Category Archives: Oklahoma culture

Tall Tales by Pistol Pete: “Studying Bed Bugs”

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An early color photograph of Pistol Pete on his front porch. Photo courtesy of: http://www.eatonhome.org/

https://oregonsurgicalwellness.com/bras-for-cause/ A few “Truthful Pete Says” articles were published in the Perkins Journal around 1950 featuring the tall tales of Pistol Pete Eaton.  We opened this series with his “Toad and Snake” tale, and thought it was about time to grace your literary sense with this masterpiece. Enjoy!

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see While reading the paper the other day I came across an item that said there was a man who had made enough money just studying bugs that he could afford a clean shirt every day and four pairs of socks and could drink most any brand of liquor that he wanted.  I took this paper down to Fred and asked him about it and he said sure was a fact, many men like that made money without working just like fellers working on government jobs and the Triple-A fellers, so he guessed playing with bugs was as useful as many things.  He said it was called Entomology.  I tried to say entomology, but nearly lost my chaw of tobacco and since I was low on money and couldn’t afford another chew I didn’t try and say it again.  But then and there I made up my mind to study bugs.  I took off my shirt and didn’t find nothing new so after thinking a while I started up for Stillwater.

Buy Lorazepam Online Without Prescription I got me a room at a high class joint and decided to take a bath before retiring.  The porter brought in a big tub of hot water, so I jumped in, jumped back out, dried off on my handkerchief, combed my hair, cleaned out the comb and throwd the hair in the wash tub, blew out the candle and put some matches beside it.  I hardly laid down when I felt something crawling around.  I jumped up, lit a match real quick and caught a mess of bed bugs, red handed.  I threw them in the tub and in went the burnt match sticks.  After many bed bug expeditions, I finally dropped off to sleep, but awoke to the sound of beautiful music and song, much like a choir.  Upon investigating, I found the sound came up from the tub, and there all those bed bugs, had formed rafts from the used match sticks, they made hair-strung harps and were sitting floating in the middle of the tub, singing, My Bonnie, and Pull for the Shore Sailor.  Taking my bottle I spilled a few drops in the tub and shortly arose the harmony of Sweet Adeline.

Eszopiclone Buy Online With no further ado I swore off studying bugs for I find they are much like a politician, suckling from the people.

https://lovetheonlything.com/pride-and-humility/ Originally published August 10, 1950

Silent Sunday?: Vroom, Vroom! Images by George Thomas

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1957 Chevy Nomad - photo by George Thomas. All images in this post are copyrighted by the photographer and are not to be used without his express permission.

https://www.sierrarealestate.net/how-to-fix-ceiling-water-stains/ I love it when one photographer mentions another, and they in turn mention another, and so on.  That’s the beauty of Oklahoma.  Talented people, willing to share the love.  That’s how we found our photographer for this week.  George Thomas is a resident of Stillwater and was referred to us by Michael Stano, our featured artist last week.  George spent a good deal of his life right in the heart of the automotive area of the U.S., then came to Oklahoma with that experience to share.  And, to love through his lens…at car shows.  This week, we’ll be featuring photos from his Flickr account taken at the Perkins Car Show in 2010, and the Stillwater Elks Car Show in 2009.  However, he has many more and we encourage you to visit his site to view more of his work.  This particular selection is ONLY cars…but his tastes and shots include a wide range of interests.  Have a great Silent Sunday, and we hope you find yourself behind the mental wheel of some of these absolutely beautiful specimens! Continue reading Silent Sunday?: Vroom, Vroom! Images by George Thomas

Hey, HEY, You, YOU, Get Off of my Tree!

