Making Memories

‘The most beautiful things are not associated with money; they are memories and moments."   Alec Wek

Memories are special and personal. My childhood is not like yours nor even my sister's. We often laugh about 'that's not how I remember it.'

Memories are also made for others to share and that is where parents, schools, and communities come together. My sincere applause to the community of Miami, Oklahoma and all who made dreams come true this year with spectacular lights, colorful globes, the tallest Christmas Tree on Route 66, hot chocolate, fresh cookies and sweets. and a main street filled with families making memories for another generation.

I have realized in the last few decades that some of my memories are more like souvenirs. The word parade elicits large floats with scenes of Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus; flat floats filled with children from the Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts, and community churches singing; grade schools with scenes from a Christmas play. The floats were larger than life and skirted and covered with chicken wire stuffed with napkins / Kleenex. (I had some experience in decorating floats when I attended NEO.)  In my child’s imagination the floats were every bit as large as Macy’s Christmas parade. My eyes saw glittering shades of reds, greens, whites, yellows, pinks, orange, black, blues, all twinkling, or flashing like magic. Whereas our black and white televisions and newspapers only carried parades in black and white.

Wilson School

My heart filled with joy and giggles when I heard over the loudspeakers Holly Jolly Christmas by Burl Ives. These are the moments that connect their generation with my generation.

A recent "Family Circus" cartoon shows the little boy holding a string of Christmas lights, then handing them to his father, the child declares,

 "Christmas lights up the world." 

In my hometown, Miami, Oklahoma, we attended every Christmas parade from 1955--the 1970's on the first Saturday night of December.  Of course, my vision is in full color and always in my mind ready to roll. As a child, my point of view often caught the tires and lower levels of vehicles passing by pulling the radiant floats. Everything above me was giant in size. Looking up I saw astronomical golden yellow, blue, green, and red balls.  Greenery and streaming lights were as high as the sky and unreachable as a child. 

What older people and former residents forget is that our parents and community were Making Memories for us. Fifty-years later parents and community are still Making Memories for their children and the children of Ottawa county. They are different memories, and they will have cameras and photos to recall plus bags of candy to remember the sweetness of the night. 

Small towns still sent bands, cheerleaders, dance teams, "Shriners," shinny cars, fancy trucks, sleighs with toys and candy. The lights glowed overhead. People sang along, clapped and cheered for family and friends. 

The children in front of us caught my attention. They jumped and hollered with joy and giggled at the sights on which their eyes feasted.  A gray car, one I called the Bat Mobile drove by and I noticed the children's eyes and awes were thrilling. I wondered what a Bat Mobile would be doing in a Christmas parade? The truth of the matter is that it was a Tesla Truck, and didn't we have shiny new Mustang  convertibles in our parades?  I laughed out loud at myself and could hear in my head the lyrics to Rodgers and Hammerstein's song,

 "Everything's up to date in Oklahoma. They've gone about as far as they can go. They went and built a skyscraper seven stories high about as high as a building ought to go." 

What could be more joyful for a seventy-year-old woman than to hear the voices of children laughing, loving, and spirited in the moments...making memories. 

The highlight for me was to see that Miami honored its best, Jane Osborn, as the Grand Marshall of the 2024 Parade. Her artic white hair, her joyful face aglow, and bright red lipstick set off her genuine smile and love for her hometown. She waved and we waved back. We knew her love and commitment had helped to bring our small town back to life. 

Thank you Jane Osborn, Bill Osborn,  Colby Allen Sign Company, Mayor Bless Parker, Bobby Poole, Debbie East and members of the community who worked together to make this parade of 2024 the best ever for the children with new businesses and brick buildings clean and inviting.

Footnote: Jonya and I drove old Route 66 going home on that Sunday from Miami to Sapulpa. You can't go wrong on Route 66....

For a glimpse of the olden days of black and white in Miami click on this link: 1950's Christmas Parades

Seventy-one Years Ago--A Red Letter Day

Sunday, November 29, 1953 will go down in Northeastern A&M college's records as one of the most significant dates in the local institution's history. NEO received the Eastern bid to participate in the Junior Rose Bowl football game at Pasadena on December 12. NEO, which came into being as the "School of Mines" back in 1919, has never before basked in the national spotlight. 

