Sam McGhee

Bertha McGhee's memories
As told to Gail Martin

Memories of 'papa'

Papa was just an average sized man and he had wavy white hair even though he was only twenty-eight when I was born. In 1902 papa had a bout with typhoid fever and he finally lost all his hair and it grew back in white. He had smiley blue eyes and a brown mustache (much of the time) - he always shaved it off in the winter - when it got icicles.

Papa loved to garden and specialized in his orchard. In the town block - about three acres in Tyro, Kansas, where papa built our home in 1909, he planted grape vines, huckleberry, blackberry and raspberry bushes; apple, peach, plum, cherry and pear trees. He also set out a large strawberry bed and many walnut trees. Papa wanted us to be self-sufficient when these began to produce. We always had produce from our big garden plus we raised cows, pigs and chickens. Papa rented land for farming and planted sorghum cane, then made molasses in the fall. He used a horse-powered mill that squeezed the juice out of the cane. The juice ran into a series of shallow pans with fire under them, where is boiled to just the right consistency.

During the time papa was building our home on the west edge of town, he took a job as night watchman at the Tyro Glass factory which made chimney's for lamps and lanterns. Papa prepared the sand and chemicals for the following day's run. He worked there for three years until natural gas supply became too low and the company moved to Sand Springs, Oklahoma. Papa and his team helped move the factory's equipment on that long haul.

Papa worked for hire with his team of horses helping farmers, grading roads for Montgomery county and hauling pipe in the new industry in Kansas -- the oil fields. My earliest memories are of running to meet him as he came home from work. He would swing me up on the wagon seat to ride the few feet home with him making me feel so special.

At home papa loved to play the pump organ and when I would learn a new song at school or Sunday School or Campfire Girls, I would be eager to sing it to papa. Papa had a good tenor voice and sang in the choir at our local Methodist Church. He had learned music in Arkansas when a turning fork was used to get the pitch and the melody was learned by singing do, re, me's. So papa could take a piece of music and sing the notes until he had the melody in his head, then he'd set down and play it on the organ by ear - just adding chords for the left hand.

Often on Sunday afternoon neighbors and friends would come visiting and stand around the organ to sing while papa played. On the back porch Mama and the boys would make a freezer of ice-cream to be shared after the singing was finished.

Story ID:	523
Written by:	Gail Lee Martin (bio, contact, other stories)
Organization:	Kansas Authors Club
Story type:	Musings, Essays and Such
Location:	Tyro Kansas USA
Year:	1900
Person:	papa