December, 1967

I wrote this article in 1996 for the Scriptoria, our school newspaper at Hanks High School.  I just discovered it tucked away and though you might enjoy reading it.  I worked as a school counselor at HHS until my retirement in 2002.

     In December, 1967, I was with the U.S. Army in Bangkok, Thailand.  During that time period several things happened that made our Christmas both memorable and bittersweet.  It literally brought all the elements together that make this holiday special.  
     We had arrived in Bangkok three months earlier.  My wife, Diane, was pregnant with our first child.  Soon after we arrived the Thai government put a freeze on all incoming U.S. household goods.  We had brought with us on the plane only the bare necessities and when we discovered we would not be getting our household shipment we had to scrounge on the economy to pull our home together.  We were thousands of miles away from home, alone, pregnant and very unsettled.  In November, Diane was rushed to the hospital where our first child was born dead.  We cried, hugged one another, and wondered how we would ever survive Christmas in our bare apartment.  In was the lowest of times.
     During the brief time we had been there we had become friends two people in our apartment.  John was from New York state and Katie from Wisconsin.  They were both single and lonely as well.  We decided we would share Thanksgiving and Christmas bringing together all our traditions.  We even managed to get three friends from Viet Nam to get their R & R at Thanksgiving so they could celebrate with us.  
     During December it was my duty assignment to help co-ordinate the Bob Hope Christmas tour in Southeast Asia.  Diane traveled with them as an assistant in wardrobe and I made arrangements with the various bases and posts for their arrival.  It was a hectic time.  The Christmas season began to blur together.  
     Our housekeeper, Yupin, had a three year old daughter named Mam.  We decided we needed a child to concentrate on for Christmas and Mam was the logical choice.  Santa went to work preparing a wonderful holiday for her.
     We stayed very busy.  Diane was flying all over Thailand with the show and I was in constant turmoil trying to keep track of all the shows and the stars.  Diane's parents managed to get us a very tiny artificial  tree and a few decorations.  We were determined to make this Christmas special.  
     The day arrived.  We were exhausted, but arose that morning to check if Santa had arrived.  Sure enough, he had found us even there!  Mam walked in with her mom and the light that beamed from her face outshone even the Christmas lights on the tree.  Our friends came up and we went into an orgy of remembrance of Christmas Past.  We decided this one was the best.  We had seen the joy of a child, the looks of sweet sadness on the troop's faces as the Hope stars sang "Silent Night," the terribly wounded soldiers in the hospital beds lighting up as Raquel Welch approached them, and our two new best friends sharing this holiday with us in our bare apartment.  
     We had given this Christmas.  We had lost a child, but had gained an insight into the true meaning of the season.  It's not about isolation or receiving gifts, it's about sharing, loving, and crying together.
     We stayed in Thailand for two years.  We worked with the Hope show another Christmas and gained some satisfaction.  Seven weeks before we came home our first daughter, Melissa, was born.  She was our gift along with her younger sister, Pamela, who was born here in El Paso, who are our great joy to this day.  

Paducah Old Settlers' Speech

The Song of Paducah

Writer, Pascal Mercier, wrote:

“We leave something of ourselves behind when we leave a place, we stay there, even when we go away.  And there are things in us that we can find again only by going back there.”

All of us have been asked about our hometown at some point.  People are naturally interested in the point of origin of those they meet.  It is a great conversation starter and has been utilized for years.  Those of us from Paducah are commonly asked if we are from Kentucky.  Most of us have developed a response to these queries.  We patiently explain that our Paducah is actually in Texas and try to give a general idea as to where it is located.  My go to response is usually, “If you were driving from Lubbock to Wichita Falls, it would be right in the middle.”  For those who have no knowledge of Texas geography there is no point of reference.  When faced with that situation I simply state that Paducah is a small farming and ranching community at the base of the panhandle of Texas and it is there that a large part of my heart resides.  If that goes over their heads, I just smile and use the old Southern phrase, “Well, bless your heart, I just can’t any more specific.”   

“Where are you from?”

“I’m from Paducah, Texas.”

