Ky Terrell

Ky and Clyde Terrell, circa early 1950's

I recently saw a FaceBook post referring to the son of my friend Barbara Nichols. We called her Bobbie, a college friend who got her degree in nursing at the same time I did. She married, as I did, before we graduated. But she was pregnant during our senior year with their first child, a son they decided to name after my own matrnal grandfather. She heard me talk about Papa Terrell's name, shortened for understandable reasons. I believe he was named for my great grandmother's father, Hezekiah Wilson. It is easy to think how a tiny baby boy born in 1885 and named Hezekiah Peyton Terrell would come to be called "Ky" for the rest of his life!  When I noticed the post about Ky Nichols, I thought of my grandfather as I often do and realized I have never written a post that was just about him. I loved him dearly and knew that feeling was mutual.

My mother often told stories of how proud he was when I was born, his first grandchild. The earliest stories included ones of his getting down on the floor and letting me ride him like a horse even though he had been "laid up" with a bad back before we came. He was toothless and loved the angel food cake and divinity without nuts Grandma made for him. He was an avid baseball fan, leaning over his small radio to listen to the games.I remember his laugh, hearty and loud, and his cheerful spirit in spite of heartbreak and hardships like loosing his oldest son at age 13 to a hunting accident, making do during the depression, failing health including a stroke, and suffering along with his other sons during mental health crises. He was a farmer and at one time owned a small general store with his son Travis. My memory does not include his owning a car. He thumbed a ride at the bottom of the hill they lived on near Bullard to go to town for Grandma's small list of supplies. 

When he died in 1965, Joe and I were in Oregon. Before computers and cell phones, a long distance call in which Mother told me caused me to weep for not being able to say goodbye to him, for not being there for my grandmother and mother, and for knowing I could not make it to the funeral. We were preparing to move back to Texas within a week. Plane tickets were too expensive to consider. The trip from Corvallis, Oregon to Texas would take days. When we did get there, I remember Mother and Grandma were in the kitchen of the house where I grew up on Sunset Avenue in Jacksonville. And I remember that as I embraced my grandmother and sobbed, she was the one who comforted me.

My Part Time Job

During my senior year in high school (1957-1958), I worked after school for R.C. Buckner, the mayor of our town at his home, primarily taking some dictation and typing correspondence for him. This work had nothing to do with his being mayor or his many civic responsibilities.  (As this article mentions, he even ran for mayor in order to further his interest in the location and building of Lake Jacksonville, which was completed just prior to my graduation from high school.) 

Another of his interests was in developing a herd of Red Angus cattle and the letters I typed were part of that interest. At that time Red Angus cattle were not common as we find today. I had no idea that someday I would live in a Texas county where it is not uncommon to see herds of these beautiful animals. Not long ago, a group of us visited a nearby historical home for a tour and I was not surprised to see a large herd of them.

Mr. Buckner  was a kind employer and encouraged me in many ways, among them my interest in going to college. He helped me to apply for a work study scholarship to Sam Houston State which I received. Although I eventually chose to attend another college, that experience was part of launching me to further education and I am grateful to him. 

Quoted from the Jacksonville Daily Progress article:

"Summer fun in Jacksonville for many includes a day at Buckner Park; boating or skiing passed Buckner Dam at Lake Jacksonville; or attending end of school activities in Buckner Chapel at Jacksonville College.

Who is this man whose name is linked to the city of Jacksonville and its past?

Born 1895 on the family ranch, located on Hwy 84 between Reklaw and Mt. Enterprise; R.C. Buckner would attend college at Stephen F. Austin and teach school for a short period of time. In my interviews with locals he’s described as a moral man—a visionary who stood his ground and wasn’t afraid to take a chance.

Buckner owned a construction company and was a member of the Jacksonville City Council when Mayor Tom Acker decided to build Lake Jacksonville in the 1950s... 

...R.C. Buckner loved the family ranch and expanded it to 1,050 acres from the initial 500 his father had and from acres he purchased from other family members.

