Marshall County, Oklahoma - MEMORIES OF WOODVILLE, INDIAN TERRITORY --------------------------------------------- Copyright © 2000 by Written by Ivy Griffith Thompson Transcribed by her daughter, Beverly Thompson Collins GBC74030@wmconnect.com This copy contributed for use in the USGenWeb Archives. -------------------------------------------- USGENWEB ARCHIVES NOTICE: These electronic pages may NOT be reproduced in any format for profit or presentation by any other organization or persons. Persons or organizations desiring to use this material, must obtain the written consent of the contributor, or the legal representative of the submitter, and contact the listed USGenWeb archivist with proof of this consent. The submitter has given permission to the USGenWeb Archives to store the file permanently for free access. ------------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------------ Preface by Beverly: This article is taken from a book of memories written by my mother from 1974- 1977 when she was in her eighties. Ivy Griffith Thompson was born February 27, 1893, in Blossom Prairie, Texas. She and her parents lived in Texas until she was about 41/2 years old. In September of 1897, Ivy's father, James Albert Griffith, was bringing Ivy and her mother, Cordelia "Delia" Hughes Griffith, back to Arkansas to be closer to their families because Delia had become an invalid. They reached DeQueen Arkansas, and were at the home of Delia's sister and brother-in- law, Susan and W.S. Billy Arrington, when Ivy's father suddenly became ill and died three days later on September 11,1897. In November of 1897 Ivy and her mother moved to Woodville, I.T. with Aunt Susan and Uncle Billy Arrington. They made the trip by covered wagon. These are Mama's memories: My very earliest memory is of sitting on a bed in the back of a covered wagon and hearing my mother say, "Honey, that is where you were born". All I remember seeing is open space, but I was looking, as I've always remembered, to the east. The little town of Blossom Prairie, Texas, now called Blossom. My parents and I were traveling from Waco, Texas, to DeQueen, Arkansas. When we went back to DeQueen, Arkansas, from Waco, Mamma had been sick a long time and they had to go where they had relatives. I remember our being in the wagon and it was stuck in mud. Papa was on the ground trying to get the team to go. A man and boys came to help. It was Uncle Billy, Tom and Charley. We were almost to their house. The last memory of my father was someone, I think it was Uncle Billy, held me up to look at him in his coffin. We had been there only a short while when he got sick. He died within three days. They called it a congestive chill. What that would be now I don't know. They said he had never been sick since they had known him. He is buried at Chapel Hill a country cemetery near DeQueen, Arkansas. He was born in Stoddard County, Missouri, near Dexter, October 5, 1863 died Sept 11, 1897. A very short time after Papa died, in November, we came to Indian Territory. I can remember the campfires, always near a stream of water, and Aunt Susan cooking on the campfires. We slept in the wagons and on the ground. Woodville was a village. I can remember the names of all the people who lived there when we did. Dr. Watterson's widow, her son Jim, four daughters, Cornelia, Myrtle and twins, Okla and Homa. Myrtle married Paul Burney and they had a son named Ben; The blacksmith, Jack Thomas and wife, boys Ed, Oscar, Theodore, Clarence and Roy. Roy's wife was Edna; Dr. Jones and wife, son Will, girls Neva and Carrie; John and Addie Taylor. John had a grocery store at the first Woodville, as did Uncle Billy Arrington. Later, when they moved to New Woodville John and Uncle Billy had a store together; John's brother, Mukey Taylor and wife; The Moyers family. - Fanny Woods husband is one of them; The Sliger family; Up the road a little way was Grandma Brown, John and Will; Drew Duckett had 5 small children. His mother was named Burkitt; The Bostick family had three daughters: Sue, Nell and Edna, who married a Buck; Ma & Pa Dowdy's family: Ella, married a Mayberry Della, married a White. The White's had three daughters: Frankie, Virgie, and Billie Frank Dowdy Jim Dowdy Hall Dowdy - close to my age Arthur Dowdy Beulah Dowdy - married a Gorrell Ma Dowdy's mother, Grandma Cox. Her husband had been scalped by Comanche Indians in west Texas. The Willis family, the Vann family and the Christian family. Old Man Holmes Willis, Willa Deane's grandfather, (he was always called Old Man Holmes because he had a nephew named Holmes) was highly respected and loved because of the help he always gave others who were less fortunate. He had three half-sisters, Amanda Hayes, Ellen Moore, and Aunt Lottie Vann. Aunt Lottie Vann was Lee Dowdy's grandmother. Aunt Lottie's first husband was a McLaughlin and they had one child, Amanda. A man came to the door one night and shot and killed Mr. McLaughlin. Amanda was married to Edward Walter Christian and they had three children, Lee, Lottie and John. After Mr. Christian died Amanda married Dan Hicks. She was carrying a kerosene lamp across the room when it exploded, and she died from the burns. Amanda's