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https://mederahub.com/disclaimer/ There are two behaviors that get under my skin more than most.  The first is the act of someone harming people less able than themselves.  This action could be the result of power differentials in size, age, power, social status, mental capacity, etc.  The second? Those who clearly know the right or better thing to do, but ignore it at the expense of all those around them.  This essay is about both issues and I’m warning you right now: I’m angry.

go site The scene? A beautiful afternoon in Oklahoma:  hardly any wind, a temperature in the high 50s, the air is clear, gray and cool and wherever you look in nature, the onset of Spring is apparent.

enter I had worked most of the night before, and gotten up early this particular morning in order to complete enough of my workload to leave work just a bit early.  I was on a mission, and had racked up enough miles on my keyboard writing reports and grading to feel good about leaving campus.  In fact, my mood was especially fine.   Why?  Because I was getting ready to take short road trip through the Oklahoma countryside and, quite frankly, there aren’t too many more activities that ease my mind as much as these drives.

My destination was a sheep farm south of Tryon, Oklahoma and I was driving south on highway 177, listening to Jesca Hoop.  I could write chapters on Jesca Hoop’s creative take on music, but not today.  The opening lyrics to “Whispering Light” were belting out at a fairly strong decibel level:

“As we walk the road, as far as the road goes…
And we try to dodge the rock the valley throws.
Revealer…caught a fever…we all, have a sink-ing stone..”

Okay.  I’ll write just a few sentences.  The opportunity might not come again.  If you’ve not had a chance to check out her music, I would encourager you who love singer-songwriters to do so.  I think her, “Love is All We Have” she wrote about the Katrina Hurricane got me permanently hooked on her haunting style and voice.  And spirit.  Here is a video of that particular song she’s singing in New Orleans.  You can see she’s clearly verclempt as she sings directly to those about whom she wrote.

I’m sharing this moment in my car with you because it sets up the juxtaposition to what happened next. Continue reading Hey, HEY, You, YOU, Get Off of my Tree!

Barbershop Theology: Relationship before Rules – Part II

Quanah Parker "...is arguably the perfect representative of the good, bad and ugly of the treaties, tribes and tumult of America's westward expansion."

We do not become good so that God will love us.  Rather, it is the love of God that makes us good.

Quanah Parker is arguably the perfect representative of the good, bad and ugly of the treaties, tribes, and tumult of America’s westward expansion. Quanah’s story is remarkable and more particularly, his mother’s story is a plotline in many of great movie westerns. Indeed, hers is a remarkable tale as well.

Growing up in Apache, Oklahoma I had school mates who were direct descendants of the Comanche Indian chief, Quanah Parker. Parker has many descendants. He married seven times, though he never kept more than three at a time. When an Indian Agent told him that he would have to choose only one wife, Quanah replied, “You choose and you tell ‘em.” Continue reading Barbershop Theology: Relationship before Rules – Part II

My Little Victory Garden: Entry Six o’Clock Dinner Secrets

My heirloom black seed lettuce will be ready for its first cutting this week.

I play lots of food games, kitchen games or garden games.  Mostly with myself, but they still entertain me for hours.  One of these activities is a game I like to call, “Beat the Restaurant.”  It involves ordering a dish I really love from a restaurant until I have “cracked the recipe code” in my own home kitchen.  Sometimes this takes a couple of years because we don’t really go out to eat that often, and the chances of Mick agreeing to go to the same restaurant just so I can order a dish I’m trying to deconstruct aren’t very high.  So what I’m about to share with you is special, and it has to do with my little Victory Garden.

My Garden Report for this past week?  Things are definitely coming along.  Spinach is now ready for early picking.  And I did, of course.  I cut about 1.5 cups of the most beautiful little perfectly deep green leaves and thought to myself, “I’m going to share my recipe for Cafe 501’s Spinach, Pear and Blue Cheese Salad!”  Other restaurants serve something similar, but I’ve never had it anywhere except Cafe 501 where they use the perfect dressing.  Yes, it’s perfect (in my head)…for a LOT of things.  I’ll tell you about the “lot of things” after I tell you about the salad, deal?  Here are a couple more photos for my garden report section: Continue reading My Little Victory Garden: Entry Six o’Clock Dinner Secrets

Silent Sunday: The Work of Michael Stano

Route 66 Bridge Over Lake Overholser ~ by Michael Stano (all images in this post are copyrighted exclusively by the featured photographer)

When highlighting Oklahomans for our Silent Sunday series, I’m always amazed at the variety of backgrounds covered by those who are also excellent photographers.  Such is the case with Judge Michael Stano, or…Michael Stano the photographer, of Stillwater.

