Maternal Grandparents – Joseph Henry Higdon and Lucy Crossland Higdon - By Dee Dee

These next sections will be on what I know about my grandparents – how they met and what I know about them.  It is rather sketchy, but I will do what I can to bring their lives and stories in.

My mother’s parents were Joseph Henry and Lucy (Crossland) Higdon.  They lived in Louisiana.  I know less about my grandfather’s young life than I know about my grandmother’s.  I do know that Joseph had at least one brother.  I don’t know his parents’ or brother’s names.  I do know that at one point his mother was widowed and married a man named “Moore”.  Grandpa was a big old Irish man with show-white curly hair and the most twinkling brown eyes I have ever seen.  He was as easy-going as they come.  He walked with a limp from a black-smithing injury.

Joseph Henry Higdon and Lucy Crossland Higdon, date unknown.  The marking on the back of the photograph says, "Wellington, Texas":

My grandmother was Lucy Crossland Higdon.  Her parents were George Edward Crossland and Susan A. Howard Crossland.  They had 12 or 13 children, some dying in infancy.  Grandma’s mother and daddy both died when she was a young girl, and the family was broken up, with the various children being sent to different homes.

George Edward Crossland and Susan Howard Crossland, year unknown.  I don’t know who the child is (perhaps Ben or Hiram Lemuel Crossland?):

Grandma went to live with a woman named “McQuire” that ran a millenary shop making hats and all kinds of accessories.

Grandma and Grandpa met at a fair.  I don’t know if it was a local, county, or state fair, but I know that when Grandpa saw her, he went over immediately and told Grandma, “I’m marrying you some day.”

When they married, I guess Mrs. McQuire made her a good wedding, because they always talked about how many yards of lace were in her dress and that she carried orange blossoms as a bouquet.

Their children were:  (1) Georgia Virginia, (2) “Bill” – it was a nickname; he hated his name so he went by “Bill” and that’s all I know; (3) “Bud” – also a nickname; same circumstances as Bill; I do know that one of their real names was Lemuel Hiram; (4) Ione (nicknamed “Nōne” – pronounced the same as “known”); (5) Opal Ella Nora (my mother); (6) Rufus; (7) Margaret; and (8) Joseph, Jr.

I don’t know when they left Louisiana, but I do know my mother was born in Eastland, Texas, on 15 January 1912.  From Eastland they moved by covered wagon to Wellington, Texas and spent their lives there.

My Grandpa was a unique man.  He was a black-smith by trade, but also played the violin and gave music lessons.  He also made violins and they were beautiful.  I remember that as kids we loved going into his little shed and dabbling in the varnish and messing with his resin.  He’d run us out, but with good humor.

My grandma was a thin woman of medium height.  She was, in all honesty, so sharp-tongued and cold.  She never showed affection to any of Mama’s kids.  We would ride the train from Dodson to Wellington to see them, and we usually came back the same day.  But my sister would go with my aunt and spend the night.  Once my sister’s legs were hurting really badly and she was crying.  Grandma told her, “Young lady, shut up!  You just want to go home.”

Grandma raised gardens and did canning, and she would butcher and prepare hogs.  She was the most wonderful cook I’ve known.

I know that she must have had a very rough life that contributed to her coldness and sharpness, but the one thing I have never understood is the unevenness of it.  She was meaner to my little mother than everyone else combined.  I can’t wrap my mind around why.  Mother was the sweetest, most gentle and meek of the whole bunch, but Grandma always picked her out to be mean to.  Grandpa wasn’t, and when Mama and Daddy married, Grandpa said to Grandma, “Luce, get Opal’s quilt out for her.”  Grandma had made quilts for all of the kids as they married, but wasn’t going to give Mama one.  There are other things to say, but at least you get the idea.  By today’s standard, the things she did would be child abuse.

As I said at the beginning, Mama was gentle and had been called a saint.  Mama loved her kids and grandkids so much.  She was semi-invalid for years, but she was sit and crochet and sew Barbie clothes for all of the grand-daughters.  All the grandkids loved going to “Ma’s” house (that’s what they called her).  They knew they would have Dr. Pepper to drink and Milky Way candy bars to eat.  She was always glad to see them all.

Now this part is the most painful, but also the most comforting thing I can think of.  My Mama died in my arms, with my Aunt None there.  To this point in my life, it has been the most hurtful thing I could go through.  I only pray to never lose a child or grandchild.  As for the part of her being a saint, I saw it with my own eyes.  As she died, a bright, beautiful halo light lit up all around her face. 

I didn’t say anything for a few days, and then I finally said to Aunt None, “When Mama died, did you see anything?”

She went pale and said, “Well, yes, there was a light around her head.”

Then Aunt None went on to say that Mama was the most saint-like person she had ever known.  This is the only thing that got me through this time.  The years and pain rolled away from her face.  Oh!  Mama, I love you so!

Note from Lori:  I was lucky enough to receive quite a treasure trove of Barbie clothes when I was a kid, and I spent hours and hours playing with my Barbies and my “House of Opal” fashions.  Ever the sentimental pack rat, even as a child, I still have them.

Here is my old Barbie case, packed with clothes:

Here are just a few of some of my favorite outfits made by my beloved “Ma”:

I also have been starting on some geneology, and here is the information that I have so far – please use this as a starting point only and since I am prone to error at times, by all means feel free to verify:

Joseph Henry Higdon, born 28 January 1879 in Louisiana; died 26 May 1956 in Collingsworth County, Texas; buried in Dodson, Texas.

