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The Judson Family - Christmas, 1919
 

JudsonFarmPhoto1919.jpg

This was the first sunny, warm Christmas Day in Colorado anyone around there could remember--with no snow at all. The picture was taken out back of the four-room house. Papa, with his favorite cap and pipe, holding Topsy, our Airdale, who was trying to wiggle away; Mama, in her dustcap and housedress; three-year-old Ethel holding her doll, sitting on a small chair (possibly one Uncle George Eiber had made me for Christmas 1917, along with a little table and a second chair--painted silvery gray); me, Florence, seven years old (with a hole in her stocking) holding six-months-old Helen; Bud, five years old, holding our little black and tan dog, Jackie.

Who took the picture? Could have been one of the Horeys or maybe Uncle George--he was good at photography and loved to take family pictures. Our home was called the Horey Place, since it was owned by the Horey family, who owned a rather large farm a few miles away. In addition to the small house there was a barn with stancheons to milk cows and a hay barn with stalls, below the hay loft, for horses (in winter) and farm equipment.

The house--in the kitchen there was a wood-burning stove (for cooking and heating), a table, chairs and wooden kitchen cabinet (brought with us). There was a long bedroom off the kitchen. Bud and I slept in a 3/4 size bed nearest the kitchen; next was Ethel's crib and then Mama's and Papa's bed with Helen's cradle beside it.

In the summer we used the dining room--Mama's piano was in there. She loved to play her piano and would do so any time she had any free time. She would also sing along. At that time Mama had a beautiful voice and could reach the high notes. I remember Aunt Alice Jones (who was also talented) saying Mama had a beautiful voice. A few years later, she lost it when she was quite ill. Some of the songs I remember and loved were:

Over There (World War I song)

Strike Up the Band

I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles

Tipperary

Yankee Doodle Dandy

The Little Brown Church in the Valley

The Old Rugged Cross

The front room held Papa's green Morris chair, the library table and the davenport. In the winter the two front rooms were closed off to conserve heat.

There was a creek running past the ranch to the south of the boundary of the pasture which crossed the road further west of the ranch heading to the school--there was a bridge there. There was considerable quicksand in this creek. It was said at one time a man with a plow and team of horses was sucked down at a crossing.

Papa had three horses--Old Bill, Old Beaut (a fleabitten gray) and Jumbo--big, slow-moving and safe for kids. Papa let me ride Old Beaut, who could smell quicksand, and no one could force her to cross where it wasn't safe. I know--I tried to make her do it. Papa bought several milk cows: Rosie (his favorite pet), Old Bob (had only a stub for a tail), Pet (a heifer), and three he named after our three aunts--Lil, Ethel, and Marie, all black and white holsteins and Brownie, a gentle, soft brown young heifer.

Then he bought a young bull, named him Jimmy, and the fun began. Papa put Jimmy in the hay barn, which had a high barbed wire fence surrounding the barnyard around the barn. The following morning, Papa found two wide boards butted out of the side of the barn, and Jimmy was gone. Our telephone rang--two longs and a short--a neighbor farmer: "Your bull is in my cornfield!" By the time Papa got there, Jimmy was already on another neighbor's alfalfa field, and so it went for several hours before Papa caught up with him and brought him home. He built the fence higher and repaired the barn.

The next morning Jimmy was gone again, and again our neighbors called and Papa chased him from one farmer's field to another, brought him home, tied him to a stake in the ground, which he pulled up and dragged away with him. So Papa put a big ring in Jimmy's nose, and fastened him to a six-foot-long pole. Eventually Jimmy figured out how to handle that, too, so Papa took him to Bert Packard's big ranch and put him in one of the high log corrals used during branding and dipping, and finally sold him.

In the early summer of 1920 we moved to Kiowa. Mama and the kids moved in with Mrs. Anderson and her two girls (Ethel, my age, and a little one), and two boys, who had been our neighbors and friends when we lived on Newport Avenue in Denver. We stayed there while Papa and Mr. Anderson drove the cows (riding Old Beaut and Old Bill) the sixty miles to Tar's Place, a short distance west of the tiny town of Kiowa. Mama had a moving van pick up our furniture and belongings. Mrs. Anderson drove us (two women and eight children) in her big touring car to Kiowa. Our belongings didn't arrive til the next day, so we had to stay at the one small hotel that night.

--Florence Schoening, September 26, 1992