Bayou Lagrue: Life During the Big Depression

By T. Leon Doyle

With little more than an average monthly income of only two dollars and fifty cents per month and the plentiful bounty of the Arkansas bayou country, the family of Leon Doylea family of sixsurvived the ten years of the Great Depression. Though stricken with extreme poverty, Doyle enjoyed a happy, unencumbered life of southern superstitions, witches, boogiemen, and mysterious apparitions in the backwoods. He wasnt really aware of the shortcomings of his circumstances.

Completely happy with his life until World War II was just over the horizon and his family moved into town, completely destroying his comfort zone. The shortcomings were so immediate and overpowering that it took him years to overcome them.

However during his last years in high school he felt comfortable with the situation, accepting life as it was given. Basking in his maturity he got a job, and except room and board he supported himself. Finally, in gratitude for all the Mamma and Daddy did for him, he helped buy a house, a home of their own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Nov 29, 2012
• ISBN: 9781475963007

T. Leon Doyle

From the seclusion of the Arkansas bayou country, T. Leon Doyle’s travels were extensive, to locations far and wide, including wars, risky sites, and perilous journeys through eight decades. He is now retired and living alone on a Tennessee mountaintop.

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Copyright © 2012 T. Leon Doyle.

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ISBN: 978-1-4759-6299-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-6301-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-6300-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012922101

iUniverse rev. date: 05/12/2016

CONTENTS

PART ONE

The pre-teen years

CHAPTER ONE

In the Bayou LaGrue Bottoms Daddy knew that we could survive the big depression

CHAPTER TWO

Building a home place on ‘REHAB’ land and share-cropping with the government

CHAPTER THREE

Living in a place which only God and Mother Nature could have created

CHAPTER FOUR

Thanked the government for the help and moved back across the bayou

CHAPTER FIVE

A large house a big shinny barn and a wraparound orchard on the Grand Prairie

CHAPTER SIX

A small house closer to school, a dog named Buddy and the girls to play with

CHAPTER SEVEN

Move to the old Diamond place Mt Ed gets shot Move back to LaGrue Bottoms

CHAPTER EIGHT

In the deep woods of the bayou country with Humpback Jink and Crazy John

CHAPTER NINE

Familiar with ghost I the barn, glowing lights in the marshes and migrating ducks.

PART TWO

(Young Adulthood)

CHAPTER TEN

Leaving the backwoods for evermore and becoming accustomed to city life

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Rubber guns, Burger’s Bull Pasture and the lonesome solitude of junior high school

CHAPTER TWELVE

Back to Arkansas County and finally accepting city life as it is given

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

World 11 Big Brother serves and we survive a tornado

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

First job, a secret run to the bank, first girlfriend

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Finally moves out of the shadows and enjoys the last two years of high-school, Wrecks Big Brother’s car and the soldiers come home

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Turns 18, goes honky-tonking Mamma and Daddy have a home

IN MEMORY OF

Mamma and Daddy, as they are remembered by ‘us kids’, for the everlasting love and family ties throughout all the years.—Maw Maw and Paw Paw as they are remembered by all the family on the family-tree that came after them—Jack and Irene, as they are remembered by the rest of the family, neighbors and friends.

PART ONE

The pre-teen years

CHAPTER ONE

In the Bayou LaGrue Bottoms Daddy knew that we could survive the big depression

A troubling economy wasn’t necessarily unexpected, but a sharp, quick downward spiraling crash of the Stock Market caused a run on the banks, which were forced to close. As a result the state of Arkansas could not meet their commitments and daddy, a highway superintendent for the state, lost his job and the money he had in the bank soon evaporated. Then by the year of 1932, and with the nation in a big depression, he knew that the small amount of money needed to buy clothing and the few things that would make life more bearable could be earned by doing day work, planting the crops in the spring, harvesting them in the fall and that could be supplemented by accepting a dollar now and then for breaking a young bronc; and he took us, four young children and his wife, and moved to the old Doyle home place in the Arkansas bayou country, where his family had migrated to from Osage Indian country just after the turn of the century. With this attitude, and knowing that with God’s help and Mother Nature bounty, food would not be a problem. There was always an abundance of waterfowls, fish and wild animals in the bayou country, along with the vegetables and fruit from either our garden or growing wild in the fertile backwoods bayou bottoms; and with the basic few pieces of furniture needed to set up housekeeping we moved in.

