The History of Mannford Masonic Lodge

The Masonic Lodge has been an important part of Mannford's history since it was chartered on February 28, 1924. Many, if not most, of the leaders of the town have been Masons. The Lodge is a combination civic organization, charitable group and men's fraternity.

The original charter members included the following:

William A. Barron

Charles F. Carothers

James Henry Carothers

Matthew A. Clegg

Lovell Clark Clifford

Robert Chalmer Cline

Francis Marion Coonrod

Tommie R. Crane

Cecil Eugene Fox

Joseph Wade Gwathney

Bertie Irwin Greenwood

John Wesley Hesterlee

James Hinton

Vernon Harl Hinton

Robert Exum Holmes

Daniel W. Johnson

Clarence Randle McDonald

Thomas Edward Mann

Clarence Willard Newell

Reece Reed

David R. Robinson

Ernest E. Roop

Officers of that first Lodge included Clarence McDonald as Worshipful Master, Lovell Clifford as Senior Warden and Clarence Newell as Junior Warden.

Mannford Lodge has been in operation continuously since that first meeting in 1924. For many years, they met in a room above the Mannford Mercantile in the old town. When it was announced that the town was moving, they started a series of fundraisers and raised enough money to build a new building where it now stands at 106 E. Cimarron Street. In May 1962, the land was acquired and construction began. Grand Master Carson Scott of the Grand Lodge of Oklahoma conducted the cornerstone ceremony in 1964.

Keystone Lodge No. 348 had been chartered in December 1906. When it was decided to build Keystone Lake and the town of Keystone decided not to move, the Lodge there was consolidated with Mannford Lodge No. 515. This took place on December 5, 1961 by order of the Grand Lodge of Oklahoma.

One of Mannford Lodge's outstanding Masons was Eugene (Gene) Fields, a full blood Creek Indian, who became a Mason in 1965 and served as Worshipful Master of the Lodge in 1971. For about twenty years, he was Director of the Oklahoma Indian Masonic Degree Team. This team traveled Worldwide and conferred over eight hundred Master Mason degrees around the globe. Gene was also the first Mannford Mason to be honored by being made a 33^rd Degree Mason, an level few Masons achieve.

In 2001 the Lodge found that it had outgrown the original building and a plan was formulated to add a dining room onto the southwest corner. Construction was started in July and the exterior was largely completed within four months. Most Worshipful Robert Shipe, Grand Master of tThe Grand Lodge of Oklahoma, conducted the cornerstone ceremony on October 5, 200I.

New Wing Being Added

In November, 2010, at the annual communication of the Grand Lodge of Oklahoma, Mannford’s own Glenn Almy was elected to become Grand Master of the State of Oklahoma for the following year. For 2011, he was the highest ranking Mason in the State. Glenn joined Mannford Lodge in 1973 and has held many local and state offices, both before and after his year as Grand Master.

Most Worshipful Glenn Almy

Another Mannford Mason was well known in Masonic circles throughout the State. Jesse Swift served the Lodge for almost fifty one years before his death in March, 2016. Four months earlier he had been awarded the Masonic Medal of Honor, the highest award an Oklahoma Mason can receive. Like Glenn Almy, Jesse had served in several offices, both local and state, and he was a 33^rd Degree Mason.

Projects supported for the past few years include scholarships for Mannford Seniors, awards for Students and Teachers of Today, the Mannford Giving Tree, the Ag Boosters Club, and many more.

The Lodge has been an integral part of the town for ninety eight years and is looking forward to many more.

My First Train Travel

 I think we are all a bit intrigued by the idea of traveling by train.  My first train trip was in 1966 and it was a long one.

I had gone on wheat harvest with my friend David's uncle, Carl Rice.  I rode my Honda S90 motorcycle to Chickasha, Oklahoma, where Carl and his crew were already cutting wheat.  As you might expect, the harvest starts in southern climes and moves north as the summer progresses.

Cutting Wheat in Montana

From Chickasha, we went north to Dodge City, Kansas, where I decided that the motorcycle was too hard to carry from stop to stop so I left it there at a garage, telling the owner that I would return later to get it.  We then made a couple of stops in Kansas and Nebraska, and eventually into Montana.

