BON WIER’S BIG DAY

July 4th 1931, dawned bright and clear in Bon Wier, Texas and as usual at this time of year was soon as “hot as blue blazes”. Everyone for miles around had been planning for this day. Today, the new bridge over the Sabine River would be officially opened and anyone who owned an automobile could buzz across and arrive in Merryville or DeRidder, Louisiana in no time at all.

All this was happening in the middle of the “deep depression” and a function of this nature would surely lift the spirits of people in this part of East Texas and West Louisiana. It was supposedly well planned in every detail, or so, they thought, from the visiting dignitaries and their speeches right down to the thousands of pounds of barbecue and potato salad which they would serve the thousands of people they hoped would attend and enjoy this “Gala Event”.

Some years had gone into the building of the bridge and there had been loss of life in the process, now those things could be left in the past and today would be a joyous occasion of feasting and merry-making. Although everyone was thankful for the new bridge, the main attraction, no doubt, would be the sumptuous meal of barbecued beef, which was sadly lacking on most tables in those depression days.

My Mother had, decided early on, that she would take me and my younger brother and sister to the big event so we were up bright and early getting ready for our walk to the river. Other Bon Wier residents were also walking since not many owned automobiles. If they had, they had, like my Mother been stripped of their Model T. Fords when the depression hit. So, we walked along together, breathing in the dust from automobiles of others more fortunate than we.

Being only nine years old, I don’t remember much of the planned programs of the day but I do know that they didn’t turn out as planned. One of the main attractions was to have been the appearance of then Louisiana Governor Huey P. Long but for some unknown reason, he was a “no show”. Perhaps he wasn’t happy because the “shindig” was on the Texas side of the river. I was only nine years old and I could see there was no suitable place on the Louisiana side.

My Aunt Minnie Fuller’s husband, Arrie Fuller, was into politics and during the days events, I observed that he was driving his fine car back and forth across the bridge all day long. I don’t know if he heard any speeches or even whether he got any of the barbecue and potato salad but he sure was enjoying that new bridge.

When lunchtime came (I think it was a late one) all bedlam broke loose and in no time flat, all the food was gone and we hadn’t gotten one bite nor anything to drink. I felt so sorry for my poor Mother! She just got her three children and tired, hungry, thirsty and very disappointed, headed for Bon Wier and home. I knew she didn’t feel like walking home but what other choice did we have? Suddenly a car stopped and Mother realized they were acquaintances from a nearby community. They invited us into their car and they drove us home. I’ve often wondered—did this just happen or was it another answer to one of my Mother’s prayers.

Ruby Ray Boyett Burkett





SABINE RIVER TALES

The Sabine River has, since the early days, been a vital part of life for those living near it. It was also an asset during the Civil War years and played a vital part in that conflict. My GG-grandfather, William Hawley Stark, was an early settler of Newton Co., Texas. He had a thriving warehouse along the banks of the Sabine River, serving steam-boats,
carrying their cargoes up and down the river. It seems that he branched out and added to his business ventures through the years and was a very influential man in Newton County. He, at some time, during the early years engaged in rafting logs down the river to Orange, Texas.

This story was handed down, by William Hawley to his sons and one of them, the youngest, Adam Lackey, told the story to his son, George Robert. His son, Travis Adam has just passed the story on to me. It’s to good to keep hidden so I now pass it on to any interested relative as a part of the Stark family history.
As was the custom in rafting logs, a raft would be constructed on the logs, this serving as a place to camp, sleep and prepare meals on the trip down river. He was accompanied by his dog and always carried his trusted gun—a must in those days.

When he reached Orange and disposed of his logs, he would discard the raft and begin the long trek back along the river toward Belgrade and home. It seemed there would always be stray dogs ready to follow he and his dog. It is unknown how far the stray dogs went but on this trek, they were still with the pair when they treed something in a hollow log. William was unable to detect what it was, only that it was a dark color. He shot into the log and very quickly discovered it to be a young bear. Before he could reload his gun, he was attacked by the mother bear and was badly scratched up---also lost most of his clothing. When he finally arrived home, he hid himself in the brush and called the family to bring him more clothes before he could show himself. 

I would imagine that he was very careful from that time forward that he would not place himself in such a dangerous situation again.
I’d say it was a lesson well learned!

Ruby Burkett


ANOTHER SABINE RIVER TALE

Logging was the principal industry in East Texas in the late 1800s and the early 1900s and most of the men in my Boyett family were loggers. They followed the logging camps as they moved around in the Newton and Jasper County areas. I was born too late to know my Boyett grandparents but learned about them through stories told to me by my parents and through other sources.

This Sabine River Tale reached me many years later and I’m sure many of the Boyett descendants still have not heard it. In writing the story it is my wish that it will reach many more of the younger Boyetts who may not realize how difficult life was for those who paved the way for we who live so well because of their efforts in the early days.

This story came to light in a Beaumont Enterprise article written by the late Ralph Ramos, as related to him by the late Harrison Davis of Bon Wier Texas. The article concerned logging and sawmills in the East Texas Counties of Newton and Orange.

