would join other ships on the DEW line. Our job was to patrol a sector of ocean between Argentia and the Azores islands, which was a group of islands off the coast of Spain."

The Azores (English pronunciation: /əˈzɔrz/) is a Portuguese archipelago in the Atlantic Ocean, about 930 miles from Lisbon and about 2,400 miles from the east coast of North America.

The nine major Azorean islands and the eight small Formigas extend for more than 373 mi and lie in a northwest-southeast direction. All of the islands have volcanic origins, although Santa Maria also has some reef contribution. Mount Pico on Pico Island, at 7,713 ft in altitude, is the highest in all of Portugal. The Azores are actually the tops of some of the tallest mountains on the planet, as measured from their base at the bottom of the ocean.

In 1877, Samuel Clemens, who found fame under his moniker, Mark Twain wrote of the Azores, as follows:

I think the Azores must be very little known in America. Out of our whole ship’s company there was not a solitary individual who knew anything whatever about them. Some of the party, well read concerning most other lands, had no other information about the Azores than that they were a group of nine or ten small islands far out in the Atlantic, something more than halfway between New York and Gibraltar. That was all.

Because these once uninhabited, remote islands were settled sporadically over a span of two centuries, their culture, dialect, cuisine and traditions vary considerably from island to island. Farming and fishing are key industries that support the Azorean economy.

"There was a long, continuous row of ships called a "picket line." We had a sector, maybe a hundred miles to patrol, because radar would only cover so many miles of area. There were radar stations along the shore, but of course, not on the ocean, so there we were to monitor the ocean to ensure unauthorized aircraft didn't try to cross over. Sonar was also screening for unauthorized submarines."

The DEW line was supplemented by two "barrier" forces in the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans which were operated by the United States Navy from 1956 to 1965. These barrier forces consisted of surface picket stations, dubbed "Texas Towers", each manned by radar destroyer escorts, and an air wing of Lockheed WV-2 Warning Star aircraft that patrolled the picket lines at 1,000-2,000 m (3,000-6,000 ft) altitude in 12- to 14-hour missions. Their objective was to extend early warning coverage against surprise Soviet bomber and missile attack as an extension of the DEW Line.^[3]

"So we would just go back and forth over this same sector. Now, we had a unique ship. Instead of just one antennae like most ships, the U.S.S. CALCATERRA had 2 antennas. This made us extremely top heavy. In fact, we had a good 200 ton of pig iron in the keel of the ship just there to keep it from toppling over. The deck of the ship was 2 stories above the level of a normal deck, and It had structures 2 stories above the deck of the ship, filled with radar equipment. We're talking about the 50s now, not like the lightweight instrumentation of today. This was great big heavy stuff. And this was a special ship. There were probably 12 ships across that picket line, covering several hundred miles. I'll tell you it was no picnic. You could get seasick on a calm day in that North Atlantic."

"There was always another ship within 100 miles, and any airplane coming over the picket line had to contact the naval commander bases to identify themselves. If we had a contact we couldn't identify, we would radio all the way back to the U.S. mainland, where they would scramble fighter jets to come and intercept. I mean, we were at the height of the cold war with Russia at that time. Oh God, that was tough duty. That's what the mission of the ship was. It would take 2 days to get out there, 2 weeks duty. then 2 days to get back. We were two weeks out and one week in."

"So it was the night of March 16, 1956, and we'd been gone for 2 weeks. I was ready to go home, but I couldn't. Some of the crew had to remain on the ship at all times, even when docked, and it was my turn. Keep in mind, though, that if I was on the west coast I'd be gone to Japan for 6 months!

In Newport there was a naval facility with docks for the ships coming in and going out. When you came back to Newport, you would tender, that is, pull the ship into the port, and hold it here.About 2/3rds of the crew would get to leave but the rest of us had ship duty.

Well, as luck would have it I just happened to be one of the officers aboard the U.S.S. Calcaterra this particular night of March 16, 1956. There was an attack destroyer squadron supply ship anchored docked next to us on one side, and another large ship docked next to us on the other side."

