When man settled on the frontier, life was not so complicated. The forest contained plenty of wild game, the timber supplied him with material to build his house with, rails for fences and fuel for his fire, His big problem was to sell enough hogs, corn, cotton, to furnish him with money to buy his basic needs. These basic needs were few since he had a patch of potatoes, tomatoes, etc. In a large home, garden was the first thing each settler planted. And the entire family worked to store plenty to eat through a long winter. So, about all the early settlers had to buy was his coffee, sugar, flour, salt, and tobacco. And some, like my father, raised his own tobacco, and I have seen a load of wheat hauled to the mill where it was ground into flour, and we stored our own.

Forty acres was about all a man could handle. By the time he builthis house, his fence made of split rails, and the land cleared of timber, he found plenty to do in breaking this land, seeding and cultivating a crop. Before the land was settled, a road could be made where it served the best purpose by simply cutting a passage through the timber and shoveling down the creek banks so a wagon could pass through and ford the stream.

As time passed, and more people came into a new country, it was found that rules had to be made and kept. Schools were built, roads built, law enforcement men hired, Judges appointed, etc., all of which cost money. This brought about taxes, which added to the regular trips to the little towns that sprang up here and there, and created a need for more money, and life ceased to be as simple as it was on the frontier. As more money was needed, the early settler who had been content with his forty acres found that he had to clear off more land, and in many cases, more land was not available. When new land was first cultivated, it was soft and spongy with lots of humus and fertility. It would grow about anything bountifully. But the early settler was more of a hunter than he was a farmer. He knew little of soil conservation nor of rotating his crops. Neither did he practice fertilization in any way, but kept rob- robbing his soil of everything without giving it any rest and replenishment. The result was inevitable. It Just quit producing.

At first this was the beginning of the early settlers troubles. We may as well start calling him a farmer now because the frontier had been conquered. Several things contributed to the farmers troubles. In order to produce as much as he had been producing, he had to farm more acres, and even if more land was available, his expenses were increased and as his expenses kept raising he had to produce more. This added production brought about another problem Overproduction set in, and as the market was flooded, the price dropped, which created the need to produce more.. ...lt. was a vicious circle. Soon there was not land enough to go around and it was a survival of the fittest. The poorest farmer was the first to be pushed off his land. But as the situation worsened, more and still more were froze off the land, and with those remaining grabbing it up as fast as it was left idle. These farmers that were forced off their land moved out seeking new land, and the migration to the West had begun to grow. For a while after the first World War everything went along fine, but then the Great Depression started and the bottom fell out of everything. Even if a good crop was raised, it would not sell for much, and the farmer still had his expenses. More and more left the farms.

Another headache for the farmer was the erosion of his soil. Once the rainfall soaked into the ground as fast as it fell because the soil was spongy and soft. soon. But after it was farmed and the plow run through t, the humus was soon gone, and when rain fell on the ground it did not soak in. It stood in pools or ran off into a ditch. So, in a short time, the land that lay on a hillside began to erode and shallow ditches began to appear. In time, the ditches deepened until they were so deep the land had to be deserted because a plow could not cross them. At the same time the soil washed off the hillside has settled in the creek beds, and now when it comes a light rain, it runs off the land into the creek. Because the creek is choked up with this soil, the water soon spills over the creek banks causing the best land in the country, the bottom land, to overflow and wash out all crops planted there.

Now it has reached a point where farmers could not make expenses even when they made a fair crop, and as time passed, better crops had to be made to stay on top. Eventually, few, if any at all, were making a Us good living off the farms and the migration became an exodus. Possibly history does not record such a movement of people from one land to an- other. Even the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt to Canaan was dwarfed by this great movement. It took the Israelites forty years to go a few hundred miles, while this migration was contained mostly in about fifteen years, 1930-1945. Also, there were only about four million Israelites, while there were twice as many migrating farmers. Highway 30-the Lincoln Highway and Highway 70-the Southern Route were used much by these people. But the main artery was Highway 6S, the straightest road from Chicago to California.

In the early 20's, going West meant western Oklahoma, Texas plains, New Mexico or Colorado. Some brave ones kept on going to land up west of the Roie Mountains, but at this time, fairly good farming land could be found without going over the mountains, and the roads were not good enough to travel them any further than necessary. Good crops were raised when the sod was turned over for a few years. Soon large wheat and maize fields appeared where there had once been mosquito grass, or buffalo grass, and towns grew up almost overnight. but in the first part of the 30's there was about four years of little rainfall in a country that never had much at best. The crops began to fail and with no vegetation to protect the soil from the wind, it began to move. once the soil began to move, it helped tear other soil loose, and the situation worsened fast. At times there was so much dirt in the air that the sun was shut out at mid-day, automobiles turned on their lights, and many residents suffered "dust pneumonia." The fence rows were about the only thing that could stop the tumbleweeds as they rolled across the plains. Then the tumbleweeds provided a place where the sand drifted into huge piles, covering up fences, and also drifted into huge drifts against buildings.

The country became barren and the settlers fled, most West. The route most of these migrants followed was Highway 30. They landed in northern Oregon, and from there fanned out into Washington and some into northern California. The southern part of California was receiving a heavy influx from Oklahoma, Arkansas, Missouri, and the western part of Texas.