NEO Coaches: Dewey Lynch, Head Coach Red Robertson, Bill Smith

The Norsemen, a rugged gridiron squad has overwhelmed nine rivals this season. They are expected to give Bakersfield, California Jr. College a rousing battle. It is hoped that the game will be another smashing triumph for Red Robertson's aggregation.

 November 30, 1953 Three hitchhikers in an automobile near Vinita heard the radio bulletin: "Northeastern A&M will play in the Jr. Rose Bowl!"

The husky trio let out a whoop and asked the driver, a young lady, to please stop at the nearest public telephone. Jim Wilmoth, Darrell Brooks and Jerry Price couldn't wait to reach Miami before calling home--collect, of course--who could blame them. 

The three hitchhikers will be traveling first-class to Pasadena next weekend. All three are members of the powerful Northeastern football team. Wilmoth and Brooks play guard, and Price is a flashy halfback. "We will win. I'm sure of it." Carter declared after receiving the bid.

No one worked harder promoting the team than Homa Thomas, business instructor and sports publicist. 

December 6, 1953

The Miami News Record reports that the entire NEO football team will be going to Pasadena and so are the Norse Stars...the Airforce ROTC band...and others who can pay for the trip.

Dr. Bruce G. Carter, college president stated: We all get to go. We may eat hamburgers instead of "high off the hog," but the important thing is that we won't leave anybody behind." 

$5000 dollars-plus was raised in a whirlwind three-day rally, and still remains short of the $8,00 goal. Countless individuals have contributed to the fund. 

Lahoma Sue Thomas Weese (7th grader) , daughter of Homa Thomas, attended the game along with Barbara Sue Robertson (9th grader), daughter of Coach Red Robertson, Gladys Robertson, Pat Smith, and Lois Thomas. 

This is her memory of that trip Seventy-one years ago.

We began our excursion on Route 66 heading west through Oklahoma, where our eyes saw nothing but roadside gravel.

We spent our first night in Gallup, New Mexico. I only recall the hills were all reddish colored rocks. 

Now up and ready to go, we drove to the Grand Canyon. Here we explored the sights and grandeur of the canyon. We stayed at the oldest hotel, the El Tovar at the Grand Canyon. Here Barbara Sue and I found out that rubbing your feet on the carpet and touching someone or something like a doorknob would produce a spark of electricity. Can you imagine the fun the two of us had with our mothers that morning.

El Tovar Historic Hotel opened in 1905

After breakfast, we were on our way west. We noticed a young man walking down the road carrying a gas can. We stopped and asked if he needed help. He accepted our help, and we drove him to his car down the road. After the young man stepped out of the car and we were back on the road our mothers gave a great sigh of relief. It seems as though we were all a little nervous with a strange man in the car.

We enjoyed the sights along the way, not knowing what an interesting part of history we had seen going through all of the towns and seeing all of the sight along Route 66.

When we arrived in Pasadena each of us went to the places where we would stay.

One night we attended a filming of a TV show “What’s My Line?” It was Mel Blanc that night and after they recognized him, he performed many of the voices we recognized from the cartoons. After that we all walked across the street to the Formosa Café where a lot of the TV personalities would hang out. Barbara Sue and I saw Frank Sinatra, but we were to bashful to ask for his autograph.

The parade kicked off the game day in California. We all attended the parade ….

The game is another story for the record book.

Yes, we really won the game or would have won the game if the referee hadn’t moved the ball back to the one-yard line on our last touchdown. I know everyone says that, but in this case it’s true! They have admitted it.

The Miami News Record reported that Coach Robertson had nothing but praise for his boys. "The breaks went against us, but we were beaten by a really good ball club. I thought we had a victory until that fumble came along late in the third." Robertson was keenly disappointed with his team's failure to score when they had the ball on Bakersfield's three in the final stanza. Robertson said he thought Graham had scored on the dramatic foot-to-go plunge on the fourth down. Players, too, questioned the decision. But two of the five West Coast officials on duty said Graham's head, but not the ball penetrated the end zone. 

For the return trip the boys were sent home on the train. A train car was rented and Dad was the sponsor. It was a noisy trip with only one hitch. There was a 15-minute stop in Las Vegas, Nevada. As you would suspect, all of the boys got off the train car and ran into the station. When the 15 minutes were up, most of them got back on the train. A few were seen running down the tracks trying to catch the train. Dad pulled the emergency chord that stopped the train. I’m sure there were a few words exchanged with the Conductor, but Dad got his boys back on the train and didn’t care.

