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A Depression Boy's

Journey To

Become A

21st Century Man

THE LIFE AND TIMES OF FINAS WADE "JOE" HORTON

By F.W. "Joe" Horton

~ As narrated to his daughters Marcia and Rosemary ~

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Table of Contents

CHAPTER 1: FAIRFIELD YEARS (1921 - 1939) ........ 3

CHAPTER 2: NAVAL YEARS (1940-1952) ............ 18

CHAPTER 3: CAREER YEARS (1952 - 1979) ......... 41

CHAPTER 4: RETIREMENT YEARS (1979-2012) ... 49

EPILOGUE ............................................................ 56

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CHAPTER 1: FAIRFIELD YEARS 1921 - 1939

My name is Finas Wade Horton. I was a child of the Great Depression during the 1920’s-1940’s of the Twentieth Century in America. I was born on February 8, 1921, at home like everyone else at that time. I was the third son born to Isaac Fred Horton (11-11-1895 to 8-13-1948) and Velma Estelle Lambert Horton (9-2-1897 to 3-18-1922). No one knows why I was named Finas, and I never met another person

named Finas. I never liked my name, and was grateful to be nicknamed “JOE” when I was in the Navy. My two older brothers were Charlie Fred Horton (6-15-1918 to 6-14-1983), and Robert Durwood Horton (7-29-1919 to 3-7-2011). We lived on a small farm three miles north outside of a small east Texas town called Fairfield, population 1,021. The Hortons in Freestone County, Texas, had migrated to Texas from Tennessee in a covered wagon during the Nineteenth Century.

My Daddy sharecropped for my Grandmother Helen Talley Horton who owned the 200 acre plot of land Daddy farmed. My Mother, Daddy, and we three brothers lived in the house with my Grandmother who had inherited the land, when my Grandfather Isaac

Whatley Horton had died, years before. My Mother, Velma Estelle, died when I was about a year old. My Mother's sister, Grace, was married to Walter Freeman and they wanted to adopt me when my Mother died, but Daddy would not agree.

My mother was the second of four girls born to Charlie Lorenzo Lambert and Mittie Lambert: Mattie (b.1897-died in childhood), Velma Estelle (b.1898 -died at age 24), Grace Mae (b.1899 -died at age 99), and Ella Amanda (b.1902 -died at age 15). Grandmother Mattie died young. Charlie, having 3 girls to raise, then married a lady named

Susan Imena Hicks, whom I always called Granny Lambert. They had six children: Charlie ("Bud"), Bernice, Franklin ("Frank"), Garland, Dick ("Brother"), and Verna Ruth. When Imena's brother Britten Hicks and his wife Florence died, they took two of their boys in as wards: Barney and Leslie. After Charlie L. Lambert (8-13-1873 to 1-13-1919) died, Granny Lambert raised these children and the boys farmed the land. Their six children are my half Aunts and Uncles. Aunt Grace was my only living

maternal Aunt. The few times we visited Granny Lambert’s house it seemed like children were everywhere. Granny Lambert used snuff all her adult life, yet lived to age 88 (5-27-1878 to 6-16-66). I remember she used her snuff bottles to line their outside walk.

Wedding Photo of Isaac Fred Horton and Velma Estelle (Lambert) Horton circa 1915

Young Velma Estelle Lambert

Granny (Imena) Lambert's old house

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We three brothers shared a bed in my Grandmother Horton’s three-bedroom house. My parents slept in one of the other bedrooms, and my Grandmother slept in the third bedroom. I don’t recall many things about those early years. One memory I do recall was that we three boys had to help Grandmother up the ravine between her house and my Aunt Willie’s house by pushing on her back when she went up the hill to visit her daughter, Willie, about half a mile away. In those days, everybody walked everywhere they went, because no one owned cars except for rich people.

We lived very close to the line between two school districts. One school was still a one-room schoolhouse, and my Daddy

did not want us to go there. The other school was in Fairfield, but it meant we had to walk to school three miles into town, and walk home three miles back every day, no matter what the weather was like. My brothers, Charlie Fred and Durwood, stopped going to school when they were about twelve. There were no laws requiring how long a child had to stay in school in those years, because farming was more important than education at that time. I also was going to stop going to school the year I was twelve. I had failed Sixth Grade mainly because I did not study, since I did not plan to go back. After all, my brothers and Daddy had only Fifth-Grade educations, and no one thought much about continuing school. An educator named

Mr. Elliott Peevy took an interest in me. He was the Fairfield High School Principal, and also taught Math. Mr. Peevy was also the basketball coach and had watched me play basketball at recess with the other boys. Mr. Peevy came out to our house the year I was twelve, and said he had missed me on the first day of school. I told him I wasn’t going to go back to school, but planned to farm like my Daddy and brothers. Mr. Peevy told me I had sports talent, and a good mind. Mr. Peevy convinced me to go back to school, and because of Mr. Peevy’s interest in me, I

finished High School. I was the first person in my family to get a High School Diploma. This completely changed my life, and was a turning point for my future.

I remember the first day of First Grade. I had never seen crayons or glue before and tasted them. Most kids tasted them except for the rich kids who lived in town who had already experienced crayons and glue. All thirty-one children in my graduating class knew each other from the First Grade through the Eleventh Grade. There was no Twelfth Grade at that time. We all had terrible nicknames for each other. I was called “Simp” because of a school play in First Grade. I was Simple Simon in the play and was called “Simp”, not Finas, the rest of my school years. Another boy got a worse nickname that first day. The teacher said she thought she smelled a dead rat. One of the little boys had soiled himself and smelled awful, and another child quickly pointed him out, saying "Here's your dead rat, Miss Mary." He was stuck with the nickname "dead rat" from then on. Bullying is not a modern

Charlie Fred (left), Durwood (right) and Finas (seated)

Mr. L. Elliott Peevy (later Dr. L.E. Peevy)

Finas age 6

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problem. Occasionally, I skipped school throughout the years and was truant. This was common in those days, just as it is a problem in schools today.

When I was five years old, my Daddy married again to a woman named Ida McAdams. Ida McAdams was a redhead, and very pretty. This second marriage was a surprise to my brothers and me, as my father had not discussed it with us before the fact. Daddy and Ida had three children together: Curtis, Marseline, and Herschel. They were half brothers and half sister to us. Daddy and Ida were married five years, then Ida and her three children left, and the marriage was over. I never knew exactly what had

happened. [If Curtis or Hershel had sons this branch of the Horton line may continue,

but I do not know their history. If they had no sons, then I am the last man to carry the Horton name in this branch of the Horton family.]

By that time, my Grandmother Horton had died. Grandmother Horton’s land was inherited by my father and his six siblings: Sam, Rob, Ada (female), Walter, Lemma (female), Willie (female), and Isaac Fred (my Daddy) who was the youngest. My Daddy’s six brothers and sisters wanted to sell Grandmother Horton’s land because each one wanted their part of the money from the sale. Therefore, Daddy and we three boys moved in with my Daddy’s sister, my Aunt Willie Barger, who had lost her one child at birth and had no other children.

Aunt Willie and her husband, Will Barger, owned a 120 acre piece of land that adjoined Grandmother Horton’s land. Will Barger had farmed his land, and was also an accomplished blacksmith. There was coal on the back part of his land which he used to create the intense heat needed for his forge. Many years into the future, all the land we grew up on would be strip-mined for that valuable coal. Most people in the area did not retain their mineral rights when they bought the land, and this would forever change the land I knew as a child. Strip-mining ruins the surface of the land. It is never the same.

After Will Barger died, Aunt Willie (age 56) needed someone to farm her land. It was at that time that we moved in with her. My Daddy farmed the land and Aunt Willie cooked for us, washed our clothes, sewed our clothes, and did household chores. Charlie Fred and Durwood had to help in the fields with the crops. Because I was the youngest, my job was to help Aunt Willie with the many household chores.

Household chores consisted of: chopping wood for warmth and cooking on the stove (no electric stoves), hauling water in buckets from the well, and tending the garden and yard. There were also chickens, guineas, and pigs to feed. We had six cows to be milked and fed. Each cow took about fifteen minutes to milk morning and evening. Eggs had to be

Isaac Fred Horton and Ida McAdams Horton

circa 1926

Aunt Willie (Horton) Barger by rosebush in later years.

Left to right: Finas, Durwood, and Charlie Fred at Grandmother Horton's house for unknown occasion.

Smokehouse behind boys.

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collected daily and butter churned, too. One of my regular chores was to take the beds apart, carry them outside. and treat them with kerosene to kill the ever-present bedbugs. I was also taught how to sew, mend, and make quilts. Aunt Willie loved flowers, and I learned to appreciate and enjoy flowers because Aunt Willie always grew them. We even had a rosebush of pink roses. This began a life-long love of growing plants that has continued throughout my life, especially roses. We ordered our seeds from Burpees, and sometimes from Sears and Roebuck, for our garden. Washing was done once a week in a big black pot on the wood-burning stove. Water was heated, and shavings of soap from our homemade lye soap were added. Then the clothes were soaked, before being rubbed on a washing board to get out

the dirt. After the clothes were rinsed in clean water, they were hung outside on a clothesline to dry. Finally the clothes had to be pressed with a heavy iron (non-electric) that was heated on the wood-burning stove repeatedly. We each had only had two sets of clothes. One set was to wear, and one was to be washed. We usually did not wear underwear because we could not afford those. No one wore shoes, except in winter, because we could not afford those either. Most of my classmates, boys and girls, did not wear shoes to school.

Aunt Willie’s house was not as big, or as nice, as Grandmother Horton’s house. Her house also had only three rooms and a kitchen, but they were smaller. In those years, I had to sleep with Daddy in his bed, because Charlie Fred and Durwood had grown larger and there was no longer any room in that bed for me. Aunt Willie slept in the third bedroom. There were cracks between the boards of the walls, and no insulation. Rain and snow could come down through the roof of the house. Neither house had indoor plumbing, toilets, or running water. There was no electricity either. Men and boys used the woods for bathroom purposes, and cleaned themselves with soft leaves, or old corncobs. Only Aunt Willie had an outside toilet, called an 'outhouse', for her personal use. She used newspaper and catalog pages for her cleaning needs. My father never owned his own land, but was always a sharecropper. He would get a loan from the bank in town to buy seed for the coming crops. At harvest time he repaid the bank, only to borrow again when he needed seeds for the next planting season. We raised cotton, corn, maize, peanuts, potatoes, sweet potatoes, sorghum cane & hegira (a specific type of maize used to feed animals). We also had a spring vegetable garden by our house for additional food to eat.

We had animals for work and for food. There were two mules, named “Coaly” (obviously black) and “Kit” (a large yellow mule) used for plowing and pulling a wagon. We also had a bay mare named “Pet”, who was used for riding, pulling the wagon, and occasionally for producing another mule.

Aunt Willie's flatiron as it looks now.

Daddy's plow, painted by Pug.

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We had two dogs, named “Curly” and “Lucky”. They were big brown dogs with short coats weighing about 60 pounds each. After Curly died, I got a puppy from a friend that I thought would get big too. I named the puppy, “Fang”, after reading the book White Fang by Jack London. I read this book every school year, because it was a big favorite of mine. Fang never got to be as big as I had expected. He was small and short-legged, with soft, scruffy, reddish-brown hair and stand-up ears, and only weighed about twenty-five pounds. He was too short to see the cows, but if I called them in to be milked, I could hold Fang up high and he would see them far off. When I put Fang on the ground, he would take off through the weeds to bring them home. I could see the weeds move as he cut his way over to them. He was a little dog with a big heart. We also had a barn cat named “Kitty Gray”. When I did the daily milking, I would shoot some milk at Kitty Gray for her to enjoy. We usually raised two pigs each winter for meat. One of the pigs became sort of a pet one year, and would not let me pass the barn unless I gave him an ear of dried corn. Sadly, he was butchered that winter. I even made a pet out of an orphaned squirrel one year, and he would come down the tree branch for a treat I would give him. Durwood did not know about my pet squirrel, and one day shot him to be eaten by our family. A few stories of our youth still make me laugh. When I was about ten or twelve years old, we three brothers were fooling around in the swimming hole in the creek. Our Daddy did not know we knew how to swim, but we had taught ourselves. Once when we were playing around in the swimming hole, Durwood kept pushing me under the water. I could not catch my breath, and he did not realize I was drowning. He finally realized I couldn’t come up for air, reached down, and pulled me out. That was a close call! One time, we three brothers were hoeing a weed patch out of the cotton field, and a Black Racer snake, about five feet long ran out of the grass. Durwood began to chase the snake to kill him with his hoe, but the snake stopped short, and Durwood passed him. Now the snake started chasing Durwood who was hollering, and Charlie Fred and I began to chase them both. My Daddy saw the two of us running after Durwood with our hoes raised over our heads, and all three of us were hollering for different reasons, but he could not see the snake. He thought Charlie Fred and I were going to kill Durwood for some reason. Daddy ran as fast as he could to stop us, but by that time we had killed the

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snake. Black Racer snakes are not venomous, but they will chase and viciously bite people if threatened. This snake had chased Durwood simply because it felt threatened. One hot summer day, we followed bees to a hollow tree and found it filled with honey. We got the ax and chopped the tree down for that rare, sweet treat. I got stung so many times by bees and ate so much honey, I was really, really sick and vomited repeatedly. I have never been able to enjoy honey since that day. When I was around twelve, I decided I was interested in learning to be a taxidermist. I wrote off for mail-order lessons on how to prepare dead animals to be mounted. After several lessons, I realized this was not for me. I did not have the money to buy the tools and equipment necessary for that job. Even then, I was already thinking about how I could earn a living without being a farmer. One time I was so unhappy I ran away from home. This only lasted until it was dark and I was hungry. Home was the only place I knew, so I returned. Doesn’t everybody run away from home at one time in their youth?

