NOW - Great week last week! Getting settled into the life of leisure. Suddenly realized the other day that I have been without gainful employment for 2 whole months. Ryan and I have a new game. I shake my arms and head like an idiot (easily done) and Ryan roars with laughter. Some people are so easy to please. Ryan is on the verge of walking but just hasn't decided the risk is worth it yet. He took one step from granma's hand to mama's hand the other day. It was a great and fearsome adventure.
Saturday we went to the Village Inn pancake house across from LaFortune Park for breakfast. I had bacon, eggs, pancakes and hashbrowns. Ellen had strawberry crapes. Then we went to the Cherry Street Farmers' Market. Very yuppy don't you know. We got some cranberry bread and some fresh salad greens. After that we walked up Antique Row on Cherry Street (East 15th Street) and bought a couple of books at the "Aquarian Age Message and Spiritworks." My book is on the Bible as history and Ellen's is about the guns of the Civil War. Then we went to the Tulsa Rose Garden. Lots of beautiful roses. The were having a show of cactus plants. We saw some really weird cacti.
Sunday we went to worship at the Park Plaza congregation, of which we are now members, and got our picture taken for the church directory. After Bible class (worship first at 8:30 then Bible class at 9:45 or Bible class at 9:45 and worship at 11:00.) Since Ryan likes to get up early, David & Nichole go to early worship and since we want to see that at every possible occasion, so do we. I'm not sure it's scriptural but the Lord will understand too. He also had kids.) we went to lunch at Applebys with about 5 other young couples. (LOL).
Today Ellen went shopping with Nichole and I played PC Mahjongg and napped.
THEN-
Siblings: I have a total of 3 siblings. 2 older and one younger. I could tell a lot about them but it would be from my view and you need to hear it from theirs. Any way, this is my story. My brother, James Allen Broyles is 5 years my senior and died of cancer in 1990. My Sister, Sherrill Elaine Giddens is 3 years my senior and lives near her daughter in Trenton, Texas. My sister, Susan Elizabeth Gembler is 10 years my junior and lives with her husband Bill in Fort Worth, Texas.
In January 1933 Franklin Roosevelt became President of the United States. The country was deep in a depression. In March 1933 FDR closed all the banks to reorganize them, fend off a run on the banks and establish the Federal Depositors Insurance Commission.
THIS PART IS BROUGHT FORWARD FROM A PREVIOUS POST FOR CONTINUITY
My brother Jimmy was born March 3, 1933 and FDR closed the banks the next day. My brother was born at home and my parents could’t get to their money in the bank to pay the doctor. Mother said the doctor was drunk when he delivered Jimmy and was supposed to come back later and finish the job. He never came back, Jimmy never became Jewish and I don’t know if the doctor ever got his delivery fee or not.
Many people were out of work. My father had lost his job (probably delivering beer) and jobs were hard to come by. He got up one morning and went out to find a job. It got later and later in the day and my mother got worried about what might have happened to him. Many men in that day were robbed and left for dead, walked away from their families out of frustration and hopelessness or even committed suicide not being able to face their failure and inability to provide even the basic needs of their families.
Mother was distraught and called her father, my grandfather “Gaga” asking if he could help find my dad. Gaga checked around to see where they were hiring and found my father at the bottom of a hole deeper than he was tall digging footings for the buildings at the state fair grounds. My father said you can always find a job if you are willing to work.
Daddy was always willing and rarely went more than a day or two without work.
By this time the economy had improved and the family was financially stable. In another three years I came along and by the time I was two three years old we had settled in to our life on Mentor Street.
The Second World War was raging and Daddy was a Neighborhood Air Raid Warden. He had a white metal helmet with an emblem on it designating him as an o-fishul Air Raid Warden. When there was an air raid, Daddy and his fellow wardens would patrol the neighborhood at night to see that everyone’s shades were pulled tight so that no light could be seen and that no subversives were signaling the Axis powers to drop bombs on Mentor Street.
Around 1942 my parents, the son of a sharecropper and daughter of a small businessman, decided that they should go “back to the land”. After an undetermined time of searching, they found a farm in eastern Denton County about 40 miles north of Dallas and 6 miles east of Denton. Two miles north of State Highway 76 (Now US 35E) and near the small community of Corinth.