The name "Okies" was given to these people in a book written by John Steinbeck called The Grapes of Wrath, and the name became applied to all migrants in general, regardless from whence they came. The name is now used mostly to distinguish someone of low estate. As you may assume, the migrants were not well received. They were generally broke and looking for work, and at that time, work was scarce and the residents of a community did not look favorably on an outsider coming into the community to compete with them for the few jobs there were. but these migrants were hardy quite used to hardships, and willing to make sacri- fices to gain a foothold, and many of them succeeded. Some fell before the obstacles and became satisfied with a welfare handout, but most of them bore up, kept their self-respect and independence, and in time be- came an asset to their adopted community. Again we can compare this migration to the Exodus of Israel when we realize that these migrants soon became a majority in many places, and by their hardy spirit built homes and a place for themselves. It is sometimes said "they took California without firing a shot", while the Israelites did not conquer Canaan for hundreds of years.

My dad was not ten feet tall, it just seemed that way. Actually, he was about 5 ft. 10 inches tall, weighed about 165 pounds, but to me and to the rest of us children, he was quite a man. His formal education was only to about the fourth grade. In the days when he went to school, they did not grade as they do today. They just kept handing the children another book when the one they already held was finished. But he learned to read and all through the rest of his life he read a lot. This was a source of irritation to my mother because she liked to talk and my father had a book or newspaper in front of him. In my days of school, I often went to my father for historical or current information. He was (to my opinion) the best informed person I ever saw.

My mother was an ideal frontierswoman. She could fix up a meal with less material than anyone. She could patch up our clothes and get more wear out of them, or mend our shoes that they would last until grass comes", and at all times maintain more discipline among us eleven chil- dren than any two women. But keeping discipline was an art. she en- trusted the older children to keep an eye on the younger, and since I was number nine, I was so far down on the totem pole, that several had a hand in Ply upbringings It was useless to run to Mama and complain if one of the older children took a switch to me. It most likely would mean that I would Just get another switching, so a fellow just learns to keep his mouth shut, leave well enough alone and try to be a better boy.

The four older girls were kept pretty busy around the house helping mama, but there were times when the occasion warranted that they harness up a team and go to the field, Like the time all of the menfolk were down with the flu.....everyone was taught to do about anything.

We did not always eat high on the hog, neither did we always eat low. There was always plenty to eat. Maybe it was cornbread and beans, but there is nothing bad about that. However, it did get tiresome, and a fellow liked a change. But through it all (black draught and castor oil) we were a healthy family, thanks to a mother that was a pretty good doctor too.

When a young fellow, I never took to work with any liking. In other words, I was just plain lazy. Everything that I was assigned to do was hard, and that is more truth than poetry-chopping cotton, hoeing corn, cutting wood, cutting sprouts, etc., and I did what I was told to do. Nothing more, nothing less. When I started to school when I was eight years old, we never lived closer than two miles, and a fellow had to wait until he had good legs before starting to school. I was On the third grade. The older ones had taught me at home. But my Dad told me that unless I was in school I had to work, and during the winter time the kind of work he had for me to do was cut sprouts (which meant that the young timber growth had to be cut back each year as it sprouted up from roots still in the ground of recently cleared timberland), or I had to cut firewood (we used more wood than anybody you ever saw), and Since I cared little for work, I went to school every day. Fact is t I set some attendance records, even if we did live over two miles from school.

School was my outlet. I loved competition, either literary or physical. I was not an athlete (except wrestling), but I did all right in literary contests. As 2 senior I played baseball. I caught, coached and captained. Would you believe me when I tell you that we went undefeated...maybe we were not such good baseball players, but we lacked little for enthusiasm, and when I graduated that year, I was the valedictorian. Now that is not bragging. Some people have to brag, I Just tell the truth....sometimes it does sound alike, though.

I recall several incidents that are worth mentioning. Like the time my cousin Jack (Uncle peters boy that lived a short whoop and a holler over the hill) started to break a 'possum's neck by putting an axhandle across its neck and holding it there With his feet and then pulling hard on the 'possum's tail, which was everyone's way to kill a opossum, They usually are Sulked up, which means they fake death. But this time, the possum came unsuited long enough to get Jack by his big toe, then proceeded to Sell up again. There he lay with a firm grip, while Jack howled. We had to choke that opossum to death.

Then there was the time Jack, hunting squirrels, thrust his hand into a hole in a tree and yelled that he had found one. He proved it too when he let out a yell and pulled his hand out of the hole...with a squirrel attached to his thumb with its teeth. A fellow just had to learn the hard way to keep his hands out of some places.

Floyd had a part in teaching me how to swim. He just tossed me into deep water, and the fact I am now here is testimony that I managed to stay on but that that is a hard way to learn to swim. I was not good when it came to riding. When the horse went down, I was going up, and when the horse went up, I was coming down. We could never get together and it was sure hard on me. I had rather have blisters on my feet any day. That is why I loved to walk..