When Durwood and I were teenagers, we had three half-grown calves because cows will not keep giving milk unless they have a calf. Therefore, every year, the milk cows were bred by a neighbor’s bull and had a calf. The half-grown calves were kept nearby so the cows would continue to give milk until it was time for the next year’s breeding. Once after milking the cows, we put a rope on one of these half-grown calves and took turns

getting on his back for a ride. Our Daddy would have forbidden this behavior, if he had known about it. As soon as the calf was released, he would run and buck. He always managed to throw us off quickly. One time we hitched a calf to a small cart we had built, and when the calf ran off, Durwood was tossed out of the cart, and the cart turned over, and Durwood disappeared into the bushes. I was afraid he had been killed. I ran down to see if he was alive, and found him, but the reason he hadn't gotten up was because he was laughing so hard. When you live in the country far from town, you make up your own entertainment. A neighbor of ours had a male donkey (a jack) that sometimes came to eat grass beside the road by our house. If we saw him, we ran to ride on his back. He would fall down deliberately so we could not ride him. We would grab his tail and twist it so the pain would make him get up. Boys can be so naughty! Late summer to the beginning of winter was a busy time on the farm for everyone. In late summer the cotton burst out of the bolls and had to be picked by hand. My brothers and I helped pick the cotton. Then the cotton was transported by wagon to

Finas years later at Sandy Shield's home, showing you never forget how to milk.

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the nearest cotton gin to be sold. (I was baptized in the cotton gin water tank after giving my life to Jesus when I was about eight). The ears of corn filled out about that same time and also had to be gathered by hand. Quite a lot of corn of several varieties was grown and harvested since it was used to feed the horses, mules, cows, hogs, turkeys, and chickens, as well as for household use for the coming year. I clearly recall helping shuck corn that had been brought to the house in a wagon after it had dried on the stalks in the field. My Daddy would carry a half-tow sack of corn on his shoulder three miles to town to the mill. There it was ground up for many uses with a portion going to the mill for payment. When my Daddy brought the milled corn back home, we three brothers sifted it to get the bits of husk and cob out. We fed the dogs and other animals the husks that were sifted out. Neither dog food nor stock food existed in those days. The cleaned and sifted cornmeal was stored and used to make cornbread for the family to eat, even for breakfast. There was no money to buy flour. Our family also raised sorghum cane for cane syrup, which we used for a sweetener in cooking. When the cane was ready, we chopped it down by hand, put it on a wagon, and took it to a cane mill to have the juice pressed out of the cane. At the mill, the extracted syrup was boiled down in a large tank with a wood fire under it for a few hours, until it was thick and brown. We usually brought home ten or fifteen gallons of finished syrup. Some syrup was kept by the cane mill as payment. My family also grew and harvested peanuts and potatoes to store for the winter. When these two crops were mature, they were plowed out of the ground by our mules pulling the plow. We used a pitchfork to pick them up and shake the dirt off. After a few days of drying, the peanuts were hauled to the barn for storage, until future need. Many days after I got out of school, I grabbed a handful of dried peanuts, cracked the shells and ate them, because I was always hungry. Potatoes were stored in a variety of ways to prolong their usefulness. After the peanuts and potatoes were harvested, we let the pigs go into the fields to dig up and eat anything we had missed. This helped fatten the pigs before they were killed for food. The job of hog killing stands out in my mind even though it only occurred once a year. In November, a hog or two would be kept in a small pen, approximately ten by

ten feet, to be fed for a few weeks to harden up the meat on them. Harden-up meant getting a lot of the fat off so the meat was better. When the weather turned cold enough, usually between Thanksgiving and Christmas, it was hog-killing time. Jobs for hog killing started with carrying a pair of two-gallon buckets of water several times to fill Aunt Willie's large black pot that we usually used to wash our clothes. The water had to be

drawn up from our well and carried to the pot. Aunt Willie's old black pot used for cooking and washing, still in use today to grow flowers.

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When the pot was full of water, the next job was to chop wood and build a fire around the pot to get the water scalding hot. We also dug a hole in the ground to put in a barrel at about a forty-five degree angle. While this was being done, we also laid a number of poles side by side to form a kind of platform on the ground. The platform was to be used for butchering the hogs. Then the big barrel was filled with the scalding water from the black pot. Usually arrangements had been made with a neighbor to come over and assist us in the hog-killing activities. When everything was ready, one or two hogs were killed by the men. A dead hog was slipped into the barrel full of scalding water halfway up the hog’s body and left there until the hair on the hog’s hide became loose. Then the hog was pulled out, turned, and the other half was lowered into the barrel. While the second half was soaking, one man would take a sharp butcher knife and scrape against the hog’s hair to get it off. This was quite easily done if the hog had been soaked long enough. If more than one hog was killed, the whole process had to be repeated. Meanwhile, others started butchering the first hog. The hog was cut into front leg quarters, back leg quarters (hams), bacon from the sides, ribs, and so forth. If the hog was quite fat, we cut off the fat and cut it into small pieces. When the black pot was no longer needed to boil water, the remaining water would be removed and the pot was then used to cook the small fat pieces slowly. Grease from the fat made lard, which was stored for future cooking. Soap was also made later using lard and lye. The rendered fat would harden and turn white when chilled. The remaining skin scraps in the pot would harden into “cracklings” which were good to eat. We also put cooked pork sausage patties into glass jars and let the fat rise to the top to seal the jars. These could be eaten in cold weather and not become rancid. When the day’s work was done, the neighbors who had helped were given some of the fresh meat to take home to their families. Later, they would ask us to help them butcher their own hogs, and we would bring home some fresh meat for our family. Families helped each other this way. No one bought meat of any kind from stores. The freshly cut hog meat was quickly packed down in salt. Later it was re-packed in a product called “sugar cure”, even though there was very little sugar in it. Some bacon was usually stripped from the sides of the hog, and then the remainder of the body meat was ground up for sausage. The ground sausage was packed in the

cleaned pig intestines and also into small, long, stitched sacks. After the meat lay in the sugar cure for a while, it was hung in a smokehouse with a small fire lit and smoking underneath the hung meat. Smoking continued for a number of days, and the fire had to be kept small and smoking. This would finish curing the pork for winter use. There was no refrigeration in those days. Hog killing was an occasion for some fun and a chance to visit with neighbors and friends. There is an old saying: “We used everything on the hog except the squeal!” Nothing was wasted. My Daddy had to walk to town for various reasons as I was growing up, and he would always tell us three boys, “Don’t ride the mules, and don’t shoot the shotgun.” It was an L. C. Smith

Original family shotgun that we three brothers fired whenever

Daddy was away from the house.

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double barrel 12-guage shotgun with a full choke, still in working condition today. Of course, the minute he was out of sight and hearing we immediately did both of those things. Fortunately, none of us were ever hurt though I do have a pellet in my left ring finger, as I write this in my nineties. That pellet most likely came from the shotgun. Doctors have asked me how I got that pellet in my finger, and this is the only thing I can think of to tell them. When Durwood and I were in our nineties late in life, we laughed and laughed about how maybe he had shot me. We had a well in the yard that was ninety feet deep, which is a long way to haul up water in a bucket. One year Durwood and I decided to dig a new well. In those days, people tried to find water using a divining rod. We tried that ourselves, but never found water that way. The new well turned out to be only sixteen feet deep before we reached water, and was in a grove of hickory nut trees, which was the clue that there was probably water there. We lined the new well with bricks available around the house from a previous well. This made getting our water much easier, because it stayed filled and we only had to lower buckets six feet down to draw out

fresh water. In the days of carrying water to a home for use, this was quite helpful. A metal dipper always hung on a nail by the well, to get a drink right when a fresh bucket of water was drawn. There was also a water bucket and dipper kept on our porch. One time when we were coming back from working in the field, we heard splashing in the well. We looked in and saw a dog swimming in circles inside. After getting a ladder down into the well, Durwood climbed in and tied a rope around

the dog. When I hauled him up and untied him, he took off in a hurry! Unfortunately, this meant we had to draw countless buckets of water out to remove the water that had been contaminated by the dog, but it filled up again rather quickly and we made a latch to keep the lid on for safety. When I checked on that old well forty-five years later, it still had good sweet water. After my brothers no longer lived with us, I made a type of shower by that well. I punched some holes in the bottom of an old leaky bucket and hung it from the limb of a tree with wire. To shower you needed to draw two buckets (without leaks) full of water. You poured one into the hanging bucket to sprinkle down on you while you soaped up with homemade lye soap, and the other bucket was set to one side to pour into the emptied bucket when it was time to rinse. I was a teenager by then and no longer wanted to bath in a tub in the house. Before this makeshift shower, water had to be drawn from the well, carried to the house, bucket by bucket, and then heated on the wood-burning stove, using wood that had been chopped and carried into the house. When heated, the water had to be poured into a twenty gallon washtub for our once-a-week bath. The water would get colder and dirtier with each successive person who used it. Using the new “shower”, I could get clean faster even though the water was not heated. This did not matter because the water in the well was a constant temperature all year, and therefore was not too cold in winter nor too warm in summer.

This is the actual dipper that hung by our well.

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I played sports until I graduated from Fairfield High School in my class of thirty-one students. I had returned to school thanks to Mr. Peevy’s encouragement, therefore, I was stronger and taller than the other boys being a year older than most of them. This made me a better athlete. There were neither school cafeterias, nor school lunches available in those days. Most kids brought a sack lunch from home. My family had so little money and food, I generally had no lunch at all. Sometimes I carried one biscuit or cornbread left from breakfast with a hole poked in the middle and syrup poured into it. I spent the majority of my lunch time playing basketball with other guys on the playground. Food served in our home was simple fare, and we raised everything we ate. There were turnips, string beans, peanuts, eggs, milk, buttermilk, butter (which we churned ourselves), corn, and chicken occasionally. To eat chicken was quite a chore. First you had to catch the chicken using a long stick with a metal hook to catch the chicken’s leg. Then the chicken had to be killed by wringing his head off. Next the chicken had to be scalded in a pot of boiling water to loosen the feathers. All the feathers were plucked, and then the chicken had to be eviscerated before it could be cooked. Eviscerate means cut open the abdominal cavity and throw away the intestinal tract. We then threw every other part of the chicken into a pot to cook. This included the liver, heart, gizzard, and even the chicken's head. I remember taking a spoon to scoop out the chicken’s brains from the skull to eat. We even ate the chicken's feet, foot pads, and bony legs. Nothing was wasted during the Great Depression, when food and money were so scarce. All that was left was the chicken’s comb, beak and toenails which were given to the dogs. Supper was sometimes leftover cornbread broken up and covered with buttermilk. We had buttermilk, butter, and fresh milk from our cows. I still like to eat cornbread and buttermilk occasionally. Pork could be eaten after the winter slaughtering time. Squash, cucumbers, sweet potatoes, Irish potatoes, and beets were also eaten. Any extra food we could not eat immediately was canned and processed in a hot water bath for thirty minutes in glass jars, because there was no refrigeration or freezers to save it. We also had fruit trees, mainly pear, plum, and peach. Wild blackberries and dewberries were available in season. We also ate persimmons and mulberries. Putting food on the table was hard work. A typical breakfast for my family was cornbread, sorghum syrup, buttermilk, and pear preserves. On the rare occasions when we had flour, we sometimes had biscuits. Nobody stopped for lunch in those days, because they were either working in the fields, or at school. Supper was commonly leftovers, plus turnips or maybe greens, or other vegetables in season from our garden. Dried black-eyed peas were often served after simmering in water on our wood stove all day (there was no electricity available). We ate what people today would turn up their noses at, because there were often weevils in the black-eyed peas, or in the corn, and so forth. If you are hungry enough, you eat what is served even with weevils. Dessert was extremely rare, and I never had a birthday cake until I married many years later. Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner was usually baked chicken and dressing with vegetables. There was no money for dessert, because sugar was too expensive. No one got Christmas presents like children of today. We were too poor for non-essential things like toys. I usually got an orange or apple in my stocking, and

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maybe a few assorted nuts. I only remember one toy in all the years I was growing up: a small toy tractor. I do not remember much laughter or fun growing up, just lots of hard work. Since my own Mother had died long ago, it was hard on us all. Aunt Willie was not very happy either, because she worked from daylight until dark every day. The phrase “Get up with the chickens” was true in the days when there was no electricity. When you are extremely poor like we were, there is not much to laugh about. I played football, basketball, track, and baseball at school. Track specialties of mine were: shot put, discus, running the mile, and running the quarter-mile. My favorite class in high school was History, which would later become my college major. Football did not come to Fairfield until I was in Tenth Grade, but when it was time to get our football uniforms, I did not sign up to play. The Superintendent called me into the office and asked why I wasn’t signed up for football. I told him I did not have the money to buy my football shoes. He told me they were going to tear down the old tennis courts to make a parking lot since there was no place for cars at the high school. I was given the chance to work after school and tear down the old tennis courts to earn the money to get my football shoes. Therefore, I did get to play football the two years it was possible for me in Fairfield, Texas.

