Autobiography of William Jenkins (Jenk) Stephensonn

1945 to present (2020)

There is a time in one’s life when it’s time to reflect back. One wonders where all the time may have gone and how did it go by so quickly. What have you accomplished and what do you have to look forward to in the time that remains. I’m going to make an attempt to talk about my life and connect that life to it’s past. I’ve been doing genealogy research off and on for the past 30 years. The basics of the information I gained from my father over the years, when I really wasn’t listening very well. Had I known that I would be doing this, I would have paid much more attention to the stories he told. Now I can only trust my memory and do research to verify the information that I recall being told. Maybe research is the way it should be done anyway.

Recalling that my father had said our family origins began in Northampton County, North Carolina, I begin to work backwards until I could find the origin of my family roots. My father indicated that he wasn’t sure where the family was prior to North Carolina, but maybe it was England. I had my work cut out for me.

My father was born in Texas, my grandfather in Arkansas, and great-grandfather in North Carolina. That was the information I had gained from my father. I had to fill in the details.

I, William Jenkins (Jenk) Stephenson, was born in Spur, Texas, on October 21, 1945 to my parents Walter James (Jim) Stephenson and Jewel Etha Rich Stephenson. It would actually be 15 years before I lived in Spur. My parents and I lived in McAdoo, Texas, a small town in Dickens County about 25 miles from Spur.

Let me give you some of the history of that little town I grew up in. Ah, the internet is a wonderful thing for that is where all this information came from.

M cAdoo is located in Dickens County, Texas, with the community extending slightly over the Crosby County line. From its center it claims territory approximately three miles west, five miles northeast, and to the Caprock on the north, east and south. Just under the Cap to the east is the town of Dickens, county seat of Dickens County and a little farther south is the town of Spur. Both were prosperous towns long before McAdoo came into being. Settlers were beginning to come into that area and the Indians and buffalo were driven on top of the Cap. In the 1870´s buffalo were being slaughtered by the thousands for their hides. The bodies were left for the vultures and the bones left to bleach in the hot prairie sun. In 1871 McKenzie, chasing a band of Indians passed through where McAdoo now sits. The 1880 census of Crosby County lists Camp Roberts, a Texas Ranger Camp, located west of McAdoo on Cat Fish Creek. After the Indians and buffalo were chased away, cowboys began to ride up on the Cap hunting for cattle, and cattle drives crossed the area. Soon after 1900 settlers began to move into the area. The Bouchers, Elsby´s, Rufus Wallace, and others.

Mail was delivered by horse and buggy on a route from Emma to Dickens. In the fall of 1914, J.A. Abernathy applied for a post office. It was granted in 1915, named in honor of William G. McAdoo, U.S. Secretary of Treasury 1913-19. Mr. Hines was appointed postmaster. The original post office was situated a mile west of the present town. Mr. Hines operated a country store in connection with the office.

In 1918, J. E. Brannen opened the first grocery and dry goods store at the present site of McAdoo. Rufus Wallace, who settled there around 1910, often told of farmers with wagons and teams joining together hauling stock for the store from Spur. They arrived just at sundown January 9, 1918, too late to unload their wagons. The store was stocked and opened for business the next day. It was a two story building with the upstairs serving as a Woodman´s Lodge Hall and the lower floor for the post office and store. The first post office building was moved to the present townsite and after an addition was added served as a dwelling. Wallace razed it in 1958 and built a new home in its place. Shortly after this a blacksmith shop was opened and a drug store with soda fountain followed. In 1920 Mr. H.P. Edwards bought out Mr. Brannen. A variety store and rooming house was built by a Mr. Lanier. Cotton was being planted and after a successful crop or two a gin was built in 1922, but it was destroyed by fire before even one bale could be ginned. It was rebuilt. In 1924 a bumper crop was made, town lots began to sell and more businesses were added. Uncle Bob Nickels built his first cotton gin in 1924.

On December 11, 1925 a destructive blaze raged through Rufus Wallace´s drug store, Duncan Brothers Cafe, A.V. Wommack´s meat market, Doc Loyd´s grocery, O.M. Baily and Sy Brantley´s Cafe, John Formby´s barber shop and Frank Barton´s service station. Flames swept through the principal block on the west side of main street. One grocery store, service station, and barber shop were spared. Another big blaze in August 1929 destroyed the service station at the extreme north end of the business block, operated by Bob Hinkston. Also destroyed was the adjoining mercantile business owned and operated by A.M. Lay and Mac Brantley. The latter was the town´s first store, originally opened by Brannen in 1918. H.P. Edwards purchased it in 1921 and sold it to Lay and Brantley in 1927. This business was rebuilt the same fall. All the businesses were rebuilt and others added until the town of McAdoo had, a post office, four grocery stores, 2 gins, 3 blacksmith shops, 2 barber shops, 1 drug store with soda fountain, 2 cafes, 1 picture show, 5 service stations, 3 wholesale dealers, 1 school, rooming house, meat market, mattress factory, International Harvester dealer, 3 churches, doctor´s office, telephone office, golf course, beauty shop, 2 garages, hardware and lumber, feel mill and store, cotton yard, ice house, public weigher, jailhouse and deputy sheriff.