"It was tough duty, anyway. There was a lot to do. The captain was hardly ever there. There was a big yeoman's wheel there on the deck, and over here the radar. What you had to be concerned about wasn't just the weather. It was also where a lot of Atlantic fishing was taking place. We had to make sure the ship didn't run into those fishing boats. In the daytime you could see them, but not at night. You'd have to focus on the radar at night, and all you saw were blips.Of course, those boats, they made no effort to avoid you. They didn't care if you ran into them.They could jump ship and get on their neighbor's ship, and then they'd file claim against the U.S. Navy and get money."

"So on duty that night, I spent a lot of time outside where I would watch the fishing ships with my binoculars. The wind was up and the ship was rocking. There was a big compass, which I would hold onto for dear life. When the wind blew, the waves would take that bow down, almost 30 degrees into the water, and water would just come up right over that bow. I was up 2 flights above the deck and I'd see that water in huge waves come crashing down over the deck."

"That night it was freezing cold, and back in the port where I'm on duty up came a great big blizzard. So you've got this great big ship tied up to the dock, and we're right next to it, with another ship on the other side of us, and of course there was only me and Don Barney, the engineering officer, on board for officers. I was the 1st lieutenant , in charge of the deck. That was in my favor as I had been trained to react in these types of situations. Two-thirds of the crew is on liberty, having a good time, probably getting drunk. I have a skeleton crew and in blows this Saint Patrick's day blizzard, with 40-60 mile per hour winds. The ships are all rubbing up against each other with the wind and the snow blowing so fiercely."

"The 1st lieutenant is in charge of all the ships rigging, so earlier on, when I was getting the ship outfitted, I had loaded that ship up with so many fenders and bumpers that people were joking about it. It was kind of a big laugh, but as it ended up, it surely helped save these ships from complete devastation. These ship's steel was really not very thick steel, and you've got this big heavy ships banging against each other, so for hours, under my direction, we were running back and forth and up and down the ship, changing the bumpers and the fenders from here to there. I was so busy, doing thing, hollering orders. There I was, a land lover from Nebraska who didn't know squat," Dad said humbly. "I stayed on that deck throughout the ordeal. We tied some of the crew with ropes around their waist to the deck so they wouldn't be tossed overboard. I'll tell you, I was scared to death. You could go overboard in a New York second. It went on 3-4 hours before anyone came to help."

"At some point the rest of the crew received word of the situation and were called back, but that wasn't until about 3 or 4 in the morning. First the captain of the sister ship along side of us arrived, then our captain. About that time storm had abated to where we were able to get that ship underway and out into safe harbor."

"It was a pretty exciting time. I mean, Barney and I were thinking we may have to get that ship underway ourselves. We would have done it if we'd had to, but it didn't get quite to that point.Well, I guess I did handle the situation well enough. Well enough to earn this letter of commendation. I would hope Barney also got such a letter. At least I believe the rest of the crew received a group commendation letter."

"Would I read it to you? Sure."

So Dad read, with quite a bit of difficulty at times, from that sheet of yellowed paper, from R.A. SEELINGER, Commanding Officer of the U.S.S. CALCATERRA Destroyer, who had sat down at his typewriter, or perhaps he spoke these words to a yeoman to typed without error the following words:

U. S. S. CALCATERRA (DER-390)

Care of Fleet Post Office

New York, New York

In Reply Refer to: DER 390/hic P15 Ser 191

From: Commanding Officer, U.S.S. CALCATERRA (DER 390)

To: Lieutenant (junior grade) Gerald R. BROWN, 571275/1105, USNR

Subj: Actions on the night of 16 March 1956: Commendation for

1. The Commanding Officer takes extreme pleasure and pride in commending you for your outstanding performance of duty as First Lieutenant aboard CALCATERRA during the night of 16-17 March 1956.