Finas # 38 in middle of top row in 1937 football team photo (they often misspelled my first name as Finis)

1

~ 14 ~

Before I could do any of the sports activities at the High School, I had to run home three miles and do my chores. Then I would run back to school another three miles to play sports, either there in Fairfield or in another town. Mr. Peevy drove his Model A Ford car filled to capacity with our seven-member basketball team to other towns, because no one had transportation nor school buses. After the games, Mr. Peevy would take us

somewhere to have a meal before heading home. Some of us didn't have any money to buy a meal. Mr. Peevy told us to order what we wanted, and we could leave the money on his desk later, if we were able to pay him back. For ten cents, I could get a large bowl of chili and add all the ketchup and crackers I wanted, so it made a good meal. Some boys ordered a hamburger plate for ten cents. Kids left their money on Mr. Peevy’s desk, so no one but that kid

1936 Team - Finas #5 back row far right

1937 Team - Finas #5 second row far left

Finas # 38 in middle of top row in 1938 football team photos

~ 15 ~

knew if the money had been repaid. I worked hard to earn the ten cents to pay Mr. Peevy back as soon as I could. We had no gymnasium in Fairfield for other teams to come play us, so we always had to travel for basketball games. Once we had to change into our basketball uniforms in the back seat of Mr. Peevy’s car because we were running late for the game. That was a lot of laughs for all of us.

After we got back to town from any sports game, I had to walk home another three miles in the dark, because there were only dirt roads and lanes without lights in the country. My dog Lucky would be watching for me, and when I whistled, he would meet me to go through the dark woods to our house late at night. I always felt better after Lucky was with me. Sometimes I would be as late as one o’clock at night getting home after a basketball game. As soon as I came in the front door, my Daddy would tell me to go milk the cows, because they could not wait until morning and it was my job every day. Daddy hated to milk cows and said it was my job. One time a man offered us a hundred dollars for Lucky because he could herd pigs, but we refused. One hundred dollars was a fortune at that time, but we couldn’t give him up. Sadly, a bootlegger ran clean off the road into the ditch just to kill Lucky on purpose, not many weeks after we refused the money for him. Why do people do things for no reason other than meanness? I was very upset because he was a good dog. One bonus for being in high school athletics were the letter sweaters/jackets which were given out in February each year, and the last year of 1939, Mr. P.D. Brown, the Fairfield School Superintendent gave out the sweaters/jackets. When he came to me, he said: “Finas Horton, the boy that has enough sweaters to cover a bed.” I had earned a total of 4 basketball and 2 football sweaters/jackets during high school.

Because I needed money for various things related to my sports activities, I began to raise turkeys in the spring of each year of High School. My Mother’s sister, Aunt Grace, generously gave me one gobbler and two hens. In return, I would help Aunt Grace find the nest of some of her turkey hens in the spring. Most domestic turkeys at this time were brown, not white like domestic turkeys today. Our turkeys were always around our yard just like the chickens, and were used to being fed each day. Turkeys only lay eggs in the spring.

Each spring I would follow my turkey hens until I found their nests in the woods and

The turkey hen with poults, shown here, are like the ones I raised.

1938 Team - Finas #5 seated second from left

~ 16 ~

carry the eggs back to our house. I would build a pen about ten feet by ten feet out of persimmon tree poles, and cover the top with more poles to a height of two feet. I made a nest for the turkey hen in the center of the pen, and put her eggs in the nest. Surprisingly, the turkey hen would go sit on her own eggs in the pen in captivity. When the baby turkey poults hatched twenty-six days later, they were raised in the pen for several days and then roamed with the hen wherever she wanted to take them. If the poults were not raised in a pen, they would wander away from our farm. Each hen usually had about ten to twelve turkey poults. A man would come through town to buy turkeys just before Thanksgiving. The money I earned selling my turkeys enabled me to buy two shirts, two pairs of trousers, and one pair of shoes and socks. This was the only way I could get the clothes I needed for school and sports, because Daddy did not have any extra money.

By the time I was in high school, my brothers had long since moved away. Durwood left home in his middle teens after a fight with Daddy. He asked me if I had any money I could loan him to leave. I gave him the last five dollars I had from selling turkeys. Durwood repaid that five dollars with interest years and years later. Charlie Fred worked for my Uncle Walter Freeman, husband of my Mother’s sister Grace, doing anything Uncle Walter needed. Durwood tried to find work, but times were hard, and he eventually began to haul moonshine

liquor for men desperate for money in those hard times. This was dangerous work, because this was during the years of

Prohibition when liquor was outlawed. Moonshine was made in homemade stills from ingredients easily available like corn, peaches, or apricots. After distilling took place, it was put into quart glass jars and sold. The homemade moonshine was usually colorless, and therefore sometimes called “White Lightning”. Durwood almost got caught running moonshine a few times. Once, I even helped him to quickly hide his load of moonshine in the hay in our barn. Our Daddy never knew this, or he would have dealt severely with us. Daddy was a very severe disciplinarian and would have whipped us. Our local Fairfield Sheriff came out to our house, and told Daddy that he knew Durwood was running moonshine, and that it was only a matter of time until they caught him. The Sheriff’s advice was to tell Durwood to stop or end up in the jail at Huntsville, Texas. Durwood decided to go to Houston to look for honest work. He began working for the Fairmaid Bakery of Houston. He spent the rest of his life working in bakeries. Durwood did not get drafted into the Navy until 1944, because he was working as a welder in the shipyards in Houston. After he was drafted, he was sent to the naval training base in San Diego, California, where they assigned him as a baker because he already had experience. At the end of WWII, he was honorably discharged. In addition to welding, he was working part time for Continental Bakery in El Cajon, California, when he was drafted. After the war years, he became the supervisor of the bread-baking division of Continental Bakery in El Cajon, California, near San Diego. Durwood retired with full benefits from that same bakery. He and his wife Ida had continued to live in El Cajon, California, until his

Durwood about the time he was running moonshine.

Durwood Horton U.S. Navy 1944

~ 17 ~

death in 2011 from cancer. He had one child, daughter Charlotte LaVern Horton (born on September 20, 1939).

My oldest brother, Charlie Fred, was drafted into the Army in 1944, but was soon sent home before finishing army boot camp. This was because his kneecap would pop out of place easily when running. This was the result of an injury sustained in childhood when he fell on a rock. He was discharged for medical reasons and only served a few weeks. Charlie Fred worked for the Texas Highway Department running heavy equipment for highway maintenance until his retirement. He also raised cattle during that time and then continued ranching in Fairfield, Texas, until his death. Charlie Fred died at age sixty-five from a heart problem. He and his wife 'Pug', never had any children.

When I graduated from High School, I was eighteen years old, and had decided long before that to leave Fairfield. Daddy came into my bedroom, which I had to myself since my brothers had left. He was surprised to see me packing a suitcase. He asked me where I was going. Because we had never talked about my future, he had no idea I had been planning to leave Fairfield

for years. He told me that he thought I would be staying to work the farm with him, though he had never discussed it with me. I told him that I felt there was nothing in Fairfield for me, and I did not want to be a farmer, so I was going away to look for work. Durwood and my cousin Bill, who had come to see me graduate, had agreed to take me back with them to Houston. Daddy never did understand my ambitions and dreams for a future away from Fairfield.

Charlie Fred Horton U.S. Army 1944

See photo price written at the top - 3 for 5 cents!

Finas in sports Letter Sweater 1939.

Last year at Fairfield High (age 18)

Finas Wade Horton (age 18)

High School Graduate

~ 18 ~

CHAPTER 2: NAVAL YEARS 1940-1952

My brother, Durwood, and my cousin Bill Piercy, had come from Houston to see me graduate from High School. I had walked down the aisle with a girl on each side. This was done this way because in my class of thirty-one graduates that year in 1939, eleven of us were boys and the rest were girls. This was quite an event in our family since I was the first to ever graduate from High School. I left Fairfield, Texas, with Durwood and Bill that very night after graduation ceremonies. I felt I had no future in Fairfield. On the way back to Houston we had a car wreck with a cow in the road. The cow looked dead and our car was a mess. The cow we hit had rolled over the top of the Model A Ford car. Bill’s brother-in-law had to drive up from Houston to give us a tow back there. In Houston, I found a job at Fairmaid Bakery where Durwood worked making bread. One time we both got a terrible sunburn over the weekend at the beach in Galveston, Texas, but we still had to wear white t-shirts in the bakery, which was hot and sweaty with no air-conditioning. Every evening for days, when we peeled off our t-shirts, a layer of skin came off too. We were both miserable, as you can imagine, as sweat poured across those open blisters! I worked for three months at the bakery before having an emergency appendectomy for an inflamed appendix. A nice M.D., named Dr. Potter, did the surgery the day I met him because I was in such critical condition. Dr. Potter talked to me about joining the Navy while I was under his care. He told me that if I volunteered for military service I could choose which branch of the military I wanted to be in. He said there would soon be a National Draft of all young men because war was looming for America with Germany and Japan, and then I would not get a choice. I could not pay him for my appendectomy surgery at that time, but promised that I would do so when I got some money in the future. He told me not to worry about it. I ended up paying him six years later after I married, but I kept my promise. He was surprised six years later when his nurse told him someone needed to see him without an appointment. He confessed that he didn't even remember me! I told him why I had come, and asked him how much I owed him. He told me he had no idea what to charge. He finally set a price of $75, which I gladly paid. I was unable to return to work at the Fairmaid Bakery because it was 1939 during the Great Depression, and they had not saved my job while I was recovering from emergency surgery. I walked the streets of Houston for two weeks without finding work, and finally called my Daddy in Fairfield to come get me and take me home. He traveled by bus, and we drove back to Fairfield in a Model A Ford car I had started payments on. I was only in Fairfield a week before I drove to Dallas looking for work. The only job I could find was loading paint buckets at Sears and Roebuck, but the five gallon buckets were just too heavy for me to lift right after surgery, therefore, I had to quit that job, too. While in Dallas, I tried to join the Marines, but they would not accept me because I was too tall, at 6’2”. Marine uniforms back then only fit men six feet tall or shorter. I returned briefly to Fairfield, and then drove once

~ 19 ~

again to Houston. Eventually, I volunteered to join the United States Navy on March 28, 1940. When I walked into the Recruiting Office for the Navy, Dr. Potter was there. Was this arranged by God? Dr. Potter turned to me and asked me if I was going to join the Navy, and I replied that I was. He turned to the hospital corpsman and said “Sign him up, I know him, and there is nothing physically wrong with him.” I gave Durwood my new Model A Ford

car, and he assumed the car payments. I was shipped out that same day by train from Houston to Naval Training Boot Camp in San Diego, California. This was my first train ride! As we crossed the continental divide, I sang that old song: “On top of Old Smokey, all covered with snow, I lost my true sweetheart from a courtin' too slow.” It only took twenty-four hours for the train to reach San Diego, California. We slept on the train in bunks, and food was available. There was no air conditioning, and the dirt and cinders from the train engine blew in through the open windows all over us. Upon arrival in San Diego, California, two Chief Petty Officers were waiting for the recruits. They told us to get on a bus, and we traveled on to reach the Naval Training Station. Upon arrival at the training camp, we were assigned bunks, and then lined up by height to be issued the correct uniform size. We had to get a burr haircut, take a shower, and put on our new uniforms. Each of us got two blue naval uniforms, two white naval uniforms, appropriate naval caps, and a pair of shoes and socks. We were served three meals a day, which included fish every Friday. I didn’t like fish and often traded my fish for other available items. I liked beans and potatoes, so I always got enough to eat. A normal training day at Naval Training Camp meant waking early at six o’clock, making up your own bunk bed, going to the bathroom, getting dressed and lining up for breakfast. Breakfast was over at seven o’clock, and then we marched to various places to learn a variety of skills: correct procedures to carry out orders, military discipline, swimming class, physical fitness training, running to increase endurance, and anything else the instructors thought we needed to know. I did well at Naval Training Camp, and I was lucky that the Chief in charge of my group was kind and understanding, unlike some of the other Training Camp Chiefs. Some guys were sent home because they were physically unable to do what was required, or were in some other way unsuited to the Navy. One day we went to a Marine Rifle Range near San Diego, California, for gun training. The guns we were taught to use were Springfield rifles. I qualified as Marksman, which is excellent, because I already knew how to shoot guns from growing up on the farm. Recruits were in Naval Training Camp for about six weeks. We were lined up one day into groups, though none of us knew why. Some recruits were later sent to Signalman School, others to Engineering School, Yeoman School, and various other training schools. Upon completing naval training, I was transferred to Naval Communication Signalman School in Toledo, Ohio. Though I was in the Signalman

Finas Wade Horton U.S. Navy Recruit -March 1940

Durwood and my Model A Ford car, after he assumed the payments.

