Journals, Junk and Treasures
“The plains of west Texas are level lands, no hills or mountains until getting close to the Mexican border. From our ranch one could see for miles and miles, no trees, only mesquite bushes. The nearest ranch was 10 miles away. My playmates were the Mexican children.
“The winds blew for days, especially in the dry years, which were three out of six. One could see only a few feet due to the sand in the wind. I remember once when there had been no rain for over two years. The cattle had licked even the grass roots up. A hard, cold winter came. As a storm approached, the cattle drifted to the south, turning their backs to the northers. After one great blizzard there were 300 head of cattle dead, piled up against the fence. When cut open there was nothin’ but mud in their bellies.
“Remember, in those days there was no government aid of any kind. We either produced food for ourselves and our cattle, or we starved. It was a difficult life, but it created strong determined people.”
This glimpse into the life of my great grandmother, Winnie May, who was born and raised near Midland, Texas, beautifully illustrates her struggle to raise her family in a difficult time and a trying climate. It came as a gift to me in response to a letter I had written to her in the late 1980s. In an effort to learn more about this ambitious woman, I asked her to write down her answers to several questions I posed. She had such a good time answering my questions that she couldn’t stop writing, and these are the first paragraphs in what became her life story. She was about 90 years old when she wrote her story. What if I had never asked the questions? What a treasure this is for her descendents.
“The winds blew for days, especially in the dry years, which were three out of six. One could see only a few feet due to the sand in the wind. I remember once when there had been no rain for over two years. The cattle had licked even the grass roots up. A hard, cold winter came. As a storm approached, the cattle drifted to the south, turning their backs to the northers. After one great blizzard there were 300 head of cattle dead, piled up against the fence. When cut open there was nothin’ but mud in their bellies.
“Remember, in those days there was no government aid of any kind. We either produced food for ourselves and our cattle, or we starved. It was a difficult life, but it created strong determined people.”
This glimpse into the life of my great grandmother, Winnie May, who was born and raised near Midland, Texas, beautifully illustrates her struggle to raise her family in a difficult time and a trying climate. It came as a gift to me in response to a letter I had written to her in the late 1980s. In an effort to learn more about this ambitious woman, I asked her to write down her answers to several questions I posed. She had such a good time answering my questions that she couldn’t stop writing, and these are the first paragraphs in what became her life story. She was about 90 years old when she wrote her story. What if I had never asked the questions? What a treasure this is for her descendents.