BON WIER’S BIG DAY
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!
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
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
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
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.
IMELDA THE GUARDIAN ANGEL
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