L-R: Glada Webb, Altus Michie, Jo Harp, Gladys McConnell (Johnny's mother), Edna Smith, Jean Hassell, "Sis" McClendon (Max's mother), Louie Harp (Jennifer's grandmother) and Mildred Brown at the Country Club, August 1973.
This today from our friend Mike Spradley (see the picture of Mike and his granddaughter Taylor, added under "The Way We Are"):
Jenn…..your golf picture made me think of this story…….maybe you can post it for me……thx….sprad
Seeing the pictures of Jennifer’s grandmother playing golf…….I remember all those ladies so very very very well as I grew up. They were truly the Matriarchs of Childress during the 50’s. I used to caddie for Gladys McConnell before “Willie” Wilcoxson actually talked me into letting him teach me how to play. (sorry Nikki…..I have never known Willie as Jim)
It’s easy to say that our family and the McConnell family were great friends from the time we moved to Childress in 1951….but then again….everybody was friends with the McConnells. It was Gladys that talked my Mother into moving next door to them during my 2nd grade year so that I could have Mzzzz. Pryor for a teacher. (the lady who taught me to love to read)
But that is not the story……this is…..
Somehow……and I don’t know why……..adults at the country club during the 50’s bestowed upon Willie the responsibility of teaching others his age to play golf. Implicit within that responsibility, as I look back, was the expectation that Willie would also teach us the rules and rules of honor……as in, “not cheating…”and “counting all your strokes”
Now then….the best two “kid” golfers were, unquestionably,” Willie Wilcoxson and Johnny McConnell. I played golf all the time with Johnny……but, for some reason, it was only Willie who was tasked with instructing. Beats me as to why but that was just the way it was….
Soooooo…enough background……….
One day Willie and I are finishing 9 holes and we are approaching the 9th green at the club house. From the club house, out walks several of those ladies in the picture, including, of course, Gladys McConnell. They are heading towards the 1st Tee.
Immediately!!!!......Willie starts telling me the future!!!!!!!!!
.........he whispers out of the corner of his mouth, “Sprad…….Gladys will ask us how you shot today………and then she will ask if we counted all your strokes”……Willie continued with…….”when she asks you if we counted all your strokes……you say, “yes….we did.”
Of course…..if we had counted all my strokes for 9 holes…..the score would always have been…..like……Spradley 112…….Wilcoxson 38 ……..so Willie always gave me the benefit of the doubt so my score would be around 50 or 60…or so….for 9 holes…..lets just say I got a lot of playing in for my money….
But somehow……Gladys was aware…..that Willie was teaching me to play golf……and it was Willie’s responsibility to teach me to play by the rules…………
So guess what………just as we get onto the 9th green….Gladys hollers………not at me……..but at Willie……with, “Willie….how did Mike shoot today?”……….Willie responds with a teacher’s proud, “Great!!!!…….he shot a 48!”
So Gladys looks at me and asked,……”That’s really good Mike……..did you count all your strokes?”
I puffed out my chest and replied…….”I sure did……….except for those I lost in the water on 2…….and those that went onto the highway on 3………and those that went into the farmer’s field on 4…….and”……that’s when I felt Willie’s elbow in my ribs…….
(I think the resulting bruise on my ribs resulted in my never being able to hit Chicken Mitchell’s fast ball.)
Anyway……Gladys went merrily off to the 1st tee…with a knowing smirk on her face
And I ….have never gotten any better at that miserable game they call golf……..but I am not bad if I get to count my own strokes………….just like Willie taught me….!
Monday, October 15, 2007
Learnin' Golf ... Countin' Strokes ... and Willie's Crystal Ball ....
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11 comments:
Great story, as always, Mike. And it gave me the excuse ... er, opportunity ... to post the picture which I sent you that apparently inspired it.
I'm very fond of that photo, which shows my beloved grandmother with her BFFs, doing what she absolutely LOVED. My grandmother was 73 years old when the photo was taken, and kept right on playing golf until she died at 79. At least equally amazing to me is that she didn't even take up the game until she was 55 ... and then regularly beat my grandfather ... a lifelong golfer ... to his bemusement.
BTW, I remember Papa coming home from the Country Club every evening talking about those "flat-bellied kids" out there (you know who you are) ... but I digress ....
In addition to her golfing prowess, my grandmother (Mamaw) was also wonderfully accomplished in the sewing arts ... she made many of my clothes, and I was frequently complimented by people wanting to know where I bought my outfit.
Mamaw was a remarkable woman in MANY ways ... indeed, a quintessential "Matriarch" (loved your description!) of iron will, when she was truly determined or when something outraged her sense of propriety.
