Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Introduction

Chapter 1:     1910–1922

Chapter 2:     1923–1927

Chapter 3:     1927–1932

Chapter 4:     1932–1944

Chapter 5:     1944–1949

Chapter 6:     1949–1975

Chapter 7:     1975–2010

Afterword

Appendix 1:     Pigeon Drop

Appendix 2:     Delbert Demosthenes

Appendix 3:     Sylvia Emma

Appendix 4:     Thomas Glenmore

Appendix 5:     Homer Ray

Appendix 6:     Dorothy Marie

Appendix 7:     Robb Family

Dedication

For LaVerne

A young LaVerne

Acknowledgements

First I want to thank Chelsea Robb for the valuable critiques and advice she has given me in writing my books.

I’d like to thank Richard Robb for his efforts in getting my books published.

I’d also like to thank Mercedes Robb for transporting me around and helping me with the many copies necessary to write and finish a book.

And I’d like to thank Jane Norton for her support and being a reader during the process.

Also, I’d like to thank any others who have contributed materials or helped in other ways for this book to come to fruition.

Sincerely,

Tom Robb

It all starts here

Glen leaning on car

Introduction

1900——In our country, at the beginning of the 20th century, there was a feeling of euphoria and satisfaction. America was the envy of the world. William McKinley was the new president, defeating famed orator William Jennings Bryan, for a second term. The stock market was up, up, up. Then on September 8, 1900, the country’s deadliest hurricane ever hit the popular seaside town of Galveston, Texas, population 40,000. Six to eight thousand died. Five thousand injured. Galveston was the Pirate Kingdom of Jean Lafitte.

1901——September 6, 1901, President McKinley was assassinated. Shot twice in the abdomen by anarchist Leon Czolgose. The president died of gangrene. Vice-President Theodore Roosevelt became president. October 24, 1901, Edna Edson Taylor became the first person to go over Niagara Falls in a barrel; just shock and minor bruises.

1902——April 29, 1902, the Senate voted to extend the Chinese Exclusion Act for the second time, barring Chinese immigrants to the U. S,, to protect American workers from cheap labor. May 8, 1902, Mount Pele (Bald Mountain) on the Caribbean island of Martinique, erupted. The city of Saint-Pierre, population 30,000, was wiped out, except for two survivors – Leon Compere-Leandre, a young shoemaker; and Louis-Auguste Cyparis, a felon, who was in a dungeon. Cyparis was trapped underground for four days. He later toured with the Barnum & Bailey Circus. The eruption caused President Teddy Roosevelt to choose Panama as the location for a canal.

1903——December 10, 1903, three French people were awarded the Nobel Prize for physics: Physicist Henri Beequerel, who discovered radioactivity in 1898; and a married couple, Pierre and Marie Curie, for their discoveries with radiation.

1904——March 27, 1904, Irish born orator, writer, and penultimate union organizer, Mary Harris Mother Jones was ordered out of Colorado for stirring up striking coal minors. She was called by some as The Most Dangerous Woman in America.

1905——One million immigrants came to the United States in 1905. Most came through Ellis Island. Albert Einstein introduced his theories of relativity, E=MC2.

1906——March 6, 1906, Finland was the first country to give women the vote, women twenty-four and older. April 18, 1906, at 5am, an 8.3 earthquake hit San Francisco, population 400,000. The quake and fires that raged for several days destroyed two-thirds of the city; 315 were listed as killed and 352 missing. Researchers later put the total lives lost at up to 3,000.

1907——The New York Times reported that John D. Rockefeller was the world’s richest man. He was worth $300,000,000. October 21, 1907, the five Ringling brothers (Al, Alf, Charles, Otto and John) buy out their main competitor, Barnum & Bailey, making them a virtual monopoly of the circus business in the U. S.