After spending a couple of weeks in Brockway, Montana (population - less than 100), we moved to Opheim, Montana, 12 miles from the Canadian border.  Unfortunately, it began to rain and continued for days.  Because we couldn't harvest wheat, Carl and the older guys went off to Saskatewan for several days while I stayed in the trailer.

Our Trailer

After about three days, I got really bored and decided to head home.  I had no money so I called Mom and asked her to wire me some, which she agreed to.  I did have enough money to buy a ticked on the local train and headed for Williston, North Dakota where Western Union would have the money for me.

The train from Opheim to Williston was a true "milk" train.  We stopped at every small town and the conductor would load cream cans onto the train.  At one stop, he came into the passenger area and asked if I could help, which I was glad to do.  As it turned out, he needed help loading a casket onto the train!  I was the only passenger and he and I spent quite a bit of time talking.  The train consisted of a locomotive, a freight car, and a combination mail car/passenger car.

Passenger/Mail Car

I don't remember the timing exactly but I think the trip to Williston took about half a day.  Before I left Opheim, I had lost my wallet in the wheat fields with all my identification in it.  During the trip to Williston, it dawned on me that I might not be able to get the $50 that Mom had wired to me.  The conductor told me that he would go to the Western Union office and vouch for me, which he did.

In Williston, I bought a ticket on the Great Northern Empire Builder to St. Paul, Minnesota.  Because I only had a little bit of money, I was traveling in "steerage".  For much of the trip I was unable to find a seat and had to sit on a stool in the restroom.  I spent a whole night on that stool!  We arrived in St. Paul the next morning.

When I got to St. Paul, I boarded the Rock Island Rocket bound for Kansas City.  It too was terribly crowded and I found no comfortable places to sit.  I don't remember much about that leg of the trip except that we got to Kansas City late in the day.

I had a long layover in Kansas City before I caught the Santa Fe Super Chief headed for California.  Thankfully, this train had plenty of room on it and seats were plentiful.  Since I hadn't slept in a couple of nights, I asked the conductor to please wake me when we got to Dodge City and I went into a deep sleep.

Sure enough, when we got to Dodge City, he woke me up and I got off the train.  Although my train trip was over, I still had a long motorcycle ride ahead of me to Mannford.  Of the $50 Mom had wired me, I had $5 left and that was enough to buy gasoline for the ride home and for a candy bar.  When I got home, I had nothing but a little change left in my pockets.

It was a great adventure but I sure wouldn't want to do it again.  Many years later, Louise and I rode trains around Europe for three days and it was much more enjoyable!

The Last River Trip

 If you've read several of these blogs, you know that I've made a few trips down  the Arkansas River to the Mississippi.  The last trip was in September, 2018 and you can read about it in an October, 2018 blog post.

At the time we made that trip, I wasn't sure I would ever do it again.  With each trip, the sleeping bag became increasingly hard and uncomfortable.  However, no one ever accused me of being intelligent so we planned another trip this year.

The group this year would consist of my brother, Milt, and his good friend, Bill, in Bill's boat and my son, Dan, my cousin's husband, Jim, and myself in my boat.  We were going to change things up a bit and leave from Muskogee this year.  We had always left from Tulsa but were going to make this an abbreviated trip.

The plan was to put in at Muskogee Three Forks Harbor, go downstream to Little Rock, then return to Muskogee.  We figured it would be about a four day trip.  We were to leave on Saturday, September 17.

The appointed day came and we met in Muskogee.  We had decided that we weren't going to be in such a hurry on this trip since we weren't going nearly so far as we had on previous trips.  The first day, we took our time and did some fishing.  In fact, Dan caught a couple of Sauger right where the Illinois River dumps into the Arkansas.

Our plan was to spend the first night at Applegate Cove Marina on Kerr Reservoir.  We had stayed there before and had an enjoyable time.  Our first big surprise came when we got to Applegate Cove and discovered that it was closed and out of business!