Kayleen Thomas, Norse Star writes: 

The Norse stars drove in private cars all the way out to Pasadena to be in the Junior Rose Bowl parade and perform at halftime. We wore two different uniforms our Indian one and our white Fringed one with hoops to do a New York rocket type routine.

The city dance teacher Virginia Lee Wilson was the choreographer for the North stars.

Betty Fields, NEO Band member writes: 

All the band marched in the parade--it was a long march, but the weather was warmer than for most football-marches! We also did a band routine at half-time. I think most band members made the long trip, but some people had already made other plans for the holidays. 

Thoughts by Literally Letty: 

Even though I was young, I heard this story of the Norsemen and Norse Stars going to the Junior Rose Bowl. numerous times.  I joined the Norse Star drill team in 1965 in hopes that we, too, would go to the Rose Bowl. NEO played in the Jr. College Rose Bowl in 1953, 1958 both times they were beaten, but never forgotten by their fans in Northeast Oklahoma. 

As lady luck would have it, my husband and I took the opportunity to go to the Rose Bowl, 2003 in which the University of Oklahoma beat Washington State 34-14. For the one and only time in my life we spent the morning in Pasadena watching the Rose Bowl Parade live, sitting immediately under Al Roker in the CBS tower.  It was one of the sports highlights of my life. 

NEO recently honored Homa Thomas for his dedication to the school and the athletes. Homa Thomas Field

Sunbeams Before the First Frost

On a yesterday decades ago I read a short story by Ray Bradbury "All Summer in One Day." It told the story of a girl, Margot, living on a planet where people had moved after nearly destroying planet earth. On this planet the sun only shined once every seven years, if they were lucky. 

"It had been raining for seven years; thousands upon thousands of days compounded and filled from one end to the other with rain, with the drum and gush of water, with the sweet crystal fall of showers and the concussion of storms so heavy they were tidal waves coming over the islands. A thousand forests had been crushed under the rain and grown up a thousand times to be crushed again. And this was the way life was forever on the planet Venus, and this was the schoolroom of the children of the rocket men and women who had come to a raining world to set up civilization and live out their lives."

"Margot stood apart from them, from these children who could never remember a time when there wasn't rain and rain and rain. They were all nine years old..." All Summer in One Day

That one short story has never left my soul. The blessing Bradbury gave me was to appreciate every day and every ray of sunshine I could absorb. Along with my love of the sun comes warmth, the cold hurts my bones.

The day before the frost, on this warm extended fall season in Oklahoma, I quietly sauntered, not a walking gait that I am accustomed to, around the neighborhood and found roses in bloom. Not just a rose but bushes as red as spring spreading across gardens prepared for winter's blast. 

The sunbeams pulled me along the sidewalks.  We go hand in hand, the sun and I. I hadn't planned to go far that day when my eyes fell on the yellow roses reaching out from under a tree limb to feel the sun on its petals. I knew how it felt, as the sun facing me warmed my bones. 

I smiled. Reaching downward I gently touched the soft petal, thanking it for this moment.  

Hiding in the corner of a home with an imposing driveway, my eyes were drawn to this Clematis in full climbing mode. The man who cares for his weedless perfectly lined and measured flowers was standing outside, like I, admiring the sun and bending backwards to stretch. I nodded and thanked him for always having flowers in bloom no matter the season and complimenting his Clematis. He beamed like a proud grandfather, "Isn't she gorgeous? I nearly killed her this spring when I cut her back nearly to ground level and now look at her. She's a true beauty queen." 

I asked to take a picture to share with others. He smiled and nodded yes, "I want to make sure my wife sees......" Just then his wife pulled in the driveway. As she stepped out of the car he hollered, "Honey, Honey, come over here, now please." She hesitated seeing me there and watching him pull out his cell phone and wave her over. 

"I want to take your picture beside the Clematis in bloom. She matches you favorite silk blouse." The wife smiled. I offered to take the picture of the two of them with their beauty queen, but he only focused on his lovely wife. I walked away as she walked towards her husband and his cell phone. Was her name Honey, or is it springtime for these love birds? I wondered. 

Impatiens

Another block over I spied a wall of Impatiens, hiding under the trees. By November they had filled in the entire space between trees and bushes. Did the people who live there ever see the beauty on that side of their house. I wanted to knock on their door and brag on their flowers....but I hesitated and moved on. 