In 1954, Buckner became interested in Red Angus cattle when he heard of a small group of people meeting in Ft. Worth to organize the Red Angus Association of America. Two Black Angus would occasionally have a red offspring. Purists in the cattle business would dispose of, or simply give away these red calves. Soon R.C. let it be known he wanted them; built up his herd and in 1966-68 served as president of the national association.

Crockett explained that for many years, R. C. had an annual Red Angus production sale in May or June. A huge tent was erected at the ranch; bleachers were made of square hay bales. There were always two auctioneers, dressed in tuxedos. “It was quite an affair … was catered too … ”

Crockett continued, “One year in Dallas, Mr. Buckner had the Grand Champion bull; a doctor from Georgia purchased it for a hefty sum. Because the ranch foreman was ill, my wife and I drove to Georgia and delivered the bull ... ”

Buckner’s herd became well known throughout the country. In September 1969, he had a dispersion sale. Two men from west of the Rockies, drove across country in a two-ton truck to watch Buckner sell 750 head. They ended up filling their truck with 20 Red Angus and would become leaders in the association.

It is evident; the full story of R. C. Buckner is too big to tell here.

http://www.jacksonvilleprogress.com/news/a-lake-s-legacy---r-c-buckner-visionary/article_5db94422-5de6-11e7-88c4-47b104451a91.html

Post Card from the Past: Liberty Hotel, Jacksonville, TX

This grand old building was the Liberty Hotel, in Jacksonville, Texas. I have in the years since, stayed in many fine hotels all over the world, but this is the first hotel I remember. It is part of the memory pictures of my childhood, not for the occasions I attended there (although I did go to a tea there my senior year in HS where I wore a suit and wide-brimmed hat!) but because my family ran a diner style cafe in the building across the alley. That building contained the bus station and the Bus Station Cafe, owned and operated by my parents, Howard and Opal Teal. Daddy had a reputation for being a great cook, and I understand people still talk about his chicken fried steak and hot rolls.  My first "job" was there when I was 12 years old! I loved greeting customers like Daddy did and taking their orders. 

It burned in 1973.The bell from the hotel is currently on display at the Vanishing Texana Museum. The Holcomb Candy Company was nearby. We used to go by there when we came home for visits so we could buy sacks of broken peanut patties and peanut brittle! 

Palace Theater

Recently in a Facebook post that features remembering people and places from my Jacksonville, Texas hometown, an undated photo caught my attention. The thread of comments that followed the picture indicated that many people older as well as those younger than me did remember going to "the show" at the Palace. When I was a teenager in the 1950's,  my parents still owned a small cafe and allowed the Palace managers to post small announcements about the current movie. In exchange, the cafe was given a few passes that allowed entrance for 5 cents!  Of course if we had passes and if I had a date, the benefit was passed on to my date. I can't remember the price of popcorn or a Dr. Pepper or chocolate covered peanuts, but I know that even if we indulged in all three, along with the 5 cent entrance passes, that was a tiny fraction of the cost of going to movies today.  We don't go often, but recently Joe and I took our 12 year old granddaughter to see Inside Out. We shared popcorn and soft drinks. And spent well almost $50!

The Palace did not have multiple screens or seats that rocked. The concession stand had a person who handed out the popcorn along with a friendly exchange although it lacked automated multiple choice drink machines, nachos,  and self serve gourmet popcorn bars with pump your own butter. But  I firmly believe we got more than our money's worth when we went to the show.

I think of Old Yeller, HIgh Noon, Bridge on the River Kwai, Roman Holiday  African Queen, Giant, A Place in the Sun, Sabrina, and of course, Harvey plus all the Alfred Hitchcock thrillers!

I still hum tunes from The King and I, An American in Paris, Singing in the Rain, and Showboat! My younger granddaughters may have the tunes to Frozen memorized, but I am wondering how many films today will be considered memorable over 50 years from now. We do have many more choices for films and for amenities.We do pay for that.  For now, I am happy to have memories of nights out at the Palace, and will leave the ratings to the critics.

Ready to "Let it Go!"