Finding fuel on the river is always a challenging problem and we had planned on fueling at Applegate.  Fortunately, there was a guy there who had a key to the pump and we were able to top off our tanks.  We got to talking with him and he offered to let us sleep on the dock at the marina.  I'm not sure whether he had the authority to allow this but we took advantage of it anyway.  Sleeping on the dock that night reinforced my desire to not make this trip any more.

The next morning we took off down river and found ourselves at the Corps of Engineers Park in Ozark, Arkansas in late afternoon.  We had stayed in this park on previous trips so it seemed like a good place to stay again.  I haven't mentioned it before the the temperature on this whole trip was just better than unbearable.

After another miserable night of sleeping (and sweating) on the ground, we woke up the next morning and had a meeting.  Everyone agreed that we had had enough so we decided to turn around and go back upstream.  This would cut off at least two days travel to get to Little Rock and back.

Of course, this meant that we would spend the third night out at Applegate and be sleeping on that hard, hard dock again.  The trip back upstream was uneventful and we arrived back at Muskogee on Wednesday, September 20.

You may have noticed the title of the blog, "The Last River Trip".  As far as I'm concerned, unless I acquire a houseboat with air conditioning and a bed, I think I'm done.  I'm aware of the old adage, "Never say never", but I'm pretty close to never.

The Pandemic

 

In January, 2020, Louise and I were in South Texas as we had been for the previous thirteen years. We began to hear news reports of a new virus coming out of China, specifically in the Wuhan Province. The virus became known as Covid-19 or the coronavirus.

It seemed that the news started out as a trickle then became a raging torrent. As the days went by, we began to wonder if we shouldn’t go home. Not only were we concerned that travel might become difficult but our dog (my dog!) J.J., was ill and needed surgery. We made the decision to leave South Texas two weeks earlier than we had planned.

The virus spread from country to country like a wildfire. Transmission was apparently mostly by air. Within a couple of months after getting home, the entire Country went on lock down. Most people didn’t go to work, there were no restaurants or bars open, no churches held live services and so forth. A lot of people learned how to work from home and even attend virtual church services. If you did have to leave your home, you wore a mask and tried to stay several feet away from anyone else.

As you might expect, shortages of goods began to happen. One of the first shortages was of toilet tissue. What does it say about a country or society when the first thing we run out of in a crisis is toilet tissue? Other things, surprisingly, included bread flour. I thought bread making was almost a lost art at home but apparently it’s not – people began baking again.

Although events with more than just a handful people were discouraged, that didn’t stop Louise and I from having a party one evening with nine people there, including R.B. and Teresa Ellis, Bill and Gina Henshaw, David and Lisa Swanson, my brother Milt, and Louise and me. The evening degenerated into drinking tequila shots, all from the same glass. Sure enough, the next morning R.B. was ill and tested positive for Covid. Fortunately, his symptoms weren’t terribly severe but he did miss several days of work at the fire department. The rest of us all quarantined for fourteen days and got tested but no one got the virus. We decided that the moral of that story is that tequila is an effective antiseptic!

As the summer drug on, there was a massive race to develop vaccines. The Federal Government was pouring billions of dollars into this effort. We were being told that vaccines might be available by the end of the year. In fact, there were two companies that were able to get emergency approvals on their vaccines, Pfizer and Moderna. Because there was a very limited supply, the Government developed a priority system. The first people in line were health care and emergency workers.

Because the virus seemed to affect older people much more than younger ones, the next group to get the vaccine was those who were sixty five or older. Louise and I got our first shots on January 19, 2021, and our boosters on February 13, 2021, the day before Valentine’s Day. It was easy to remember the date because we both were sicker than dogs on Valentine’s Day. A lot of people suffered side effects after receiving the boosters.

Within a month after receiving our shots, the general public was allowed to get vaccinated. As with any massive program like this, within a few weeks there was more vaccine than needed. And like a lot of things in our polarized society today, this one became politicized, with some people taking the vaccine and others claiming that the vaccine wasn’t safe.

