Reflections on Our Past

 Reflections....on Our Past  

written for the Norman Transcript by Frances Barker Maynard, edited by Letty Stapp Watt

1900's Norman, Oklahoma

My father, Bland C. Barker, came to Norman in 1902 and started the Barker Lumber Company. It was just east of Cleveland County Courthouse, on the land which is now the Security National Bank drive-in, between East Comanche and Eufaula on South Peters Street.

He had a team of horses and a large "dray" to deliver lumber around the town and in the country--all roads were dirt (and MUD after any amount of rain). Two men were hired to help in the lumber yard, in delivering lumber, and to do some building.

My mother, Lucy McKittrick, was a school teacher at Jefferson School.

Eastside School grades 1-12 built in 1894. In 1909 when the new Norman High School opened on the corner of E. Gray and Ponca (facing the south) they renamed Eastside to be Jefferson school grades 1-8. This building burned mysteriously in 1914. The new building opened 1916. 

One fall, the Norman Chamber of Commerce held a contest. The young girls of the community were to represent the different business--literally. Mother was assigned the Barker Lumber Company. 

She didn't know Mr. Barker, and he didn't know Miss McKittrick. So, it was with some misgivings, that Mother went down to the lumber yard to see if there was something she could use in making a costume.

Daddy was very helpful. He brought out tar paper and bangles, strips of color charts, and different shapes and sizes of wood blocks.

Mother took these home, and fashioned a beautiful and very unique costume. On the bottom of the long black dress, she made a flared border from the tar paper, and decorated it with the bangles. Around the collar and down the front of the waist, she sewed the strips of color charts. She also used these strips to make a tiara to wear on her hair. She made a belt, using the wood blocks, to wear around her waist.

The night of the contest, my mother, according to my father, was radiant--with her brown eyes and black hair, and her beautiful costume. She carried a stand-up placard with read, "Barker Lumber Company." 

She was the Winner!

Needless, to say, about a year later, Mother and Daddy were married, but not until Bland C. Barker attended the World Series and Fair in St. Louis in 1904. 

Six children were born to the union: Hermione, Clarence, Frances, Norman, Forrest and Jack. 

***

The reflection closes with the children's names but continues with a little research. The saddest story is that Lucy's son, Norman fought in WWII and is listed as MIA. 

Frances' mother, Lucy McKittrick, was hired to teach at Eastside school in June 1902. The Norman Transcript 1902.2.6 published those receiving teacher certificates. 

I do not know how long Lucy continued to teach at Jefferson. Her daughter, Frances Barker, attended many social events in Norman and Oklahoma City where she played the piano and sang for the audiences. She was a highly talented musician. Frances graduated from the University of Oklahoma in 1940 with a degree in music.

In the 1980's Terri Street was hired to teach music at Jefferson Elementary. Terri went on to become a media specialist/librarian for the Norman Public Schools until retirement. She and I remain great friends from our teaching years at Jefferson.

When I saw the last name Maynard, I remembered that Terri had relatives with that last name. One phone call later and we realized that Terri was related to that lovely radiant Lucy McKittrick who began teaching on the same landsite nearly 80 years before.

Terri writes: Frances Alice Barker of Norman married my Granddaddy's older brother, Louis Jackson Maynard. They lived in Norman for many years where she later taught school. Louis, the historian and professor taught at OU and wrote several books on our state's history. They raised two adopted children, and bought a rural property at Wetumka, Ok after Louis retired. They both lived long and happy lives and I remember them well. He loved to write and tell stories, and she loved to sing, play music, and make others laugh. 

It's a small world, isn't it?

We are the Jefferson Dragons. We symbolize "Power, Wisdom, and Chaos." Right now, we are sorting through the chaos and laughing...laughing and loving every moment of the research expedition into our history. 

Letty Watt, Jefferson Historian

1908--1994 Their Friendship Endured

Boys will be boys whether it is 1909 or 2025. In this photo the arrow is drawn to a young boy named Roscoe Thompson. Whether he was a close neighbor, a friend who teased the girls (my guess), or an ornery kid, we will never know. What we do know is that in the two photos donated by Nellie Beavers Childs in 1993, either she or Roscoe drew an arrow pointing to him, not to Nellie and not to her lifelong best friend, Metaline. What does this tell you?

