1945-46-47

TALK ABOUT BEING TRUSTED!

During the summers, three things occupied my time early on I had been asked to handle the horses at a summer camp run by my physics teacher, Mr. Eagleton, in a box canyon south of Lesterville, MO. Population 106. This town had a reputation that was far reaching. It was the moonshine capitol of the Ozarks. The first year I was down there, the revenuers, knocked over 109 stills in the hills around town. At the town meeting held to discuss the matter, the topic of discussion was, not how to stop the moonshine's, but who's cheating. Some of these old boys were so good that in 1947, several of them were made national historic treasures, and were made to go legit! The were put into a licensed, bonded company, and still produced the good stuff, packaged in mason jars, bonded, labeled, and sealed with a government tax stamp. This was even distributed in the state liquor stores, under the labels, Ozark Moonshine, and Ozark real McCoy white Lightning. I also remember that over the post office door, there was mounted the jaws of a Monster Catfish, that was so big, that I could pass it over my shoulders and body.

One hot day down at the sawmill, at lunchtime, one of the youngsters decided to go swimming, and as usual, he tried to swim through an old hollow log that was down there. He went into the log, and found the way blocked by a large fish tail, so he came up, and got his dad, who blew the log with a stick of dynamite, and this monster catfish was stunned, and floated to the surface, where he was shot. They hitched the fish, by the head between 2 horses, and took off for the church. The jaw was saved, and the rest was served up to the congregation for lunch after services. They are all Hard Rock Baptist's down in this part of the country. Don't you ever start to talk Evolution, or that man descended from the apes, or you might get hung, if they didn't run you out of town. I just wonder what would have happened, if the kid had entered through the front end, this tale would have an entirely different outcome. Once they get to know you, they are some of the finest, always there when you need them.

My first job was taking care of the Ramada of 5 horses, and a White Missouri Mocking bird, named Lady. She was the finest ride imaginable, smart, and Boy, could she jump! Then there was a stallion, named Fire, an original, who was a great quarter horse and cutting horse. You just point out the cow your after, and sit back, even drop the reins on the saddle horn, Fire would do the rest. Then there was Corky, a cut male that was Fire's best friend, and just about a smart, the other 3 horses were just good rides, and gentile for the new kids.

I remember, probably the most embarrassing moment that summer, lucky no one saw it happen. I was sent out to the upper part of the valley, some 3 miles back in the canyon, where a large bull had been reported. I saddled up Fire at dawn, and began the search. After some passage of time, I found the bull in the scrub pines, and turned Fire loose, and off we both went. Chasing the bull closer to the lower gate. Now I had a problem, that bull was not going to wait while I opened the gate, he was just going to run away again. I had a rope with me, but I had to get it through his nose ring, to have any control. I was going to have to bulldog him rodeo style and slip the rope in the ring. I urged Fire up along side, at a good gallop, and dove for his horns, but I over judged the jump, and I couldn't get my feet on the ground. Here I was, sitting on the bull's nose, with my arms down and the bull's horns tight in my armpits looking north on a blind southbound bull, who is running like the wind. I didn't dare drop off. I would have been torn to shreds, by those chopping hooves. So I hung on, and soon, my weight on his neck became too much for him. And he slowed to a stop. By now he was all tired out, and I slipped the rope through the nose ring, climbed back aboard Fire, and led a very chastised bull 3 miles down to the camp. Did you have any trouble, Skip? No He was ready to come with me.

After making one float trip with a bunch of kids, using johnboats and a canoe, we were to pass the directors tests, first was to paddle the canoe, up through a rapids, which was a snap for me. Next, was to navigate a johnboat over a low water bridge. Most people don't know what a low water bridge is, so I better explain. In the Ozarks, there is not much infrastructure in those days; the bridges were few and far between. The only steel bridges were the few numbered highways crossed the rivers. Now a set of 6x6 timbers were pile-driven into the river bottom, in pairs about 6 feet apart in both directions, across the river. Stringers connected them all together about 1 ft above the water, and then this was covered with 8-10ft slabs of cut bark siding. This made a roadbed that would support a pickup truck. When the floods came, the siding would wash down stream where it might be used on another bridge. Now the Johnboats were made of three wide planks about 12-20ft long and all curved. The 2 side planks were tapered from full width to about 2 " at each end, these were attached at a mitered edge of about 30 deg. and tapered on both ends to about 2 ft wide from a full width of 3 ft at the middle. This would give you a boat 3- ½ ft wide at the center tapered fore and aft, and a flat platform was mounted at both ends. The draft was maybe 4". And the waterline was 2-1/2ft from the platforms. Now to navigate a low water bridge, it would be lightened and only 2 people would man it. The bridge bark was well soaked with water, and from a short distance up stream we would charge at the bridge, the bow would lift, ad over the top we would go. After a few shots, I mastered the skill and got pretty good at it. Now I was a Licensed River Guide, but only for the two forks of the Black, and Current Rivers.