Our daughter, Rachel, who was teaching school in Broken Arrow, was one who didn’t think she should take the vaccine. So, in late August, 2021, she developed the virus. Shortly after that, her husband, Tom, came down with it as well.

The next wave was the “Delta” variant which has spread across the country and it appears to be even more virulent than the original. While we were seeing the number of cases ebb in early summer, 2021, it began another increase. Fortunately, the vaccines developed for the original virus seem to be effective on the variant as well. The current variant, called “omicron” appears to be much more contagious and consideribly less virilent than the first strains.

Louise and I do know, personally, three people who have died from Covid-19. Phil Finch was a friend of ours from our South Texas trips and was a fine man. Roland Gniech was the husband of Louise’s long time friend from Stillwater, Susan Gniech. The most recent friend to die was Gary McBride, a long time resident of Mannford who was an electrician. He died in early September, 2021. In addition to losing these friends, we know quite a large number of people who have gotten the virus but managed to get through it.

I’m hopeful that this is the last I will write about the Covid-19 pandemic!

Adventures with R.B.

 

One day in late 2013, I found a note on the door at home. It was from a woman asking me to call her – that she would like to talk to me about putting her horse in my pasture. I called her and she explained that she lived in the Lake Country subdivision, across the street from us, and that she had a horse that she was keeping in Sand Springs. She would have to drive back and forth twice daily to feed Roscoe. She asked if I would be interested in letting her keep Roscoe in our pasture. At the time, we had two Nubian wethers (neutered goats), Speed and Pull, and they couldn’t begin to keep up with the grass so I told her that yes, she could bring the horse up there.

A few weeks went by and I didn’t hear anything from her so I called her again. She explained that she and her husband were getting a divorce and she wasn’t sure who was going to get Roscoe. I told her that the offer to put Roscoe up here was still good.  Some months passed and I got another call from her. She and her husband had reconciled and she wanted to bring the horse up. So, in June, 2014, Teresa Ellis and her husband, R.B., brought Roscoe to live with us.

It’s funny how fate brings you twists and turns in your life. We had never met R.B. and Teresa but quickly became good friends, all thanks to Roscoe. They were about fifteen years younger than us but we seemed to hit it off. Teresa would come over two or three times a day to care for Roscoe and eventually we got to where we would feed for her if she was not available.

R.B. was the Safety Fire Chief for the Tulsa Fire Department and reported directly to the main Fire Chief. He and Teresa had a business on the side selling rescue equipment and training fire personnel in the area on ropes and swift water rescue. In addition, R.B. was an avid outdoorsman.

In early 2017, R.B. started planning a boundry waters fishing trip to Minnesota and asked me if I wanted to go. Of course I did! We had two or three planning meetings to get everything in order. In addition to R.B. and me, his son Bobby was going, along with a couple of R.B.’s friends, James Nichols and Travis Sheeder. Of the five of us, I was by far the oldest, some fifteen years older than R.B. and probably thirty five years older than the others. In addition, at 5’9”, I was at least ten inches shorter than all these giants.

On Saturday, June 10, 2017, we all met at my house in the morning, loaded all our gear into my Tiffin motor home, and took off for Minnesota. We all spent the first night in the motor home in the parking lot of the Cabela’s store in Owatonna, Minnesota. After spending a considerable amount of money in the store, we took off the next day and got into Ely, Minnesota just after noon. We met with the outfitter with whom R.B. had made arrangements and got our gear including two canoes and several “Duluth” packs.

We parked the motor home at the Outfitter’s store and he drove us several miles northeast of Ely where we loaded our canoes and took off. The canoes were loaded to the gunwales with gear! In addition to the Duluth packs, we had rods and reels, tackle boxes and kitchen gear. I should explain that a Duluth pack is a giant backpack and can be loaded with as much gear as you can carry.

After about three hours of paddling the canoes, and two portages, we finally arrived at our campsite. We were there for five days and had a great time! We didn’t catch a lot of fish but the ones we did catch were nice. We had two severe thunderstorms on two different nights but were dry as could be in our covered hammocks.

