Tag Archives: The Great Depression

Western Oklahoma Girl: The Early Life of Drucilla Martin – EPOTM, Grove, OK

Introduction

89 year-old Drucilla “Dru” Martin is almost completely blind. But the life she witnessed prior to her dimming view was, in many ways, quite extraordinary.

We met Dru during our last stop in far NE Oklahoma.  With more energy than most of our discussants, she told stories for well over 1.5 hours, stopping only because we had to return home.  Dru’s memories are clear – her recall dating back to early childhood.

In some ways, I’m sorry we couldn’t have purchased three more memory cards and stayed until sunset.  Her personality, as you will hear, is true grit.  Like so many during the Great Depression, many of her narratives were supported by a rationale that she endured challenges because she, in fact no one during that time, had a choice.

Produced in “bite sized” stories averaging 3-6 minutes long, the sound files below can be downloaded into your podcast app.  I would like to thank our team for documenting this conversation in fairly close quarters with low lighting, and Dru for working diligently to share her life so that others might learn about early Western Oklahoma history through her perspectives.

Finally, I want to add that it was personally difficult to hear descriptions of her younger brother as “wimpy.”  However, it’s clear from her stories that having been put in the role of his protector during some extremely harsh bullying episodes at school, she would have strong feelings.

~ Kelly Roberts, Director, Every Point on the Map

Photographs by Rachel J Apple; Audio by April Kirby

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Drucilla Martin was experiencing pain the day we visited her in an assisted living center located in Grove, Oklahoma.  This first story tells about how she had recently fallen on her “rumpy bump.”

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Many Oklahomans lived in “oil lease housing” during high production days. Children were sickened, perhaps, due to water problems in the drilling areas. And, evidently, the houses were equipped with open face stoves.

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The paradox of parenting a young cowgirl is illustrated in this story of equestrian triumph.

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The Great Depression is documented in many ways.  However, to my knowledge, I’ve never heard of a “hobo code” – one way wandering homeless communicated during the time.

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Oklahomans understand tornadoes and floods are part of our geospatial landscape. But without modern communication systems, more died. In this segment, young Dru grapples with how to describe weather events to her family.

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It’s clear by this next series that Dru’s father was a giving person. And, there were both positive and negative consequences of his generosity.

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“Digging in and completing extreme task”s as part of Dru’s identity and personality come through with clarity in the following stories.

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As mentioned in the introductory message above, Dru’s brother endured some extreme bullying at school.  And, as his sister, Dru endured some very trying times as well.

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While Dru spent much more time with us than is conveyed in these sound clips, I’ve elected to share the more historically framed illustrations.  I do hope you leave this post with some semblance of awe, as we did, about the “life and times” of Drucilla Miller.

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Editor’s note:  Dru’s story about the brick reminded me immediately of a gripping saga once told by Native American storyteller, Tim Tingle.  If you ever have a chance to hear him perform, and he tells the story of his grandmother and “Salty Pie,” you’ll understand why I’m beginning to dislike bricks as weapons.  He also published a book by the same name, and I’m assuming it’s the full story in written form.

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One Voice of the Oklahoma Prairie, Cont.

The first building raised in Waukomis. The Railroad section chief lived and worked out of it in 1889.

Editor’s Note: This series began on Monday of last week.  It most likely will run for five weeks.  Please refer to this link for the introductory information and “Entry One” of “My Grandmother’s Memoirs.”  Thank you. ~ RDK

“One Spring I was at a widow woman’s house picking up apricots. She was in the tree and hung a bucket on a limb. It broke and the bucket of apricots fell on my head. Did I ever have a big gash! She told me to run home to my mama. By the time I got there my clothes were soaked with blood. I remember all the children of the neighborhood lining up across the screened-in back porch watching Mom clean me up. I had to go to the doctor at Enid for him to dress and care for it every other day.

I had the small pox vaccination at Waukomis by a Dr. Wolfe. I always imagined he looked like a wolf, but he was pretty nice. He gave me a stick of gum and a penny because I didn’t cry.

I had chicken pox in the Spring of 1930; it was near Easter.  Our class at school was having an egg hunt, so Papa took me to the principal’s office to see if I was over them enough to go to the event. I was so happy because he said I could go!

One winter we had a big snow. Papa walked ahead of us to school to make tracks so we wouldn’t have as difficult a time getting to school.  We were always thrilled when the weather was bad and didn’t have to go home for lunch! Mom would call the grocery store and the owner would prepare a good lunch for us. One of us would go pick it up; he would make pressed ham sandwiches with buns – that was really good!

We children of the neighborhood would gather in the evening by the street light, choose sides and play a game called “Trail.” One side would hide, the other hunt. We would make arrows with chalk marking the direction we were going. Then at the point we decided to hide, we would draw a circle with arrows going all directions making it more difficult to find us.

Another time I remember was my sister Catherine and brother Charles and I went to a Methodist revival. When coming home we had to go past an opera house. We were told a little man lived under it; we were always frightened to go by. We watched the building closely!  As we were walking along Catherine slipped on the ice and I fell over her, breaking my collar bone. I was crying so loudly Catherine said, “Be quiet! That little man will hear you!”  My parents were at the door to meet us when we got there. It was so painful and difficult to wear a coat that I missed several days of school after that incident.

Continue reading One Voice of the Oklahoma Prairie, Cont.