On one unforgettable trip, this 16-year-old male, took 24 young girls, aged 14 to 18years, all by my self, the director sure trusted me, and I would never break that trust. We had 3 Johnboats, and 2 Grumman canoes. As usual, we were equipped with Marine jungle hammocks, which had a roof, and mosquito netting that zipped up tight. A coffee pot, 4 dozen eggs, 4 lbs. of bacon, flour, butter, sandwiches for the first lunch only and canned whole milk, a coffee, and a big cast iron spider, each of us had a Boy Scout mess kit and canteen. We were to try to live off the land. We were to be on the river 3 days, and 2 nights, basically 3 lunches, the packed sandwiches took care of the first lunch, so we didn't have to forage for very much food. I could always slaughter a small pig, because they ran free on the range. Just don't cut one that has ear notches or ear tags, they belong to some one. The first night, we went frog gigging until we had about 15 lbs. in the gunnysack, they were for breakfast.

The next morning, we built a fire, I cleaned the frogs legs, made the coffee, and mixed up a batch of country bread dough, with flour, eggs and milk with a pinch of salt, and showed them how to rap a clean stick with it, and cook it over the fire like a marsh mellow. There were a few failures, as usual. This kept them occupied while I prepared the frog legs dipping in milk and egg wash, then in salted and peppered flour. Then I melted a bit of bacon fat in the spider, and added the legs, keeping the lid on tight. Boy, you could sure hear them jump, no need to turn them. When the kicking stopped, I took off the lid, and the delicious aroma of fried chicken filled the campsite.

I had no trouble getting the girls to try them. Then I scrambled up about 18 eggs, with milk and seasonings added. My secret method, I had a few things stowed away. After clean up of all the cooking gear, campsite, and packing the hammocks, we loaded the boats and were on the river by 0830. As we proceeded down the river, I caught 4 leatherback turtles, which I prepared out of sight. When I was through with them, they wondered where I got the chicken fried steaks. For dinner, we had fresh catfish and raspberries.

That night, there was a fantastic display of heat lightning, way up to the north. I warned the girls to be sure to tie their hammocks up at least 4 feet high in the trees, because in the morning we would probably be flooded. I made sure all boats were securely tied to trees. Then I lashed the canoes together with branches to make a catamaran. Then I made a branch platform on top. Since there was a full moon that night, I tested my construction, and took a long rope, across to the cliffs and secured one end to a sturdy tree, well rooted in a crack in the rock. Then I went back to camp, and tied the other end above my hammock, secured the canoes to my tree, and after checking all the girls, we all turned in.

The next morning I awoke to a very different world. The floodwaters were about 3 ft deep, and it looked as if it was rising ever so slowly. I told the girl nearest to me to keep the kids in their hammocks until I returned. I climbed into my makeshift craft, tied the river rope to the bow of my canoe, and steered to the far shore where I tied it off and began to climb the cliff. I hadn't gone far when I heard a voice call my name, Skip is that you? Are you all right? Are the girls safe? It was Bill, the farm hand, three other Lesterville men, and Tarzan. She was my buddy, a tall magnificent girl of about 18, who was stronger than most boys her age. They all had started out at first light to find us and bring us back to camp there was a big flatbed, and 3 pickup trucks. I asked one of them to attach my rope to the flat bed, and explained how I intended for him to drive back and forth on the top, so I could pick the girls out of the trees, and load their gear on the catamaran and then current ferry them to the safety of the cliff side. There was a landing about 100 yards up stream, so we agreed to use that to off load everybody. In about 2 hours, we were all out of the trees, and the boats were loaded. And we headed home. Several of the girls had been taking pictures, and it made the St Louis paper, I was A hero, the headlines read, "KIRKWOOD BOY SAVES GIRLS FROM FLOODWATERS" and then there was a long article, as described by 2 of the young ladies who were interviewed. I never got to tell my side, because I was off with a bunch of boys, going down the Current River. There we camped at Blue Springs, Gravel Springs, and Big Springs. All of which are deep under water, when they made the Lake Of The Ozark's.