On Friday, the sixteenth, we loaded our canoes and started the long paddle back. Only this time the wind was blowing a gale and I was scared to death that we might sink. Fortunately, we made it back to the takeout point where our outfitter met us. The motor home was loaded up with all our gear and pointed south toward Oklahoma. We left about 2:30 in the afternoon and pulled into my house about 8:30 the next morning.While we were gone, Louise, Teresa, and another of their friends, Janet Varnell, took a three-day trip to Oklahoma City. I’ll bet they didn’t drink as much as we did, though.

In early 2018, the next year, R.B. suggested that we do another Minnesota fishing trip, but this time to a lake where we could take our boats. I told him I was all in on this one, too.

The crew which had gone on the previous trip couldn’t go so we recruited another friend of R.B.’s, Ronnie Fewell, to go along. He had a nephew and nephew’s friend who wanted to go so the five of us made plans to go to Lake Winnibigoshish (called Lake Winnie by the locals) at the headwaters of the Mississippi River in Minnesota. Ronnie referred to the nephew, Denton, and his friend, Clint, as the “crack babies”.

On Thursday, June 7, we loaded our gear and boats and took off for Minnesota. Again, we got to Owatonna the first evening but, because we weren’t in my motor home, had to stay at a motel that night. Once again, we left a lot of money at Cabela’s! Also, on the way up there, R.B.’s odometer in his Ford pickup rolled over 300,000 miles.

We stayed at a place called the Northland Lodge. It’s most redeeming quality was the bar in the Lodge. We spent quite a bit of time there when we weren’t fishing. We caught hundreds of fish, mostly perch, but almost all of them were too small to keep. As usual, our spare time was spent playing cards and drinking whiskey. We had learned on the previous trip that Wild Turkey and Nutter Butters went well together. The convenience store in the small town of Deer River quickly ran out of it’s supply of Nutter Butters.On Thursday the 14^th we started home and, as in the previous trip, drove straight through, getting home on Friday morning.

We weren’t through with 2018. As you’ve read earlier, I had made two trips down the Arkansas River in the past, once in 2003 and again in 2005. So, thirteen years after my last trip I talked R.B. into a river trip.  This time we recruited my brother Milt and his friend, Bill Henshaw. I was to take my boat, a nineteen foot center console fishing boat, and Bill would take his. He had a big wide aluminum boat which was perfect for the trip. My son, Dan, was going to meet us in Arkansas and join the trip there.

On Wednesday, September 26, we loaded up our gear and drove to Bluff Landing Park east of Broken Arrow on 71^st Street, where we launched. By launching at Bluff Landing you can say that you have locked through every lock on the Arkansas River. Louise and Teresa went with us to drive the trucks and boat trailers home.

Our plan was to meet the girls on the 28^th in Little Rock and spend the evening there with them. They were pulling the trailers and were going to spend the next night in Greenville, Mississippi, then meet us and drive back.

The first night we stayed at Applegate Landing on Kerr Lake. The marina operator was nice enough to let us camp in his pavilion so all we had to do was unroll some sleeping bags. Since we had not met Dan yet, there were just four of us. Every one of the four had a CPAP machine to use at night! Fortunately, there were plenty of electrical outlets.

The next day was relatively uneventful. We got to Ozark, Arkansas, where we met Dan and stayed in a Corps of Engineers park, Aux Arc Park. The park was right on the river so all we had to do was pull the boats up to the bank and unload our gear.

There is a lock and dam just outside the park and we got through it the next morning, September 28. After that lock is a seventy eight mile run down the River and Dardanelle Lake to the next lock. This was the longest stretch on the trip and took several hours. At the end of Dardanelle Lake is the lock and dam by the same name. This is also the largest lock on the entire system with a forty eight foot elevation change. Those locks are amazing feats of engineering.

We met the girls in Little Rock as planned, at a marina where we had made reservations to spend the night on a couple of boats in the marina. Louise and I and R.B. and Teresa were to stay on a houseboat with two bedrooms and the three other guys were staying on a cabin cruiser. We went out to dinner that night and had a wonderful time.