I read through a winter as many Lisa See novels as I could. One of the quotes by Lady Tan in the novel Circle of Women has stayed with me:

     "Human life is like a sunbeam passing through a crack."

Shasta Daisies 

Even in a garden that didn't grow flowers, these daisies caught my attention like the sunbeams passing through a crack. I wonder if Lady Tan and her circle of women ever enjoyed a secret walk on a warm fall day before the first frost or were they held captive by their place in life never experiencing the beauty that springs out of season. 

For some of us it is easy to walk through life looking straight ahead, not glancing downward nor listening to the world flying by. I believe if we keep our eyes and ears open and pay attention to the fine details surrounding us, we can find inspiration, clear our minds of cobwebs and clutter, or find a hidden muse between the leaves. 

Butter Daises

Returning home my glorious freely seeded Butter Daises, that traveled from Hutchinson, Kansas to the clay soils of Oklahoma greeted me at our walkway. Thanks to the wind and the birds these tiny flowers grow wherever dropped. From early spring to the last very last day of fall these tiny yellow blossoms attract bees, birds, and people walking by. 

The last to shrivel and drop away are the Mexican Petunias that grow as tall as sunflowers in the meadow. From our kitchen table we enjoy their purple blooming essence from morning till night fall from June until the first frost. 

Some people prefer not to plant such an invasive flower, but others of us appreciate the gaps they fill with beauty. When they outgrow their boundaries I dig them up and find homes for them. They can handle extreme heat, high humidity, drought, and five inches of rainfall in one hour. Like me, they prefer full or partial sunlight. 

My mother would have loved this thought by St. Francis of Assisi--

 "A single sunbeam is enough to drive many shadows away."

and so is a flower in bloom....

Not a Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving Feast

Thank you Liz Russell Fugate for sharing your Tabletop Tuesday photos. 

Stories come in all shapes sizes and locations. The other day a friend shared a family funny story that put me in stitches. I thought we were the only family who had aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, in-laws and more who arrived on their own time clock. Otherwise, known as the family who arrives late, sometimes after the meal when they were the ones responsible for the appetizers. Yes, we learned that bacon wrapped jalapeno Poppers" tasted as good after dinner as before. 

Kari's story holds the "Really" trophy. It seems as though many of us have family members who are not cooks, in any way shape or form. In her case, the niece, who was happily married with three children who looked well fed and a husband who, too, enjoyed his meals. With the Thanksgiving meal out of the oven, the turnkey cut, and the food being spread on the table, the niece arrived who was to bring the sweet potato casserole. 

Thank you Liz Russell Fugate for sharing your lovely Tabletop Tuesday photos. 

A knock on the door, Kari saw the niece and family behind her  bursting through the front door and hallway, saying over and over, "I'm here. I'm here." All the while swinging a plastic bag of four large sweet potatoes fresh from the potato bin at the grocery store--not cooked, not peeled, not ready to eat in anyway, shape, or form. 

Needless, to say Kari's family did not eat sweet potato casserole that Thanksgiving. 

Ben's story. He laughed before he could even tell it, leaving those of us listening to laugh with him without knowing why. "I was ten years old the year I saw my ninety-eight pound mother take down my one- hundred and twenty-three pound black lab. 

She had baked two turkeys for her large family. One shoved to the back of the kitchen counter and the other near the ledge, too near the ledge. Mother turned her back and in that instant my lab grabbed the turkey and ran. Mother at the top of her voice screaming, "Drop! I said, Drop." The lab wasn't listening. She ran after him, tackled him in the living room in front of her family and wrestled him to the floor putting his head in a choke hold. I heard her growl, "I'm not eating this turkey but you are not either. Now drop."

The dog knew he'd been beat and to this day every living member of our family loves to retell that story. 

These stories came about as I told a friend last week that the parts for oven had not arrived, thus, the repair man could not fix our broken oven. It's not broken completely but it has a mind of its own when it comes to heating up. It might say that the temperature is at 350, when in reality it is sitting at 200. Most recently, it heated itself to 490 and as the food began to turn black and crisp I pulled it out of the oven. 

We are planning to smoke out meats on Wednesday, weather provided, and avoid the panic breakdown of one uncooked turnkey on Thanksgiving. 

Which reminds me of another story.

Bob invited us over for a Sunday meal after Thanksgiving to relax and reflect. We always enjoyed Bob's meals as they were quite tasty. Our job was simple...bring the wine. 