I remember the day Allen Gudgel, another cousin just my age, and we were together much, tailed the calf. I recall several of us had a hand 'in tailing calves, but Allen took the prize. In case you never got hold of a calf by his tail and turned him 'loose, you have missed half of living. The calf will take off and you get free-wheeling. As long as 'the calf goes straight and you hang on, all is well...'out there are other [things that can happen. Well, Allen got hold of a good sized calf's tail and there they went. Allen hung on for quite a while as his legs took in long strides, but before long he wanted to turn loose, but he could not because of his fear of falling anyway, the calf decided the issue. It made a sudden turn and Allen kept going. He slid on his belly half Sway across the lot and some of those cow-piles had not dried good...I'll bet Allen still remembers this incident. He probably can still smell it.

Whe had two rooms in our house. One was the kitchen, the other was a living room by day and a bedroom at night. When the girls boyfriends came courting', they had the living room and all the rest of us kids had to mind our manners and stay in the kitchen. Dad had a regular bedtime, which was earlier than some folks bedtime, especially young men courting But Dad had a way to warn them their time was up. He'd raise his shoes high and drop them on the floor and no one could doubt that he was get- ting ready to retire. This was hard on the Girls, but even so, they all got real good husbands, in spite of Dad rushing them off.

One day Red found a live 22 shell and he wanted to take it apart, so he laid it on a rock and proceeded to hammer it. When it exploded, the empty cartridge part flew and hit him right in the forehead. I always did say he had a hard head and it was well he did at this time. Anyway, he was scared as well as hurt and called to me not to set near that thing for it might hurt someone...he thought the cartridge was alive. An outstanding memory of Red was when he walked out of church during ser- vices. This was strictly against my parents orders. Dad got up out of his seat and followed Red, catching him at the church door and that is where he proceeded to execute the prescribed punishment. This was a break in what could have been a monotonous sermon. For a short time, the preacher had to surrender his place of central interest. It was charac- teristic that Dad executed discipline at the proper time and place, both being when and where he caught us breaking his rules. Since that time, I was always mindful never to get up and walk out of church during services, especially ashen Dad was around.

When the girls were all home we had lots of company (especially boyfriends), and a favorite entertainment was gathering around the organ while Ethel played, and sing. On these occasions I was to sit down on the floor out of the way, and keep quiet. We never had gathering chairs when we had company and at mealtime I usually had to wait for the second table, as all us younger children did. We never thought we were being mistreated, it was Just a part of our home life. Today we would be classified as poverty stricken, but I know we were the wealthiest of all and no amount of money could ever replace what we had.

To my way of thinking, the best investment Dad ever made was when he borrowed money on the 40 acres he owned in order to bug another 40. It resulted in losing all our land because we were unable to repay the loan. I think that if we had been able to hang on to that place, some of us would still be there, at least things would never have worked oust as they did. I recall that it was in 1923 that we were evicted. Dad was with Uncle Pete out in New Mexico and Colorado trying to find a new homesite. Uncle Pete had purchased a new Ford and with Jim Jones, a young fellow that my parents had practically raised, to drive the Ford because neither Dad nor Uncle Pete could drive. Anyway, Mama had to take matters in her own hands and with Fate Kyle, and possibly Lloyd, she located a place to move near Fillmore, and when Dad returned we were already settled there with a contract on a place. And since Dad never found anything out west, we proceeded to tenant farm around Fillmore until 1928 when we leased a place near Coleman, and this was where I completed High School. In the meantime, a11 of the older girls had married off and moved away. the three older sisters had moved to California with their husbands, but had returned at various times. It seems that they had a dream that they could take the money they had accumulated in California and come back and make a go out of farming around where we were. I suspect the real reason was the girls were homesick and wanted to be near us, but it only took a year or two until they had spent their savings and again they returned to California to replenish their funds. I recall this was one reason Mama said we may as well go to California, maybe if we were all there it would stop their going and coming, Edna and Luther were living in east Texas and for awhile appeared to do well until the drought and wind- storms hit that country. Lloyd and Cecil had lived near Gainsville, Texas, but in 1926 they had moved back to Coleman. Floyd and his family had moved to California about 1919, the first of the family to venture that far, but about 1928 Floyd and his six children came back and lived with us. I believe Floyd sent his children back on the train in 1928 and followed them the next year. The thing about all of the older brothers and sisters going and coming was that they were unsettled. They did not want to live in California, yet they could not make a living On Oklahoma. This was a general characteristic trait of most Okies. Victor was killed in 1927 and was buried in the Fillmore cemetery and to go to visit his grave is the major reason to return to that community.

Soon after I completed high school in 1929, I left for the wheat harvest with Floyd and Emmett Fairchild. Dad gave me 810.00 (probably the only one he had) to pay my way with and when we returned 6 months later after touching on eight states, I had 25,~$, and between us we had an old stripped down Ford that we had purchased in Colorado for ;,25.00. I did send some money home, but not much. This was during the depression when Jobs were hard to find and the pay rate was two dollars a day.But I always say this was my college education, acquired quick, and measured in dollars, cheap.

