In Those Days Book 4 Where Home Is

By Dusty Kohl

"Where Home Is" comprises the fourth book in this series, In Those Days.

Nellie is still wishing to go back home to Whitehouse, Texas. In this book, they move to Oklahoma City just prior to 1920. She has a growing family to feed, a husband who doesn’t want to work, and relatives depending on her for help. Once again, she finds help from her friends as she makes a new home for her children and secures income to support them. For over fourteen years, Nellie has wanted to go home. She finally gets her desire, though only for a short visit. “Back home” has many disconcerting revelations for her.

She lived through many an era, from horse and buggy to men walking on the moon. Nellie knew more than any history book could ever tell, from gunfights, train robberies, outlaw bands, Women Suffrage, and Prohibition to serial killers, government scandals, street gangs, Civil Rights, and the Hippie drug culture. She pauses from telling a story to acknowledge how things changed over the years. People, customs, behavior, science, and even religion, she explained how different these were in those days.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dusty Kohl
• Release date: Oct 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310106187

Dusty Kohl

Dusty Kohl taught as a classroom teacher and reading specialist for nearly two decades. He began writing poems and short stories during his own elementary school days. Dusty is one in a long line of storytellers of oral traditions from family history. When he isn’t remodeling, landscaping or kicking back with his dogs, he’s out people watching and interacting. His goal is to keep his storyline characters realistic while his plots take twists, turns, and surprises.

Book preview

In Those Days

Book 4

Where Home Is

Fourth in the series

Copyright 2015 Dusty Kohl

Published by Dusty Kohl at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Other books in this series

Introduction from Dusty Kohl

Where Home Is

Chapter 1 The City

Chapter 2 You Cain’t Go Home Again

Chapter 3 He Is My Brother

Chapter 4 The Store

Epilogue

About the Author

Connect with Dusty Kohl

Acknowledgements

Books from the series In Those Days

Novels from the series Swim Coach

Other books from Dusty Kohl

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Other books in this series by Dusty Kohl include:

This is the fourth in the series of books, In Those Days

In Those Days Book 1 The Ties That Bind

In Those Days Book 2 On the Run

In Those Days Book 3 Hiding from the Great World War

More books in this series will be published soon. More detailed information on each book is available at your favorite ebook retailer and at the end of this book.

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Introduction from Dusty Kohl

Where Home Is comprises the fourth book in this series, In Those Days. I strongly urge that this series be read in numerical order.

Nellie loved her parents, grandparents, brothers and sisters. When they fled crop failure back home to find a temporary living in Oklahoma, all of them believed they could pull through the worst of circumstances. Instead, they barely scraped by with enough to eat. After she was coerced into running off to marry Britt, she learned they would not return to her family. She made fast friends along the way, birthed three children, and set up house in Enid, Oklahoma. When her father finally caught up with them, he did not kill Britt as feared. Instead, he confirmed for her that she had to live with her decision to marry.

She and her daughters were forced to go along when Britt hid in the wilderness for nearly three years to avoid World War I. Grit. I’d have to say that’s when my grandmother developed grit. And there is no grit like that of a Texas woman fighting for the survival of her young children in dangerous circumstances.

Nellie is still wishing to go back home to Whitehouse, Texas. In this book, they move to Oklahoma City just prior to 1920. She has a growing family to feed, a husband who doesn’t want to work, and relatives depending on her for help. Once again, she finds help from her friends as she makes a new home for her children and secures income to support them. For over fourteen years, Nellie has wanted to go home. She finally gets her desire, though only for a short visit. Back home has many disconcerting revelations for her.

These books are based on the stories my grandmother told me repeatedly through the years. It is not my intention to give an accurate day to day biography of her life. A few of the stories worked well together; accordingly I combined them for the sake of text. I changed all of the names for the privacy of the descendants. Some of the characters became amalgamated among those stories. A few people I simply omitted as they did not play a significant role in her life. So any resemblance to people either living or dead should be taken as purely coincidental and not as fact.

Nellie lived through many an era, from horse and buggy to men walking on the moon. Grandma knew more than any history book could ever tell, from gunfights, train robberies, outlaw bands, Women Suffrage, and Prohibition to serial killers, government scandals, street gangs, Civil Rights, and the Hippie drug culture. She would pause from telling a story to acknowledge how things changed over the years. People, customs, behavior, science, and even religion, she explained how different these were in those days.

I can never go back to those wonderful years I spent with my grandmother. So many of her stories I’d love to hear her tell again. Here I am trying to write those stories so other people can learn about her life. Perhaps they can even learn a few lessons about life from her as I did. By the time you finish reading these books, you may come to know What’s it all about? from the life she lived in those days.

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Chapter 1 The City

Susan and Jack kept their promise to take us home to Enid. Britt didn’t mind us staying with them for awhile. But he didn’t want to go back to work at the trains there. He was of no help to Jack on their ranch. Certain. Before I had reason and chance to object, the Conestoga was loaded and we headed back down the Chisholm Trail to Oklahoma City. The City, people called it by that time.