Thank you Liz Russell Fugate for sharing your Tabletop Tuesday photos. 

We arrived thirty minutes early for a drink or two, like our parents before us did. However, as we approached the kitchen there was a riot of words spewing from Bob's mouth. We stopped short of the kitchen and looked at his wife who was ready to break into hysterical laughter. 

"Can we fix someone a drink," I asked innocently. 

"Please do," smiled his wife. Stepping around Bob as he danced a devils jig, we filled four wine glasses and hoped he would settle down. 

The food was all arranged and nothing looked amiss. After a few quiet sips of wine Bob announced that we were having a vegetarian meal. We nodded our approval, looked to the table and his wife for directions when she burst out with the story. 

"Bobby forgot to turn the smoker on this morning. When he checked it before you arrived the pork lay there raw and bloody on the grill." 

Silence surrounded the table until one by one our eyes drifted to Bob, and suddenly we all gushed with laughter and snorts. 

The marinated pork tenderloin probably would have been delicious, IF ONLY. Throughout the meal, we could hear Bob muttering to himself. "I can't believe I did that." "Glad it wasn't Thanksgiving." "I can't believe I did that." 

If only he could understand how good his disaster made that rest of humanity feel about hysterical kitchen disasters. 

Confessions are good they say, and Ann's disaster proved that she had more patience for life than I had thought. 

Her large kitchen, dining, and den area could easily seat thirty people for Thanksgiving. With her husband in cooperate business, they often entertained large groups of salesmen and other representatives. Ann loved to cook.

Thank you Liz Russell Fugate for sharing your Tabletop Tuesday photos. 

About an hour before the guests and family were to arrive Ann turned on the garbage disposal to clean up, when suddenly it erupted like a pea green volcano gurgling potato skins and more.  My one word name for women like Ann would be "pluperfect." By my definition that means someone who walks with perfect posture, speaks with grammatically  correct English, sets the table perfectly, and knows exactly when to speak. 

At that moment, she recalls, yelling at her husband to get into the kitchen NOW. When Ed saw the sink, distress rose in his voice, "I can't fix that, not with company coming."

"Do something. Now." The perfect face and demure melted into tears. 

He went to the bathroom for the plunger, but first used the toilet and discovered that he needed the plunger in the bathroom and worse yet, how could he tell his wife that the plumbing was erupting all over the house. He wisely stepped in the bedroom, found the telephone book and called a local plumber. It took several calls before one could be located and willing to come out immediately on Thanksgiving day. 

As only a "pluperfect" woman could do, Ann greeted the plumber with all smiles as he walked in the front door with the guests. 

That Thanksgiving Ed prepared a special drink for the guests as they waited for the meal to be served. Ann and her daughters worked in the kitchen arranging the foods and last-minute items. The plumber went straight to work.

The Thanksgiving meal began a an hour late with warm turkey and dressing but no one gave notice. Desserts were served and the guests retired to various spaces in the house. 

Before evening the plumber finished and Ann, in her gracious manner, asked the plumber to stay and have a Thanksgiving meal at her table. 

Murphy Versus the Rains of November

 

I  am having a long boring day, and letyty says that some days are like that, even in Australia....whatever ? that means??

lettty laughed when she said it so,',',',',',' it must be good;

 look at the new lettters i am finding on the big keys;

;;;;;; this looks like my tail with a dot; i think i will use it instead of a black dot

I have black dots on my chest and bellly and that is where they belong, not on a piece of paper;;;;;;; these letters make me think that i am waggging my tail;;;;;;;

it is raining and i am not wagiging my tail====

I cannot go outside and chase the squirrrels out of my yard and we sure have tooo many of those long tailed varmits====

i played with my toys yester night when it rained //////

 I have been playing with my chews and my bouncy ballls and my bones! then lettty said NO MORE

jack says that i look pitiful but i do not look pitiful enough or he  wood take me for a walk>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

now i am having fun on this computer and letty is laughing;;;;;;

she says that i must really be bored to play on the key bored like this][ or look i can make a box [] 

I can make <><><><><><> a doggie lease

guess what????????

letty and jack have to drive somewhere and it is not raining, so i can go with them;;;;;;;

this is so much fun;;; look at me run,;,;,;,;,;,;,;,; splash splash

Now i am home and dry and happy

maybe the sun will come out tomorrow

BLAM letty hit some keys and i watched a girl named Annie sing this song that i LOVE 

 The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow

The Golf Gypsy, Will Rogers, and Clint Eastwood

Will Rogers is quoted as saying, 

  “I guess there is nothing that will get your mind off everything like golf. I have never been depressed enough to take up the game, but they say you get so sore at yourself you forget to hate your enemy.” 

