Back to Glenville. I stayed in the dormitory this time. Gangoo had died while I was at William & Mary. Aunt Ivy had retired from teaching at the college and had a job in the next county, Calhoon county, as a supervisor to elementary teachers . She didn’t drive, so she got to the schools any way she could. Sometimes riding with the postman. She rented an apartment in Grantsville, about 20 miles from Glenville. When I was free, sometimes I would go drive her to where she needed to go.

I dated the young Home Demonstration Agent some. Sometimes I would go with her in her car to a home to demonstrate. One home was in a remote village on a one lane mountain road that went in a creek bed for about half a mile. The water was only a few inches deep unless it rained. There was another way out that didn’t go through the creek but it was further. A storm was brewing while we were there, so we returned the long way. The next morning, I noticed a gash in one of her tires with the tube sticking out. It must have been cut on a rock. I put the spare on for her.

The dormitory was next to the math building. I had an eight o’clock math class. I would get out of bed on the first bell (5 minutes before eight) and be in class by eight. The professor would lock the door at eight. I was never late. Students that were late had to miss class.

The car developed a whine in the differential, similar to what it did before it locked up. The Ford dealer was managed by Donald Barker, a third grade playmate. He said he would dissemble the differential for $15. I suspected foul play in Iowa. Sure enough, a piece of old tire was wrapped around the shaft and file marks were on the gears. I mailed a copy of the repair bill to the dealer in Iowa for them to pay. They denied charging me for new parts. I paid for new parts this time.

I had 3 roommates. I don’t remember all their names. I do remember Van Bingman. His home was over the mountain and across the river not too far away. I went home with him at least once. We had to cross a river on a small hand operated ferry. His family had their own gas well for heat and lights. I don’t think they had electricity. It was a log house with an outside toilet.

Instead of going home for Christmas, I stayed with Aunt Ivy. Her sister, Aunt Rachel, also visited Aunt Ivy at that time. Aunt Rachel was a Home Economics teacher. She fattened me up with lemon pies, among other foods. After two weeks, my clothes were tight. Aunt Ivy bought me a whole new wardrobe including an overcoat.

Van had a motor cycle that was banned from campus because he almost ran into the college president on the sidewalk while Van was intoxicated. I was the only one in the room with a car, so I loaned it out often. The Chevy wasn’t in the best of shape. I traded it for Van’s Harley. No money exchanged. One of the other roommates wanted to ride the bike. I hesitated, but he assured me he had ridden a motor cycle before. Bad news; he lost control in the parking lot, ripping off a fender of a parked car and ramming the side of the dorm. Luckily, he wasn’t hurt. The Harley wasn’t in the best of shape either. The front brake didn’t work and while i was riding downtown, the front wheel collapsed.

Here I was a senior and had not chosen a major. Education was the only one I could get without taking more subjects than I could get in one year. So Secondary Education it was. I took my directed teaching in Grantsville, staying with Aunt Ivy. I had to ride the Harley to class twice a week. The weather wasn’t too good, so Aunt Ivy bought me a car, a 1937 Plymouth. It wasn’t in the best of shape either. The motor soon went bad. The dealer split the repair bill with Aunt Ivy.

When it was time for graduating exercises, I wasn’t sure I would get a diploma. It seemed I was one credit short. I would go through the exercise, only to go to summer school to get the credit. I was determined not to go through the exercise if I wasn’t going to get my diploma then. A final check with the administration revealed that I would get a diploma without any more credits. I went through the exercise and gave my diploma to Aunt Ivy without even opening it. I don’t think I saw it again until recently while sorting through a box of things from Aunt Ivy.

My youngest sister, Jane, was also at Glenville College for the ‘49 - ‘50 school year. We didn’t see much of each other. When school was out and it was time to go home, I had a car and motor cycle to take back to the farm. Jane had her driver’s license, but didn’t have much experience driving. She, reluctantly, drove the car and I rode the bike. I don’t remember any problems on the trip.