We woke up the next morning to some of the most dense fog I’ve ever seen. None of us wanted to venture out into that stuff so we found a restaurant close by and had a leisurely breakfast. Finally, about eleven, the fog started to lift. We topped off all of our gas cans, said goodbye to our wives and took off down the river. Little Rock is the last place before Greenville to purchase gasoline.

There is a lock and dam just downstream from Little Rock, David Terry Lock and Dam. Fate was not kind to us this morning – we got to the lock just as a barge tow was coming up. It was a big one, too, so it was going to take a couple of hours to get it though the lock.

I should explain that pleasure craft are the lowest forms of transportation on the totem pole on the river. About the time they were finishing up the barge tow, another big one arrived from downstream to be locked up. So, we sat there another two hours! We had lost three or four hours in the morning with the fog and how we’ve lost another four hours at this lock.

After we finally got through David Terry, we had to run hard to make up some of the time we had lost. It was Saturday, the 29^th and we were to meet the girls in Greenville the next morning. We finally decided to make camp just below Emmett Sanders Lock and Dam, some sixty six miles from the Mississippi River. We had only made fifty two miles that day.

We pulled the boats up on a sand bar, unpacked and had a delicious shore meal. I should point out that R.B. was quite a camp cook and took over that chore on every trip we made. The only downside is that he brought a lot of cooking gear with him!

We set our camp up, including tents because we knew that the mosquitoes would be horrible and, sure enough, they were. Because four of the five of us used CPAP’s, we had brought a portable generator to power them and we had extension cords running everywhere. The next morning, I was told that we had a group of four-wheelers come through the camp late in the night. I never did hear them.

The next morning, Sunday, we knew we had to run hard to get to Greenville at a reasonable hour. We were planning on driving all the way back to Mannford that evening. We had a quick breakfast and took off.

Now we came face to face with the gasoline problem. We had topped off the tanks in Little Rock but knew it was going to be close to get to Greenville. My boat had a forty eight gallon main tank and I had a twelve gallon portable tank as well. When we got to Greenville, the big tank was dry and the portable tank had about two gallons in it. Bill, in the other boat, was just about as dry.

Louise and Teresa met us at the boat ramp and we got the boats loaded onto the trailers. They had been waiting for us and had started to eat lunch at a Huddle House when we called telling them that we were at the boat ramp. We went with them back to the Huddle House and had one of the worst meals I’ve ever had. Milt continues to tease both Teresa and Louise about the Huddle House today.

Although we got a late start, the trip back home was uneventful and we got there very late Sunday night.

Years earlier, R.B. had had a cancer removed on his tongue. In early 2021, it manifested itself again and he had surgery to remove it. This time the surgery was more in depth and he was in the hospital several days. Because of the Covid pandemic, he was not allowed to have visitors. He got out of the hospital on Tuesday, February 23, and went home to be nursed back to health by Teresa.

The next morning about eight, I got a phone call. It was Teresa telling me that R.B. had just died. He had gotten up, was walking through their house, fell and just died. He was sixty years old. Three days later, on February 27, his funeral was held at the First Baptist Church in Tulsa. It was the largest funeral I had ever attended. Most of the Tulsa Fire Department was on hand, along with many firemen from outlying departments. The Mayor of Tulsa was in attendance as well as several other dignitaries.

R.B. was a good friend and a great person. I shall miss him.

Albert Lee Wyatt

 It's been almost a year since I've posted anything here and, all of a sudden, I feel a need to post some things.  This entry is about a man who was my father's half-uncle.  Neither my father nor I ever met the man but I've done quite a bit of research on him.

Albert Lee Wyatt (1878-1949)

Albert Wyatt was born in 1878 to L.A. Wyatt and Laura Dunham. His father was from Tennessee and his mother from Missouri but they had migrated to Palo Pinto County in Texas when Albert was born. L.A. and Laura had married in Palo Pinto County in 1878 so it may have been a “shotgun” wedding.

L.A.’s fate is not known but Laura remarried in 1885 in Fannin County, Texas, this time to William Eugene Porter. William was born in Minnesota but had lived in Missouri and Texas before his marriage to Laura.