Before hardly any time had passed we accepted our destiny and with the church a quarter of a mile one way, and big mamma and big papa’s a half of a mile the other, it wasn’t long before it seemed we had always lived in the country. As usual, during the evening meal we were planning the important happenings for tomorrow. Louis, ’spect that we had better cut maw some more cook wood, daddy said.

Yes sir! And we ought ta’ take the rifle. I saw a big deer back there yesterday, Louis replied. He and daddy spent a lot of their time out in the woods, hunting and fishing or cutting wood.

What about the garden? mamma asked.

I reckoned on doing that the day after tomorrow, daddy agreed to get the garden ready for mamma to plant. Sis almost six, and me a little over three, would help mamma plant the garden when it was ready. But Lynn was only one, and he wouldn’t be any help at all.

As the springtime of 1934 rolled around we had become accustomed too, and were happy with life as it was, which was somewhere between the life of the frontier mountain man and that of an Indian. The wild game from the backwoods, fish from the bayous, and a hog from over in the pin oak flats whenever we could catch one, was eaten fresh, sun dried, salted down or smokehouse cured, and stored for use later. From early spring until the first frost mamma, sis and I gathered foodstuff from the garden, the fertile land along the edge of the swamp, and banks of the bayou, then mamma put it up in jars.

Though it seemed as if our lives were ‘catch-as-catch-can’ most of the time, Sunday was always the Lord’s day. On the other days daddy knew where and when and always showed up. Then after walking levees during the final flooding of a rice field at Cooper’s Corner, he had money in his pocket. Then on Saturday he made a trip into town to buy the few store brought things that were needed and came home with salt and pepper, which mamma needed to make the home grown or swamp gathered food tasty. Beside the salt and pepper daddy also purchased sugar, flour and a tin of shortening, which was used only on special occasions for pies and cakes on holidays and birthdays. Then he brought himself some cigarette tobacco with roll your own papers and a pack of razor blades before hitch-hiking home.

Before winter many jars full of canned vegetables and fruit lined the pantry selves and crocks full of cornmeal, ground from homegrown corn, set along the wall below. Finally while filling the root cellar with the root crops and the smokehouse with our winter supply of smoked, sundried, or salt cured meat, daddy again did day work, harvesting the crops. We, mamma and us kids, did out part picking, pulling and gathering vegetables, corn and cotton and with the few dollars we earned we ordered out overalls, flannel shirts and lace boots, our yearly supply of clothing. With all the trees available wood for heating and cooking was no problem, just go out and cut a cord whenever it was needed. Of course mamma was the one that kept it all together, she could make a meal out of nothing, and kept the cloths clean and patched for extended ware.

As usual, with the arrival of Monday morning it was wash day again. After Sis and I pumped the water mamma’s helped us put the right amount in two, number three washtubs. Then sis put the bluing in the rinsing water, she liked to watch it turn blue. After mamma stuck the scrub board down in the other tub and began scrubbing the cloths with a big bar of home made yellow lie soap, Let me try, I said.

Picking me up and sitting my feet on the bench with the tubs, then while holding me in her arms, OK mamma replied, taking my smaller hands into her much larger ones and we began scrubbing together.

A couple of minutes were enough for me then sis and I went over to play under the double blanket that had been thrown over the cloth line and staked off like a tent. Lynn was a little fussy when mamma laid him down and she went inside to check on him. Sis and I knew something was wrong when she stormed out of the house calling for daddy, Jack! Lynn has a high fever, and he’s turned yellow! she called out.

Of course he came running from the barn meeting mamma at the backyard gate, It will be ok maw, he said, and they rushed back into the house with sis and me following. Then big brother showed up, he had been in the barn with daddy.

