Pioneer Tales: Pleasant Memories

Arkansas Echo

March 9, 1894 and March 16, 1894

“It is amazing,” an American recently said to me, “how times can change. Earlier, when the first Germans came here, a person could now and then make a good deal with an old horse or donkey or an old cow. Now it is totally the opposite. Now the Germans sell us their old, discarded horses, donkeys, and cows.”

Yes, I thought, that good man in entirely right. That is the way things happened in the past, as experienced by many of us. As you know, when a person settles somewhere, before everything else he must worry about a work animal, be it a horse or donkey or even a cow. For most of us, our resources were so limited that an expensive, that is, good, animal was at first not imaginable. That was the way it was for me.

Arkansas Echo ad for horse and mule sales, 1894

My pocketbook was in no condition to permit me a $100 horse or donkey. I had to look around for something cheaper. And I ran onto one. I bought a horse for $50 from an American. It was supposed to be about 10 years old, but later turned out to be 18. I did not know anything about horses and bought it because it looked pretty good. The man had obtained it eight months earlier in exchange for an old cow, and he had cleverly fattened and prettied it up.

The nag could have lasted a long time if I only had had a good corn trough and not such heavy work. We began in the woods and soon a strong horse was needed, especially with the plowing. I could not help the old nag. It really had to do more that I could have expected from it; of course I did too, so we could console each other. But with force, it came around and afterwards, when I had corn myself and did not need to buy more, I could not get him on his feet.

I could not sell or trade him, but I needed to acquire another work animal. Again one day an American came to me with a six-year-old donkey to sell cheaply, ridiculously cheaply, for $25, on credit.

I thought, it costs nothing to look and went there. He had the donkey in the yard and I immediately noticed that the fellow hobbled more on three than four legs. The man insisted that did not bother him at all when he was working: he could do anything. I wanted to have him on a bridle once since that is how one could see how agile the fellow was and how he could run. It took us a long time to get him into the bridle.

Then I thought to myself, if you can run like that, then your hobble doesn't bother you much, and $25 isn't too much money. I took the bait, signed the note, and climbed on the donkey, and rode for home.

Oh no, screamed my wife, shocked, as she saw us coming. What kind of animal are you bringing home? It has only three legs, or at most 3 ½. You will never get rid of that in all your life. And I had noticed that the forth leg was shorter than the others during the trip. He dragged it behind. I scratched my head: I had it and had to keep it. The American was laughing up his sleeve.

Arkansas Echo ad for farm machinery and wagons

So I had now increased my livestock by one, progress already. But if I had expected to be better able to do my work, I was making a mistake, as I very soon discovered. Of course, I could harness it to anything, to the wagon, to the plow, also to ride. But it couldn’t have been harder if I had pulled those things myself. Luckily, by nature I have a good amount of patience, although often enough, I would have happily wished they were (as my friend Gottlieb would have said) in Jericho.

There is an old saying: in emergencies, the devil eats flies (i.e., beggars can’t be choosers). Flies I did not swallow, but certainly a lot of irritation. I still have a secret horror when I remember that time. I had to use Pat – I had so named him – for transportation to the mill or to the store or to other places. And I had him trained so that I could hang the bridle on his neck and then drive him in front of me.

One time I had ridden to the store where I had bought various things, among them 10 pounds on meal and a side of bacon. I packed all of the stuff on Pat’s back, put the bridle on and drove him in front of me.

Just then, an oxen driver came by us and cracked a whip, and crash, my Pat jumped, threw off everything, and took to its heels.

Part 2

I naturally went after it. Sure enough when I had soon caught up, it turned around and went into a gallop. Now it had to go through a long, narrow lane (a lane is the name of a path that has railing on both sides). If someone were at the other end, I could easily trap it. And luckily someone just then traveled by. I called and he saw what was happening. The man jumped from the wagon and went in the right direction so that he could cut off my Pat at the pass. Then I could catch hold of it by the collar.

As I got hold of it, I was overwhelmed by anger. I picked up a piece of wood and beat it over the ears. Oh pain! My Pat fell down and gave up the ghost, not making a sound. So it appeared to me. Well, said the man, you have beaten it to death. And so it appeared to me. However, in a little while, Pat perked his ears and all of a sudden, he struggled onto his feet and was within a hair of slipping away again.

Arkansas Echo ad for wholesale grocery story

I went back with it to pack up the things again. As I came into view of the place where my Pat had thrown off his load, I saw, to my horror, a sow with her young pigs giving the goods a close investigation.

My rebellious Pat let himself be pulled about by the reins like an old cow. I tied him quickly on a bush and ran as fast as I could to the pigs. I called and screamed as loudly as I could: sic’em, sic’em, sic’em. At last, the sow took to her heels, with bacon in her mouth, to the woods. And I went after it in order, where possible, to save the bacon, since it had cost me 17 ½ cents a pound. And I recaptured it, but in a condition that no one can easily imagine.

Now back to my Pat and the other things. Oh how that looked -- everything tangled up and strewn about. The meal sack had a couple of holes large enough to stick my fist into. And I had a half hour of work to do to make the necessary repairs in the sack and again load it. Then I led my Pat very nicely by the reins home without any further accidents.

