My Hometown Family Question 1

 

·        What do you remember most about Okmulgee?  What do you regret most about how it has changed?  Share some fond memories you have from when you were a child growing up in Okmulgee.

 

My Home, Okmulgee Oklahoma   (Okmulgee in Muskogee Creek Indian means bubbling water)  

                      My great grandmother, grandma, dad is holding me and my granddad.

I was only a few days old when I was left with my grandparents to live.  My mom had a serious septic infection after my birth and was dangerously ill.  I was mostly in my grandparent’s home until I was about 8.  That home was a small, two-story home at 1318.  The upstairs was only a bedroom – mine.  “1318” was a home between Jude Bowen and Bill and Spicer.  The next house south was the Pennington’s, the next two houses were the McGowan’s.  This neighborhood was my safe place.  Everyone loved me, taught me right from wrong, shook their heads at my antics and yet they still loved me.  “1318” was my home base until my grandparents moved to Selma Alabama in 1968-ish.  My safe house.  Nothing ever happened there that scared me and the only time in my young life I felt unconditional love – but it was ONLY when I was at 1318.  I was moved around a lot as a child; 2 places in Texas, 7 places in Colorado, 4 in Oklahoma - because my dad would not pay the bills.  I would always somehow end up back in Okmulgee at 1318.

In 1966, my home was at 914 N C; a very tiny house about 50 feet from the railroad tracks that went through the Texaco yard.  There used to be an “I Love Lucy” Show that showed the bed bouncing across the floor, as the rain passed, when they stayed in a hotel.  I could totally relate to this, as it was exactly what happened in that home.  I still laugh about that.  I think my grandparents bought that house out of self-defense.  My aunt Connie and Uncle Vic and their 4 boys often needed a home as did my parents.  Granddad bought 914 as a place to safely tuck his grandchildren.  At some point, both families moved in and out of “914” more than once.  It was there that a German neighbor, Brighetta, befriended my mom and was a blast to be around – good for mom and good for us.  She still exists!  We see her at the floral shop in Okmulgee when we go back to purchase flowers. 

My sister was born in 1966.  Right before that, Aunt Connie and Uncle Vic needed a home, so they took “914” and our grandparents paid $5,000 for our home at 813.  We moved there, Liz was born, and that was my home base then, though, it was an easy walk for the two of us – 5 blocks – back to grands at 1318.  We would go there to visit, walk/skip/run/trike/bike back home - and it was a safe, friendly trip visiting with neighbors who were sitting outside in their yards.  Okmulgee was overall a wonderful and safe hometown to be raised in.

In 1969, the twins were born, and we were still at “813”, which to his day, my sister proudly lives at that same address.  A new home was built, but it is on the same piece of land she came into the world to live at.  The old 813 was a mess; had lots of horsehair plaster, lathe, old arches, and wooden floors with nice slivers of wood and holes in them.  Even the walls had holes in them where the plaster had fallen off.  It became home; great nooks and crannies to have 4 kids and it was very stable for me...  not fancy, but for the first time I ever felt at home was here.  None of it was particularly safe, but it was home.  If we had money to fix it up, it would have been great, but we had 13 layers of leaking roofing to cover us, the holes in the floors and walls, gas leaks into the home but… you know?  I still loved that place.  It was work; tearing down plaster and trying to remodel even though we didn’t know what we were doing.  It was a great learning experience – learning everything we did wrong, I think.  But what 16-year-old knew how to tear our lathe and plaster, add insulation and sheetrock, try to tape and finally get to paint and try to make it pretty.  I think I still suffer from lung disease from all the horsehair and lathe, but I wouldn’t have traded that house for another.  It was my first real home. 

Okmulgee, the good:  small town, huge pride, lots of great stores, people and atmosphere.  Saturday’s  the stores were open until noon, and Thursdays were late night (8pm) downtown hours.  Ramsey’s was the best department store in town – 3 stories of upscale clothes.  Anthony’s was the ’real’ people store; everyday clothes and old-fashioned tubes where the money went up and the change came back, the Creek Council House Museum was always fun to hang out in.  M&D Drug store was where I would get my ‘prescription’ ice cream cone once a week after going to the sinus Dr, Dr Tracewell.  

