Chapter 1 - Back when

Before I was

My father, Charles Everett Myers, was born and grew up on a farm in Wayne county, West Virginia. His mother was America Frances (I think her maiden name was Mansfield). His father was Martin Myers (I don't know his middle name). Martin died when daddy was nearly four years old.

My mother, Olive Gilman Spicer, was born in Nebraska and grew up in McComb, Mississippi. Her father, Charles William Spicer was a railroad mechanical engineer. They lived their later lives with us on the farm in Hanover county, Virginia. I will share some fond memories of them later. Mother had one sister, Aunt Caryl. More about aunt Caryl and Uncle Fred Shevland later. I remember pictures of great grandmother Hummel. She was grandmother Spicer's mother.

The captions were added by our daughter, Nancy, so the Grandmother, Olive Myers, is actually my mother - Olive Spicer when the picture was made. The words "in-law" do not belong in either caption. Three of these Olives married a Charles.

Daddy had four sisters, Emma, Ivy, Rachel and Mabel. Emma, Ivy and Rachel were all teachers. Mabel managed a beauty shop after she retired from teaching. None of them married. Mabel was the only one that ever owned a car. Emma and Mabel lived together in Huntington, West Virginia most of their lives. Their mother, known to me as Gangoo, and Ivy lived much of their lives in Glenville, West Virginia, a small college town. Aunt Ivy taught elementary education at Glenville State Teacher's College. Aunt Rachel taught Home Economics at Salem College in Salem, West Virginia. These aunts and grandmother will appear later in my memories. Aunts Emma and Mabel taught in High School.

Daddy had his Ph.D. in psychology education and was a Professor of Horticulture at Penn State when I was born.

I understand that I was born at home in a farm house outside the town of State College, Pennsylvania May 1, 1925. I don't remember anything about State College, but I am told that at the age of two, I pulled a pot of boiling water from the stove and scalded my right arm and wrist. I still have a scar on my right wrist. When I was learning right from left (I am not sure I know all right from wrong yet) I used this scar to recognize my right hand. I do remember that.

From State College, Daddy took a job in the Pennsylvania Department of Education and we moved to Camp Hill, outside of Harrisburg. We moved to a house on Chamberlayne Ave. in Richmond, Virginia when Daddy accepted a job as Director of Research with the Virginia State Board of Education. We stayed there a year and then moved to Three Chopt Road for another year. The next move was to a country house near Richmond in the Dumbarton area. There must have been several acres. About the only thing I remember about the Chamberlayne Ave. house is a screened-in upstairs porch. Olive, Frances and I would play Post Office (not the kissing kind) at the window. I still remember what the house looked like from the front, probably because we passed it many times after moving, even to the farm in Hanover County.

At the Dumbarton House, I remember playing near the road and throwing stones at passing cars. A lady stopped and fussed at me. I asked Mother why she was so upset. Mother told me about the danger. I understood. I think I was four .

I also remember playing on the front porch with a toy airplane. I devised a rack with some sticks, hung the airplane on the rack by it's wings and called it an airplane hanger.

Daddy bought a pony while we were in Dumbarton. He said it was mine. The pony was one of the wild ponies from Assateague Island. Some one had adopted the pony and then starved it to skin and bones. It was very meek when we got it. Daddy named it Mouse. After we fed Mouse enough to get some flesh on his bones, he was no longer meek. The name stuck, though. I didn't have much to do with Mouse until later. I think we also had chickens at Dumbarton.

In 1932 we moved to a farm in Hanover County Virginia about 18 miles north of Richmond. I understand that Daddy paid under $5,000 for over eight hundred acres with a barn and a house in need of much repair. I was seven.

Part of the old barn and the new one still under construction.

Daddy moved the kitchen around behind the living room, then built a dining room in between. He also added two bed rooms and a bath upstairs. We replaced all the plaster with asbestos wall board, installed plumbing and also wiring for a 32 volt Delco electrical system. He added a two car garage and sided the house with redwood shingles. He removed the front porch, including a small room over the porch. The hall to that room became my bedroom. My room was about 4 feet wide and 10 or 12 feet long with a window and an open closet over part of the stairs. I had a single bed, a dresser at the foot of the bed and a small fold down desk on the wall beside the bed. The bed served as a desk chair. There was no heat in my room. I remember sleeping in flannel pajamas and using only one sheet, one blanket and a quilt. It was always warm and cozy. I would dress in my room even though Mother often suggested I come down by the heater to dress. The upstairs bath room had a register that allowed heat from the dining room heater to take the chill off, but I still dressed in my bedroom.

Bill, Olive, Mother, Jane, Daddy, Frances & Mary
(I am not sure when this picture was taken. I think I must have been about 15)

The Big House after modifications.

Daddy said we moved from a pony and chickens to a cow and pigs. Of course we still had a pony and chickens. He had a good job through the depression, so he could handle the expense, I guess. We never seemed to have money to buy what someone else wanted. We did always eat well and had enough of the essentials. We also acquired a pair of work horses, some beef cows, an old tractor and equipment. Fields and fences had been neglected. Daddy hired six "darkies" to grub up the fence rows and build fences. They walked two miles to and from work six days a week and worked from sun up to sun down for $0.50 a day each. Mother offered them lunch, but they usually brought their own. They seldom missed a day.

