"My husband wore a lot of pink underwear and ate a lot of beans that rattled," Nina told me after church one afternoon. "I got married when I was 14 and he has put up with a lot." She proceeded to tell me her entire story.
As a wife and mom, her story fascinates me as much as it did when she first told me. I was barely sixteen and thought I was in love. Filled with humor and grit, I learned a lot about the woman who sat in the fourth row from the front of our church. Nina was a woman everyone should meet.
Married at 14 and a mom at 17, Nina's life wasn't as easy for her and Ben. He was 18 when they married. He worked in the oil fields in southern Oklahoma and was gone for weeks at a time. Nina finished high school and became a housewife in the time she wasn't in school or doing her homework. She missed Ben, but knew this was their lot in life.
"I threw potatoes at him when he'd complain about my cooking," she laughed. "I moved from Momma's kitchen into my own and didn't have a clue about cooking. It takes more than three minutes to cook a three minute egg."
I had to laugh at that. She was one of the best cooks our church had. People paid top dollar for her pies and cakes at the bake sales we had. Her taco casserole and her potato salad were always the first to disappear whenever we had our monthly potlucks the last Sunday of the month.
"I'm surprised my first kids lived," she announced. "Do you know once colic starts, it doesn't go away until the start school?"
I knew all five of Nina and Ben's kids. All were active in our church. I even went to school with her youngest daughter. She and I are still close. All five of them graduated from high school, three of them with honors. Those same three went on to college, each earned both Bachelor's and Master's degrees.
Nina and Ben pinched their pennies and bought a house of their own. She described it as a three bedroom dump. She was thankful that it was well off the road and back in the hills, convinced the county would have condemned it if they had known anyone lived there. Especially a 17 year old mom with a husband that spent more time on an oil rig than at home.
"The living room floor caved in one day," she told me. "Ben was away and Dana was crawling not too far from where it fell in. I didn't know what to do. We didn't have a phone so I took boards off the porch and patched it the best I could. I couldn't tell my Daddy. He's shot me and Ben for sure for buying such a house."
Once again, they scrounged and saved. They turned it into a seven bedroom, five bathroom farmhouse with the biggest kitchen I've ever seen. I was a bride's maid in that house twice. Several people had in our community held their weddings there.
"Ben and I fought all the time the first five years. I'd threaten to go home to Momma and he'd toss me the car keys." She shook her head. "He put up with a lot of teen-age junk. I was married and didn't have a date to the prom; Ben was working that week-end. That can still get ugly if he misses the clothes hamper."
They had been married about 30 years by that time. Together, Nina and Ben teach the young married Sunday school class. If anyone knew how to stay married, those two do. I told her that not too longer as we talked about our lives as married women and mothers.
"I don't know how to make a marriage work," she said, cutting me off quickly. "We mostly tell them what not to do. I tell them to get in the Bible and stay there. And, laugh at each other. Not with each other, but at each other. Marriage is funny and anyone crazy enough to do it needs to be laughed at."
Pink underwear and beans that rattle. I guess that is what makes a marriage work. The Bible and laughter helps as well. That crazy woman Nina. Threatening to go home to Momma and complaining about a dateless prom from many, many years ago. I don't know how folks do marriage other places, but that is marriage Okie-style. Maybe my husband and I could improve our marriage if I threw potatoes.
Happy Oklahoma traveling,
Emma Riley Sutton
Showing posts with label oil. Show all posts
Showing posts with label oil. Show all posts
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Saturday Road Trips To Healdton as a Child
My Granddaddy would call early Saturday morning, asking one question, "You ready to go, Sugarfoot?"
We were on our way to the lake. Leaving Oklahoma City, we head south on I-35. Drive through Moore and past the exit to Draper Lake, pass the exit to Lake Thunderbird in Norman and take the Maysville exit. We were headed to Healdton Lake.
It wasn't just a day at the lake. It was an entire day in Healdton. To me it was the greatest place world in world spend the day. The drive was more than worth getting up early on a Saturday morning.
My Granddaddy would pull his old blue pick up into the little store in Antioch. My Granny would hand me a five dollar bill and inside I'd run. We needed two Cokes and one Dr. Pepper as well as six bags of peanuts and two beef jerkies. Once back in the truck, we'd pass out the snacks. My grandparents drank the Cokes and I had the Dr. Pepper. My Granddaddy would tear three of the bags of peanuts. We'd quickly drink some of our soda and then pour the peanuts in the glass bottles. Then back on the road. We still had to get to Healdton.