My grandfather, John Wesley Boyett was one of those men who rafted logs down the Sabine River to Orange, Texas. As was customary in those days. If there were boys in the family who were old enough to help, they became their dad’s partner in the operation. Grandfather John Wesley’s partner was his eldest son Noah “Noan” Jackson. This was a dangerous job and carried many risks. Quoting Harrison Davis (a relative of ours on the Stark side): The log drivers wore caulks on the soles or heels of their shoes to enable them to keep their footing when the bark slipped away beneath their feet. There were few accidents as loggers herded the logs, like cattle, down the river. Un fortunately an accident could happen even to the more dexterous of loggers. One of these was with my uncle Noan. One day he broke up a log jam and in so doing, he slipped and fell into the water, the current pulling him under the rolling logs. Grandfather John Wesley was nearby and spotted an opening between the tumbling logs, he supposed uncle Noan would surface there. When he came up he grabbed him by the hair of his head and pulled him onto the logs. The opening was just a few feet wide and it would seem almost impossible that such a rescue could have happened. I would like to think my grandfather
John Wesley had some help from up above.

Written by Ruby Boyett Burkett



THE BROOKELAND BOTTLING WORKS

The Brookeland Bottling Works was established in the year 1923 or near that time. I was four years old at the time and may not remember as much as my sister Berneice does, since she was two years older than I. In fact, I don’t recall the business ever having been in Remlig. My memories are of the Brookeland operation. Dallas was just a baby, having been born on August 1, 1923. It seems likely, as Berneice says, that his footprint would be in the concrete foundation of the bottling works. After all, he was the baby of the family. I remember the Mr. White who was involved in the operation of the plant but don’t know whether he was an employee or a partner. I do know that he lived with us, from the beginning up to almost the time daddy went out of business. I do think he slept upstairs in the building. Charlton and Pauline were more involved in helping in the operation than were Berneice and I. They were older and capable of assuming the more responsible jobs, however, Berneice and I were allowed to assist in some of the lesser parts of the bottle cleaning. In those days, there was no such thing as deposits on bottles so people just threw them away when they were finished with their drinks. While Daddy was making his deliveries, he always kept an eye out for bottles and would stop and pick up any that he spotted along the way. Consequently, the cleaning process was no easy feat. Berneice and I were delegated to place the bottles into a rotating cylinder, which carried them through a large hot water tank---the water being heated by a kerosene burner. From the hot water tank, the bottles were then dumped into a cool water tank from which they were taken and washed again with bottle brushes and placed in bottle crates. The drinks were mixed in a large crock in the attic, one flavor at a time, and piped through a siphoning hose to the bottling machine downstairs. It was a slow process since we made all the fruit flavors and also cream sodas. The cream sodas were one of the favorite drinks in those days, being flavored with vanilla. Daddy always did the filling and capping of the bottles. When Charlton was about fourteen years of age, Daddy gave him a promotion—he let him do some of the deliveries. I don’t recall ever going with him on a delivery but Pauline and Dallas did. On one of the deliveries he decided to show them he could steer with his feet but ran off the road and the truck overturned. No one was injured and some men assisted in righting the truck and they continued their deliveries. I do remember making a delivery with Daddy and somewhere along the way we stopped at a barbecue stand and bought barbecued goat from a black man. The barbecue was so hot with pepper, I was hardly able to eat any of it. I probably got a hot soda of some kind. When we were good helpers, we were rewarded with a swimming trip to the creek in the afternoons when all the work was done. The whole family enjoyed those outings. They made makeshift water wings for us by putting two syrup cans in sacks and tying the sack in the center. I think they tied a small inner-tube under Dallas’s arms so he could swim with the rest of us. It didn’t take much to make children happy in those days. In 1927, changes began to take place--- the sawmills began to shut down and people moved away and the Brookeland Bottling Works became a victim of the Depression. Daddy had to seek other means of making a living for his family. We moved away from Brookeland and our lives were forever changed. Now, Berneice and I are the only remaining members of our family and both of us are in our eighties but we will always hold dear the memories of those years in Brookeland and our part in the operation of the Brookeland Bottling Works which our Daddy established so many years ago. Alricks Henry Burkett Typed and compiled by Ruby Ray Boyett Burkett June 23, 2003

MEMORIES OF THE BROOKELAND BOTTLING WORKS

According to Berneice Burkett Rashall
June 23 2003
As a little girl in Remlig, Texas, I remember my Dad, Henry Burkett and a man by the name of Van White being in the bottling works together. I think their works were located in the town of Brookeland in a two story building across the Santa Fe tracks from the main part of town. It seems the building was broken into several times, so Dad decided to move to Brookeland and build a new work place. I was about six years old at that time so it must have been about 1923. That was the year Dallas was born , and he was born in Brookeland. Daddy poured a concrete floor and set in what he needed to operate. After awhile he needed to upgrade everything. He dug a 10 foot well and put a force pump in it. He set up a wood heater outside the works and ran water pipes through it from the well. With a hot fire burning in the heater. It was my job to fill a rotating container with empties and Pauline and Charlton did the brushing and rinsing. Daddy operated the filling machine and the liquid ran down by gravity as he mixed the soda water in an upstairs room which was screened in. He sold about six flavors of soda in Brookeland, Remlig, Pineland and all between.

