EAST TEXAS FAMILY RECORDS                            VOL. 13, NO.1, SPRING 1989

RUSK COUNTY - "The Folks Back Home"
by Richard James Findley, Jr.

     We are grateful to Mrs. Richard Findley, Jr. for allowing ETFR to use this 
material from his diary-manuscript - "LISTEN TO THE ECHOES".

                                     S. H. SWANNER
Swanner came to the old Texas & Gulf Railway (now the Santa Fe) as a conductor in 
1907, retiring in 1933, spending his remaining years in Florida. He was a very large 
man with a booming voice, and possessed a ready wit, and a flair for the dramatic. 
Ever ready to add to the fame of this frontier town which had long since gained the 
reputation as a "Hell Raiser", that would do credit to towns located further West. He 
would, on occasions, when approaching Tatum, call out in a loud voice, "Next stop is 
Tatum, prepare to meet your God". He, however, met his waterloo at the hands of a 
"Drummer", who, on learning a local hotel owner had lost his watch while meeting the 
train to solicit guests for his hostelry, told this man he had seen Swanner pick it up 
while his train was standing at the station. A stormy scene ensued the next time 
Swanner came through, which took the best efforts of the joker to straighten out to 
the satisfaction of all concerned.
                                      LITTLE MOOT
"Little Moot" a young negro lad, a servant in the home of Dr. Menefee, was nearly 
white. He was a great favorite with the white boys, who took him with them on trips to 
nearby towns to play baseball and basketball, frequently using him in an emergency, 
palming him off as a Spaniard. On a trip to Carthage to play basketball, Moot, as 
usual went along, and when we lined up in the old "Two Brothers Restaurant" for a 
meal, he was asked how he liked his eggs. He gravely replied, "I like mine cooked. "
                                 UNCLE JOHN L. WILLIAMS
John L. Williams, while not a native of Tatum, residing in the Harris Chapel Community 
several miles East of the city, was nevertheless considered by most old timers as a 
senior citizen. In 1900 at the Primitive Baptist Church at Harris Chapel, Tatum began 
celebrating his birthday. This became an annual affair, and was usually held under 
trees near the church building. May 14th, was the date and friends and relatives came 
from far and near. Mr. Williams was born in Georgia, his forebears coming to America 
from Dublin, Ireland. The date of his birth was 1825, and he was married in Tennessee 
and came to Harrison County in 1870, and to Panola County in 1876, settling in Harris 
Chapel. He had many descendents, many of whom live in that community, while others are 
living in wide- ly scattered parts of the state. A. C. Williams of Beckville, is a 
grandson.
                                 THE BALL TEAM OF 1913
Tatum had a baseball team in 1913, second to none in surrounding towns. In 52 games 
played, only three were lost. The played Longview, Marshall, Shreveport, Chalk Hill, 
Millville, Elysian Fields, Carthage, Beckville, Woods Post Office and other towns. The 
team, in the main, consisted of local boys, one of the exceptions being a man named 
McLain, a salesman for the Galveston Dry Goods Company, who made the territory 
regularly.
                                       BOOGER RED
Booger Red, rodeo performer extraordinary, and having the reputation of being the 
ugliest man in America, while not a Tatumite, nevertheless it was on a trip to Tatum 
that his reputation suffered the only set back of his career. Booger was known 
whereever rodeos were held. Before arriving for this visit, it was said he had never 
been thrown. A local horse threw him, inflicting painful bruises. The author recently 
read in a National Sports magazine that Red went through his entire career without 
being thrown. The writer knows better for he witnessed the incident.
                                        SID NERO
Sid Nero, a young negro, whose family lived a short distance from Tatum on the old 
Harmony Hill road, was a great favorite with the white boys. One day while we were 
playing a "choose up" game on a lot near Welch's pond, the score was tight and one 
side needed a pinch hitter. Nero begged to be sent in and was allowed to do so. 
Unfortunately, we had but one baseball. Nero took two fast strikes down the middle, 
and on the next pitch hit a prodigious home-run, winning the game, but alas, the ball 
he hit landed in the middle of the pond. The game being over regardless of the score.