I had the opportunity to interview Nellie in 1993 at her apartment on Hal Muldrow Dr. in Norman. Her is a portion of her story.

In second grade class we had Miss Callie Webster who was a beautiful 18-year-old teacher. We loved her.  One day it was snowing and we were standing by Miss Webster's desk when she asked the girl next to me how she kept her hair in curls all day. The girl answered, "My mother puts something sweet on it every day." The teacher felt her curls and sure enough they were stiff. 

1908 Eastside School (Jefferson). Look for arrow in the top right hand corner and then see the photo of a young boy named Roscoe Thompson. Roscoe was a friend of Nellie Beavers Childs, the lady who donated this picture to Jefferson for our 1994 for our Centennial. 

1909-1910 2^nd grade JEFFERSON SCHOOL (Nellie Beavers Child) Pictures

Teacher: Callie Webster

Row 1: boy,  Metaline Cathey, lived on N.E. corner of Finley and Gray. They had a store in one room selling tablets, pencils, etc. boy, girl, girl, Agnes Wolf (McComb)  and Thelma Walker.

Row 2: (did not identify which one) Chester Capshaw, son of one of our first doctors. 7^th person Marion Moffett. Her father ran a bicycle shop in 200 block of Main on North Finley street. Next Robert Durkie; next Otis Sullivant.

Row 3: 1^st girl Martha Lee McComb, 2nd girl Nellie Beavers, 7^th person Aubrey Davis, 12^th Roscoe Thompson, ___, 13^th head of Addie Wilson. 

I enrolled in first grade in 1908 even though I was only five years old. I could already read. The neighbors said I couldn't go because I wasn't six years old. My brother said, "I'll put the number 5 in your shoe and if your teacher asks you, you can say you're over 5 years old." My teacher never did ask. I think Miss Cook knew because she was a friend of our family.

Every morning, at noon and during recess our janitor sat at the top of the stairs, and he would hand sharpen our pencils using his knife. One pencil at a time. We didn't have pencil sharpeners.  In the morning he stood at the top of the stairs to see if any students were still running to school. If he saw any children he waited to ring the tardy bell till the last students were in the room. 

*Look closely at the photo. Roscoe drew an arrow from the chalkboard to the third row of boys. He is looking at the camera and has his elbow on the desk behind on top of books. 

We didn't have programs in the school like we do now. The only thing I remember is the Maypole dance in the school yard. Some students were selected from each class to wind the Maypole on May Day. 

Out of our first-grade class there were at least ten who graduated with me in 1920. I know five of them taught school.  In second grade we had seatmates, but I guess we talked too much, and the teacher moved one of us out of the seat and put a boy in our place. I had to move and sit with a different boy. I thought it was great because the boy she put me with I knew from church, but he didn't like it (I wonder if this was Roscoe?). None of the boys liked having a girl for a seatmate. 

I lived on the corner of Findley and Apache, about four blocks south of Main Street. The house is still there. My mother lived there when she was a widow with two little children. She married again and that's when I was born. 

In second grade I still had the same seatmate, but I guess we talked too much, and the teacher moved one of us out of the seat with a boy and put that boys seat mate with Marie. I thought that was great because the boy she put me with I knew from church, but he didn’t like it. The boys didn’t like having a girl for a seatmate. 

I grew up when Norman just had dirt streets. Then later they paved Main Street and University Street. I can remember my brother putting us both on a bicycle and going over to University street to ride on the paved road. I mostly played boys games because of my brother. He taught me how to play Mumble Peg, a game where you learn to throw a knife. I also played marbles and spin the tops.

When I was in the 4^th grade they commenced a basketball team. I think it was the 8^th grade girls. I never did see the boys play. Of course, the only people they played against was Washington. Washington and Jefferson, well they didn’t get along.

“Now these are girls?” I inquired.

Yes, on a girls team. They had to play outdoors. This would have been seventh and eighth grade girls.

I remember that they played against Washington school. It was terrible the rival between the two schools. It continued in high school so that they hardly mixed in high school. 

My last two years of high school a new course was put in called "teachers training." We had to teach all of the 8th grade teaching and many hours of observation. We had to take notes and come back to our teacher and tell her. If they needed a teacher in Eastside (Jefferson) they would send one of us. Six out of twenty of us went on to teach the next year after we graduated. 