In the 1930´s Lay and Brantley´s grocery would have drawings every Saturday afternoon. The streets would be lined with cars and some parking on the side streets. Names were drawn and the winner often getting a pound of coffee, sack of flour or a sack of sugar. The front of this store was also the gathering place on election day. A large board was set up just outside the store and as the results were received by telephone the results were posted on the board. Politics were discussed, sometimes a little too much, the women would sit in the cars visiting and the kids would play in the street sharing a bag of candy, someone was rich enough to buy. Fall was a very busy time for all, school would turn out so the children could help gather the cotton and it was this time of the year the Medicine Show would come to town. Everyone would hurry and gather enough cotton so it could be brought to the gin at the Medicine Show. Boxes of candy with a prize in every box, a tonic to cure all ills and lots of music and slapstick comedy made many a tired cotton picker forget the hot sun and heavy cotton sack. Sundays almost everyone went to one of the three churches. The buildings were always full. In those days you either went to some one´s house for dinner or someone went to yours. Fried chicken in the spring and summer and ham or baked chicken and dressing in the fall and winter. Easter was always a big day. Bright new summer dresses and Easter egg hunts in the afternoons.

Today you drive over a modern divided highway from Dickens to Lubbock. Just after you get on top of the Cap you see a sign McAdoo three miles to the north. You turn off on a farm to market road that the pioneers would have marveled at. The land is level and as far as you can see the wheat or cotton depending on what season it is, is like an ocean waving in the breeze. To the west you can see the cemetery where so many of the early settlers are buried.

Source:Top of the Cap
Author: Mildred Cornelius
Copyright 1985
Reprinted with permission

Wow, I didn’t know so much about my little hometown. My grandfather, Samuel Walter Stephenson, moved to McAdoo in about 1915 (verify this). His farm of 160 acres was located about 2.5 miles east of McAdoo. The primary crop was cotton, although it was a farm that grew most everything they needed to sustain life. My father had an 80-acre farm about 1 mile south of my grandparents and across the road another 80 acre farm. Three of my Uncles (William Nathan Stephenson, Charlie Clinton Stephenson, and Samuel Jenkins (John) Stephenson) owned farms just to the east of my Dad. They all were 80-acre farms. My Uncle John never lived on his farm, at least during my life there. I grew up on a farm performing all the chores one might think a farm boy would perform—milking cows, feeding chickens, gathering eggs, slopping pigs, riding horses, and playing in the hay stack.

In 1952, I started the first grade in McAdoo school. Maybe a little school history is in order…good ol’internet.

In Loving Memory of the

McAdoo School
1914-1985

"Our town was so small, that when the
kids grew up they closed the school."

In the year of 1908 the first school, located on the site of what is now McAdoo, was conducted in one room of the Abernathy residence. The teacher of this school was a Mr. Marshall.

The first school lasted about a year and a half, and in 1910 a school was built approximately one mile south of the present McAdoo townsite. This school was named Prairie View. A stage occupied almost one third of the floor space in the one room building, and the school was given the nickname "High State."

Later another school was built about two miles south of Prairie View. This school had no official name, but was called "Crazy Flat".

In 1914, a three room wooden building was erected at McAdoo and students from both Prairie View and Crazy Flat attended this school. The Crazy Flat building was sold to Mr. and Mrs. Sam Fox and became a residence. The little white school house at Prairie View was moved to McAdoo to become a part of the new school system.

The brick building that still stands at McAdoo was erected in 1928. Other buildings that were added at various times include the gymnasium, lunch room, home economics cottage, library, science laboratory, and kindergarten building.

The people of McAdoo always had great pride in their school, and the students excelled both academically and athletically. The boys' basketball teams won in state competition in Austin on three different occasions. They won the Class B State Basketball Championship in the years of 1960, 1963 and 1964. The McAdoo girls advanced to regional play in basketball several times and to state competition in volleyball.

It was a sad occasion for the McAdoo Community in 1985 when, due to declining enrollment and decrease in state funding, the school was forced to close. The last class of graduates received their diplomas on May 26, 1985, and the McAdoo Independent School District was officially abolished on July 1, 1985.

That picture of the brick building is the one I started school in. It housed all 12 grades. The first and second grades were taught in one room, while the 3 rd and 4 th grades were in an adjacent room. My first grade teacher was Mabel Laughlin. I continued in the McAdoo School until the fourth grade when I moved out of town. The school still stands today, though vacant, and still looks pretty much the same as it did when I attended. (Check out McAdoo, Texas)

The mid-1950s were very dry years. As a farmer my Dad depended on rains for growing crops—we had no irrigation and actually there was very little in the area at all. Most of the farms were dry land farms. Without rain there were no money crops. Without crops there was no money for the family. So my Dad moved the family to Seadrift, Texas. My Aunt Grace and Uncle Carmie Fendley lived in Port Lavaca, Texas, which is not far from Seadrift. I started elementary school in Seadrift. My Dad found a job working in Seadrift as a welder. But a few months later he found a new job in Port Lavaca running a wrecking yard for a car dealer. After about 3 months in Seadrift we moved to Port Lavaca, living on the premises of the wrecking yard in a small travel trailer. Of course I moved to the elementary school in Port Lavaca.

My Dad was a farmer at heart, so in the Spring of 1956 we moved back to McAdoo. He was ready to hope for more rain and try to make a new crop at farming. But it didn’t work out that way. Again there was not enough rain and we made no money. So my Dad moved the family to Snyder, Texas. This would have been the 1956-57 school year and I was in the 5 th grade. My Dad worked in the oil fields. I remember getting the measles and missing the last two weeks of school. The teacher came out to our rented house to check on me because I normally did not miss school. I was concerned about my grades but she told me not to worry and I was relieved. After school was out we returned to McAdoo to try farming again.