I didn’t want to teach. I liked, and still do, farm life. Daddy and I formed an informal partnership. It seemed that there was only a place to eat and sleep as reward for my effort.

A letter came from the Beckley, West Virginia school board offering me a job teaching high school math. I ignored the letter. A telegram followed with the same message. I Ignored the telegram. Next, a phone call. I told him that I was not interested. Beckley is said to be the highest paying school system in W. Va.

By now, Daddy had a Farmall “M” tractor with steel wheels on the rear and no self starter. It wasn’t long before Daddy bought wheels and tires for the rear. He wasn’t interested in my suggestion that he buy a battery, generator and starter until he cranked the tractor while it was in gear. The tractor pinned him against a gas drum, but the front wheels turned against a root, stalling the tractor. He wasn’t hurt, but I had to start the tractor and back it up to free him. We soon had a starter and lights. Other equipment included a John Deere wire tie hay baler. It was designed for two people to ride on the bailer to poke the wires through and make the tie. It was a very dusty and trying job. Harry Pollard would ride the bailer and do both jobs. At the end of the day, the bails had to be picked up and put in the barn.

I arranged to buy a used Alice Chalsmers combine. Daddy was on the board of directors at Production Credit Association. He checked on the owner’s credit and found that PCA had a lien on that combine. I got the combine, but paid PCA. That combine had a platform for someone to ride and bag the grain as it came out. Three or four bags would collect on a chute to be released in bunches. We put about two bushels in a bag, weighing about 120 pounds per bag. Another big job at the end of the day picking up the bags of grain.

About the only new pieces of equipment Daddy bought were the Farmall tractor and a 1947 Ford two ton truck. The truck had a 12 foot stake body, split rear and power assist breaks. It did a good job, but if it set out overnight it would not start until the dew dried. The distributor was under the water pump - very hard to wipe off.

We had a Sears front end loader for the Farmall. I built a wooden tank on the combine to catch the grain and used one of the hydraulic cylinders from the front end loader to dump the grain into the truck. This eliminated the need to bag and pick up the grain.

The line at the grain elevator got quite long by the middle of the wheat harvesting season. It took most of the day to fill the truck with about 200 bushels of wheat. I would eat supper and take the load to Richmond to sell. The grain elevator unloaded trucks all night. I would sometimes get back just in time to start another load. Sometimes, while in line, I would ask the driver in front of me to pull up my truck while I slept on top of the load. Sometimes this worked well, but sometimes the truck behind me would come around while the truck in front was pulling up. Daddy was a big help. He would have the combine greased and ready to go when I got back. One day it was after noon when I returned. Daddy had not only greased the combine, he thought he would have a tank full of wheat for me. Not so. When I pulled into the field, the combine was at the other end of the field with grain pouring out onto the ground. Daddy never looked back and he had not lowered the tank to catch the wheat.

Daddy wanted to expand the livestock. I was mostly interested in grain farming. We divided the fields and equipment and dissolved the informal partnership. The grain would be my endeavor, the livestock his. Daddy had beef cows, hogs and sheep supposedly for profit. He also had milk cows and chickens, meat and eggs for family use. It seemed to me that most of the time when I got busy with the grain, the cows would get out. I had to stop to help get them in and repair the fence.

The first sawmill Daddy bought was small and slow. Later, he purchased a used commercial mill. The wooden parts were in bad shape. Grandfather Spicer replaced all the wood parts and helped set it up. It worked well. During the winter months when farming was slack, we would run the mill. We had a short crew. Usually Harry, Daddy and myself. We would cut logs one day and saw them into lumber the next. Harry did most of the sawing while Daddy took the lumber off the rollers and I turned logs. Once one of the dogs, that holds the log in place, swung into the saw. Teeth from the saw went flying. One tooth stuck in Harry’s neck. That is the only accident I remember at the mill. Harry got all right. By time we hauled the lumber to town and sold it, we would have been better off selling the timber on the stump. In fact, all of our farming was not profitable. Each year we got deeper and deeper in debt.