I like signing into his “Zenfolio” website just to hear the relaxing threads of music accompanying me while searching through his images.  I also like the way his “Photographer” section begins the story of how he was introduced to his first camera.  Here’s an excerpt:

https://thebarefootbeat.com/travel-gear/ A way of seeing….

While in Cub Scouts, which must have been in the mid-50s, I used plans in Boys’ Life to build a pin-hole camera. The camera “body” was a Folger’s one-pound coffee can. The “lens” was a nail hole poked through the can, and the “shutter” was a piece of electrical tape over the hole. The inside of the can was painted black, and there was a sheet film holder made of cardboard. I don’t remember if I actually took any photos with the Folger’s can, but I was obviously interested in photography at an early age. Continue reading Silent Sunday: The Work of Michael Stano

A Shot Seen ‘Round the World: Toy Gun Films – A Discussion With Brent Green

Toy Gun's most recent release, "Paper Flower," is a film about "compensated dating," a social issue with widespread implications in Japan.

follow link This is not a movie scene:

Nine years ago I was sitting in a small office with my boss, next to a young Columbian.  He was interviewing to become our Latino community service coordinator. His white shirt shone against his olive skin, he answered questions passionately and smiled often. He had raised the issue of “family” and mentioned he had many brothers and sisters. Jokingly he was sharing a story about his mother and his father who lived in his home country, and then his sister who lived in Oklahoma. He mentioned his older brother was a role model to him. One of us followed up with a question: “What is it about your brother you admire?”

The smile left his face. An indiscernible emotion took its place, and he began to tell us that his first brother had been “promised to the Church” and had become a priest. One day he was talking with his brother on the street, a gang ran up to him, and shot him point blank in the head. I’ll never forget this young man’s face when he said with his Latin’ accent, “There…you, you could see his brains.”

This young man sitting in our office had witnessed his eldest brother’s murder in cold blood. And then he said, “But it was a mistake. They thought he was someone else in the church.” Continue reading A Shot Seen ‘Round the World: Toy Gun Films – A Discussion With Brent Green

My Cheeks Still Hurt. I Blame Improv.

Curt Coy, Red Dirt Improv troupe member.

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“Curt can guess people’s high school nicknames within ten minutes of meeting them. Curt just got back from Europe, where he spent time training a baby polar bear named Knute. Curt has a great sense of direction and can sometimes be spotted walking magnetic North. Curt believes that it is wrong for you to spank your children, but is willing to do it himself. Upon graduation from OU, Curt was nominated to the Supreme Court, but was unable to make it to the Senate hearings because he couldn’t find any shoes that day. Curt is a friend of Anna and can be found counting ants at the park most days.” ~ Red Dirt Improve Website, Description of Troupe Member, Curt Coy

The weather is trending slightly-weirdly and oh-so-uncertainly warmer in Red Dirt country and since you may be venturing out of your house, we wanted to remind you that the Red Dirt Improv is a viable, if not funky, option.  Joey’s first essay for the RDC was written after she attended her first improv show.  We’re re-posting it this morning in order to give you a little sumthin’-sumthin’ (yes, I was channeling Whitney Houston when I wrote that) for options when selecting where to spend your Oklahoma entertainment dollars.

Ciao ~ Red Dirt Kelly (I don’t know WHAT I was channeling when I wrote “ciao.”  I never say that word. Never ever.)

***

Have you ever laughed so much in one night that your cheeks ache? I went to an improv show Saturday night and my face still hurts a little.

Red Dirt Improv is a local troupe of improv performers and they hosted a festival at Lyric at the Plaza last weekend. Troupes from surrounding areas joined in to compound the weekend funny factor.

Even though I’ve been to tons of open mic nights and stand-up comedy shows, I was a little apprehensive. People were going to be on stage doing… well, they didn’t know what they were going to do.

The idea that maybe this wasn’t going to work out so well occurred to me. Continue reading My Cheeks Still Hurt. I Blame Improv.