My Granddaddy and Granny would tell me stories about when they were my age. I loved sitting between them, drinking my Dr. Pepper with peanuts and eating my beef jerky. I heard all about picking cotton, gathering eggs and surviving this thing they called The Great Depression.
Time flew by and soon we were at the intersection in Ratliff City. We'd wave at folks we didn't know and my anticipation would increase by the second. Only about 10 more miles to Healdton.
We'd stop in the Wooldridge grocery store. Granny and I would get out to do our shopping as my Grandaddy talked to whoever pulled up next to his truck. Granny and I would head straight to the back of the storey store. We were going to get some bologna. Not just any bologna, in a package. Mr. Wooldridge would cut it from a huge block behind his meat counter. He would cut it really thick and wrap it in white paper.
As he cut the bologna, we'd shop. Over to the north side of the store,cut it fro out the watermelon, usually straight from Rush Springs, or some cantaloupe. We'd buy all sorts of vegetables, too - tomatoes, carrots, celery and radishes. Back to the meat counter and we'd grab a loaf of bread, several more sodas, a bag of ice and some mustard. Checking out, we had all we needed for a great lunch.
By the time we reached the Comanche Y, I could barely sit still. We'd take that long curve a few miles further south and we were in Healdton. Past the Otasco and Ben Franklin, we head for Healdton Lake.
We'd spend the rest of the morning looking for interesting rocks and pretty flowers. By noon all three of us were starving. Granddaddy would get the plastic forks and knives from the glove compartment and we'd eat lunch.
Not once did we ever go swimming. I didn't know how and it seemed a little a strange to get in the water when there were so many interesting things to do along the shore. We'd look robins, scissor-tail flycatchers and mockingbirds. Occasionally, we'd get a glimpse of a cardinal or bluebird. My favorite bird, sparrows, were always around.
We'd leave Healdton and head to the Healdton Oil Museum. Granddaddy would show me all the pictures of the old equipment he used working in the oil fields. Granny would cry and tell me about a childhood friend or distant relative that lost a finger or his life working in an oil field somewhere in Oklahoma. My grandparents would talk to the folks coming and going into the museum; they swap stories of "back then" and how things had changed so much.
Much too early, it was time to head back home. We'd take pass the Comanche Y, Wooldridge's store and the intersection at Ratliff City. Soon we'd be waving good-bye to Antioch. Back on I-35, this time heading north, we'd be home in no time.
Many of you may wonder what is so significant about those little road trips. That is easy to explain. My family and I make that some trip as often as we can now, but it is so much different. The store in Antioch was closed years ago. We now pull into the convenient store at the intersection in Ratliff to buy our sodas and peanuts. They certainly taste different in plastic bottles. The Wooldridge store is also closed so we buy our lunch at the grocery store in Healdton, packaged sandwich meat. Thankfully, the watermelon is still from Rush Springs.
I tell my grandparents stories to my daughter and husband. My husband never worked in the oil field so he finds their stories almost as captivating as I did. My daughter points at the Comanche Y the way I did. She knows we are almost there. We stop at the Healdton Oil Museum first. We all know how to swim so we spend the afternoon at the lake instead of the morning.
I have yet to tell my husband it would be faster to take the Springer exit off of I-35. If I did that, I'd miss out on all the memories. He probably knows it anyway. He understands the importance of me going the same way. It wouldn't be a trip to Healdton if we did it another way.
Ya'll need to wander down that way, the same way, we do. It is a little off the beaten the path, but the road is good and the scenery is beautiful. Keep in mind I am biased, though. Share your family's stories as you go. Make some new memories to share on your next trip. Double check to make sure your watermelon is from Rush Springs. They grow them better there.
Happy Oklahoma traveling,
Emma Riley Sutton
We were on our way to the lake. Leaving Oklahoma City, we head south on I-35. Drive through Moore and past the exit to Draper Lake, pass the exit to Lake Thunderbird in Norman and take the Maysville exit. We were headed to Healdton Lake.
It wasn't just a day at the lake. It was an entire day in Healdton. To me it was the greatest place world in world spend the day. The drive was more than worth getting up early on a Saturday morning.