                                  IT HAPPENED IN TATUM
     A newcomer in town after an exceedingly dry spell asked an old timer, if he 
thought it would ever rain again, to which he replied laconically, "I reckon so, it 
always has".

     A noted evangelist came to town and while waiting on the depot platform for 
someone to meet him, was accosted by a drunk who leeringly asked, "Where in hell have 
I seen you before"? The preacher, possessed of a ready wit, replied, "I can't say off 
hand, what part of hell are you from"?

     A pious man made an offer to the men of the Methodist church to provide the fish 
for a fellowship dinner. Too late, he realized that time was running out, and if the 
promised fish was forthcoming someone was going to have to fish on Sunday. His sons, 
with the exception on one, was as pious as their father, which meant no Sunday 
fishing. "What will we do, Pa"?, he was asked. The old man pondered the question for 
some time and replied, "We'll let old Lum do the fishing, he's going to hell anyway".

     A doctor in a nearby town, who was a fair drinker, in those days when men were 
men and a woman couldn't be governor, attended a revival meeting being held under a 
brush arbor. When the invitation was given, he staggered down the sawdust trail and 
presented himself for membership. The preacher, perceiving his condition, said, "Sir, 
we cannot accept you in our Communion". "And, why not", the drunk asked. "Well, you 
are in a state of intoxication" he was told.
     Squaring himself around where he faced the congregation he said, "Well, this is 
the first damn church that has all the members they want".

     A visiting preacher was staying in the home of a good brother who could not 
tolerate smoking in anyone, especially a minister. Now, this preacher like his pipe, 
but could find no place from the prying eyes of his host. One evening he took a stroll 
down through a wooded section and sitting down behind a giant oak, and feeling secure 
of detection, got the thing going. The host, suspicioning what was going on had 
followed him and when he had the pipe going good, he stepped around the tree and said, 
"Well, I see you are burning incense to the devil". The preacher, somewhat abashed 
replied, "Yes, but I didn't expect him to show up so soon".

     The old time medicine show came to town one fall after an unusually good farming 
season. Money was plentiful, and "Dr." Lightfall, representing The Great East Indian 
Medicine Company, moved in for the "kill". A stage in the open air was erected, and 
lights were strung. The show featured Blackface acts and plays of the melodramatic 
type, and such doleful ballads rendered as "She is more to be pitied than censured", 
"The baggage coach ahead", and "Only a bird in a gilded cage". His wonderful tonic, 
which he claimed was good for all external, internal and infernal pains, was offered 
to the public for the amazingly low price of One dollar ($1.00) per bottle. He stayed 
two weeks and the "take" was good. Lightfall was a large man with all the showmanship 
of a carnival barker, and sported a large diamond whose genuiness was sometimes 
questioned, began his "Pitch" by telling his audience how this remarkable medicine 
came into his possession. He said he received it from a dying native of India, while 
touring that continent. He extolled this ware in such glowing terms and convincing 
manner, that when his assistants, who doubled as actors, passed through the crowd 
peddling the stuff, the local gentry literally snatched it from their hands.
     Doctor Lightfall has long been gathered to his fathers. The medicine show no 
longer comes to town to entertain and to fleece the people.