Greenwood Lake was a place kids could go and stay out of trouble with a grumpy old man, Mayor JB Bennett, who seemed to hate kids, but we always went back, stayed all day, and learned to swim and play – while our parents let them ‘babysit’ us.  Best babysitters ever in my opinion – if you had to have a babysitter.   Learned a lot of water smarts there, trampoline safety (one person on all sides, one on the trampoline) or no jumping.  We walked from one end of town to the other and rode the ‘drag’, which was 6^th Street and Wood Dr – back and forth for hours on end, often with kiddos in the back of the car – trying to hide them so our school friends didn’t know we always had kids with us. 

Okmulgee Lake was where we went for a day out, to climb on the rock house, sometimes swim and often just picnic.  Beautiful lake just a few miles from home.  There was a rock there that I went to when things got too tough for me to deal with.  No one could see me and I could sit for hours and cry, think, dream of ways out and sometimes just relax watching water, critters and boats.  I had to find a ride out or walk, but it was a safe place with lots of thinking time.  It was an easy place to get away from the bs going on and no one could ever find me there - until I met "Red".  When times were tough, he found my rock.

The bad??  Everyone knew we were poor.  Everyone knew we were on the ‘wrong’ side of the tracks – and something about us wasn’t right.  I learned to lie to cover the disarray my life was in, the fact that no one wanted me (perceived - because I was never allowed to live in one place for long) and so I tried to pretend to be someone I could never be.  I lied because my mom and my best friend’s father were in an affair, he was married to her mom and he was molesting me – and in my mind the whole world knew… at least all of Okmulgee for sure.  Small town stuff, big time stuff for me.  I struggled my entire childhood being moved around, sometimes in the middle of the night.  Once I stayed in Okmulgee, I realized I was never liked; not at any place I stayed growing up, and not anyone but the adults on the 1300 block of Alabama showed anything but tolerance.  I was tolerated by most and hated by lots.

I later married and found myself to be a decent person - and no longer need to ‘embellish’ anything – all I ever did was make me insecure and scared of getting caught.  Growing up in a small town seems tough, but you look back later and realize everyone had their own private hells, not just us.

Okmulgee now is a poor town.  The Creek Indians have bought nearly everything around, the natives don’t have to pay taxes, Texaco, NutraSweet and all other big companies are gone, the powers that be seemed to have no desire to grow, so there ARE no taxes being paid, no nice salaries to beckon people and no desires to do better.  Homes are deteriorating, pride has slipped to an all-time low, trash in people’s own yards with no care at all - and the town has become very sad looking and rundown. It is depressing to me as it was such a wonderful place and friendly town to grow up in.  They have an Okmulgee Hometown Rising Committee that is trying to bring it back, but sadly, there are no taxes to help raise the bar and it is a constant struggle for those trying. 

3 important 'corners' of my little world; 1318, 918, and 813.

Then there was 706... 

Thanks to my sister, Shari, for asking this question.  Now you know.

 

Medicine Park, Oklahoma

Great place to visit - especially if you have time to visit the area around Medicine Park.

Medicine park is a quaint cobblestone home and building town near Lawton, OK.  They have a few little shops on the Main Street to shop in - IF you go on the weekend or in the summer, I assume.  We are retired, so most were closed while we were there during the week.  

               

We really wanted to visit this store, as it has rave reviews, but it wasn’t meant to be.  They did not open our entire visit.

We stayed at the Plantation Inn in Medicine Park.  It was fine, but if you needed extra towels, etc. you had to walk 2 blocks to their restaurant to ask.  The room was clean, a/c worked fine, showers were good.  It is a very old building, so the floors creaked - but it didn’t bother us.  Not sure about our neighbors though.  😂  I would stay there again if we went back.

           

There are pews on the porch to sit on downstairs, and chairs in the screened in porch upstairs at the hotel.  We sat out there and visited quite a bit.  

The very best part of Medicine Park is the water running through it, and the walkways next to and over the water!