daughter, Lee Christian, married J. Frank Dowdy. Lee attended Bloomfield Academy, a school for Indian girls. In later years, a girl who didn't want to stay there burned the academy down. Aunt Ellen Moore's first husband was named Christian. He and his brother fought a duel out in the peach orchard and both were killed. Her daughter, Maude Christian, was married to Will Jones. Uncle Tom Christian was Mary Nell Coffee's great uncle. He married Martha Elizabeth Mattie Wallace. Mattie's sister, Mamie (Mary Mildred Mamie Wallace who married Perry Walter Henry) died and Uncle Tom & Aunt Mattie helped raise Mamie's children, George, Jim, Aletha and Maude Henry. Aunt Mattie and Uncle Tom were fine people. I loved her as much as if she had been my own family. One family that visited in our home when I was a little child was Slack Brown's family from Isom Springs. One time we went down there to an Indian church all day preaching and dinner on the ground. The only words in the Indian tongue we could understand were Jesus and Amen. They were speaking in the Chickasaw tongue. One of the people I knew as a child was Mrs. Bell, the widow of an early day missionary to the Indians. The Indians gave her and her husband 80 acres of land. She had a big house and her yard was large, filled with flowers. In one corner was a family burial ground, with several graves, all with gravestones. She lived alone with her housekeeper, Alice McDuffie, a deaf mute, sister of Harve and John McDuffie. John and his wife were close friends of ours. He worked in Uncle Billy's store. Mrs. Bell had one son who lived at Woodville and his children and I went to school together. His son Ben became a Methodist minister. Another man, Colonel Jim Thompson, a big landowner is one I've always remembered. His son, Harry, was a rancher. In later years Russ and I attended Harry's funeral at his ranch house near Mill Creek. The funeral procession to his grave was led by one of his cowboys riding Harry's favorite horse, with his dog following along. One story that I heard many times as a child was that Aunt Jane Tussey rode on the streets of Tishomingo like Lady Godiva. Whether it is true or not, I do not know. Uncle Willis Arrington lived in a tent a little way out. He made coffins and was buried in one he made. After his death his wife and children went back to Texas. Jim and Harriet Arrington, Uncle Billy's parents, lived out on a farm right on the banks of the Red River. Grandma fished every day, and one-day she was late. Her grandson Thomas, who lived with them, found her on the bank of the river unconscious. She had a stroke, and was never up again. Her daughter and daughter-in-law took care of her for a long time. She died about 1902 at Uncle Billy's house. After she died, Grandpa Arrington and his two grown grandsons, Thomas Willeford and Albert Fisher lived with us. James and Harriet Arrington's children: John Thomas Tom Arrington, a Baptist preacher, wife Ruth, daughter Maude; (Tom's first two wives had died and Ruth's first husband, Mr Post, had died. Her children by Mr. Post were John, Mary and Bennett. Tom's children from a previous marriage were Frank and Annie. Their mother was Mattie Cole.) Willis Arrington and wife, Emma, and children William S. Billy Arrington (grocer) and wife, Susan (Susan Margaret Hughes). They had no children of their own, but raised two foster sons, Tom & Charley Sparks, and were raising me and Gracie Stephens. I was the only one who was kin to them. Some of the kids at school told Gracie that she wasn't Aunt Susan and Uncle Billy's child and she was broken hearted. Joe Arrington (lived at Iredell, TX) wife Emma, sons Hamp & Joe, and two daughters. Dolly Arrington, first married to a man named Fisher, then to a Burnett; Emma Arrington Uncle Billy put in a grocery store at Woodville. He hauled his supplies from Denison, Texas. It was only a few miles but it took one day to drive over there, crossing the Red river on a ferry boat, took a day to buy and load the stuff and a day to come back. Sometimes we would go with him. Stayed at the Major's Hotel. They had a daughter my age named Bessie and we would walk around. My, what a big town! The mail was brought once a week to Uncle Billy's store from Preston Bend, Texas. The mailman drove a one-horse buggy and crossed the Red River on a ferryboat. Sometimes he'd bring a newspaper. I remember the news of McKinley's death. The first thing the settlers did was prepare a place for worship and school. We went to Sunday School and church under a brush arbor in the summertime, then we used a tent and later a one room building that served as church and school. Sollie Mandrell was the schoolteacher. He lived out in the country. I thought he was the smartest man in the world. Friday afternoon at school was the spelling bee. Two people would choose and the two groups would spell each other down. The side with the most words spelled right won. At church men and boys sat on one side of the church and women and girls on the other. Even married couples didn't sit together in church. There was a well outside. One dipper served for everyone to drink from. I remember when I was a little girl, Uncle Billy and Aunt Susan