It was soon my job to milk two cows twice a day, seven days a week, rain, snow or shine. The only excuse that got me out of milking was a cut finger. Frances said she did not mind milking, but she always got a rash when she did. This lasted all the way through High School. Sometimes I would have to milk at 10 o'clock at night after play practice at school. I learned to hate milking with a passion. I even ran away from home once to get out of milking. I don't remember how old I was. I didn't go very far and I went back on my own. I don't think I was missed.

Growing up

There was one "colored" family that lived in a small house across the road from us named Joe and Gracey Fox. Joe, we called him Fox, worked full time for us. Fox was the same age as Daddy. I think their birthdays were the same. Also Daddy built a cottage for a family that we knew in Dumbarton. Their last name was Thompson. There was Mr. & Mrs. Thompson, a son, Percy, in his teens and twins, Elmer & Eleanor, a year or two older than I was. I think there was also a preschooler, Pete. Percy had a black Model A Ford. He would rub it down with used motor oil to make it shine.

I didn't go to first grade. I learned to read, somewhat, at home (I still don't consider myself an excellent reader). I started in the second grade at the age of seven. I walked about a half a mile to catch a bus. The elementary, three room, school was eight or ten miles away near the community of Old Church. It was called the Old Church School. My teacher was Miss Peugh. There was more than the second grade in my room. In fact Eleanor and Elmer Thompson were in a higher grade in the same room. I was a discipline problem. When I got a spanking at school, Eleanor lost no time telling on me. I always got another spanking at home. The only incident I remember is when Miss Peugh told me to pick up a scrap of paper that was on the floor near my desk. I told her that I did not put it there. That didn't matter. I remember also causing trouble on the bus. Needless to say, I was taken out of school before the end of the school year.

My grandmother Spicer's sister, Aunt Addie, lived with us then. Her only son lived up north and seldom, if ever, contacted her or us. I only remember seeing him once. I think that was when she died. We children were made to be quiet in the house so as not to upset Aunt Addie. Aunt Addie took it upon herself to see that I practiced my reading. I had to read out loud to the book case, to the heater, the stairs and her. I resented Aunt Addie. I think my sisters did too.

We had several collies, Jack, Jill, Juno and Queen. Later we had a white Collie we called Fancy (she was supposed to be Frances' Dog). We had other dogs, an Irish Setter and later an English Shepherd, Rat Terrier, another Collie, and maybe others. Daddy sold puppies. On more than one occasion a lady from New York would come to buy a Collie puppy. She would come about milking time and borrow a cup from mother to drink fresh milk right from the cow. I liked milk and drank a lot, but warm, right from the cow - ugh.

Grandmother and Grandfather Spicer also lived with us after he retired. Grandfather, after being a railroad mechanical engineer, maintained the farm machinery. He spent most of his time in the shop listening to the radio and petting Juno. Sometimes Daddy would call Juno to help round up the sheep, only to have grandfather tell Juno, “You don’t have to go.”

I was plowing in the Tuttle field, two miles from the house and shop, with the John Deere tractor, when it threw a rod. I had tied the governor with wire so it would go faster. I took the wire off before grandfather got there, but he could hear the tractor putt-putting from two miles away and knew it was running fast. We used the truck to pull the tractor, with the plow still in the ground, to the end of the field, in the shade of a tree, where grandfather repaired the engine

I soon learned to handle Mouse. Just anybody could not ride him. He would rear up and go over backwards, even with Daddy. Mouse stayed in the pasture most of the time. It was a challenge to get him in the stall and put the bridle on him. I could do it. It involved chasing him to the barn and dodging his kicks and bites. I had my share of spills. I didn't ride him for pleasure. He was my means of transportation. I didn't have a bike to start with. Mouse traveled at only one speed, a dead run. I had to whip him to get him to leave the barn which made him run. Once he was headed home I could not rein him back. I would ride to a friend's (usually Walker Brooks) house, about three miles, on Sunday afternoons to play.

I think I was nine when Daddy entered Mouse, with me as the rider, in the pony races at the state fair in Richmond. I practiced racing Mouse on the new CCC fire lane that was being built through our woods. There was a long straight stretch with a small bridge at one end. Mouse was always skittish of a bridge. We were heading toward home when Mouse skidded across the bridge landing on top of me on a pile of gravel. The next thing I remembered was a horn honking not too far away. Mouse had gone home without me. Frances and Daddy came looking for me in the car and got stuck. My right shoulder was out of joint. It has come out several times since.