Sorry, the crash of ’29 got him as it did many others





LIFE IN THE 1930S



The 1930’s were difficult years for the young men and women of East Texas, indeed, for all youth of the United States of America. The “ great depression” had altered the lives of young and old alike, yet in different ways. The depression had begun in 1929, earlier for some families. 
For those of us who were struggling to complete our High School educations, some of us lacking proper clothing and other needful items, many dropped out looking for some means of providing financial help for their families. My husband, Alricks Henry Burkett was one of those who opted to do just that although options were few. 
There was the Public Works Administration for older men but he was not eligible for that. However there was a program which had been established for younger men. Millions of young men would take advantage of that program.
The Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), was an agency authorized by the government to hire unemployed young men for conservation work. The Corps was set up as part of the New Deal program of 1933 and formally organized by an act of Congress in 1937. It provided training and employment. The CCC conserved and developed natural resources by such activities as planting trees, building dams, building roads, and irrigation canals and fighting forest fires. They also constructed needed buildings in State and National Parks. Many of those still stand today as a memorial to those young men who built them so many years ago. There are buildings in Terrell Park in Beaumont Texas, where we now live, which were built by the CCC boys. More than 2 million men served in the CCC before it was abolished in 1942.

Following is his account of how he helped his family and of his service in the Civilian Conservation Corps:

My family was living in Bon Wier, Texas where my Dad was trying to farm a small acreage. Even with my help, it was not a success and finances were really tight. I so much wanted to help but was still attending Newton High School, with one more year to graduation. A decision was hard to come by but I decided to enlist in the CCC. In, May of 1937, at the age of seventeen, I went to an office in Newton and signed up for service in the CCC.
I had heard nothing so in July, I hitch-hiked to Beaumont to visit relatives. When I returned home along with a cousin who accompanied me, I found my family were not home but there was a 
letter telling me to go to Jasper, Texas for induction. 
Clyde Herrin, another Bon Wier boy had also received his notice so one of his relatives drove us to Jasper. My cousin, Bill Dickerson rode with us to Jasper and had to hitch-hike alone back to Beaumont.
Clyde and I received our physicals in Jasper and from there, went to Camp Nancy where we were issued our clothing. I was a very thin young man, about 28 inches in the waist and expected clothes that fit but that did not happen--the dungarees they gave me were 48 inches in the waist and they said that was the smallest size they had. What to do! I did get a better fit in the wool uniform they issued to me and later found a piece of rope which I tied around my waist and wore the size 48 dungarees the whole time I was in the CCC.
From Camp Nancy we went to Lufkin, Texas where we boarded a train, which would take us farther from home than we had ever been before. We traveled for four days and nights, fortunately in Pullman coaches, going through the states of Kansas, Colorado, Utah, finally reaching our destination in Klamath Falls, Oregon about midnight. Trucks were waiting for us and we were separated and driven away to different CCC Camps. Clyde and I went to the Tule Lake Camp about twenty miles from Klamath Falls. The Camp was just below the California-Oregon line. When we arrived they gave us cold-cuts to eat and then showed us where we would sleep
We were put to work in a rock crushing plant—the rocks being used in the construction of roads. We also built irrigation canals.
Our food was sufficient, I thought. Our breakfasts were the normal menu of eggs, bacon and such and the lunches we carried to work were mainly, a fried egg and bologna sandwich and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich---sometimes apple butter instead of jelly. 
In October, snow began to fall. I knew very little about snow, having come from a part of the country where snow was seldom seen. It got colder and colder and the wood and coal burning heaters were not sufficient to heat the barracks where we lived. The boys began to complain about food, heat and other things (actually all of us were probably homesick) so on Christmas Day of 1937, we found ourselves on a train, taking us back to Texas and the CCC Camp at Bastrop. Our route this time was by way of California, Arizona and to El Paso, Texas and on to Bastrop. We were split up again at Bastrop and I was sent to Garner State Park in Uvalde, Texas. I remained there a month at which time, I requested a transfer to the Camp at Jasper and soon found myself closer to my home in Newton Co. from which I had left six months earlier. I was so happy to be back in familiar territory, having been reared in Jasper Co. up to the time we had moved to Bon Wier in the early thirties. I remained in the Camp at Jasper until my enlistment was up in 1939. There was a limit of eighteen months that an enlistee could serve in the CCC. 
During those eighteen months, twenty five dollars, each month went to my family and I was able to keep five dollars for my own use. That amount would buy very little today but in those depression years it would go a long way in filling the larder with necessary food items. 
When I arrived back home, I soon discovered I was back to square one, no job and little chance of finding one. So I soon decided to try and enlist in the United States Navy. I went to Houston and had a physical, which I did not pass because of an infected ingrown toenail. They advised me to go home and take care of the problem then come back but I never made it back. I went from Houston to south Texas where my Uncle Sidney Burkett was farming and he invited me to stay and help him on the farm. 
I finally made my way to Beaumont and was employed by Pennsylvania Shipyard when on December 7, 1941 we received the shocking news that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor. It was then that I realized it had been fortunate that the Navy had not accepted me when I tried to enlist. It is highly likely that I could have been there on that infamous day. Instead I was planning to be married to my childhood sweetheart on January 10, 1942. At this writing, we have been married almost sixty two years. Who are we to try and reason why things happen the way they do? 
A few years later, after we had a little daughter, I would serve in the United States Navy although because I had been accepted into the Submarine Division, which required more training, I never saw active duty. By the time I had finished training and was assigned to the USS Pargo in Pearl Harbor, the war was over, the Japanese having surrendered.




