Epistles from Pap: Letters from the man known as 'The Will Rogers of Indiana' Part 23

I noticed my girl minced and toyed with the fish, soup and other preliminaries, but attributed that to some feminine quirk. I ate all mine in stride. When the canvas back, caviar and other unknown real delicacies came along it was too late for me. I was full.

On the ball room floor it was a much different story. I was young, lithe and limber--and absolutely sober. A great many of the deluxe elite were too heavy in the hock, too wide in the beam, and far, far too distended in front. One good woman couldn't see her plate and would have to pull her fork from under to see what its tine had speared. The guests graded from mild exhilaration to pretty dam tight. My hostess' son was pretty well left of center. I had sufficient presence of mind to ask my monitor for dances, far more than could reasonably be expected of a woman so old--probably almost pushing 40. . .

By this time you are asking, "Why all this boring life history from an almost utter stranger?" The answer is simple.

I have never seen, much less occupied, an office chair pushing $300. I must get acclimated to it gradually and by easy stages or else find myself in the same uneasy situation as that of a 16- year-old small town boy at his first metropolitan banquet and ball. . .

Respectfully, Durham & Durham, Atty.'s.

By Andrew E. Durham

SOUTH IN A BOX CAR, NORTH IN A CADILLAC

Excerpts from an article written by Pap, in the Putnam County Graphic, June 24, 1954.

Some 35 years ago, a young man born and reared in Putnam County, near Greencastle, decided to seek his fortune elsewhere. Of uncompromising Republican political stock, he ignored Horace Greeley's admonition, "Young man go West," and took a different direction.

He had already arranged to buy on contract a modest acreage in the Mississippi Delta where the silt of countless overflows of the River had produced a soil more than 60 feet in depth--the deepest and richest soil on Earth other than the valley of the Nile. . .

And so, one typically bleak March day, he a.s.sembled his dog, a span or two of mules, his scanty farming tools and himself into a box car headed south.

In later years, when speaking of that momentous occasion, he said, "I think the most lonesome, homesick and desperate moment of all my ups and downs was the time I closed that box car door on familiar scenes I might never see again--and the wheels began to turn. It was so cold I made a sort of bunk, wrapped my dog and myself in the same blankets to help keep one another warm, and tried to go to sleep."

The trip took over a week. They all ate some days. Some days just the mules and the dog; and one day, just the mules.

Did you see a house float past?

So allow us to introduce the subject of this sketch, Mr. Lacy Simpson Stoner, and inform you Holly Bluff, Mississippi, was his destination.

Arrived, he had hardly become oriented when the rising Mississippi started his house toward New Orleans and the Gulf.

Fortunately it lodged in some nearby trees, and as the river receded, he, aided by block and tackle, floated and pulled it back to its original or approximately original position, where it was made more secure.

In speaking of these floods, Mr. Stoner said, "It was nothing in those days to have some man from up the River come along and inquire, 'Did you see a three room, part-yaller house goin' by here in the last day or two?'"

Crops were good, with fair prices. He plowed back the profits into more and more land and better and better mechanical equipment.

And he took time to come back to Indiana and claim his bride, a Lafayette girl, the present Mrs. Stoner.

Again the rains came and the water flooded their first floor.

They moved what they could to the second floor, where the water soon caught up with them. They tied some of the better and more useful articles up among the rafters, and had just selected the spot to chop out through the roof, to get to the boat which was moored to the house, when the crest of the flood was reached and the water slowly subsided.

Revolution in the Delta

Then followed more and bigger crops, bigger profits, more land, more mechanical equipment and less sharecropper help. Meanwhile, soy beans and other crops gradually supplanted cotton.

In time a new and modern home was built--on higher ground nearer Holly Bluff and its modern school house. This home has a large and beautiful living room paneled and beamed in "pecky cypress", and it was there J. Frank Durham got his idea of paneling the new Durham Building here in the City.

Mr. Stoner now owns some 3,000 acres of that Mississippi Delta, virtually all of which is as level as a baseball park; a fleet of 12-foot combines, tractors, a vast amount of modern equipment and enough rubber-tired low grain wagons to fill a small-sized parking lot. He has a large interest in the community cotton gin, although cotton has almost disappeared from his land. He has many other and varied interests.

He revolutionized farming in the Mississippi Delta by introducing mechanized equipment and changing from cotton to other and better-paying crops that require less manual labor. These are a part of the secrets of his astounding success, coupled with ability, hard work and close careful attention and application to his business. . .

Week before last, Mr. Stoner and his comely wife came North but not in a box car. Their mode of travel is a June, 1954-vintage, air-conditioned Cadillac, just off the a.s.sembly line.