~ 20 ~

group, I did not know this until we left San Diego. The six men selected for Signalman School, including me, traveled by train to Toledo, Ohio, and the trip took about two days. The other recruits and I slept on the train, and there were no stops. Upon arrival in Toledo, Ohio, we were met by a Chief Petty Officer. There were only seventy-five men from all over the United States who went to the Communication Signalman School. I never knew exactly why I was selected. We learned how to

send messages using flags from A to Z, and Morse Code using a signal light. Signal flags were used between ships because there were no telephones or telegraph to relay messages out over the water. Signal lights were used at night, if necessary.

As a young man, prior to being in the Navy, it seemed I never had as much as I wanted to eat. It was great to get three meals every day and dessert every day! That was a big change in my life. My appetite is still good today. Ice cream is still my favorite dessert.

One funny story from that time was about a girl I dated in Toledo, and on a whim, I had told her my name was Leon. One day, I was walking with friends, and she saw me and started calling: “Leon! Leon, why aren’t you answering me?” My navy buddies laughed a lot about this, because they knew Leon wasn’t my name. I told

Using semaphore flags: Kneeling men spell U.S. and standing men spell N A V Y (Joe far left).

Finas "Joe" Horton (seated at table - front left). The man to his left didn't like ice cream, so guess who always got a double serving?

Joe signals letter H.

~ 21 ~

them I would catch up with them later. I had to tell the girl that I would not be calling her anymore, because I had found out she was only sixteen years old. She was crushed, but I was glad that I found out when I did. I got a lot of teasing about being called "Leon" from my shipmates. You should never pretend to be someone other than yourself, if you want to stay out of trouble. Communication Signalman School was about four months long. After training was completed, we were sent to various locations. Six of us were sent back to Terminal

Island off the coast of California, near Los Angeles. I found out Wilbur Bailey, a Fairfield High School friend from the football and basketball teams, was on a ship in port called the U.S.S. California. I signaled his ship with my flags and made arrangements to go on liberty with him in Long Beach, California. Wilbur encouraged me to try to get assigned to his ship, because it would be fun to serve together. I put in for a transfer to the U.S.S. California, but it was denied. His ship left the next day for Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. Two days after the

ship’s arrival there, it was bombed by the Japanese in a surprise attack. Wilbur Bailey was killed. God had other plans for me, or I would probably have died with Wilbur. It was,

"...December 7, 1941 - a date which will live in infamy-..." - President F. D. Roosevelt. America was now at war with Japan.

On December 8, 1941, the six trained Signalmen in my group were transferred to San Diego, California, and we were assigned to DESTROYER DIVISION 70, which included U.S.S. Crane, U.S.S. Kennedy, U.S.S. Kirby, and the U.S.S. Crosby. The Destroyer U.S.S. Crane, where I was assigned, had been used in World War I, then decommissioned, and kept in reserve on the west coast of California. The U.S.S.

Crane - DD 109 was put back into active service on December 18, 1939, because of the threat of war with Japan and Germany. I served twenty-six months sea duty on the U.S.S. Crane DD 109 and the U.S.S. Kennison - DD 138 (Destroyer Division).

The duty of these destroyers was to patrol the 'three mile limit' of the Pacific Ocean along the area from San Francisco, California, down to our home port in San Diego, California. This meant protecting the west coast of the United States from our shoreline outward into the Pacific Ocean for three nautical miles. Destroyers were used for enemy submarine patrol, various training exercises, local escort duty, screening duty in amphibious exercises, and other related work. They escorted

Wilbur Bailey - My friend from Fairfield HS. Killed

aboard the U.S.S. California at Pearl Harbor (photo is from 1937 HS Basketball

team)

U.S.S. CRANE - DD 109

~ 22 ~

convoys, provided air and gun support for larger more vulnerable ships, and transported troops. Destroyers weigh about 3,000 tons and were about 300’ long (the length of a football field). During World War II, there were no telephones, or any type of telegraphs when at sea, so the skills of the Signalmen were the only communication connection between ships. About 120 men were aboard the U.S.S. Crane - DD 109 with me.

During this same time, the United States Navy trained merchant marine men who were not military men, but worked out on the ocean. One of our jobs when I was on the Destroyer was to teach them how to fire 5 ¼” guns at practice targets mounted on sleds pulled about 40 yards behind tugboats. We also taught them how to fire anti-aircraft

guns at windsock sleeves pulled by aircraft. The purpose of this was target practice for enemy encounters. This training was done because the Navy did not have enough men to patrol both the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans to protect America. The merchant marine men were then shipped back to the Atlantic Ocean, and placed on merchant marine vessels to patrol for submarines. Merchant ships were carrying supplies to Europe for U.S. Military forces, and the Germans were sinking U.S. supply ships. Therefore, these ordinary seamen needed to know how to protect themselves and their cargos. One day during training of some merchant marines, the First Class Gunner’s Mate in charge had a bet with me that he could not hit the target on the sled. I dared him, and bet him five dollars he could teach others, but could not hit the target himself. Naval personnel were not supposed to use ammunition themselves unnecessarily. But after merchant marine practice ended that day, he (quietly) lined up the target and gun and blew the target to pieces in one attempt. The Lieutenant in charge asked him why he fired the gun. His excuse for wasting ammunition was: he was making sure the gun was clear of ammunition. He said nothing to me, and I said nothing to him, but as he walked by I slipped him his five dollars. This was to keep us both out of trouble.

Previously my ranks were: Signalman , Signalman Petty Officer Third Class ,

and Signalman Petty Officer Second Class .

During this period of time, I received my third promotion to:

Signalman Petty Officer First Class .

U.S.S. KENNISON - DD 138

~ 23 ~

With this promotion, my pay was now $54.00 per month. The year was 1942. I was taught how to steer the Destroyer as part of my duties. I was usually the one who steered us into port. I was a good sailor and never got seasick. One time we were in a storm with thirty foot high waves, and the Destroyer was listing over sideways 45 degrees according to the our marine chronometer instrument. We would have sunk, but another huge wave struck us and straightened the ship up. The entire crew was seasick, even the Captain, and no one was able to do anything except for me and one other man. It was the worst storm I was ever in. One time our ship struck and killed a whale somewhere off the coast of California. I am not sure what kind of whale it was, but at least I was not steering. Often dolphins or porpoises leaped alongside the prow of the ship. Among other duties of a sailor at sea, each man was responsible for washing his own uniforms and bunk sheets. This could be done several ways. Most often buckets were cast over the side to get seawater to use. My preferred method for my trousers was to tie a rope through the belt loops and toss them off the back of the ship and let the wave action agitate them clean. Sailors who used this method, and forgot about them, found the bottom of their trousers beaten to shreds. I was careful and this never happened to mine. There was enough fresh water for a final rinse to get the salt out of our uniform and sheets.

Joe on his bunk aboard ship.

~ 24 ~

One time the U.S.S. Crane - DD 109 was dispatched to a small island off the coast of Baja California, because an American merchant ship had hit the island and was aground. Six of us got into a whale boat and crossed over from the Destroyer to check on the marooned men. It was night time and the sea was very rough; I signaled the U.S.S. Crane - DD 109 with a light (using Morse code) that we could not get the men off the island right then. We returned to the Destroyer, and the next day the marooned men had walked over to the other side of the island where we were able to rescue them. One day when we were at sea off the coast of California, I was on duty on the bridge and I looked out and saw a torpedo headed right for our ship. I sounded the alarm by shouting out, “Torpedo!” Fortunately for us, because it would have been too late to maneuver, the torpedo had been aimed too low and missed us. We located the submarine on radar and dropped depth charges. We never could confirm if we hit the submarine, and no debris was ever found, but at least we were not hit. Since there was a shortage of naval officers in the United States at that time, anyone passing a written test would be considered for the Naval Officers Program. The Naval Officers Program was called the V-12 Program and was in effect from 1943 to 1948. I took a test for the V-12 Program and waited for my score. You had to make a minimum score to get into the program. My Communication Officer kept checking for my score, but the departure time for the candidates for Officer’s Training School arrived, and there was still no word on my score. My Commanding Officer had me use my signal flags and request my score, because I needed an answer before the train left the next day. The test was never found, but they signaled a reply, and asked if I would accept the minimum score needed to get into Officers Training School. I agreed to this, and they approved my transfer to the program. I never did know what my score was, but I think looking back in time that God just made this happen for me. I joined the other sailors accepted for the V-12 Program the next day, and we rode a train from San Diego, California, to Fort Worth, Texas, where I attended Texas Christian University. Only 125,000 men were selected nationwide for the V-12 Program. I did not know where I would be placed in college until I got on the train. Later I learned that the Navy tried to send men to colleges close to their home town. A couple of weeks after arriving at Texas Christian University, I was given a two-day weekend leave. I hitchhiked home the eighty miles to Fairfield from Fort Worth. While walking down the dirt road to get home, I had to pass my Aunt Grace’s house, and she was hanging out clothes to dry. I told her I had been selected to go to college, which would be paid for by the Navy. I still remember the look of surprise and delight on her face about my wonderful news. This meant not only was I the first to graduate from High School in our family, but now I would be the first to attend college. I spent the next eighteen months at Texas Christian University in Fort Worth, Texas. When the train arrived in Fort Worth, all the naval V-12 Program candidates on board (including me) were sick with intestinal problems. We never knew if we had eaten bad food, had a virus, or what had happened. All we knew was we all needed to find a bathroom quickly. When our waiting Petty officers finally got us together,

~ 25 ~

we were put on a bus to the Texas Christian University campus. We were assigned two men to a dorm room, and my first roommate was Vernon Bartsch. College classes began, and I became acquainted with the other guys.

One evening it was my turn to be on Hall Duty. Everyone was supposed to be in their rooms studying. A guy named Sandy Shields came out of his room with a jug

to fill up with water to drink. By this time, Sandy and I had become friends. He was a short, funny guy, always laughing and making jokes. Everybody liked Sandy, and after serving in the Navy, he would go on to be very successful in sales because he was such a likeable guy. Sandy came by me at the duty desk, and I told him to go back to his room. He said I better shut up, or he would pour water into the fan running beside me. There were no air conditioners in any of the buildings at that time, only fans were available. I told him he wouldn’t dare, so he actually did pour the water into the fan. Water blew everywhere, and Sandy ran down the hall with me in hot pursuit just as a commanding officer was coming up the stairs. He stuck out his hand and caught Sandy who quickly quipped: “We spilled some water up there, and I am going to get

a towel to clean it up.” To which I added, "And I'm going to help him!" Sandy and I became the best of friends

and our friendship spanned the rest of our lives. Sandy’s parents lived near Fort Worth. His Mother was a full-blood American Indian, and both his parents were in the entertainment business, doing Vaudeville. Once, I milked his parents’ cow just

Joe and Sandy headed out on liberty.

F.W. "Joe" Horton - Back row second from left (circled).