Alricks Henry Burkett 

July 9, 2003

Typed by:
Ruby Boyett Burkett


FARM AND HOME MAGAZINE UNITES LONGTIME PEN PALS

In the year 1910, in a small community in Newton County, Texas, a young girl, fifteen year old Arcadia Imelda
Dougharty was reading a monthly “Farm and Home Magazine”, when something caught her eye. There was a section in the magazine called the “Cousins Corner” where young people could write letters soliciting pen pals from other parts of the country. In those days, life in the country could be quite dull and Imelda saw a way to add some excitement to her life. There was no Post Office in the small community of Fawil, Texas and the Dougharty family had to walk or ride horseback a round trip distance of six miles to send or pick up mail at Lees Mill, Texas. There were times when two or three weeks would pass before some family member went to the Post Office, but as soon as she could, Imelda mailed a post card to Tola Wheeler, another girl of her same age, who was living in Sedalia, Kentucky. Without a doubt, anxious days passed before Imelda received an answer to her card. But the answer finally came and what an exciting day that was, not only for Imelda but for her whole family, thus began a correspondence that lasted for many, many years. It probably never occurred to the girls that they would ever see each other but through letters and cards they developed a close relationship akin to sisters. They wrote intimate accounts of happenings in their lives and there were times when my mother Imelda would mail a thirty-eight to forty page letter. Once, when she was writing one of those letters, her brother suggested that she just write a small writing tablet full, wrap it and mail it as a package. Although, I was just a small child, I remember listening in on their conversation and agreed with my Uncle Willie that his suggestion was a good idea.
Two years after the beginning of the correspondence, Imelda, at the age of seventeen, was married to George Peavy Boyett on July 7, 1912. Imelda sent an announcement in the form of a picture post card of herself, along with a note saying she was married and was having a good time. She and her new husband were living in Call, Texas Camp 8, where his family was living. Although I don’t have a date, Tola was also married to Jasper “Jap”
Wheeler. The lives of these two pen pals were as far apart as were the states in which they lived. Jap and Tola were farmers and remained in the same area of Kentucky throughout their lives, while Imelda and George were constantly moving around East Texas, following the logging and sawmill industry, which was the principal means of employment in the 1900s. In most of the logging camps housing was furnished for the employees, albeit, they were not nice homes. When the “great depression” hit the country in the 1920s, conditions went from “bad to worse”, consequently, Imelda never was able to enjoy the stable lifestyle that Tola had.<br>
As the years passed, Imelda would write to Tola, announcing the births of children. First came Eugene Peavy, on February 1, 1914, then, eight years later on January 7, 1922, Ruby Ray was born. Four years later, on March 6, 1926 Earl Jackson made his appearance. Two years later, on July 21, 1928, another daughter, Minnie Merle was born. I’m sure Imelda thought she would be the last but on May 26, 1936 another baby girl was born—her name was Reba Ruth. Unfortunately, Reba was stillborn. I was fifteen years old and had misgivings about my mother having a baby at the age of forty-two but I will never forget seeing her cry about the loss of that baby.
During the years of Imelda’s announcing births of her babies, she never received one from Tola. For some unknown reason Tola and Jap were unable to have children. While she was not able to have children of her own, she always wrote to Imelda when her nieces and nephews were born. Along with that good news, there was occasionally sad news. At one time she wrote that her younger sister, Irene had died of tuberculosis. My mother grieved with her in the loss of her sister.
I would have thought Imelda would have named one of her daughters for Tola, but since she didn’t, I finally came to the conclusion that her sister, Georgia Mae had named her first daughter Tola before mother had the chance to do so. That baby Tola did not survive.
Imelda did not keep her letters from Tola, the reason being her having to move around so much and never having a permanent home. I watched her draw plans for the home she hoped, some day, to have but it never materialized. If Tolas letters had been kept, I’m sure they would have been filled with news about the tobacco crops they raised,
that being their money making crop. Along with that, were corn and vegetables and all the other things farmers grow to be self-sufficient.
In 1933, Eugene was married to Hattie Pauline Burkett and they had a darling little daughter they named Barbara Jean. She was our pride and joy—George’s and Imelda’s only grandchild. Shortly before she was nineteen months old, she fell backward into a tub of hot water at the home of her Burkett grandparents and died on the day she would have been nineteen months old. That sad news was written to the Wheelers in Kentucky and I know they grieved with her in the loss of her only grandchild.
Down through the years, Gene had promised Imelda that some day he would take her to see Tola, although we wondered how that could ever happen. In 1945, with the depression over and World War II seemingly coming to an end, Gene decided the time had come to fulfill his promise to our mother. By this time, he and Pauline were living in Beaumont, Texas, had two little boys, Dale and Floyd and a new Ford automobile. The trip was planned and arrangements were being made for Imelda and George to take the trip but he had to forego the trip and stay in Bon Wier, where they were operating a small café. Minnie Merle had been with them from the start of their café venture and I was there part of the time, while my husband, Alricks, was away serving in the Navy. We tried to find someone to stay with us but were not successful so our dad wouldn’t leave us. I think we could have managed, although, in the end, he decided to not go. It was a big mistake—one I always have regretted that he made. I’m sure that he, also, had many times of deep regret for the decision, after his beloved wife and soul mate passed away.