Little by little, I had improved my circumstances so much that I could entertain the thought of procuring for once a regular work animal. But first I had to shake loose from the old baggage. With the nag, I was lucky and after a time, I dealt him for an old cow.

Things didn’t go so fast with Pat. Nobody wanted to take the bait!. Finally, I found an American who would give me three sheep for it. Happy to get anything, I considered it briefly and gave it to the man to take with him. The sheep were running around in the woods. And the man wanted to bring them to me within a week. But one morning, after 3 or 4 days, Pat was standing again before the door. I thought it had jumped out of the pen of the American since, despite its three legs, the thing could still do that.  Since I saw the poor fellow was hungry, I gave him a good meal and then sent him back with one of my kids.

The boy returned with the information that the man would not want that donkey even if it were given to him as a present. So I had my beloved Pat again and I had to feed him throughout the winter. And I had no prospect of somehow getting rid of him.

Arkansas Echo ad: Drink Fallstaff Bottled Beer

Early in the year, I succeeded in selling it again and to be sure to an American for a fat swine that was supposed to weigh 150 pounds. The next morning I went immediately to the man and as I saw the 150 pound pig, it appeared to me that it was a little too small for 150 pounds. I told the American that a person could not really call such a swine a 150 pounder, since the swine could not have weighed 125 pounds, and that I should receive an extra farrow. All right, I said, I’ll aim the swine in the right direction and drive it home. I would have taken it if it weighed only 25 pounds. A couple of days later, I slaughtered it and it weighed not more or less that 65 pounds. Go ahead, I thought; at least I was fortunately free from my 3-legged Pat.

I resolved in the future to no longer be involved with such old beasts, but once it happened again that I got stuck with such an old dromedary, something I will tell about at another time.

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

Introduction to the Pioneer Tales
This pioneer tale is one in a series published in 1893 and 1894 by theArkansas Echo, a German-language newspaper in Little Rock. The stories are intended to show the challenges and adventures facing German-speaking immigrants when they came to settle in Arkansas. So far, the following posts have introduced the Pioneer Tales and provided translations of most of them:
Pioneer Tales of Arkansas' German Immigrants (background of the newspaper series)
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/05/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german.html

Arkansas Echo, November 3, 1893. THE GOOD OLD DAYS?http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/05/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german_17.html

Arkansas Echo, November 10, 1893
MERRY MÄT, OR A TRIP TO THE BATHS, Part 1
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/05/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german_21.html

Arkansas Echo, November 17, 1893
MERRY MÄT, OR A TRIP TO THE BATHS, Part 2
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/05/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german_31.html

Arkansas Echo, December 1, 1893
A JUICY ROAST--OR--WHO WANTS TO EAT WITH ME?
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/06/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german.html

Arkansas Echo, December 8, 1893
ANOTHER PIECE ABOUT "AUGUST" --OR -- LONG FENCE RAILS
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/06/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german_08.html

Arkansas Echo, December 22, 1893
HOW FRANK, WITHOUT POWDER AND LEAD, ONCE SLEW A MAGNIFICENT DEER
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/06/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german_10.html

Arkansas Echo, December 29, 1893
ERNST'S BAD LUCK
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/06/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german_17.html

Arkansas Echo, January 5, 1894
THAT'S THE WAY ITS DONE IN HUNGARY -or- A PERSON WHO WILL NOT ACCEPT ADVICE CANNOT BE HELPED
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/07/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german.html

Arkansas Echo, January 12, 1894
HOW ONE CAN LOSE ONE'S WAY IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/09/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german.html

Arkansas Echo, January 19, 1894
BILL’S TRIP TO THE MARKET 
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/10/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german.html

Arkansas Echo, January 26, 1894. THE WAY YOU PUSH THINGS, SO THEY WILL GO (OR, YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW)
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2013/01/the-way-you-push-things-so-they-will-go.html

Arkansas Echo, February 9, 1894. MY FIRST DEER HUNT
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2013/04/my-first-deer-hunt.html

Arkansas Echo, February 23, 1894 and March 2, 1894
JOSEPH GLANZMANN'S STORY OF GERMAN-SPEAKING IMMIGRANTS 
SETTLING NEAR ALTUS, ARKANSAS
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2012/10/pioneer-tales-joseph-glanzmanns-story.html


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Thanks to the Umpire, the Little Rock Rosebuds Vanquished the Hot Springs Bathers in a Baseball Game on June 9, 1894

The following are two front page stories printed in the Arkansas Gazette 119 years ago today, on June 10, 1894. They tell the story of two baseball games, one in which the home team (the Hot Spring Bathers) was robbed of a victory by an erroneous umpire call and the other in which the Camden Rainmakers demonstrated their superiority over the Morrilton  Prohibitionists. In the second game, the Rainmakers hit the pitching of Morrilton's Staples "whithersoever they wished" and according to some experts, Maloney, the Camden pitcher, threw "the best game ever pitched in Arkansas."  

The language of the sports stories in 1894 was a bit more elegant than today, but it is clear that the passion of the writers matched that of writers now covering hometown baseball teams. 