When I left home that spring my nickname was "Shorty". When I re- turned that fall I was called Oklahoma Slim", and that Just about tells of my growing up. I was strong and healthy and vowed that no man, any- where or anytime, would ever outwork me on a Job, and I believe that on this trip I made good, anyway I felt that I was able to take care of myself, and the time had come to step out, and to step out meant to go West.

I approached Dad and asked him to sell out and us go to New Mexico. He Said he did not see how we could do such a thing since we had no money. He proposed that we wait another year. Maybe we would be in better shape...the same story had been going on for years. but I insisted that the time was then. I was planning on going and if I went, the other boys would probably go with me, or follow, and then he and the rest would be left alone. Well, Dad said he would talk it over with llama, and in a couple of days he said all things had been considered and we would go. I know how hard this was on him and Mama. They were getting on in years and had been through lots and knew the problems which we younger ones did not and it is well that we did not know. We too, might have been afraid to venture out.

We proceeded to sell out...Give away would be a better word for it. nobody had any money. Our property was limited to livestock and work tools as good as any around there, but it was hard to sell for cash. Dad traded a wagon and team for a Ford truck, having in mind that we would need it to travel in. I now think we would have been about as well off if we had not traded and just come by wagon and team, for that truck was worn out long before we got it. But, us not being mechanics and never having any experience with such contraptions, never knew that it was no good until it was too late and the die had been cast. (We had got beyond the point of no return.) As Lloyd was going to stay there awhile longer, we left the cattle with him. In 1935 I re- turned to Coleman with Lloyd and we gathered the cattle together and sold them off at $14.00 a head. There were 55 head. But, by selling off all we could, together with what we had from the Prop, I think we had a little over $700.00 with a few bills to be paid before we left. Now my father was as good a farmer as the one down the road and a better worker than most, he also had raised a large family to help, and yet this represented the total amount he had accumulated. And we were about as well off as anyone else. I did not see where I could do any better under the same circumstances. This shows why it was so necessary to seek other environments.

In February 1930, Russ and Emma had returned from a trip to Alabama. They had quit farming near Fillmore the preceding fall and made the trip to visit Russ's family before returning west. Russ, like the other girls' husbands, had made more than one trip back to Oklahoma to farm and lost it. It was Russ's intention to locate in New Mexico. So, Virgil went with them to help as much as he could. Also, we had a truck load. But they did not stop on their trip in New Mexico and wound up near Chowchilla, California.

Lloyd and his family were the only ones of our relatives left near Coleman. At this time, Uncle Pete and his large family were in West Texas. They did return a year or two later and located on the old home place near Boggy Depot (about seven miles from Coleman), and that is where they, with Allen and his family, are located presently (1967). Most of his other children are in Texas. Scary is near Merced, Calif- ornia.

It is quite a chore to pack up for a long move as we had to do, knowing that anything left would be forever gone. We did not intend to pass that way again, so everything was carefully gone over and the less essentials set back. Dad and Floyd had fixed the truck by putting on Sideboards on the flat bed on the Model T Ford. Then wagon bows were put up to support a wagon sheet over the top. We were well pro- tected from the weather. I never heard of any ill comfort, however. The bedding was on top of all the other things, so in case someone got cold they could cover with bedding. The sides of the wagon sheet were tied doom. It could be closed tightly in rear and front, During the nice warm days the wagon sheet could be tied up so everyone had a good view, but the opening in the rear was about the only viewpoint for most of the trip.

I am not sure, but I think it was search 7, 1930, when we left. Not many were there to see us off. Lloyd and his family, and I recall the community bootlegger, Earl Hoket, were present. In other words, our going did not create a big loss in the community. After all, so many had already left, and we had made three or four moves in the past eight years, we had lost contact with most of our lifelong friends. Some people talk about burning their bridges behind them, but as far as I was concerned, there were no bridges to burn. There was no use for the road once we had gotten to our destination....they could Just roll it up into a wad and stuff it down a prairie dog hole in west Texas. We did not look back. We were expecting Lloyd to follow us as soon as he could, then all of us would be away from there...we were licking the pot clean.

In the truck were Dad, mother, Floyd and his three youngest chil- dren (the older three were with their mother in Washington), myself, Red (Otto), and Tootsie Mary). I was to ride up front with Floyd and be the assistant engineer. Floyd did most of the driving. The Ford had a "ruxel rear end", which geared it down slower than it normally was. I doubt that it was ever designed to travel 25 miles an hour with a standard rear end. But we soon learned that it was going to be a long trip because we moved along at less than 20 miles an hour. Floyd said that it would do all right in the mountains because it was geared down, but we found that on the plains it was 9. mountain vehicle, while in the mountains we learned that it was only good for the plains. No matter where we were, that truck never did anything right. We Just had to be patient and bide our time. But, after all, I do not think we were in a hurry. Besides, we wanted to enjoy the trip...it was the first one some of us had ever been on.