I’m from Paducah, Texas.  Those are the words that hang in the air, but that statement creates in my mind thousands of images, strong emotions and thoughts that cannot be channeled into mere words.  It is a state of mind.  Someone far wiser than me said that in order to understand our present and plan our future we must remember our past.  With that thought in mind allow me to take you on a sentimental journey through our shared past that played a large part in creating who we are today.  When Janice Black Cranford invited me to do this speech she mentioned that it is rather scary to realize that WE are the old settlers now.  I laughed to myself and thanked God that we have lived long enough to become an old settler. 

I think it is appropriate at this point to start at the beginning.  In order to research this I turned to Carmen Bennett’s book, Our Roots Grow Deep.  Mrs. Bennett spent years researching the history of our county and spent countless hours doing interviews with the old timers and poring over every copy of the Paducah Post since its inception.  It was a massive undertaking and was published in 1970. Mrs. Bennett’s narration begins before the concept of Paducah began.  In her preface she wrote the following.

“Ours is not altogether a pretty story and if you find it offensive to review the fact that liquor, gun-play, maverick branding, and lawlessness in general were a part of the early west, then you will not enjoy this history, for it is all here in stark reality.  I think at a time when crime is played up so prominently in the news of the day, that youth of today and of the coming generations should know that there was good, but also bad in their past.”

The 1800’s of the west, and especially Texas, were full of rough times and produced rugged individuals.  As this area was settled settlers poured in from all over the United States.  Other than our Native American brethren, we were all immigrants in a sense.  Many came from earlier settled East Texas, but others arrived from the South and Midwest.  Many of us can recount our ancestors coming from states across the nation.  To carry the name of “native son” was rare indeed.

Imagine, if you will, this area filled with vast grasslands and herds of antelope and buffalo.  The Native Americans were in the area drawn here by the natural springs found in the area and the game available.  Most of you have visited the “roaring” springs and, I would wager, many of you learned to swim in this pool of the coldest water I have ever experienced!  We are all familiar with the story of Cynthia Anne Parker, the mother of Quanah Parker, and evidence of their presence at these springs are still evident.

After the battle of Washita River the Indian tribes were decimated and pushed back out of the area.   The area where they lived later became known as Tee Pee City, which was located west of here in Motely County.  In 1875 a couple of traders established a trading post there and were part of the trading route that was moving supplies down to Stonewall County from Kansas.  The first known settlement in what was to become Cottle County was called Otta.  It was actually not a settlement, but rather a mail stop named for the wife of Mr. Prewitt who ran it.  Her name was Otta, in deference to her Ottawa Indian ancestry.  This was part of the famed Butterfield Trail and the route was referred to as the Buffalo Road.  Otta, or Otta Springs, was due southeast of where Paducah is now located.  This is in what we refer to as Hackberry and is considered the first settlement in Cottle County.  It was located on the farm later owned by Forest Creamer.  It was there that Louis C. Abbott was born on October 21, 1884.  He is considered the first white child born in Cottle County.  His father, John L. Abbott, was the first white man to die and be buried in Cottle County.  He was killed in an ambush by Bill Trumble.  That is a story in itself!

There are many stories of Cottle County in the book.  It was a wild and raucous time and chock full of intrigue, drama and history.  Let me give you one such example as to the origins of our county.  As usual, I am sure it was embroidered somewhat, but isn’t that what makes an interesting story?

Two families rise to the top when one speaks of this period of time.  One family is the Richards family, beginning with two brothers W.Q. (Bill) and T.J. (Tom).  Bill came first claiming land just south of where we are now which expanded into large holdings.  Tom had large cattle holdings and lived in Clarendon.  In 1898 he moved to what was to become Cottle County bringing his herds.  Another set of brothers also became increasingly more important in this area.  Jim McAdams and his brother, Sam, came from Gainesville and their holdings were in the southern part of the area near to what was then King County. The McAdams brothers had a sister who was married to Jim Easley.  Jim and his wife died very closely to one another and the brothers took in the three orphaned Easley children.  The youngest child was Uncle “Pop” Easley who took care of the Paducah rodeo and football grounds for years. 

