Eugene Preston Lane - Oil Explorer

Eugene Preston was born on January 20, 1920 in Duffau (near Hico). He was married to Wanda Cates on March 29, 1954, but the marriage ended a little more than three years later on May 29, 1957. They had no children.

We always called him Eugene, but in later years, he was known simply as Gene. He served in the Army Air Corps during World War II, but most, if not all his service, was state side. I remember him being at Laredo, Texas for a long period of time. After the War, Gene worked in oil exploration. His job took him from Mexico to Canada to the Australian outback and many other places including Peru, Brazil, Libya, Egypt, Pakistan, Thailand, Singapore and the Philippines.

His high school graduation was the first graduation I ever remember attending. Loretta, his younger sister, said they fought a lot when they were growing up but drew close to one another in later life during his illness. When he retired from the relentless search for petroleum, he moved to Fort Worth. He died of lung cancer in a Glen Rose, Texas nursing home on October 17, 1994.

I especially remember that Gene and Durward, along with Pauline took the lead in getting my mother admitted to the state hospital in Galveston when her mental problems first surfaced in 1947. They were very concerned about her and did what they could to help.

Melba Geraldine (2) - Jean, the Baptist Church, and Expletives

My friendship with Melba’s daughter, Jean really flourished during college.  She was a freshman at Abilene Christian when I was a senior.    Sometime during my senior year I started dating her roommate, Marita Nelson.   The three of us did a lot of fun things together.  Marita eventually married Pat Hardcastle, a good friend and fellow graduate student.  They now live in Oklahoma.

As her parents aged, Jean took responsibility for their care.  She moved them to New Braunfels, Texas where she was living at the time.  Jean was married to the late Gayle Dragoo.  At one point Sleepy was in the nursing home, and Melba was living in her home.  Quite a few times I attended a seminar in Austin and while Jean was still at Gruene (near New Braunfels) I generally took an afternoon off to visit. 

On year Gayle, Jean and Melba all drove to Austin to pick me up.   I had ridden to Austin with some other fellows and didn’t have a car.   Melba was confused but still somewhat lucid.  On the way to Austin, Gayle told Melba that I had converted to the Baptist church and was preaching for the Baptists now.    When I got in the car Jean said, “Norman, you’ve got some explaining to do.  Mother thinks you’re preaching for the Baptists.”  I’m not sure if she ever understood that we were both being teased.

Sleepy, Melba, and Gayle all died within two or three years of each other, and on each occasion I was asked to conduct graveside services in Hico where they are all buried.  I had some minor surgery on the day prior to Sleepy’s service.  It was about a hundred degrees in Hico and the doctor refused let me drive from Shreveport to Hico.  I asked Waymon Wren, a brother from the Southern Hills church, and former Shreveport police officer to drive me over.   Jean sent me a biography of her parents, which I copied into the computer and read at the service.  In quoting what one of her parents had said on one occasion, she included a mild expletive.   I chose to delete it, but the word got out about what I had done, and some people wanted to know why I didn’t read the whole thing.   I told them my computer just would not allow certain words to be typed in.

A few years later, Jean married a San Antonio man named Jack Mayer.  He and Jean built a new home on the family farm, and they now raise registered Longhorn cattle.  She chose well.  Jack is one of my favorite people.

Melba Geraldine - Memories of Chocolate Cherries

Melba Geraldine was born on September 20, 1919 at Duffau in Erath County, Texas.   She married Percy Coyt (Sleepy) Clark on May 28, 1937.   They have one daughter, Carola Jean, who now lives at Fairy on the old home place.  Actually she and her husband Jack have built a house across the creek from the house she grew up in.  Jean and I have been very close throughout our lives.   We were the oldest and only grandchildren for a long time.  

When I was a young boy we often went to Hico in order to spend Christmas with my grandparents.   Sometimes I slept on a “Baptist pallet (a quilt folded up and placed on the floor),” but sometimes I got to go home with Sleepy and Melba and sleep in a real bed.   I always enjoyed visiting with them, and Jean was great fun.    It’s strange what one remembers.  Throughout my early life there wasn't a whole lot of money for extras at Christmas time.   When it came to Christmas I usually got a candy cane in my stocking, and maybe some of that old fashioned ribbon candy.   But when I went home with Sleepy and Melba, I got a new treat.  I was introduced to chocolate covered cherries.   That opened up a whole new category of Christmas goodies. I probably ate half the box.

I’ve been told that Melba helped take care of my mother and me right after I was born.   She was always kindly disposed toward me.    She was there during my mother's final illness and I always enjoyed my visits  to their place at Fairy.

I recall one, sort of scary adventure that involved the Melba, Sleepy, Jean and me.  In 1957, I began preaching in Rosebud, Texas.   They came to visit me.  There wasn’t a decent restaurant in Rosebud, so I took them to Marlin.  Marlin is the county seat of Falls County, so called because there is a nearby falls on the Brazos River.   I decided to take them back to Rosebud by way of the falls.  Normally the river was low enough in those days that you could drive a car across the top of the falls.   I was halfway across the Falls before I realized the water was deeper than I had seen it before. I began to have visions of my car washing down the Brazos River and being responsible for the drowning death of my relatives and myself.   Fortunately, I got the car across and nobody said a word about the adventure.   But I did notice they didn’t come back to visit after that.  

John Durward Lane (2) - Struggle with Cancer

Durward had a long struggle with cancer and died on April 3, 1956. He was highly regarded by all who knew him. When my mother suffered from mental illness, he took the lead in trying to find medical help for her. Several years after his death, I mentioned him to Ralph Starling, who preached Durward's funeral Ralph Starling, a Church of Christ minister from Stephenville, conducted the funeral. I asked him if he remembered Durward Lane. He said that he still owned a pair of tin snips that Durward had given him.