Go Rosebuds!  

WHY, WE’VE GOT A CINCH!

The Bathers Go Down Once More Before the Rosebuds

Stone’s Stalwarts Bat Out a Victory In the Third Inning – Camden Downs Morrillton (sic)

Special to the Gazette.

Hot Springs, June 9.—The umpire beat the home club in today’s ball game. They are consequently sore over it. It was as pretty a game as anyone would wish to see. Buckeye Taylor started again to do the twirling for Hot Springs and shut out the Rosebuds in two innings. In the third, however, they seemed to weaken and the visitors pounded out six runs. Reed then went in and finished the game. In the first half of the ninth with two men out and score standing 6 to 7 in favor of the Rosebuds, Hot Springs had the bases full and Taylor knocked a corking grounder just inside the third base line, on which two men scored. To the surprise of everyone umpire Sumpter called it a foul. Taylor and Hayden then retired the side. Score by innings:

                    1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9 
Little Rock    0   0   6   1   0   0   0   0   0 – 7
Hot Springs  1   0   2   1   0   0   0   0   2 – 6


 Special to the Gazette.
Camden, June 9.—Camden just put it all over the Morrillton (sic) Prohibitionists today. The latter could not play at all against the fearful onslaught on the Rainmakers. The Camden team realized today that the boys around town were backing them up. The game yesterday and the day before were played without much interest on the part of the Rainmakers, but today they were determined from the start to win the game, and they did. Both sides played a splendid game up to the third inning.
 

The Rainmakers soon found Staples balls and batted them all over the field whithersoever they wished. The errors were about even. It is said by experienced baseball men and Maloney pitched the best game ever pitched in Arkansas. He simply had the Morrillton (sic) boys at this mercy. Camden’s defeat by the Morrillton (sic) boys the day before yesterday is traceable to many causes other than good playing. The Camden boys are by far the best players. They should have had three straight games instead of two.
                   1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9
Camden      0   0   6   0   4   0   3   0   0 – 13
Morrillton     1   0   0   0   1   2   0   0   0 -- 4

Arkansas Gazette, June 10, 1894, p. 1

Changing South Fayetteville (Arkansas)

Most of my first twenty years of life, beginning in 1947, was spent in the South part of Fayetteville where I lived in rental houses on S. College Avenue, East 5th Street, and (I am told because I was too young to remember) S. Washington Ave. I also lived briefly in City Housing (Block Ave. near Archibald Yell Ave) and, for many years, starting in 1955, in a house on East 6th Street, a block down the hill from Jefferson Elementary School.  In those years, South Fayetteville (bounded by Archibald Yell Ave, S. School Ave., 15th Street, S. Wood Avenue, and Huntsville Road) was my turf. 

House on 200 Block of E. 6th St., illuminated by a gas light, 1961

South Fayetteville in the 1950's and 1960's was populated predominately by lower middle class families, most residing in modest, well-kept houses. Some streets had a sprinkling of larger, older homes. A few tracts of land contained large houses or mansions (for example, the Walker House, off S. College Avenue, near Jefferson was a big historic house surrounded by a large amount of land). Several neighborhoods had mainly tiny houses inhabited by poorer people.

The nicer part of Fayetteville, with the bigger and more expensive houses, was located to the north and northeast of the downtown. Housing for middle and upper middle class families were to be found near the University, around the City Park, and in the vicinity of the Veterans Administration hospital. The land along and north of East Dickson contained historic two-story Victorian style houses that dated to the early days of the city. The east-side mountain contained some mansions that were visible from the city’s flat lands. 

In those years, new housing developments on the edges of the core city were on their way, but had barely begun. Most of those suburban houses with big yards would be built to the northeast and northwest of the city center. And while Fayetteville was to grow in the coming years, comparatively little of the growth was to take place in South Fayetteville and the areas surrounding it.  

During my time in South Fayetteville, it was inhabited largely by families whose income came from blue collar, clerical, or service industry jobs. Also, many older people lived there. Few university faculty members or other more affluent professionals lived in South Fayetteville. (When I was attending Jefferson grade school, I heard rumors that the city had a university, but it was some years before I was first on the campus.) Also, South Fayetteville contained few black families, though Robert Wilks and his family lived on 6th Street, east of Jefferson School. Most black families lived directly east of the Square, in an area behind the County Courthouse, below – ironically – the Confederate Cemetery. 

Student Phillip Snow on the Jefferson Elementary School grounds, 1959

During the 1950s and early 1960s, much of the social life of a boy in South Fayetteville centered on Jefferson Elementary, which offered a place to play when school was not in session. On one side of the building, it had playground equipment. On the other side were basketball hoops and a large blacktopped space for other games. Its lower field was a place to play baseball. When the school’s playgrounds were full or not easily accessible, we used the numerous vacant lots located near our houses to play whatever games we wanted – touch football, whiffle ball, etc. 