took Grace and me in the buggy on a Sunday and we attended services at a Negro church somewhere out on the prairie. When I was a child, a colored man named Adam brought wood to us. Grace and I liked him and always went out and talked to him. One day, Grace, Althea and I were walking by the old graveyard. The graves of the Indians had little log cabins built over them with a small opening in each end to look through. We saw some Indians with feathers in their hair and did we ever run. They had come to visit the graves but we thought they had come to get us. When I was a little child, I had a wart on my foot and someone told me that if I would steal a dishrag and rub it on the wart that the wart would go away. I went across the creek bridge to Aunt Ruth's house when I knew they weren't at home. I stole her dishrag, rubbed it on the wart, then threw the dishrag in the creek. I was really scared that I'd be found out. The wart disappeared and never came back. I can't explain that. People in those days told ghost stories and evidently believed them. I would sit on the floor with my back again the chimney jam, scared to move. At the first Woodville we little girls wanted to learn to dip snuff. We would manage to get some snuff from the bottle and would slip off down to the creek and sit in a row on an old tree that had fallen across the creek. Each of us would get a twig, chew the end of the twig, and dip it into the snuff and put it in our mouths. We really felt grown up. I was the only who couldn't take it. It made me sick every time. The others all learned to dip. I even tried it again in my late twenties with my friend, Mabel Conwell, but I still couldn't swing it. Sometimes we don't recognize blessings till later. Mamma was an invalid when we came to Woodville and had lost her eyesight. I can remember that I would hold to her arm when she was still able to walk in the yard. She had been a schoolteacher before she married Papa and she taught me to read. I was reading from McGuffey's Third Reader before I was old enough to go to school. I was sitting by the fire reading when Uncle Billy came and said, Honey, put your book down and come back here, your mother is dying. Aunt Ruth Arrington told me, after I was grown up, that they had to take Mamma's arms from around me after she was dead. I remember standing by her coffin at the cemetery at old Woodville, a short way from the Red River. For many years I remembered a song that was sung at her graveside, but it has faded away down the years. They told me that on her deathbed she sang How Blessed Are They Who The Savior Obey. Mamma died February 15, 1899, just 12 days before I was six years old. Shortly after Mamma's death Uncle Billy, Aunt Susan, Grace and I got on a train at Pottsboro, Texas and went to Iredell, Texas for a visit. Uncle Joe and Aunt Em lived there on a farm. There was a mountain in front of their house and on top of it a playhouse that two of their girls had built. Not long before we went there the two girls were drowned in a river. They had gone to town to buy material to make a wedding dress for one of them. The river had risen and they drove into it and their buggy washed downstream. Later the family moved to Woodville. Around the turn of the century a new townsite was laid out about a mile from Woodville, and New Woodville was started soon after. We were the first family to move there. Uncle Billy moved his store and our house. Uncle Tom Christian told me that our house was the first frame house built in that part of the country. There were two grocery stores. Reece Owen had a grocery store right across the street from Uncle Billy's and John Taylor's store. One time, we were coming home from Old Woodville, and not more than a mile away we met a funeral procession and saw a hearse for the first time. Mrs. Reece Owen had died and the hearse came from Denison. Most usually coffins were put into the back of a wagon and covered with a quilt and burial services were held at the graveyard. We had the privilege of watching the Frisco railroad built. We watched the men prepare the roadbed and lay the ties and rails. Then we had the thrill of seeing the first train when it came through. Two of the men who helped to build the railroad boarded with us. After we moved to New Woodville we continued to go back the old Woodville schoolhouse. Some of the pupils were as big as the teacher, but I never knew of one defying the teacher's authority. Had they done so they would have been dealt with at home. School teachers in those days were revered next to the preacher. Later we went to school on the second floor of Reece Owen's store until another one-room school was built. Miss Laura Carpenter from Monett, Missouri was my teacher. I loved her. When we first moved to New Woodville the Cook family, Jane Willis' folks, moved there from Tennessee and lived across the street from us. There were three teenage boys, three smaller ones, a teenage girl and Bertha and Jane. Two married girls stayed in Tennessee. Their father was a preacher but I don't know what church. We all used to play together. Old man Holly killed Jane's brother Albert. Shot him out in the woods. Nobody saw him so he got out of