Myrtle Louisa Stephens (1888 - 1967)

Myrtle Stephens. The girls gardened and milked the cows. Myrtle remembered an evening when she had gone to hunt the nest of an old turkey hen who was out in the woods. Myrtle stalked the hen till the sun went down, and only then remembered that it was past suppertime. She ran home and out to the summer kitchen. The summer kitchen was a large shedlike room separate from the main house and screened. It was used for cooking and eating during hot weather to keep from heating up the living and sleeping quarters. When Myrtle got there it was empty except for Molly who was cleaning away dishes. The family had eaten and it was evident that they had eaten everything. There was nothing put back for Myrtle and she realized that she hadn't even been missed. The long oilcloth-covered table had an equally long bench on each side of it, and when the benches on each side were settled with brothers and sisters, one little girl could easily be forgotton. Myrtle felt like crying, and Mollie looked so sorry. Then Mollie said, "I have something special for your supper." She took Myrtle out to the spring house where crocks of milk and butter sat in cold water in box-like troughs. The water flowed thrugh the troughs through short pipes and out of the spring house into the cow's water troughs outside. Mollie filled a tall glass with milk and lots of rich cream. Then she dipped a cup into another crock which was filled with moist dark brown sugar that Dan had made from his own sugar cane. Usually the sugar was used in pumpkin pies or to sweeten bowls of corn meal mush for breakfast. Then Mollie got two cold biscuits that had been left over. She cleaned off an end of the table and put Myrtle's supper of creamy milk, lump of brown sugar and cold biscuits on the table and sat in her chair at the end of the table right beside Myrtle on the bench. And while Myrtle ate they talked. There was seldom a chance to talk to Mollie except to say things like "Ma, I cut my foot!" or "Ma, Albert hit me!" But that evening they talked about the colt Baxter was breaking, about Novie's new baby, J.D., and about when Myrtle could wear her hair "up like a woman's instead of in a braid down her back." Myrtle had started out feeling forgotten and unloved that supper time, but ended up remembering it all her life long as the finest supper she ever had. Myrtle was a worker--and a fighter. Her life was not an easy one but she met most challenges with her chin up. She married Frank Kitchens when she was 18 and he 27. He was a man who always believed the grass was greener over yonder. They moved to a different job and a different house every year or two. Frank worked as a blacksmith, a railroad brakeman, a farmer, a ranch-hand, and a miner. They lived briefly in Oklahoma, then in Texas for 12 years, before setting out in 1921 in two covered wagons for a homestead in New Mexico. The wagons were fitted with overjets, which sat on top of them, fastened on firmly with wooden stakes set into metal fasteners on the wagon sides. Springs and mattresses fitted crossways in the overjets. The wagon beds were packed with household goods, a plow and hand tools, canned food, bedding and clothing. Frank drove a team of horses hitched to the front wagon. Myrtle drove the second wagon hitched to a team of small mules. A topless buckboard with a cage on it held a milk goat and a trailer with 12 hens and a rooster was hitched on the back. A keg of water on a shelf on the side of Frank's wagon and a hinged chuck box big enough for dutch oven, coffee pot, frying pan and dishes on the back completed the entourage. Myrtle remarked, "We were pioneers, 50 years late." They were on the road 21 days. One of Frank's horses got colic and died. A nearby farmer helped tow the horse off and bury him. He had a 4-year-old bay horse for sale. Frank offered the goat and chickens in trade. Not enough! Myrtle offered to add two new quilts she had made, and the farmer accepted. Only once during the three week trip across the Llano Estaco (staked plains) did Myrtle's courage fail her. A fierce electrical storm blew in. Lightning struck close -- jagged lines of blue and white in clouds and running along the ground. Thunder was deafening. Before the storm struck, Myrtle got the entire family into her wagon which had the two beds in it where the four older children slept. She said, "If we are killed, I want us all together." During the storm, at intervals she sat up in bed and prayed aloud, "O God, please save us. Don't let us die!" Frank would reach up a long arm and pull her back down, but she rose up again and again. Finally the storm moved on, rain fell in torrents, and all seven family members slept, crowded together. They awakened next morning to bright sunlight making raindrops sparkle in the grass and wild flowers, and a meadowlark singing in a mesquite bush. They took five years to "prove up" on the homestead at Spur Lake, about 100 miles west of Magdalena, New Mexico. It consisted of 160 acres at 7,000 feet altitude. No one could make a living on it farming. Frank worked each summer for the Forest Service or the county road crew. One year the family went to Springerville, AZ, and managed a 20-room hotel and dining room. Myrtle's 6th and last child, Robert Franklin, Jr., was born there. They moved to Las Cruces, NM, in 1928 and made it their permanent home. They ran a boarding house for college students for several years. Frank, Jr., enlisted in the Navy and was stationed in San Diego. After Pearl Harbor was bombed, Myrtle and Frank moved to San Diego. Ovie lived there at the time. Frank. Jr. was stationed in North Island as an ordnance instructor for a year. Myrtle got a job with Consolidated Aircraft. She was lead woman for her assembly team. Frank kept a large rooming house for service men and their wives. They saved enough money during the three years there to build on to their house in Las Cruces. Myrtle had bought an acre and a 3-room house before they went to San Diego. They added on until they had five apartments. Frank died of a stroke in 1946. Myrtle lived another 21 years. She ran a nursery school for two years, managed her apartment house, taught Sunday School classes and enjoyed her children's visits and many friends. During those years she suffered a heart attack which left her incapacitated for two months. Several years later she had a stroke which left her paralyzed on one side. The doctors told her that she might regain the use of her leg if she could raise it from the bed, a little each day, until it strengthened. She strove mightily to move her leg. The pain was so great that tears ran down her face as she worked at it. Eventually she was able to walk again. A day came when, without notifying anyone, she called a taxi, went to the bank and then shopping. She called the taxi then and went home. She said later, "That was the proudest day of my life." Three months later she died at home, in her sleep, at age 79.