When we first left, we had money and stopped at night in a tourist cabin. It was Simple, but later when our funds got low it was con- sidered too much of an expense, and I do recall stopping at tourist camps and when we asked if they had a cabin available, they looked us over and Said they were full up. But we were prepared to stop where nightfall overtook us. All we had to do was gather some firewood (and this was a good chore for some of the younger ones), and llama soon had a meal of "thickening' gravy", lightbread and hominy. The hominy was some mama had made while preparing for the trip. she cooked it and redried it, then packed it in a floursack. There was a full sack when we started, but it was empty before we reached California. But we had dried fruit and possibly some canned food. We would not run out of food easily. I know we were the healthiest and hungriest bunch on the road. Dad, mama, and the smallest children slept in the truck. The rest of us could sleep on the ground. I do not recall any bad weather. Fact is, the winter of 1929-30 was one of the driest ever recorded.

It probably took us at least two days to reach Luther and Edna's where we lay over three or four days. We repacked the truck. Mama had some things under the load she needed and some on top she did not need. Clothes were washed for about the last time on the trip, and the truck had a general repair and checkup. We did not know where we were going, but we suspected it was a long way to it. I do not know when or where we changed our destination from flew Mexico to California, but as I re- call, there was nothing said about looking for a place to stop in New Mexico while we were there. At least we never stopped and looked. But the weather was fine, and the roads good across the Texas Panhandle and on into New Mexico.

Outside of the paved roads in those western towns, all of the roads were Just dirt. It was neither downhill or uphill, a curve, dip, etc., and throughout it all the roads were wash-board. Even if we had a fast vehicle, we could not have made any time because the roads were 80 rough. To travel Highway 66 today is a pleasure. It Is all paved, and most of it is four lane, 70 mph super highway. But while traveling this road today, keep a close watch and occasionally you may see something that resembles a cow trail. That is the old Highway 66. Since the old road had to go around all bad obstacles, not through them as the new road does, and try to avoid the worst grades, the old road must have been 200 miles longer than the present road.

I doubt we ever made 250 miles a day. 150 was a good distance while in the mountains. I estimate we averaged 125 miles each day. We could start as early as things were packed. That is, after daylight, but we stopped in time to get set for the night before it got dark. Only enough time was taken out during lunch for the driver (Floyd) to eat. The rest ate while traveling. We refer to the truck as "her". I do not know why she should be classed in the feminine gender unless it Is because she could get so contrary sometimes without an apparent rea- son, and again, she would run like a sewing machine. But she had no self-starter, and at times was lazy and hard to start. When possible, we would back her up on an incline, and when we got ready to start, everyone would shove.

We took lots of photographs on that trip. It was such interesting scenery, especially the red cliffs and the mountain slopes. On several Occasions, I Jumped out of the truck while it was going uphill, ran ahead and took some pictures of her as she labored up the grade. Climb- ing grades was our problem. We traveled too slow for curves to bother, and going downgrade was about the only time we could get into high gear. But, I do not think we had a flat tire on the entire trip, even though we had a heavy load aboard. When we had a miss in the engine, we had a routine, Floyd cleaned out the rotary, I checked the coil boxes, and the others took out and cleaned the sparkplugs. When we all finished Our part and things were back together, she ran good...for awhile. I daresay there never was another Model T Ford petted and pampered like this one to get as many miles after it was worn out. but in spite of all the trouble, we kept plugging along. After all, we were not in any particular hurry, and we were having the times of our lives. Fact is, we were looking forward more to the trip out west than what we would find after arriving. She future was behind a veil, but the present was real and we knew we would never again travel that road as we were then.

Near Winslow, Arizona we knocked a rod out. It took about a day to Jerk off the pan, tighten up the rod and put everything back again. Our tools were primitive. Possibly a screwdriver, pliers, and a couple of monkey wrenches. To do bearing work was next to impossible. Floyd got it back so it would not knock, but it was too tight, and when he tried to crank the engine he pulled a ligament loose in his right shoulder, (which caused him much pain for two or more years).

When we left there I was the engineer and drove the rest of the way. But, the too tight bearing led to a greater trouble. Eighteen miles east Of Kingman, the rod came loose and ran through the block. Now this was no pliers, screwdriver and baling wire job. We had to have help. I hitch-hiked into Kinsman and got a towcar to come get us. We were charged $1.00 per mile. That is how I know it was 18 miles. The Okies were stool;" by these roadside garages. We were at their mercy and they had none. It cost us about $70.00 to get the engine fixed. We, (Floyd, Red and myself) did most of the work. However, we used the garage's tools and the mechanic put the copper plate patch over the hole made by the loose rod. It took three days, and this gave us time to wire for j50.00 from Fate and Russ. We had spent all of our money. It is a good time to mention that from henceforth on, we, (as a family), were pulling together. None of us had much, but added together, we had ample. So, it became a necessity that we share, and share we did. Not necessarily from necessity, but because we were interested in the others welfare. and if there is one single phase or action that we can claim as the big factor in us all getting a start in California it is this: we all worked together.