Mr. Hankins, 6th Grade Teacher at Jefferson School. Judy Shofner
and Melba Adams (L to R) are standing behind him facing the camera

Playing in the Lower Field of Jefferson School, 1959.
Student Larry Stout has the football; he is stiff arming Jimmy Hawkins.
Mike Yarberry is in the background facing the camera

During those years, South Fayetteville was full of kids, the baby boomers. On my block of East 6th street alone, neighbor kids included (at different times) Bobby Carnes, Randy Allison, the Daily brothers, the Dockery brothers, Phyllis Jet, Sue Skelton, and others. Ronnie Cole and Steve Baucom lived a block to the west. Others within a short walking distance of Jefferson were the Eugene Tucker; Phillip Snow; Larry Stout; Bruce Walker; Philip Agee; the Ballard brothers; cousins Justin, Morris, and Beverly Daniel; Newt Land; Larry Schafer; and many others. 

One of the nice things about living in my part of South Fayetteville was that a couple of small neighborhood grocery stores – Hanna’s and Johnson’s Groceries -- were located by Jefferson School, selling staples such as candy, pop, and baseball cards.  Also, as we got a bit older, we could easily walk up to the Square to go the Palace or Ozark Theater to watch a movie. Or we could go there to spend our allowance at one of the five-and-dime stores.

Things Change

I was reminded of my days in South Fayetteville when I visited there recently, driving around the old neighborhoods. Surprisingly, it still looks much the same in many neighborhoods, with few changes on streets such as South College and South Washington. Most of the old houses are still around. Some have been refurbished and look much better than I remembered; others are more dilapidated. The area still seems to be full of modest houses for families living on a tight budget.

The area now has fewer empty lots. Most have been filled by houses, mostly modest ones that fit comfortably in the surroundings. A few lots have been used  for rental housing, much of it cheap, brick single story units with little landscaping or charm. 

The most obvious negative change is that Jefferson Elementary School is no longer a school. Young students have to leave South Fayetteville to attend elementary school. That means elementary school students in South Fayetteville can no longer walk to and from school; they no longer have the same easy ambulatory access to their friends and playgrounds after school (though Jefferson still operates as an adult and community education center and the lower field is still there). 

The most impressive positive change in South Fayetteville is the expansion of Walker Park, which is a now great asset for the area. It was a small neighborhood park in the late 1950s. At the time, it did not encompass the overgrown scrub land bounded by S. College Avenue, East 7th St. (then unpaved), the Town Branch, and East 15th St.  That land contained lots of trees, but also had a large cleared area. At the time, someone had scratched out a rough baseball diamond on a part of the cleared land and put up a crude backstop. On weekends, South Fayetteville folks would crawl through a barbed wire fence to play baseball there. Now of course, the land has eight baseball parks, soccer fields, hiking trails, and other recreation amenities. 

The New Style Housing

One major change in South Fayetteville has occurred recently – most within the last year -- and I cannot decide whether it is something to be welcomed or whether it should be considered a threat to the future of the area. I am talking about the colorful multi-story townhouses and row houses being built in several South Fayetteville locations. 

Ronnie Cole's Old House on the corner of West 6th Street and Block Avenue

Across 6th Street from Ronnie Cole's old house; These units face Block Ave.
Other units built behind them face S. East Avenue 

I could hardly believe my eyes when I first saw such a development last November. It is located on West 6th Street (now MLK Blvd) across the street from where Ronnie Cole lived, less than a block from where I resided for a decade. It is bounded by S. Block on one side and S. East St. on the other. This development, which is nearly finished, was built on a half block of land on which Ronnie’s grandparents had lived in a large country-style house. The present Google satellite photo (60 West 6th Street) still shows the old house and the large lot on which it sat.

In November, 2012, builders had completed several new, brightly painted two-story single family houses, each with a tiny yard, and were working on others. By April 2013, eight new houses had been built or were being finished. These houses have small porches, small balconies and fenced back yards. While moderately attractive, their size, colors, style and arrangement are unlike any other previously to be found in South Fayetteville.

In Spring 2012, several similar units were also completed or near completion a block away at the corner of Block Ave. and W. 7th Street (across from an entrance to Walker Park). These units have a design similar to those on West 6th Street. 

These multi-story, modern houses were recently built on S. Church Ave.

Some even more incongruous residential housing has been recently built a few blocks to the west on S. Church Ave.(see pictures above) between West 6th and West 7th Streets. These units have a more modern and striking design than the new ones a block away on West 6th and 7th streets. They come in different heights (2 and 3 stories) and colors. Their roofs have unconventional angles and window size and locations are quirky.  They are built more closely together, though each has its own small yard.  

Row Houses on West 5th Street, between Locust and School Avenues;
Four attached units have been built; a foundation exists for four more units 

These attached units are located at the corner of Locust Ave. and W. 5th St. 

A few blocks north of those houses, wrapping the intersection of West 5th Street and Locust Ave., some colorful row houses have been built (with some expressed intent to build more). Again, these designs are sleek and modern; the units are built of materials unlike those used in the traditional houses of South Fayetteville (see pictures above).

These last two developments, on Church Ave and Locust Ave., fit more easily into their environments. While the neighboring dwellings to the east are mostly older, traditional modest wood frame houses, these housing units are located near busy S. School St. and commercial development to the west. As urban-style houses, they fit fine in a multi-land use setting. 