The day before the race, I started riding Mouse to the fair grounds. I turned the wrong way on US301. When I didn't show up at the fair grounds, Daddy found me and arranged to leave the pony in a stall, for the night, near where he caught up to me. The morning of the race, I rode Mouse to the fair grounds at a dead run, as usual. It was hard to start the race because Mouse would not stay in line. We were turned completely around when the race finally started. Still, I came in third which qualified me for the next race. I ran in three races and placed in all three. Daddy says that we came in ahead of each pony that came in ahead of us in a different race. I think it was the day of the race that I rode Mouse back home at a dead run all eighteen miles. It may have been the next day. It is a wonder that it didn't kill the pony. I wiped the sweat from him and let him have a limited amount of water when we got home. I guess I was tired, but not down or out.

When I was older and in High School, I would ride further to another friend's (Norman Tigner) house. Once I was coming home from Norman's house after dark. I had a flashlight in my hand. Mouse tripped over a small dog and fell down. I managed to hang on to the reins, or Mouse would have gone home without me. We were both skinned up a bit. The upstairs bath room did not have a shower, so I went to the shower next to Mother and Daddy's room. I tried to get some gravel out of my ear. Daddy heard me and came to the rescue. It wasn't gravel, it was cartilage. I still have scars on my knuckles where I was holding the flash light. I think Mouse and I understood each other, but we never did bond. I furnished most of his physical needs. and he would reluctantly give in to some of my demands. When I went off to the Air Force, even though Mouse was supposed to be mine, or at least I thought so, Daddy sold Mouse. I was not there, but I understand that when they tried to load Mouse on the truck, Mouse went berserk and had to be shot.

I did finally get a bicycle. I had to work for it. I got a part time job with the agriculture agent measuring fields of wheat for price support data. I was still in high school. I rode the bike to the farms I was to measure. I paid $30 for the bike in Richmond and rode it home. Riding in traffic was difficult. With only a back wheel break, I would slide into the car in front of me when it stopped for a light. No damage done. I think it was destroyed in the house fire in the early or mid sixty’s. About the fire later.

The first farm equipment I remember was horse drawn. We had a four section spike-tooth harrow, a two-horse plow, a one-horse plow, a one-horse walk-behind cultivator, a two-row corn planter, a two-horse disk harrow, a home-made two-horse leveling board, a two-horse home-made road drag, a two-horse riding cultivator, a two-horse mower, a one-horse dump hay rake. a corn binder, a grain binder. a two-horse wagon, a Ford AA truck, a hay loader and a hand fodder cutter. I vaguely remember a three-horse riding plow. It may have been on someone else's farm. I remember putting a board on the spike-tooth harrow and standing on it while harrowing a freshly plowed field - very dangerous. If I was not careful and turned too short, the harrow would turn over. It was a very dusty job. The hay loader hooked behind the wagon and picked the hay up from the windrow and conveyed it to the wagon. Someone had to be on the wagon to load it evenly. Heavy hay would sometimes cover up that someone. Sometimes it was me. The Ford truck had what was called a "C" cab; no doors. We didn't use the truck on the road. It was only for moving hay, fertilizer or wood on the farm. The fodder cutter was a small trough with a knife that pivoted like a paper cutter. We put a bundle of corn stalks in the trough and pushed them under the knife to cut the fodder in lengths about two inches long. Some job. Daddy bought fifty-five gallon drums of black strap molasses to put on the fodder so the cows would eat it.

Daddy had the work horses, Nelly and Sally, bred by a donkey. They raised a pair of mules, Zip and I don't remember the name of the other. I seldom rode a horse, even if the field was far from the barn.. I was accustomed to falling from the pony. I didn't want to fall from the height of a horse. I would lead the horses to the field when I could have ridden.

A big snow storm in the early 40's blocked the road so Daddy had to leave the car at West's store on US360 and walk the 5 miles, or so, through 30" of snow. Frances was with him. Until the road was cleared, Daddy would ride a horse to his car to drive from there to work each day. When the roads were cleared, it was my job to ride to West's store in the car to bring the horse home. I led the horse all the way when I could have ridden. Too far to the ground.

Daddy's sisters invested in adjacent land at his request. Aunt Ivy bought two hundred acres, with a dilapidated house, from Rev. Tuttle. About one hundred acres were open fields. It joined the original farm. The old house was two miles by abandoned road from our house. The abandoned road could be navigated only by foot or horseback. The CCC built a fire lane through a neighboring farm, Williamsville, that we used until the state reopened the abandoned road. The road was not reopened until after I finished high school. Two bachelors, James and Todd Pollard, lived in the old house. We didn't make them move or pay rent, but the house was too far gone to repair. Williamsville was an old plantation owned by the Pollard family. It had been the home of the once governor Pollard of Virginia. James and Todd built a small house on the Williamsville property. We tore down the Tuttle house.

The Thompsons didn't stay too long. Daddy hired Harry Pollard, a nephew of James and Todd, to take Thompson's place. Harry, wife, Florine and young daughter, Mary Eva, moved into the cottage built for the Thompsons. Harry and Florine had another daughter, Ann, while living in the cottage. Harry and Fluorine were hard workers. Daddy agreed to let Harry raise chickens on his own. Harry lived on his egg money and saved his salary. He later bought some acreage next to Tuttle's from Daddy and built a house. He still worked for Daddy while doing a little farming on his own. The Pollards were a real asset to us.