This picture just wants to stay here!  It is one of the cobblestone houses in Medicine Park.  I have tried to move it, delete it, and cut it.  Nope!  It says it lives here.  So here ya go!

Medicine Park is not handicapped friendly at all.  I saw very little adaptions to help people get around - the hotel included.  There are no rails on the steps even, which made it difficult for me to get into the hotel without someone secure.  Of course, I had a bum hip, so that made it more difficult.

Medicine Park is not a shopping town - not even a souvenir shopping town.  There are maybe half a dozen stores IF they are all open with a very limited selection.  It is mainly set up to be a swimming hole for the kids, I think.

I wasn’t disappointed in Medicine Park.  I love small places, walks by the river, nature, bridges, Geocaching, and just relaxing.  This trip was all of that.  My only two disappointments are that modern homes are being built up around it, taking away from the novelty of the cobblestone homes, and the one store I really wanted to visit was closed.  On a relaxation scale of 1-10, it is definitely an 8.  I did have a feeling they are attempting to turn it into a glorified tourist attraction though - and I have no idea why I thought that.  It would be sad though.  

More on the area around Medicine Park in future posts.

****************************

I got my shot in my back today, so I am feeling better.  My back and leg are not pain free, but much better.  Hopefully they will even get better as the week goes on.  Dr says I have a pinched nerve between the pelvis and hip.  He also stated it had been a whole year since I had been in!  Go me!  I am of the opinion, “suck it up buttercup!”, but sometimes I just need a break in one area.  Break time!

 

The Ingram House

Growing up with my grandmother, she told stories about the house on the Wichita Wildlife Refuge near a Lawton, Ok. where they lived, long before I was born.

She told us one of our uncle woke to a buffalo leaning through a window looking at him.  It nearly scared him to death!

My sister remembers a story about noises outside the house and grans going out to see what was going on, only to find army tanks aiming at the house.  She frantically waved some fabric in the air to stop them.  The soldiers were getting ready to blow the place up!  They were shocked anyone lived there.

Another time, my uncle heard weird noises outside and found out they were missiles zooming over the house! 

My aunt tells the story of my grandfather feeling like something was watching him while he read the paper.  He be put the paper down and went to see what it was - and it was one of the wild animals watching him, though she didn’t remember if it was an elk or buffalo.  

Can you imagine one of these things happening to you?

Grandma and grandpa lived in the house during World War II.  They paid $1 a month to live there, while granddad was a civilian working on the (Ft Sill) base nearby.  

It has been too long for me to remember all the stories, but I remembered going to see the house several times and knew it was a special place.  When we went to Medicine Park last week, we looked for it - and sure enough - it was still there!  It is boarded up, far off the road and rattle snakes are rampant in the area, so I just took a picture of it.  🤣

Years ago, when my Aunt Jacque lived in Selma, Alabama, I was in her studio looking at her art.  There was a pile next to the door of scraps, some trash and this picture.  I asked her what she was doing with it and she said she was getting ready to haul it to the trash.  I asked if I could have it - after all, I envied her artistic talents.  I was excited that she said yes, and ever since I got it, it has hung in all of our homes. Imagine my surprise when I later learned that it was the Ingram Place!  

         

History never used to interest me, but it sure does now!  I am excited that our genealogical ‘family home’ is still standing and upon researching for more information, I found it is listed as a historical landmark!  

Want to read more about it?  HERE is the history previous to my grandparent’s living there.  

Today was a good day.  🙂

Psycologist Tests Today

Thank God it is over.  

7 hours of puzzles, tests, questions, digging up my past... again... there is absolutely no way to explain it.  "Why?"  I try.  "Wait!  What?"  I try... "I am confused".  I try.  "Wait, I don't understand - weren't?"  I try.  "Wasn't that?"  I try.  "Who did that?"  I try?  "Didn't you say this?"  That was then, then... I try.  "Wait, I am confused"... I try.  "You raised who?" I try.  "They weren' yours?"  I try.  "Who's were they?"  I try... "Why did that happen?"  I try.  "How did that turn out?"  I try.  "When was this?"  I try.  Jesus, it is difficult every freaking time I try to explain but there are so may twists and turns in my life it hurts to try to unweave them... again... and yes, it even confuses me. Did I have 2 kids?  Or 5?  Or 9?  or 14?  And how did that happen?  But what does this have to do with my brain, my fatigue and my memory?  I don't want to remember this crap again... and again.  I have moved forward.  Let me leave it behind.