I grew up with lots of animals on that farm in McAdoo. We had all kinds—cats, dogs, cows, pigs, sheep, goats, ducks, geese, chickens, and horses—just about any kind of farm animal that you can think of. Of course I learned how to take care for them all. My dad and I would milk the cows every morning and evening as well as take care of the other animals. It was here that I learned to ride horses, and actually became a very good rider. Gathering eggs was one of my earliest chores that I can remember—mostly from the hen-house, but also from the haystack where some of our wilder chickens would lay their eggs. We mostly had white-leghorn or brown-leghorn chickens, but also some game chickens, too.

We also killed our own meat for food. My dad would order baby chicks from Sears and Roebuck and they would be delivered to us by the US Post Office in small cardboard crates. We would raise them to fryer size and then kill them and put them in the deepfreeze. We also killed our own hogs for food. There was no squeamishness about the killing of animals for food—it was just the normal thing for us to do. Killing hogs was a challenging job and usually involved the help of one of my dad’s brothers and some of his kids. My dad or my uncle would use a 22-caliber rifle and shoot the hog in such a way that death was instant. They would then cut the throat of the hog and let the blood drain as quickly as possible.

We would boil water in a large cast-iron wash pot, cover the hog with burlap bags and poor the scalding water over the bags. This would quickly loosen the hair and allow us young boys (my cousins and I) to scrape off the hair. Sometimes more scalding water was poured over the tough hair to loosen it. After the hog was scrapped clean it was pulled up by a chain hoist attached to a singletree hooked into the heel tendons of the hog. With a sharp knife the hog was slit open and all the internal organs were lowered into washtubs and taken away. With this gutting process complete my dad would cut up the rest of the hog into appropriate parts—hams, shoulders, ribs, pork chops, etc. My mom would do the wrapping and place it in the deepfreeze. We would do a similar killing of beef but not as often. For the year we would always have bacon, sausage, chicken and beef from our own farm animals.

My Dad never really enjoyed working for other people. He preferred the independent living of the farm life, but it was not to be. The summer and fall of 1957 did not produce a good crop so I’m sure my father felt trapped. No good crops in recent years and mounting debts. He put both of our farms up for sale. In early 1958 the farms were sold to a neighbor, G. B Morris, and we moved to (Estencia) New Mexico. My father thought he would like to be a rancher, like his Uncle Jake Murphree. We lived in a small travel trailer while my Dad was looking at land to buy, but honestly, he didn’t have enough money to purchase any land. We were in New Mexico for only about 2 weeks and I did not start any school.

We moved to Lubbock, Texas in March 1958 and my Dad parked the travel trailer in the back of my Aunt Edna’s house at 505 Avenue S. I started school in the 6 th grade at K-Carter elementary, the same school that my cousin Robena McCoy had attended.

In the summer of 1958 we bought a house in Lubbock at 3011 30 th Street—the house still stands today. It was a pale yellow colored house in those days. Maybe it’s one of the few that still stands today that I lived in. That fall I started 7 th grade at Hutchinson Junior High, just down the block from the house. It was there that I spent the next 3 years going to school. And there I met my friend Donald Julian. Donald and I were friends all through those Junior High years. Once we had a reading competition to see who could read the most books during the school year. I think he beat me by about 3 books—something like 35 to 38.

In the summer of 1959, my father sent me to live with his brother, Uncle Nath (Aunt Jewel, and their son, Joe) to work on his farm. I spent the entire summer there working on the farm, mostly driving a tractor but also chopping cotton in the daytime and of course doing chores in the morning and early evening. This had been my grandfather’s farm that he had grubbed out all of the mesquite trees. There is really not an inch of that farm that I have not been over—all 160 acres. I spent the next two summers (1960 and 1961) doing pretty much the same thing. For the work done these three summers, I received no pay and I worked long hours every day.

The 10 th grade saw me going to Monterey High School, which was about 18 blocks from my house and I walked it each day, but only for about a month. My father moved again. This time we moved to Spur, Texas, my birthplace and the first time I ever lived there. I was taking French at Monterey High but of course in a small town like Spur French wasn’t offered at the high school. They switched me into something else and I don’t recall what it was. It was October 1961 that we moved to Spur. My dad got a job working at the cotton gin. I walked across town to attend Spur High School—I just loved my geometry class—it was fun. It was in Spur that I actually got my first non-farm job. I worked at the Palace Theater on Friday and Saturday nights for $3.25 per night. The hours were from about 5 pm to about midnight. On Friday night I’d work at the Palace and on Saturday night I’d work at the theater across the street where all movies were shown in Spanish. In the Fall of the year there were lots of migrant Mexicans that came to work on the farms and the show was always packed on Saturday. Mostly I just sold popcorn and cleaned up afterwards.

However, nothing really lasts long for in March of 1962 we moved again, this time to Swenson, Texas. Well not actually in Swenson as the town probably had not more then 10 people that lived there. We moved to a farm about 5 miles out and Dad worked for a Mrs. Berry that owned the farm. Actually he farmed the land as a share-cropper and worked for her in taking care of the cattle that she had. We attended Aspermont schools which were about 30 miles away. I remember catching the school bus just as the sun appeared over the horizon. There was already one little girl that had been on the bus for at least a half an hour before me and my brother and sisters were picked up. As I recall there were only about 11 of us that rode that bus. So I finished the 10 th grade in three high schools that year—Monterey, Spur, and Aspermont.