1908——March 29, 1908, Mutt & Jeff comic strip was introduced in William Randolph Hearst’s San Francisco Examiner by cartoonist Harry Conway. Bud Fisher, then twenty-three years old, would continue the strip until his death in 1954. May 22, 1908, Wilbur and Orville Wright register their flying machine at the U.S. Patent Office. September 16, 1908, General Motors Company was founded by William B. Durant in a holding company with other auto makers. Henry Ford didn’t join, because Durant didn’t believe that Ford’s price of $8,000,000 was worth it. October 1, 1908 the first Ford, known as the Tin Lizzie, rolled off the assembly line in Dearborn, Michigan. Top speed was forty miles an hour; cost, $850.50. Price dropped to $600 in 1912; $290 in1924. Another 1,000,000 immigrants came to the United States; most through Ellis Island.

1909——March 4, 1909, William Howard Taft was sworn in as President of the United States during a howling blizzard. Because of the weather, the ceremony took place in the Senate Chamber. Taft didn’t really want to be President. He was a jurist. He said, Politics makes me sick. April 6, 1909, Robert Peary reached the Geographic North Pole on his third try. His African American assistant, Matthew Henson, planted the American flag at latitude 90 degrees north. Peary wound up with only two toes. August 9, 1909, Mark Twain’s doctor advised him to cut down his cigars to four a day, because of his heart problem.

1910——April 21, 1910, Mark Twain (Samuel Langhorne Clemens), author of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, died in Redding Connecticut. He was seventy-four years old. July 4, 1910, race riots break out in several cities after black boxer Jack Johnson knocked out Jim Jeffries for the World’s Heavyweight Title. As you can see, the first decade of the 20th Century had both disasters and successes and many odd happenings, in spite of the enthusiastic efforts of our diverse population. One notable thing happened in that first decade—Halley’s Comet for at least 2,000 years had swept by our earth causing fear and apprehension. Astronomers had observed that it flew by about every 75 years. Therefore it was expected again about May 18-19 in 1910. Some believed that it’s 60 to 90 mile long gaseous tail might contain deadly poison. There was much speculation as to whether it would hit or even destroy earth. People worldwide were worried. From Berlin to St. Petersburg, Paris to Mexico City, people gathered to pray. Suicides were common. Some celebrated. In New York City, crowds gathered in Central Park, Greenwich Village and on rooftops. Newspapers, coast to coast, carried the story. And then it flew by. What a relief! There were many celebrations and prayers of thanks. Our busy and resilient nation settled down to the problems of making a living and avoiding trouble, realizing that our world was both dangerous and wonderful. What a decade!

That brings me to another event that occurred six months after Hailey’s Comet flew by—November 16, 1910.

Picture of Garza house

Chapter 1:     1910–1922

IT MUST HAVE BEEN a beautiful day on November 16, 1910 in the little community of Garza, Texas. In a little white bungalow on the edge of town, Doctor Taylor had just delivered a blue-eyed surprised baby boy to Gabrilla (Rillie) Robb. She hadn’t really planned on having a baby so soon after her daughter, Sylvia, who was 20 months old, and her brother, Delbert, who was 5, but she was glad that it happened. (My first lucky break) After a spank and a yelp, the little one was quickly taken care of like all babies; lovingly washed, powdered and tucked into the bed prepared for him. The little tyke was me, Glen Robb, who was also glad to be there. I excitedly looked around the big room and at the funny looking people.

Well, Mrs. Robb, I think you’re in good shape. Just take it easy for a week or so. That little boy seems alright, too. He’s a kicker. Lots of energy. A good fit for your fine family.

Thank you, Dr. Taylor. Dr. Taylor left after congratulating Mr. Robb on his new son and thanking the two ladies that had assisted him.

I was later named Thomas Glenmore Robb, after my Dad and a family acquaintance, Glenmore Savage, who was the area undertaker. My mother, Gabrilla Elizabeth (Dixon) Robb and my Dad, Thomas James Robb had married in 1905. My Dad was the MK&T Railroad Agent for the little town of Garza, located between Dallas and Denton, Texas. I don’t remember much about my very early years. I was only eighteen months old when the Titanic passenger ship hit an iceberg and sank. That happened on April 15, 1912. It was a huge ship on its maiden voyage to America with 2224 passengers and crew. It sank within 2 hours and 40 minutes after hitting the iceberg. It didn’t have enough lifeboats for half of those on board. Only 711 out of 2224 were saved, mostly women and children. The rest perished in the cold water. (If you haven’t seen the movie of this awful tragedy, you should try to see it.)

