MY STORY

Page two

Next, during those young years, I well remember the town of Chamois, which is some miles East of Arrow Rock and also on the Missouri River. We lived in the parsonage which was two stories and I well remember a door opening on a porch to the North and how the snow would blow into the hall way and into the bed rooms. One of the most important thing I remember in this town was, one time he was holding a meeting and he invited a catholic Priest to attend one night, and he did attend. In those days that was quite a feat. It was in this town that I remember attending a show on a river boat. These show boats plied up and down the river. It was here too that I recall many people bringing us Rock Sturgeon and Catfish which they had caught in the river.

And from Chamois we went to Bunceton, Cooper Co., not too far from Chamois and close to Jefferson City the state capitol. It was at Jefferson City that we all traveled to, that we attended the Ringling Brothers Circus. It was here that I learned to swim. I had to because some of the older boys shoved me over a bank and I scratched my side on a limb on the way in, anyway I swam out on my own. I remember the old board walks, and the tent meetings and the many traveling shows. And I remember the little white church which had an old white haired former slave for a janitor and the sight of that old man always sitting in the back, I shall never forget.   Of course by now the older boys had all gone out on their own, Lessie was away too. Ferol was married now and she had a daughter, Vina. She had married a Rural Mail carrier at Niagua where we lived before we moved to Bunceton.

Going by now to the time we moved from, I don't recall the town, but we were going to Lincoln, Mo. by covered wagon. I recall that while crossing a bridge that one of the wagons lost a wheel nut and it was found just at the edge before we rolled into the river. That bridge is still in use and is just wide enough for one car to cross. The river is now an arm of the Lake of the Ozarks.

It was in Lincoln where I started to school. It was also where I received my crooked finger while trying to run my hand up a   rope going the wrong direction and was lifting hay to the top of a barn.

From Lincoln we moved to Niagua and then later to Bolivar. there doesn't seem to be much recollection of the towns other than the fact that Niagua was very small and in Bolivar I remember that I had my first ride on a merry-go round.