They gave us a fake teaching certificate to begin with. If we taught for three years and went to summer school we earned a LIFE certificate. 

*Note: this is the new Norman High School opened in 1909 when Eastside school had outgrown the classrooms. It is the picture in the background of Nellie Beavers graduation picture. 

*The Moore-Lindsay House Museum has pictures from early year books online and I discovered that Roscoe, Metaline, and Nellie each graduated from Norman High School in 1920.

My first teaching job was to finish out a term in a sixth grade class in Muskogee. I discovered I didn't like that at all. Then I moved to Paden and taught high school English and Spanish. My principal said I had to teach Economics. I told him No and said, "Can't you teach it?"  His reply was a headshaking negative stare. So I had to teach Economics and study the night before each class to stay ahead of them. 

I taught several years before moving to Pittsburg, another coal mining town where I met my husband. We moved around with his job in the mines and I taught at Shawnee, Seminole, Wewoka, and Sayre.

At last we moved back to Norman and I taught at Norman High School where I retired in 1965.  

As with retirement, our story does not end here. No more mention of Roscoe in

her interview, nor does she talk about Metaline.

However, in the spring of 1994 Nellie Beavers Childs was accompanied by her

daughter and attended our 100 year celebration of Jefferson school. During that time she brought an oil painting done by her lifelong friend, Metaline Cathey Lee.

Ten years ago the librarian gave me this picture and said, "I think you know this lady and her story."

**Metaline writes in her own handwriting on the back of this canvas: This painting was done for my friend since first grade, Nellie Beavers Childs. The painting shows hibiscus blooming in Mrs. Cathy's yard in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas. Mrs. Childs spent winters in the Valley after she retired as a Norman High School teacher in 1965. 

And so, it has taken me from 1994 to 2025 to put all of these pieces together. Rest in peace Nellie, Metaline, and Roscoe. You made our world and better place to live, especially for the children in Norman, Ok. 

4/6/2025 The following stories come from my Facebook post about Nellie Childs:

I had Nellie Childs at Norman High School in the 1960's and loved here. Jane Ash Yearout

My sophomore English teacher at NHS and she was quite a lady! Vaughn Clark

I was a student of Mrs. Childs, also.  Judy Matlock

I had her for Sophomore English in 1960. As for Roscoe Thompson he was a former mayor and Bob Thompson's (Midway Deli) grandfather. He was also an uncle to my lifetime friends Patti and Jerry Nolan and Jim and Barbara Sellers. The Thompson's are a huge family and some of Norman's finest.  David Fries. 

We are the Jefferson Dragons. We symbolize "Power, Wisdom, and Chaos." Right now, we are sorting through the chaos and laughing...laughing and loving every moment of the research expedition into our history. 

Mrs. Watt, Librarian and author

From Blue Skies to Blue Seas: Traveling the World in 2025

Isn't life grand when we have opportunities to travel, especially free airfare overseas. This winter I took a three day 4 night excursion to Scotland without my golf clubs, to see the Locks on the western side of Scotland, knowing it was too cold to see Nessie, if she even exists.

One remote island intrigued me because we could only access it at low tide, when the road stretched from this low meandering isle to the mainland. We only had a few days to view the return of the seals and maybe Nessie, but before searching for the seals I heard a story.

A story of a beautiful woman, an artist named Vanessa, who once lived by herself on a remote island sometimes clouded and covered with icy fog. The seas often kept the color blue at bay and the skies remain gray. Access to the island was denied for 12 hours each day. When the tide was low there was a gap of about six hours when we could drive across the channel. 

Several of us hiked the hills and touched the ancient trees, climbing over the fallen debris was heavy and hateful winter storms. There we found the cottage, the barn, and the studio where Vanessa, the artist, once lived. Her paintings showed the seasons changes and the skies turning from blues  to grays to blacks. Her landscapes made her famous with shows from Edinburgh, London and Paris.  

One reviewer wrote: She paints the sunrise over the hill of fiery orange to a rich yolky yellow.  Ahead, the tide is high, the channel molten gold.  Then slowly gradually the color begins to leach away, the clouds mellowing, now pale, orange, now primrose, the sky, finally settling on a clear and hopeful blue.