Miami News Records 1931, February 8. 

Rogers had a chance to play golf when he landed his plane due to foggy conditions, in Miami, Oklahoma February 8, 1931.  I gather he'd rather talk to people than play such a frustrating game, even when George L. Coleman Jr.  came to his rescue.

George L. Coleman, Jr. wins Oklahoma State Am. 

Golf has been a frustrating and important part of my life since the day I learned to walk.  My father, the pro, drilled into my head that I should not expect to win if I did not practice. At seventy-six it hurts too much to practice like I know I should, so I am learning to adapt, to adjust, revamp, rethink and accept. Accept that this is my game. (Currently, I am not doing a very good job of that, meaning my game and my acceptance that I now shoot in the 90's.) 

/.Letty Stapp, 1954 Miami Golf and Country Club

This fall, I partnered with Donna to play in the WOGA CUP. It felt like my game faltered with every swing. I played as well as I could, my competitive spirit and ability to laugh did not let me down even when my tee shot on hole 14 hit a tree and came right back to the rough near the tee box, where Donna then had to hit it. Alternate shot means you had better play with someone understanding and who can laugh.  

"I could have spit I was so disappointed in my swing and inability to hit the golf ball more than 140 yards. It truly stunned my ego, which made me laugh to think that I had grown up to be just like the men who quit playing golf because they could no longer play to their great expectations."  Letty

My lower back continues to compress and twist as I age. The fall from the horse at age ten that first broke my tailbone, has been scarred over. Falls are nothing new to me, as I sought adventures across fences that were meant to keep children out. 

In my forties I fell on an ice-covered frozen asphalt road one winter's day when I was walking the dog. It took weeks of feeling bent and in agony to heal. It would take another fall on broken busted asphalt before I found physical therapy and at last some relief from back pain.  

The final blow may have been when I slid off "Stormy" the Buffalo. Luckily, James ran to my rescue and saved me from a broken back, but my tail bone felt too sore to sit on.  

Stormy the Bison, Sandy Springs Farms 

All of which reminds me that I have totally enjoyed my seventy-six years of living and have done my best to par-take in every adventure that has come my way. So, yes, I will go out all used up, but until I do, I still push and workout in hopes of swinging that golf club for one more time, one more month, one more year... 

Wait didn't I say earlier that I am learning to adapt? Yes, I am accepting that I cannot hit the ball as far as I would like, but I can hit my short irons straight down the middle without pain. Adapting and accepting take on many forms as we age. 

Clint Eastwood said, 

"You should never give up on your inner-self." 

Eastwood is ninety-four years old and has to deal with the inevitable aches and pains of age. He doesn't play as much as he used to, although he never stopped. Sometimes he indulges in a couple of holes, "just to take the ashes out of the embers and let the passion for the game crackle once again." 

**Clint Eastwood story

If and when the day comes that my back will no longer support a golf swing, I will turn to my inner child and find a way to playfully enjoy life.

 **footnote 9/28/24 I climbed into the pilot seat of a Boeing CH-47  Chinook ... and another  small plane at the Air Show. I laughed out loud at how difficult simple things had become, like sliding into a small pilot's seat or better yet figuring out how to climb out without falling all over myself. and bruising my legs.  The inner child is still there, but she is growing stiffer with the years. 

The Norse Stars on the Campaign Trail

 October 1952

 A Mystery Ensues. Can you solve it? 

Left to Right: Zierta Foust, Pat Neel, Georganna McBee, Shirley Berry, ?, Nancy Schaff Ferguson, Dorothy Draeger, ?   
The uniforms shown above were each made by Hildreth Patrick, mother of Virginia Lee Wilson and grandmother to Tom Pat and Dr. Bob Wilson. 

How ironic that, during this season of ferocious campaigning for the Presidency, I should be writing about politics that relate to 1952 in my hometown of Miami, Oklahoma and the drill team that made history in 1952 (and later in 1953 with a performance at the Jr. College Rose Bowl).