I do remember a few things that happened when I was young. We lived within a block of the center of town. We had a cousin, Bill Morgan, who lived in the area. He was a baseball player. There was a baseball park just a block from our house. One day my sister, Sylvia, and I decided that we’d like to watch a game that Bill was playing in. We could hear the cheering of the crowd. Since it was so close, we just walked over to the park, not thinking to ask permission to go. We climbed up and sat down in the bleachers and started watching the game. Dad, just coming home from work, looked around for us. Mother, who was busy preparing dinner, hadn’t missed us.

Where’s the kids? He asked. Mother looked around.

They were in the yard just a few minutes ago. I can’t imagine where they went, she said. Delbert is in his room.

Dad, hearing the cheering from the ballpark, I’ll bet they went to see Bill play ball. Mother agreed and Dad took off for the park. He found us easily, since the crowd was thin. He called us down and directed us toward home.

It was then that we realized we should have asked for permission to go. To emphasize that point, Dad walked behind us, switching our bare legs with a little limb from a bush on the way. It didn’t hurt much, but the stinging nettles we ran through, was enough to convince us that next time we had to ask permission.

Another thing happened one day that I learned a lesson from. I hadn’t noticed what Mother was doing, when she handed me a quarter and asked me to go to Cromwell’s General Store for a bit of cheese to go in something she was preparing for dinner. By the time I had walked the long block to the store, I had forgotten what I was supposed to get. Mr. Cromwell greeted me in the store.

What’ll you have, young man? He asked. He knew me, since we bought all our groceries from him. I was trying hard to remember. – I forgot," I admitted, a bit embarrassed.

"Was it milk? He suggested.

No.

How about thread? Mother used lots of sewing materials.

That’s it! I agreed, relieved.

What color? White?

Yes. White. That’s it, I said.

When I got home with the thread instead of cheese, Mother had a good laugh at my expense. She kept the thread and sent me back for the cheese. It was a good lesson for me to pay close attention when someone is giving you directions. One of my cardinal rules since is: Don’t make the same mistake twice. Now, if you send me out for a chunk of cheese, I won’t bring back a spool of pink – I mean white thread.

I had typhoid fever when I was three or four, and was very sick.

When I was five years old, Dad rented a house up on a hill just on the outskirts of town. There were a few acres with it and Dad farmed a little, along with his job with the railroad. We had a few fruit trees, beehives, chickens, a couple of horses, and a few turkeys. The nests for the chickens were built two tiers high, with the top tier about shoulder high. Mother gathered the eggs each day. There were two or three hens sitting in the nests. If you didn’t keep gathering the eggs regularly, the hens instinctively would try to hatch them, especially if three or four eggs accumulated. Mother hens love baby chicks. Did you ever watch them mother their little ones? One day, mother reached up to feel for eggs in the top nest. She immediately jerked her hand back, as she screamed in surprise.

There’s a snake in there! Dad, who was near, immediately hurried over with a hoe, fished the snake out and killed it. It was a five foot chicken snake, named because it liked eggs. They are not poisonous and were common in the area. At a later date, Dad killed a copperhead snake in the barn that I almost stepped on. Copperheads and water moccasins are area snakes that are very poisonous. I was always barefooted, except on Sundays when we went to church. How did the snake get up into the top nest? There was a walk-up board that ran in front of the row of nests. Many snakes are climbers. Mother always looked before she reached after that. The old saying, Look before you leap, is good to remember.

Dad kept three or four hives of honeybees about 150 feet from our house. They pollinated several fruit trees on the farm. He robbed them of their honey for our needs, but always left plenty for the bees’ winter food. We had two apple trees that had the best juicy flavor I’ve ever tasted. There was a high wire fence between the orchard and our yard. One day I was playing in the yard and Dad was in the orchard cleaning and trimming.

Glen, hand me that hoe, he said, I need to cut these weeds. I got the hoe, which was on my side of the fence, and started to sling it over, handle first, like a javelin. Dad always kept the hoe sharpened.