Jim and Sam were working cattle on a hot July day in 1889 in the southern part of the area.  Evidently they got into an argument during the roundup.  Sam was cutting out some of the Easley cattle that the kids had inherited for eventual sale and Jim, for some unknown reason, did not want him to do this.  After Sam had already cut out one yearling Jim warned him to desist.  Word has it that Jim said, “Sam, if you cut out another one of those God damned Easley cattle, I am going to kill you!”  When Sam waded into the herd with the obvious intent of doing just that, Jim, being a man of his word, drew his gun and shot him! 

The wounded Sam was taken to Cooke County where he later died.  Jim was first tried in Cooke County and the trial ended with a hung jury.  He was tried again in Seymour and received a penitentiary sentence.  He appealed the sentence and awaited a new trial in the newly formed King County.  He became concerned that he was not going to receive a fair trial.  It is at that point the story takes on a life of its’ own.

Jim approached his ranching buddies, to include W.Q. Richards, Lal and G. Backus, Joe Gober and Childress judge, A.J. Fires to organize the area and create a new county.  It is recounted that they did not have enough names of legal residents for the petition for countyhood, so they included the names of the Moon saddle horses to the petition.

At a called session of the Childress commisioners’ court a vote was called on November 1891.  It passed and the rest is history.

Now remember the McAdams episode.  Jim McAdams filed for a change of venue and got it.  Temple Houston, seventh son of General Sam Houston, was his defense attorney who was described as “eccentric in dress, an excellent speaker and a brilliant trial attorney.”  The trial was held, McAdams was cleared and the matter put aside.  When we despair of the political machinations in play today, rest easy in the fact that this is certainly not happening only in this time.  Don’t you love it!

On January 11, 1892, Cottle County began named for an Alamo fighter.  The county seat site was filed on by a Mr. Potts on land that was later owned by Lloyd Mays.  Mr. Potts, from Kentucky, along with Mr. Avant, also from Kentucky, gave the name of Paducah for the young county seat based on the city in Kentucky.  The first officials were full of names that still resonate in our county.  We find the names Gober and Brothers.  Other names that are familiar consist of Dumont, Backus, Liedtke and Robertson.  Building started and I found it interesting that there was even a toll bridge built over the Pease River!  Twenty-five cents could guarantee you safe passage.  

The first courthouse was built and occupied in 1894.  It was not only used for county business, but churches used it as well.  A dam was built north of the courthouse in the draw found there.  The lake formed there served not only as the town’s water supply, as well as a swimming hole and baptismal area.  I am sure many souls were saved in the depression we called “skunk holler” east of town!  It is interesting to note here that the first organized church on record is the Methodist Church in 1892.  It was written that during a big revival some young rascals sneaked out of the services and switched all the babies sleeping in the wagons.  That caused consternation among the parents as they worked to sort out their own infants. 

Cottle County up to this point had been primarily ranching country.   The first cotton grown on record was at Buck Creek in 1896 and the first gin erected in 1898.  From that point forward cotton farming eventually became as prevalent as ranching. 

As we celebrate this “Old Settlers’ Reunion” I feel that it is interesting to talk about an earlier celebration.  Late in July of 1903, Bill Richards, the owner of the vast 3D ranch, sent out the word that there would be a big party and dance on the land he owned about 18 miles southeast of Paducah in the 35 or 40 acres of the old Moon Pasture.  Invitations were sent to all the ranches in the section and to cowmen and their families living in Childress, Quanah, Matador and Paducah. 

The closest rail point at the time was 55 miles away in Quanah and Mr. Richards hauled in material for a dance platform, large enough to handle 4 sets of square dancers at a time.  They also hauled out twelve hundred loaves of bread, two barrels of pickles, fifteen bushels of onions, and a baby grand piano!  Mr. Richards had his hands butcher twenty head of prime two year old heifers and turned them over to Ben Johnson, a famous freighter and barbeque artist. 