The trip was a wonderful experience for Imelda but it was bittersweet because her husband was not with her. Oh, how many times I have wished he had gone!
In February of 1946, Alricks was discharged from the Navy. On that same day my grandfather Dougharty died and the next day we attended his funeral. We soon bought a home in Beaumont, Texas. He and I and our little daughter Juana were a family again and life seemed good. Daddy had purchased a car, Earl was home from the Navy and they were living in an apartment in Newton, Texas. With Earl to do the driving, they could now come to Beaumont to visit us, we thought. Not so!
Almost immediately, we observed that Imelda was experiencing health problems. The local doctors were not able to help her so later in the year we were forced to bring her to our home in Beaumont and seek medical help, thinking the doctors here could do more for her. We soon learned that a cure was not to be and on December 26, 1946, Imelda passed away at St. Theresa Hospital.I can’t imagine why, but I thought of my mother as old when she died at the age of fifty two. How could I have thought she was old? I am now eighty-two, that is old!
My mother was gone and how was I to notify Tola. I had a phone but she didn’t have one. I had to let her know there would be no more letters from her beloved pen pal in Texas. I finally remembered an old ballad my mother had taught me when I was a child, “The Letter Edged In Black”. I hoped that would ease the shock a bit so I edged an envelope with black and mailed the letter. She later wrote me that she knew as soon as she took the letter from their rural mailbox that her pen pal was gone. Jap was not there when she opened the letter but soon came in and found her crying. Through sobs and tears, she told him her pen pal had passed away.
That letter was the beginning of the correspondence that Tola and I would continue from 1946 to 1973 when I would learn that she too, had died.
In later years, Alricks and I would find it necessary to bring my dad, George to live with our daughter, Juana and us. He was no longer able to work because of an extremely enlarged heart. Before his condition became severe enough to prohibit his being able to travel, Alricks, Juana and I took him to Tennessee and on to Kentucky to visit Tola and Jap. He enjoyed the trip and of course they were delighted to finally see him. They had read so much about him in the letters from Imelda.
David Neal, our second child was born on August 22, 1958, so he too, came in time to get in on the visits to see Tola and Jap. They thought he was special! Our trips would soon increase since Juana and her husband Mac and their daughters Sandra and Dana had moved to Nashville, Tennessee, where another daughter, Patti was born. We would always go on to Kentucky to visit, even after Jap had died. Tola always looked forward to our visits.
As Tola grew older and realized her health was failing, on one of our visits she brought out a box and told me she wanted me to have it—it was the letters my mother had written to her and a small New Testament and a pair of fancy satin garters which mother had sent her years ago. Also in the box were letters that I had written to her and also several my sister, Minnie Merle had written to her. Minnie’s family had also visited her while they were on vacation one summer. Earl is the only one she was never able to see.
At the time she gave them to me, there was very little I could do with them except to add them to my mementos I had kept for most of my life. I am a keeper! In the last few letters I had received from her, she told me she had sold her “old home place” because she was no longer able to take care of it. She was then living in a new home that would be much easier to keep up and was urging us to come for a visit. I regret that we were unable to go. I just didn’t realize that time was running out—Tola would soon be gone. She had alerted me that she wasn’t well physically, and I should have known.
I received a telephone call from Ruth Evitts, Tola’s niece, daughter of her sister Clarice. She told me that Tola had passed away. Pearl Norsworthy, her neighbor and friend, had gone to check on her and found her lying, unconscious, on the kitchen floor She was taken to the hospital where she died without regaining consciousness.

I wired flowers from her “Texas Children” which is what she called us—it would be the last thing we would ever do for our beloved Tola, who had been a part of our lives since the day we were born.
After sixty-three years, an era was over—a long time correspondence ended, but what a rewarding sixty-three years it had been!Now there is something I can do with my mother’s letters. Computers have made this a whole new world!
Floyd, Bobee and I are going to copy the letters and along with pictures and this story they will be put into book form which can be shared with interested family members and any other persons who would like to read this remarkable story. It is our desire that this remarkable story will be passed on to future generations of our family for many years to come.
<br>
Ruby Ray Boyett Burkett
February 5, 2004
1630 Reynolds Rd
Beaumont, Texas 77707-2626