I bought a used dump mechanism from a salvage yard for the truck. It really helped unloading grain and silage.

Daddy hired some coal miners from West Virginia to cut pulp wood. He built a shanty for them to camp in. They were taking a load of wood to the pulp mill in Doswell, Va. when a car from New York hit the left front of the truck while the truck was making a left turn. A road repair crew saw it happen and said the truck had proper turn and break lights working. The lady from New York said she didn’t see the truck turning. It was also in a no passing zone. It bent her front fender and ruined the tire. I got there in time to put the spare on for her and she was good to go. The truck was worse off. I was able to get the tie rod back on, but the wheels were badly out of line. By the hardest, we were able to drive into the mill lot and unload. The lady had Allstate insurance. We had the truck repaired right away because the wood would deteriorate in the woods that time of year and had to be gotten out. Allstate sent a check for only half of the bill. They clamed that we did not get enough estimates. I advised daddy not to accept the check. He sent it back and they paid the full bill.

Some friends, Reg and Justine Rooney, I had made in W. Va. were now living in Richmond. Justine was teaching at Highland Springs Elementary School, near Richmond. She asked me if I would like a blind date with a teacher. Sure, what have you got. She said I would love this one; wealthy, pretty, etc. I said no. Who have you got that would enjoy a ride in my old 1940 Dodge. Just the one, .

Mary Ellen Proffitt

Our first date took us to a friend’s house for an opossum hunt. Of course, it was dark in the woods. We had flashlights, but it was hard to see where we stepped. Mary Ellen stepped into a stump hole losing her shoe and getting her sock wet. I don’t remember getting any opossums. After the hunt, we played Hearts with the other hunters (I Don’t remember who or how many) and I washed and dried Mary Ellen’s sock by the stove. I drank some beer; Mary Ellen didn’t. I am surprised she agreed to see me again, but she did.

Highland Springs is about 20 miles from the farm through the country; many turns and curves.

The first time I went to her home in Fluvanna County, Va., her father commented after I left, “You’ll have to make that thing bigger.” She was making an afghan. I weighed 220 pounds.

I think it was February 1954 that we first met. We were married in the Columbia Memorial Baptist Church August 1, 1954. I figured it was better to leave the car in sight so pranksters would be less likely to “fix it up” if in plain view. I was afraid they would find it if I tried to hide it. It was “fixed” a little. They put a piece of cardboard in front of the radiator so it would run hot. It did. They tied cans to the radius rod so they would be under the car and hard to remove. It caused the steering to bind. I removed them right away.

The photographer irritated me. We had to do everything over again for a better picture. We do have some nice pictures.

Bride’s Parents (Tommy & Grace Proffitt, Bride & Groom (Mary Ellen & Bill Myers),
Groom’s Parents (Olive & Charles Myers)

We left on a dirt road chased by pranksters. I didn’t try to out run them. I just turned around and lost them. At least they had to eat my dust.

I had made reservations at Natural Bridge, Va. I guess they didn’t know we were going to be newly-weds. The only room available had twin beds. We tried to use only one, but that changed before the night was over. From there, we went to visit my sister, Jane, in Charleston, W. Va. She hadn’t been married very long, herself. We had fun.

As most young men in their late twenties, I thought I was in control and could handle any situation. Soon after moving into a small apartment that was made by combining a chicken house and smoke house, Mary Ellen agreed that I should be entitled to “a night out with the boys”. Wrong! After leaving her alone in the apartment, I returned home kind of late after playing cards “with the boys”. She met me at the door with her bag packed. “Are the keys in the car? I am going back to mama.” Luckily, when I was ready to leave the “boys”, my car wouldn’t start. I drove one of their cars home. I was upset as well as Mary Ellen and offered to take her in my friend’s car. We both cried, but didn’t go. (Just writing this has brought tears to my eyes.)