If it had not been for Nancy Schaff Ferguson, I never would have known this colorful piece of Oklahoma history. Nancy Schaff was a member of the Norse Star drill team in 1952-53. She danced in the precision drill team the first two years of it’s inception under the direction of Virginia Lee Wilson. Nancy’s folks, Bernie and Helen Schaff were also good friends of my parents, Johnie and Helen Stapp.

On a warm August afternoon in Tulsa, Oklahoma this beautiful woman appeared at the desk of the Oklahoma Golf Magazine where I was selling my tribute to golf history “The History of the Miami, Oklahoma Golf and Country Club 1914-1984.”

She introduced herself and our connection with the Miami Golf and Country club. Thirty minutes later she handed me her copy of the LIFE magazine October 27, 1952, with instructions to give it to the Dobson Museum in Miami. There begins our story.

As an original member of this precision drill team for NEO A&M junior college she re

membered the excitement they shared at being asked to perform for the Democratic rally in Oklahoma City for Adlai Stevenson’s visit.

Between 1908 and 1948 Oklahoma voted Democratic for all but two elections. In the late summer and fall of 1952 Dwight D. Eisenhower campaigned heavily throughout the old solid Democratic South in hopes of winning the election.

At this time in history (1952) the eleven states of the old Confederacy were lumped together as “the solid South” with 128 electoral votes for the Democratic party. However, there was a handful of vulnerable states for the Republicans to capture: Florida, South Carolina, Virginia, Texas, and Louisiana, Tennessee, and Alabama.

In his story, Robert T. Elson writes, "Oklahoma sat on the fringe of the Old South with "Little Dixie" known as the stronghold. The Democrats have remained loyal. The Oklahoma Democrats have energy and wealth on their side. Two Senators, Mike Monroney and Robert S. Kerr both energetically campaigned for Stevenson."

He goes on to write, "Even in 1948 when South Carolina's native son Strom Thurmond was running on the Dixiecrat ticket only 143,000 out of 480,000 registered voters went to the polls in November. But this year the Eisenhower invasion of the South has produced new highs in registration records and promises to bring out masses of new voters.

One voter explained, 'I am sick and tired of my vote being taken for granted. It is time for a change.'  In Ft. Worth 350 women representing 84 towns and cities paid their own way to attend a briefing on how to organize a precinct campaign." 

On November 4, 1952, Republican Dwight D. Eisenhower easily defeated Democrat Adlai E. Stevenson. (Southern states voting Republican were Virginia, Tennessee, Florida, Texas, and Oklahoma.)  

It is lost to history as to who invited the Norse Stars to perform at Stevenson’s speech in Oklahoma City and who renamed them, “Democratic Belles,"  for that occasion? What is known is that our hometown drill team took center stage and kicked those lovely long legs and white boots proudly into the air on an October day in 1952.

Here is what I know:

I have names for five of the women in the first picture but no order:  Shirley Berry, Gearyanna McBee, LaDonna...., Phyllis Berkey, and Nancy Schaff. 

Who might the other young women be?

Who invited the Norse Stars to perform in OKC?

Who changed their name to the "Democratic Belles."? Jordan Boyd from the Dobson Museum shared a photo from the NEO 1952-53 yearbook in which the Norse Stars are marching in the parade and the quote reads "A performance by the Belles of Oklahoma." We are wondering the "Democratic Belles" was used as a particular performance as to be politically generic and no assimilating the college in any way in the naming.

First row: 2nd from the left Lois Newton, mother of Karen Royalty.

Readers in the Rough Highlights

 Already this year, 2024, our book club has voted for one book that received a vocal unanimous vote. This book is a memorable ride through life in 1952 on the back of a horse. I couldn’t wait until January to give you this title. It is a must read for every woman young or old.

THE RIDE OF HER LIFE: THE TRUE STORY OF A WOMAN, HER HORSE, AND THEIR LAST-CHANCE JOURNEY ACROSS AMERICA by Elizabeth Letts.

Can you, in 2024, even imagine getting on a horse and traveling from the East coast to the West coast without a map, without a phone, no GPS, no relatives to contact in case of an emergency, and very little money? Then join Annie, Tarzan her brown gelding and her faithful mutt and begin the journey. I assure you that you will not be disappointed.

One book “The Thursday Murder Club”  by Richard Osman, intrigued the majority of us into reading all four published books in that series. For a light enjoyable series of murder mysteries filled with plot twists, character development, a setting in an “old folks home”  and a woman named Joyce who gives her two cents worth on a regular basis, you may decide to read all four books this fall. 