I remember the cold winter day when we drove to the farm from our home in Dallas to show Gaga and Momma Wright the farm. It was a gray dreary and we came to the farm from the east. My first sight of the house was from a break in the trees that lined the sandy road .
The farm was described legally as “80 acres, more or less” no matter what Gene Brown says. It had a 60 year old farm house (6 rooms and a path) with a hand dug 20 foot deep well at the edge of the back porch that had never gone dry in over 60 years. About 10 yards from the back of the house was an outhouse with a honeysuckle trellis in front. Helped kill the odor in the summer. The privy drew flies and the honeysuckle drew wasps and yellow jackets.
Mother couldn't resist swatting at the wasps and yellow jackets and once when she went to use the facilities a wasp got in to the privy and Mother began to swat at it. The wasp got mad and Mother decided to retreat. As she pulled up her slacks the wasp dropped into the opening and stung her on the hip. The result was a football sized swelling, very painful and lingered for many days.
West of the privy and just east of the lane that went from the driveway to the barn was a semi-submerged, sand stone root cellar. The cellar stood at the base of a large mulberry tree. I once built a tree house in the arms of the mulberry and lived many an exciting adventure in my mind.
At the entry to the driveway stood an ancient oak tree. Sherrill says she saw it recently and it is not as large as we remember it. I know it was to big for me to get my arms around and once Daddy hung a block and tackle from one of it’s lower branches and pulled the engine out of a ‘30 something Pontiac to work on it.
The farm also had a barn with hay loft, corn crib and milk shed. There were 2 small ponds and about 1/3 to ½ of the acreage was in black jack and post oak.
When we moved to the farm there was a crop of peanuts in the field which belonged to the previous owner. That was probably the last successful crop ever planted on the land. My dad, at various times tried to raise peanuts, corn and chickens with little success.
After two or three years Daddy went back to work in Dallas selling beer. He would get up early in the morning, drive to Corinth and catch a Continental Trailways bus to get to Dallas and bus back to home after dark and a full day of humping cases of beer.
I think we lived on the farm from the time I was 4 to my freshman year in college.
Being the third and youngest child for ten years, I learned to avoid the wrath of my older siblings and entertain my self at and early age. Living on an 80 acre farm during a time when perverts didn't come out to the country to bother people, I was free to roam and play afield as long as I was in earshot of my mothers beck and call.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Now and Then 6-4-9
NOW - Great week this week. Got to babysit Stone last Saturday and Irish (Ryan) M-T-W of this week. Getting settled into the congregation at Park Plaza. I said today that I guess the 80/20 rule (20% of any group does 80% of the work) still applies. It seems like Park Plaza church has so much talent and activity but I guess the reality is that there is more to draw from in 20% of 1000 than in an average size congregation. Our work here is certainly blessed by God but so is the work in a 50 member or a 150 member congregation. Here we find such a thrilling number of knowledgeable older members who have not retired from the Lord's word and so many young families who are willing and enthusiastic about serving the Lord that it almost takes your breath away. Ellen and I are getting ready to jump in and find our niche in the work here.
Had lunch today with the Neals, Garrisons, K. Frick and Ron Falcon and Rachael and Jake. It was great to see our old friends and catch up on life in Oklahoma's biggest "town". Oh well, everyone needs something to brag about.
It just dawned on me how much I use forms of the word "enthusiastic" in talking about the Lord's work. Looked it up and found that the root comes from en-Theo, Greek for in God. Hop we can all stay enthusiastic (in God.)
I HAVE MADE SOME ADDITIONS TO THE "THEN" SECTION OF THE MAY 30 BLOG AND INVITE YOU TO GO THERE TO SEE THE ADDITIONS
THEN - My mother, born Elsie Maude Wright, unlike my father, on of two children of an independent business man and his wife, the daughter of the Chief of Police of Natchez, Mississippi before the turn of the century. While my father, as a child, was learning humility and labor without complaining, my mother was learning that she had aristocratic roots and that any obstacle could be overcome if you talked loud enough and long enough. My mother always believed that she was really the daughter of a 19th century aristocrat born out or time, kidnapped and sold to commoners and condemned to suffer the drudgery and humiliation of being the wife of a noncommittal, spineless, underachieving blue-collar worker. My mother learned as a child to play the piano, participate in dramatic plays and recitations and take pride in her history and nation. As a child she was influenced by her hot tempered jealous father who was, in the 1930's and 40's a Grand-Master Mason and active member of the Klu Klux Klan. The Klan at that time was not only actively against afro-Americans but also against Catholics, Jews and other minorities that might threaten their (the Klan's) scion-economic status and power.