Those were the lines that drew me to this island, in search of that blue hour. 

It was Vanessa's love life and sexual desires that created the scandal. The greater the scandal, the greater the interest in her paintings, then her ceramics, and sculptures uniquely staring at the public daring one to see the bones of the dead.

 

Lore has it that the early inhabitants of the west coast of Scotland, buried their dead on the island, so the wolves would not dig up the bones and souls of loved ones. 

  

In Scotland, the land, even her island, comes under the law of "right to roam." The public, like me, could cross the channel and hike the woods and trails without permission from the owner. We wanted to see the place, to stand there and image.  

Vanessa's notes read like she had won the lottery when at last she made enough money to buy the island of her dreams, of her retreats, of her distancing from others. Her husband, however, stole from her and sold her paintings and porcelain on the mainland of Europe to give him spending money that allowed him to lure wealthy ladies to his bed. 

Ironically, it was a fall, a broken wrist that changed the course of her life. A woman doctor from Scotland came her rescue. After setting the broken wrist, the doctor realized that her patient could not drive home with the broken wrist. Being a logical and caring devoted doctor to the healing of others, she offered to drive this beautiful woman home, along with a week's supply of food. 

For over twenty-years this doctor became a friend, a protector who tried to shield Vanessa from the public's eye. The island, alone by itself, seemed to be enough to offer protection, but their space had been invaded by a foul intruder, who's only intention was rape.

The artist, caught off guard, had no chance against a predator. The fisherman from the nearby village, who had admired her beauty from a distance forced his way into her studio that day. With Vanessa's arm twisted, in pain, she screamed. Suddenly, the man collapsed to his knees and began to pull at a wire now wrapped around his neck and choking him to death. 

The good doctor had delivered food that day and heard the scream from the studio near the top of the ridge. Not intending to kill, or so the story goes, she skillfully held the hold painfully chocking and terrifying the man.

Fear began to set into the artist's mind. The artist craved for aloneness and at last pushed and shoved the doctor out of her life. Over time the husband returned for sexual pleasures and the need for money to support his lifestyle. 

Another scandal occurred when the husband disappeared after a weekend on the island. His wallet later floated up near shore where a fisherman brought it in with his net. The red race car was never found. He had vanished.

It was the bones, that crept into the story twisting the lives of people who crossed over the line, the tidal .....

Somehow, over time Vanessa had found bones. The same bones that held a story together none the less. These bones now caught the attention of the art world, twisting this story one more time and leaving the listeners and readers one more death to resolve. Sitting at the bar that evening, no one shared the ending. 

My trip was short and fast. It lasted only three days on the island but it was FREE. The entire trip, the hiking, the bones, story with only the sound of seals in the background, no Nessie.  If you'd like to travel the world this winter like I do, for free, the public library offers free travel guides in nearly every book from romance and mystery novels to non-fiction, along with maps, and history.  

This trip was brought to life by Paula Hawkins in her recent novel The Blue Hour. 

 

 

Back in the 1900's I...

    

My sister, Jonya, and I recently discovered that when we want to share our childhood stories, how we raised our kids, or even teaching career stories that we could start with this line, "Back in the 1900's I did...." It seems to catch the attention of the audience or person facing us.

The funny thing about the 1900's is that it is the PAST and the PAST is like another country. How can we relate?

For instance:

The Norman Transcript carried this story on January 1904.

A Norman  woman walked into the Silver Cliff saloon where her husband was under the influence of drink and invited the men standing around to step up and have something to drink. Instead, the men began to slink off and soon the saloon was almost deserted. The woman brought some sewing with her and expressing herself delighted with the appearance of the place by giving every indication that she might have come to spend the day. 

I can imagine the Tik Tok viewers yelling "You Go Girl." 

 

And then there are the mysterious things that happened in the 1900's, like the barrel of wine that was seized by the county Sheriff from the Catholic Church in Norman. That barrel of wine later turned up missing from the Sheriff's office. Now what could have happened to that sacramental wine?

In 1925 the Miami, Ok News Record gives bold print to this story:

"Large Rural Crowd Hears Girl Preacher"

Miss Ora Stoddard, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. J.P. Stoddard, 39 C street northwest, delivered a sermon Sunday night at the Sunflower school house, two miles east of Welch, Oklahoma.