William and Laura had five children:

Ethel Dorothy 1887 Grayson County, Texas

Thomas Perry Sr. 1888 Travis County, Texas

Hermina 1893 (Location Unknown)

Doss Alan 1898 Indian Territory, Oklahoma

Arbell 1899 Indian Territory, Oklahoma

The 1900 Census found William Eugene and all five of his children, as well as his stepson, Albert, living in the Chickasaw Nation in Indian Territory. William’s marital status was listed as “widowed”. It is possible that Laura had died while giving birth to their youngest daughter, Arbell.

In about 1901, when Thomas was thirteen, he ran away from home, wound up in the Mannford/Keystone area and never saw his father again. William apparently remarried and he and his second wife had two daughters whose names are unknown.

By 1906, Albert had married a woman named Calvin “Callie” Horton and they had a son, Raymond. Raymond lived in Mannford, Oklahoma most of his life and went by the nickname “Slip”. He became the local town “ne’er do well” and spent most of his time drinking. He was also rumored to have been a moonshiner but this has not been confirmed.

At the time of the 1910 Census, Doss was living with his older sister, Ethel, and her husband, William Renner, in Roger Mills County in far western Oklahoma. Thomas Perry has not been found in that census, neither has his half-brother Albert. It is presumed that Thomas was in the area of Mannford or Keystone since he is presumed to have fathered Tommy Alexander who was born in February, 1911.

By 1917, Thomas had moved back to Texas, living in Archer County, and working as a cowboy on the Waggoner Ranch. In the 1920 Census, Albert was living with his wife, Callie, and their son in Mannford. Doss was not found in the 1920 Census but apparently he and Albert kept in contact with each other.

In 1921, Doss married Emma Marie Vanderpoll and they had two sons before 1930. Most of this time, they lived in Oklahoma City but, by 1930, they had moved to Binger, Oklahoma. Binger is west and south of Oklahoma City and just south of Hinton, Oklahoma. In 1930, Albert and his wife, Callie, and their son, Raymond, continued to live in Mannford.

By 1935, Doss and Albert both had moved to the McCloud/Dale area in Pottawatomie County. Doss had his wife and two sons with him but Albert had left Callie and their son, Raymond, in Mannford. No record of a divorce has been found. While living in Pottawatomie County, however, Albert either married a second time or took a common-law wife. Her name was Ida May (or Mae) McCartney. She had a son, Merlyn, who was born about 1921, and a daughter, Delores, born about 1926. The identity of their father is unknown but they took Albert’s last name and were listed in census records as Merlyn and Delores Wyatt.

During the mid- to late-1930’s, the depression had worsened to the point that many Oklahomans were leaving and going to California. Albert Wyatt and Doss Porter joined this migration and moved to Riverbank in Stanislaus County. Doss was still married to Emma but Albert had his new family with him. According to family members, Albert and Doss were always close and these moves confirm that relationship.

Albert died in 1949 at 70 years of age. His second wife, Ida May, remarried to a man whose surname was Blackwood. She died in 1997.

Doss’s wife, Emma, died in 1950 at 50 years of age and Doss remarried a woman named Bessie Pitts. He died in 1976 at the age of 77.

Callie Wyatt, Albert’s first wife, remained in the Mannford area for the rest of her life and is remembered for her gardening skills. She apparently was always surrounded by beautiful plants and flowers. She died in 1973 at age 91 and is buried in Oilton, Oklahoma.

A Chance Meeting

 It's strange that a chance meeting of only a few minutes can alter your life forever.  Such a meeting happened to me on September 15, 1973.

We lived in east Tulsa at the time.  I was returning home by myself, probably from my parents' house in Mannford, and was driving my wife's yellow Ford Ranchero.  As I negotiated the north leg of the Inner Dispersal Loop, I was following a fairly new Dodge or Plymouth sedan pulling a U-Haul trailer.