READERS IN THE ROUGH HIGHLIGHTS

A par rating must meet the following criteria: a solid plot showing person against person, person against self, person against society and/or person against nature. Beyond plot development it must show character changes, a theme or take away that we can discuss and understand, a point-of-view and voice that lends itself to telling the story. One underlining element is that it must be a worthy topic for our group. 

We then give the books a numerical rating:

1 bogey—does not meet the criteria but a few read it

2 par—meets the criteria 

3 birdie—meets the criteria for a par and creates a excellent discussion

4 eagle--meets the criteria for a par/birdie and is long remembered perhaps for different reasons, and highly recommended to others.

5 hole-in-one—meets the criteria above and rises to the top of expectations in plot, character development, theme and voice. This book will continue to be highly recommended to others.

2023 Highly rated books

One book received a “Hole-in-One” or 5 points and nearly a standing ovation—

LESSONS IN CHEMISTRY by Bonnie Garmus.

https://www.bonniegarmus.com/lessons-in-chemistry

Five books received overwhelming agreement for an “eagle” or 4 points:

REMARKABLY BRIGHT CREATURES by Shelby Van Pelt

MAD HONEY by Jodi Picoult and Jennifer Finney Boylan

THE MARRIAGE PORTRAIT by Maggie O’Farrell

LADY TAN’S CIRCLE OF WOMEN by Lisa See

TOM LAKE by Ann Patchett

The MAGNIFICIENT LIVES OF MARJORIE MERRIWEATHER POST received the biggest mix of votes : 3 voted for a Par, 3 voted a Birdie, 2 voted an Eagle, and 2 voted it a Hole-in-One. In the end, it received a “birdie” rating.

 

2022 Highly rated books.

No book received the highest rating in 2022. However, we did discuss and try to persuade one and another to vote this book as a hole-in-one. In the end, our votes added up to an “Eagle” rating for--

THE LINCOLN HIGHWAY by Armor Towles

Curiously enough “9” novels received a BIRDIE rating which is still quite a compliment to the authors.  Our readings took us from Africa to the Pink City of Jaipur India; from Nebraska to NYC; Oxford, England, to Iceland; Paris and to Bombay; the Sunset Strip in LA to J.P. Morgan’s vast library in NYC.

These novels received a “birdie” rating:

THE HENNA ARTIST by Alka Joshi

THE NO.1 LADIES’ DETECTIVE AGENCY by Alexander McCall Smith

THE DICTIONARY OF LOST WORDS by Pip Williams

MEET ME IN BOMBAY by Jenny Ashcroft

DAISY JONES AND THE SIX by Taylor Jenkins Reid

THE SECRETS OF THE SPRAKKAR by Eliza Reid

THE PERSONAL LIBRARIAN by Marie Benedict and Victoria Murray

A MOVEABLE FEAST by Ernest Hemingway

THE PARIS WIFE by Paula McLain

 

2021 Highly rated books.

THE FOUR WINDS by Kristin Hannah received a ‘hole-in-one” vote with one person voting it a par because the ending was so very difficult. Sometimes stories of the Dust Bowl and the Great Depression strike too close to our hearts.

The “eagle” ratings went to:

THE ROSE CODE by Kate Quinn

 

2020 Highly rated books.

LILAC GIRLS by Martha Hall Kelly received a “hole-in-one” rating.

Two book received an ‘eagle” rating:

THE TEA GIRL OF HUMMINGBIRD LANE BY Lisa See

THE DUTCH HOUSE by Ann Patchett

 

2019 Highly rated books.

No book received a “hole-in-one” rating.

Three books received an “eagle” rating:

BEFORE WE WERE YOURS by Lisa Wingate

THE ONLY WOMAN IN THE ROOM by Marie Benedict

NEXT YEAR IN HAVANA by Chanel Cleeton

 

2018 Highly rated books

BENEATH A SCARLET SKY by Mark Sullivan

A GENTLEMAN IN MOSCOW by Amor Towles

Two books received an “eagle” rating:

EDUCATED by Tara Westover

KILLERS OF THE FLOWER MOON by David Grann

 

Between 2015—2017 I joined two book clubs and devoured some griping novels, some of which come under the new heading of “literary fiction.”

For more information on these books click here: Intriguing Readings  https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/7852702753078267542/4116389582679811196