Oil made Oklahoma, I’ve heard it said. And in those days seemed oil was nearly everywhere, eventually even in The City. Name another state capitol with a working oil well on its grounds. That doesn’t happen anywhere but Oklahoma. Oil. Big business ’twas at that and put many men to work. Many that is, except Britt.

Watch the road, Nellie, he said. You g..gotta find us ’at bag o’ g..gold.

Of course at the end of the day with no bag of gold found, he chided me. You mustn’t be l..livin’ right or you’d found us ’at bag o’ g..gold.

Well, his excuse for moving us to The City was with war’s end, jobs would be a plenty. From what I recalled of the week we spent there on the way to Enid, part-time, temporary jobs were the best he could do. I had doubts he’d do much better anywhere, particularly after years of doing nothing in the wilderness. How likely was he to go back to a regular job? Idle hands lose momentum.

We made camp with several other families north of Oklahoma City. Each morning, Britt saddled Ebony, headed into town to be gone all day and came back with no prospect of a job. He returned empty handed just as surely as his hunting rides had done for us when ’twas up to me to put meat on our campfire. Other men about us were finding jobs, renting houses and getting their war-wearied families into solid homes. We were one of two families left when it hit me we would soon run out of food!

Remember I learned in Enid, somebody had to be the brains of our outfit. Since most likely wasn’t gonna be my better or worse husband, I resorted to threats again. Having learned Britt could heave-to for awhile until I was stuck like he did that second winter out in the middle of nowhere, I needed a new strategy.

At supper that evening, I fixed as little food as I could get by with.

Wut’s with supper, t..night, Nellie? Ain’t hardly enough to fill a man’s mouth.

Well, Britt, you ain’t got a job. I don’t see no manna fallin’ from the sky. Ain’t nobody givin’ us handouts. I’m thinkin’ we might ought a go on down Texas way and find work near our kin.

Britt was mad! Now, hold on, th..there. I been lookin’ every day for work. Just ain’t found none yet.

Lookin’ don’t put food on the plates. Get mad if you want. You can get happy in the same clothes you get mad in. But I’ve had it! You couldn’t let us stay someplace where we knew nobody. Now we’re for sure in a fix. Trains, Britt. They got ’em here within walking distance. Tell you true, get a job by week’s end or leave Ebony with me. When you get back on Friday with no job, the girls and me are headin’ back home!

The fight was on!

Britt started to swear and caught himself. You cain’t l..leave me! I’m your husband!

You’re also papa to two girls who gotta eat an’ deserve a decent roof over their heads! CAIN’T, Britt? I been through hell out in the wilderness an’ kept us afloat with the help of the Good Lord. Sure weren’t no thanks to YOU. Ain’t no reason t’ be this close t’ The City you claimed would be full of jobs if you ain’t gonna work! I mean it, Britt! The girls an’ me are leavin’ to go back home this Friday if you ain’t got a job. Find one after we leave, then send for us. I ain’t gonna live like this no more.

But Ebony is MY horse. He protested. You cain’t take HER.

Britt, don’t push me no further. I mean what I said. No job? The girls an’ me are gone.

Well, he dillydallied around, riding into The City and coming back empty handed, except he messed up Thursday evening and came back to camp DRUNK! By dawn, I had the wagon loaded, hitched Ebony to it and made it to Pauls Valley by nightfall. I left Britt to sleep it off next to the campfire on a quilt where he passed out. HA!

See, the thing is, iffin’ you’re gonna hand out an ultimatum to somebody who slid past one before, you’d better stick to it or you may as well saved your breath.

The land lay different than what I recalled all those years ago. I couldn’t go to Cement and begin to find the Brush Harbor. Wasn’t even sure which road out of town to take to get there. For all I knew, those people weren’t there no more. Asking Mary for help, well, Shawnee was out of the way, too. I rested Ebony at a stream and fed Nancy Margaret and Lela Mae biscuits and honey.

The next morning we headed on south toward Dallas. I figured if I made Denton, I could find my way to Tyler and then to Whitehouse. My girls sat either side of me, taking turns helping Mamma hold the reigns. Ebony was a steady horse. No jolting about as long as we had the road to ourselves. She didn’t shy from horses come meeting our way, and I had to take a firm pull to keep her from running them off the road! We camped that night ’tween Ardmore and Denton. Twas Sunday night.

Where’s Papa? Nancy Margaret asked. Inevitable.

Well, maybe Papa’s gonna find a job and then he’ll send for us, I said, sounding as reassuring as I could. We’d made good time on the road. Better than I expected. I bedded my daughters down in the wagon, lit the lantern for warmth, and dozed off to sleep between them. Twas a fitful sleep. What was I doing? I kept waking up wondering what had I done. What would I tell Papa and Mamma? What did I expect would happen when I got "back home. Would they even be there?

I woke up to Michael singing, Mary! Mary! It’s a grand ol’ name!

No Irishman ever sang quietly. Told you that.

I peeked out the back end of the wagon and there he sat by what was left of the supper coals. He stopped mid-note when he saw me looking at him.

He smiled, Missuz Stovall ain’t it, now?

Nape aint’ here. Hope to the Good Lord not t’ see that ol’ biddy ever ’gain!