In truth, I like the vibrant design and colors of much of this new South Fayetteville housing, especially the single family units on Church Ave. Likely, they are not attractive to families with children because they have tiny yards and are too near a four-lane road with substantial traffic. However, I can see how childless professionals who want interesting space, a non-conventional design, and convenient location would find these units enticing. Also, I would guess that the units have some price advantages because the cost of the land on which they are built is cheaper than similar land in north Fayetteville.

It will be interesting to see if the addition of these non-conventional units, so unlike the other houses in South Fayetteville, is the start of a transformation (gentrification?) of the area, or if they are simply a one-time opportunistic exploitation of low land prices to build reasonably priced for buyers who want more space at an affordable price. Check back in a year to see what has happened.   

Public Art Surprise at Vienna's Stadtpark: Stage Set, 1996 by Donald Judd

Vienna is full of public art, mainly grand statutes and memorials commemorating famous musicians, writers, Hapsburgs, generals, and politicians. For example, the statutes of Johann Strauss, Goethe, Franz Josef, Mozart, and Maria Theresa, among others, are located in visible locations and attract the attention of visitors in the city. They have both historic and aesthetic appeal.

Statute of Goethe in Vienna

Other public art is often more difficult to find, and I was happy to stumble on a pleasing and enjoyable art installation in Vienna's Stadtpark, the huge urban park that is bordered by Parkring. On a path in midst of the park, not far from a foot bridge crossing the paved Wienfluss -- Vienna River -- that runs through it, stands six large fabric panels mounted at different heights, each with a different vivid color.

The panels are over the walkway, and because they have different heights, the relationship of the colors -- that is, the juxtaposition and visibility of different  colors -- changes as a person walks toward them. The result is dynamic art that fetches attention from the time it is first noticed until a viewer passed under the panels.

Part of the pleasure of this art is the surprise of seeing it in an unexpected location: along a path surrounded by trees and other greenery. Another element of its attraction is the changing colors framed by the park and the classic architecture of the city that lies beyond the park boundaries. Also, the act of walking into and through the art enhances enjoyment of it.

The art installation from a distance. The bridge across the Wienfluss in the background

The picture above was taken on a cloudy, drizzly day, deepening the colors. The visible colors from this perspective were orange, yellow, blue, red, and black. One panel (green) is not visible.  A bridge across the Wienfluss can be seen in the distance. Trees stand in front of the panel; when the trees have leaves, they will add additional colors. Also, note a lamp on the path in the front of the first panel. When it is lit in the evening, its light will change the colors.

A few steps closer to the art 

Walking a few steps closer to the panels exposes more yellow, blue and orange. Each step shows the colors in a different relationship. In this picture, two people are walking through the art.

The Art Installation in Summer

Another picture -- this one downloaded from the internet -- shows the art installation in summer when it is framed by trees and more brightly lit by the sun. 

Near the panels of color is this sign identifying the title of the piece of art as "Stage Set, 1966." The artist was Donald Judd (1928-1994). The art was developed for an exhibition at the nearly Museum of Applied Arts in 1991 and it was donated to the City of Vienna in 1995.

Vacationing in Tulsa

When an early teenager, I got to go to Tulsa every year or so. It was the big family vacation trip.

Traveling to Tulsa was an exciting prospect for me. Usually we stayed two nights, so we had one full day and parts of two other days in the big city. 

I knew Tulsa and Oklahoma from television. Most of the few stations we received through our antenna originated there. Watching the advertisements and local news, I was familiar with Tulsa’s major stores, its professional baseball team, state and local politicians making news in the city, and city’s weather. I was always eager to go to the big city from which our television signal regularly came.

The trip required careful preparation. We had to schedule a time when the Tulsa Oilers would be playing baseball (preferably a double header) and when my baseball team had no game scheduled. I had to ask the coach of my baseball team to be excused from any planned practices. My dad had to schedule a day off, and we had to coordinate with my aunt Ruth – with whom we would stay in Tulsa -- so that we would come when she had a day away from work.

The entrance to Tulsa's Oiler Part from
http://tulsatvmemories.com/oiler.html

Arrangements had to be made with a relative to take care of Candy, our dog, for the duration of the trip. The car had to be taken in for a check and an oil change and lube job. The air pressure of the tires needed to be double checked as did the oil level of the engine.

Clothes for the three-day trip were packed the night before we departed. On the day of the trip, we would get up early to prepare. Mother made sandwiches in case we got hungry while on the road. She put ice and water in a large jar to insure we would not be parched during the trip. I was warned that there would be no stops, so I should prepare for the trip accordingly.

The travel from Fayetteville to the Arkansas-Oklahoma border was not very exciting. I had been to Siloam Springs several times to play different sports, so I was familiar with the landscape. However, I always got a thrill when I saw the “Welcome to Oklahoma” sign and started noting that most cars had Oklahoma, not Arkansas, license plates. And Oklahomans seemed to drive different kinds of cars than I saw in Arkansas.