In March of 1963 we moved again. This time to Paducah, Texas and I was a junior in high school. I remember clearly upon checking out of school in Aspermont that the Assistant Principal, Mr. Bennett, told me as I left: “If you ever need any help in going to college you let me know”. I had always been a good student in school and had always known that I was going to college, somewhere, somehow. I never saw the Assistant Principal again, but have always remembered his kindness and regretted never getting back to him that I did graduate college.

We moved to a farm about 10 miles southeast of Paducah (the Chalk community) and my Dad went to work for Vard Worley. My Dad worked for $1 per hour and on weekends and during the summer I earned 85 cents per hour. I did a lot of different things—moved irrigation pipe, drove tractors plowing in the fields and built several fences. We also built a new barn and a new cattle lot out of cable and staves. Of course I went to Paducah High School and rode the bus in every school day along with my brothers and sisters. (Fifty years later, Patty and I went back to the area and the cattle lot was still there, though is disrepair.) Somewhere I have a video of my comments there with Patty.

Aunt Lou (my Dad’s sister) and Uncle Kermit Stanley lived on a farm near Paducah, but their farm was about 10 miles southwest of Paducah. My cousin Maurice Stanley was elected president of the student body at Paducah High School and a star football player but he was one grade behind me. My senior year I ordered an $18 senior ring but only had $6 to put down. I had no idea where the other $12 was going to come from. One day I was called into a room and there stood two of my classmates—they had paid the other $12 for my ring. Now I don’t know if they paid it themselves or collected it from class members. No one ever told me and I never asked where the money came from, but I did enjoy wearing my ring like all the other seniors. Of course I thanked them for the donation and I still have the ring today. One of the two classmates that gave me the money was Beth Mayberry—she and I had been chosen students of the month a couple of months before. I graduated from high school on May 28, 1964, something neither of my parents had done. They valued education and wanted me to go to college.

I had applied to go to Texas Technological College (now Texas Tech University) in Lubbock and was accepted, but my housing was turned down. You see, I had applied to live with my Aunt and her daughter in Lubbock, but in those days entering freshmen were required to stay in the dorm if your parents did not live in Lubbock. I didn’t have enough money to stay in the dorm. I barely was scraping enough to pay for tuition and books. My Aunt Edna McCoy (Dad’s sister) had said I could live with her for free. I didn’t know how I was going to get to go to college—I surely didn’t have enough money for dorm life. Of course, I didn’t even know that college loans existed.

One day my dad was talking with Vard Worley and told him of my housing being rejected and he said “let me have a copy of that letter and I’ll see what I can do”. Of course I didn’t know that he was friends with one of the University Board of Regents who was also in the Texas legislature. All summer I continued working on the farm ($.85 per hour) and saving my money. Then one day I got a letter in the mail saying my housing had been approved to live with my Aunt. Needless to say I was a happy young man and have always been appreciative of Mr. Worley’s efforts. I always suspected that Mr. Worley had contacted Bill Heatly, our local legislator to Austin, and a member of the Board of Regents for Texas Tech, for his assistance. But of course, I will never know how he accomplished my housing approval to Tech.

In September of 1964 I moved in with my aunt and started college. She lived 18 blocks (one way) from the university and I walked it each day. It didn’t matter if it was hot, cold, rainy, or snowing, I went to class 6 days a week that year. You see, in those days we had MWF classes (Monday, Wednesday, Friday) and/or TTS classes (Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday). Of course the good thing about TTS classes is that they were all in the morning—Saturday classes always were finished by noon. It wasn’t until my sophomore year that only Tuesday/Thursday classes were started by lengthening the time on Tuesday and Thursday and doing away with Saturday classes, but we students were all happy with it.

The semesters started in September and ended in mid to late January. I lived that year with Aunt Edna and cousin Robena who was just out of college and was teaching her first year. That first year in college (about the middle of the year) I ran into my old junior high buddy, Donald Julian. We had never kept in touch after I had moved away from Lubbock in 1961. As I was walking into the administration building he was coming out and our friendship resumed for the rest of our college years. We had some fun times playing ping pong at the SUB (Student Union Building).

I had not worked during my freshmen year so when it came to a close I knew I had to be concerned about getting money for the sophomore year. My parents had moved to Farwell, Texas (near New Mexico) in the spring of 1965. So when school was out I went to live with them and look for a job. I quickly found one with a local farmer, but he told me he only had about two weeks of work, but I took the job. For the next two weeks for $1 per hour I mostly drove tractors fertilizing his land. At the end of the two weeks he told me I was a good worker and had mentioned me to a neighbor farmer of his and that I should go see him for a possible job. I went to see him that day and he hired me for $1 per hour to start work the next day. Starting that next day and for the rest of the summer I worked 10 hours per day, 7 days a week. I never had a day off the entire summer. I needed the money for school. Mostly it was driving a tractor and moving irrigation pipe.