Bigotry and prejudice were a way of life in my upbringing and that of my parents. It was so ingrained in my life that I was either not aware of it or thought it was "the way things were." It was not until I got away from home that I realized how unrealistic and hurtful my beliefs and attitudes had been. While I have struggled to not pass on these errors, the first 20 years made a great impression on my mental processes and I still catch my self acting out my early teachings.
Had lunch today with the Neals, Garrisons, K. Frick and Ron Falcon and Rachael and Jake. It was great to see our old friends and catch up on life in Oklahoma's biggest "town". Oh well, everyone needs something to brag about.
It just dawned on me how much I use forms of the word "enthusiastic" in talking about the Lord's work. Looked it up and found that the root comes from en-Theo, Greek for in God. Hop we can all stay enthusiastic (in God.)
I HAVE MADE SOME ADDITIONS TO THE "THEN" SECTION OF THE MAY 30 BLOG AND INVITE YOU TO GO THERE TO SEE THE ADDITIONS
THEN - My mother, born Elsie Maude Wright, unlike my father, on of two children of an independent business man and his wife, the daughter of the Chief of Police of Natchez, Mississippi before the turn of the century. While my father, as a child, was learning humility and labor without complaining, my mother was learning that she had aristocratic roots and that any obstacle could be overcome if you talked loud enough and long enough. My mother always believed that she was really the daughter of a 19th century aristocrat born out or time, kidnapped and sold to commoners and condemned to suffer the drudgery and humiliation of being the wife of a noncommittal, spineless, underachieving blue-collar worker. My mother learned as a child to play the piano, participate in dramatic plays and recitations and take pride in her history and nation. As a child she was influenced by her hot tempered jealous father who was, in the 1930's and 40's a Grand-Master Mason and active member of the Klu Klux Klan. The Klan at that time was not only actively against afro-Americans but also against Catholics, Jews and other minorities that might threaten their (the Klan's) scion-economic status and power.
Bigotry and prejudice were a way of life in my upbringing and that of my parents. It was so ingrained in my life that I was either not aware of it or thought it was "the way things were." It was not until I got away from home that I realized how unrealistic and hurtful my beliefs and attitudes had been. While I have struggled to not pass on these errors, the first 20 years made a great impression on my mental processes and I still catch my self acting out my early teachings.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Now and Then
NOW - Everything going well. Have had nice weather for last week or two. High in the 60's and 70's. Much warmer today but still nice. Getting settled into the apartment. Cole has come over a number of days and she and Ellen have been sewing about 30 or so small dresses and short pants they will give to some short term missionaries to take to our missionaries in the Dominican Republic. It is reported that the small indigenous children in the Dominican have few garments to wear. The girls have limited clothing and the little boys go about in their all together.
We have had the opportunity to babysit for Stone and Ryan at different times. They are both very good boys and easy to care for. It's amazing the difference between a one year old and a two year old. They are both exceptional for their age of course but Ryan ( 1 year old) has not started walking yet but is standing without assistance. He has a limited vocabulary but is picking up new words all the time. Stone is 2 years old runs and climbs everywhere, has many words in his vocabulary although he is not making sentences yet. He sits at the table and eats with a fork and is fascinated with hand tools and Bob the Builder.
THEN - I just came across my record book in which I was writing my autobiography. This work is specifically for my heirs (not having anything of worth to bequeath to them) so anyone else can skip over these insertions with my apology.
It will be easier for me to start over again and transcribe the contents of the record book than to try to edit and blend what I have already put in the blog with what is in the book. I ask therefore that you bare with me through the first few years of my chronicle so that I can catch up on what I have written.
The title of these memoirs is "No You Can't....You're Too Young" (From Pearl Harbor to the Moon And Beyond)
The writing gets its title from and dedication to my (much) younger sister, Susan Elizabeth Broyles Gembler who always thought she could remember things that happened before she was born.