In just one month less than a year of marriage, we had a son, David. The apartment was only two rooms, a bath and a walk-in closet. Not room for an extended family. A family of coal miners daddy had hired to cut wood, lived in a four room cottage on the farm. David was not a surprise, so daddy built a small house down the road a ways for the wood cutters. About that time, my sister, Mary, returned to the farm with her husband. The wood cutters left and Mary moved into the new house. Mary Ellen, David and I moved into the cottage the wood cutters left.

About the house built for the wood cutters. It was a small story and half house built very cheaply. Daddy planned to wire it with one 30amp circuit, one receptacle in the kitchen and one pull chain light hanging from the ceiling of each room.. He asked me do the wiring. I insisted that if I did any of the wiring, I would add more receptacles in the kitchen, a receptacle in each room, wall switches for the lights, provision for an electric water heater and provision for an electric range. All this would call for a 60 amp service. After he had trouble doing the job himself, he agreed to my terms and I re-did the wiring. An electric water heater and range were installed for Mary and Jim.

Before Mary Ellen, David and I moved into the cottage, we added a screened-in back porch, a small front porch, an electric water heater, floor covering in the kitchen and painted all four rooms. It seemed like a palace after the apartment.

There was a problem with the cottage, though. I accidentally stuck the point of a pencil in my finger which got infected. I spent 10 days in the hospital. After several days of multiple penicillin shots, I told the nurse she would have to bring three orderlies with her to give me the next shot. I wasn’t going to cooperate any more. She didn’t bring the orderlies, but neither did she give me the shot. I was broken out with hives all over my body. Thus, it went on my record, and it stands today, that I was allergic to penicillin. I think it was nerves. After the infection left my hand, the doctor said he had given me a 50/50 chance of loosing my hand. That’s not the end. Back to the cottage; evidently the wood cutters had left bad germs. For months after the hand incident, I had boils on different parts of my body. As one would clear up, another would form.

Jeanie was born just one week before David was one year old. I have fond memories of David and Jeanie splashing in a small plastic pool and a mocking bird perched on the play pen in the yard while David was in the pen. David wanted Jeanie to have a toy in the play pen. Mary Ellen got there just in time to stop him from pushing the little red wagon over the edge of the play pen. Jeanie was in the pen.

David (2) & Jeanie (1) on the front porch step of the cottage

Even the cottage was small for the four of us, but before we leave the cottage, I want to share one more pleasantry. I guess Jeanie was about two when she and David had small tricycles. They sometimes rode them in the house. The house had four rooms and a bath with doors from each room into the next room making a circle for them to ride. The handle bars would barely fit through the bath room door, but they would just fly around the loop. I don’t remember any mishaps

One time when mother and Daddy were gone for a few days, we rented a house from a church friend and moved from the cottage. Daddy was upset, but so be it.

The son of the owner of the house was about my age and was an auto mechanic. He had a full time job but also worked on cars in his shop next door. I guess I hadn’t learned my lesson. I would spend many evenings in the shop with Whetty. I guess Mary Ellen had accepted the fact that she had married a not so perfect husband. I wish I could go back and do it differently.

David, Jeanie & her doll at the Portwood house.

Living off the farm did help get me out from under Daddy’s supervision all the time. And mother couldn’t tell Mary Ellen that the grass needs to be cut or okra picked. Jeff was born while we lived in the Portwood house.

I was more interested in grain farming and Daddy was more interested in livestock so we divided the partnership. The 47’ Ford truck and grain equipment was declared mine. Daddy clamed the livestock (Angus cattle, sheep, hogs and chickens) and haying equipment. Aunt Ivy agreed to sell Mary Ellen and me a portion of the farm that she had bought, known as Tuttles - 200 acres that was mostly open fields. I also rented another hundred acres, or so, near by.