It was scheduled to begin on Friday at noon and close Saturday at midnight.  However, it turned out to be a three day affair.  People on horseback and by hacks and wagons began to arrive and one could tell who was represented by the many brands on the horses.  The meal began that evening with the food furnished by the host and whatever the travelers had brought with them.  This might rightly be called the first “pot luck” in the county! 

After dinner was consumed the dance commenced and it must have been quite a sight.  The pianist was Jimmie Jones who was well known as a famous player in his hotel in Quanah.  Cap Bird and Bill Gowens handled the fiddlers and there were three well known square dance callers.  They danced until midnight Saturday night with only a three hour break to “let the piano cool off!”

While the “youngin’s” danced the old timers, the “Seventy-Niners,” sat around and talked.  There were more than 50 of them and they spoke of the old days when the first cattle were brought in.  There were many names represented here that were so important in our part of Texas.  Ben Easley, Jim McAdams, the Masterson brothers and Bud Arnett were among the ones there. 

Let me quote from Carmen Bennet’s book as to this affair.  She caught the flavor of the time perfectly.

“About four hundred people attended the affair, all coming in hacks or on horseback, as there were no automobiles in those days.  At no time during the affair was liquor in any form in evidence, and no sign of a brawl marred the gathering.  The writer does not believe that there has ever been a finer gathering  of bowlegged men in West Texas than this group.”

The 20^th Century brought rapid change to this young fledgling county and town.  As I read through the articles listed in Carmen Bennet’s book I was struck by the fact this was the beginning of massive change not only happening here, but in the country as a whole.  Vistas were opening up because of the advent of better transportation and communication and families who had been living in isolation suddenly found neighbors next door and news was traveling faster.  What an exciting time this must have been!  I want to try to give you highlights of this period of time in order to illustrate these decades.  They will not all be related to one another and I will try to give you a broad and fast moving picture of the time.  Imagine a silent movie and travel along with me for the first 40 years of this our fair county and community.  OK?  Cue the piano player!  Roll cameras!

HEADLINE!  First saloon opens on south side of square!  Whiskey by the barrel!  Prohibition comes!  Closed 1904! 

Not only was it the first saloon…it was the last.  I am sure the good ladies of the Methodist church made sure of this!

ALERT!  1907:  1^st automobile spotted in town!  Horses bolt!  Old timers say it will never catch on!

Cotton is selling for 41 cents a pound!

Baptist Church builds building!

1909:  FIRST TRAIN PULLS INTO TOWN!  Engine scares Mrs. Dumont’s buggy horse causing buggy to overturn breaking Mrs. Dumont’s leg!

1910:  D.A. Goodwin donates land for a new brick school.

1913:  Electricity comes to town!

Lobo wolves spotted in Matador!

Opera House built on south side of square!

1915:  County School enrollment given.  1,417 white children, 4 Mexicans, 20 Negroes. 

1915:  Cider joints closed!  (I suspect the Baptist ladies, along with the Methodist ladies might have had a hand in that!)

1915:  Zana Theatre built by Jim McAdams and named for his daughter, Zana.  Leased to W.V. Bigham.

1915:  Quanah Parker’s grave robbed!

1918:  NEW STORE IN TOWN!  Hall Scruggs store opens.  (It originally was located where Love’s Jewelry was located, but then moved to present location.)

1918:  Airplane lands in town.  Public invited to visit, but advised not to touch.

1918: Spanish Flu epidemic.

1922:  W.Q. Richards bequeaths $50,000 to town for new hospital.

1923:  C.B. Berry shot J. B. Sneed.  Two months later J.B. Sneed shot C. B. Berry.  Both survived.

SCANDLE!  Lipstick comes into common use!

1925:  Lion’s Club formed. 

Post editor laments the fact that the square streets and sidewalks are entirely too crowded on Saturdays! 

1926:  New doctor by the name of Pate arrives in town!

1927:  Paducah gets Highway #83.

1928:  Cee Vee School opens

1929:  North and South highway to connect Canada with Gulf of Mexico!

Norris Funeral Home and Cottle Hotel built.

Chinese yo-yo fad sweeps city!