Right before school started for me, my dad decided to move to Lubbock, which meant I could live at home and go to school. So just east of Lubbock, just beyond the city limits we moved into Uncle Charlie’s (Dad’s brother) old house. It was a tiny house barely big enough to hold the eight of us. My dad sold the last 80 acre farm that we owned (the Taylor 80) sometime in 1965. He was able to buy me an old car (1960 Chevrolet corvair) to use to get to school since we lived about 10 miles from the University.

With school starting, I went looking for a part-time job. The University had a placement job center with job listings. I would go by and check to see what jobs were available and if they would fit into my schedule. I took many temporary day jobs while I was looking. The temporary jobs included such things as washing house windows for a little old lady or re-arranging furniture inside the house. Eventually I found a job working for Furr’s (a grocery chain) as a sacker/stocker. I worked there some evenings and weekends for almost a year until December 7, 1966. On that date Dr. Harold told me I had rheumatic fever and would have to go to bed for a long period of time. I was devastated. I had to withdraw from school, quit my job and remain bed bound. Dr. Harold had said I’d have to remain in bed for 6 months. I was determined that not be the case.

I remained in bed until the spring semester of school in (early Feb) 1967 at which time I re-entered the university. The rheumatic fever had only done minor damage to my heart (aortic insufficiency, it’s called) and I had trouble walking for about 10 months but I continued taking a daily penicillin shot for almost a year. The $3 office-call and shot that Dr. Harold charged was not paid off for a long time, but was eventually paid. I had no medical insurance. I remember my brother, Tom, would help me turn over in bed because it was so painful to move. Dr. Harrold said I’d made a miraculous recovery and in a much shorter period than he had ever seen before.

I had to borrow $400 from the American State Bank in order to get enrolled in school. My dad co-signed my note. Once again I had to find a job and I did at a fast food place just a few blocks from the Tech campus—The CooCoo. Mostly I worked as a cashier taking orders but occasionally as a cook. I was making a $1.15 per hour selling 19 cent hamburgers. I continued working there until I graduated from college.

I also found a second job almost by accident. I had another class in the same building as the University Job Placement Center and walked by there frequently. One day I just stopped and browsed the placement wall and noticed the need for a data processing instructor paying $3.33 per hour. I had recently finished an accounting class that involved data processing equipment so I applied for the job and got it. So for two hours per day for most of my senior year I taught data processing at Merriman’s Business College just two blocks off campus. All of my students were adults ranging in ages from 20 to 35.

I didn’t graduate with my class in May of 1968 since I had dropped out that one semester with rheumatic fever so I had to continue into the fall of 1968. I was a mid-term graduate with a BBA degree in Accounting in January 1969. I had been looking for a job and had found one working for the IRS in San Antonio, Texas, starting after graduation. However, it never happened.

On the last day of school and after my last final exam at Texas Tech I went home and my Mom met me at the door. In her hand was my induction notice into the United States Army. I had been ordered to report for induction in exactly 10 days. I was part of the February draft call of 69,000 young men. I was inducted on February 4, 1969 at Amarillo, Texas.

We spent most of the day walking in our underwear following either a red, blue, or white line up and down the halls. The Vietnam War was raging. That evening I took my first plane ride as they flew us, with a quick stop in Midland, to El Paso, Texas where I took basic training for the next 8 weeks.

I remember arriving in El Paso (Fort Bliss) about midnight and we had not eaten so they took us to the mess hall to eat. We went through a cafeteria type line, got our food and set down at tables to eat. After about three minutes or a couple of bites of food some sergeant yelled “let’s go”. We indicated that we had just gotten our food and he said dump it. We filed by the trash can dumping our just gotten food and moved out. That was my first meal in the army.

The first week I was at the receiving center being issued clothes, taking tests and getting shots. One evening they called about 10 of us into some basement room and said we had scored well on the tests and they were offering us the chance to go to OCS (officer candidate school). They would give us a discharge from the Army and we would join for a three-year period and we could go to OCS and become officers in the Army.. The only openings we were offered were for combat engineers. Four of the young men accepted the offer and the other six of us declined. Since I wasn’t planning on making the military a career I couldn’t see staying in three years just to be an officer as opposed to the two years that I was drafted for.

The week passed and new inductees arrived and we eventually were assigned to our training unit. I was assigned to ( I’ll have to locate the info for this). For the next 8 weeks we all went through boot camp. It included learning how to march, physical conditioning, learning about the Uniform Code of Military Justice, firing range practice, combat training, hand grenade training, long marches, over-night bivouacs, bayonet training, use of the gas mask, and much more. I remember on some of the long marches some of the young inductees would cry and they would get yelled at. (A young boy, about 18, by the name of Shoemaker from Arizona would cry daily, but he stuck with it and made it through just like the rest of us. Eventually everyone made it through. I was already in pretty good physical condition so it was not any real trouble for me.

