My Dad was born in Flippin and we lived there when I was about 14 years old. And for a short time later as well. I was born Jan 6, 1931

When we went there to live first, dad found an old Indian who was living in a log house. It was large enough to be 4 rooms, but he had only finished half of it and it was quite old at that time. My bed room was in the "unchinked" half of the house. But I had those wonderful goose down mattress, quilt, and pillow, ummm

The old man claimed to descend from escapees on the Trail of Tears, and we never doubted him. He certainly appeared to be full blooded Indian. And he had a small terrier dog. When we bought the place, he supposedly moved to Tahlequah, or Lincoln Co, OK

We had 20 acres of pasture, mostly. The house was built on a small rise and there was a good spring below it for water. A one holer outside and a storm cellar underground just outside the door. We also inherited the flock of mixed breed chickens. One of which was quite old, but she laid an egg every day in that cellar, and no other hen was allowed in there

If you get your atlas out and go to Marion County, look for Rea Valley, then go north and a little east across Crooked Creek, and half way to Cotter and Gassville, in the woods, is where we lived. It was about a mile to the nearest county road, which ran from Rea Valley to Cotter and Flippin

 A fine gentleman had some positive influence on my life there. "Shorty" Seawright often worked for dad, and it was usually my place to help him at what ever he was hired to do. He mentored me quite wisely and taught me a lot of things that affected my life

Another influence on my life there was a wonderful lady, almost completely blind, who had tutored my dad. She taught me the basics of playing the piano. Don Ott helped me recall her name, as "Aunt" Donna, or Dawn. I loved her dearly, as did dad. She always had a cookie or two for a snack. ummm.

I dearly loved my reasonably short stay there. And we had another stay there later in my life, about 1947, one summer, just off the road from Flippin, north to White River ferry crossing

We found a deserted cabin there, one room and built on kitchen, with out-house. We got permission to stay there for the summer from the owners. My dear sweet grandmother, Ruby (Griffin) McDonald spent the summer there with us. It was right after the war and dad hadn't done too well at taking care of all the money he had made as a carpenter during WW II building army bases. So we had to pretty much live off the land and what work we could find. My spending money came from working in the sale barn every Saturday, moving stock in and out of the sale arena, etc. Dad was a verygood carpenter and had no problem finding "handy man" work

It was also my job to supply the family meat for our daily meals as we had no electricity for refrigerator, nor could we afford ice. I had an old Stevens breach load single shot .22 caliber rifle, which I wish I had today!

Also had fishing in White River which I loved naturally as all my family loved to fish and mostly were raised near that river for three generations on dads' side

My dear sweet grandmother, a dear lady, just short of 5 feet tall, really loved being there with us too. We played pitch every day and I was her partner. She was a Griffin, Ruby.

Her dad was Jenks Neal, (my middle name) Griffin. "Daddy" Griffin had a general mercantile store across the road from "Uncle" Joe McCracken's store, during the "great depression" and he never turned a man away.He sold the first automobile that was sold in Marion County. A Model T Ford. The story is that the farmer he sold it to got the instructions from my grandfather, and took off home. Pretty soon he came walking back, looking pretty upset, and hollering, "You never told me how to make the (darned) thing whoa!" He had ran right into a tree at the turn off to his home

Jenks was married to Arra Belle Berry, I need not tell you about them as we all know their fine reputation. So being kin to the above makes me pretty well kin to everybody in Marion County <g>

The McDonalds were from Gainesville, Ozark Co, MO. My grandpa had 5 brothers, so I am kin to the whole county there too. He also had a business in Flippin, buying cotton during WW I, and selling it to the Army. Of course, that dried up too at the end of the war

I would be remiss if I failed to mention going to the one room school there, just behind and north of McCracken's store. I believe it went from grade one to grade six or eight. I do recall the big pot belly wood stove off center there that had a nail keg next to it full of peach tree switches. The teacher was a pretty well aged man with grey hair, and he did a good job of teaching us the basics. Of course, he had a frustration with the older boys. There was a small tree at the corner of the school ground where they would go to smoke during recess. And when he rang the bell for us to get back to school it took them longer to get back which upset him

I had to meet the "school bus" on the road running west into Flippin, about a miles walk for me through the woods. It was a wood paneled 4 seater. The girl I "loved" rode that bus too. Can not recall her name, but her father was either from Austria or Germany. He had a matched team of large horses which he was very proud of

He and my dad harvested grass hay from the islands of White River together. We had one old, free range, mule named Pete. Dad claimed ownership of him by right of feeding him. We were out on an island one day, baling hay with a mule driven bailer. This girl and I could lift a shock of hay onto the wagon and that was no small thing. Dad was the stacker, and was very good at it. We could put quite a load on a wagon.

It started clouding up and we got concerned about getting back up to the road. We had bailed quite a bit, but there was a load of loose hay on the wagon that was pretty overloaded. We harnessed up and managed to put old Pete on in front of the team for a three horse rig. The trail we had to climb to get out had a zig-zag in it to rest the animals, half way up. We made it to there and it was just starting to sprinkle. Now, this was a black dirt, no rocks, trail. A little rain and you could slide all around on it

Dad and the neighbor were talking to the animals as we started up the last climb and the three of us kids were behind the wagon pushing, for what that was worth. Then it happened, one of the horses slipped and fell down, and that caused the other one to fall also

Now, the farmer was talking to the horses in his home language, and dad was talking to old Pete, saying "Hold it Pete, hold it Pete!" And old Pete just stood there, his legs almost at a 45 degree angle and his hoofs sinking into the ground. Us kids had to get out from behind the wagon for safety sake, but we shoved limbs and rocks under the wheels of the wagon and held on to the sides

The horses had messed up their harness and they finally got that fixed and them back up on their feet, while old Pete just stood there with his ears back and shaking off a fly every now and then

Needless to say, dad told the story right away and it rang through the Ozarks like a church bell on Sunday. By Saturday sale day, the whole county knew about it. The old farmer never said a word, but took the horses off far enough that no one knew about the story and sold them, coming home with another fine pair of horses, but no bragging.

I dearly love my memories of those days in that beautiful place. How I would love to go back to one of those nights when the men folk had their hounds out for a "run". To hear them from my open walled bedroom was like some folks going to the opera. So many times, they would come bawling right by our home. Their owners off near by with a fire and a jug saying, "Well, ole Joe is in the lead now, think that might be Bell cutting off to the right."

Well, there come the tears now, so I better stop this

If you haven't been there, I have just sent you a little taste of it. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did

Thank our God for the Ozarks and White River, and the memories of a young boy who loved them dearly.

WA-DO Don, or, thank you