2. During the afor mentioned night CALCATERRA was nested alongside the U.S.SCASCADE (AD 16) undergoing tender availability when a sudden storm swept the Newport, Rhode Island area with freezing weather, snow and wind up to 60 knots.As First Lieutenant you organized the Deck Force and took timely and appropriate action to safeguard the ship at the same time taking every precaution to insure the safety of your men. This timely action in the face of extreme weather conditions and personal danger was instrumental in preventing greater damage and possible loss of life. Your performance of duty was in keeping with the highest standards and traditions of the U. S. Navy.

3. A copy of this letter will be appended to your next fitness report.

Signed:

R. A. SEELINGER

Chapter 12: Roots: Ireland and the Revolutionary War

Another set of papers Dad handed me was a family tree. It was found in Helen's home in Norfolk when she was moving to Oklahoma two years after Brownie died. Copies were made and Dad has kept it for years. It traces the Brown side of the family back to Irish Roots, when John Reaugh and Ellen Query were married around 1750. The family line is traced right down to the marriage of Leroy James Brown to Helen Mae Louis. It is complete with stories referring to George Washington, battles with native Americans and mysterious death.

Through the wonders of the internet, I found that another descendent of that line was a man named Charles Frank Reaugh. If you google the name "Reaugh" he comes out on top with several links. Most complete and descriptive is the Wikipedia article. Could this lead to the discovery of a rich distant relative with no one to inherit his wealth somewhere in the world? Most likely not, since this renown Texan artist died without having married, and penniless. But what a legacy he left, proving once again, there are many definitions of wealth with money being the least important. (Well, it ain't everything, although it can help.)

So read on.

Samuel Reaugh (Pronounced "Ray")

Samuel Reaugh and Ellen Query were born in Ireland. They were married about the middle of the eighteenth century, but whether they were married in Ireland or America is not known. They were of the Protestant faith. The name of the mother is perpetuated by the various appellations, Ellen, Ella, Eleanor and Nellie. Both the parents died in Pennsylvania. Their family consisted of five children.

Record of Samuel and Ellen Reaugh's children:

1. John, b 1756, m 1775, (?) m Margaret Boyle 1782, (?) m Margaret Frazier 1808, d Aug. 9, 1822
2. Jane, m William Roseberry
3. Esther, m William Black
4. Samuel, m Margaret Neal, m Rachel Denbo
5. Matthew, b Feb. 28, 1777, d Feb. 22, 1833

1. John Reaugh was a soldier of the Revolution, under George Washington. He moved to Kentucky about 1795. His second wife, Margaret Boyle, was born in Pennsylvania about 1795. Her father was Charles Boyle, who came from West Virginia, and Pennsylvania before the birth of Washington.

Once the Indians had John tied to burn him, but because of a rain, they left him tied through the night, while they went to a neighboring village to get some more Indians to witness the burning. Finding a knife which they had left near him, he succeeded in cutting himself loose, and being assisted by an old squaw, who had always been very cross with him, but who now provided him with a pony and some Indian dumplings, he endeavored to make his escape. After traveling for some distance, he met the Indians, who were returning to burn him. One of the band threw a tomahawk at the fugitive, but another, throwing up his arm at the same time, broke the force of the blow. The weapon struck him just above the eye and put it out, but it did not knock him off his pony. Thus, he succeeded in making good his escape.

John Reaugh married his second wife, Margaret Boyle, in 1782 when he was 26 years old. Margaret Boyle was the daughter of Elizabeth Kirkpatrick and Charles Boyle, who were married at Fort Du Quesne, now Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, immediately after its surrender to the English. They had five children, the eldest (Margaret) of whom married John Reaugh. Margaret Boyle Reaugh was found sitting against a tree, dead in about 1804, after 22 years of marriage to John Reaugh.

Margaret Boyle's mother was Elizabeth Kirkpatrick. Elizabeth was born Elizabeth Pomeroy in Cumberland County, Pennsylvania, about 1730. She first married John Kirkpatrick, by whom he had two children, Rebecca and Moses. They moved to Kentucky in 1790, and Rebecca afterward moved to Tennessee. When Moses Pomeroy was out hunting, being some thirty miles from his home, he was shot and scalped by the Indians. His dog returned and whined about his mistress until she became alarmed about her husband. Some men then accompanied the dog to the place where his master was murdered, but found no trace of him. Elizabeth Kirkpatrick then married Charles Boyle, as described above.