Daddy went across the road and came back with Mr. Henderson and his car while big brother ran all the way to big mamma’s house. By the time that big mamma and Aunt Letha arrived to keep us older kids, mamma and daddy had Lynn in the car, and they left to take him into town to the doctor.

With big mamma in charge, we decided we were free to do as we pleased, Come on lets go down to the creek, big brother said. It was a feeder creek to Bayou Big LaGrue, and there should be a few snakes and some turtles on the bank, or in the water.

Ok! I reckon a trip down to the creek is worth a whippin’ sis said.

I won’t get no whippin’, I said, with a mischievous smile on my face.

And why is that? big brother asked

Cause I’ll tell mamma that you made me do it, I replied.

What good do you thank that will do?

I don’t know! I replied shrugging my shoulders. But it seems to work.

Ok. I don’t reckon gettin’ ah’ whippin’ for two will hurt any more than gettin’ ah’ whippin’ for one, big brother agreed.

Can’t you make that for three? sis asked.

Well I don’t know. We’ll just have to see. If she’s not to mad! Maybe, big brother replied, and we headed for the creek.

Long as she don’t go and get that Jack Briggs after us, I said, remembering the black man who traveled around the neighborhood, often passing the house, and mamma used him as a boogieman to scare us kids.

There wasn’t much at the creek, one small snake sliding into hiding among the briers and a turtle ducking under the water, a bit disappointed, Let’s go over to the bear tree, I said.

In agreement, and on the outside of the pasture fence in the edge of the woods we came to a big bent over tree that daddy said was a bear tree. Remembering the story he had told us about the black preacher, down on his knees and looking up into the tree at a big black bear looking down at him, and I imagined I could him singing, "Oh Lord! Didn’t you delivery Daniel from ‘da lion’s den–-Jonah from ‘da belly of ‘da whale and ‘den–-da’ three Hebrew chillin’ from the fire furnace–-da’ good book done declared–-and now Lord if you can’t help me–-for goodness sakes don’t help dat’ bear. But I didn’t get to look up in the tree and imagine the big bear looking down at me, as I usually did because I stumbled and fell. Then jumping back upon my feet, I forgot all about the preacher and the bear and fell in line behind big brother and sis.

Climbing over the fence we spotted John Harrison’s billy-goats out in the middle of the pasture, and with two of them seemly paying us no mind I knew they were just waiting until we came closer. But one shied away and I knew that one, was the one that got his head caught in the fence when mamma was cashing him and, I beat the fire out of him with a 2x4, she told us, then warned us to stay away from them goats. But today, running across the pasture, we weren’t paying much attention to mamma’s warning, and figuring big mamma wouldn’t say much, Yaaaaaaaaaaaa! Heeeeeeeeeeeee! big brother screamed, jumping on top of the biggest one.

Of course the billy-goat knew we were in the field, he could hear us coming. But he didn’t expect big brother to jump on top of him. However that didn’t matter, he was ready for a fight and reared up on his hind legs, trying to dislodge big brother, but big brother had ridden these goats before and grabbing onto the goat’s horns he managed to hang on.

However, the billy-goat wasn’t through, and with his fore feet pounding down against the ground he bowed up his neck, lowered his head, and kicked both back feet up in the air, pitching big brother over his head and onto the ground. Then before big brother could get out of the way, the goat butted him in the behind. But big brother bounced to his feet and vaulted over the goat, coming down on the other side in front of me, running for my life with another goat chasing me. Sliding between big brother’s legs I got away, but the goat butted him in the stomach. Sis had found mamma’s 2x4 and was chasing the goat, and no sooner had he butted big brother, than sis went to work with her 2x4, chasing the goats away.

With a lot of playing time left, Let’s go swimming in hog-wallow, a large mud puddle in which the hogs could cover themselves with mud to keep the flies away and stay cool.