1930:  W.Q. Richards Memorial Hospital officially opened.

Vote held to name elementary school “Alamo” and grammar school “Goodwin” after D.A. Goodwin who donated the land.

East side of court house lawn planted in turnips, rape and spinach.  There was a bountiful harvest.

1931:  Phlox named as Paducah’s official flower.

1934:  Many Paducah boys off to CCC camps.

Deep canyon in Cee Vee spanned by bridge.

1933:  Beer legalized in Paducah.

Wilson and Wilson open town ice company.

Entire west side of square paved.

1935:  “Uncle Charlie” passes away and is first Negro to be buried in Paducah cemetery.

White Parker, son of Quanah Parker, preaches at First Methodist Church.

New school building built at Chalk.

Football field lighted.  1^st game under lights September 19.

1936:  City swimming pool built.

1938:  Traffic light installed on West highway.

1940:  County population down to 7,080, a decrease of 2,315 from 1930.

1941:  12^th grade added to Paducah High School system

Vernon Matney dies in attack on Pearl Harbor.

1942:  School buses not allowed to transport students to after school activities due to tire rationing.

Allen Dwayne Goodwin fell from the city water tower.

1943:  Law passed that all brands be re-registered.

1944:  Citizens of Paducah awakened at 3:25 in the morning for D-Day prayers.

1945:  Alton Farr hired as school superintendent.

Cottle county farmers on a decrease.

Polio outbreak.

1946:  Dr. Harmon moves to Paducah.

Price Sandlin named as fire chief.

1947:  Construction begins on Veteran’s Building.

Richards Memorial Hospital becomes county property.

Dr. Thomas Smith moves to Paducah.

1948:  Serious outbreak of polio creates fear across the county.

1949:  Good crop year.

Census shows city population 3,000.  This is 1,000 less than ten years ago.

1950:  Personal headline:  Neal Parks family moves to Cottle County.  It has been reported that Roy Neal Parks, son of Conditt and Cora Cowart Parks, has bought a small farm from J.T. Martin which is located on the Quanah highway about 7 miles east of town.  It is located on the site of the old Broadmore School.  He is joined by his wife, Nita, of White Deer, Texas, along with his son, Ronnie Neal and daughter, Kay Ellen.  Welcome home Roy Neal.

I would like to stop the movie projector at this point and silence the piano player.  It is here where my own memories begin and I am going to attempt to illustrate the next two decades from my own experiences.  Hopefully, those of you “old settlers” in my age group will recognize and come along with me on this mental ride.  It is going to be haphazard and bumpy, so strap in and hold on.

Prior to our move to Paducah we had always lived in a town with neighbors just next door.  We lived in company housing in Skellytown, Texas, while Dad worked for Skelly Oil.  We were living in Vernon where my baby sis, Katy, was born on my 6^th birthday.  While there Dad ran a motel/filling station and we lived on the premises.  I was always around people.  Many of the rodeo performers stayed there during the Santa Rosa Roundup and I have great memories of going to the midway with the barrel racing girls!  From there we moved to Decatur and Dad worked for Consolidated Aircraft in Fort Worth.  Again, we lived in town and I could walk to school as it was just across the street from our house. 

Dad got restless.  Having been raised in Cottle County he was more used to being his own boss and not being beholden to a set schedule.  His dad, my grandfather Conditt Parks, told him of a small farm for sale here in the county and off we went again.

For a seven year old this was a radical change.  I delighted in the freedom and ability to roam through the pastures and fields.  However, I would often become very lonely because I was used to having other kids around.  I used to pray that Clyde and Hettie Bea Floyd would show up with my buddy, Jerry, so we could fight a few wars and play Tarzan in the trees! 

I had never been on a school bus and that was a scary proposition.  I always was afraid that I would get on the wrong bus and be lost forever.  On my first trip those rascally Buckley boys teased me and told me I was on the wrong bus.  I cried, naturally, but this beautiful young blonde haired girl just a year younger than I comforted me and assured me that I was OK.  Joyce Wilson has been one of my best friends for over 65 years.

