Old Cradle

Our family was never big on regular vacations or travels, but there was one trip where we all went to Utah to visit some of Dad's family. I don't remember much of it, as I was a young tyke, but I do remember the stream we (Dad, Grandma Lynda, and I) visited that everyone referred to as the "Old Cradle." When we went, it felt like a chunk of remote nature was carved out just for us that day. I felt so carefree and filled with awe. I think it was my first time to swim in a non-pool setting.

Dad was super crafty and made me a wooden boat to float on the stream. At one point, it drifted beyond my grasp and was quickly caught up in the current (and the riffles seemed like rapids to my short self). I remember the relief I felt when Dad when downstream and retrieved it and the impression from that incident has always resonated with me. I didn't let that boat out of my sight the entire rest of the day!

My Grandma Lynda and I made a little village out of mud, rocks, and whatever else we could find. I thought it was really cool to have an adult play in the mud with me and it was a complete blast. I haven't been to Utah since, but hope to return with my family. My memories of Old Cradle inspire me to create similar magical experiences for my daughter.

Kenny Rogers Concert (By Lori)

Kenny Rogers was a singer who had been popular back when I was a little girl.  He disappeared for a while and you really didn’t hear anything from him or about him for several years.  Then, during my late teens/early twenties his career came roaring back with a string of hits like, “Lady” and “She Believes in Me”.  He was huge!  And he was coming to a town near us (Louisville, KY)!  We were living in military housing on Fort Knox (5364-G Kelly, to be exact) and Larry was serving a tour of duty in Korea.  It’s terrible (but true) to say that with Larry gone, we were free to enjoy going places and doing things – things like going to a Kenny Rogers concert!

I even had a couple of friends who went along.  Here we are, dolled up and ready to go (left-to-right:  Kim Wofford, me, Lara, and Cindy Caldera).

If this isn’t enough to amaze you, believe it or not, Dee Dee went to the concert with us (yes, there she is, standing next to Kim):

We had a great time!  We shouted, we clapped, we stood up, and generally acted unruly (but in a good way).  We stopped at White Castle, an area favorite, to have hamburgers on the way home.

I have to mention my good friend Kim, especially:

She was really my best friend and always had a kind word to encourage me, even when I had messed things up quite a bit in my life.  She had an infectious laugh and I still love talking to her today -- and laughing...a lot.  We had lost contact for a few years, but Alan was able to use Facebook to help me find her.  I really had not had any interest in Facebook before that, but after finding Kim living in an area where I would have never thought to look for her, I had to admit there might be something to it.

I was not only friends with Kim, but also with Kim’s mother, Bertha:

Not only did I see Bertha every Sunday at church, she was always available to chat whenever I needed  someone to talk to.  She also was there on a very special day in my life.  Mandy’s father chose not to be there when I was in the hospital giving birth, so our Relief Society President, Carol Seipert, went in with me for a while and was my “coach”.  Bertha knew that Dee Dee would be worried to death out in the waiting room, so she went and sat with Mom for a good part of the day and was Mom’s “coach”.  Since Mandy was born on Thanksgiving Day, I can never do justice in telling what it meant to us that these ladies would give up part of their holiday with their families to be there for us.  Unfortunately, I learned that Bertha passed away a year or two before Kim and I reconnected, but she still lives in my heart and memory.

Opal Ella Nora Higdon Ford (By Dee Dee)

This picture is of my mother, Opal Ella Nora Higdon, at age 18.  She married my dad, Paul Millard Ford, at the age of 19.

She was born on January 15^th, 1912, to Joseph and Lucy Higdon in Eastland, Texas.  She was the 5^th child of eight children born to them.

They moved by covered wagon to Wellington, Texas, at some point in her childhood.  My mother did not have much formal education (through either 6^th or 7^th grade), but she was one of the smartest women I’ve ever known.  She could write the best poems and essays.  She helped my sister with several college papers and they got A’s on them.  She helped me write a poem in high school (and Odell Lemons stood up after I read mine and said, “Chevy, you know you didn’t write that.”  It was so much better than my other writings.  I’m sure my teacher came to the same conclusion and graded me accordingly.

My mother could sew anything by just seeing a picture.  When we were teenagers, my sister and I would buy “Photoplay” and “Seventeen” magazines and she would copy the clothes from them.  She kept us very well dressed when we were teenagers.

She met my Dad at the skating rink in Wellington, Texas.  This would carry on for two more generations as I met Larry at the skating rink and Lara met Donnie at the skating rink.

My Dad was from Dodson, Texas, so when they married they moved there and spent the rest of their lives there.  There is so much more to write, and as the family story continues I will write more of her, but for now, when I’ve been asked what is my fondest memory of her, it would be that I remember her as the most gentle, kindest, sweetest, and smartest of all women.  In fact, I think of her as a saint (which she was called that by someone), and as the story unfolds it will show that she really was.

She never spanked us, and the only bad scolding I remember getting was when my sister, the neighbor kids, and I were making fun of another neighbor kid.  She sat us down and chewed us out royally.  She never made fun of anyone and always tried to find the best in everyone.  I remember a new girl moved into town.  Truthfully, she was very ugly.  She couldn’t help it, and I did feel sorry for her.  I told Mama that a real ugly girl had moved in.  Later, when my Mama saw her, she said, “She is not so ugly.  She has beautiful eyes and real pretty hair.”  That was my Mama – always finding the good and pretty in the bad and the ugly.

She died on July 15^th, 1971, at the age of 59.  Oh, how I loved her and still miss her!