Lucy Crossland Higdon, born about 24 March 1877 in Claiborne Parish, Lousiana; died 23 September 1957 In Wellington, Collingsworth, Texas.  Buried in Dodson, Texas.

Children:

Georgia Virginia Higdon, born 12 June 1902 in Arcadia, Bienville, Louisiana; Married 15 December 1929 to Glen Orville Ford in Hollis, Harmon, Oklahoma; died 16 October 1983 in Odessa, Ector, Texas.  (Also married to A.B. Cooper).

Gordia H. Higdon, born 1904; died 1984.

Lemuel Hiram Higdon, born 1906; died 1978.

Eula Ione Higdon, born 14 July 1909 in Pioneer, Eastland, Texas;  Married 30 June 1937 to Henry Merle Dunn in Oklahoma City,  Oklahoma; died 24 March 2003 in Midland, Texas.

Opal Ella Nora Higdon, born 15 January 1912 in Eastland, Texas; Married 21 November 1931 to Paul Millard Ford; died 15 July 1971, in Dodson, Collingsworth, Texas.

Rufus Lamar Higdon, born 1915; died 1997.

Joe Higdon, born 1918; died 1984.

Margaret Louise Higdon Payne, born 1922; died 1999.

Family Fudge Recipes (by Dee Dee)

When I was a little girl and we lived in the old house, one of the better memories of that time was winter time, when my mother made homemade fudge and popped popcorn.  We always seemed to have a friend of one of us kids over and Mama would always make a big batch of fudge (the recipe she used is in this posting).  She would pop a dishpan full of popped corn and we would eat ourselves silly.  It sure was good.  I did not have her fudge recipe.  I did know what ingredients were in it, but didn’t know the amounts.  But thanks to the internet I found the recipe.

As I mentioned above we lived in the old house.  We were very, very poor when I was little and to this day I don’t know how my Mama and Daddy managed to keep us fed and the old tin roof over our heads, but they did.  The house was four rooms and little storage room.  Mama, Daddy, five kids, and Daddy’s mother (Grandma Ollie) all lived there.

We had no bathroom and no running water in the house; therefore, we had an old wooden out-house for doing our business and a big tin bath tub that Mama would heat the water for our baths.  Needless to say, we didn’t get a bath every day – at least once a week and sometimes twice a week.

The kitchen was so cold in the winter that Mama wouldn’t let us eat in there.  She would cook it and serve it in the living room.  We didn’t have an electric refrigerator, but we had a big wooden ice box.  It had one big door and shelves on one side and two smaller doors on the other side.  We had big blocks of ice that would go in the top of the side with two doors.  It kept the milk and everything cold.  I remember it even was cold enough to make jello.

The only thing good about that house was the tin roof and how good the rain sounded hitting it.  The tin roof reminds me of a funny story.  My Daddy and younger brother, Ronny, were putting a new tin roof on.  My older brother, Buddy, was sleeping and it was about noon time.  Buddy yelled, “Quit making that noise!  I’m trying to sleep!”

Daddy came off the roof in a flash.  He let out a string of curse words that would put any sailor to shame and told Buddy to get out of that bed and help them.  I have to admit I took the cursing like a sailor after my Daddy.  I can let loose with some pretty choice words.  I’ve done better through the years, but I still sometimes let loose.

Ma’s Fudge Recipe

Ingredients

3 cups sugar

2/3 cup cocoa powder, unsweetened

1/8 tsp. salt

1-1/2 cup milk

¼ cup butter, melted

1 tsp. vanilla extract

Directions

Line an 8 or 9-inch square pan with foil; butter the foil.

In a large heavy sauce pan, stir in the sugar, cocoa powder, and salt.  Mix well.  Gently stir in milk with large wooden spoon.

Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until mixture comes to full rolling boil.

Boil without stirring to 234° F on candy thermometer.  The bulb of the candy thermometer should not rest on the bottom of the pan. (Should take about 20-30 minutes.)

Remove from heat, add butter and vanilla.  Do not stir.

Cool at room temperature to 110° or lukewarm. Do not stir.  (Takes approximately 2 hours or more.)

Beat fudge with a wooden spoon or until it thickens and loosens some of its gloss (15-20 minutes – it will look more like frosting instead of syrup when it is ready).  Quickly spread onto prepared pan; cool.

Cut into squares using a warm knife that has been dipped in hot water and dried off.

Wrap loosely in foil and place in refrigerator.

Dee Dee’s Fudge Recipe

Ingredients

3 cups sugar

¾ cup margarine

2/3 cup evaporated milk

1 12-oz package semi-sweet chocolate chips

1 7-oz jar Kraft Marshmallow crème

1 cup chopped nuts

4 teaspoons vanilla extract

Directions

Combine sugar, margarine, and milk in heavy 2-1/2 quart saucepan; bring to full rolling boil, stirring constantly.  Continue boiling 5 minutes over medium heat, stirring.  Remove from heat, stir in chocolate until melted.  Add marshmallow crème, nuts, and vanilla; beat until blended.  Pour into greased 13 x 9-inch baking pan.  Let cool and cut into 1-inch squares.

Addition by Lori:  My whole family loves Dee Dee’s fudge, especially Mandy.  Christmas is made even more special by the fact that we know that Dee Dee will be making big batches of fudge for everyone.  I had to laugh when Mandy informed me several years ago that if I wanted to make sure that she came for Christmas every year I would have to learn to make Dee Dee’s fudge!

Dee Dee Adds:  I have made fudge for the whole family at Christmas for over 30 years now.  Last Christmas (2011) was the first time ever that I was not able to make fudge (I was suffering from pneumonia).  Next year I plan to make doubles -- I guess that's the optimist in me!

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!