CHAPTER 1 pg. 1
It was one of those sounds that grabs your teeth in such a way that you clinch them tightly together in order to keep them from being yanked out by the roots. It ran down my spine like a thousand electrical wires attached directly to the nerve endings. It crawled like phantom spiders up and down my flesh and made me shudder involuntarily.
Such is my first memory. The memory of a 3 year old digging with a tin shovel in a neighbor's sand box and of scraping against a rusty tin can hidden just below the surface of the sand and of hearing the sound of tin on rusty tin similar to fingernails scraping on a chalk board.
I was born in Dallas, Texas on July 14, 1938 and my early memories are of the time when we lived on Mentor Street in Oakcliff, a section of Dallas populated mainly by lower to lower middle income families beginning to be upwardly mobile during the Second World War. (My mother told me later that the First World War was thought to be "The War to End All Wars". Since the beginning of WWII, Korea, Vietnam and now the Middle East conflict(s) we have begun to realize that God is right, "there will be wars and rumors of wars but the end is not yet")
ADDED 6-4-9
Our house was a small (though it seemed very large at the time) frame house with a single car, dirt floored garage. The only thing I remember about the interior is that there was an archway between the living room and the dining room and a door that swung both ways between the dining room and the kitchen.
I have images of sitting in the dining room at lunch listening to Mother’s soap operas and eating Campbell’s Cream of Tomato Soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. The radio soap operas, 15 minutes I think, included: Our Gal Sunday, Portia Faces Life, When A Girl Marries, Just Plain Bill and Stella Dallas. There was one called ----- Back Stage Wife but I don’t know if that was Stella Dallas or someone else.
Other early memories include my mother making me a Porky Pig Halloween mask out of a brown paper bag so that I could go to a Halloween party with my sister (she loved taking me --- Not!) Two little girls that lived down the street gave the party. I remember bobbing for apples and a Piñata I think.
We had a red bull calf that was staked out in the empty lot to the west of our house. I had to cross the lot to get to a friends house and the calf would try to run and butt me when I crossed the lot. I was terrified of the calf.
On the east side of our house lived Mr. Johnson, a Dallas Fireman, who had a big stallion in his back yard. The horse got in to a shed or garage where the oats were kept and foundered on the feed. I remember going with my dad one evening and keeping a vigil with men of the neighborhood as the horse slowly died.
I also remember the time the city paved the street with tar. The tar came in large rolls wrapped in heave paper. When needed, it would be chopped into manageable chunks and put into a cooker, which melted the tar so it could be spread on the street. Until it was used, the cylinders stood unguarded by the side of the street waiting for little boys to gouge are cut off chunks and chew it like gum. I don’t know whether this was a macho thing or whether we thought it tasted good. We did it either way.
My dad had a friend who lived nearby named “Cub” Mitchell. Mr. Mitchell had worked in Panama in Central America who came back with tales of seeing donkeys being swallowed by Boa Constrictors.
At the time of my first memories our family consisted of my Father, Mother, older brother Jimmy (James Allen), older Sister (Sherrill Elain) and me (Teddy Lawrence)
my legal name is Teddy. I was supposed to be named after Theodore Lawrence, the male lead in Little Women. My mother thought I was too small for such a big name and so shortened it to Teddy. My Father, Clarence Eggar Broyles, was the oldest son of a share cropper named James Ernest Broyles and his wife Roxie Eunice (nee Jones.) My Grandfather James Ernest had come as an infant from Tennessee to Texas.
My father, who his children called "pumpkin" when we were small, terminated his formal educating in the seventh grade in order to earn a living and help support his family of two adults and 5 children. Most of what I know about my fathers childhood is that he picked cotton, got into fights in school (beginning the first day of the first grade) and got a piece of fruit (apple or orange) and a half of a cedar pencil for Christmas.
Next time: Enter Mother
We have had the opportunity to babysit for Stone and Ryan at different times. They are both very good boys and easy to care for. It's amazing the difference between a one year old and a two year old. They are both exceptional for their age of course but Ryan ( 1 year old) has not started walking yet but is standing without assistance. He has a limited vocabulary but is picking up new words all the time. Stone is 2 years old runs and climbs everywhere, has many words in his vocabulary although he is not making sentences yet. He sits at the table and eats with a fork and is fascinated with hand tools and Bob the Builder.