As we rolled on the two-lane road through different cities, I carefully pronounced the unfamiliar name of each city and looked around for any distinguishing features. I would study the passing billboards, whose ads differed from those on billboards in the state from which I came

After some time intently watching the new scenery pass, I would lie down on the back seat to rest my eyes and think about what I saw.  But not for very long.  Soon, I would again be staring out the window, looking for evidence revealing the character of the place we were visiting.

The trip seemed to last almost beyond endurance, but I would calm myself by counting down the miles to Tulsa by spotting the mileage road signs. Finally, we were on the edge of the big city and faced the task of negotiating its unfamiliar streets to find the house of Ruth and her son Wayne. With some twists and turns, some wrong directions and corrections, we would find ourselves outside their house. 

Then the adventure really started. In truth, almost everything we did in Tulsa was an adventure for me. Even going to the grocery store was fun. It was much bigger than those in Fayetteville and seemed to have exotic goods (even different kinds of candy) unavailable to us at the Fayetteville Safeway or IGA. For example, one year my mother bought crackers IN A TIN CONTAINER, not the usual disposable box. We used that container to store crackers for decades and it probably can still be found in the attic.

Wayne, my Tulsa cousin, during the 1959 vacation 

Wayne and I had fun, even though he was a couple of years younger. During one of the trips, we cajoled our parents to take us to an amusement park that had rides I usually saw only in the Fall at the Washington County Fair. We rode several of them until our allotted allowance ran out.  Another time, we spent an hour or so riding the escalators in the downtown JC Penny store. That was my first ride on an escalator and I could not get enough of it. Still another time, we toured the Tulsa Zoo, my first time in a zoo. I was impressed by the peacocks.

Invariably, we went to at least one Oilers baseball game. The Oilers were the Cardinal's AA farm team in the Texas League, and we always hoped to see some future St. Louis stars at the beginning of their careers. My dad was excited, in dress pants, snapping gum, and smelling of Old Spice as we took off well before the game’s start to watch batting practice and get good seats behind the plate, protected from foul balls by screens. We would buy a program, and I would keep a scorecard of the action. Usually we would leave the game in the 8^th inning to “beat the traffic,” but would listen to the final inning in the car on the ride home. The game usually ended just as we pulled in front of the house.

My dad with ducks at the Tulsa Zoo, 1959

It was at an Oiler’s game when I discovered I was nearsighted and needed glasses. My dad and Wayne could easily make out the numbers and letters on the center-field scoreboard. I couldn't  no matter how hard I squinted. Although I put it off for four or five years, I eventually yielded to the inevitable and got the glasses I needed. I think my batting average would have been higher and I would have made fewer errors in American Legion baseball if I had gotten the glasses sooner.

Ruth and Wayne, plus Crybaby, their over-sized wiener dog, were always welcoming and generous hosts. Ruth would cook what seemed like a couple dozen eggs and three dozen pieces of bacon for breakfast, then scold us for not eating it all.

Wayne was a collector and always had some exotic collection of things that I did not have, such as plastic toy soldiers. I enjoyed playing with the collections; plus we could always find an interesting game to amuse ourselves.

Time would fly when we were driving the broad, busy streets of Tulsa, and the vacation would be over much too quickly. After eating one of Ruth’s mammoth, tasty breakfasts, we would repack the car, take the sandwiches provided for a snack, and refill the jar with water and ice.  After a quick check of the oil and air pressure of the tires, and a warning to me that we would not be stopping on the drive back, we were headed to Arkansas. Usually the car trunk was a little fuller, and I had some new things to fiddle with in the back seat.  

The trip back to Fayetteville was much less interesting than the trip to Tulsa. Typically, I would lie down much of the time in the back of the car, think about what we had just done, and wait for time to pass. The vacation seemed a distant memory when, as if by instinct, I would raise my head in time to see the “Welcome to Arkansas” sign.

Pioneer Tales: My First Deer Hunt

Arkansas Echo

Pioneer Tales
February 9, 1894

I want to also tell a small hunting adventure that did not happen to me here in Arkansas, but in Missouri where we were for eight years before we came here. In that area at the time, the deer were not rare and whoever was a good shot could have deer meat through the entire year.

Now, I had a cornfield that lay fairly high on a mountain. From the corn, I had made, as was the practice there, corn stacks and had placed them together in round corn shocks. One left them standing there as long as he wished or until he had time to shuck the corn.

One day I came there and saw to my horror that most of the corn shocks had been rummaged through, a few were even ruined. Instantly I thought that the pigs had broken out, but after a closer inspection I saw that deer had been there. Wait! I thought. There will soon be roasted deer meat.

Advertisement in an 1894 issue of the Arkansas Echo
A.G. Linzel & Son, 110 East Markham St., Little Rock

I went out toward evening with my rifle and hid myself in a corn shock and waited in case the thing should return. I lay there two, three, even four hours on the lookout, but still nothing wanted to show itself. Soon I became bored and had decided to take a break, when I thought I heard something sniffing and blowing. And as I looked in that direction, a marvelous deer came very cautiously to the corn shock next to me. Here he stood still once again, sniffed around again, and since he did not notice anything suspicious, he began to root through and eat the corn.