A large congregation was present, it was reported. About fifteen persons from Miami drove out to hear Miss Stoddard, who is one of the youngest ordained ministers in Oklahoma. 

On September 18, 1925, the Miami News Record (AP) posted a headlines story from New York City:

"Ten Days in Jail for Disrespect to Flag" 

For failure to remove his hat in salute to the flag, John Granetzer, a young Lithuanian, is serving a sentence of 10 days in a Brooklyn jail. He pleaded guilty of disorderly conduct while watching a Mardi Gras parade at Coney Island. Coney gives the name of Mardi Gras to a post season celebration. 

A police sergeant in his complaint averred that when other spectators told him that Granetzer was ignoring the flag, warning was given that his hat must be taken off the next time the flag passed. Granetzer failed to obey the warning, saying, "my flag is the red flag," the sergeant deposed. 

The following June 28, 1958 story in The Daily Oklahoma comes from stories being circulated in the Biltmore hotel by some of the 150 delegates to the Grapho-Analysis regional convention.

Writing Reflects Your Personality

On the basis of certain curlicues in his handwriting, an applicant for a job with an Oklahoma City firm recently was turned down. He wasn't told why, but a specimen of his handwriting showed he had criminal tendencies.

Sure enough, a couple of months later, the fellow was sent up for a stretch in the state penitentiary at McAlester.

Then there was another prison inmate who wrote a letter to a certain philanthropist here pleading for help in gaining his freedom. The letter ended up in the hands of a graphic analyst, a person who analyses handwriting, who found that the writer not only lacked criminal characteristics but had considerable musical ability. 

On the strength of the grapho-analyst's report, the convict gained his release from prison and is currently strumming a guitar with a hill-billy band.

My biggest surprise came with this one quarter page add in 1920’s for a new soda called “Dr. Pepper.” The picture of the old man and the clock showing 10:00, 2:00, and 4:00 gave reason to “Join the Club” and have a Dr. Pepper.

I discovered Dr. Pepper the friendly picker upper while going to college. I think we will put a Dr. Pepper label on my tombstone.

It’s here folks! The big day you’ve been waiting for. Cold, zippy, Dr. Pepper right over the soda fountain or bottle bar. March right up...pay 5 cents…ask for Dr. Pepper and you’ll be a confirmed member of the 10,2 & 4 Club for life.

Everybody’s joining! Every member’s happy! For here’s a drink that hits the spot, and makes the spot stay hit. Girls and men need one at ten. Another’s due, when the clock strikes two, and just at four you need one more.

Wise ones never miss these hours. They say 3-a-day, keeps the energy up…We say it’s nourishment. You N E E D a little bracer at mid-meal hours. Dr. Pepper give it to you in pre-digested form…pure nourishment that is quickly assimilated into the blood. That’s why you feel distinctly refreshed after drinking.

Pure as distilled water, sparkly as a bubbling spring. Licious as mingled juices of fruits and extracts from the Orient and Tropics. 

 

**Footnote** Are they hiding the sugar in the word licious?

In reality back in the 1900's for me begins with American Band Stand and perhaps that's another story. 

 

This Older But Curious Life

Isn't it fun living this older but curious life? 

If COVID taught me anything it was to be playful, not on occasions but everyday. Finding a way to be playful in my life is the easiest aspiration in my life.

Rather than looking at the old woman in the mirror and wondering where the bags under her eyes came from,  I learned to put on makeup everyday, whether I went for a walk or not, whether I might see people or not, whether the mask covered it all or not. I was the one looking in the mirror. 

COVID was a time ago, but recently the bitter cold winter weather has kept many of us inside for more days than we wish to count. Now is the time to search for hearts and flowers not dust and piles of books.

Once again I turned to my jewelry box for color and the light-hearted feelings of playing dress up. I have one pair of mis-matched earrings given to me by Kathy Klopenstein Hale. She is "a jewelry artist" and daughter of my friend and neighbor, Julie, 
who is a landscape artist on canvas. They, each,  have decorated their homes to reflect their curiosities of life and wonder. 

Side by side the earrings are definitely different but with a face in between people only notice the colors.

It's all about perspective and internal laughter. Her jewelry makes me laugh. She might call them 'stunning statements.'