My Granddaddy would pull his old blue pick up into the little store in Antioch. My Granny would hand me a five dollar bill and inside I'd run. We needed two Cokes and one Dr. Pepper as well as six bags of peanuts and two beef jerkies. Once back in the truck, we'd pass out the snacks. My grandparents drank the Cokes and I had the Dr. Pepper. My Granddaddy would tear three of the bags of peanuts. We'd quickly drink some of our soda and then pour the peanuts in the glass bottles. Then back on the road. We still had to get to Healdton.
My Granddaddy and Granny would tell me stories about when they were my age. I loved sitting between them, drinking my Dr. Pepper with peanuts and eating my beef jerky. I heard all about picking cotton, gathering eggs and surviving this thing they called The Great Depression.
Time flew by and soon we were at the intersection in Ratliff City. We'd wave at folks we didn't know and my anticipation would increase by the second. Only about 10 more miles to Healdton.
We'd stop in the Wooldridge grocery store. Granny and I would get out to do our shopping as my Grandaddy talked to whoever pulled up next to his truck. Granny and I would head straight to the back of the storey store. We were going to get some bologna. Not just any bologna, in a package. Mr. Wooldridge would cut it from a huge block behind his meat counter. He would cut it really thick and wrap it in white paper.
As he cut the bologna, we'd shop. Over to the north side of the store,cut it fro out the watermelon, usually straight from Rush Springs, or some cantaloupe. We'd buy all sorts of vegetables, too - tomatoes, carrots, celery and radishes. Back to the meat counter and we'd grab a loaf of bread, several more sodas, a bag of ice and some mustard. Checking out, we had all we needed for a great lunch.
By the time we reached the Comanche Y, I could barely sit still. We'd take that long curve a few miles further south and we were in Healdton. Past the Otasco and Ben Franklin, we head for Healdton Lake.
We'd spend the rest of the morning looking for interesting rocks and pretty flowers. By noon all three of us were starving. Granddaddy would get the plastic forks and knives from the glove compartment and we'd eat lunch.
Not once did we ever go swimming. I didn't know how and it seemed a little a strange to get in the water when there were so many interesting things to do along the shore. We'd look robins, scissor-tail flycatchers and mockingbirds. Occasionally, we'd get a glimpse of a cardinal or bluebird. My favorite bird, sparrows, were always around.
We'd leave Healdton and head to the Healdton Oil Museum. Granddaddy would show me all the pictures of the old equipment he used working in the oil fields. Granny would cry and tell me about a childhood friend or distant relative that lost a finger or his life working in an oil field somewhere in Oklahoma. My grandparents would talk to the folks coming and going into the museum; they swap stories of "back then" and how things had changed so much.
Much too early, it was time to head back home. We'd take pass the Comanche Y, Wooldridge's store and the intersection at Ratliff City. Soon we'd be waving good-bye to Antioch. Back on I-35, this time heading north, we'd be home in no time.
Many of you may wonder what is so significant about those little road trips. That is easy to explain. My family and I make that some trip as often as we can now, but it is so much different. The store in Antioch was closed years ago. We now pull into the convenient store at the intersection in Ratliff to buy our sodas and peanuts. They certainly taste different in plastic bottles. The Wooldridge store is also closed so we buy our lunch at the grocery store in Healdton, packaged sandwich meat. Thankfully, the watermelon is still from Rush Springs.
I tell my grandparents stories to my daughter and husband. My husband never worked in the oil field so he finds their stories almost as captivating as I did. My daughter points at the Comanche Y the way I did. She knows we are almost there. We stop at the Healdton Oil Museum first. We all know how to swim so we spend the afternoon at the lake instead of the morning.
I have yet to tell my husband it would be faster to take the Springer exit off of I-35. If I did that, I'd miss out on all the memories. He probably knows it anyway. He understands the importance of me going the same way. It wouldn't be a trip to Healdton if we did it another way.
Ya'll need to wander down that way, the same way, we do. It is a little off the beaten the path, but the road is good and the scenery is beautiful. Keep in mind I am biased, though. Share your family's stories as you go. Make some new memories to share on your next trip. Double check to make sure your watermelon is from Rush Springs. They grow them better there.
Happy Oklahoma traveling,
Emma Riley Sutton
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