Yahn and I went to visit Mamaw and Papa over a long Labor Day weekend (I believe in 1970), while Yahn was finishing his undergrad schooling (he later obtained his Master of Fine Arts degree at Syracuse University), and we were poor as the proverbial church mice. On the Sunday of our stay, my grandmother asked if I would like to go to the United (food store) and let her buy us a lot of canned goods and other non-perishables before we returned to Dallas on Monday. Would I? Talk about your rhetorical ... albeit "consuming" ... questions ....
I went to the bedroom and changed out of my robe into a really cute little mini-dress, walked back to the den and told my grandmother I was ready to go. She took one look at my VERY short skirt and declared that she was not going to the store with me looking like THAT. As I inherited a good deal of my grandmother's iron will, this crawled up my back, and I told her somewhat huffily that the mini was totally "au courant", I wore it and similar things all the time in Dallas ... and in fact, she herself had made the garment (and many similar ones) in question ... and FITTED it on me, for god's sake ... and that I believed her position on the matter was hypocritical. Mamaw responded that she didn't care what I wore in Dallas, but I wasn't going to wear it in Childress. Stalemate ... two immovable objects ... and apparently no groceries ....
The next day, after breakfast, I dressed in my "traveling" wardrobe (jeans and tie-died T-shirt), and as Yahn and I were about to pack the car, Mamaw asked: "Do you want to go to the store now?" "Yes," I responded ... and off to United we went ... neither of us having given an inch on the issue of the minidress, but groceries secured, nonetheless.
I will miss that wonderful lady every day for the rest of my life. Suffice to say, she was my rock .... I'm glad you enjoyed the picture.
These women all look so cute and young. I will always remember Max McClendon's mom because she had such a unique look about her. Definitely NOT Childress. She was always so kind, as was Max. What ever happened to that family?
Jenn, I can't believe that your grandmother was 73 in that pic!!! She looks great! like she was only 65 or so. Wonder what we would all look like if our pictures had been taken then...and now! LOL!!! On the golf course, of course.
I LOVE this picture!! Thanks Jennifer!
ONe last note to Mikey...Taylor is beautiful! Of course I knew she would be. You just have a way with beautiful women! Hope all is good in your court.
Jenn, I saw the picture previously of Keith ["Don't Know Much About History ..."] and recognized him immediately. I've enjoyed all of the pictures, plus your comments, as well as Nicki`s, plus Mike`s story re Jimmy and Gladys. I did not personally know some of the female golfers, but I did know Gladys (best of all), Sis, Louie, Jean Hassell and JD`s wife Altus Michie (just barely). I knew Allan Harp and Clarencie, but that`s the only Harps I can remember. However, you must remember, Lornadee and I were 26 and 27 when we moved to Childress and only 35 and 36 respectively when we moved to Lubbock 9 years later in 1960. Damn, we were young...it now seems a thousand years ago. I can say one thing for sure, and Lornadee would say the same were she still alive, we spent some of the best and happiest years of our lives in that little old town of Childress. The boys would say the same.
For those who don't know, and can't guess, Jim Sr. is Mike's father. He is also father to Jim Jr., who would have been CHS Class of 1962 if they had been able to remain in Childress. As you can see from Jim Sr.'s comment, he and his family have wonderful memories of Childress, and the people they knew there, including many of our classmates.
Jim Sr. and I began corresponding via e-mail in 2001, and he has told me so many wonderful stories about when he and Lornadee (his wife), and my parents (Billie and Keith Johnston), and Pat's parents (Lyman and Neysa Davenport), and the Gloars, and the Howards, and the Saieds were the "hot young adult set" in Childress back in the '50s. He also joined our group (along with Mike, of course) on the Wimberley weekend in October 2001.
I am privileged that he has become my friend, along with being a witness and a bridge to the past, and I truly treasure the time I spend "talking" with him.
Now, as for Jim Wilcoxson ... I cannot imagine that you will let Mike's story go without some comment of your own. Nicki, get after him ....
Jim and I have talked at length about his experiences at Childress Country Club. He has so many memories of that time--some of them not to be shared with the general public. LOL While he doesn't remember the exact event that Mike has shared, he does vividly remember good times with Mike on the course. All of the ladies in the photo are remembered fondly. They were a lively and entertaining group. On occasion he caddied for Della Jones.