Upon leaving Kingman, Floyd said the truck would not pull Oakman H111. Years later I passed over this mountain and saw what he meant. There was another road, ungraded or maintained, that wound through the cactus and greasewood, crossing unbridged dry washes, but on it there were no grades. However, the road was all sand and gravel (moraine). But, since we never traveled fast anyway, this was no problem and no doubt in the long run we made better time than if we had went Hwy. 66. The modern highway now follows the general path of that old road. A four lane superfreeway that modern cars can speed along at 70 miles per hour. But, while planting along through the desert about noon that day, Floyd suddenly exclaimed, "Stop this thing, we are afire"! Stopping quick was no problem. I turned off the road and hit the sand. We stopped quick, but by the time we stopped, they were falling out the back end. There was a system to this. Each knew their turn and with military precision they could load or unload like clockwork. It was natural that Floyd was the first to discover the fire since he was sitting right over it. A greasy rag had slipped off the gas tank, which was under the truck seat, and fell on the exhaust pipe and caught fire, quickly spreading to the gas tank. We jerked the seat off and started throwing sand. Sand is excellent to put out a fire and we had a world of it and plenty of willing hands to throw. In a short time everything was under control, but we sure almost lost the truck..... Just another incident.

Within a few miles after leaving Kingman, the canyon you are fol- lowing empties into a desert, the eastern edge of the great Mojave Desert, which extends westward about 400 miles to the Tehachapi Moun- tains, and about the only signs of life found when you cross the Colorado River there is a small town, Needles. touch farther west some farming is done on the Barstow River near the town Barstow. The desert does not change much. Generally, the temperature varies from hot to hotter, then back to hot. In the spring when there is sometimes a little rainfall, the desert looks dry. But in the hottest Summer, the green yucca plants and Joshua trees made the desert look alive. It is a great deceiver since it looks harmless. Be sure to carry water when you are there.

We began to feel that as we neared California, that the Journey was about over. But Floyd assured us that there was a long way to go, because by now we were headed to Chowchilla. And when we crossed the Colorado at Topock and saw the pavement, (we had not run on pavement Outside of a few towns since leaving Texas), somehow the scenery was a disappointment because we had always spoken of California as the "Golden State', and the road was asphalt and no green orange trees in sight.

As all migrants knew, there is a state checking station to go through when entering the state, and at that time each vehicle was thoroughly checked for any raw cotton products, fresh fruits, etc., and we had a small quantity of honey left that we had been eating on and llama told the children to eat all they could, because at the checking station it would be confiscated. So they ate honey on bread, all they could and more, too. Now I suppose almost everyone has, at some time in their lives, ate too much honey, (it is easy to do), and since that time Tootsie has not liked honey. This just goes to show that Mama was a thrifty housewife and strived to waste nothing.

I do not think we had anything taken from us at the checking sta- tion, even though the police went through everything, and we had it well packed. But I never will forget the dressing down I got by the policeman who told me how and where to park and I overshot the mark a few feet. Quite naturally I was scared and excited when at my best. I was not much of a driver since my experience was so limited. And us Okies were not the most welcome sight to the residents of California, and in a way the reputation was earned because, sad to say, there is a lot of trash and deadbeats from back there, and once here, the citizens of this state had to feed them. Also, the energetic migrant would underbid the natives for the Jobs. A large percentage of the natives here would liked for the state to forbid entrance of these people, and I believe that if it had been legal to place a barrier in front of them it would have been done. I suppose the police at these checking sta- tions get rather filled up with the Okies and lose their patience. I see no other reason why I should have been the object of this police- man's wrath. I certainly got a bad impression of the California Highway Police then. It was the first dressing down I ever got by a professional and it helped to prepare me for some later on.

We crossed Tehachapi Pass one morning, so we must have stayed the night before in or near, Mojave, It was quite a drive over this moun- tain then. Until recently the road was full of curves and bad grades and the road we came over was much worse, but as it has been said, "the darkest part of the night is Just before dawn . I doubt that this saying has any truth to it 5 but in our case, we knew we were crossing our last bad piece of mountain road, Eventually, the road began to flatten out some, and the grades less steep and quite suddenly we turned a curve, and there it lay, the Great Valley, as far as the eye could see, A wide parking place was alongside the road, and we pulled off and parked, as provably thousands before us had done, and thou- sands later were to dot Highway 66 is now changed. I doubt anyone could find this spot again, but no place anywhere could ever equal that spot where man could stand and look over a land he was entering for his first time and that was to be his future home, one we had looked for- ward to for so long, and made so many sacrifices to reach.

I do not think anyone ever stood in the gateway of a new beginning in life as we did that day, overlooking the San Joaquin Valley, from the vantage point on Tehachapi Pass. I wish I had total recall so I could tell what went through my mind. I suppose the children were glad to get out of the truck for a while, no doubt they were very tired. And to some of us older ones, we must have felt relieved to know our Journey was almost over. I know I was anxious to find a Job. But T know Dad and Mama must have looked beyond the horizon trying to see into the future and find the answer to the question regarding the wisdom of the transit we were making. They may have uttered a prayer that this land and it's people be kind to us. They had seen new lands and strange people before and knew that we had to earn our way and self respect be- fore we would be accepted, and we were untried and inexperienced. With age comes the knowledge that defeat is always a companion, but fortu- nately, at that time, none of us younger knew about it....we were unafraid.