Wait! Don’t throw it! Hand it over, he urged. But, I wasn’t listening to him. I was an Indian, throwing a javelin at the enemy. The javelin sailed forward. The sharp blade caught on the top wire of the fence and shot back at me. I put up my right arm to ward it off, but the blade hit my forearm, cutting an ugly gash. Dad rushed over to stop the bleeding.

Next time—, he said.

I know! I answered. His look was enough. I learned a hard lesson. Keep your mind on what you’re doing! I haven’t thrown a hoe over a wire fence since, but if I ever start to, I’ll take a look at the scar on my right arm, and hand it over.

We didn’t have a storm cellar on the hill. In case Dad thought we were in danger of a cyclone, we went to the Henry family’s cellar on our road about 200 yards up toward town. I remember they had a large one with lots of canned fruit and watermelons, potatoes, etc.

Let me say a few things about the little town of Garza. It was on the MK&T railroad line that ran from Dallas to Denton. Most of the people in the area were farmers who lived outside the town, but came into town to shop. Garza featured, besides the railroad station, a Cromwell’s General store, Swisher’s drug store, Dr. Taylor’s office, a blacksmith ship, and a school for the kids of the area. Mr. Swisher, owner of the drug store, had a daughter, Edith, a very pretty girl in her 20’s. Dad’s friend, Homer Carlyle, a local boy, now an officer in the army, was her boyfriend. This was in 1915. My younger brother, Homer Ray, was named after him. I remember how good looking Homer was in his officer’s uniform. He would always bring a treat for my Mother and a box of cookies, fruit, etc. for us kids. I’m sure that he and Edith ended up getting married, but I don’t remember it.

Dad’s job at the railroad station was to sell tickets, take care of any incoming or outgoing supplies, products, mail, etc. He was also the telegraph operator. I think he had a part time helper, but I don’t remember him. Dad also had to dispatch, or receive anything that the freight trains had for Garza. Not all passenger trains stopped at Garza. There was a signal tower that indicated - stop or clear for the train, and a smaller pole that had an arm out toward the track. Mail and other outgoing items from the agent were pouched and hung from the arm. A through train carried a hook operated by the mail or baggage clerk. If the signal showed clear, the train snagged the hanging pouch, and sped on through without stopping; for incoming Garza mail, the train slowed and the mail pouch thrown off to a waiting agent.

Dad had learned to play cornet, and along with a half dozen other men of the area, formed a little brass band. They practiced at the depot. Mother and Dad played a few songs on the piano (mostly religious.)

Homer Ray was born at the little house in Garza on December 3, 1914. We moved to the hill the next year, 1915.

One day, when I was four years old, and we still lived in Garza, Dad had just come home from work. (We had electricity there because our house was near the stores and the ballpark that all had it.)

Where’s McAdoo? he said, looking in the empty living room. (McAdoo was his nickname for me.)

He’s in there playing the reels of the (player) piano, answered Mother, as she continued preparing dinner on the kerosene stove.

He’s not in there, but the piano’s playing.

I guess he went to his room for something, suggested Mother. Just then they heard a tap-tap-tappity-tap-shuffle-tap-tap-shuffle-tap-tap.

What’s that noise? asked Dad.

It must be Glen, keeping time with the music.

Where is he? I don’t see him, said Dad. Dad walked into the living room. The music was still going. Another series of tap-tap-tappity-tap-shuffle-tap-tap came from behind the piano, which was across a corner of the room. Dad looked behind the piano. There I was, trying to do a tap dance like the boys I’d seen at the store.

What are you doing back there? he asked.

Oh, I was just practicing, I replied.

Why don’t you do it out here instead of back there?

I wanted to get good at it and surprise you.

Well, I thought that was pretty good. You don’t need to hide behind the piano. I’d like to watch you, he said, giving me a pat on the shoulder.

We lived on the hill during 1915-1916. I grew up a lot there and had many interesting and memorable experiences.

Old Mr. Peters lived in town, but had a big watermelon patch down past our house just beyond the Hickory Creek Bridge. He was in his 70’s and not in very good health. He had a problem with his lower eyelids, causing his eyes to water and be red. In spite of his frailties, he grew a lot of delicious large red-meat melons, which he sold to the General Store. I felt sorry for him. Mr. Peters used to pick me up in his wagon and I would help him select about 20–25 ripe melons. He would drop me off at our house, giving me a couple for my help. We didn’t have a melon patch on our farm.