it. Everyone said he did it. G.W. Thompson, wife Sinia, daughter Nora and three sons Cleve, Russ and Ernest lived in the New Woodville. I went to school with Russ and Ernest. My Sunday School teacher was Lucy Bussell, now Lucy Taylor. Her father was accused of murder and served a term in the penitentiary. Was pardoned by Theodore Roosevelt through the help of Harve McDuffie and Hick Ray, who were with Roosevelt's Rough Riders in the Spanish-American War. We used to stay awake at night on Christmas Eve just as long as we could, watching for Santa to come down the chimney. Always went to a tree and program at church but Santa would bring us a little gift, too. Peppermint candy, an apple and an orange. One year Lucy Bussell put a doll under the Christmas tree for me and it was such a great gift. I named the doll Lucy, made clothes for her and treasured her for many years. Aunt Rhoda Purcell put in the first hotel at new Woodville. When the railroad was built the drummers all traveled by train in those days and put up at hotels. Later the Ramsey family moved there and built another hotel. Many outlaws came from the States. There was no law except a few Federal Marshals. People would get into trouble in the States and run away to the Indian Nation. Many of them were never found. When I was a little girl, there came to our neighborhood a very nice young man named John Brown. He became a well respected citizen, married into a good family. Many, many years later, after Statehood, he was found to be John Howard, who had killed a man in Tennessee. His parents and brothers came to Oklahoma, bought land and became some of the leading families. The man lived many years before his death as John Howard. Another memory of my childhood is that of outlaws riding into town across the store porches and shooting, just to scare people I suppose. One day Uncle Billy had just come to dinner and sat down when we heard gunshots. He jumped up and said, Bob Hume has killed Dan Ayers. It was self-defense. One of Bob's sons was a close friend of Russ and another was my boyfriend, as was Ben Bell. Our biggest entertainment was meeting the train about sundown. All the young people would be there. In those days the 4th of July picnic was one of the most important days of the year. We had ice cold lemonade and there were political speeches. Sometimes a shoot-out and someone killed. One time Aunt Susan had Fanny, a Negro woman, working for her and Fanny was cooking our picnic food. Grace and I must have been staring, for Fanny said, Honey, that black won't rub off. One time at old Woodville, a stranger was staying the night and he said to Uncle Billy, Why don't you give me one of these little girls? I don't have any. Uncle Billy asked, Which one do you want? He thought for a minute and said, I'll take the curly haired one. I slipped out and sat on the stile in the gateway and looked up at the moon and cried. I didn't want to go. That always stuck with me and I never liked to see children teased. One time Charlie, one of the foster sons, put live coals on a terrapin's back and it crawled under the bed and set the carpet on fire. Grace and I and the Arrington cousins and other children built playhouses on the creek and on top of sheds. We had funerals for cats and birds. One of our Saturday jobs was shining the brass hoops on the water bucket. I woke to the sound of the coffee grinder. Aunt Susan often made bread for the church communion. She would roll it thin and cut it in small squares. Grace and I wondered why it wasn't like biscuits. Those were the happiest years of my young life that I remember. Aunt Susan was a wonderful person. I remember her sitting quietly on the porch or by the fire and always I have a mental picture of an open Bible on her lap. Always there was an evening prayer and at mealtime a prayer of thanks. On January 4, 1904, Aunt Susan died, and was buried beside Mamma in the Woodville cemetery. In the early 1940's, when the Denison Dam was built, the cemetery was moved to higher ground. Aunt Donia had moved from Jonesboro to Beggs in November 1903. They got word to her that Aunt Susan had died and she came to the funeral. It had been 13 years since she had seen Aunt Susan and Uncle Billy. She wanted Uncle Billy to let her take me home with her. He asked her to let me stay with them a little while. Three weeks later they put me on the train early in the morning. I remember that it was raining and Charley carried me to the depot. I stayed at Beggs three weeks, then they sent me to Jonesboro to Aunt Sally's. For the next seven years I was nothing but a slave. Finally, a few weeks after my eighteenth birthday I walked away from that farm. Went down the lane and worked for some folks keeping house for $1 a week. Later I got another job keeping house for $2.50 a week. I saved up enough money to go up to Dalton, Arkansas, to visit some of Papa's family. In January of 1913, when she was almost twenty years old, Ivy returned to the country that she had so loved as a child. It was no longer the Chickasaw Nation, but was now known as Marshall County, in the new State of Oklahoma. She married Russ Thompson and they raised their family of nine children at Kingston.