A Legacy to Remember: "Recollections of a Common Man"

By Duard V. Gillum

A Legacy to Remember: “Recollections of a Common Man” is the story of a man who rose above all odds stacked against him. The Great Depression, divorced parents, living in poverty, World War II, the death of a child, divorce etc.—commonly known occurrences many individuals in American History have faced. Many people wou

• Language: English
• Publisher: ABC's Ministries
• Release date: Sep 19, 2018
• ISBN: 9780997956566

Duard V. Gillum

A Legacy to Remember: "Recollections of a Common Man" is the story of a man who rose above all odds stacked against him. The Great Depression, divorced parents, living in poverty, World War II, the death of a child, divorce etc.-commonly known occurrences many individuals in American History have faced. Many people would have been bitter having lived through such tragedies. But not Duard Vinson Gillum! He not only survived but he thrived through his faith in God to become a wonderful "family man" with a successful career in the aeronautics industry, even working on the Apollo Moon Landing Project and the Space Shuttle Project. Mr. Gillum passed away in 2011.

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Preface

When I wrote my first book The ABC’s of Life for Children and Adults: Short Stories, Essays, and Poems Promoting Christian Concepts (Xulon Press, 2003), little did I realize that we already had an author in the family, my father’s first cousin Duard Vinson Gillum, better known to me as Tiny. Whenever Tiny was visiting us in Kentucky in 2003 he read my first book pre-publication. At that time he told me that he too had written a book about his life story. Immediately I asked him for a copy. I told him if he gave me a copy of his book, I would send him a copy of mine once published. He said, Yes, we can do that. Whenever Tiny formally published his autobiography in 2011 shortly before his death, he was true to his word and mailed me a copy of his book.

Before I read Tiny’s autobiography, Recollections of a Common Man (Xlibris, 2011) I knew little about my father’s roots. Knowing how close Tiny and Dad were as children, well, actually their entire lives, I couldn’t wait to learn more about my roots. One thought I had after reading Tiny’s tribute about my great grandmother Mam-Maw Keaton (aka, Mam-Maw Smith) was that I’m glad he had such positive feelings for her; because honestly, I would not have liked her, or at least, I wouldn’t have appreciated her use of tobacco. Don’t think I wouldn’t have told her either!!!

After reading Recollections of a Common Man my love and respect for Tiny, who shared my love of the Lord, grew by leaps and bounds. He was so humble. He also enjoyed life in spite of having experienced so much tragedy in his life—the Great Depression, living in poverty, World War II and the death of a child, which triggered a divorce. Many people would have been bitter having lived through all that; but, not Tiny. He was always very kind to everyone. Everyone loved him.

Knowing how hard of a time I was having promoting my own book and getting book sales, I wanted to help Tiny in promoting his book. I started loaning my copy of Recollections of a Common Man (Xlibris, 2011) to personal friends whom I thought might like the book. The most common response was, I liked the book; but, I was distracted by all the typos and grammatical errors.

With the responses from my friends about Tiny’s book, I thought, I could edit the book for him. However, not until now has God cleared my scheduled and led me to begin work on this new book project. Some may wonder why I am doing this now that a few years back Tiny moved on to receive his Heavenly reward.

First, I am doing this to honor Tiny and knowing how much he wanted his descendants to benefit from reading his life story. Additionally, Tiny had a desire for one or more of his descendants to write the last chapter of his book. In Recollections of a Common Man (Xlibris, 2011), he wrote in the book’s conclusion,

This book, in addition to being a chronicle of my life and times, is left to those who will succeed me, whether they be family or friends, or both. To them, I entrust the final chapter, hoping that someday, someone will take what is thus far advanced and carry it forward . . . that he, she, or they will chronicle events subsequent to these and of their lives and times . . . and in so doing, continue this as a book of Family Heritage. (p. 211)

When chatting with a mutual cousin of Tiny’s and mine a few days ago, she did not even know he had written a book. That was one of the other factors that gave me the incentive to start this new book project, which I have entitled, A Legacy to Remember: Recollections of a Common Man, to bring more visibility to Tiny’s story and his autobiography.

Through sharing Tiny’s life story I hope not only descendants of Tiny’s; but my own descendants will benefit from the lessons shared in the book. I also believe that others in the general public will find value in reading about the life story and testimony of Tiny.

Pamela K. Orgeron

August 1, 2018

CHAPTER 1

The Depression: Born into Poverty

In the 1920’s, Eastern Kentucky’s Floyd County residents depended mainly on coal mining as their principal source of employment. If a man was not a coal miner, he was a farmer. More often he was forced to be both just to make ends meet. Rearing a family on nothing more than a miner’s pay was difficult. Many small communities were built by the mine owners to provide their workers the essentials necessary for rearing a family. Each community had doctors and hospitals to serve the local needs. In addition to the medical services and facilities, housing, schools, churches, and stores were included in the town layout. One such town was Wayland, Kentucky, a small community nestled along the banks of Right Beaver Creek.