Record of John and Margaret Reaugh's Children:

1. David, b 1776, m Mary Teaverbaugh, d April, 1836;
2. Nellie, b Dec. 16, 1783, m Brian Johnson May 3, 1803, d May 7, 1828;
3. Elizabeth, b Nov. 10, 1785, m Richard Haynes, d March 10, 1811;
4. Hannah, b 1788, (?) m Samuel Black March 6, 1806, d 1832; (?)
5. Samuel, died in infancy;
6. Charles, b August 13, 1793, m Elizabeth Dunn Nov. 1, 1814, d Dec. 31, 1846;
7. John, b 1795, (?) m Jane Carnichel, d 1833;
8. Samuel Q., b Dec. 15, 1798, m Phebe Taylor Sept. 9, 1819, d Dec. 1, 1845;
9. Moses, died in infancy;
10. Esther, died in infancy;
11. Arsenia, b Sept. 16, 1809, m Mathias E. Myers Jan. 26, 1841, m William C. Myers May 15, 1853, d July 2, 1865
12. Pauline, b Sept. 16, 1809, m John Myers Jan. 26, 1841;
13. Andrew, b Jan. 8, 1811, died two weeks later.

8. Samuel Q. Reaugh moved to Illinois in 1829. He was for several years a Justice of the Peace, from whose decision no appeal was ever made. He married Phebe Tayor Sept. 9, 1819.

Record of Samuel and Phebe Reaugh's children:

1. William H., b July 8, 1820, m Emmeline Fanning Dec. 22, 1849, m Lucretia Bobbitt Feb. 11, 1863; d July 15, 1868;
2. John A. b Dec. 19, 1821, m Permelia Lindsay, March 31, 1846, d June 4, 1875;
3. Maria K., b July 25, 1823, m David Sooy Oct. 3, 1850, d Sept. 29, 1858;
4. Oliver P., b June 5, 18256, m Julia A. Anderson Oct. 3, 1850, d August 1, 1876;
5. George W., b August 9, 1828, m Clarinda M. Spillman Sept. 9, 1858;
6. Mary E., b August 9, 1828, m Silas G. Slaughter Dec. 3, 1851;
7. David K., b Oct. 10, 1830, d Feb. 19, 1848;
8. Martha J., b May 3, 1833, d August 20, 1835;
9. Charles, b March 2, 1835, d Dec. 28, 1854;
10. Margaret F., b March 4, 1837, m Hamilton Sooy March 12, 1854.

2. John A. Reaugh married Permelia Lindsay.

Record of John and Permelia Reaugh's children:

1. Samuel E., b Feb. 15, 1847, m Lottie E. Layton May 16, 1878, m Nora ?, d around 1900;
2. Anne E., b Sept. 1, 1848, m Piercy Dickenson March 26, 1873, d April 12, 1875;
3. William D., b June 18, 1850, m Libbie M. Gould Nov. 11, 1880, d 1938?;
4. Mary C., b May 25, 1852, m Carlyle P. Primm Jan. 27, 1876, d 1938?;
5. George A., b March 24, 1854, m ?, d ?
6. Emily Frances, b Jacksonville, Ill. July 22, 1856, m James P. Walker (Grand Island, NE) May 3, 1883, d Nov. 26, 1913;
7. Phebe Ella, b June 9, 1858, m Perry Nickols, d ?;
8. John H. b June 11, 1863, m Lydia M. Tilley June 24, 1890, d ?1936;

6. Emily Frances Reaugh married James P. Walker

Record of James P. and Emily Walker's children:

1. Amy Viola, b March 4, 1885, m Everet Ross Brown (Denver, CO) Sept. 19, 1907, d March 18, 1956;
2. Guy H., b March 5, 1887, m Bertha Billington Aug. 13, 1919, d April 14, 1939;
3. Howard P., b Nov. 12, 1889, m Alice I. Howell April 24, 1912;
4. Alice Beatrice, b Jan. 6, 1893, m Fred J. Olson July 18, 1916.