 

This may not show the colors of a Farris Wheel but the unique design is eye-catching for the wearer and the observer. Is this an 'awesome assemblage' or 'steampunk style?'

Matching jewelry likes this brings out a balance that our eyes often seek in presentation and our hearts seek in life. Kathy calls this 'mid-century mod madness.' I laugh at my memories of that other century--a few decades ago.

Sometimes we only want to make a simple statement like I have a secret  I may share with you if....

Find this gem under "Neo-Victorian Niceties."

Today the sun is shiny and bright in my corner room. From my perch by  the window green stems standing tall in the brown leaves tell me that the daffodil bulbs have survived the bitter cold. Before long bright yellow colors will fill our garden and shades of green will be highlighted by the golden sun. That's how I see her jewelry, as an extension of myself and my curiosity.

How do you see jewelry? How long has it been since you played dress up?

Lucky for me, I can call ahead and drive over to her house to browse her art room for a new unique piece. You can browse her jewelry and clothing designs without ever leaving your comfy chair and warm blanket by following this link to By Kat Designs

 

Detective Who? Watt?

Does anyone other than myself remember the fatal crash of a P38 Lightning airplane crashing north of Jefferson grade school? (Glenn Smith  on Facebook)

February 2020 was the last date of my files on Jefferson Elementary (Norman, Ok.) history before Covid. 

During Covid I made a promise to finish my Miami Ok. Golf and Country Club history story, and I did. That also meant that I could not concentrate on two aspects of history at the same time, even though I continued to collect trivia and newspaper clippings about Norman and Jefferson. This history brain doesn't forget when there is an unsolved question.

What parachute? Where did it land? Why can no one find an answer? 

That question hung in the back of my historical, sometimes hysterical, brain until January of 2025. 

Notice the treeless prairie in this 1894 original landsite of Eastside school, later renamed Jefferson in 1916 after the building mysteriously burned to the ground, and was replaced. 

It took until January 2025 before a small team of teachers could once again gather to complete a project started in 1984--to finish the history of the original landsite school in Norman, Oklahoma where I was the librarian. With the help from Dr. Kathy Taber, Sallie Kennedy and Carol Upchurch we have a plan in place to compile and publish this fascinating time in Norman, Oklahoma. 

Jefferson is the original landsite school with enough history to fill a thick book. Like other buildings of its time, 1894, the three-story structure was known to lean and wobble with spring winds of Oklahoma. The first floor of stone work came out of the Rock Creek bed north of this landsite on the corner of East Gray and Cockrell. 

It housed grades 1-12. After statehood, Norman began to grow and needed more classroom space.  In 1914 this thinly clad red brick and stone building mysteriously burned to the ground by some bad people.  A sturdier structure was built and opened for classrooms in 1916. The north and south wings of that structure still stand and have been reconfigured several times over the decades. 

This is the only picture we have found of the structure from 1918--1958 when the middle part was torn down leaving the north and south wings. The playground would have been a large area behind and surrounding this building and very few houses on the north side which is the right side of this picture. 

From research in 2019 through elicited memories on Facebook about The History of Norman, I copied this paragraph: 1944 Lee Hester--That information puts me back to 7th grade in Jefferson school where I imagined seeing a parachute coming down. 

For the last few weeks I have read over nearly everything we have collected and found nothing about that parachute. My handwritten note to self, read, "Where is the rest of this story? It was collected in 2019?" 

Recently, I discovered how to research on Facebook. It is not that easy but better than sitting for hours at the Ok. History Museum Archives reading microfilm. 

At last I found this clip on The History of Norman on Facebook.

The replies meandered for days and weeks. Piece by piece I found significant proof that Mr. Hester must have seen a parachute falling from the sky.  Here is the rest of the story.

Debbie 

My dad wad a little boy and he would tell us stories about a plane crash about 1945, but was north of Wilson school. North of Robinson. His mom let his older brother walk up to see it, but said my dad was to young. My uncle found what looked like the tongue of a boot with blood on it. We have tried to research but can never find anything.

Thomas 

If it is the one that crashed during the war where the copilot was riding piggyback and didn’t reject. I remember my mom and I were on the main street by the Palace garage and vaguely remember hearing about that at that time. Didn’t know where it crashed. I was only about three or four years old.