Jim first started going to the Country Club at the age of ten. It was JD Michie who first placed golf clubs in his hands. We still have a couple of those clubs in his collection. Johnny McConnell started playing shortly before that time. Later Johnny gave up golf and then returned when they were freshmen. Starting in the seventh grade, Jim spent every spare moment at the club and that lasted until he left Childress. His "playmates" were all in their 40's and 50's so his "education" was interesting to say the least. In addition to golf he learned to play dominoes, gin, and about every other game that was played after the golf game of the day was over. It is my understanding that he even had some driving experiences in a car when he drove some of the old guys out to survey their cotton crops after too many trips to the 19th hole. Jim came away from those good times with tales to tell and expressions that still slip out in converstion to this day. Sometimes I have asked him, "where were your parents!"
Jennifer, thanks for reviving the memories with your picture!
Jennifer, thanks for introducing the subject of grandmothers to us. I loved the story about the mini skirt and the groceries. It sort of reminds me of the skirmishes I have had with my grandson who is only 12 concerning the clothing he has on occasions chosen to wear such as shorts on a snowy day or wrinkled shirts. Thank goodness his mom has chosen to pick her battles over more important issues.
I too have a special place in my heart for my own grandmother (my mother's mother). I will never forget Sunday dinner at her house. Today I cringe to look back at how all of the family including her daughters and their husbands and children gathered to consume tons of fried chicken (later roast), mashed potatoes, corn, green beans and various other veggies and desserts all home cooked. It seemed that just about the time all of that was cleaned up, all the cousins reappeared after playing outside to drag out the ice cream and chocolate syrup which created another mess to deal with, but boy, did we have fun! I never stopped enjoying going to visit her and rarely does a day go by that I don't in some way think of her and miss her. She was the only grandparent that I ever really knew as my paternal grandparents died way before my time and my mother's dad died when I was in the 3rd grade.
Jim was lucky in that he had all 4 of his grandparents in Childress. Today, he still feels and remembers the love that they gave him and that he had for them.
Jim and I spend as much time as possible with our grandchildren creating memories both for them and for us.
Thank you so much, Jim Spradley, for sharing your experience with life in Childress with us. We hope you'll share more when you can! By the way, my Jim (Wilcoxson) also remembers you and your family very well.
Nicki
I'm going to tell one more favorite "Mamaw" story ... which not only involves yours truly, but also Paula and Raenell.
During the summer after our freshman year at CHS, the Nine, and many of our classmates and others decided it would be VERY cooool ... and SO attractive ... to smoke. Of course, we went to great lengths to hide our new vice from vigilant parents (and grandparents), so "sneaking" our smokes was the order of the day.
One day the girls and I climbed up on the toolshed adjacent to my grandparents' house, crossed the flat roof over the den, unknowingly ... and unthinkingly ... doing some damage to the tar surface, which was not discovered until the next rainstorm.
From the flat roof, we accessed the pitched roof, and lo and behold, found a little place where three sides of the roof came together, hiding view of anyone up there from the street or the yard. Voila! A perfect place to smoke ... we thought. Because we were smoking Alpine cigarettes at the time, we cleverly (?) dubbed our little sanctuary Pine Roof, and would disappear up there every time the girls were at "my" house.
After our first day on Pine Roof, we climbed down and discovered one problem: We had been flicking our cigarettes over the edge of the roof (I don't know why we apparently assumed they were going to magically disappear once launched ....) When we climbed down, we scrambled frantically to gather the evidence. From that point, we started putting our cigarettes out on the asbestos roof tiles and putting them in used Coke cups, then carrying them down for disposal off-premises.
One day, Paula, Raenell and I were up on the roof (cool song!), sans cups, so we began dropping the butts down a vent pipe that came up through the roof. It's a wonder we didn't burn the house down ... but we were teenagers ... sometimes synonymous with "stupid".
All of a sudden, we heard my grandmother's voice, raised to a frightening and obviously outraged pitch, calling "Jennifer Lou!!!" When she called me by my full name, I knew I was in major trouble. We jumped up, got rid of the ciggies and clambered down from the roof, to find my grandmother standing in the back yard holding a stew pot, which she thrust accusingly at us as we reached her. We looked inside ... and saw several Alpine cigarette butts, with telltale lipstick traces, floating decoratively in Mamaw's stew.
And so, we bid a fond (but chagrined) farewell to our little nicotine oasis ... busted, sadder, but unfortunately not measurably wiser.
I love this Mamaw story. It would seem that sometimes we are just destined to get caught! I'll bet Mamaw is up there somewhere laughing right now! I wonder how many times she told that story to her friends--about the time she caught the girls smoking on the roof and about the stew that didn't make it!
Great story!
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