THEN - I just came across my record book in which I was writing my autobiography. This work is specifically for my heirs (not having anything of worth to bequeath to them) so anyone else can skip over these insertions with my apology.
It will be easier for me to start over again and transcribe the contents of the record book than to try to edit and blend what I have already put in the blog with what is in the book. I ask therefore that you bare with me through the first few years of my chronicle so that I can catch up on what I have written.
The title of these memoirs is "No You Can't....You're Too Young" (From Pearl Harbor to the Moon And Beyond)
The writing gets its title from and dedication to my (much) younger sister, Susan Elizabeth Broyles Gembler who always thought she could remember things that happened before she was born.
CHAPTER 1 pg. 1
It was one of those sounds that grabs your teeth in such a way that you clinch them tightly together in order to keep them from being yanked out by the roots. It ran down my spine like a thousand electrical wires attached directly to the nerve endings. It crawled like phantom spiders up and down my flesh and made me shudder involuntarily.
Such is my first memory. The memory of a 3 year old digging with a tin shovel in a neighbor's sand box and of scraping against a rusty tin can hidden just below the surface of the sand and of hearing the sound of tin on rusty tin similar to fingernails scraping on a chalk board.
I was born in Dallas, Texas on July 14, 1938 and my early memories are of the time when we lived on Mentor Street in Oakcliff, a section of Dallas populated mainly by lower to lower middle income families beginning to be upwardly mobile during the Second World War. (My mother told me later that the First World War was thought to be "The War to End All Wars". Since the beginning of WWII, Korea, Vietnam and now the Middle East conflict(s) we have begun to realize that God is right, "there will be wars and rumors of wars but the end is not yet")
ADDED 6-4-9
Our house was a small (though it seemed very large at the time) frame house with a single car, dirt floored garage. The only thing I remember about the interior is that there was an archway between the living room and the dining room and a door that swung both ways between the dining room and the kitchen.
I have images of sitting in the dining room at lunch listening to Mother’s soap operas and eating Campbell’s Cream of Tomato Soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. The radio soap operas, 15 minutes I think, included: Our Gal Sunday, Portia Faces Life, When A Girl Marries, Just Plain Bill and Stella Dallas. There was one called ----- Back Stage Wife but I don’t know if that was Stella Dallas or someone else.
Other early memories include my mother making me a Porky Pig Halloween mask out of a brown paper bag so that I could go to a Halloween party with my sister (she loved taking me --- Not!) Two little girls that lived down the street gave the party. I remember bobbing for apples and a Piñata I think.
We had a red bull calf that was staked out in the empty lot to the west of our house. I had to cross the lot to get to a friends house and the calf would try to run and butt me when I crossed the lot. I was terrified of the calf.
On the east side of our house lived Mr. Johnson, a Dallas Fireman, who had a big stallion in his back yard. The horse got in to a shed or garage where the oats were kept and foundered on the feed. I remember going with my dad one evening and keeping a vigil with men of the neighborhood as the horse slowly died.
I also remember the time the city paved the street with tar. The tar came in large rolls wrapped in heave paper. When needed, it would be chopped into manageable chunks and put into a cooker, which melted the tar so it could be spread on the street. Until it was used, the cylinders stood unguarded by the side of the street waiting for little boys to gouge are cut off chunks and chew it like gum. I don’t know whether this was a macho thing or whether we thought it tasted good. We did it either way.
My dad had a friend who lived nearby named “Cub” Mitchell. Mr. Mitchell had worked in Panama in Central America who came back with tales of seeing donkeys being swallowed by Boa Constrictors.
At the time of my first memories our family consisted of my Father, Mother, older brother Jimmy (James Allen), older Sister (Sherrill Elain) and me (Teddy Lawrence)
my legal name is Teddy. I was supposed to be named after Theodore Lawrence, the male lead in Little Women. My mother thought I was too small for such a big name and so shortened it to Teddy. My Father, Clarence Eggar Broyles, was the oldest son of a share cropper named James Ernest Broyles and his wife Roxie Eunice (nee Jones.) My Grandfather James Ernest had come as an infant from Tennessee to Texas.