The Briscoe automobile

I liked to sit out in front of our house in a spot that overlooked the road and watch the traffic that ran into town. One day, as I sat watching the buzzards lazily circling in the still summer air over the area looking for a dead rabbit or something for their next meal, I wondered how they stayed up with so little effort. Suddenly I heard the darndest racket! It wasn’t a car. I’d never heard anything like it. I thought of a locomotive struggling up a hill. Whatever it was, it was approaching on the road from the bridge over the creek. I was standing up now, staring at where it would appear. And then I saw it, as it slowly came in view! It was a threshing machine, struggling along about three miles an hour and making that ungodly chugging noise as it rattled along the deep sandy road. I had never seen one before. The whole contraption was at least three times as long as a car, and much higher. It had arms and things sticking out over it, and a cab for the driver. It pulled a trailer full of pitchforks and supplies. Besides the driver, three other men were perched on the top. It slowly passed by, going toward town. I could hear it for a long time before the sound faded away. I would tell my Dad all about it when he got home. I sat back down and watched a trail of piss-ants struggling with tiny seeds almost as big as they were.

Glen, don’t you want to come in and take a nap? called Mother from the front door.

No, not right now, I answered. Why are Mothers always checking on kids? I know how to watch out for snakes and stuff.

In 1916, new fast, fancy cars were sold by several manufacturers. We still used a wagon. Dr. Taylor used a horse and buggy. There lived a family down the road and over the bridge from us. They had two grown sons, early 20’s, who still lived at home. They evidently were financially well off, as each boy bought a new Briscoe. One was yellow and the other was green. You could hear them coming as they came through the old wooden trestle bridge over Hickory Creek. Then the boys would roar by our house at about thirty miles an hour. The road in front of our house, in the summer, had ruts in the dry sand from the traffic of cars, buggies, wagons and horses with single riders. I was fascinated by the fancy cars, and their daredevil drivers. They had leather headgear, goggles and gloves. When I heard them coming, I always stopped and watched them zip by.

One day when I was sitting out front, tired of watching the ants with their loads of seeds and stuff, I decided to conduct an experiment. It was about time for one of the Briscoes to roar by. I wondered what would happen if I built up a bump of sand in each track? Would he see them? How high would it bounce? It depended, of course, on how fast he was going. And since they usually went at top speed, it was very intriguing! The only way to find out was to try the experiment. I ran out and built the bumps about 8 or 9 inches high, then ran back to my porch and sat down to watch. In about 4 or 5 minutes I heard one of them rattle the wooden timbers as he flew through the bridge over the creek. Then he picked up speed as he came into view, a cloud of sand dust behind him. It was the yellow Briscoe. That would be Josh. As he neared my bumps, he was at full speed. I was holding my breath as he hit them!

It looked like the car jumped two feet high. Josh flew even higher, and his headgear flew off. There was a loud bang as the motor backfired and died.

Golly Bum! yelled Josh, as he landed back down in his seat. I was a little scared. I didn’t think the bumps would be that bad. So, I just sat there and watched. Josh got out of his car, walked around inspecting it, and scratched his head. He looked around and spied the bumps. Then he kicked them down more level, got back in his car and put his headgear back on. The motor started on first try and he drove off, but not so fast this time. I decided I wouldn’t tell anyone about my experiment, and didn’t. until now. But I learned a valuable lesson: when you do one of your experiments, be sure it’s safe for everybody. (Sorry, Josh!)

Our only mode of travel, except on horseback or walking, was our wagon. One weekend, Dad and Mother decided to visit Grandpa Robb and the girls – Dad’s sisters, Lula and Minnie. They lived in the community of McCurley Prairie. It was about four miles away. Dad’s older sister, Annie, was married and lived in Oklahoma. Mother and Dad rode in the spring seat at the front of the wagon, with Mother holding baby Homer Ray. Delbert, Sylvia and I were on quilts in the wagon bed behind them. Old Bertie, one of the horses,