~ 26 ~

to prove I could still do it. [see photo page 7] Sandy lived till we were both ninety. Sadly, Sandy died at 90, and I am still here. While at Texas Christian University, I played basketball and softball with other V-12 Program guys. When the basketball coach brought some scholarship players down, we made them look bad, so he said we couldn't play anymore.

One evening at T.C.U. we all went to a mixer to get to know one another. Included in the fun were boxing matches. I was selected to fight in the heavyweight division. I had a little experience from casual boxing matches with neighboring high school boys, held after high school basketball games. I had even had a punching fight with my Daddy’s brother, Walter, because he wanted to whip me when I was in

high school. I hit Uncle Walter in the nose and ran away, because I felt I was too old to be whipped like a boy any more. I also had

boxed with my brothers like most boys. Once there was a fight when I was on watch on the U.S.S. Crane, while we were in port. A big guy was beating up on a little guy and I yelled: “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” The big guy yelled back, “You look my size, why don’t you do something about it?” So, when I got off duty, we did have that fight and I beat him up good. Anyway, I was chosen to box for our group at the mixer at T.C.U. My opponent was a body builder with big muscles. He got into the ring, took off his robe, and rolled his muscles. Sandy, who was my second, yelled, “Joe, get out of the ring!” He probably weighed as much as 275 pounds, and I only weighed about 180 pounds. I decided the only way to win was to knock him down. I threw three left punches to his nose, and he began to bleed heavily. Then, I threw a hard right at him and missed. The referee stopped the fight and said I had already won because of the bleeding. I won a tiny set of miniature boxing gloves for winning the fight.

Other fun that I recall was going to have a beer with my six buddies. The V-12 Program did not include any extra spending money, so every week one of us would give a pint of blood for money, so we could all afford a beer. The usual comment was: “Whose blood are we drinking this week?” I managed to pass all my classes at T.C.U., and after eighteen months, in early 1946 all of us were transferred to The University of Texas at Austin, Texas. Now the guys in the V-12 Program were in the Naval Reserve Officers Training Corps (NROTC).

Left to right - Norton, "Joe", Crouch, Bartsch, Sandy (Red MacMichael - 6th buddy, taking picture)

Joe with V-12 Program at TCU.

Joe and Durwood having a friendly boxing match.

~ 27 ~

After arriving at The University of Texas, I began to have back problems. After suffering about six months, I was diagnosed with a pilonidal cyst at the base of my spine. I never knew why I got the cyst, but I suspect sitting on the ten inch steel oil pipes on the ships when I was off duty, might have been the reason. Whatever the reason, I now had a very painful cyst that made it impossible for me to sit or sleep without pain. (I have had back problems the rest of my life). Four surgeries were necessary to get all of the pilonidal cyst tissue, which kept growing back. After I had my fourth surgery for the pilonidal cyst, I was laying on my stomach in Seton Hospital, on 18th street in Austin, Texas,(Seton later was moved to 35th street), and the most beautiful nurse I had ever seen walked into my room to tell me she would be taking care of me. She was the Supervisor of Nurses in that section of Seton Hospital. On one occasion I asked her for a date, and she said nurses were not supposed to date their patients. I continued to ask, but never got her name other than “Speedy”. After I left the hospital, I continued to try to date Speedy, but did not know her real name. Finally in desperation, I called the Seton Hospital desk and asked for her phone number. They asked if I was a relative, and I lied and said “Yes, I need to talk to her.” This was a desperate attempt on my part, because I did not know where she lived, what her real name was, or how to get in touch with her. The desk clerk gave me her real name which was: Ferdel Spielman. She lived with her Mother on the corner of 34th Street and Tom Green Street in Austin, Texas.

I called Speedy and asked her for a date again. She refused me again, saying she already had a date. This went on for a while before our first date. Our first date was dinner and a movie. We dated for a period of six months, even though I knew she was the love of my life from the first time I ever saw her. Speedy was very busy with work, taking coursework at the University of Texas toward getting her Bachelor's Degree in Nursing, and an active social life with her friends. Speedy continued to date other men for a while, and I persisted in dating her, too. Finally on Valentine’s Day of 1946, under a large magnolia tree on 34th Street near her

home, I asked her to marry me. I had my arms around her in a car I had borrowed from a friend. A diamond salesman had come through my college

dorm during that time, and was taking orders for diamond rings for naval personnel. I wanted a twenty-five point diamond ring for Speedy. It cost a hundred dollars, which was a lot of money at that time when I only made $91.00 per month to pay all my bills. The ring salesman wanted me to pay before I got the ring, but I refused because different naval associates had borrowed things from me and never returned them for one reason or another. I had learned not to trust people’s promises. It took about one month for the wedding ring with the twenty-five point diamond to come in.

Ferdel "Speedy" Spielman Registered Nurse

Scott & White Nursing Graduate -1945 "The most beautiful nurse I had ever seen..."

~ 28 ~

The diamond salesman told me he had not been able to get a twenty-five point diamond. He had only been able to get a 33 point diamond, and he would sell it to me for the same price we had agreed on. Years and years later, near the end of her life, Speedy told me that when I asked her to marry me that day under the magnolia tree, she said a quick prayer, and asked the Lord “Is he the right one?” She said she heard God answer her in her mind saying, “Yes, he is the one.” Our wedding was on Sunday, June 23, 1946, at 3:00 P.M. at University Methodist Church in Austin, Texas. I wore my dress white naval uniform and Speedy wore a white candlelight satin gown she purchased. The gown, with chapel-length train, had a fitted bodice, with seed pearls edging a sweetheart neckline. Satin-covered buttons outlined the fitted sleeves. The full-length veil was caught in a Mary, Queen of Scots, headdress embroidered with seed pearls. She carried a bouquet of white carnations, and wore a strand of pearls, which was a gift from me. Two of our daughters, Velma Jo and Rosemary, would later get married in her wedding gown. The Matron of Honor was Feriba Saul, Speedy’s sister, and the second bridesmaid was Betty Verner, a childhood friend of Speedy’s. The Best Man was George Hopson, and the second groomsman was George McLean, both naval friends of mine.

Left to Right:

Groomsman -George McLean, Vocalist -Mrs. Hobson, Best Man -George Hopson,

Mr. & Mrs. F. W. Horton,

Matron of Honor -Feriba Saul, Bridesmaid -Betty Verner

~ 29 ~

My family came from Fairfield, Texas, for our wedding. My family members who attended our wedding were: my Daddy, Isaac Fred Horton, his third wife, Effie Horton, Pug Horton who was Charlie Fred’s wife, Aunt Beulah Horton, Aunt Bernice Lambert, Aunt Grace Freeman, and Aunt Grace’s daughter, Geraldine Hartsfield. Family members from Speedy’s side at our wedding were: her oldest sister, Feriba Saul with her husband Pete and their children Peter and Carol. Also, her brothers,

Kermit Spielman with his wife Lora, Kenneth Spielman, David Spielman, and of course, Speedy’s Mother, Leona Belle Blake Spielman. Speedy’s Father was

dead by that time. [Elmo Bruce Spielman had been killed at age 52 in

a train accident on Kelly Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas. He was coming

home from the air force base where he did civilian work during WW II. A

freight train was running late and ran into

the bus he was riding home on. Soldiers had to lift the bus off his broken body to

free him and six others. He lived two days with almost every bone in his body broken,

yet he was still conscious. Strangely

enough, his eyeglasses in his pocket were not broken. It was a painful, unexpected death.]

Leona Belle (Blake) Spielman and Elmo Bruce Spielman (circa age 35 years)

~ Ferdel's parents ~

Leona Belle Spielman's home at 400 East 34th Street, Austin, Texas. Photo taken after a rare Austin snowstorm.

~ 30 ~

Our wedding reception was held at Speedy’s Mother’s home at 400 East 34th Street and Tom Green Street in Austin, Texas. Daisies and asters were the flowers used at our reception. Approximately 50 people attended our wedding and reception. The wedding cake was white with white icing. The bride and groom on top were dressed as a sailor in a navy blue uniform and a bride wearing a nurse's cap topped with a veil. There were also tiny American flags on both sides of the bride and groom on the cake. The Groom’s cake was German Chocolate with coconut-pecan icing. We left after the reception that evening, and had our

honeymoon for only one day at the St.-Elmo-Tel in south Austin, Texas. We made our honeymoon short, because Speedy’s Mother was sick with gall bladder problems.

We called each other “Speedy” and “Joe” all our married lives, because we both hated our birth names of Ferdel and Finas. We began our married lives renting the garage apartment attached to Speedy’s Mother’s home. It was a very small one-room apartment about fifteen feet by fifteen feet. There was a bathroom in one corner. The summer of 1946 after our marriage, I started new work on a Bachelor’s Degree from the University of Texas at Austin, Texas. My major was no longer

Naval Science and Tactics, but had been changed to History/Social Studies. I had lost nearly 100 hours and had to start all over again on my Bachelor’s degree. I had been within three college hours of finishing my naval officer's degree. I had been told I could get married, and that my marriage would not

Snapshot of our lovely wedding cake, as described above.

As a student at UT, Joe became a devoted Texas Longhorn football fan (later Joe worked

as a stadium official on the student gate for 46 years).

Speedy outside the St.-Elmo-Tel.

Speedy, her Mother, Joe The newlyweds are preparing to depart

for their brief honeymoon.

Our one night honeymoon hide-away...

~ 31 ~

change my NROTC status by my commanding officer, but that turned out to be wrong. A new commanding officer took over, and said I could NOT marry before finishing the NROTC Program, so I lost my NROTC status after my marriage. I had to start my college degree all over again without funding from the Navy. This was quite a blow and shock to Speedy and me. We discussed what to do, and Speedy still wanted me to get a college degree. So, Speedy worked at the hospital, and I studied. My new college degree efforts were from 1946 to 1948. World War II was over in the fall of 1946. I was sent to Camp Wallace near Galveston, Texas, and was honorably discharged from the U.S. Navy. I entered the U.S. Naval Reserve in June of 1946 for a small salary, since I was no longer in the Navy. Money was very tight with me studying and only Speedy working. I was assigned aboard the U.S.S. Waldron for a Reservist cruise to Jamaica in the Caribbean Sea from September 7, 1947, to September 16, 1947. I came back from

Jamaica and continued simultaneous work on my Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees. We had moved, and now lived in a small apartment on Town Lake in Austin, Texas, in an area called Deep Eddy. It was a furnished apartment with antiques. The antique bed hit my head at night, because I was too tall and the carvings of pears and apples would hit my head as I moved. During this time, we took my brother Durwood’s only child, Charlotte, to live with us because her Mother couldn’t care for her at that time. Durwood couldn’t take her either, because he was in California. She stayed with us for about two weeks, and we adored the cute little girl with the darling soft voice and offered to adopt her. We had no children of our own yet. Charlotte’s Mother refused, and Charlotte was returned to her Mother’s care. Charlotte was about 8 years old at that time.

Our first child, daughter Marcia Belle Horton. was born on April 12, 1948. Marcia was born one month before I finished my Bachelor’s Degree from The University of Texas at Austin, Texas. I had accumulated a lot of Master’s Degree hours, as well. Daddy had married a third time to a woman named Effie Murphy. He was no longer a farmer and was living in Tyler, Texas, working on the railroad.

His job was to oil the wheels on the railroad cars. One day he was at work and had a heart attack. He was only fifty-two but had lived a hard life of constant work. Isaac Fred Horton lived from 11-11-1895 to 8-13-1948. I was always glad he saw me graduate from college, and get married. Lots of the Horton/Lambert family members came to see me graduate and get married. My Daddy saw my infant daughter, Marcia, only one time before his death.

Darling little Charlotte Horton. [Only child of

Durwood and Maurine Horton]

Isaac Fred Horton (age 50). Photo was taken the day of our

wedding 6-23-46.

F.W. "Joe" Horton UT Graduate 1948

(Outside 34th St. apt.)

~ 32 ~

To complete my college degree in History/Social Studies, I needed twelve hours of Spanish. This was a surprise, because I thought everything had been done. So, that spring of 1948, I had to struggle to pass the necessary Spanish requirement. I had a terrible time. Spanish was very difficult for me. Yet, it was standing in the way of graduation. I worked with a tutor who was the wife of a naval friend. I managed to barely pass Spanish. I graduated from the University of Texas at Austin, in May of 1948. I decided to continue on at The University of Texas and pursue my Master’s Degree.

One day on campus that summer of 1948, I happened to walk by one of my college professors named Hobb Gray. He introduced me to the man he was visiting with named Murray Fly. Mr. Fly was Superintendent of Schools for Odessa Independent School District, and he was looking for graduates to come teach in Odessa, Texas. He asked me if I was interested, and after discussing it with Speedy, I decided to go teach in Odessa, Texas. I had never really thought about teaching, but it seemed like God was pushing me that way, after I lost my naval officer’s career. I was being offered a job without even applying for it!