Everyone went to town on Saturday.  It was the meeting place where people could catch up on the latest gossip, visit, shop and just hang out.  Getting a parking spot on the square was a big deal.  The hierarchy was obvious.  There were those who sat in their cars and everyone came by to visit them.  There were those who walked around the square, stopping to visit.  We kids ran rampant.  We visited the stores finding treasures and warting our folks to buy us various items.  I discovered comic books and devoured them.  We watched for the latest Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew, Bobbsey Twins books to come out and we all shared them with each other. 

Going to the movie was a must.  We adored the westerns, the jungle movies and adventure films.  There was always a serial as well.  We talked each week trying to figure out how the hero was going to get out of the mess that was the cliffhanger!  It cost 9 cents for admission and went up to 35 cents after you turned 12.  We were certain that Mrs. Willingham knew all our birthdays and knew when to hike the price!  Ollie Sandlin ran the concession stand and warned all of us if there was a possibility of a storm coming up during the film!  My Grandfather Parks loved the movies.  While he was alive we went together and always stopped at Moses first to buy candy corn to eat during the movie.  I still love candy corn.  Granny Parks never went with us because I think she suspected that it MIGHT be sinful to go to the movies.  I remember several years later, after Grandpa was long gone, that “The Ten Commandments” was released.  They had several showings and it played at the old Zana Theatre.  I had seen it and convinced my devout church of Christ grandmother that she should see this film.  I was a nervous wreck during the film.  She sat very still, purse in her lap, lips pursed and never took her eyes off the screen.  After it was over I nervously asked how she liked it.  She thought carefully and said, “It was pretty good.  They made some mistakes and the Book was better.”  High praise indeed from Granny.

Frieda Brooks has done a great deal of research in compiling what businesses were here during the 50’s and 60’s.  We all remember that there were 3 drug stores.  Isbell’s Drug sat on the corner of the south side of the square and there was also Bighams and Coleman’s Paducah Drug.  For a time we had The Fair, J.C. Penney’s and Hall Scruggs.  Booth’s Ben Franklin and M.E. Moses were the two Five and Dime stores.  Remember the bakery run by George H. Moore and his dad?  The doctor and dentist offices were scattered along as well.  I well remember Dr. Payne, the dentist.  I always thought his last name was very appropriate!  There were three barbershops.  Buddy Overstreet and Albert Holler had one of them and then there was Elmer Petty and Albert Axe’s shop.  G.F. Givens had another shop just off the square.  Men sat in there not just for a haircut, but to visit.  I can still smell the hair oil and remember the combs in the glass containers.  Nothing tasted better than a Baldy Green, Fats Smith or Kate Bunch hamburger.   The Boleys had the florist shop where we all got our corsages and funeral flowers.  Let’s not forget Norris Furniture where Mr. Norris would sell us our furniture and, later on, sell us the piece of furniture in which we would spend eternity.  He sold cribs to coffins…truly a womb to tomb business.  We all put on our Sunday clothes for a family picture taken by Mr. Parker and he documented much of Paducah history. 

There were at least 9 grocery stores at one time or another and 6 filling stations!  Throughout town we would find blacksmiths, welders, saddle makers, automobile dealerships and other merchants.  Paducah was a happening place!

The big story of the 50’s was the crippling drought.  It stopped raining and crops were failing.  Cattle were starving because the pastures were dying.  It was a hard time.  Onnie Owens drilled the first irrigation well in the county, but few farmers could afford to accomplish this.  There were also portions of the county where there was no water to be found.  The number of farms in the county continued to dwindle.  At the end of the 50’s the number of farmers in the county had dropped to 387.

I recall very well the famous black dust storm that hit Paducah on April 7, 1956.  Day turned to night and many panicked.  I also remember the famous flood in 1957 during which some parts of the county received as high as 15 inches.  The gin at Sneedville washed away and there were lakes that appeared in very unlikely places. 

As a kid growing up here we lived in a bubble.  We knew that there was an altercation occurring in far off Korea, but it didn’t directly affect us.  The civil rights movement was raging across the country and the desegregation issue was prominent during this time.  But, again, we were insulated against that. 