NEW MALE TEACHER


My first meeting with Hardy Homer Powell was in the early 1930s when he came to Bon
Wier, Newton Co., Texas as principal and teacher at the small four room school that I
attended. His wife’s brother, Simon Henry Burkett along with his wife Devillie Jeffers
Burkett and their family had recently moved from Jasper Co. to Bon Wier and may have
been instrumental in his getting the job there. With the exception of one male teacher
who I had known all my life, my teachers had been females. Being a timid young girl, I
didn’t take to kindly to a strange teacher especially a man.
From the beginning, I felt intimidated by Mr. Powell and I don’t think I was the only
student who felt the same way. There was something different about his demeanor but we
learned he was a good teacher, just different. One of the first things I noticed about Mr. Powell was that his penmanship was
especially good for a man—definitely better than any man I knew. We soon learned why. He quickly let we students know that he expected us to begin using the muscular movement method of writing and we did ovals and push-pulls over and over and over again. I think he finally gave up on us and moved on to other things. He was a good history teacher and I think he was the one who created, in me, a love for history. At one point he decided that I should speak to the P. T. A. and that my subject would be the Woman’s Suffrage Movement. Was I scared? You bet I was! I would have done just about anything to get out of that assignment but there was no way out, not with Mr. Powell. I survived and wonder of wonders, received compliments from the ladies (which is who the P, T. A. was made up of) in those days. Little did I think at the time he was my teacher that the time would come when I would be calling him Uncle Hardy. My older brother Eugene Peavy Boyett was married to Hattie Pauline Burkett in 1934 so I learned more about Hardy and Hattie Burkett Powell. I now had more exposure to them. I must say they were about the oddest couple I had ever seen—she was a tiny little thing and he was, as I remember him, a large man. He went his way and she went hers, of course the fact that they had no children, made a difference. I had never seen a woman who smoked cigarettes until I met Aunt Hattie—she rolled her own, using Prince Albert tobacco—that was an oddity to us since, in our community only men smoked. Another thing about Aunt Hattie was that everywhere she went, she carried a quart fruit jar filled with iced tea. If there was anything she loved, it was her cigarettes and iced tea. In 1942, I became part of the Burkett family when I, Ruby Ray Boyett, was married to Alricks Henry Burkett. At that time the Burkett family was living in Beaumont, Texas and I would be seeing Hardy Powell more often. I soon learned that Elizabeth Hightower Powell, widow of Elbert Powell was living in Beaumont, with her daughter Lillie Powell Wood. Elizabeth was the daughter of Martha Jane Zeigler Hightower and my mother-in-law, Devillie Jeffers Burkett was the daughter of Nancy Elizabeth Zeigler Jeffers. First cousins were like sisters in the old days. Cousin Elizabeth and Devillie were very close. I very quickly learned that Hardy Powell also had a close relationship with Cousin Elizabeth and would be a frequent visitor in the homes of both these women. I don’t recall our ever discussing his years of teaching in Bon Wier although I did have opportunity to visit with him many times. While Alricks was away during his military service during World War II, our little daughter Juana and I lived in a trailer home which we had parked in his parents back yard. She also saw Uncle Hardy often and he really tried to make friends with her but for some reason she was a bit intimidated by him, as I had been years earlier. I realized how she felt about him when I began hearing her refer to him as “Uncle Nobody”. I’ll never know how she came up with that name, being about three years old, but I suppose Art Linkletter was correct when he said, “children say the darndest things”. As we now know Uncle Hardy Homer is buried in the Townsend Cemetery where his Powell kin are also buried. There is a double marker at his grave with Hattie’s name and birth date on it but she is not buried there. At the time of her death and for years before, she had been living in Houston, Texas with some of her nieces. It seems they must have decided to bury her in the Hebron Cemetery where most of the Burketts are buried. Alricks and I discovered this about two or three years ago while visiting different cemeteries in that area. I think it’s sad! Ruby Ray Boyett Burkett October 1, 2003

EVANGELISTIC VENTURES

During the summer of 1938, prior to my graduation from Newton High School, I was involved in an evangelistic venture with The Reverend Joe Cofty, pastor of our church in Bon Wier, and his daughter Beatrice. This would be my first experience in assisting in revivals, but would not be the last.



Brother Cofty was contacted by one of my distant cousins, Aubrey Rashall, who was pastoring the Pentecostal Church in Silsbee, Texas. They had just concluded a lengthy revival in which a lady from Three Rivers, Texas, who had been visiting relatives who attended the Silsbee Church, had been converted to the Pentecostal Faith. It seems Aubrey had advised her to extend her visit until the time she had received the Holy Ghost and had been baptized in the name of Jesus, which she did.

The plan was, that we would drive from Bon Wier to Silsbee, pick up the lady, very early in the morning, and drive from there to Three Rivers which would be a full days journey. At no time were we advised that there was a problem between the Lady and her husband because of her extended stay in Silsbee. Although we had left Bon Wier long before daybreak, it was indeed a full days journey and was late at night when we reached our destination. We were far out in the country from Three Rivers. It was then that we knew something just wasn’t right, we had turned off the main country road onto a private lane, when she asked Brother Cofty to stop and let her go up to the home and speak with her husband. Were we frightened? Yes, we were! We had no idea what was going on but we knew something was wrong. After some time and many anxious moments for the three of us, she returned and said we could come on up to the house. They prepared a meal for us and we retired for the night. We later learned that he had his gun ready and was going to shoot the minister who had delayed her homecoming. Apparently she had to do some explaining before he realized that we were innocent and had nothing to do with her long absence.