I left Austin after the second summer school session at The University of Texas to reach Odessa for the school year of 1948-1949. I rode a bus without air-conditioning in the August heat about twelve hours to Odessa to find an apartment for me, Speedy, and baby Marcia. A week later, after I found a place to live, I told Speedy to come with our baby. Speedy and Marcia flew out to Odessa on a small commercial airline that only had seats for a dozen people. I did not want my wife and a small baby on the bus all day in the Texas heat. To set up our life in Odessa, we needed a car. Someone at the school told me to talk to the man at the Dodge dealership in town, and he would work with me on setting up payments to start after I got my first paycheck. I bought a green Dodge in 1948, but I did not have money for gas yet. The car had just enough gas to take it home. We did not even have money to buy food until my first paycheck, but a small grocery store gave us credit until payday. I needed a haircut to start teaching school, and walked to a nearby barbershop. My barber was drunk and ruined my hair. The head barber, who owned the shop, fired my barber and told me he would try to fix my haircut the best he could. At least I did not have to pay for the haircut. What a way to start a job! The first school year of 1948-1949, I taught in Odessa Middle School teaching Seventh Graders Social Studies, Texas History, and Texas Geography. That first teaching year I thought I would be nice to the kids, and we would get along well. The opposite occurred, however, because I was a poor disciplinarian. I learned from

Outside our apartment in Odessa, Speedy is behind the wheel of our first car. It was a Dodge that we called 'The Green Hornet'.

She's smiling because I have promised to teach her to drive.

Mr. Murray Fly Odessa School Superintendent

~ 33 ~

that experience, and the next year, I did not let anybody get away with anything. I taught approximately 125 children each day. One day the Principal of Odessa Middle School asked me if I would collect lunch money for the Seventh Graders. I did this as requested, but it also meant I could have a free lunch every day. I continued to work on my Master’s Degree from the University of Texas each summer between school years in Odessa.

That first year in Odessa, Texas, I worked after school hours in the Odessa Middle School shop to make a coffee table from part of a crate that had contained a camphor wood chest Speedy’s mother had shipped to her from the Philippines. Her mother had stopped there while taking a trip around the world on a freighter ship, using money she had received as an insurance settlement because Speedy’s father had been killed in a train accident at work. The red mahogany shipping crate made a beautiful table. It has been over 60 years, and at ninety-one I still

have that table I made so long ago. It has easily held the weight of many television sets. I also made some lamps for gifts out of wild cholla cactus branches while we lived in Odessa. To do this, I cut the branches and threw them on the roof of

our house, and left it there a year while it

dried. Then I could carve out the spines, and run wiring through the hardened stem. My daughter, Rosemary. still has one those lamps. It still works great!

Cholla cactus lamp FWH made in Odessa on a doily Speedy crocheted. They are on a 100 year

old walnut 'piecrust' table that originally belonged to Speedy's Grandmother Blake.

Heavy solid red mahogany table Joe made in Odessa Middle School shop after work hours,

as a first year teacher.

My first class in Odessa, Texas 1948-49

~ 34 ~

The first two years in Odessa, I officiated for elementary football and basketball, junior high basketball, and I also played with the Bill Hale semi-pro basketball team for two years, at night. These activities brought in a little extra money.

The second school year of 1949-1950, I was transferred to Odessa High School, and taught the students United States History. My second child, daughter Velma Jo Horton, was born on June 2, 1950. That summer with a new baby, I taught Math in Odessa Summer School for extra money. Meanwhile, I did research to write my thesis which was needed to finish my Master’s Degree. My thesis was THE HISTORY OF ECTOR COUNTY. Ector County is where Odessa is located, and no one had ever done a book on its history. My thesis work

included approximately one hundred face-to-face interviews, and re-creating maps of the area. This was necessary because the courthouse of Ector County had burned down years before. I completed my Master’s Degree in History at the end of August, 1950, from the University of Texas. During that period of time, while finishing up my Master’s Degree, I had also earned enough extra hours to almost finish my Doctorate Degree. The next school year of 1950-1951, I taught World History at Odessa High School. Students had to build home projects that year, and one student brought a working guillotine that was so

sharp and effective, I asked to keep it for future students to see. We kept it up high, so no one would get hurt. When I left my teaching job there, another History teacher at the High School asked for it, but I made her sign a waiver stating that I had no further responsibility for it. It could easily have chopped someone's finger off!

Joe holds Marcia and Speedy holds Velma in Odessa, 1950.

Odessa Sr. High 1950-51

~ 35 ~

After the school year of 1950-1951 was completed, I was called back into active Naval duty, because the Korean War had started. It was June 11, 1951. I had signed up for the Naval Reserve years before to help our income, and now the call back to active service had come. This was an unpleasant surprise, but I was obligated to go. Velma Jo was only one year old. I packed up my family and helped

them move back to Austin, Texas, so Speedy and my girls would be near Speedy’s family if she needed help while I was gone. We purchased our first house at 1308 Harriet Court there in Austin, Texas. Speedy would show my picture to the girls and talk about me while I was

gone, but Velma couldn't remember me when I came back home. Anyone serving in the military can tell you how hard it is to miss out on family, and those precious first few years in a child's life can never be regained. I had been called back into active duty because I was a qualified Signalman First Class. During my service in the Korean War, I would pass the test for Chief Signalman, but when my new rank was approved, it was called Chief Quartermaster [also Chief Petty Officer]. During the Korean War, I was assigned to an oil tanker called the U.S.S. Taluga 62.

I served as their Signalman for 13 months from June 11, 1951 to July 28, 1952. Our job was to supply fuel to the ships of the naval units operating out of Sasebo, Japan, on the southern end of Japan. We met the Naval Task Unit at Hokkaido Island, near the north end of Japan, to fuel their ships for the Incheon Invasion of Korea under the United Nations with U.S. General

Douglas McArthur, as top commander.

Oil tankers like the U.S.S. Taluga 62 were about 553’ long, weighed 7,500 tons empty, and when carrying the maximum load of 146,000 barrels of fuel oil, could weigh as much as 25,000 tons. These oil tankers could move at a maximum speed of approximately sixteen knots (29.6 kilometers per hour).

When I first reported on board the fuel ship U.S.S. Taluga 62, the captain called me in to ask me if I had a Master's Degree from the University of Texas, as shown in my file. I answered, "Yes, sir!" I was curtly dismissed. This began a series of conflicts between the Captain and me . He would often call me to the flight deck on top of the

1308 Harriet Court, Austin, Texas

U.S.S. Taluga 62

U.S.S. Taluga 62 (left) re-fueling a carrier at sea. Notice fuel lines between ships.

"That's my Daddy!" Helping two little girls to remember Joe.

~ 36 ~

ship and ask me numerous questions that had nothing to do with our mission(s). He asked me trivial questions just to see if I knew the answer. In the beginning, I would answer correctly, but he seemed to get angrier with me with each correct answer. I finally realized he would never be satisfied, and began to offer wrong answers to his questions, just so he would let me go. He ended most of these sessions by yelling “That’s wrong!” People today think that bosses persecuting them is a new thing, but this type of bullying by a boss has always been around. When you're in the Navy, you do what you are told. We left San Diego, California, headed for Japan to be available as a fuel ship for the U.S. Navy. When we were about halfway across the Pacific Ocean just one hundred miles north of Midway Island, our Captain called for a man-overboard drill. We were traveling at almost maximum speed of 15 knots, way too fast for the drill. These

drills were practice to learn procedure, in case the ship ever had to be abandoned. We only used one whale boat that particular day. Six men, including me, because I was the Signalman, and one Lieutenant, were in the whale boat. As the whale boat was being lowered down the side of the oil tanker ship, the Captain called out orders incorrectly, and the whale boat turned upside down and

dumped all six of us into the ocean. The commanding Lieutenant in our whale boat was never found. Possibly he was hit by the ship or its propellers, or possibly he drowned. Nevertheless, he was gone forever. The other five of us washed away from the ship’s wake. We had on Kapok life jackets and the Lieutenant had on a different kind. Our life jackets worked, but I guess his did not. As I floated in the Pacific Ocean, one of the extra Kapok life jackets from the boat floated by and I grabbed it. At this time, life jackets were gray, not bright colors to help find someone in an emergency. Now I had a life jacket on my upper body, and I put my feet on the extra life jacket. I could barely see the U.S.S. Taluga 62 going over the horizon, and nothing else but ocean for miles. I could see the other four men off in the distance staying together, but I was too far away to join them. Perhaps an hour or more went by before the U.S.S. Taluga 62 could circle back for us and launch a second whale boat to rescue us. While I floated on the ocean waiting to be picked up, an albatross landed close to me and looked me over. Albatross birds are quite large, with wing spans of up to eleven feet and can weigh as much as twenty-two pounds. They are the largest flying birds in the world, and have been documented to live up to 50 years. He watched me for a while, and then flew off over the top of me. I guess I did not look like an easy meal. Sometime after the albatross looked me over, I could see the dorsal fin of a shark coming to take a look. The shark looked to be about twenty yards away. His dorsal fin was about three feet tall, so the shark might have been

Half-submerged U.S.S. Taluga 62 whale boat with rear line still attached.

~ 37 ~

as large as ten to fifteen feet long. I could not tell what species of shark it was, but I did not want to be eaten. I could see the rescue whale boat coming to pick me up by

then, and the shark left. As the whale boat approached, the First Class Boatsman, who was my friend, joked, “He looks OK, let’s get the others first.” I yelled back, “Come over here and get me out!” Not a good time for joking in my opinion. We had spent about two or more hours in the water.

After the man-overboard incident, there was an inquiry because a man had died. All the men involved, including me, had to write up our version of the incident. We wrote our reports individually, and did not know what the other men had written. I wrote my version as truthfully as I could. I was told by an officer that the Captain wanted me to change my version of events to say that he had not given the wrong orders which resulted in turning the whale boat upside down. I said I would not do it, that I had been truthful. The Captain tried several times through other officers to get me to change my version of events, but I never lost my integrity and refused. Our ship was sent to Pearl Harbor for an official Board of Inquiry about the incident, and again I was asked to give my version of events. I remained truthful despite pressures put on me. I am not sorry I did what was right in God’s eyes. The Board of Inquiry's final ruling on the case was 'Accidental Death'.

As we patrolled around the islands and oceans of Japan, waiting to fuel ships, we would occasionally dock at Sasebo, Japan, at the south end of the main island. This had to be done to fill our fuel tanks for upcoming fueling assignments. Sometimes we would dock at Hokkaido, Japan, the second to most northern island. On these occasions, we were given liberty. At Hokkaido, you could catch a train to Tokyo. While there I saw the outside of the Imperial

Palace among many other sights.

Joe touring Tokyo sites by rickshaw.

Five survivors back aboard ship. Joe second from right.

Rescued men returning to the USS Taluga. Finas standing in the middle of the boat on the right side.

~ 38 ~

It was very, very cold that winter of 1952 in Japan. Japan is as far north as Alaska. I often stayed on duty, rather than go ashore at Sasebo, because the snow was waist-high in places. I asked one of the other sailors to bring me some small items for my two little girls at home. He brought me two little pencil erasers that looked like Japanese dolls dressed up in kimonos. A different time, I was able to purchase two Japanese Geisha dolls in formal kimono attire for Marcia and Velma. I sent them home in time to be their presents for

Christmas. I also got Speedy a china tea set with roses on a

white background, and a white silk brocade evening jacket, with a matching silk clutch purse, to use for special occasions.

In the long hours at sea without much to do, I made a small clutch purse and a belt using macramé, the sailor's art of tying knots, out of the throwing lines used to send the big fuel lines between our tanker and the ships we were filling with fuel. A special gun would shoot a thin string over to the waiting ship, and then the bigger fuel line could be pulled over to the ship. No one used the thinner lines after the fuel line was attached, so I saved it and made things out of it.

We returned to Terminal Island, California, for an overhaul after I had served thirteen months from June 11, 1951, to July 28, 1952. On our return trip, I passed the test to become Chief Quartermaster (specialization of Chief Petty Officer). [Around

the clock at sea, Quartermasters are in charge of the watch-to-watch navigation and the maintenance, correction,

and preparation of nautical charts and navigation publications. QMs are also responsible for navigational instruments and clocks and the training of ship's lookouts and helmsmen.]

This was my final rank in the U.S. Navy. By the time the U.S.S. Taluga 62’s overhaul was complete, there were only two months left on my time of duty. I was asked if I would serve in the capacity of Superintendent of Education at the Naval Training Base in San Diego, California. Many of these sailors had poor educational backgrounds and needed better educations. However, because I had previously lost my Officer’s commission through incorrect advice from a naval officer, I felt it was time to complete my obligation for any further Naval service permanently.

