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.

Vanity is Sanity

Dance Recital at the Coleman Theater.

All these many years my legs have pulled me through the

  times of growing pains and comparisons.

A Twiggy or Brook Shields I will never be.

When pimples and body fat appeared on my body,

  I winced and groaned as I looked in the mirror.
Sighing heavily, I shaved my legs while humming:

     

     “What the world needs now is love sweet love.

     It’s the only thing that there’s just too little of…”

                                 Lyrics by Burt Bacharach and Hal David

                                   What the World Needs Now (click to hear the music) 

USGA Jr. Girls Championship. 

  
Through childhood and college years these legs kicked and danced in recitals and drill teams.

They walked golf courses and campuses supporting golf clubs or books.

During the decades of raising kids, it was my legs that pushed me forward,
  that withstood days when I felt like buckling.
Our family Saturday outings took us to the Duck Pond where we jogged
  around the workout/walking path or ran the track,
Teaching our children the importance of commitment to fresh air and
  movement.
My legs glistened in the summer heat,

  reminding me that they held me fast to the ground, like roots of the trees.

Watching a lengthy downhill putt on #6 at Oakwood CC, Enid. 

For a decade I wore short skirts, just to show off my legs,
  a mere glance at my vanity. 

The next few decades I wore mid-length skirts and shorts, but by my fifties
  my knock knees caved inward, my feet gave out

  with arches falling and toes twisting.

What’s a girl to do?

"Vanity is sanity," the older women told me when I was young.

 I began to understand.

 

I dared myself in my sixties to wear skorts on the golf course,

  and sometimes felt self-conscious when I bent over to line up a putt.

I looked around and gained confidence watching women carry themselves

  proudly on the golf course in stylish clothing.

Vanity is sanity, I began to see it in their faces and posture.

Letty and Dawn laughing and posing in
 Bitch Wings at Belmar CC. 

One day, as I danced a step of joy after making a lengthy putt, my left heal 

  kicked my right shin bone, oh ouch!

It bruised immediately showing a bold blood red and purple splotch. 

  What happened?

Another day my dog pawed me with affection leaving a streak of dark

  red bruising down my leg, the next day it was my arms that bruised.

The decades were showing signs of aging, my skin was no longer lush 

  and rich with collagen. 

Don't they make a pill for this, I screamed in my head.
  It was pills for back pain that thinned the skin!

Vanity is sanity. Now I understand.

No defeat for a woman who walks with confidence.

     “I am woman hear me roar….

      You can bend but never break me

      ‘Cause it only serves to make me

      More determined to achieve my final goal

      And I come back even stronger

      Not a novice any longer

      Cause you’ve deepened the conviction in my soul.”

                                             Lyrics by Helen Reddy and Ray Burton

                                               I Am Woman (click to hear the music) 

There are clothes for this:  fitted pants still show the legs but not the scars.

These legs of mine stand strong but bruised.

  I work them out regularly at the gym keeping my posture upright.

Then treat them with tender loving care and lotions galore both night and day.

Vanity is sanity. Now I understand.

MHS Class of 65, Letty and Donna dancing the golf rock and roll. 

How long these legs will carry me, is one of the mysteries of our lives.

I can't prevent the effects of aging but I can love who I am.

Heading into the grays of the approaching winter days and decades,

  I am proud to be a Baby Boomer breaking in another decade.

Now I understand. Loving yourself is not vanity, it is sanity.

Glancing out to the North Sea off the coast of Scotland. 

Miami Memories: Norse Stars

Oh, such bitter cold blowing snow outside. The shivering little birds are lined up on my south window ledges hovering out of the storm. Their heads bobbing up and down create an appearance of conversations from facebook. "Golly, can you believe this wind."
"Why didn't we go South for the winter?"
"Too late now, we can't see past the bushes."
"I was too hungry to sleep in. Now here I am foraging for food on the ground."
"What about a zumba or a line dance to stay warm?"

Then just like that they danced, fluttered about and took off. Maybe it's warmer down under the bushes where I stashed their food.

Three Norse Stars who danced in the cold: 
 Letty Watt , Charlotte Rosier, Cindi Lillard

Now I sit and shiver even with a heater at my feet. The cold just seeps in through the glass. Fetching a blanket for my shoulders helped conjure up a frigid memory of being a member of the Norse Stars drill team at NEO A&M.

We were a proud college drill team of well figured young girls. Virginia Lee Wilson worked us hard so we'd be proud to wear the costumes of leotards, tights, vest, fringed skirts, boots, topped with white felt hats on the football fields, basketball courts, or in parades. Our performances took us to such great cities as Coffeyville, KS, Hutchinson, KS, Trinidad, CO, Lawton, OK, and Kilgore, TX. Winter storms during football season or Christmas parades only served to make our performances and travels more memorable. We danced for the big shows at Christmas: Miami, OK; Vinita, OK; Joplin, MO; Seneca, MO.

The college dressed us well in costumes of blue and gold, or for special shows our white Indian guise. One Christmas parade in the tiny town of Seneca we marched in our Indian Headdress costumes. The white feathers on the headdresses were old then and oh, so very fragile. We truly handled them with loving care and only placed them on our heads moments before our lineup. Each of us held our heads high proudly strutting and supporting a full regalia of white Indian feathers that trailed down our backs nearly to the ground. Our white leotards were the base for a highly decorated fringed vest and skirt that didn't cover much. Tan hose covered our bare legs and a pair of socks protected our feet in those golden tasseled white boots.

But on this particular Saturday morning Mrs. Sandmire and other mothers followed our bus to Seneca to help us dress for the bitter winds. It was the invention of saran wrap, laundry cleaner plastic bags, and cellophane that saved our skins and allowed us to march that day.

Oh, what a scene that bus must have been as sixty girls unwrapped themselves from the heavy blue/gold woolen blankets, pulling down leotards and hose, exposing already cold body parts to the world inside the bus. With the help of a few mothers we, one by one, began to wrap each other in clear sticky saran wrap and plastic pieces. The windows steamed over with the heat of anticipation. With the frantic yelling of Virginia Lee and hand clapping of Mrs. Sandmire we at last, one by one, emerged from the bus layered in cellophane, two or three pair of hose, cotton in our ears, and as many socks as our boots would allow. Our smooth youthful bodies looked a bit lumpy under the leotard and adornments of fringe and feathers.

With proper counting, clapping, and training we lined up to march down the narrow main street lined with parents holding blankets around two or three shivering little children. The band's music traveled forward with us in the wind and helped us to keep a steady beat that day. Hearing the crowds clap and cheer kept smiles frozen on our red faces, and helped to propel our legs and nearly numb feet forward with kicks and marched steps. In the end we were greeted by a warm bus, blankets, and a cup of hot chocolate.

It seems only right to say we danced and kicked passionately that day and gave the parade onlookers our best performance ever. Just like the little birds that fluttered away, we, too, fluttered and danced till the performances of our youth gave way to the lives we lead now.

Letty Stapp Watt
storyteller and historian