Early Days in the Ozarks (Volume 4)

 

Over the Back Fence

Early Days in the Ozarks

#4

by

Vicki L Bishop

 

This week, I would like to share an essay by Ethel M. Plunkett from the 1969 Dixon Centennial celebration publication.  The front of the book is dedicated to “The Past, Present, and Future Citizens of Dixon, Missouri.”  I know that there are several of you who also have a copy of this book that includes this essay.  However, I felt that there are a lot of new residents and younger generations that may not have had the opportunity to read this precious piece of local history.   I hope all citizens of Dixon will take the time to read this well-written essay that tells us about how things used to be.

 

Early Days in the Ozarks

Life in earlier days amid the Ozarks was meager and often grim.  Food was limited to what could be produced on the land.  Each farm home had its small flock of chickens, usually as varied in color and species as a crazy quilt.  The eggs from said flock were treated as nuggets of gold because with the returns from them were purchased such items as sugar, coffee and a bit of “chawin tobaccer.” Cooks were even known to omit eggs from corn bread except on holidays in order to accumulate eggs more readily.

Fortunately the woods and fields yielded with berries of different varieties and in abundant quantities.  These were industriously gathered by the women and children and from every home, when these fruits were in season, were wafted delectable odors as they were canned or made into jellies and jams.  One might add that blackberry cobbler continues to remain a food specialty of the Ozarks.

The only form of refrigeration was natural springs, and the location of this source of fresh water determined where many farmhouses were built.  Some sort of box or spring house was built just below the mouth of the spring and here were kept the dairy products.  With the cool water constantly flowing through, cream, thick and golden, formed on the crocks of milk, and butter remained sweet and held its molded form. 

A trip to the spring was to a child, sheer delight.  It afforded him a chance to wade in the murmuring stream, whose bed was covered with colorful stones and whose banks were lined with over-hanging fern fronds.  There was also a zesty water cress to be nibbled at, which only heighted a young appetite for the meal ahead.  These trips must be made before and after each meal and often over rugged paths.  Springs have a way of being tucked back in rough secluded terrain to fulfill their natural purpose, instead of for man’s convenience.  If the harried housewife sometimes pressed her husband into service to fetch the butter and milk, he did not complain at the task.  Instead he emitted his gratitude in the form of a lusty, melodious whistle, that he should be so favored by providence in this phenomenon of nature.

The meat supply consisted of pork, augmented by wild game and fish, which were plentiful and varied.  The call of the wild turkey was an ordinary, though pleasant, sound, and many an unsuspecting gobbler provided holiday fare for special dinners.

Sanitation left much to be desired, and because of this, food was only cooked in warm weather as required to prevent spoilage.  One visiting minister was said to remark that some of the best fried chicken he had ever eaten, had met him on foot, a short time previously.  Houseflies were combatted with little success, because many homes could not afford screens.  Sticky fly paper was the only means of dealing with them; then later came fly traps, and poison paper.  In summertime when the table was laid for a meal plates were always inverted so this household pest would not contaminate them.  At meal time two older girls would be assigned, one to each end of the table, shooing away the invaders with leafy branches or clean dish towels.

These courageous people did their best for the health of the families that conditions would allow and with available methods.

Because the mode of travel was slow and the miracle drugs were unknown, illness and death often struck with sudden swiftness before help could be summoned.  There were no telephones, and the family doctor would have to be notified by a messenger on horseback.  Then by the time the kindly doctor had covered the same route with this trusty steed, he often found that death had been a previous caller. 

Clothing was bought only when it became necessary and not because fashion trends decreed a change.  The women sewed their own dresses plus the children, plus all under-garments and sometimes coats and suits as well.  A pattern often went the rounds of the neighborhood, for sharing was one of the virtutes of Ozark life.  Shoes were the most precious of all apparel and must last a year for adults.  Hence it was necessary for teenagers to carry their shoes in warm weather until they were within sight of the church of school house before putting them on.  Rough stones in the road or path could work havoc with shiny new shoes. 

Despite the rugged life they led, these hill folks were a happy lot.  There was never time to be bored and furthermore; did not the Good Book state that man should live by the sweat of his brow?  Since God’s word was their guild and yard stick, they accepted this fact without question.  Each community had its own social life, and for them it was ample.  There was prayer meeting each Wednesday night at one of the homes.  This was attended by all members of the family, and those courting age paired off afterward for a lingering walk home in the moonlight.  Church services were held infrequently and often in schoolhouses.  Then, occasionally there were those protracted meetings which aroused so much fervor and sent shivers up and down the spines of the children.  These meetings drew crowds that reached out beyond the confines of a school district.  There were also fish fries held in the summer and spelling bees in the winter, and the annual social event of the summer, the FOURTH OF JULY PICNIC.  The picnic alone would provide enough material for a book, for decisions were often made concerning futures, and courtships were cemented at these colorful affairs. 

Life now amid these hills is less colorful and picturesque, but far easier, for prosperity has come to the Ozarks.  The log cabins and tar paper shacks have been replaced by attractive, substantial homes, complete with all modern conveniences.  Country dwellings may look as attractively dressed as their city cousins and often do.  Every family has at least one car, so with greater mobility, social horizons have widened.

The young people leave home in ever increasing numbers to institutions of higher learning, returning to take their places or responsibility at home or elsewhere.  Thus parents realize a fulfillment in being able to accomplish for their children, what in many instances could not be done for themselves.  The young generation looks ahead to a future when ills will be cured and wrongs righted.  Let it not be forgotten, however glorious the future may be, that the forefathers laid a secure foundation of fortitude and hope and endurance.   

The years have brought a change in living and in the pace thereof, but in the natural beauty of the Ozarks remains unspoiled.  The spring-fed rivers and streams, clear and cold, wind their way along banks lined with stately trees, one of the most beautiful being the sycamore.  Colorful bluffs rise steeply from the rivers on the one side, dotted with cedars, redbud, dogwood, and hard maple, but predominant are the oaks.  On the opposite side of the streams lie the fertile valleys, with deep soil that produces lush, green crops.  The winding country roads that lead one over hills and across valleys are a never-ending delight and often just around a bend is the road or at the crest of a hill, bring into view a landscape, so breathtakingly beautiful that it is enough to send the most sluggish artist scurrying for brush and palette.  A deep blue haze envelopes the entire Ozark landscape, softening and enhancing the picture as a wisp of a veil sometimes makes a homely lady beautiful. 

To the occupants of this scenic region, both those who have inherited it by birth and those who have claimed it for their own through adoption, may none forsake the God-given duty and privilege of protecting this heritage of beauty. 

Ethel M. Plunkett

(1902-1984)

 

Until I see you next time—Over the Back Fence.

 

Dixon School Building.  According to the Centennial publication as well as the date on the top gable, this structure was constructed in 1905.  Date of demolition is unknown.