My father, who his children called "pumpkin" when we were small, terminated his formal educating in the seventh grade in order to earn a living and help support his family of two adults and 5 children. Most of what I know about my fathers childhood is that he picked cotton, got into fights in school (beginning the first day of the first grade) and got a piece of fruit (apple or orange) and a half of a cedar pencil for Christmas.
Next time: Enter Mother
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Catch Up
In the last week we have:
Sold house, (Money's in the bank)
Moved into our apartment
Heard that friend/brother Joe Pruitt died from heart attack
I went to Dr. for treatment of gout.
Ellen helped Nichole get her flowerbed cleaned and planted
Ellen sewing dresses for missionaries to give to girls in the Dominican
Ellen making summer togs for grandsons (Dorcas, Dorcas, Dorcas)
Spent Saturday with Doug and family. Got to play with Stone.
Gout almost gone.
Still haven't located some items from the move.
Had 2 flats last week. Found out that tire stores in Tulsa (Hibdons, Goodyear,
Firestone) don't charge anything to fix and remount flats. (Tate Brothers
in Skiatook charged $10)
Ellen got hanging basket of Impatiens and other blooming plants for large pot in
front of apartment.
Sold house, (Money's in the bank)
Moved into our apartment
Heard that friend/brother Joe Pruitt died from heart attack
I went to Dr. for treatment of gout.
Ellen helped Nichole get her flowerbed cleaned and planted
Ellen sewing dresses for missionaries to give to girls in the Dominican
Ellen making summer togs for grandsons (Dorcas, Dorcas, Dorcas)
Spent Saturday with Doug and family. Got to play with Stone.
Gout almost gone.
Still haven't located some items from the move.
Had 2 flats last week. Found out that tire stores in Tulsa (Hibdons, Goodyear,
Firestone) don't charge anything to fix and remount flats. (Tate Brothers
in Skiatook charged $10)
Ellen got hanging basket of Impatiens and other blooming plants for large pot in
front of apartment.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
A New Place for Our Home
We have found a new place for our home. We now live at the Ridge Park Apartments on S. Yale in Tulsa. Our address is Ted & Ellen Broyles, 4904 E. 76th St. #607, Tulsa, OK, 74136. I will take some pix and add to the blog later. We have so many great friends and brothers and sisters in Christ who took time out of their busy lives to help us pack, load, unload and unpack our belongings in our move. It is impossible to thank them enough for their time and efforts. We have told God how much we love them and how much we love Him for sending them to us.
Monday, March 30, 2009
A GREAT WEEKEND
It just gets better and better! Thursday and Friday evenings we went to the Tulsa Soul Winning Workshop. Saw Nic & friend, David, Nichole & Ryan and heard some great singing and preaching. Ellen came by Friday to go to lunch and told me we had a contract on the house. The realtor came by Friday evening, explained the contract and we signed the papers. Deal should close around the middle of May which is also when I'll get my retirement. It snowed Saturday and we just stayed in all day and did practically nothing but do crossword puzzles watch basketball on TV eat and sleep. Sunday the snow was melting, we went to Bible class and worship, ate out at Senor Salsa's (Ellen's favorite local eatery) and spent the afternoon watching basketball and napping. Went to Marion & Mildred Thompson's house for small group meeting Sunday evening and enjoyed every one's company and Bible study.
I have one more day of work before I retire. Projects keep piling up waiting for me to have full time to devote to them. On the list now are fixing the loose trim on the outside of the house, spraying the yard for weeds, cleaning and seasoning my collection of cast iron cookware to give to Doug and cleaning my collection of camp lanterns to give to Doug.
Doug is hot on the trail of my ancestors for his son. He calls me almost daily to ask about how someone fits into the pedigree or tell me about something he has discovered about our progenitors. It makes me feel good (a la Lance Alrunner) to see him so excited to learn about his predecessors.
I have one more day of work before I retire. Projects keep piling up waiting for me to have full time to devote to them. On the list now are fixing the loose trim on the outside of the house, spraying the yard for weeds, cleaning and seasoning my collection of cast iron cookware to give to Doug and cleaning my collection of camp lanterns to give to Doug.
Doug is hot on the trail of my ancestors for his son. He calls me almost daily to ask about how someone fits into the pedigree or tell me about something he has discovered about our progenitors. It makes me feel good (a la Lance Alrunner) to see him so excited to learn about his predecessors.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
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