Then he started asking why I think I am sick all the time, how much do I think I am sick, how truly sick am I, what can I do to get better, how do I get appointments to the Dr, do I call the Drs and tell them I am sick, or do I just go to follow-up appointments, do I feel sick all the time, when was the last time I thought I was well, why do I think I was never well, what Dr prescribed Adderall, why did they describe Adderall, who thought I needed Adderall, how often do I take Adderall, is that the only drug I take to 'ease' my fatigue?  Then do I drink, how much do I drink, how often do I drink, why do I not drink, don't I drink with my husband, do I drink with friends, do I drink with family, do I drink when I am alone, do I drink when I am working, do I drink without telling anyone, do I drink when I am sad, do I drink when I cannot handle my problems, do I cry, why do I cry, when do I cry, how long do I cry, does anyone see me cry, why can't I cry, why does crying mean you are weak....  OMG.  STOP!

You get the idea... it was a crazy and exhausting 7 hours.  I despise Drs acting like not ever drinking is a lie.  I hate that Drs think not ever turning to drugs is a lie.  There was a point in my life that I decided that there was enough BS going on in my life that I wasn't going to allow one more thing destroy me by my choice.  I never smoked, I never drank, I never was promiscuous and I was never a troublemaker.  I did everything possible to blend in and not be noticed.  I was honestly a stick in the mud, dug in and was not doing THAT.  And I didn't.  Don't act like I am lying about it - because I am not.

I hate Drs thinking I am a hypochondriac dreaming up illnesses to be sick with.  I don't WANT to be sick, but the fact of my life is that I AM sick.  100% of the time.  I try to be ok, I try to feel good, I try to be upbeat, but damnit, I am tired of the layers of exhaustion, brain fog, pain, lack of give a damn and energy.  More often than not, I am just trying to keep my feet in a forward motion and it takes too much concentration to look beyond the tip of my toe.  I often feel guilty about not being happy-go-lucky, smiling all the time - and I am aware that I am continuously withdrawing.  My husband has to deal with it all and as hard as I try to be positive, I fail miserably.  When I am with him, I don't have to be strong - he can be my strength - but, it isn't fair to him either and I am well aware of that.  I just do not see an out, one that helps us both.

Have I ever thought about suicide?  No.  Have I ever thought about just giving up and letting myself fall into a grave?  Absolutely.  Then I think of my sweet hubby, our kids, my family, the flowers, the grand kids, the travels - all the wonderful things God has given me... and I start putting one foot in front of the other again.  

Today has been a whirlwind of being apprehensive, thoughtful, confused, tired, angry, exhausted, dumbfounded, pissed, and just done moments.  Over done is more like it.  I don't want to 'go back', I don't want to try to convince another idiot that I am truly sick, that I never smoked or drank, I don't want to try to remember every freaking detail that led to 'that' and I don't want you to question the Drs that actually know my diagnosis and know ME.   And I certainly don’t give a rat’s last that you think my list of illnesses is a “trophy list”!  😡

I am proud to say that not one of the Drs that know me is less than amazed that I continuously carry on despite my odds.  They do not have any idea how I can do it, but they tell me I am truly a miracle.  I just tell them God isn't finished with me.

I drove an hour to the phycologist, I was in his office 7 hours with no rest and no lunch, I drove another hour home, I slept for 4.5 hours, walked outside to try to weed in my garden, got so fatigued I came in, ate a burrito, wrote this, and now, at 10:30 I am going to bed.

That was my day. All the 'brain' testing is done.  Now we wait 2 weeks to see what they say.  

And I will try to recuperate from the last week of Holidays on Parade, bike trip, testing and Mother's Day activities.  Maybe I will allow myself to rest and finish a quilt.