                                    DOWN MEMORY LANE
     No longer does the stamping boots of bristling Matt Oden clatter down the wooden 
sidewalks; the forays of the boys from across the creek who stormed into town, 
shooting off their guns just for the "hell" of it, have ceased. The tall and stately 
Walter McNaughton, as he daily crossed the street to Bowen's barber shop for his 
shave. The uproarious John Holtzclaw, as he regales the "gang" at the Post Office 
while the mail was being "put" up. Timid, mouse-like, "Popcorn" Freeman, the Isaac 
Walton of his day. George Jackson, riding through town on old "Salty". Billie 
Williamson, in cowboy regalia, on prancing "Bonaparts", "Jack Spratt", and "Tom 
Thumb", the wildest livery stable team in existance. Mr. Rich, the gentle Jew, 
representing Carlton Dry Goods Company, of St. Louis, reposing contintedly on the 
porch of the Crawford Hotel. "Uncle" Craig Bowen, with his half running walk, on his 
way for work in Josh Pruitt ' s store. Uncle "Fox" Tatum, and Jack Isaacs, with Old 
Duke, hitched to a sled coming downtown for feed. The bearded Sipes brothers in town 
from the Sand Hills. The Morton brothers in from the "Lower Country". Jim Watt, with 
his ever present cigar which was never lit. Mrs. Holtzclaw, holding forth on the porch 
of their store. Mrs. Liza Dorsett, in her wheel chair on her vine-covered porch while 
"Uncle Bill" pottered in the garden nearby. Jim Allen's tie train set out on a siding 
near the depot, and the grand negro quartet singing in the evening after the day's 
work was done. Harvey Crawford meeting the evening train for "Drummers", as guest for 
his hotel. Amos Williams gathering the boys in his wagon, for a swim in Helvenston 
pond. Angus Miller roaring in from Harmony Hill, in a new car which eventually ended 
up in Jule Deckard's blacksmith shop for repairs. Miller Adams, setting up a new cafe 
with crippled Newt Matthews as the chief cook.
     Tom Williams, starting out on his rural mail route trip. Mr. Sweeny, the 
carpenter. Tall Pink Suggs with the ubiquitous derby. Sam Findley, the sage of the 
town, on his way to the cotton yard. T. M. Kinsey seeking advertizements and 
subscriptions for the "Tatum Progress". Venerable Brother Fears in town for his 
regular appointment at the Christian church. Quick and nervous Hurry DeGuerin, behind 
the cage in the bank. "Big" Allen, business engaged in the lumber and gin business. 
John Fort and his handle-bar mustache. Jerry Williamson, with greasy overalls slowly 
winding his way home after a hard day as fireman at the Parish sawmill. John Joseph, 
the Syrain peddler, starting out in his buggy with his bale or merchandise strapped to 
the back for a tour of surrounding communities. The peal of the anvil in Turlington's 
blacksmith shop. Barefoot "Bill" Kirkley dog trotting to town on an errand for his 
master. Tall and leathery J. H. Isaacs straight as an Indian, who at 70 scorned the 
use of glasses, was a crack-shot and always went to bed with a large chew of tobacco 
in his mouth. Aunt "Mag" Bowen, praying long, loud and fervently in revival meetins. 
Heber Kinard, who was al- ways the leader of his class. The author, shining shoes in 
Bowen's barber shop while selling papers on the side. Jeff Deckard moving stealthily 
along the streets in the evening dusk with his sack of bootleg whiskey. Limping Clyde 
Edwards, ever busy hatching up deviltry to perpetrate on the Parish boys. Henry 
"Alphabetical" Wilson from Chalk Hill, whose laughter could be heard from one end of 
the business scetion to the other. B. B. Crim, Baptist preacher, fighting duels with 
the devil, in a brush arbor near the Methodist church. Gil Cherry, the smoothest 
waltzer of them all. Welch pond frozen over with the entire school skating on it. Bow-
legged "Sally" Reynolds booted and spurred. "Weary" Willie Watkins, whose gang 
repaired the railroad bridges.

                                        EPILOGUE
                                    TATUM DOES TALK
     Tatum has undergon many changes over the years, the business section has moved 
from downtown near the railroad track to a location centered around the intersection 
of Stonewall and Johnson streets, or the intersection of the Marshall-Henderson and 
Longview-Carthage highways.
     Many new homes have been built and the school system is one of the best. The 
people are religious as evidenced by several churches. The town is incorporated, with 
deep well water supply. Mrs. Holtzclaw was the first Mayor. Oil was discovered several 
years ago with a few in the townsite.
     Yes, Tatum does talk! She talks with her Civic pride, her beautiful homes, her 
progressive spirit. She talks loudly and will continue to talk until Tatum gains and 
maintains her rightful place in the sun.
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