The next morning, as had been prearranged, we went to her sister’s home, where we remained for our stay there. They were so kind to us and treated us as family, our meals were delicious and of course, Beatrice and I always washed the dishes after meals and did any other chores we could. We will never know what we accomplished there, only God knows that, but I do know the day we left, we all knelt and had prayer and the sisters and their husbands cried. It had rained for days and the three rivers were flooding and had washed out the bridge we would have to cross. When the bridge was repaired and crossable, ours was the first car across. We learned a lesson, the hard way, that when the rivers flooded, Three Rivers was not a good place to be. Our primary concern was to get back to Bon Wier, as quickly as possible but we encountered more bad weather and were forced to spend the night at an “old time hotel” in George West, Texas. The following morning, we traveled on to Houston, and once again, found it necessary to delay our journey home, due to inclement weather. We stayed the night with one of Brother Cofty’s sisters, however, we slept very little, as we were right in the center of heavy storms and tornados. When we finally arrived in Bon Wier, we were, to say the least, extremely happy! My next priority was to finish high school, which I accomplished in the spring of 1939, when I was graduated from Newton High School. In the class prophesy, it was stated that I would become an English teacher, which of course did not happen. As much as I would have liked to continue my education, college was not an option for me. There was no way I could have financed a higher education. In the early summer after graduation, a young couple, with an infant son, conducted a revival in our church at Bon Wier. We knew the wife of the evangelist, having become acquainted with her some years earlier, when she lived with the W. E. Caughron family who had pastored the Bon Wier church. When the revival was over, they were preparing to move on to Burkeville where they were to begin a “brush arbor revival” as there was no church building there at the time. They visited my parents, George and Imelda Boyett and asked their permission for me to accompany them. They agreed, and having just graduated and not knowing what to do, I was happy for the opportunity. The revival was a success, so much so that we needed more help. The couple enlisted the aid of friends from Louisiana. The revival continued for weeks and at the conclusion, the evangelists, Thomas and Ruby Dykes, were asked to stay on as pastors of the church. The other workers went back to Louisiana and I returned to Bon Wier. In November of 1939, my assistance was, again needed, when another young couple were engaged to hold a revival in Bay City, Texas. This time I would be going with Aubrey and Berneice Rashall. Aubrey was the distant cousin mentioned in the Three Rivers story. They had also enlisted the aid of a young man from the Bon Wier Church. An elder minister who had been in our area and was badly in need of help since his church had recently experienced a division. We left Bon Wier, early one morning and drove as far as Houston, where the old minister parted company with us and continued on to Bay City by train. He was to get everything in place for our arrival. We stayed the night with Aubrey’s brother and his wife. Aubrey’s wife Berneice, was the sister of my friend and future husband, Alricks Burkett. At this time, he was residing in Sargent, a short distance from Bay City. We had been informed that we would be living in a rental property, owned by a dear sister Orchard and that we must be sure to let her know how we appreciated her letting us live in her house. She was a member of the church of which Brother Shearer was the pastor and where we would be evangelizing. Our expectations were that the living situation would be quite comfortable. It was after dark when we arrived in Bay City and not knowing where to find the house, we went to the Shearer home and then, were escorted to the residence, which we would occupy during our stay there. We were totally unprepared for what we found! The house was a large, old and very unkempt structure with meager furnishings and no heat. It was damp and cold. November in that coastal area can be quite uncomfortable. In addition to dealing with inferior living quarters, we discovered we would be preparing our meals on a mal-functioning oil burning cook-stove, cooking utensils, dishes and flatware at a bare minimum. Because of the depression, we were accustomed to making do but the first morning when we cooked our oatmeal and were ready to eat we discovered things were worse than we thought. There were only four spoons and six people to eat. To solve this problem, Herman and I ate oatmeal with a fork and Aubrey, Berneice and the boys used the spoons. The next morning, Herman and I used the spoons and they used the forks---and so it went the whole time we were there, I think oatmeal was all we had for breakfast and I decided that I could starve eating oatmeal with a fork. You may wonder why we didn’t run down to the store and buy some spoons---wonder no longer, we had no money. What did we cook for our other meals? Not much! Winter- greens were in and the folks who had gardens brought turnip greens—I can’t remember having any meat except on the days we had to do laundry. We went to the Shearers to use their wringer washer and we ate lunch there. She canned her own sauerkraut and we usually had sauerkraut and wieners, which we enjoyed very much. I admired Sister Shearer, she was a devoted wife, mother and grandmother. Herman had been trying to convince us that he had heard strange noises in the night but he didn’t convince us. We were finally told that a woman had committed suicide by hanging herself in the back hallway of the house and that some people who had, since, lived there claimed they had heard footsteps in the hallway during the night. During the course of the revival, Alricks attended service one night and we were happy to see him. Berneice had heard of a sale at one of the Bay City stores and she asked him to go and look for shoes for both of us. He returned with two pairs for her and one pair for me—the price of the shoes, ten cents per pair. The revival continued for two weeks, and in our opinion, was not successful, as far as new converts were concerned. We can only hope we helped the members who were mainly elderly women. At the time of our departure, Brother Shearer gave Aubrey and Herman, five dollars, each and Berneice and I received fifty cents each. Years later, in reminiscing, Berneice said, “you and I did all the work and they got the pay”. Such as it was! Although, times were still difficult, it was good to be going home. The thought of returning to Bon Wier was very appealing! Although I was happy to be home, there were decisions to be made. What could I do—I couldn’t sit home and do nothing. There were no jobs to be had so I decided to apply to get in the government program, which had been established for young women as the Civilian Conservation Corps had been for the young men. The young women’s program was called the National Youth Administration or N. Y. A. I was accepted and lived in Jasper in the N. Y. A. home two weeks out of the month, there being two alternating shifts. We worked in offices in downtown Jasper. I remained there until my brother Eugene and his wife Pauline lost their little daughter, Barbara in a tragic accident. They needed me at home so I left the N. Y. A. before my time was up. I later worked in a General Mercantile Store but felt there was something better that I could do—I just didn’t know what that something was. It was at this time our pastor, Brother Cofty, asked if I would accompany he and Beatrice in another evangelistic venture in Louisiana. My answer was a definite yes. So began another phase of my life, which I will write about in another story. Written by Ruby Ray Boyett Burkett April 5, 2004