In Search of a Name for the “Man-Bun”

Yep, there it is in all its glory. My “Man-Bun” in need of a decent descriptor.

There really aren’t too many of us these days: long-haired freaky looking guys. Especially those of us who aren’t that freaky.  We grow up, get respectable jobs or just loose our follicles.  Society eventually molds us to its will.

Or does it?

A funny thing happened on my way to respectability.  I found out I just wasn’t that corporate.  And I decided that in honor of my brothers who no longer can, if I can grow my hair, I should.

So here I am once again in familiar territory; the end of the dreaded in-between stage where you can’t pull all your hair into a ponytail so most of the time it looks like a mop in a light socket.  “Push through,” I tell myself.  “Wear a hat.”  Oh yes, that doesn’t work either; my hair makes it slide up my head.  “Push through.”

Continue reading In Search of a Name for the “Man-Bun”

My Little Victory Garden: Entry Five-Egg Foraged Omelet

Locavores breathe a sigh of relief during the Spring. Find out what we foraged this weekend, and how we created meals around our treasures.

Today is Sunday afternoon, March 20th, and my family is going foraging.  I have just a few veggies and herbs we can now eat, but it’s certainly not enough.  I know, however, there are more outside so I thought I would take you along with us.  I’ll also take you to Crestview Farms, just down the road from my house, and talk about home-produced eggs.  So…let’s get going!

source url Garden report ~ First things first, here’s how my early garden is growing: onions are now at the early green eating stage, Swiss Chard actually looks like it might do something, and a few sprouts are…oh, maybe one-half inch tall now? Lettuce and spinach are at the “micro-green” stage and if I wanted to get fancy, I’d be cutting.  I’m going to wait, however, because I prefer to eat mouthfuls of those luscious crops.  Broccoli and cauliflower look promising and are now about three times their planting-time size, and so far…no sign of potatoes.  My oregano came back and my asparagus is beginning to make so all-in-all things are looking okay.  I’m still contemplating our extra bed.  Mick and I have finally decided on a size and location.  And now, for the fun stuff!… Continue reading My Little Victory Garden: Entry Five-Egg Foraged Omelet

Silent Sunday: Spring Over Red Dirt Country

Last night the "super moon" provided a big show for millions of people. Here's just one shot from our back yard, taken by Rylee Roberts.

 

Easily 100,000 or more pink tulip bulbs are now up and blooming along Western in the beautiful Chesapeake Energy flower beds...turn onto 63rd Street, head east, and see even more of them!

Continue reading Silent Sunday: Spring Over Red Dirt Country

The Madness is Sports At It’s Finest

The American economy may be slowly recovering, but I promise you there is zero growth taking place right now. Congress might as well go ahead and declare national holidays for the first two days of the NCAA basketball tournament. Don’t act like you actually got anything accomplished at work yesterday. Unless you were waiting tables or bartending, I’m willing to bet you wasted hours of company time glued to a TV while constantly checking and re-checking your pathetic bracket. America’s businesses are coming to a screeching halt and rightly so. The NCAA tournament is the single most captivating sports event we have in this great country.

I love the NFL playoffs, but that’s only a couple games per day at the most. The first and second rounds of March Madness feature four glorious days of 48 games. I can’t even describe how amazing it is to know that I can roll out of bed, flip on some hoops and remain nearly motionless until the sun goes down. I can then repeat that beautiful process for three more days. I’m convinced this is why pizza, beer, and sports bars were invented. I can’t wait for the NHL playoffs, but only a game seven scenario can match the level of drama in the NCAA tournament. A single elimination format where the little guy always has a shot at realizing a dream, upsets reign, and one bad game can send you packing? Brilliance. The Masters is four straight days of unbeatable scenery and shot-making, but there’s no bracket for a golf tournament, no office pool, no opportunity to talk trash to your co-workers. The rest of the globe can have its World Cup; I’ll take these four days of buzzer beaters and last second heroics over 90 minutes of no action, no goals, and fake injuries. And the Olympics? Come on, don’t tell me you really get excited to break down the matchups in ice dancing or call in sick so you can watch equestrian.