There was no doubt about us breaking the rules, You must stay out of Mr. Henderson’s hog-wallow, mamma told us. Some of those old boar hogs were big, with long tusks, and she didn’t know if they were dangerous or not. But today she wasn’t at home and after running across the road, climbing over the fence, and jumping into the knee-deep water, then sinking into the ankle-deep mud, doing the forbidden and having fun.

Wiggling and sliding across the mud on my belly, I’d like to be a hog for a little while everyday, I said.

Why? asked big brother while scooping mud up in his hands and dumping it over on top of me.

Well I could play in this mud any time I wanted.

What if they ’cided to butcher you while you’as a hog.

Well I sure don’t want be no hog at butchering time, I said.

Then we heard aunt Leatha calling, and knowing she was hunting us we needed to get to the creek and wash the mud off before she caught us. But she saw us crossing the road and, You’ll come on, and I will wash you off at the pump before your big mamma catches you, she called, turning us around. We were caught, but knew aunt Leatha would help us if she could.

We took turns pumping water while aunt Leatha rinsed us off and we went into the house wet, but with most of the mud washed away. Where in the world have you’ll been? big mamma asked. But it was apparent she wouldn’t push the issue and aunt Leatha kept our secret until the final evidence from the hog wallow was washed away in a # 3 wash tub, setting in the middle of the kitchen.

After a busy day we went to bed early and a while before sunrise we found Lynn standing up in his bed holding onto the side rail with a big smile on his face, he was alright and happy to see us. We would after all be able to go to the river and enjoy the much looked forward to camping trip that the Bethel Church community enjoyed each year after the crops were laid by.

All day the next day, while the wagons were being loaded and the food was being prepared, the home-places were being put on standby for the two weeks we would be gone, and all of us kids were allowed to imagine we were helping, that was half of the fun. Then early in the morning three wagonloads of people, food and tents, left for the all day trip to Mount Adams, where we would camp on the bank of the White River.

The horses pulling the wagons were tireless, but everybody on the wagons became restless somewhere along the way and walked along beside the wagons, at least part of the time, especially the kids. Finally as the sun was sinking in the west and on the banks of the river we set up the campsite as we had in all the years gone-by. First the tents, four platoon size army tents, with board sides four feet high, and a canvass top pulled tight from the eight foot high ridge row down over the board sides. One tent was for the kids, one for men, one for women, and one with a cooking stove, portable tables and folding chairs, to cook and eat in.

With the tents in a circle of sorts, looking something like a square, and the campfire, boxed in by big rocks from the river bank in the middle of the circle, lighting up the night and we roasted hot dogs and marshmallows over the leaping flames. Then with the excitement running high, it wasn’t easy to go to sleep, but sooner or later we all sort of passed out.

With the night over and the sun rising the women cooked breakfast on the stove, and after breakfast the people separated to do their various things. Big brother went off into the woods and with sis wading slowly in the shallows along the river bank picking up mussel shells and prying the open, looking for a pearl, and me playing in the sand at the water’s edge I wondered too far up-river, Leon! Come on back. You have gone far enough, mamma called.

Turning around and looking at her, Yessum, I agreed while slowly walking backwards. I had been told the older crowd, somewhere up river, didn’t want kids underfoot, and I didn’t understand that. The woods were big and the river was wide, so how in this world could I possible get under anybody’s foot. But I had more on my mind than that. I had heard Mamma and her younger sister arguing about a two piece bathing costume, and something about being a flapper, whatever that is, and Del’s boyfriend Clenty, and I decided I would see what that was all about.

However mamma wasn’t having any of that, and after setting Lynn down on the sand she hurried over, caught me by my arm and brought me back to where she had left Lynn and, Don’t go wandering off anymore, she said.

I wasn’t wonderin’! I was goin’ somewhere, I replied.

And where you going? she asked.

I wasn’t ready to tell her about the underfoot thing, and all the other words that I had heard in connection with that, words that made my bashful face turn red just to think about them. But I had to say something and, Well now I know that boys are boys, and girls are girls, and I reckoned a two piece swimming costume has somethin’ to do with that. And I was going to see if it was Aunt Dell, or Clenty, that’s got that thing on, I replied.