IMELDA THE GUARDIAN ANGEL


On November 5, 1894, the first child of George Bowman Dougharty and Maude P. Lewis Dougharty was born. That daughter was my mother, Arcadia Imelda Dougharty. As the years passed, they became the parents of six more daughters and three sons, quite a large family. The next to last daughter lived a short five months and even before her birth, grandmother Maude had developed health problems which would at the young age of fifty two years cause her demise.

Although I was only four years of age at the time of her last illness, I have vivid memories of accompanying my mother on her frequent trips to my grandparents home to help care for her and to assist with the daily house hold chores. Daddy was employed by Kirby Lumber Company and we were fortunate to own a Model T touring car. Without the car, 
I can’t imagine how mother would ever have managed taking care of two households.

Even before grandmother Maude died, I remember times when one of mother’s sisters and her children would find it necessary to come to live with us. Her husband would suddenly disappear and be gone for weeks or months, then as suddenly as he had left, he would reappear and always knew where to find his family. One of those times, he arrived about midnight---no explanation of where he had been or what he had been doing.
That was the time he threw one of his temper tantrums and while mother was cooking supper on a wood-burning stove, he removed one of the eyes and threw a small Bible into the fire. I remember how desperately mother tried to retrieve the Bible from the fire but to no avail. She never forgot that incident and always regretted that she was not able to rescue the Bible----she lived by God’s Word.

Through the depression years, when life was so difficult for so many people, there were always other of mother’s family living with us. I must say that daddy was never one to complain, he was always kind to them and treated them with respect. As I grew older, it became more difficult for me. I longed for privacy for our family and the few times there would be just the six of us to sit down to a family dinner, I would feel like I had died and gone to Heaven.

Needless to say, mother became the second mother to her siblings when their mother died. She became their “guardian angel”, mentor, everything. They seemed to think there was nothing “Melder” couldn’t do and they were just about right! If they needed a new dress, she could sew it, if they needed quilts, she could do that too. Mother outlived two of her sisters, Sarah Ella and Georgia Mae.

Grand-dad Dougharty lived with us most of the time after he finally sold his home. He was still with mother and daddy after we children were married and in homes of our own. Shortly before he died, he went to mother’s sister Clara’s home. Mother’s health
was failing and she was unable to care for him. He died on February 23, 1946 and mother died December 26, 1946. 

Written by Ruby Ray Boyett Burkett



A LITTLE BOY’S BEAR HUNT

 

When I was about six years old, our family found it necessary to move in with my Grand-pa Dougharty, in the “Old Home Place” at Fawil, Texas. It was the place where my mother had lived when she was a girl, where she and her brothers and sisters had spent many happy days as they were growing up.

This time she was coming back as mistress of her father’s home, Grand-mother had died and there were two brothers and her young sister, Christene who needed a mother figure.  Along with her husband and four children there was a houseful. Gene was a teenager, I was about six, Earl was three or maybe four and Minnie Merle was a baby. At this time, the depression was in full swing and there were times when other family members came to live with us.

 

At the time of this story, there were no other children there so my little brother Earl had no playmates, human ones, that is. There were two dogs, Kaiser and Bob and they were Earl’s constant companions. On this day, the three were playing in the large front yard and Mother felt they were safe but she hadn’t heard them for some time so she sent me to check on them, He and the dogs were nowhere in sight and our search around the area was fruitless so the alarm went out that Earl and the dogs were missing. There were no phones and very few automobiles so in those days, there was a system in the country communities to shoot guns and blow cow-horns, signaling that something was wrong. Soon people were running in all directions searching for my little brother and the dogs. East of our house was Davis Creek and to the West was a branch so there was concern that he could drown. My poor Mother was so frightened and as young as I was, I knew that he was in danger so I stayed with my mother, trying to comfort and reassure her. I am sure Mother was praying for his safety and that he would soon be found as we walked the roads while the search was in progress.

 Mother’s brother-in-law, Bob Stark decided to search along the branch. I think they had found foot prints going that way. Soon Uncle Bob heard the dogs barking and was running toward them when he heard a little voice say, “Hey Bob, where you going”? When he turned around, Earl was standing there with a stick in his hand and had a wild look in his eyes. When Uncle Bob asked him what he was doing, his reply was, “I was hunting a bear”.

It was a happy time in the community of Fawil that afternoon when the news spread that Earl had been found and was not harmed during his adventure. He never went on another bear hunt! However he was always a daring young fellow and died, tragically, in an automobile accident at the age of 24 years, leaving his wife Ethel and little nineteen month old son, Earl Jackson Boyett Jr.

 

Written by Ruby Boyett Burkett

July 12, 2004