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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 6th
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...
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