We’ve already witnessed what makes the tournament so special… Continue reading The Madness is Sports At It’s Finest

My Little Victory Garden: Entry Four-Ever, I DO

About Thursday at noon last week I realized that even Queens of Multi-tasking have limits.  Actually, I think it was 11:45 a.m. when I stopped and wrote three e-mails.  All of them canceling appointments I had previously set up because “I was going to be running errands around town for my daughter’s wedding and might as well take care of (X).”  I took off my multi-tasking crown and tossed it somewhere into the back of my SUV; it landed alongside three bags of clothes (dry cleaner, gym bag, sack of clothes I had to buy because I forgot my gym bag last week), four boxes of Mason or Kerr canning jars (drinking glasses for the wedding), six wedding presents for my daughter and her fiancee’ I had collected from church and friends over the last week, school books (both teaching and learning) and five crumpled pieces of paper.  If unwadded, lists of 10-15 things “to be done before the wedding” would be revealed on each of the paper balls.  They rolled to and fro on the floor of my car as I drove madly around town, forward when stopping and backward when I took off again.

Five days later, the crown is still resting haphazardly in the back and I’m not quite ready to don it again.  Rather, I’m still thinking about all the seeds planted in my Life Garden last week: memories, new friendships and relationships, a new marriage in our family and, well, more memories.  I’ll talk about those in just a minute.  First I want to honor this post by reporting on my garden.

“My Little Victory Garden” was neglected most of the week.  I took solace in the fact that our neighbor’s sprinkling system was watering my seedlings nightly.  Evidently last summer during a long hot week, Dennis (my neighbor to the west) told Mick that he was watching after my garden by adjusting two of his sprinkler heads to rotate 360 degrees, thus also covering my garden as well as a portion of his yard.  Nine months later, I thanked him in my head for that little gesture by commenting to myself, “Well, at least the garden is getting a little water at night. You rock, Dennis.” Continue reading My Little Victory Garden: Entry Four-Ever, I DO

What Do You See When You Glance at a Police Horse? Perhaps More Than You Think.

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Me and Traveler on "the boxes." This is an obstacle to develop precision in foot placement when crossing obstacles or climbing stairs. (Photo provided by the author, courtesy of the OCSO)

click here by Sam Chesnut

The concept of using horses in law enforcement is as old as law enforcement itself.  But the requirements placed on the law enforcement horse, and the methods used in its training, are constantly changing.  The Sheriff, or Marshal, of bygone days did not have the many different venues that a modern police horse has to deal with.  The law enforcement horse of the 1800’s did not have our traffic, crowds, or complexity of civilization.  And with special circumstances comes the need for special training.

What you see as the modern police horse is the result of many hours of this special training.  Recently Oklahoma County Sheriff John Whetsel and the Oklahoma County Mounted Patrol supervisors conducted a five day school dedicated to the implementation and training of the police horse.  The officers attending came from several different law enforcement agencies including the Oklahoma County Sheriff’s Office (OCSO) and the Oklahoma Highway Patrol (OHP) with other participants traveling from as far away as Indiana.  Through Sheriff Whetsel’s supervision the school has been a great success and has grown in attendance every year.  The school and its instructors are known nationwide.  On many occasions Deputy Randy Garner, OCSO Mounted Patrol Section Leader and chief instructor, has been requested to teach mounted police tactics to units in other areas of the nation.  The following is a brief glimpse of how the training is conducted:

The first matter of business is an extensive warm-up time that allows both the horses and riders to become accustomed to their surroundings and the training aids they will be using.  Police horse training is similar to that of the police K-9 unit development.  All programming is initiated by letting the horse play with a certain object.  Then the “play” is directed toward “mission oriented” tasks.  For example, the beginning of the Crowd Control training is accomplished by using a large (four foot in diameter) inflated “beach ball.”  The horse is directed to push it and soon he is pushing and kicking it around like a child playing with a ball. Continue reading What Do You See When You Glance at a Police Horse? Perhaps More Than You Think.

My Little Victory Garden: Entry Three

Yukon Gold potatoes ~ the debate remains on whether or not you need more than one "eye" per chunk when you plant.