July 28, 1925 the editor of this book’s cousin Tiny was born in Wayland, Kentucky to Andrew Jackson and Ida May Gillum. He joined his two older brothers Clifford Frank, then 3.5 years old, and Buford Clayton (nickname: Bootie), then 22 months of age. Christened Duard Vinson, Tiny never knew how his mother came up with his name. Tiny’s paternal grandparents, Henry Gilliam and Betsy Jane Lemaster Gilliam were not living when he was born. However, he was blessed to know his maternal grandparents, Augustus Smith and Mary Melissa Keaton Smith.

Although being named Duard Vinson was bad enough, there was more to come! Cliff had a playmate named Claude. Cliff’s youngest brother was merely a tiny Claude to him, Thus, Cliff gave Tiny his first nickname.

THE GILLUM THREE

Left to right

Buford Clayton, Duard Vinson, Clifford Frank in their innocent stages

After moving to California as an adult, Tiny acquired a new nickname, Gill. To his family and friends in California, he was known as Gill, but to some of his relatives and friends in the East who grew up with him, he still carries the nickname Tiny. On a side note, Tiny’s cousin, Pam Orgeron, the editor of A Legacy to Remember, remembers when Tiny was visiting her family and he told her father that he was then using the nickname Gill. When Pam’s father told Tiny, I have known you so long as ‘Tiny’, I don’t know whether I can remember to do that.

That’s okay. I understand, Tiny replied. He was always understanding and flexible like that.

Located across the swinging foot bridge spanning Beaver Creek was a somewhat smaller community named Glo. Tiny’s parents and brothers lived in Glo before his birth. Tiny’s father, Mr. Gilliam, first worked in the mines as an ordinary miner, but as work became more plentiful, he hired a crew on his own, and thereafter subcontracted his services to the mine owners. This provided a substantially larger income, and enabled the Gilliam family to move to Wayland, and larger living quarters.

Coal mining is a very dangerous occupation, and major accidents were not uncommon. Mr. Gilliam was involved in at least two cave-ins that resulted in broken bones. Miners were paid twice a month, thus each payday was known as a half. Rarely, if ever, did money from one half last to the next. That, in turn, gave rise to the company store where all essentials were purchased. The company store’s policy allowed miners advances on the next forthcoming half. Such advances were made in the form of scrip which was negotiable only at the company store, but allowed miners and their families to purchase food…pay the rent…and otherwise keep their heads above water until the next half.

All advances were deducted immediately from the next paycheck, and no long term credit was allowed. This left families with little, if any, cash from one half to the next, resulting in continuing advances. The line, I owe my soul to the company store! from the song Sixteen Tons, is a direct reference to the miners’ reliance on the company store. Many miners, including Mr. Gilliam, would use any money they had remaining from their paychecks to buy moonshine whiskey and to participate in the regular Saturday night poker games.

Mr. Gilliam would play poker all night, arriving home on Sunday morning in time to bathe, shave, don his blue serge suit, grab his cap, and head out for church. He didn’t miss too many church services, as he was the leader of the church choir. On one particular Sunday, Tiny’s mother hid all her husband’s caps before he came home from the poker game. Thus, when he was ready to leave for church, he had no cap to wear. Because Mr. Gilliam would not leave the house without a cap, Tiny’s mother thought by hiding the caps, she would prevent her husband from going to church slightly tipsy. Undaunted, Mr. Gilliam picked up his miner’s helmet with the carbide lantern firmly attached. He scurried off to church. Entering the church, he saw his wife’s sister, Flaura, sitting in one of the pews. He quickly deposited his helmet in her lap, saying here, take care of this, and with equal assurance took his position in the choir.

When Tiny was 6 weeks old he contracted measles, and very rapidly developed pneumonia, which placed his life in extreme jeopardy! He was told the country doctor informed his parents that his chances for survival were very slim…but, the doctor added, there was a new drug he could try with their permission. As the story has been told, this new drug (according to the doctor) would either cure him, or put him out of his misery. Mrs. Gilliam was reluctant, but Mr. Gilliam issued the approval. The drug was administered. Tiny never knew what drug was given to him; but suspected the drug might have been sulfa. There is no doubt Mr. Gilliam’s decision was critical to saving Tiny’s life.