I carefully stuck my weapon out and aimed. But damn and blast! What is that? I was shaking all over and I went blind. I could have boxed my ears. I have many times stood in a thick rain of bullets and not flinched, and here in the face of a dumb deer, I got buck fever.

I pulled myself together enough that I was able to take aim and pull. And bang, a shot, and the deer takes off. That serves you right, I heard a voice in my head say. It is not possible that you hit him. But I must have hit him because as I looked more closely at the spot, I saw blood, or as it is called in hunter’s Latin, sweat.
Since there was a bright moon and it had recently risen, I was able to easily follow the trail and noticed that it had lost much blood.

It had made it over the fence and then was gone into the thick woods. Here I lost the trail and returned home sullenly, with the intention of following the trail as far a possible the next morning.

The following morning a young neighbor boy came at about 10 a.m. to the house and asked me if I could loan him my wagon and a horse for an hour. He did not at first want to answer the question “why?” But then he said that he had shot a deer up ahead and that he wanted to haul it home in the wagon.


Advertisement in an 1894 issue of  the Arkansas Echo
Edmund Craig, & Co, 414 East Markham St, Little Rock

Confound it, I said (since everything was immediately clear to me): “Bill, you are lying. You did not shoot that deer! You only found it!” The boy was red up to his ears and quickly admitted it.

I told him that the previous night I had shot the deer and that he probably was lying not far from the fence. I went with Bill and, sure enough, as I had surmised, it lay hardly 200 yards behind the fence where it had collapsed and died.

Since it was the usual practice to give the finder a portion of the booty, I divided the deer with Bill, but I kept the hide and antlers for myself. I had to soon remove them from my sight because they reminded me every time I saw them of my “buck fever” that I had on my first deer hunt.

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

Introduction to the Pioneer Tales

This pioneer tale is one in a series published in 1893 and 1894 by the Arkansas Echo, a German-language newspaper in Little Rock. The stories are intended to show the challenges and adventures facing German-speaking immigrants when they came to settle in Arkansas. So far, the following posts have introduced the Pioneer Tales and provided translations of most of them:

Pioneer Tales of Arkansas' German Immigrants (background of the newspaper series)
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/05/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german.html

Arkansas Echo, November 3, 1893. THE GOOD OLD DAYS? http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/05/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german_17.html

Arkansas Echo, November 10, 1893
MERRY MÄT, OR A TRIP TO THE BATHS, Part 1
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/05/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german_21.html

Arkansas Echo, November 17, 1893
MERRY MÄT, OR A TRIP TO THE BATHS, Part 2
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/05/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german_31.html

Arkansas Echo, December 1, 1893
A JUICY ROAST--OR--WHO WANTS TO EAT WITH ME?
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/06/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german.html

Arkansas Echo, December 8, 1893
ANOTHER PIECE ABOUT "AUGUST" --OR -- LONG FENCE RAILS
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/06/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german_08.html

Arkansas Echo, December 22, 1893
HOW FRANK, WITHOUT POWDER AND LEAD, ONCE SLEW A MAGNIFICENT DEER
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/06/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german_10.html

Arkansas Echo, December 29, 1893
ERNST'S BAD LUCK
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/06/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german_17.html

Arkansas Echo, January 5, 1894
THAT'S THE WAY ITS DONE IN HUNGARY -or- A PERSON WHO WILL NOT ACCEPT ADVICE CANNOT BE HELPED
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/07/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german.html

Arkansas Echo, January 14, 1894
HOW ONE CAN LOSE ONE'S WAY IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/09/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german.html

Arkansas Echo, January 19, 1894
BILL’S TRIP TO THE MARKET
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2011/10/pioneer-tales-of-arkansas-german.html

Arkansas Echo, February 23, 1894 and March 2, 1894
JOSEPH GLANZMANN'S STORY OF GERMAN-SPEAKING IMMIGRANTS
SETTLING NEAR ALTUS, ARKANSAS
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2012/10/pioneer-tales-joseph-glanzmanns-story.html

Arkansas Echo, January 26, 1894. THE WAY YOU PUSH THINGS, SO THEY WILL GO (OR, YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW)
http://www.eclecticatbest.com/2013/01/the-way-you-push-things-so-they-will-go.html


All Rights Reserved

The Vienna Airport is a Mess! (But Not for Long, I Expect)

When I arrived at the Vienna International Airport (VIE) in April, I was surprised to see signs directing me to march through the old baggage claim area to new baggage carousels several hundred yards away. Even more surprising, when I went through the doors from the baggage claim area to the arrival area, I recognized nothing: everything was new. The old Vienna arrival area had disappeared, replaced by a sparkling new building.

After some momentary confusion, and a quick look around, I noted that the new arrival area is curved and narrow, as was the old one, but it also has new stores and restaurants, a nifty new arrival board, better lighting, and improved access to the trains/trams that take travelers into the city.  I found out later that the new arrival area can be as congested as the old one was, but its amenities, including a Spar grocery store and an assortment on bakeries and places to eat, make it gemuetlich.

Here is the new arrival area. The nifty digital Arrivals Board makes
up a large portion of the wall toward which people are facing. 
Travelers exit the door on the right.  They are met by people who
stand outside, separated from the exit doors by a barrier.