I was talking to my dad on the phone Saturday, sharing with him that I was getting ready to plant potatoes.  He said, “You’re not waiting until St. Patrick’s Day?”  I didn’t even know that was a THING. (Later, I felt slightly better when Mick told me ‘the sign said sometime between February 20th and March 15th.’  Heck, I wasn’t even being risky if we were using the sign’s standard!)

I wonder how many THINGS I don’t know?  I found out another THING while on the phone with him.  He recalled for me that my grandmother Porter (Julie At The Ranch’s great-grandmother as well) used to peel her potatoes fairly thickly, then simply plant the peelings, saving the core to cook for a meal.  Then he, my mother across the room speaking “through” my dad, and I had a third conversation:  How many eyes do you need per chunk of potato planted?  She said two, he said probably just one.  Knowing me, and my inability to identify exactly what constitutes as a bonafide eye, I’ll probably plant three or more.  It’s one thing for roots to be growing forth from the potato, hence easily identifiable makings of a plant.  However, are the little dents with tiny dots in them ALL eyes?  Who knows.  My potato chunks may have four eyes or more due to my lack of experience.

So, earlier that morning, prior to speaking with my dad: I was feeling a little guilty having only purchased three seed potatoes from the feed store.  I looked around a bit more and found a packet of last year’s cucumber seeds for fifty cents.  A discussion ensues…this time with Mick.

Mick: “Don’t you want to buy THIS year’s seeds?”

Me:  “Why?  Don’t you think LAST year’s will grow?”

Mick: “I don’t know.  It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

Me: “Okay, first of all – that’s silly.  Of COURSE they’ll grow.  Secondly, I’m simply trying to find something to add to my potato purchase so the total will be over a dollar.  These are nice people and I’d like to spend more than eighty cents with them!”

Mick (known for always tipping the employees at Sonic more than he should): “Oh, yeah.  Good idea.” Continue reading My Little Victory Garden: Entry Three

Silent Sunday Afternoon Edition: 3/6/11 ~ Jessica Wolloscheck, Senior Portfolio

click Jessica’s words about this series: This album was put together my senior year of college while studying photography.  The inspiration was derived from a box of old family photographs I found. The end result was a series of self-portraits in which I wanted to bring to life the Valium, drug, and alcohol abuse of women during the 60’s and 70’s.

https://lovetheonlything.com/fellowship/ Editor’s note: Next month is Alcohol Awareness Month.  We’re publishing this series now in order to provide a short moment of time to think about whether or not you, your loved ones or someone you know could take advantage of the multiple free screenings or help and resources that will be available beginning April 1st.  Thanks, Red Dirt Kelly

Continue reading Silent Sunday Afternoon Edition: 3/6/11 ~ Jessica Wolloscheck, Senior Portfolio

My Little Victory Garden: Entry Two

One week before a business down the road from our home opened, torrential rains came and took out their entire retaining wall. In three days, however, the mess was cleaned up and crews worked around the clock to rebuild the wall and the structures it had pulled down. Now restored, the first business is OPEN.

The majority of Oklahoma experienced a sustaining drought throughout last fall and on through Winter 2010-11. No rain.  Zero.  When this kind of thing happens in the winter, it’s not quite as noticeable as it is when green things are growing.  However the situation was pretty bad: until just a few days ago fire warnings had been published, all our snow had only amounted to mere tenths of an inch once melted and the winter wheat was really suffering.

Then last week the rain came.  In torrents.  Although our whole state didn’t get moisture, a good deal did and that “good deal” included My Little Victory Garden.  Two days after Mick had plowed up the beautiful soil into a soft loam for planting, the rain came with a vengeance.  My yard still has “wavy grass” reminders, my garden was flooded and the aftermath is a now uneven, cracked plot with sand in it.  Why sand?  The rain was so hard it found a weak, lower area in our neighbors yard and drilled down behind our retaining wall, oozing out the native sandy loam through the cracks.  But that wasn’t the worst damage.  My garden got off easy.

Did you get a big rain? Did your yard look like this once the water subsided?