That is all folks.  I promise to get off this rant, because, I would rather talk about some fun stuff.  I have promised myself and friends to document how exhausting this life can be.  Primary Immunodeficiency, for us, is no joke. Absolutely no help in the medical world is exhausting.  We have to stick together, because it is truly just a handful of US.  Someday, maybe the world will look back at us and see that we were truly dragon slayers.

Keepin' On, Keepin' On. But How?

It has taken me a while to return - but here I am.  The EEG from you-know-where was by far one of the most difficult things I have done.  I am claustrophobic, and believe me, it was a tough few days.  Then the goup that gets in your hair is like a sandy paste, stuck for dear life, to your scalp - ground in your hair.  Getting it off was wash after wash, pulling, digging, scraping - I was flipping out.  I lost it, and just started bawling.  I am so tired of fighting battles.  This one, after being 'restrained' for 3 days, tied to wires, not being able to walk outside, with a little camera on me all the time, just about did me in.  Oh, well, I am finally over it.  Except my hair is now dryer and more brittle than ever and I have round patches of bald places from the electrodes and paste.  

Right after I get that hot mess off of my head, (1pm Sunday) I had to be at Faith Church at 5pm to help set up tables for an OHCE function that we were having Tuesday.  Monday was decorating, getting the kitchen ready and setting everything up like the stage, microphone and lights for the actual function.  Tuesday was Holidays on Parade - our scholarship fundraising deal we have every year.  We do have a lot of fun doing it, and I enjoy it a lot.  However, honestly, my body rebels big time with over 8 hours plus the previous days preps.

So, Wednesday, after the function and all the clean-up Tuesday, Steve and I packed, and took off on a bike ride with some friends for 3 days.  Day 1, on the way down, we were dodging rain the whole time.  A 4.5 hour drive ended up something like 7.5 - BUT we missed most of the rain.  We had about 15 minutes of light rain and several hours of a light misty rain.  We all had rain suits, so no one got wet, but it is kinda leery on a bike.  However, we made it fine.  

Day 2?  OMG.  I thought I was going to die.  As I have said here, I had an awful busy 6 days prior to leaving.  My body said, absolutely HELL NO WE ARE NOT DOING THIS.  I couldn't get on and off of the bike and I am sure I made an absolute fool of myself.  My determination to do it and my body saying it ain't happening were not showing my best side.  It was a very tough day.  When I finally gave in and went to bed, I rested and started day 3 off right.  We rode to the Wichita Mountains and found my grandmother's house on the wildlife refuge.  More on that later.  It was great!  The terrain there is amazing - very rocky - with HUGE boulders.  

We rode up Mt Scott, back down again and browsed around the area.  It was terrific.  I felt ok, not great, but I felt as good as I ever do.  I really enjoyed riding, laughing and visiting.  I think we have found our people.  They are all terrific.  I just hope they think the same about us.  Day 1, I am sure they were leery, but on the rest of the trip I hope they were reassured that I can do this.  

We made it home safely and, of course, I have crashed again.  I am trying to rest and catch up, but of course there was Mother's Day and this morning Punkin' asked us to come to her Roller Derby practice, so we did that as well.  Wow, was it fun!  An hour either way - which also tires me out.  What gives??

Again, how do I accept that I cannot do this?!?  I SWEAR my brain says, "Hell yeah!" and my body says, "HELL no we aren't!"  I see all these old ladies telling me all their aches and pains and I think, I can do this if they can do this!  I feel like I am letting myself get lazy - and I darned sure don't want to do that - so where does it end?  How to I tell if I am lazy or honestly cannot keep pushing?  Some days I do just want to throw in the towel - but I struggle to find footing and carry on.  And if I quit pushing, am I quitting?  Or am I salvaging what is left of my life and taking care of me?  

I don't know, I am lost.  I am tired and I am growing more weary every day.

And tomorrow I have my psychiatric evaluation to see if I am truly losing my memory or if I have something else going on.  5 hours of evaluation.  I oughta be fit to be tied at the end of it.

I go in to my Neurologist in 2 weeks to find the results of all this mess. I bet I can tell you already; everything is hunky dory - it always is fine.  No problems.  Wasted money.  But I hope for answers - like I always have.

More later on the adventures of Hogs and Gals.