Boot camp graduation finally arrived and there was a large military ceremony, even my parents with all my brothers and sisters came from Lubbock for the occasion. (http://jenk.com/Carolyn%27s%20Memories/Snow%20and%20the%20Army.htm) I only saw them part of one day and then we were shipped out for AIT (advanced individual training) to Fort Huachuca, near the small town of Sierra Vista, Arizona. I had been assigned an MOS (military occupation specialty) of 71B40? Or in other words a clerk typist. I can only remember two others from boot camp that had the same MOS and were with me in Fort Huachuca—Ron White and Leroy Ziker. For the next six weeks we attended daily classes learning about Army Regulations (ARs). There were about 30 volumes of manuals that we learned how to look up all kinds of rules and regulations and forms. We had weekly tests to pass. It was generally pretty easy stuff. Every afternoon after classes were over we were pretty much on our own and were able to go and do as we pleased on the base—a lot different than boot camp at Fort Bliss where everything was regimented. We could go bowling, to the movies, or to one of the clubs in town as long as we made it back to the barracks by midnight and were ready to go for the next day. After six weeks and we had all finished our schooling, we met each day in morning formation to find out the day’s activities. We were all waiting for orders to find out where we would be sent, but in the meantime they kept us busy working on the trails for a boy scout camp, fighting a grass fire in the nearby area (burned about a 1000 acres, before being put out), and general clean up chores. We thought orders would arrive any day, but it was about two weeks of chores before the orders finally did arrive. During the two week waiting period we saw others being assigned to Korea or Vietnam. Those were the only two places we saw anyone being shipped to. We all wondered where we would go. When the orders did finally come down we all were sent to Korea. But first we could all go home for 17 days. It was a welcome relief.

The army bused us to Tucson, Arizona and from there I caught a plane to Lubbock, Texas and my parents were at the airport to meet me. For the next few days it was just being home, relaxing and visiting with friends and relatives until it was time for me to leave for Fort Lewis Washington. I still remember the plane trip from Lubbock, to Odessa, to El Paso, to Albuquerque, to Denver, and finally on to Seattle. In Odessa an army buddy of mine joined the plane ride and in El Paso a young woman with four children got on the plane. Probably all four children were under the age of 6 or 7 at the most. The woman had her hands full with the baby so my friend and I offered to watch the two older kids. The plane stopped in Albuquerque and again in Denver where we had a couple hours layover before heading to Seattle. During the layover my buddy and I took the two older children and walked all over the Denver airport. I cannot imagine a mother of today allowing two complete strangers watch after her children, but in June of 1969 this one did.

We arrived in Seattle and took a bus to Fort Lewis near Tacoma, Washington where we checked into the receiving station at Fort Lewis. For the next three days we filled out all kinds of paper work and took all kinds of shots; sometimes many were given at the same time in both arms. And then early one morning we boarded what appeared to be a chartered commercial airliner filled with all soldiers and took off over the Pacific Ocean. We stopped in Tokyo for refueling and then on to Kimpo Air Force Base near Seoul, Korea. There we received two more shots (gamma globulin)—one in each hip cheek and then we boarded cattle-car like trucks and having to stand in the trucks were taken for at least an hour’s ride before we reached our destination of another reception station at some army base. There we were housed in Quonset huts for about two days while waiting for individual orders. Our complete unit from Arizona was now divided up and sent all over South Korea. Out of maybe 200 soldiers only Zeke and I were sent to the same place—Camp Ross, north of Seoul and not too far from the DMZ. I would spend the next fourteen months at Camp Ross working as the S-1 personnel clerk at HQS & HQS Company Support Command for the Second Infantry Division. I was assigned to a small company that consisted of the Division band, a group that worked in the motor pool, and the eight of us that worked at the Headquarters. The company commander was a Lt. William Bixby, but I worked in an office where Lt. William J. Sales was my supervisor and Colonel John J. Tominac was the commanding officer of the headquarters. Colonel Tominac had won the Congressional Medal of Honor during World War II. There were twenty one officers and eight lowly enlisted men at our headquarters. We had the Command Sergeant Major for the Division and a few E-7 and E-8 Master Sergeants at our headquarters. Many had recently served in Viet Nam.

Colonel Tominac felt that since we were the headquarters unit we should be in our offices a half hour before any of our units and stay a half hour longer than our units. That meant we went to work at 7:30 am and worked until 5:30 pm each day. Saturday we worked from 7:30 am until 12:30 pm. Eighty percent of all personnel had to remain on the compound at any given time, so only 20 percent could ever get passes to leave. Of course that meant Saturday afternoons and Sundays were really the only time for passes, with Sunday being the prime day to obtain them. Needless to say with only 20 percent being able to be gone from the compound at any given time, passes were sometimes hard to get. Nevertheless, I made many trips to Seoul. Of course on Saturdays we could walk in the neighboring villages and rice fields.

My return trip from Korea back to the US was originally scheduled to take place in late July of 1970, but working with Army Regulations I had discovered information that indicated that I could be discharged from the Army if I returned to the US with less than 150 days remaining in the military. After checking the validity of this, I requested an extension of my tour of duty in Korea for approximately 40 days meaning I would land back at Fort Lewis Washington on my 149th day. I was promptly put up for discharge. Leaving Korea on Monday, September 7, 1970 in the morning, I arrived at Fort Lewis also on Monday morning. I had seen the sun rise twice on Monday; once while leaving and once upon arrival back in the US. Actually, it was after we had refueled in Anchorage, Alaska and were on our way to Fort Lewis that I looked out the window of the plane to see the sun rise for the second time on Monday.

We were to actually land at McCord Air Force Base near Fort Lewis, but after flying low on the runway the pilot came on the speaker and told us the runway was too short to land. He then made arrangements for us to travel the short distance to Seattle and land there. However, there was only one problem. Customs had been waiting for us at McCord. So they housed us in a long hallway of the Seattle airport until customs could be bussed from McCord to check us through customs. We waited for approximately two hours before they arrived. Once through customs they put us on busses and sent us to Fort Lewis. Once there I started my processing out of the Army. It meant lots of paper work, a physical, and a lot of waiting until it was done. We were finished by approximately 7 pm on the evening of September 7, but all of our paper work had been dated September 8, so they could not let us go until midnight. At midnight they bused us to Seattle and I was officially out of the Army. I spent that night in the Seattle airport. Of course I was officially in the reserves for two more years.