We all remember the terrible car/train crash that killed Billy Ted Tomison, Jerry Hamilton and his sister Neva.  We mourned the loss of Mike Henry and Wylie Jones.  There was life and death all around us, but we continued in our Paducah universe dreaming our dreams and planning our future. 

In the 60’s our story continues.  Population continues to dwindle, businesses continue to close and the outside world began to move into our universe.  My age group began to awake, realize that there was a world out there and turn our eye in that direction.  Personally, Dad became county judge after Judge Payne resigned and recommended him for the job.  Mom took over the duties as ex-oficio county superintendent as that job became defunct.  All those wonderful country schools had closed.  It was the closing of another era. 

In 1966 total integration was accomplished in the Paducah schools with no fanfare and life moved on.  We began to hear about a little country called Viet Nam.  The assassination of President Kennedy sobered us.  Many of us had left Paducah for college or jobs in the larger cities.  Small family farms became fewer.  The population continued to drop and the face of Paducah began to change.

I am so grateful to those who help us to remember our history.  Thank God for Carmen Bennet who chronicled it so well.  Thank God for people like Mozelle Killingsworth whose tireless work at the cemetery helps us remember.  Thank God for others who still carry that torch forward.  Rita Isbell and her work in recognizing the old businesses and her work identifying all our country schools.  Freida Brooks is a fount of knowledge and she with Janice Black Cranford have worked so hard to keep this weekend alive.  Sammie Thompson has kept the museum going and Carl Holloway has done so much with Pioneer Days and the old City Jail.  I encourage all of you to visit the museum this weekend along with the jail.  I would also encourage you to go out and visit the Garden of Memories and perhaps stop by the funeral home to donate to the upkeep of this sacred place. 

So, here we are.  We are all “old settlers” regardless of our ages because we share one common emotion.  That emotion is a love and allegiance to this place.  We are all bound together in that web and no matter where we find ourselves there is a piece of this county with us.

A song writer once wrote, “Don’t be singing me no sad songs.”  That is certainly not what I want to leave with you this morning.  Our songs are of joy, memory, love and being a part of this our little part of Texas.  We sing of corn candy and movie serials!  We sing of tent revivals, covered dish dinners on the grounds, births, soaping the square windows on Hallowe’en, climbing the water tower to write our class logo, courting out at Richards bridge, doing the bunny hop in the Delwin gym, eating our very first corny dog at Ada Cowart’s Dixie Dog stand, Ms. Powers’ singing school, fights on the courthouse lawn on election day, driving round and round the square, rodeos, parades, fiddle and banjo playing from Thera Latimer and Freda Rogers.  We sing of the memories of the sweet duets of Flakadene Tidmore and Joanne Love, those Paducah High band concerts, the Off-Beats and the Hep Cats, the melodious a capella strains of “Kneel at the Cross in the church of Christ, Frances Richards making beautiful organ and piano music at the Methodist Church and the Baptist congregation doing just one more verse of “Just As I Am.”  We remember and sing of the sounds of Spanish being spoken as the migrant workers arrived for the harvests, the sound of the gins working throughout the night and the smell of gin smoke in the air.  We sing of the tractors plowing straight furrows and the first cotton sprouts springing out and the cattle roundups being held at our ranches. 

All of us here are part of that song.  Our beings and souls are inextricably entwined with this mighty cantata.  Writer Sarah Dessen wrote:

“Home wasn’t a set house, or a single town on a map.  It was wherever the people who loved you were, whenever you were together.  Not a place, but a moment, and then another, building on each other like bricks to create a solid shelter that you take with you for your entire life, wherever you may go.”

I am from Paducah, Texas.  I am the son of Roy Neal and Nita Parks.  I am the grandson of Conditt and Cora Cowart Parks.  I am the proud uncle of Jason Dane who has chosen to return to this blessed place of our ancestors. 

God bless all of you. God bless the multitude of interested spirits and ghosts who fill this place.  Help us to always remember this, our home. 

We are from Paducah, Texas.

Ronnie Parks

April 16, 2016