Mamma couldn’t help but laugh, and laughed so hard that she couldn’t talk for a minute; and I was glad that I had made her laugh, but I was still waiting for an answer, then, So you overheard Dell and my self talking? And yes boys are boys and girls are girls, and she stopped long enough for me to know that she was going to ask a question, then, What do you know about boys and girls? she asked.

I was ready, and with a wrinkle in my brow and stern look on my face, Kissin’! I announced as if I knew what I was talking about.

Of course mamma had to laugh again and, Kissing? What do you know about kissing? she asked.

Well Dorothy told me! She said that’s what boys and girls are supposed to do. But I still don’t see what a two piece swimming costume has got to do with kissin’, I replied.

Well it doesn’t. But the two pieced swimming costume is Dell’s, and I was afraid that she would get sunburned, mamma replied.

However mamma’s answer only brought on more questions, and I realized that we were in the same ballpark but playing a different game. She was trying to cover up, and I was trying to find out, But mamma, what does that dad-blamed thing look like? I asked.

There it was, and all she could do was answer then, It doesn’t cover enough of her body to suit me, she said.

Finally, one of those words that causes my face to turn red and though nobody said it, "NAKED," blasted across the airwaves as if someone had shouted it. I now knew it wasn’t underfoot they were really worried about, and feeling wise beyond my years, even though I had no idea what it was all about, I dropped down beside Lynn and was contented playing in the sand with him.

As the twilight of the evening grew darker, a bright moon lit up the river bank almost like day and a million stars twinkled in an overhead dome of deep blue, all of us younger children were hustled off to bed. In the cook tent a coal-oil lamp, with the wicks trimmed and burning bright, set in the middle of each eating tables with the older people played pitch-deck for at least half of the night. The more mature single people wandered out through the woods to do what ever it was they wanted to do. And in the dark shadows of the trees, the teenage kids played their usual hide-and-seek, and kissing and hugging games.

Sunday morning and with a full day planned, the men left camp to seine the river for fish and the women and the kids, on a wagon, headed to the river crossing to listen to a black preacher’s sunrise sermon and baptism. After the last sister was dipped under the water we loaded up and headed for St Charles to visit a civil war hospital that the boys in Civilian Conservation Corps had reclaimed as a museum. After a trip though the museum where we saw the bullet holes and blood stains left by the civil war, mamma and us kids walked down to the river. On the bank we saw her, sating on a log down close to the water, dressed in long black robe with a huge amount of wild hair covering her head and hanging down over shoulders, Mamma! She looks like a witch! sis exclaimed,

Close enough to recognize her mamma was surprised to see that she was a woman she remembered from DeWitt, Well sis! I guess she is sort of a witch. At least she can talk to people on the other side, and cause some strange things to happen, she replied.

While carefully listening sis became mystified and, Do you mean that she can talk to the people on the other side of the river? She must have ta’ talk awfully loud she remarked.

I wasn’t interested in who she talked too, but the word Witch, came through loud and clear, and pulling back like a balking mule, Mamma lets don’t go over there. She might know Jack Briggs, I begged.

Mamma wasn’t going to force me to go forward. In fact she was letting me pull her backwards and laughing at the same time. I doubt she knows Jack Briggs, and I don’t imagine she can be reached right now, first she quitted my fears. Turning to sis, No, she doesn’t have to talk loud. In fact she doesn’t have to talk at all. It’s a spiritual thing, and they say she often comes here to make contact with the ones that have been left behind in hopes of helping their lost souls find their way home, mamma said.

Looking up at mamma with a worried look on her face, Where did the lost souls come from? sis asked.

Mamma knew that her kids would not get over this for a while. First the hospital with the bullet holes and blood on the floor, and now a witch looking for lost souls, They say they are souls of the soldiers killed in the war, and aren’t quite ready for the spiritual world yet, she replied.

After carefully listening I had a question, Ghost? Is that what they are? I asked

Well yes! I guess the ones you can hear rattling chains, or rummaging around, or see flying through the air, could be called ghosts, mamma replied

Why are they still here? sis asked.