Your editor met Mr. and Mrs. Stoner at a dinner party at Old Trails Inn being given by Mr. Andrew E. Durham in their honor.

Messrs. Stoner and Durham were members of the 1917 State Scottish Rite Cla.s.s at Indianapolis, and lived as neighbors west of the City. . .

The Farmer's Game

Mr. Stoner talked freely of his boyhood days in Greencastle. He and others of his age would gather evenings in the restaurants around town to eat hamburgers or some such food. They invented a pastime they called "the farmer's game". . . Slips of paper were shaken up in a hat and each member drew a slip. All but one were blank. The one who drew the slip labeled "treat" had to do just that.

In due time the boys improved the game to make it as sure for those "in the know" not to lose as the present day one-armed bandits. There would be, say, five in the game, one of whom was the "sucker". One of the conspirators would prepare the five slips. He did that by writing "treat" on all five slips. In the meantime each conspirator would have obtained a blank slip of the same shape and quality of paper. This he would have rolled-up in his LEFT vest pocket--just in case.

The drawing would begin. The victim would have to draw a "treat"

slip because all five were labeled that way. Those in the know would draw, give a quick sort of look and put the slips in their RIGHT vest pockets, at the same time conjecturing aloud, "Mine was a blank. Wonder who got the treat slip," or some such remark.

One night, after being bilked three successive times, the victim became suspicious. Feeling he had served his apprenticeship long and faithfully, the others were ready and willing to admit him as a full blood brother. They told him to prepare the slips and conduct the drawing, which he of course did according to the "official" rules--four blanks and one with "treat". To the surprise of all, and rather contrary to the mathematical law of averages, he again drew the "treat" slip. This convinced him that the game was straight.

"And so," said Mr. Stoner laconically, "we saved him for another night, until he had learned his ritual better."

Mr. and Mrs. Stoner returned to Holly Bluff last week. Later they go to Hot Springs, Arkansas, for the baths, a semi-annual pilgrimage; then probably to Denver and the West Coast; then perhaps north to Oregon and Washington, where they may ship their car along and continue by steamship to Alaska.

Warning to Alaska

Last Sat.u.r.day, during the open house for the Durham Building, J.

Frank Durham received a congratulatory telephone call from his friend and schoolmate, V. Maurice Smith, at Alaska. He is the co- owner and Editor of Jessen's Weekly at Fairbanks, and also newscaster for a local radio station. Frank alerted his friend to the possible invasion of Alaska by Mr. Stoner and his "farmer's game," or improvements thereof. He advised his friend to keep his eyes "off that air-conditioned Cadillac and on the driver himself, as he is by far the more dangerous of the two."

SOMETHING ON THE CARPET

July 20, 1954

Dear Footser: . . . Which reminds me of your Uncle Charlie Bridges. He was a Deacon or whoever it is who gets to pa.s.s the plate at the Presbyterian Church for the collection.

The event happened during the First World War. The church needed a new carpet. Mr. Raphael, the Pastor, extended himself in the sermon about giving for the proposed new carpet. He extolled the brethren and sistern to "Give, give until it hurts. If you do not have the cash, just sign a piece of paper setting out the amount you will give toward the new carpet, put it in the collection box. The ushers will take care of it and you will be credited the amount on the new carpet". etc.

Charlie was pa.s.sing the plate. He came to old Mrs. Cooper, a devout Presbyterian, who whispered something in his ear. Charlie straightened up and said, "Brother Raphael, Mrs. Cooper would like to do a little something on the new carpet, but she has no paper."

Pap

CHAPTER VI: TO SOUTH AMERICA AND BACK

Accompanied by daughter Aura May (alias Sugarfoot), Pap embarked on a two-month land, sea and air tour of Latin America in late November, 1949. This journey, extraordinary for the time, was recorded in a series of letters printed in successive editions of the weekly Putnam County Graphic, Greencastle, Indiana.

Each letter was hand-written, in pencil, on yellow, ruled tablet paper, and then mailed to the paper, where they would be set into the equivalent of two to five full columns of type. The touring was extensive, and the letters were inclusive, giving conjecture to just how Pap found the time to do all this writing? Aura May said that other than during the cruise down, he did it all at night after she had gone to bed. She remembered one time in particular when he awoke her at 2 a.m. to ask how to spell the name of the highest peak in the Andes--Aconcagua.

At first there was only a two-week delay between the writing and the publication, but these intervals grew longer as the tourists progressed from country to country, demonstrating the limits of postal departments and/or carriers of the day. By the time the final letter was printed, Pap and Aura May had been home approximately three months.

EMBARKING FROM NEW ORLEANS