I continued to farm and started building a house at Tuttles. I had cut lumber for the house and stacked it in a shed to dry. I really didn’t know how to build a house and we didn’t have money to hire a builder. I could, however, do the foundation. After that, Daddy helped me frame the house. A carpenter friend was going to help, but he just didn’t get around to it. He visited after the house was framed. I asked him what he thought. His reply was a laugh and he said he never saw anything like it, but it won’t fall down. (It still stands.) It was leaning, though; about four inches, as we found out when I started bricking the house. Another neighbor did help me get started with the brick. We allowed for the lean and laid the brick straight. The house looks fine.

We had completed the roof, had only sub floors, rafters showing from down stairs, plywood over the front entrance and where the fireplace was to go, the windows were in, a temporary spigot was in the kitchen area, and an extension cord through a window when we moved in. David was six and ready to start school. We wanted him to start where he would stay. It was September so I put an oil circulator in the center of the house with the stove pipe out through an upstairs window. One cool night the wind blew the stove pipe down and put the fire out. Fresh oil came into the fire chamber and ignited an explosion that blew the draft regulator off into the bath tub. The house filled with smoke. I turned off the oil and threw water into the fire chamber to cool it off. We spent the rest of the night at a neighbor’s house.

Unfinished house at Tuttles

I continued to work on the house. Soon the fireplace was in, sheet rock was hung and the front door in. I installed an oil furnace under the house. It used less oil than the circulator and kept the whole house warm.

I tried to finish the sheet rock myself. The more I worked with it, the worse it looked. I gave up and hired a finisher. Another neighbor was going to help me with the plumbing. He didn’t get around to it. I tried sweating the copper pipe. After finishing the cold water pipes, I turned on the water only to see water spraying, from what looked like most of the joints. It was several days before I had the gumption to try to fix the leaking joints. I did start with what looked like the worse joint. It turned out that it was the only one leaking. It sprayed on the other joints making it look like they were leaking also.

Nancy was born while we lived at Tuttles. Farming was not supporting our family of six. I reluctantly accepted a teaching job near Richmond (Another story to come later). One of my General Science pupils was disruptive to the class, but he made excellent grades. His father was a plumber. I asked the student if he would help me with the drain piping. He borrowed tools from his father and helped me one Saturday. We leaded all the cast iron joints. I couldn’t have done it by myself because not only did I not have the tools, I didn’t know how. The student was no longer a problem in the class.

I bought a couple of three-day-old calves at the livestock auction in Richmond for David and Jeff to raise on dried milk. David often got up before we did and went out to feed the calves. Sometimes he would lock himself out. We had to get up to let him in. This got old, so we told him that if he did it again he would have to just stay out and weed the garden until we got up. The next morning when we got up, he was weeding the garden.

I was not given corn to eat before I was ten. I don’t know why and didn’t keep our children from eating corn, but we didn’t encourage it. Jeff loved corn. Sometimes he would go into the field, pull down a stalk of corn and eat the fresh field corn right on the stalk. I can’t tell that it hurt him.

An old commercial lawn mower that Grandfather Spicer had brought to the farm wouldn’t cut grass any more but it would still run. I removed the blade and let David drive it around the place. We had a picture (I can’t find it) of him pulling about three wagons, full of his friends, at his birthday party.

As I mentioned, farming did not support our family. Each year we got deeper in debt. I worked some while still farming. One winter job was with Producers Cooperative Exchange. My job was in the shop assembling and delivering farm machinery. One item I “dealer prepped” and delivered was a small Cleat Track tractor. It was a three cylinder job. I told the shop foreman that it was running on only three cylinders. He said it sounded fine to him. I said, “Yes, but check closer.” He thought it had four cylinders.

I parked it by the gas pump and filled the tank. While I was in the office to get the paper work, the sales manager decided to help by topping off the fuel tank. Luckily, he met me at the tractor and told me what he had done. I noticed fuel dripping from the air filter. I asked him where he put the fuel. He pointed to the air intake cap over the hood (the fuel tank was under the seat). I removed the air cleaner cup and fuel ran out of the pipe. If I had tried to start the tractor with fuel in the air cleaner, it would have done severe damage to the motor.

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