Continue reading My Little Victory Garden: Entry Two

Deconstructing My “White” Christian Self, Part 3

It’s been February.

Black History month.

For thirty plus years that didn’t mean much to me.

But now with two black children from Ethiopia, I have come to care deeply about this month.

It’s an opportunity for me to lean in and listen to those who have suffered from America’s original sin of racism.

For the last three years during Black History month, I’ve been reading through Bearing the Cross by David Garrow, a Pulitzer award winning bio-epic of Dr. King and the history of the Civil Rights movement.

This book has been like a hammer in terms of deconstructing my “white” Christian self…and theology.

Truth, I’m learning, is largely situated.

All of us absorb like moons the cultures we live in.

There is an inevitable cultural transference.

From those over us like parents and pastors.

To those around us like our peers and pop culture icons.

Not to mention the places we inhabit.

Like our churches and schools and neighborhoods.

Growing up in an evangelical, middle class, suburban culture, for example, I certainly absorbed a particular worldview.  Those who passed it onto me did so with a genuine desire to see me respond to the call of discipleship.

I am so thankful for this.

But having said that, I never had a Dr. King speak into my life early on. Continue reading Deconstructing My “White” Christian Self, Part 3

Silent Sunday: Ghost Towns, Delapidated Properties and Abandoned Structures ~ by James Corbridge

Introduction: Some of you have seen our “Oklahoma Blog” ring badge on the far right lower section of our front page.  I search through the members at times to see what people in Oklahoma are doing.  This was the way I found some photos by James Corbridge that made me reflect, appreciate times past, be sad for communities lost, and wonder what happened to some of them.  Although James’ repertoire is extensive, I’m just publishing a few shots from a particular section of his Flickr account with his permission today.  Thanks, James, for traveling around and bringing the images to us. ~ Editor, Red Dirt Chronicles


Of his time in Picher, OK James wrote: "I licked my lips. I should not have done that. From that point on, the taste in my mouth was like sucking on coins and everything smelled like a piggy bank. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, but my head felt strange. The sun was blazing hot and my hair was soaked in sweat. I forgot all about all of these things when I saw the structures in the distance. Before I knew it, I was running across the toxic mounds of mining waste. I realized that I could not see the car or hear noises from the road. As much as I wanted to inspect the ruins, I stopped running and took a photo where I was. I turned and followed my footprints back. For a moment, I got lost. The footprints were not my own."

Continue reading Silent Sunday: Ghost Towns, Delapidated Properties and Abandoned Structures ~ by James Corbridge

Tall Tales by Pistol Pete: “The Toad and the Snake”

Frank "Pistol Pete" Eaton and his wife Anne Eaton on the eve of his 90th birthday. Notice his cake server?

When I was a little girl, my uncle Jimmy Yates told me that he was having a hard time growing anything in his back yard, so he cut up his garden hose and planted it just to see what would happen.  Much to his surprise, a beautiful tree grew nice and strong and shaded the back yard, but even more surprising was that when it bloomed and harvest time came, he had the nicest crop of licorice whips he ever did see.  He thought he’d try planting rocks next time and see if there wasn’t a good crop of rock candy to harvest this time next year.

Of course, I believe him until the very end of the story, he got rewarded with my grins, and he did his job by keeping a straight face through the entire escapade.

Uncle Jimmy was a life-time Okie and a story teller.  My Uncle Dean was a story teller.  My whole family, on both sides of the tree (as well as my husband’s) were full of real tales, tall tales, jokes and ghost stories.  It’s a family theme for us, but it’s really a family theme for the state.  Okies can tell tales like not too many others around the U.S.

Case in point? Frank “Pistol Pete” Eaton.  There are books written about his life, a few videos that are pretty good summary statements covering portions of his life, and then tall tales about the Tale-maker himself.  However, I thought you might like to read a few for yourself, written by his own hand.  So, every once in a while I’ll put in a few of his “Truthful Pete Says” articles he origianlly wrote for the Perkins Journal newspaper in 1950.

Continue reading Tall Tales by Pistol Pete: “The Toad and the Snake”