I could not get a plane out until early the next morning. I had not told my parents anything about extending my tour in Korea or given them any date for my return home. So on Tuesday morning from Seattle I called them for the first time in more than a year and told them I would be coming home that day. Of course they were elated. I flew from Seattle to Denver, where I had a layover, and then on to Dallas for another layover, before arriving at home in Lubbock, Texas at about 8 pm that Tuesday night. So I had been traveling for two Mondays and all day Tuesday with very little sleep--there had been too much excitement for sleep. Needless to say I was exhausted when I got home, but there was lots of family waiting there to see me so it was about midnight when I finally got to bed.

While still in Korea I had been thinking about my return home and trying to figure out what exactly I'd like to do. I had finally decided on returning to school, so I had written to West Texas State University in Canyon, Texas for information. My cousin, Robena, had gotten her master's degree from there, so I'd thought I'd do the same. I had applied and been accepted to the university, but I arrived home too late to start for the fall semester, so I had to wait until January 1971 before I could start. I moved into a small camping trailer just a few blocks west of the campus. It was a small travel trailer and for $40 per month I could park it there. Water and electricity were included so I purchased an electric heater and hot plate to use. This would help keep my expenses down, since at the time I was only getting money from the GI Bill to go to school on. I think the amount was $225 per month. This had to pay for my living space, food, books, school tuition, and everything else. That was my only income. Eventually, I found a part-time job teaching in Amarillo at Draughn's Business College two nights per week. The pay was about $3.50 per hour for six hours of work per week. It provided a little additional income for me.

I had decided to get a teaching credential and my Master's Degree in political science at the same time. I simultaneously took classes in both areas. My teaching credential would be in business and political science. So I would spend the next two years going to school in Canyon, Texas. My last semester in school I needed additional courses to complete my full-time student status to remain eligible for the GI Bill, so I took a French class. Remember, I had started French at Monterey High School in Lubbock as a sophomore, but had to drop it when we moved. So I was able to complete one semester of college French--it being one of my favorite classes. I completed my teaching credential and all class work for my master's degree in political science by June of 1973. I still had to write my thesis to complete my master's degree, but I also needed to find a job--a teaching job.

In May of 1973 I completed my teaching credential in business education and political science. I started applying for jobs. Not having any geographical limitations I applied for jobs in Pennsylvania, Texas, and California. In early August I received a phone call from the Principal of Palo Verde High School in Blythe, California. They wanted me to come out for an interview. My mother did not want me to drive that distance alone so my brother, Tom, went with me. We arrived and I contacted the school. We set the interview to be over breakfast at a local restaurant the next morning at 8 am. I met with the district superintendent, Dr. Vernon Carter, and the high school principal, Mr. Orbie Hanks. I was hired at the end of our breakfast that day and drove back to the high school to sign the papers. Tom and I spent the rest of the day looking for an apartment for me and the next day we headed back to Lubbock, Texas.

I went back to Canyon, Texas and packed up my things. My dad and I pulled the travel trailer that had been my home for two years back to his place. A short time later I headed to Blythe for my first high school teaching job. I taught accounting 1, and accounting 2, and beginning typing. My department chair was a 50 year old lady by the name of Jennie Weber. As it would turn out Jennie and I lived very close to each other--in the same building which was about 2 miles to school. Blythe was an isolated community of about 14,000 people near the Colorado River and the border with Arizona. Every time we played a sports game the buses had to travel about 1-2 hours to get there. Along with the team bus there were other router buses with students. I chaperoned many bus-loads of students to games that year, arriving back home sometimes as late as 2 am.

At the encouraging of Dr. Carter, I joined the Optimist Club of Blythe and an off shoot of that the bicycle club. I bought a bike and every weekend we had bike rides. Often on Saturday's there would be long rides and alternating Sunday afternoon it would be a short ride. Saturdays would involve a picnic lunch and then we would make the return trip back. We might have as many as 100 people on some of the rides, ages 8 to the 60s. One or two Optimist trucks would follow to pick up the flat tires or those that just got too tired. On Saturdays we could easily travel 60 miles on one of our trips. There wasn't much traffic on some of those desert roads in those days.

Often on Friday evenings we would meet at the river for BBQing, fishing, or canoeing. Some Saturdays we would take tire inner tubes and drive up the river several miles and float down the Colorado for several hours. Also, this was a time for my first experience of learning to water ski. Dr. Carter, who joined us for many of our activities had a boat, and he taught me to water ski. Later in the school year we traveled to Snow Bowl near Flagstaff to snow ski. Dr. Carter spent half a day with me as my private tutor and then took off for the slopes. Later that year we drove to Mammoth, California for another ski trip.

