It was a wild and woolly childhood

About the time the Weston County History Book was compiled, I asked Babe (Ethel) to write down some of her early family history. At that time, she was living in Walla Walla, Wash. It was early 1990s. The following stories are what she wrote from her memories.
 
 
Part II
 
MY MOTHER (Hannah 
Arizona Walker Williams) Continued
When living in Missouri, they lived along the river, so in the summer the kids would go swimming. Grandma always bought outing flannel to make herself long-legged drawers (so-called in the olden days) for winter. Well, Aunt Maggie snuck a pair out and cut the legs off so she could go swimming in them. She hid them down by the river and used them all summer. When it was too late to swim, she put them back in the clothes closet. Grandma went to get her winter drawers and found the legs cut off. It was a good thing Maggie saved the legs she cut off ‘cuz grandma sewed them back on.
When Mother was a girl, people was scared to death of Indians. Some of the Indians were pretty civilized then. They would travel in caravans to different parts of the country. The white people would venture out to the their camps to see them. Grandpa and Grandma Walker went out to their camp one day, taking the kids to see the Indians. The Indians liked white girls, especially blonde and red heads. Aunt Winnie was a red head and about 15. One buck Indian sure took to her and asked Grandpa what he could trade to him for Aunt Winnie. Grandpa said “No way,” but he kept following them around. Aunt Winnie got scared so she started to run for the wagon to go home and she stumbled over a chain on the ground. Before she could get up, out from under a wagon crawled a big black bear. The Indian helped Aunt Winnie up and told grandpa he would give him the bear for Winnie. In the meantime, Grandma and the other kids was watching an Indian woman make bread. She was under a tent. It was fastened to a pole. In the middle of the tent was a small monkey on a chain. He had a tin cup with water in it on a box. He had a piece of rag in his hand, and he would set there and wash it, then run back up the pole and chatter away for awhile, then back down. Ever so often he would jump up and grab some bread dough, run back up the pole. The old lady would scold him. Finally he jumped up on the table, grabbed some bread dough, the ol’ lady knocked him for a loop. He jumped up, grabbed his piece of rag, run up the pole and wiped his butt on the rag, then back down the pole, jumped up on the old lady’s shoulder and stuck the rag under her nose.
Grandpa set up all night ‘cuz he thought that Indian maybe would find out where they lived and come and steal Aunt Winnie. Mother would scare Aunt Winnie, and Aunt Winnie would run in the house and jump in the feather bed. She didn’t care if all of her behind was sticking out just as long as her head was covered up. 
Mother was the only one of her family who left Missouri and moved to Wyoming. In later years, her brother, Pearlie Walker, moved to the Washington coast, then to Milton Freewater, Ore., in 1944. The rest of her sisters and brothers passed away before Mother. 
Mother and I (Babe) went to Ukiah, Calif., during World War II in 1942. Went by bus to Cheyenne, Wyo., to Reno, Nev., San Francisco and up the coast to Ukiah. We stayed two weeks. We came home by Mother’s niece, Lula Hallcroft, who lived in Yuba City, Calif., also came by several cousins. This was the first time Mother had traveled so far. She really enjoyed it but was so nervous because everything was blacked out at night. No lights on, unless necessary. You had to keep the windows blinded so the lights wouldn’t show. There was one air raid alert. Mother was ready to get out of that town. 
We sent for Mother to come out to be with me when I gave birth to my first baby. Mother was mid-wife along with Mrs. Degnor. I had Patty Lou at home on Dec. 7, 1943. Mother was so proud of her.
In November, before Pat was born, we went out to reap harvest on tomatoes and cabbage and what was left in my friend’s garden. They had turned the irrigation water in. I stepped on a big rock and it sank down in the mud up to the calf of my leg. Poor Mother. I was so big with baby and she was laughing so hard she fell down, too. We finally got up, all covered with mud, laughing like the idiots we were. All was well.
We lived in a small, white house and my landlord had a cow in the pasture back of the house. It had a one-wire electric fence. I forgot to tell Mother. She stepped out and threw a bucket of water out and it hit the electric fence and made contact with Mother. She screamed, and threw the bucket. I stood in the house and laughed after it was all over. I told her to be careful.
There was a big peach tree in the pasture full of peaches. Jake the landlord told her she could have all the peaches. She wouldn’t pick any but sure watched that tree. She would go pick up every peach that fell. Close to the last peach on the tree was a big peach. She would stand there and keep her eye on it. She said, “I’ll eat that one.” So, one day while she was asleep, I sneaked out and picked it. She got up from her nap and looked out. She said, “Now someone got my big peach. I’ll scalp him if I find out who done it.” You know me. I acted so innocent. So next morning, I got up before she did and put it on her breakfast plate. Man, she had a fit. But she didn’t scalp me either. She just said, “Shame on you doing your poor Mother like that.”
My mother wasn’t afraid of work. My landlord had our house to paint. So, Mother said she would do it. She was up on an eight-foot ladder putting the finishing trim on. It looked like she was about to run out of paint. She had about two feet to go. She was reaching out as far as she could reach. She had about one-half cup of paint left in the pail on her arm to finish up with. The ladder tipped, she started to fall. She threw the paintbrush but hung onto the paint pail. The ground was damp from rain. She lit on her right elbow of the arm she had the paint pail on, but she didn’t spill a drop of paint. She got right up and finished painting. 
I don’t remember the year that Mother went up the Highway 85 cut-across to the camp Dad made for them to stay at all week when he was digging up the water flume. Mother took our two goats up there. One day she made a cherry pie and put it in a cave Dad had dug back in a bank off a creek for a cooler. Mother wrapped up the pie in a tea towel and set it on a bench. Dad had put it in the cave for her to set stuff on. They walked to town early morning and back in the evening. As they came up on the campsite, Old Billy goat came to meet them. He was a white goat. Mother said she saw his head and whiskers and front legs was all red. She thought someone had shot him!. He run from her. When they finally got to the campsite she saw what had happened. Old Billy had tore down the gunny sack that covered the cave entrance, and he had eaten her cherry pie. Needless to say, she was very upset about it. From then on when they left camp, Old Billy was tied up. 
 
The story continues in next week’s News Letter Journal.