Velma (left) , Marcia (right) with Japanese dolls from Daddy 'Santa'.

Marcia still has her doll today.

Joe on deck in winter gear, with a snow covered Hokkaido, Japan, in

the background.

Rosemary in Speedy's white

silk brocade evening jacket.

~ 39 ~

I hitchhiked home to Austin on a weekend liberty to get Speedy and my little girls. I drove us back to the naval base in our green Dodge. My family was stationed at the naval base and lived in a Quonset hut while I finished my time aboard ship. I kept asking my Captain about transferring back to the U.S. Destroyer Base at San Diego, California, to finish my time. The Captain kept refusing to release me. The day came for the U.S.S. Taluga 62 to leave from Terminal Island for Alaska, with a load of fuel. At the last possible minute, the captain gave permission for me to leave the ship. The ship had already cast off and was beginning to back away from the dock. Although I had some clothes in the laundry room (my rank now included laundry service), I only had time to race to my quarters, stuff everything there in my sea bag, run back up on deck at top speed, and then jump over open water while the ship backed off. I cannot imagine how Speedy felt to see the ship slowly moving away

from her, before I appeared running on deck. The water gap was already about three feet and growing. I threw my bag ashore and I made a fast jump after it. Speedy and my little girls were watching. My family and I spent the last two months of my naval duty living with my brother, Durwood, in San Diego, California. I was finally discharged from further Naval duty after the expiration of my enlistment. My total service in the United States Navy was: 13 years, 3 months, 0 days.

ACTIVE DUTY: 7 years, and RESERVE DUTY: 6 years.

There was one wonderful memory of that frustrating time, with a Captain who made my life as miserable as possible. I had offered to take a duty time for a fellow Signalman on the U.S.S. Taluga 62 who desperately wanted liberty to see his wife. She had come to meet our ship in port in the hope of seeing him. He was so grateful I switched overnight duty with him, he brought back four un-set authentic carved Italian cameos, and said I could pick one for my own wife. He had purchased these cameos in Italy when he was in port there before I ever met him. I

chose a cameo with a lady in a Spanish Mantilla which was very unusual. It was about two inches in size, and exquisitely carved. I have never seen another cameo to equal it in quality in all these years. A master cameo carver must have made it. Years later, Speedy had the cameo custom-set in fourteen carat gold to be used as a pin or pendant. It was passed on to my daughter Velma Jo years later when my wife gave it to her. Speedy had enjoyed it for over forty years. That same cameo was inherited by Velma Jo's daughter, Amanda Jo, because Velma Jo died at age fifty-five of breast/bone cancer in 2006.

Joe aboard U.S.S. Taluga near end of service.

F.W. "Joe" Horton in dress khaki uniform on board

U.S.S. Taluga.

Speedy's cameo is similar to this one and it has been passed down through the family.

~ 40 ~

After staying two weeks with Durwood in San Diego, California, I took my papers out to the Destroyer Naval Base and was honorably discharged from the Navy. I did not make the same mistake as before, and did not join the Naval Reserve again. We took a small vacation up to San Francisco, before returning to Austin.

Display showing F.W. "Joe" Horton's: rank insignia, dog tags, and medals - WWII / Korean War

Velma (l) & Marcia (r) and Speedy with Golden Gate Bridge - San Francisco, California, in the background.

Joe with Velma(l) & Marcia(r) together at last in Botanical Gardens, San Francisco, California.

~ 41 ~

CHAPTER 3: CAREER YEARS 1952 - 1979

Due to circumstances beyond my control and through God’s guidance in my life, I became a teacher, and discovered I loved doing it. I was a natural, patient, gifted teacher. I usually taught children the subjects I had majored on in college: History, Social Studies, and other similar history classes. I had begun my teaching career in Odessa (Texas) Independent School District, where I had taught for three years before being called back into active naval service for the Korean War in 1951. After the Korean War ended in 1952, I returned to Austin to be with my family. I went to Austin Independent School District to apply for a teaching job. There was no job available at that time. So, I applied for a job working for Travis County Schools. Travis County is where Austin, Texas, is located, but there were many other schools within the county that were not part of the Austin Independent School District. These small schools were under the supervision of the Travis County School Superintendent. At that time, the Travis County School Superintendent was Irwin W. Popham. Travis County School Superintendent was an elected position. The job I

applied for with Travis County Schools was Visiting Teacher. I was subsequently hired by Travis County Schools to be their Visiting Teacher. In that year of 1952, there were thirteen common school districts under the guidance of the Travis County School Superintendent. My Visiting Teacher duties included: organizing athletic contests between the thirteen common school districts, checking on children who were truant, setting up school curriculums, ordering and selecting textbooks for those curriculums, classroom visitations, teacher evaluations, explaining new teaching materials

to teaching staff, organizing school bus routes, and ordering new buses when necessary.

I reported all my activities to Mr. I. W. Popham, the elected Travis County School Superintendent. If Mr. Popham wanted changes made, it was my job to institute those changes. I completed the school year of 1952-1953 working for Travis County Schools. In the middle of that school year, I was contacted by Austin Independent Schools and offered a job to teach beginning at mid-term in January 1953. I told them I had already taken a job with Travis County Schools, and could not in good conscience quit in the middle of a school year. The Personnel Director was angry with me for not accepting, but I told him that if he had hired me to teach for Austin Independent School District, he would not want me to quit mid-term to take a different job.

Mr. Irwin W. Popham Travis County School Superintendent

~ 42 ~

After that school year ended, this same Personnel Director contacted me again to teach in Austin Independent School District, and that time I accepted because I could make more money, and my contract with Travis County Schools was fulfilled. The school year of 1953-1954, I taught American History at the old campus of Austin High School that was located at that time on 11th Street in Austin, Texas. That old building is no longer used for Austin High School, but is used now for an Austin Community College campus. My third child, daughter Rosemary Horton, was born on October 7, 1953. I had to ask for 'leave' to be at the hospital when she was born. After the first semester, when the Austin High School Principal realized I was a good disciplinarian, he handpicked my second semester class to include known troublemakers. That second semester on the very first day, a student said he was going to the restroom, and I told him he had a fifteen minute break already and to sit down. He left the classroom anyway, and when he returned, I told him he was no longer in my class and needed to report to the Principal. Everyone was shocked, but I had no other discipline problems after that since the students knew I would not put up with anything. This had been a test conceived by the students to see what they could get away with. The rest of the year went smoothly, as you might guess. After the school year of 1953-1954, I returned in the summer to the University of Texas at Austin to get another eighteen hours of Advanced Educational Administration so I would be qualified to be either a Superintendent or a Principal of a school in the future. I completed that task and was ready to continue working. During that summer of 1954, I was contacted unexpectedly by Mr. Popham of the Travis County Schools. He wanted me to work for him again, because I had done a good job as Visiting Teacher. Since I had completed my Superintendent Certification, I was hired to be his Assistant Travis County School Superintendent. My duties were to keep books on teacher salaries, make out monthly checks for teachers, which Mr. Popham signed, keep records of these checks, and also deposit money received from the State of Texas for our teachers, textbooks, and supplies. I ordered textbooks, supplies (such as construction paper, chalk, chalkboard erasers, paint, bulletin board paper, etc.), and school buses - if needed. I set up the school bus routes according to how many students needed transportation, and these routes had to be sent to the Texas Education Agency, as required by the Texas Legislature. Mr. Popham and I attended all School Board Meetings for all thirteen districts every single month. Travis County Schools supervised thirteen common school districts in 1954 which totaled approximately eight hundred students, and fifty teachers. Most of the thirteen common school districts were very small schools with very few resources. The office of Travis County School Superintendent was to help organize and supply the children in these small rural areas outside of the city of Austin. The Texas Legislature designated taxes from those rural areas to be used by the office of Travis County Schools, and we had to account for how all the money was spent in each area: teacher salaries, supplies, buses/fuel, and teaching aides such as

F. W. "Joe" Horton Austin H.S. 1953.

~ 43 ~

dictionaries, globes, maps, etc. The state bought and provided the textbooks for the students to use. However, the Travis County School Superintendent was responsible for ordering and maintaining an accounting of all the textbooks provided by the State of Texas for the students. Textbooks were chosen by Travis County Schools with the help of each of the thirteen common district school boards. When it was determined what needed to be ordered for the coming school year, the order was submitted to the Texas Education Agency. When the books were shipped in the summer, the pallets/boxes of books and teaching materials were unloaded at our office, where the delivery would be carefully counted for accuracy before signed papers were returned to the Texas Education Agency verifying receipt. Then buses would have to come and collect/deliver the books to the individual schools which had to count/sign for them, and be accountable for them. Lost books had to be paid for and the funds sent back to the state at the end of each year. Delivery services did not exist at that time, so the office of Travis County School Superintendent hauled every single book or teaching aid in our own cars to the schools, if they needed additional copies during the course of a school year.

Travis County Common School District map from 1963 was donated with other historical records to the Travis County Archives.

The office of Travis County School Superintendent was also responsible for setting up new bus routes every single school year, and turning in those routes, described turn by turn with mileage, into the Texas Education Agency for approval. Other responsibilities were: teacher evaluations every year, records of children in each classroom, attendance of children and teachers, truancy violations, records kept by the nurse hired by Travis County Schools (which included head lice problems - a

~ 44 ~

common occurrence then, as it still is today), records of any audio-visual aids (like record players) checked out from the main office of the Travis County School Superintendent, etc. The Travis County Schools had only one film projector to be used by all thirteen common school districts, and the films used were checked out of the Austin Public Library. Some unusual things done at the Travis County School offices were: verification of age from old records by people needing to prove they were eligible for Social Security, but had no Birth Certificate. I was a qualified, trained Notary Public and had a State Seal for legal verification, if needed. Travis County Schools also

instituted HEAD START with the rest of the State of Texas to help non-English speaking children at age five. This program helped children to prepare to start First Grade speaking English so they could continue to learn at the level of other already English-speaking children and not get left behind academically. When I became Assistant Travis County School Superintendent, we had thirteen common school districts: Hornsby-Dunlap (1 black and 1 white school), Webberville (1 black and 1 white school), Creedmoor, Pilot Knob (1 black and 1 white school), New Sweden (1 black and 1 white school), Summit, Eanes, Lago Vista, Del Valle, Garfield, Manchaca, Oak Hill and Hornsby Bend. In the years before integration, it was a sad fact that black and white children could not attend the same schools. Segregation was common all over the United States. In the 1950s and 1960s, Travis County underwent significant developments in desegregation. Schools in Travis County began to desegregate in 1955. Travis County Schools integrated without many problems, though a few occurred as you might expect. Now I had to set up school bus routes that would take all children, black or white, to the same schools. Teachers were integrated also. I remember one incident that involved a black teacher who had to move to a previously white school campus. The first year, no school board member wanted their child in her classroom. By the next year, everyone had changed their minds and recognized she was a superior teacher. Now the school board members all wanted her to teach their children. During the years of 1957-1958, I decided to build an extra room onto our home at 1308 Harriet Court, Austin, Texas. My three daughters were growing up and needed more space. Except for occasional help from Speedy’s brother, Bob (Robert Blake Spielman), I did all the work myself. Speedy began to do private-duty nursing on the weekends to pay for the room. I found some Austin limestone that had been torn down from a building and asked for it. The foreman said I could have it - if I carried it off. This Austin limestone was the same type of rock used on the other part of our house. I had previously helped someone who was a stone setter with a problem concerning his son. As a thank you, he taught me how to set the stones. When the built-on room was finished, each of my three girls had their own closet, and a space for their own bed and desk, and they shared a new bathroom. Marcia was ten years old, Velma Jo was eight, and Rosemary was five when the room was finished. On the outside of the new room facing the patio, I built a goldfish pond with a fountain that we all enjoyed for many years. We often had to get pollywogs out of the pond. This room served well until the two older girls had finished college and

~ 45 ~

married. At that time, Speedy and I moved into the larger bedroom and moved our youngest daughter into our former bedroom at the front of the house. I continued as Assistant Travis County School Superintendent from 1955 until August 1, 1962. Mr. Popham had decided to retire, and he encouraged me to run for election as the Travis County School Superintendent. I met with the Democratic Election Committee to get my name on the ballot. Then I began my campaign which lasted from August, 1962 until public Election Day in November of 1962. My only campaign helpers were my three daughters and my wife. I had very little money to use on my campaign and no financial supporters. My girls handed out business cards on the weekends at grocery stores as people left with their groceries. I had small 9 X 12 campaign posters printed up, and put them everywhere I hoped people would see them. There was no money for anything else. Only one other candidate was in the election opposing me for Travis County School Superintendent. It was a very close race. I won by only 360 votes, and became the new Travis County School Superintendent on January 1, 1963. Though I served as Travis County School Superintendent for a subsequent sixteen years, I only had one other opponent following year eight of my tenure. Otherwise, I was re-elected every four years unopposed.