Mostly I reckon because of a violent death. Or being killed in a foreign place, and not being able to tell a loved one goodbye. Maybe it is a problem of being too good for the bad-man, and not believing enough in God. Either way they won’t bother you, and let’s hope the woman is able to delivery them all safely into the hands of God. mamma said

Oh I do! I do! sis exclaimed, and it was time to climb upon the wagon for their trip back to the campsite.

The trip back was a quite one, we were all thinking about what we had seen, and some were praying for the lost souls, or at least for the soldiers that had lost them -- maybe that will help get them all to a final resting place.

Mamma was right about her children, especially me, and in the middle of the night while I was sleeping my overactive mind delivered the image of a one of those lost souls belonging to a rebel soldier, who had lost his life in the civil war. The image came in and sat on the side of my pallet, and while he sat looking down at me with tears in his eyes, Hello, I said, Why are you crying?

War is a terrible thing, and I am lost and I want to go home and see my mamma and daddy, the Soldier said.

If you are a lost soul, I think your mamma and daddy are waiting for you up in Heaven with God, I replied, realizing what I was saying was beyond my years. But I was convinced that the witch had somehow caused me to do it.

Up early the next morning and looking out across the water into the thick early morning fog, I would swear that I could see shadowy figures moving across the water. Then I believed with all of my heart, soul and body I could see the witch out there walking on the water, showing the soldier his way home. But when mamma walked up and laid her hand on my shoulder the vision of the witch and the soldier disappeared. Mamma did you see her? I asked.

It was abundantly clear I had seen something that had impressed me a lot, and lowering herself down onto her knees, then looking on a level into my eyes, See who? she asked.

That Witch, and she was leading a soldier across the water, and I reckon they were looking for his lost soul, I exclaimed, with joy sounding in my voice and my happy laughter bouncing out across the water.

There was no question about it, I knew that mamma believed in God, and with all that she held dear she did. But when it came to believing in the supernatural, I didn’t know how far she was willing to let her good sense lead her into this world of the unknown that my mind often wondered off into. But had my imagination and the shadows in the swirling fog make me see things that weren’t there, or had I actually been allowed the insight to see God performing the miracle of saving a soul. With these unanswered questions bothering my mind I moved a little closer, put my hands upon her shoulders, and looking straight into her eyes, He came to see me last night, I said.

Who came to see you? she asked.

The soldier, I replied.

Do you mean you dreamed about him? she questioned.

Hunching my shoulder in an ‘I don’t know’ gesture, He was satin’ on the side of my pallet, I answered.

What did he say?

"He said, ‘this is a terrible war, and I am lost, and I want to go home and see my mamma and daddy,’ I repeated the exact words as I remembered them.

There was no question about it, I was the most curious one of her kids and, I don’t know Leon! Do you imagine you had a dream which was influenced by what you saw yesterday, and maybe what you saw out there on the water was what you wanted to see, she said, attempting to help me understand.

But instead of accepting it for what it was, I dived off in another direction, Maybe she was taking him to the Mary Woods, I said, and then realized what I had said didn’t fit into our conversation and, You know! Preacher Farmer said that the Mary Woods goes up and down the river gathering up souls, I explained.

Mamma had to laugh, she couldn’t help herself, but I didn’t mind; she wasn’t laughing at me, but she quite often laughed at the things I said. Yes Leon I remember that sermon, remember it very well. But I don’t believe brother Farmer said it exactly like you must have thought he did. I believe he used the logging towboat ‘The Mary Woods’, and the way it picks up logs all along the White River and pushed them up to the sawmill as an example of how God gathers in his souls on the river of life, she explained.

Of course I knew what mamma was telling me, But mamma! Don’t ’cha see what a sight that would make? The Good Lord up behind that big old steering wheel, driving that boat, gathering up them souls up and down the river, I implored with anxious look on my face.

Reaching out she gathered me into her loving arms and, "Yes son it would be quite a sight. But I guess we will have to