As we approached the Denver Avenue overpass, the U-Haul began to whip violently from side to side and, in an instant, came completely around and struck the side of the sedan which was towing it.  I had seen this kind of behavior from trailers myself.  It is caused by not having enough tongue weight on the hitch - in other words, the load is too far back in the trailer.

Ollie Lamont Friend was born on December 22, 1918 in Goodman, Missouri, a small town in the southwest corner of the state.  He grew up there and, on Valentine's Day, 1939, he married his sweetheart, Vera Grace Martin.  Ollie and Vera continued to live in southwest Missouri for some time but eventually moved to Tulsa, probably because of job opportunities.

The Friends were returning to their home in Tulsa after visiting their daughter and son-in-law in San Antonio.  The daughter had given them a window air conditioner for their home but it wouldn't fit in the sedan they were driving so they rented a U-Haul trailer to carry it in.  Ironically, they were less than two miles from home when the trailer began oscillating.

The car and trailer came to a stop in the middle lanes of the expressway directly over Denver Avenue.  I pulled my car off to the side and got out to help.  By this time, traffic began to come to a halt and there was a minor secondary collision behind us where someone had not gotten stopped in time and rear ended the car in front of them.

I walked over to the Friends' car and saw that the trailer, when it came around wildly, had struck the rear fender of their car and pushed it in against their tire.  Not wanting to ruin his tire, Mr. Friend retrieved a tire wrench from the trunk of his car and was trying to pry the fender away from the tire.

While he was attempting to pry the fender out, Mrs. Friend cautioned him against too much exertion, mentioning that he had a heart condition.  When she said that, I told Mr. Friend to give me the tire wrench and I would pry it out.  He handed it to me and stepped back.

All of a sudden, I was struck by something and found myself laying on the pavement about ten feet from where I had been kneeling.  It was such a surreal moment!  I looked around and saw Mrs. Friend lying against their car, moaning.  Mr. Friend was lying on the pavement about twenty feet from me, lifeless, with blood all around him.

As I was trying to make sense of all this, an ambulance was backing up to the scene.  The EMT's attended to the Friends and put them in the ambulance for transport.  As this was happening, a young man walked up and asked if anyone knew what he had hit.  He had been riding a 125cc motorcycle and hit something which knocked his glasses off.

I surmise that the motorcyclist was distracted by the secondary collision behind us and was looking at it and never saw us.  It would appear that he struck Mr. Friend first, knocking him into both me and Mrs. Friend.  I had what I thought was a sprained ankle and I found out later that Mrs. Friend suffered a broken arm and some broken ribs.

Soon a Highway Patrolman was on the scene and had the motocyclist and me in his patrol car.  That's when he told us that Mr. Friend did not survive, something that I had already suspected.  The name of the motorcyclist has been long forgotten, if I ever knew it at all.

When the Trooper released us, I drove home to tell Louise all about what had happened.  By the time I had gotten home, I was really in pain and my ankle was swelling so I had her drive me to the hospital emergency room.  The staff x-rayed my ankle and, sure enough, it was broken so they put me in a cast.

I did talk to Mrs. Friend several times after the accident and, as might be expected, she was very upset.  The motorcyclist had not gotten even a ticket; the Trooper said that we did not have adequate traffic control set up after the trailer had jackknifed.  Also, she was dismayed that the motorcyclist never contacted her to apologize or ask how she was recovering.

As for myself, my recovery was uneventful.  I was in the cast for six weeks and then it was cut off.  My office was very near that of the General Manager, Les O'Donoghue who had his own private bath.  He insisted that I use it while I was in the cast so that I wouldn't have to walk all the way down the hall to the main mens' room.

One funny thing did happen out of this.  Louise and I, along with another two couples, went dancing one evening while I had my cast on.  While we were dancing, I heard a man at a nearby table say "Damn, I've seen tough places before but I've never seen this!", referring to me dancing with my cast.

As I grow older and begin to contemplate my own mortality, I'm reminded of those who have already passed.  Although I didn't know Ollie and Vera Friend, the intersection of our lives left a lasting impression.  Mrs. Friend passed away on November 5, 2006 at the age of 85.  She never remarried after her husband's death.