 Glenn Smith

At the time of the crash a parachute was seen descending so one of the pilots did eject. The reason that I said that it was a fatal accident was because a friend and I rode our bicycles out to view the crash site after the authorities had done their thing and we found Little Things like a label out of a sweater collar and actually some flesh. After a fatal crash medical people gather up the bodies and everything else as well they can but they don't get everything. Many years ago I went on a crash investigation of a B-52 in New York state. The plane was flying at low level over a landing strip when something went wrong, and it crashed into the woods and burned. Most of the crew perished but the copilot managed to survive. When we went through the debris looking for technical evidence for the cause of crash, I found a hand with a wrist watch still around the wrist. 

Thomas F.  to Glenn Smith

I think I think what I remember is correct… That a guy riding piggyback was not able to reject and died in the crash. 

Steve 

I remember talking to a retired Norman firefighter in the early 1970's. He told me that he was at the P-38 crash in 1945-46 He said that the plane had crashed nose first in to the ground at the edge of a small pond and left a big smoking hole in the ground. He told me that 2 men were killed in the crash, me being a smart 11 year old boy I let the gentleman know that the P38 was a single seat aircraft. He told me that the plane was at Tinker AFB for some work and had the radio equipment removed from behind the pilots seat. This made just enough room for the pilots buddy to hitch that final ride. I recall the plane that crashed was the F-4 version, of the P-38E in which the guns were replaced by four K17 cameras. It was not ever clear to me where the plane crash was.

Larry 

I think the P-38 crash you are talking about happened on May 4th or 5th, 1945. The crash site was on my Great Grandparent's farm on the SE corner of Tecumseh Rd. and NE 12th (Sooner Rd). The plane went into a small pond and supposedly the engines areas still buried there. My dad saw it go down from Moore.

Bill Lessly to Larry

The pond was on the south side of NE Rock Creek Road between 12th and 24th. My Dad told me about the crash. I used to swim in that pond back in the 1970’s. The crash happened 11 years before I was born. Our farm was 3 or so miles NE from the pond.

Apparently, Glenn Smith felt as frustrated over this crash info as I did. He used the Daily Oklahoma and found the story, the true story about the parachute high in the sky that the kids saw one day while they were outside playing at Jefferson. The parachute would have landed about two miles north of the school grounds. In 1944 there would not have been big neighborhoods of houses, cars, buildings to the north.

PLANE CRASH KILLS

WILL ROGERS FLIER 

January 21, 1944 the Daily Oklahoman 

Crash of a P-38 one and one-half miles northeast of Norman,  Thursday morning fatally injured Lt. Harry G. Kirk, 22 of New York City. The plane burst into flames and was destroyed. Col. B.S. Thompson, commanding officer of Will Rogers field announced.  

Capt. Vernon E. Black, Madera, Calif. parachuted to safety and sustaining only slight bruises and minor shock. Capt. Black's temporary home is at 2014 N.W. 12.

Cause of the crash was being investigated Thursday night by a board of air force officers. Kirk's mother, Mrs. Frances Kirk of New York City, was notified of her son's death.

 

**At this point I jumped up and hollered at my husband. I know where the plane crashed in 1944. It's only a few miles from here.  

I do take breaks away from the computer and it felt good to share my mystery with my husband and then to romp with the dog outside and laugh. 

Lonnie Morris

Hey Glenn, I remember the incident. Our teachers at Jefferson took us outside so that we could see the man in the parachute still on his way down.  

Lockheed P-38 website and credit for photo 

Lee Hester, thanks for your research (Glenn Smith) and the good information. That clears up some things in my mind. The newspaper puts the date at 1944. which puts me back to 7th grade in Jefferson grade school. All the time that I have been thinking about this incident, I have imagined seeing a parachute coming down, but I thought it was my imagination. In a post by Lonnie Morris, he said that he was in Jefferson school when that happened and they took the students outside to watch the parachute coming down. That makes it possible that I really did see a parachute. 

We are the Jefferson Dragons. We symbolize "Power, Wisdom, and Chaos." Right now, we are sorting through the chaos and laughing...laughing and loving every moment of the research expedition into our history. 

Mrs. Watt, Librarian and author

 1978-95