Front & back of campaign card.

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In addition to the duties I had been helping Mr. Popham with for the previous eight years, I now assumed all of his previous duties, as well. As time went by, the original thirteen common school districts became either part of Austin Independent School District, or became independent school districts themselves. The number of common schools I oversaw got smaller and smaller as each district chose to either govern themselves or join another school district. I was helpful to these districts in this process. Often school boards not in my jurisdiction came to me and asked how to become independent or join another district. Lake Travis Schools came to me for non-biased advisement when they wanted to become independent from Dripping Springs Public Schools. They were unhappy that they paid school taxes, but school buses would not pick up their children for school. Common school districts which I had previously worked with who became independent were: Del Valle Independent Schools consolidated from: Del Valle, Creedmoor, Webberville, Hornsby-Dunlap, Hornsby Bend, Garfield, and Pilot Knob. They became one independent school district. Eanes became an independent school district by itself. Summit joined Austin Independent School District, and New Sweden joined Elgin Independent Schools. Lago Vista was the last of the common school districts in Travis County Schools to go independent. I helped them with this process, and then helped them through the process of building a new school building for First grade through Grade Twelve. Years later, Lago Vista would build a new separate High School, and they honored me by putting a plaque with my name on the cornerstone of that beautiful building. During my tenure as superintendent, my wife and I saved our pennies all year long so we could go to the National Education Agency conventions all over the United States in the summers with our three girls. While I attended seminars and learning expos, my wife and girls went to see local sights and visited the booths at the convention from all the individual states represented. NEA conventions we attended were in: Miami, Florida; New York City, New York; Detroit, Michigan; and Seattle, Washington. My three daughters would help plan the route to drive our car to these cities, and which sights to see along the way. We visited many National Parks,

Finas W. Horton being sworn in by Judge Charles Betts as Travis County School Superintendent.

F. W. "Joe" Horton signing as an elected State of Texas official, with Judge Betts officiating.

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numerous Historical Markers, glass blowing plants in West Virginia, a Hormel meat processing plant, and a gold mine in South Dakota. We had a snowball fight on a glacier on Mt. Rainier in July, and went coast-to-coast from the Empire State Building in New York, New York, to the Space Needle in Seattle,

Washington. It was a great way to see America, and as the years passed, we saw at least part of every state (except Alaska, Maine, and Hawaii). We even crossed borders to Windsor, Canada and Juarez, Mexico. My girls learned many interesting things from our travels, while I served the children of Travis County Schools by attending the annual NEA conventions to keep up with the latest information in the field of education.

During those years I served as Travis County School Superintendent, I became a Deacon of University Baptist Church on Guadalupe Street in Austin, Texas. I served as the Finance Committee Chairman some of those years. Many of those years, my wife and I taught Sunday school to children. God had been good to me, and I tried to support God’s church by doing these things and giving my tithe. All three of our daughters were married at University Baptist Church where they had grown up and been baptized.

We saved our money through the years so our three girls could go to college. The house on Harriet Court was paid off just in time to start the first of our girls in The University of Texas at Austin. Marcia earned a Bachelor of Science in Education in 1970, Velma Jo earned a Bachelor of Science in Education in 1972, and Rosemary earned a Bachelor of Science in Education in 1974. Marcia, Velma Jo, and Rosemary all were classroom teachers for years. Rosemary paid for graduate school herself by singing with a band summers and weekends during the school year. Her 1978-79 Residential Year/Internship, included: coursework, supervising undergraduate student teachers in the field, and working a semester in Galveston Independent School District as an Administrative/Supervisory Intern. She earned dual-certificates in Educational Administration and Supervision, with her Master’s of Education Degree in 1979. She became an Elementary Principal in 1981. The Texas Legislature abolished the elected office of Travis County School Superintendent in 1978. The entire state of Texas would no longer have common school districts. All County School Superintendents were abolished state-wide.

Horton Family 1963 Standing: Speedy and Joe

Seated left to right: Velma Jo, Rosemary, Marcia

Left to right.: Marcia, Velma, & Rosemary at the Grand Canyon circa 1963.

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Lago Vista Independent School District agreed to hire me as their Superintendent for a brief period of only one month, so I could complete another year of credit with Teacher Retirement System of Texas.

The Teacher Retirement System also recognized my years in Naval Service from 1941 to 1946, and the thirteen months I had served in the Korean War as part of my retirement years. Therefore, in all, I had thirty-six years in retirement credits with Teacher Retirement System. I retired in January of 1979.

F. W. "Joe" Horton Travis County School Superintendent

1963-1978

Marcia beside plaque on the wall in Lago Vista with F. W. HORTON as SUPERINTENDENT.

~ 49 ~

CHAPTER 4: RETIREMENT YEARS 1979-2012

Retirement years were wonderful. My wife and I had bought a sixteen and a half acre piece of land with a view of Austin on the top of a bluff above Onion Creek east of Austin, Texas. It was located north of Highway 71 East, three miles east of Bergstrom Air Force Base (now Austin-Bergstrom International Airport). Speedy had agreed to move to the country only if we found a place with a view. We named our place Rainbow Ridge and there was a view of the city of Austin to the west. We often saw beautiful sunsets, and yes, many rainbows through the twenty years we lived there.

I had a small flower garden, a large vegetable garden, a few cows for beef, and chickens for fresh eggs.

Joe holds grandson Joe (3½ yrs.) by a 8½ foot sunflower in the garden on 'Rainbow Ridge'.

Front view of house on Rainbow Ridge. Bluff view of Rainbow Ridge house under rainbow.

Joe holds granddaughter Amanda (4 yrs.) and Speedy holds grandson Charlie (1 ½ yrs.)

by the front porch flower garden on Rainbow Ridge.

~ 50 ~

HORTON BROTHERS at Rainbow Ridge circa 1983

Charlie Fred Horton Robert "Bob" Durwood Horton Finas Wade "Joe" Horton

~ 51 ~

On Rainbow Ridge I had a peacock named Solomon and a peahen named Zelda. Each year Zelda laid about ten eggs and we usually had five who grew up to be sold. Snakes and fire ants killed many of the peachicks. I also had a small bay Shetland pony named Hershey for my grandchildren to ride.

We had many pets throughout the years on Harriet Court, Rainbow Ridge, and Shoal Creek. Lucky was a fifteen pound black and white full-blood female Rat Terrier, and Wilbur was a large, spotted, and striped grey/black/white tomcat. Neko was a full-blood female Siamese cat. Bosco was an eight pound male Chihuahua/Fox Terrier mix, and Carmen was a twelve pound black and white full-blood female Rat Terrier. Greta was a sixty-five pound female German Shepherd/Husky mix, and Lady was a sixty-five pound full-blood female Doberman Pinscher. Rex was a huge, full-blood male German Shepherd that weighed one hundred and five pounds, and Sheba was a full-blood female Himalayan cat. Each pet was special to us in their own way.

My peacock, named Solomon, looked very much like this one.

Our peahen and peachicks looked like the ones shown here. Joe and his pony named Hershey

with grandson Joe in the saddle.

LUCKY (named after my childhood dog)

WILBUR

CARMEN

Rosemary and NEKO BOSCO - 6 wk. pup with Joe

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Once a man drove up to the Rainbow Ridge house in a pick-up, looked at the 'Beware of Dog' sign, and seeing little Bosco and Carmen come around the house stepped out of his truck laughing. But when Greta and Rex turned the corner, he jumped back in his truck and took off. We never did find out what he wanted! We lived on Rainbow Ridge for twenty years until our health began to fail. We then decided we needed to be nearer to our doctors and hospitals.

Joe with REX.

GRETA at 3½ mo.

Speedy and SHEBA

~ 53 ~

In 1990, we bought a new home in Austin, Texas, on Shoal Creek Boulevard. Our new home was on a corner lot where I continued to grow the flowers and shrubs that I enjoyed so much. One year I was honored with an award from the Allandale Neighborhood Association for "MOST COLORFUL YARD".

<--June 23rd, 2006, the girls had this printed in the Austin Statesman

newspaper. Speedy and I so enjoyed celebrating our 60th Wedding

Anniversary with the family that day!

Speedy and I lived happily on Shoal Creek until my beloved wife died on October 30, 2008, at the age of eight-five from liver/colon cancer. We had been happily married for sixty-two and a half years.

When I was eight-eight years old, I moved in to live with my daughter, Marcia. I often visit with my other daughter, Rosemary. My three grandchildren are now grown.

Joe with his bougainvillea in the back yard.

Front view of house on Shoal Creek.

Joe with Award for Most Colorful Yard.

JOE (Marcia's son)

AMANDA JO (Velma Jo's daughter)

CHARLIE (Velma Jo's son)

~ 54 ~

In October of 2011, I attended a celebration for all current elected officials then serving, and retired elected officials who had previously served, in Travis County,

Texas. The celebration was given jointly by the Travis County Archives and the Travis

County Historical Commission. I told one of the Archivists I had saved newspaper clippings from my elections in scrapbooks. Included in those newspaper clippings was information on other elected Travis County officials during those years. After seeing

Joe gardening at age 90. Joe loves roses.

F. W. "Joe" Horton - Guest speaker on Veteran's Day at a local elementary school.

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my scrapbooks, I was asked if I would consider donating them to the Travis County

Archives. I was pleased to see my scrapbooks preserved for history. Some of those newspaper photographs were enlarged and displayed at the celebration. My photograph and Irwin W. Popham’s photograph were on display that day. Later, I was asked to do a video interview about the Travis County Schools during my tenure

as the Travis County School Superintendent. That video is now part of the Living

History Collection within the Travis County Archives for future generations to see long after I

am gone. I have agreed to donate a copy of this story of my life to the Travis County

Archives and the Travis County Historical Commission.

~ONE SECTION OF THE PHOTO DISPLAY~

In the middle row shown here==> The second photo is F. W. "Joe" Horton. The fourth photo shows Joe on the far

right with two men from the U. S. Dept. of Education.

.

Display Board at the Fourth Annual Travis County History Day: FOCUS -Travis County Elected Officials Past and Present.

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EPILOGUE

During my long life, I have seen so many changes in the world. Some that affected me the most were: automobiles, airplanes, fans, bathtubs, indoor plumbing, washing machines/dryers, electric irons for pressing clothes, dishwashers, television, prescription eyeglasses, electric lamps, radios, computers, welders, steel, and air conditioning in buildings and cars. Modern medicine was very important in my life, helping me live to this age of ninety-one and a half. I have had over twenty-two major operations/medical emergencies in my life that could have killed me, but modern medicine helped me through those sick times. Of course, there were thousands of other modern inventions, but in the Twentieth Century, lots of modern inventions replaced things that were simply hard work in my youth. No longer did water have to be carried from a well. No longer did we have to struggle in the dim light of kerosene lamps at night. No longer did we have to walk everywhere we needed to travel. I could go on and on, but the point is that people in modern times do not realize how hard life can be without modern conveniences. Modern people do not have to raise their own food, or wait on a letter from a loved one. I could not possibly write down all the things that make modern life comfortable. I do not regret the hardships of my youth growing up in the tough times of the Great Depression of the 1920s and 1930s in the Twentieth Century. Those experiences made me who I am, and probably contributed to my long life. I still have my own teeth and no cavities at ninety-one and a half years old, as I write this. I was blessed in so many ways, and I regret none of the experiences that life has dealt me. I have had a great life!

F. W. "Joe" Horton at 90 years old.

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CREATIVE WRITERS AND EDITORS FOR FINAS WADE "JOE" HORTON

Daddy gave mother a beautiful cameo long ago, as recounted on page 39.

Daddy gave us these cameos as remembrance gifts for our help with his memoirs.

Daughters' Note:

Finas Wade "Joe" Horton died quietly at home in his sleep

on October 16, 2012. He was 91 years and 8 months old.

Until two days before his death, he continued to

communicate with family and friends, enjoy flowers, and

cheer on his Texas Longhorns.

Daddy has begun a new journey now that leads beyond this

worldly existence, and away from the experiences of this

life. He has started a new spiritual life with our Lord and

his beloved "Speedy". There he will surely find a garden of

flowers to tend and roses that will flourish under his tender

care.

Until we join him in that peaceful place, he will be missed!

MARCIA BELLE HORTON SMITH ROSEMARY HORTON CONE