Unfortunately, the sidewalks, roads, and parking lots outside the arrivals hall are a mess, resembling the tumult of a busy street in downtown Shanghai, with cars, buses, taxis, and pedestrians converging uneasily in a small area. Also, the outside walkway is saturated with cigarette smoke and exhaust fumes: not a nice welcome to Vienna. This area is not a place to linger.  Nevertheless, it has one improvement: new bus stalls with digital signs providing helpful information about the destination of each bus and its departure time.

Viewing the airport again a couple of weeks later, when returning for the flight out, I found that the construction underway at the airport makes access to the departure halls confusing.  Signs point the way to departure halls 3, 2, 1, and 1a.  Choose the correct one if you can. Hall 3 is not connected directly to halls 1, 1a, and 2. If you need to get from hall 3 to any of the other halls, you must leave the building and find an obscure entrance.

Departure hall 3 is new; it is the second floor above the new arrival area. This hall hosts Austrian Air and its partners. It has a new configuration in a sleek, clean high tech building.

Other airlines use the old halls in another building. To know where your airline is located, you need to find a directory of airlines that lists the building and counter numbers used by each one.  (These directories are posted near entrances.) Fortunately, the Sky Team airlines (Delta, Air France, KLM, and others) are located together in Building 1.  

As with Delta Airlines in major US airports (including Seattle), the Sky Team area has baggage drop-off counters for travelers who have checked in, either on-line or at kiosks in front of the Sky Team check-in booths, and want to check their bags. Unfortunately, this system did not work too well at the Vienna airport because many confused or malicious travelers, without boarding passes, used the baggage drop  counters as check-in lines. The time required to check in those travelers greatly slowed down the folks who had checked in and wanted simply to leave their bags.

Of course, most passengers without boarding passes would not get in the baggage line if some airline agents were around to assist them to use the kiosks to check in or to direct them to check-in counters. Surprisingly, I did not see a single Air France agent assisting in this way. (Because Delta does not operate in Vienna, and my Delta tickets were for Air France code-share flights, I cannot blame Delta directly for poor airport check-in operations).

With an early morning flight, I spent the night before my trip from the Vienna Airport at the NH Hotel (overpriced high-rise tourist hotel, with pretentions of being more), which is located in the airport complex. Last year, the NH was directly across from the arrival area. Now, it is a block up the street from the new arrival hall.

Staying at the NH, I had some time to look around the new parts of the airport and to figure out how I would get to the Air France check-in early the next morning. Without this rehearsal, I likely would likely have had a difficult time finding my way to the Air France counters at 5:00 a.m.

 

Looking around the airport, I noted that the old arrival hall is now mostly a hole in the ground, though sledge hammers were working throughout that afternoon to dismantle it.  The fencing around the old arrival hall construction site takes up a lane or two of the main road going to chief airport exit and entrance. Because many departing and arriving passengers have to cross this busy narrow street to get to and from parking decks (the airport has several of them), they slow or stop traffic on this crucial road.  At many times of the day, traffic on this road is congested.

Caffe Ritazza lies across the arrival hall from the doors
exiting the baggage area. The restaurant stretches over a long
area and has eclectic (at best) furnishings

Going to a restaurant in the arrival hall at about 7 pm on a Sunday night, I was astounded by the huge crowd that had assembled around the doors that passengers use to exit the baggage area. Large numbers of people milled around the narrow area between the curved barrier that sits a few feet from the exit door and the shops. Many in the crowd were drivers with signs bearing the names of a passenger they were supposed to meet. I didn’t envy them the task of identifying their passengers amid the throngs of people exiting baggage area.  Though the arrival area is new, it appears already to have a congestion problem at peak times. 

While the chaos was disconcerting, I did notice two nice things about the new arrival area.  It has better places to eat, and it has a new, well-marked passageway to the S-bahn and the express train going to the city. In the old arrival hall, it was difficult to find the S-bahn if you didn’t already know where it was.

One remarkable thing about the Vienna International Airport is its neighborhood. Within a short walk to the airport terminal are three high-rise office parks providing space for businesses that need quick access to the airport. Also, it has a multi-story building occupied by Austrian Air. Around the attractive office buildings, parking decks holding about 23,000 automobiles have been constructed. The area is also serviced by banks, restaurants, a grocery store, and some retail stores – all outside of, but a short distance to the airport.

Unlike airports in major American cities, the Vienna Airport is not only a transportation center, with easy access to the city by a regional train (S-bahn) and buses, it is also a business and economic development center. In a few years, the airport will have a link with the new Vienna Hauptbahnhof (Main Train Station), and travelers arriving by air will be able to easily catch trains for trips to other Austrian cities and European countries. This new transportation dimension should make the business centers at the airport even more attractive to some firms dependent on air and train service.

Right now, the Vienna Airport is a mess, but the huge investment that Vienna and Austria are making to create modern transportation centers, and to surround them with high rise office buildings, will likely pay economic development dividends for the country long after the airport has been modernized for the coming century. I look forward to seeing the renovated airport when it is finished.