1. Amy Viola Walker married Everett Ross Brown. Everett Ross Brown was a UPRR Co. Conductor and he belonged to the Masons.

Record of Everett and Amy Viola Brown's children:

1. Leroy James, b Oct. 15, 1910, m Helen Mae Louis, Jan. 3, 1929

1. Leroy James Brown married Helen Mae Louis

Record of Leroy and Helen Brown's children:

1. Leroy Louis, b July 17, 1930 (Lincoln, NE), m Marry Elizabeth Conradt, May 3, 1952;
2. Gerald Ross, b Dec. 18, 1931 (Omaha, NE), m JoAnn Carol Olivetti (b. July 22, 1931) Sept. 22, 1952;
3. Amy Gayle, b Aug. 31, 1933 (Clever, MO), m Edwin Dean Clausen (b. Nov, 3, 1929) April 13, 1952

Chapter 13: The Renown Relation

Upon googling the Reaugh name, a renown Texas artist named Frank Reaugh comes up several times including in Wikipedia. You will note that his parents were George Washington Reaugh and Clarinda Morton Spillman. If you look at the list of Samuel and Phebe Reaugh's children, you will see listed George W. who married Clarinda M. Spillman in 1858.

Frank Reaugh

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Charles Franklin "Frank" Reaugh

Born: December 29, 1860, Jacksonville, Morgan County,Illinois, USA

Died: May 6, 1945 (aged 84) Dallas, Texas

Occupation: Artist; Photography; Inventor; "Dean of Texas Painters"

Religion: Christian

Spouse: Never married

Notes:

(1) Reaugh considered his art to be an extension of his Christian faith by his attempts to capture the beauty of divine Creation.

(2) As a youth, Reaugh went on cattle drives which awakened his interest in nature.

(3) Many of Reaugh's paintings are located in thePanhandle-Plains Historical MuseuminCanyon

(4) Though based in Dallas, Reaugh went on field trips into the American Southwest to obtain inspiration for his paintings.

Charles Franklin Reaugh (December 29, 1860 – May 6, 1945), known as Frank Reagh, was an artist, photographer, inventor, patron of the arts, and teacher, who was called the "Dean of Texas Painters". He devoted his career to the visual documentation in pastel and paint, portraying the vast, still unsettled regions of the Great Plains and the American Southwest. He was active in the Society of Western Artists.^[1]

Early years as budding artist

Reaugh was born to George Washington Reaugh, a miner in the California gold rush, and the former Clarinda Morton Spilman^[1] near Jacksonville, the seat of Morgan County in west centralIllinois. Reaugh (pronounced RAY), moved with his family in 1876 to Terrell inKaufman Countyeast of Dallas. The original family name was "Castelreaugh", but the Irishfamily shortened it to "Reaugh" when they entered the United States. The Reaughs initially made their living in Terrell by planting cotton.^[2]

Reaugh developed his skills by copying the works of European masters from magazines and from illustrations of larger animals in anatomy books. He studied the writings ofnaturalistsLouis Agassiz and John Burroughs. In the early 1880s, he was invited by thecattlemenbrothers Frank and Romie Houston to join them on cattle drives near Wichita Falls inWichita County south of the Red River.^[1] The Houstons may have also provided financial support for Reaugh to further his artistic studies.^[3]

From 1884–1889. Reaugh studied in St. Louis and Paris, where he became interested in pastels at The Louvre museum.^[3] He also studied Flemish and Dutch paintings in Belgium and theNetherlands, where he was inspired by the work of Paulus Potter.^[4]

Prolific painter

Ultimately, Reaugh created more than seven thousand works. He concentrated on small pastel sketches of the wild and colorful Texas Longhorn, a subject he found challenging to illustrate. He once said that "no animal on earth has the beauty of the Texas steer."^[5] Reaugh recalled that his mother had particularly encouraged him in the mastery of painting true-to-life forms: "I would sit in the midst of the herds to study their form, the workings of their muscles, their character and habits, their characteristic spots and markings, and their wonderfully rich and varied colors."^[5]

Above: North Fork of the Red River, 1914, oil on canvas, 16.25 x 32 inches, 1999.2. Collection of The State Preservation Board, Austin, Texas.