Due to Mr. Gilliam’s penchant for drinking and gambling, several temporary splits occurred in the Gilliam marriage. Tiny vaguely remembered living a somewhat nomadic life from time to time. Mrs. Gilliam, with the three boys in tow, would visit her mother, Mam-Maw Smith in Ashland (then a town of about 20,000, nine miles west of the West Virginia state line). Mrs. Gilliam and the boys would remain in Ashland for a while. Then they’d return to Wayland for reconciliation with Mr. Gilliam. Tiny didn’t know how often that scenario occurred but, when he was just past 3 years old, the split became permanent. Once more, Mrs. Gilliam and the boys headed to Ashland.

Tiny did not see much of his father after his mother moved the boys to Ashland. His father would drop by now and then, but his visits were always short, varying from 1 to 3 days, and then he would leave again. Tiny thought his father spent most of his time in southern Ohio, where he had relatives, and jobs were more plentiful. One thing Tiny remembered about his father was his burning desire for constant singing, whistling, and humming! Mr. Gilliam had a natural talent for music that never diminished. As Tiny recalled, his father once taught the subject in a rural school in Eastern Kentucky. Reportedly, Mr. Gilliam also wrote one of the hymns sung at his own funeral, No tears in Heaven.

Another thing that mind boggled Tiny about his father was the numerous birdshot pellets visible below the skin of his arms, neck, and chest. Apparently, before Mr. Gilliam met Mrs. Gilliam, he made a trip on horseback to see a lady he had been courting. Upon arrival at her house, and before he could dismount, another suitor appeared on the front porch with a shotgun. Angered, Tiny imagined, to find his long ride had resulted in that, Mr. Gilliam drew the pistol he always carried. His horse reared just as he fired, causing him to miss his target, and his competitor blew him out of the saddle!

Mr. Gilliam was taken to West Liberty, Kentucky where a doctor proclaimed his wounds to be fatal, and never bothered to remove the birdshot. In time, the pellets migrated to the skin surface but since there was no pain involved, Mr. Gilliam did not consider having them removed. Tiny was fascinated being able to move those pellets around under his father’s skin with his own fingers!

Tiny recalled one memorable visit he and his brothers had with their father in the early summer of 1930 (the very pit of the depression). Mr. Gilliam took the boys to visit their uncle, his brother Ed, who lived near West Liberty. That trip also included a very short visit with another of Mr. Gilliam’s brothers, Frank, and a prolonged stay at the home of a friend in Glo. The total time the boys were with their father was almost a year. Tiny observed his 5th birthday and his father turned 50 years old during that time. Tiny remembered crying on Mr. Gilliam’s birthday because he thought his father was getting so old.

During the visit with Uncle Ed, Tiny suffered a broken arm. This occurred when Tiny was carrying a child, who was a little older than him, on his back. Plaster of Paris casts for broken bones had not yet been perfected at that time. Therefore, the doctor used wooden splints to immobilize Tiny’s arm. Tiny reported the procedure was very successful, as he never suffered any ill effects from the break in his later years.

Tiny did not know whether the extended trip with his father was taken with his mother’s consent; but, Tiny was sure that mattered not to his father one way or the other. Neither did Tiny remember their mode of travel but, since they had no car and public transportation did not exist, he was sure they must have walked a lot. Uncle Ed had three or four boys, so Tiny and his brothers never lacked companionship during the day while the adults were hoeing corn, or clearing new ground for crops to be planted later.

One day while the adults were in the cornfield (or at least that’s where Tiny and the other boys thought they were), the boys sneaked off to the watermelon patch, eagerly anticipating some very tasty…but forbidden…fruit. The boys knew the watermelon patch was off limits and if they were caught there, they knew they’d very likely receive a sound thrashing. That knowledge, however, did not deter the boys. They soon selected a nice ripe melon, and just as quickly, were spitting seeds. Unknown to the boys, however, the men were not in the cornfield. Instead, they were clearing higher ground and were able to see their every move.

When the hard day’s work was done, the tired toilers returned to the house and washed up for supper. After everyone had gathered around the table, someone asked the boys what they had done all day. One of Tiny’s cousins told the adults they had just played games. Nothing more was said for some time. The boys thought they had pulled off stealing the watermelon. Suddenly moments later Tiny’s father looked at him and said, I bet you really did enjoy that nice watermelon, Tiny.

Caught by surprise, Tiny blurted out, God, it sure was good.

