TEXAS HILL COUNTRY

While moseying around Texas Hill Country, we bumped into President Lyndon Johnson's Texas home. It was just a sign on the road so we pulled in and visited. No pictures were allowed inside, but outside was a hoot. In fact it was raining the day we were there and rain was kind of a significant factor at the Johnson Ranch. He had built a concrete swale across a  creek to get from his ranch to the main road. During wet weather the swale could be a couple feet under water but did not impede the flow of the creek. During dry weather it was just a dip in the road.

We were there in late January, and water was flowing across the swale but we were not allowed to drive across it as the Johnson family did. When the government acquired the property for a Historical Park and Monument, they built another road to the house. In Johnson's garage with several of the family vehicles were pictures of Johnson driving across the swale

Here Ladybird holds tight to her hat.

 And here, Johnson scares the living daylights out of  newspaper reporters, supposedly one of his favorite sports, according to the docents.

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 The park property also includes a neighboring homestead. No electricity there. It is run by the docents in the same way most Hill Country Texans lived, including the Johnson family at one time. A windmill pumped water. Wood stoves were used for cooking and the buildings were logs. Here are young piglets and chickens.

In hot Texas summers, Hill Country folks made use of outdoor kitchens for canning and washing clothes.

 

Docents make sausages, headcheese and bake bread on a wood stove.

 They preserve fruits and make jellies as in the old days. All without benefit of modern appliances. Its an interesting place to visit. But, I'm glad I have a grocery store down at the corner.

LBJ's country school house has been moved to the site. He and Ladybird are buried here, as well. Their house inside is quite unpretentious. True Texans, down home kind of people. They lived quite simply.

DEPRESSION YEARS PART 4

Friends my own age remember the depression through our parents, or aunts and uncles who told us stories of the depression days. Pam Quyle, of Murphys, learned about hard times from her mother, Joyce Miller, from South Dakota. Not only did they deal with the depression but, even worse, was the dust bowl. "My mother repeated to us about how awful it was when the locusts went through" explained Pam. "For miles you could see nothing but naked branches, not one green thing. Animals were killed because there was no feed. They ate what they could but without refrigeration, the meat was wasted. They lived on their oat crop with nothing but oats for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The whole (Miller) family moved away from there and escaped. My uncles eventually returned, but my mother never wanted to go back to South Dakota and didn't."
Kenneth Myles, 84, of Jamestown hailed from Terre Haute, IN. He remembers his father worked at anything he could find. "My mom took in laundry. She got 10 cents a piece for washing, ironing and starching a shirt. When the tomato factories were canning, she would work for three or four weeks."
Ken and his brother both dropped out of school at 14 to help put bread on the table. His brother worked the wheat fields for a $1 a day. "I carried newspapers and brought home $2.50 a week." Then they both got jobs at a bakery greasing and stacking pans. "Everybody was in the same boat and everybody worked together," said Ken. You can read about Ken in "friends and "neighbors" magazine celebrating Tuolumne Seniors.
To be continued