His leading paintings include:

Watering the Herd (1889)

The O Roundup (1894)

Grazing the Herd (1897)

The Approaching Herd (1902)

Twenty-Four Hours with the Herd (seven paintings, after 1930)

'Texas Cattle (April 1933, his last major work)^[4]

Reaugh as inventor

Reaugh created his own art materials and tools, including a patented folding lap easel and compact carrying case for pastels. He created and marketed his own brand of pastels, each cast in a hexagonal shape to facilitate handling in the field.^[3] He patented a rotary pump and served on the board of directors for the Limacon Pump Company in Dallas.^[1]

In 1890, the Reaughs moved from Terrell to Oak Cliff, now a portion of Dallas.^[2] There, he and his father built a metal studio building in the back yard called "The Ironshed". Reaugh's works soon gained attention and national recognition through art exhibitions, including showing at theWorld's Fairs in Chicago (1893) and St. Louis (1904).^[3]

Reaugh as art instructor

In 1897, Reaugh established an art school in Dallas in 1897. He was a model artist and an influential arts educator. Many of his students and fellow artists, including Reveau Bassett,Olin Travis, Edward G. Eisenlohr, Alexander Hogue, and Louis Oscar Griffith, gained regional and national prominence. The Frank Reaugh Art Club, the Dallas School of Fine Arts, and Striginian Club all advocated including the laws of nature in art.^[3] Lucretia Donnell, one of Reaugh's last students, has continued her mentor's tradition of taking students on sketching trips. In 2006, she went to the Panhandle-Plains country to paint Medicine Mounds, theWichita Mountains, Antelope Hills, the site of the second Battle of Adobe Walls, and the Quitaque Peaks. She also went on a short sketch trip to Enchanted Rock in the Texas Hill Country.^[2]

For many years, Reaugh led groups of art students, mostly teenaged girls, on sketching exhibitions throughout the American Southwest, including the Grand Canyon of the Colorado River. He considered his art a form of Christian worship of the Creator. Having given away most of his possessions, Reaugh died in poverty in Dallas at the age of eighty-four. He had vowed years earlier never to live anywhere outside of Texas. He is buried in Terrell Cemetery.

LR-Frank_Reaugh_1939.

Photo taken by Lucretia Donnell

while Mr. Reaugh was dictating

his autobiography to her at El Sibil

Legacy

Reaugh was passionate about his adopted state. Several of his paintings are displayed at theTexas State Capitol in Austin. Many of his other works are held by the Panhandle-Plains Historical Museum at West Texas A&M University in Canyon, where he shared the spotlight with fellow painter Harold Dow Bugbee, a former curator of the museum.^[4] Other Reaugh works are at the Southwest Collection/Special Library Collection at Texas Tech UniversityinLubbock, and the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center at the University of Texas at Austin.^[1]

In February 1936, the aging Reaugh described his legacy in terms that his painting ". . . aside from any artistic merit that they may possess, will tell their story, and will be preserved because of historical value; for the steer and the cowboy have gone, the range has been fenced and plowed, and the beauty of the early days is but a memory."^[3]

Reaugh's interest in western art was less on the human side than in the animals and thenatural environment. In this respect, he was unlike Frederic Remington or Charles M. Russell, whose works stressed confrontation between man and nature. Reaugh saw the ideal of pastoral harmony through the herds that meandered across the prairie.^[5]

Reaugh penned an autobiography entitled From Under the Mesquite Tree. Historian J. Evetts Haley in 1960 published F. Reaugh: Man and Artist.

In Reaugh’s will, filed before his death in Dallas County on May 16, 1940, the painter noted, “The main part of my property is in pictures… These are largely of the great prairies of Texas and the longhorned cattle of fifty years ago . . . It is my wish that these pictures be kept together if only for historical reasons. They create the spirit of the time. they show the sky unsullied by smoke, and the broad opalescent prairies not disfigured by wire fences or other signs of man."