After their visit with Uncle Ed and his family, Mr. Gilliam and the boys continued on to Glo, where they spent some time with Mr. Gilliam’s friend. Tiny thought he remembered the man’s name was Mister Pack, who had a son about Cliff’s age. Soon after Mr. Gilliam and his sons arrived in Glo, the Gilliam boys accompanied with the Pack boy hiked into the woods in search of beech nuts (a small triangular shaped nut that is delicious and abundant in that area). Beech nuts are especially good when roasted, so the boys built a fire and proceeded to gather nuts for a feast. Needless to say, with a lot of dried leaves on the ground, the boys were really looking for a peck of trouble. Before long the fire got out of control. Knowing they could not stop the fire from spreading, the boys scurried down the hillside to safer ground. The only firefighters around were the volunteer bucket brigade. Tiny remembered the volunteer firemen were a very efficient bunch extinguishing the fire in a short time; but, not before the fire consumed a barn and fence of a local farmer. That was the only time Tiny remembered his father whipping him.

Tiny, his brothers, and their father stayed at the Pack place for some time. When the new school year started, Mr. Gilliam enrolled the boys in a one-room country school. The boys carried their lunch (called dinner in the country) in a coal miner’s aluminum dinner bucket, a half round contraption, which in no way resembled the lunch pails of today. The bucket was about a foot tall with a semi-circular carrying strap riveted to each side. A very tight fitting lid covered the bucket to ensure the freshness of the contents. Tiny vividly recalled that their buckets contained buttermilk and crumbled cornbread, which was eaten with a spoon. Tiny felt there was no educational benefit to him and his brothers going to school. However, Tiny supposed his father had peace of mind knowing that as long as the boys were in school, they would not be involved in too much mischief. Since the boys did not want any part of school, especially the walking part, they skipped a lot of days.

On one occasion the boys pressed their luck a little too far, which proved to be their downfall. They had already spent the first four days of the week at their favorite spot beneath a railroad trestle. They did not complete the 5th day there, as a local townsman walking along the railroad tracks spotted them. Naturally, the townsman told Mr. Gilliam, which brought the Gilliam boys’ shenanigans to a screeching halt for the remainder of the school year. The Gilliam family remained at the Pack farm until sometime in the late spring of 1931, when Mr. Gilliam got itchy feet again or, perhaps, the boys wore out their welcome. They then began the journey back to Ashland, but by a different route than what they had come.

Mr. Gilliam wanted to visit another fellow he knew on the way to Ashland. Between leaving Glo and arriving at his friend’s house, they spent the night in a cornfield. The weather was very pleasant and with Tiny barefooted, somehow he stuck a piece of wire in his big toe. His father removed the wire, wiped away his tears with his bandana, and assured Tiny everything would be just fine. That calmed Tiny’s fears, allowing him to fall asleep soon.

The next morning Mr. Gilliam built a fire and fixed breakfast from supplies they carried on the trip. After breakfast, Mr. Gilliam rolled each of the boys and himself a cigarette from his Prince Albert tin. Soon afterward they were on their way again.

Since planting time for some crops was still in season when the family arrived at the house of Mr. Gilliam’s friend, Mr. Gilliam volunteered his and the boys’ services. His friend had a peach orchard that, according to Cliff, produced great tasting peaches, which they were allowed to eat as much as they wanted; provided they planted the seed from each peach they ate. Within a few days, they were off to Ashland once more with only one more detour along the way. They stopped to see a relative living on Blaine Creek near Louisa, Kentucky in a small village about 35 miles from home. Neither Tiny nor Cliff remembered any happenings of importance at Blaine Creek. Because Tiny, his brothers, and their father were not at the relative’s house very long before leaving again, Tiny believed the visit was one of those drop by and say hello kind of things. When they finally arrived in Ashland, Mr. Gilliam deposited the boys with their Mam-Maw Smith, disappearing for another 3 or 4 years.

By the time the boys arrived at their grandmother’s, America was really suffering from the effects of the depression. Although Tiny was very young, he vividly recalled many of the hardships endured by his family, as well as many other families around them. Jobs were practically non-existent everywhere, especially in Ashland. Many families became totally dependent on what is known today as welfare. In those days welfare was called relief, which was administered by the American Red Cross. No one had money. There was no money for food or rent. Evictions commonly occurred. Desperate for some way to survive, Tiny’s entire family (consisting of 11 in all) joined forces and occupied a three-room shack bordering the city dump. There, they paid no rent. In fact, they didn’t even have the owner’s permission to live there. They simply assumed squatter’s rights and took the place over!

The Family Matriarch Mam-Maw Smith

Their new home had no running water or electricity. What were available for lighting were natural gas fixtures with mantles all over the place. They also used gas for cooking, at least for a while. Having no money with which to pay the gas bill, the company soon turned the gas off. Tiny’s family turned the gas back on again. The gas company came back and removed the meter. Not to be outdone, Tiny’s mother removed the plugs the company had installed and reconnected the gas