Across the desert we had seen nothing but the eternal brown-green sage, cactus of many varieties, yucca plants and Joshua trees. Prior to the desert the land from where we came had the cloak of winter, so, since the preceding Fall we had not seen any green grass. But, around the first of April, the Great Valley in California is at its best. Grass is high enough for cows to start picking up flesh and even some flowers have appeared. Hence, we were in a land such as we had never seen before. For miles below the foothills, the flat (gentle sloping) valley floor lay like a green carpet of native grass. This same land today is farmed and is some of the best land in the entire valley, growing three bales of cotton per acre, and extensive truck farm pro- ducts. I want to add that within the 37 years we have been In this valley since entering in that spring day of 1930, the farmland has been almost doubled in acreage, with only about one-half of the total available for farming now under production. Even the most optimistic of us could not visualize the opportunities awaiting us.

We climbed back into the truck and left our viewpoint anxious to finish our Journey by traveling late that evening. After rounding the last curve and topping the last hill, the road stretched in front of us straight as a string on a gentle slope for miles. In the distance we could see a settlement which we knew was Arvin. I got an idea that this was the time to really make some time by throwing the truck in neutral and coasting. We had never done it before, but after weeks of traveling, I had begun to feel reckless, so, I put her in neutral and let her roll. Boy, what a pleasure it was to see the road fly by us. Twenty-five, thirty, maybe more, the speed increased. Everyone was whooping it up. Suddenly, the rear wheels locked. The drive- shaft had frozen with a burned out bearing. This was Just too much for her. she could not take it. We had enough speed for me to wheel her to the roadside before we skidded to a stop. Everyone knew this was something we had never before experienced, and after a short examina- tion, Floyd said we could not fix her. After all, we had reached California, and that was all she was supposed to do, Floyd and Red started walking into Arvln, where they called Fate and Russ to come get us, Everyone else started to set up camp. I spotted a windmill about a mile out in the pasture and went after some water. The kids started looking for firewood, but since there was no firewood in that area, we had to be content with cow chips. That was our last night on the road. Early the next morning Fate and RU88 arrived pulling cotton trailers to load all our things on, and after transferring everything, we headed north, leaving the truck, but promised to return and get her later. Russ and I did return a few days later. We got the ruxel into neutral so she could be towed, (that left me with only the emergency brake to stop with the .handbrake). But when Russ tried to tow me with his Erskin one of the better cars of that day, it was all he could do to move along in second gear. We could see no need to take a chance on ruining his car for a worn out Model T Ford, so we found a side road where we could get her out of the way, took the tires off, (the only thing we could use), and left her for good. Lots of worn out vehicles were left along- side the road going West....

It was Saturday, April 1st, 1930, that we arrived in Chowchilla Some of us stayed with Russ and Emma, some with Fate and Ethel, and some with Ross and Ella. It was a few weeks before we found a house of our own, but we lived a year in it without electricity or water. But we did not mind doing without those luxuries. We had lived a lifetime before this without them.

It would take too long to go into detail of how we progressed. But Ross let us have $200000 that first year to rent a place and make a maize crop. Since we did not gain possession until July, tho crop was too late, and the frost killed it before maturity we never made expenses. Neither did we make anything for three years, mostly be- cause we did not know how to farm here, but we were willing to take chances in order to learn. And learn we did. In 1934 we started raising cotton. That was the year we first leased land near El Nido and got enough to keep us all pretty busy. you see, some of us worked wherever we could find employment and turn our wages over to Dad and Mama to pay the farming expenses and buy groceries. In 1934 we did well. I never exceeded 25/ an hour for my labor and worked hard for 15/ an hour and was glad (and felt lucky) to get the hobo The first year, we six, Dad, Floyd, Virgil, myself Red and Too'>sie contracted cotton chopping by the acre. We chopped over 600 acre. and the most we ever got per acre was two dollars, and some only ~1.25 a. acre, A day for us was from "can" to "can't with Just enough time off at noon to sit down and eat a bite.

It was June 9, 1934 that Dad died. He was buried in the Plains- burg Cemetery and after that date I never worked out again. We boys worked as partners farming cotton for several years.

Edna and Luther (Townsend) moved out here in late Fall of 1933 and the next Spring they got a farm near us at E1 Nido and made enough to buy a place of their own near Chowchilla and lived on it until this date, Luther died there November 8, 1965.

Fate Kile and Russ Harris were tenant farming when we arrived here in 1930, and within a short time had saved enough to purchase their own places Fate died April 30, 1957 and left Ethel with a nice home on their ranch. She sold the ranch and moved into a house she had purchased in Chowchilla, in where she now lives.

Ross and Ella bought their first place about 1933. Ross had worked for wages since coming from Oklahoma about 1925. They had two girls and a boy. The boy, Tommy's was in the marines and killed in action near Imo Jima during the war, (He was killed on an aircraft carrier. Doyal)

The last to arrive was Lloyd and Cecil with their five children. Later, the caboose was born, Almadale. Then the second caboose, Patsy arrived, and was attached to the same train. They spent five days on the road from Coleman, Oklahoma, arriving on Sunday, October 14, 1934. The following year they leased a place near Bethel. The following year they purchased a place near Dairyland, where they live today. LeeRoy was in his third year of high school when they arrived and finished at Chowchilla All of Lloyd's children graduated from high school at the same place All stayed near after marrying and now there are twenty, or more grandchildren, and a great grandson.

