Written by Cora Lee Mason as it appeared in the Arvin Tiller/Lamont Report supplement October 20, 1999.

  In the year 1936 I was eight years old.  Our Family lived in Missouri on my Grandfather Lee's tobacco plantation.  My Grandpa Henry Lee and his wife Almedia had ten children of which my Mother Eunice was the youngest daughter.  So my Grandpa let my Dad Bryan Mize build a log cabin on his property and use the trees from his land.  There was a stream running nearby at the time of construction and lots of good sized rocks which my Dad used to make a nice fire place in the cabin.  What I remember of my Grandparents and that log cabin, is the stream and the woods.  I think it was the most lovely place on earth.  The stream had dried up by the time we left there.

   My Dad had only one brother whose name was Luther Mize and he lived in Oklahoma.  Luther and his wife Irma had five children the same as we had in our family.  Three girls and two boys.  In that order.  The girls were all older than the four little boys.  My youngest brother was a baby still in diapers.

   Uncle Luther lived at Watonga, Oklahoma which is in the wheat belt.  They were being deeply affected by the drought and dust, so he wrote to my Dad asking us to all go to California and make the trip all together.  I can't remember if my Grandparent's crops were being hurt, but surely they must have been.  Then after a few letters back and forth the men had made a decision.  We would go!  Dad would bring his family to Watonga and all of us would travel together as one huge family.

   My Dad began getting things ready.  He had a truck which he had been using in his wood hauling business.  He also had a saw and he cut wood for people and also wood for sale.  Dad built a wooden room on back of his truck.  It was as long as the bed of the truck and as high as the cab.  He made a door at the end and made a shelf half way up inside so it was like bunk beds.  That was for us kids to sleep in.  Dad and Mother slept on the ground.  We traveled like the wagon trains of old times, looking for a place that had water and cooked supper on a camp fire.  Usually they camped near a Service Station, so we could use the rest rooms and get water.

   When we arrived in Oklahoma it was an exciting time to see our uncle and aunt and all of our cousins.  Of course, it was hot dry and dusty but we all were anxious be on our way.  Our family had completed the first leg of the journey and all had gone well so we were in joyful hopes of going on.  My uncle Luther was overhauling his car and was not quite ready to go.  I think it was about a week or ten days we stayed at their house before leaving.

  All of us were happy to be on our way and being together, seeing the world and our camp sites were really great.  The Mothers would cook and we all ate together and the children would play and run.  It was good to get out of the cars and exercise.  Then things began to go wrong.  We had flat tires and my Dad's truck began getting hot and we had to stop often.  By the time we got to Arizona we were out of money.  The men heard of a man who was hiring cotton pickers and had bungalows for the workers to live in.  My Dad and Uncle found the man and both were hired.  I believe the name of the place was Apache Junction, Arizona.

   We were provided with two places to live for our two families.  We had rest rooms and a laundry room, also showers for bathing.  We thought God had really blessed us by giving such wonderful living conditions.  The places that we lived in were half lumber with canvas tops about half way down.  More like tents.  You could roll up the sides for air.  It was a regular camp and several families were there.  Now I can't understand this part.  It's still the time of the drought and here is Arizona with all these lush green cotton fields.  The men were very happy to get the work and of course every one helped.  The older girls took turns taking care of the little boys, and making lunch for the workers.  It was a blessed time of fellowship for our families and the others who lived there.  One afternoon one of the men who was at our camp stayed home and made a big black pot of chili beans.  It was like one of those pots that hang over a camp fire.

   When the workers all started coming in from the fields the man told all the women to bring a pot or big bowl and come and get some beans for their families.  Oh how we did enjoy that treat.  The tents were so close you could see and hear what your neighbors were doing and saying.  Then all at once my Aunt Irma called out real loud "Some body call the Fire Truck."  We all laughed and the neighbors heard her.  She thought the chili beans were too Hot.

   I don't know how long we worked there but finally the men decided they had enough money to finish the journey so decided to start on again.  We said "goodbye" to our friends and set out greatly encouraged.  California is just the next state over and we should be there soon.  Someone had told us of the inspection stations at the state line and that they would not let you pass with any fruits or vegetables.  My Mother was very worried about our potatoes.  She said they were planning on having them that evening for supper.  Well sure enough when we arrived at the inspection station every car had to wait in line.  The State Troopers looked through every car, truck or trailers.  Well they didn't get Mom's potatoes!  When we stopped that evening for supper she brought out the potatoes for Aunt Irma and herself to peel, everyone was surprised.  How did she get by with the potatoes?  Well there was a wooden keg tied on the running board of the truck where she kept the dirty diapers.   Naturally the inspectors did not look in the bottom of that keg!

   When we finally got settled in California my dad had a job with a farmer out at Edison.  I am not sure if the farmer provided it or if my Dad bought it, but we lived in a huge tent.  We called it our circus tent.  Dad worked for the farmer and we three girls went to Edison School.  What I remember of the school was that it was a one room big building and all classes were in one room with one teacher.

   My Uncle Luther and his family moved into Bakersfield.  He was an auto mechanic and also a good carpenter so I guess he found work.

   My Dad was a Minister and he found a small church to pastor near Bakersfield.  It was located just off Brundage Lane and Cottonwood Road in a little community known as "Little Oklahoma."

   Later in life I met a good old Arkie boy who had come to California in the year 1936 also, although I did not meet him for some time.  His family had come here from Texas.  Freeman Mason and I were married, had two daughters Candace and Cheryl and have lived in and around Bakersfield all these years.

Personal reminiscences
The Arvin Tiller/Lamont Reporter
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