As the end of the school year came to a close, at one of our gatherings, Dr. Carter told me he had accepted a new job as superintendent of the William S. Hart Union High School District in Newhall, California. He also told me that Blythe was an isolated, small desert town and that I might be interested in coming to his new district, near Los Angeles. If I were interested, I could come by his office and pick up an application. Jennie Weber was opposed to the idea. She said a new teacher should stay in one location for at least two years before thinking about going somewhere else. I liked Dr. Carter so I filled out the application and left it with him as the school year came to a close. I took a four hour drive to Newhall just to look things over. It seemed pretty nice, but I returned to Blythe, closed up my apartment for the summer and headed back to Texas.

I returned to Canyon, Texas and to the university. Remember, I still had my thesis to write for my Master's Degree. I found a room in the home of a little old lady that rented rooms to college kids. So the summer of 1974 was spent mostly in the library researching my thesis topic--The Power of the President As Commander-in-Chief, A Study in Foreign Policy Responsibility. I enjoyed the research and hated the writing.

By mid August of 1974 I had heard nothing from Dr. Carter so I thought I'd be returning to Blythe for another school year. But shortly thereafter, I received a call from Dan Hannigan, principal of Hart High School, offering me a job in their business department. I accepted the position over the telephone and was supposed to be there by the beginning of September. I wrote a resignation letter to Palo Verde High School in Blythe. Soon after, I was on the road back to California. After stopping in Blythe, and packing all of my belongings in my car, I headed to Newhall. I stopped by the district office and signed my contract and saw Dr. Carter. I didn't have a place to stay so Dr. Carter said I could stay at his place until I could find an apartment. It took me about two weeks to find a one bedroom apartment in the Californian Apartments. There were very few rental vacancies to be found. My apartment was only about 3 or 4 blocks from Hart High School.

For the next two years I taught business subjects and government at Hart High. The district was building a new high school--Saugus High School in the Saugus community. This entire area, Newhall, Saugus, Canyon Country, Valencia, and Castaic, was part of the unincorporated area of Los Angeles County. These communities were small and rural in nature, but they were growing. Saugus High School opened its doors to students in the fall of 1975, beginning only with the 9th and 10th grades. It was built on the site of an old dairy farm. In September of 1976 I transferred over to Saugus High School.

In early October 1975, I met a beautiful, young, educated lady, Patricia Louise MacKellar. Within the same week that I met her, she went into the hospital and was there for a couple of weeks. Each day I went to see her and we had lots of time to talk and found we had a lot in common. By the time she was out of the hospital we were engaged to get married. And we did get married on February 14, 1976. She worked for the California State University system in the Chancellor's office in the International Education Department. Her office at that time was on Wilshire Blvd on the Miracle Mile section near the La Brea Tar Pits. I moved into her apartment in Studio City so that our commute to work was approximately equal; with me driving back north and her driving south to work. During the summer of 1976 we purchased our home in Newhall, CA and in August she quit her job and went back to school to earn a teaching credential.

Patty returned to school at California State University, Northridge working on her credential and also opening a travel agency for international travel for students. During that year she earned a free trip to Europe for the summer of 1977 and I paid only half price for my airfare. We took off to Europe after school was out in June and came home in late August just before school started for the Fall. We traveled through France, Germany, Denmark, Sweden, and Finland where we visited many of her friends. These were friends that she had made while a student in France at the University of Aix-en- Provence, friends from international exchanges to America, and friends met through other friends. We had the experience of a life time that summer.

Patty knows the rest of my life and our two wonderful kids have lived the rest of our life. There is not much more that I can tell them about the life I have lived, simply because they lived it with me. What a wonderful life it has been!! My genealogy can be found at jenk.com on the internet and some can be found on ancestry.com if you have a subscription. I’ve tried to connect as much of the family together as I possibly could, including many photos and I hope that is my lasting legacy to my family. I love them all.

I'd like to say that it is because of my parents that I have had the success in life that I have had. They both had hard lives growing up and even had a hard life together. Neither had much education but both always insisted that I get an education. Both insisted that I study and work hard at getting an education and from the time I was a small child I knew that I would go to college. Elementary school was followed by junior high which was followed by high school and that was followed by colledge. That simply was the sequence--that was the expectation and that is what lifted me out of poverty. I've lived a very good life and have two very successful college educated children. Patty and I have traveled to about 30 different countries and have many friends from around the world. When this 2020 covid-19 pandemic crisis is over we will continue our travels. We love to spend weeks and sometimes months in a specific country to get to know the culture and the people. Fortunately, we are now in retirement and have the monetary means to do whatever we choose to do. Life is good for us!!

Of course, I believe, no one is ever a success by themselves. It takes a village and I believe that. My parents, my wife, my children, my teachers at all levels, and my friends have all contributed to my success in their own way. I feel very lucky to have come from where I started to where I am in life today. I wish that success for everyone!

In June of 2020, I got to thinking about different events that have occurred in my life, so I’m just going to try to make a quick list here of the major events.

1945 – I was born at the end of World War II

1950 – The Korean War

1963– The assassination of John F. Kennedy

1960s – The Civil Rights movement of the 1960s

1964 -- Graduation from High School - Paducah, Texas May 28

1964 – The Beginning of the Vietnam War 1964

1968 – The assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr

1968 – The assassination of Robert F. Kennedy

1969 -- Graduation from Texas Tech University with a BBA in Accounting - January

1969 -- Drafted into the US Army February 4, 1969 - Basic Training at Fort Bliss, El Paso, Texas

1969 -- AIT (Advanced Individual Training) at Fort Huachuca, (Sierra Vista) Arizona

1969 -- Landed in Korea July 2, 1969