My mother, the family pillar of spiritual strength, died quite suddenly at Edna's home August 16, 1960. She was laid to rest along- side my father in the Plainsburg Cemetery.

In one way or another, each of us found what we wanted, or what we had to be content to live with. It was not easy, because the skies had a reputation that had been well publicized, and the natives had to learn that we were not that type of people, and this came slowly. Then too. we had to learn that all people were much like us and the only way a person can learn these things is through personal contact.

I know now that life is not in black or white, but various shades of gray That the picture is not of clear cut edges, but a little frayed that there are three types of people, good ones, bad ones, and those like me. Which is much in majority. Now I know that all people are more or less alike, regardless of their race, creed, religion or politics. But it took a while to learn these things. But as we became accustomed to these things, most of our social prob- lems vanished, and we truly became a part of this community.

We prospered ! not necessarily in material things. However, we did all right in that aspects None of us became wealthy but we accumulated enough for our modest needs. It is hard to be satisfied with just "enough so many waste their lives trying to gain enough for "secur- ity" when there is no such thing as "enough", and the only security anyone ever acquires is found in a spiritual life.

And the family grew At a recent family reunion, we had 126 in attendance. Not all were relatives, but if all of us had been there t we would have had 150 or more Recently, Emma said that no one around Chowchilla dared say anything against us since they are afraid they may be talking to one of us. And, I heard of the time when the preach- er of the First Baptist Church in Chowchilla asked those related to the Gudgel family arise, and one-half of the congregation arose. We know these statements are exaggerated, but, in a way, the growth of our family is summarized 7 not in numbers, but in the respect of the people. As I once said, I do not boast, it just seems that way.

Floyd and most of his family live at Seattle. All of us other brothers and sisters live within 30 miles of each others so we are fre- quently together But each have their separate families Children, grandchildren, and in some cases, great-grandchildren. My generation is passing the torch unto the next group we spanned the age from horsepower to atomic power, I know that we failed in many ways but I believe it is a better world to live in now than when we took charge. The present generation is untrained 9 but I have faith in them. They have the material needed to overcome obstacles. Indeed, they have failed to get training as we did, but each On their own way will learn that which is needed.

The story written by John Steinbeck called "The Grapes of Wrath", portrays the Okies as a vulgar speaking, illiterate, and down-trodden people. I know that this is as good a description as could be ex- pected from someone who does not know anything about us. However, the spirit of the people is captured in this book. When I hear anyone speak of any sect of people in a general classification, I know that speaker is not experienced or well read. No one that has had lots of personal contact with people ever speaks of them as of a high, or low moral. Within a given group of people, no matter what religion, race, creed or nationality, you will find the same given amount of moral variations. I never knew an Okie that talked in the vulgar manner as portrayed by Steinbeck, neither have I ever seen such illiterates, And, an Okie was never down-trodden. He was frequently broke finan- clally, but his head was high, and those willing to make a sacrifice, found a place in life for them....a man just has to show Chat he Xs deserving before he finds a place to plant his feet and start growing. Possibly, over one-half of the property owners of this community are Okies. Some are from Arkansas, others from Missouri, and many other places, but at one time we were strangers in this land and found a welcome.

In 1935 Lloyd and I went back to Coleman to settle the last of our business there. I took three days and I never got a chance to see any of my old friends because we were too busy and they were scattered. Then, again, twenty-five years after leaving there, I went back alone. It is true that I could not have found my way around without a map. Nothing looked the same. When I stopped at the Fillmore High school, I found that an old classmate of mine was the superintendent, and we spent some time together reminiscing old school days. I asked about a number of the old schoolmates and he knew where they all were and most of them are in California.

Three years ago I was there again and while visiting with Allen, he said that now there is only about one farmhouse to each section of land. This desertion is best shown in the schools. while ; was at Coleman High school, the entire school, (including elementary grades), was about 200 pupils. Today there are six outlying Small school dis- tricts incorporated into Coleman School and it still-has only 200 pupils, The great migration has surely ended, There are but a few.

The Great Valley, composed of the San Joaquin Valley of the sou- thern part, and the Sacramento Valley of the northern part had, and still has, lots to do to develop it. Nine out of ten drops of water that fall in the state of California fall in the northern part, while nine out of each ten drops that fall in this state are needed in the southern part. Dams to store the water behind had, and has, to be built, canals to carry this water long distances constructed, land to be leveled etc., even cities to accommodate these people. All of these things needed labor, lots of labor, and the Okies were willing. Work and opportunities were available to those willing to bend their backs the load. The same spirit needed to settle the frontier was, and still is, needed to develop this Great Valley, which is about 400 miles long and 70 miles wide. Millions have come into California, Arizona, Oregon, and Washington these past three decades, so homes, roads, schools, churches, etc., must be built to take care of them. It is a big Job, but we are a big people.

We have found that California is only good to those who are willing to earn their way through hard work and personal sacrifice. Yes, it has been good to us, and we can all say Stamen" to the remark Lloyd recently made...."The Lord was with us in our Journey to California."