During the time of his illness Durward was hospitalized in the old Hico hospital, which is now a nursing home. My mother was institutionalized in a mental hospital at the time, so Daddy and I drove to Hico to visit him. That was my last visit with him.  I remember him laughing and cheerful.  He put up a courageous fight.   I owned a 1947 Studebaker Champion. It was a strange car. It would get 26 miles per gallon on gasoline, but then I had to put a quart of oil in the car in the morning when I left for school in Abilene. We only lived about 15 miles to the campus. As you can tell the Studebaker was quite an oil burner. I would then have to put another quart in the car on the return trip. I finally started buying oil in the bulk. An old man ran a service station at Elmdale. He would draw up a quart (or a gallon) from a 55 gallon drum and put it in a fruit jar for you. The price was ten cents a quart. I hated paying it, because I could have bought a coke for that kind of money.

For some reason, we chose to make that trip to Hico (100 miles each way) in the Studebaker. I remember the trip because of the adventure we had on the way home. We were somewhere east of Rising Star, as I recall, when the universal joint gave way and the drive shaft fell to the ground. My father was a resourceful man. He always carried a pair of pliers. He cut some wire off a barbed wire fence and wired the U Joint back together. He got behind the wheel, put the car in high gear and we started off. He never allowed any slack on the drive shaft, even though he had to drive about 30 miles an hour and run all the red lights. I think the only one we saw was in Cross Plains. We made the 50-mile trip home without incident.

John Durward Lane (1) - The Fighting Seabee

John Durward was the second son of John and Ada Lane.  He was born December 6, 1915 at Fairy.  Yes friends, there is a town in Texas called Fairy.  I’ve been there many times.  He married Estaleta (sp?) Gieseke on September 1, 1937.   They had two children Johnny (now known as John) and Janet.  In recent years I’ve gotten reacquainted with them.   John lives between Hico and Stephenville.  Janet lives in Denison.   To my great surprise, I learned that her son Jeff Holland served a long period of time as a missionary in Togo, West Africa.   By coincidence the church I was working with at the time was involved in the support of his fellow co-workers.

Durward was an accomplished metal worker.   He lived at Stephenville, Dublin and in Arlington.   He served his country in the Seabees and was engaged in heavy combat in the well-known World War II battles of Tarawa, Guadalcanal and Saipan.   John Wayne made the Seabees famous in the movie, The Fighting Seabees. The Seabees were supposed to be a construction corps but the did more than grade roads and build things.  He once told a story about the Marines landing on Guadalcanal, which attracted international press attention.   The Marines posted a sign that read, “The Marines landed first on Guadalcanal.”    A few days later, another sign appeared beneath it.  It read, “On roads built two weeks before by the Seabees.”  

Durward was the object of much concern during the war.   We knew that he was in harm’s way.   The radio and newspapers were subject to censorship, but enough of the truth filtered through to let you know that things were pretty tough in the South Pacific. 

Durward often sent us V-Mail letters.  Considering the rapid pace of today’s life, I’m amazed that he found time to write all his brothers and sisters.  We got mail from him pretty regularly and we always looked forward to hearing from him.   The V-mail letters were photocopies of the originals.  They were actually films developed from a negative.   Copy machines were still a long way off.  The heading was always “Somewhere in the South Pacific.”  The letters were subject to censorship, but the tone let you know that he was not picking coconuts and romping on the beach.   Of course I was a young boy and I would beg my mother to ask him stupid questions like “Have you heard. . .?”  And then I would name some song they were playing on the radio in the states.  

The Third and Fourth Children of John and Ada Lane

Marguerite was born on May 23, 1910 in Hico. She passed away on February 12, 1920. As I understand it, she died in a great diphtheria epidemic that took many lives at that time. I don't recall many stories about Marguerite, although I know her loss was devastating to the family.

Irvin was the oldest boy. He was born on January 26, 1912. Irvin never married. He served in the South Pacific in the army during World War II.  Once he told me about the sinking of a ship he was on. He was in the water several hours before he was rescued. He acted as if it were a small thing.

I especially remember him coming to our house, when we lived at Elmdale, shortly after the war. He was looking for work in Abilene and I think he probably did work there a short time. He told us stories about the South Pacific.

I remember Irvin bringing home a bottle of rum one night. I don’t know where he got it. Abilene was dry at the time, but I suppose it wasn’t too hard to find a bootlegger. Anyway, I was curious about the taste of the rum. He let me taste it and I thought it was about the awfulest thing I ever put in my mouth and it pretty well cured me from ever wanting to drink anything alcoholic. To this day I’ve never liked the taste of any alcoholic drink. It’s just as well. It’s one temptation I don’t have to deal with. Irvin worked as a night watchman in Fort Worth after World War II.

I don’t think Irvin ever knew it, but he helped me get my first full time preaching job. Upon graduation from Abilene Christian, I received an invitation to interview for a pulpit opening at Rosebud, Texas. Mama thought it would be a good time to visit her parents. Hico was on the way so I took her down on Saturday, planning to leave early Sunday morning for Rosebud. When I got up on Sunday morning, I realized that I didn’t have a tie. I had a nice suit, but I needed a tie. These were the days when people still dressed up for church, and you weren't going to get a preaching job without a tie.

Irvin was neither a churchgoer nor a fashion trendsetter but he came to the rescue. He told me that he had some ties and I could pick out any one I wanted. He brought out several four-inch wide ties that had been in style in the late forties. This was 1957 and thin ties were in. But I didn’t know what else to do. He had a brown solid tie that seemed to match my suit, so I thanked him and headed for Rosebud. I felt like I was probably getting off on the wrong foot, but I got the job and nobody said a word about the tie, then or later. I drove back to Hico after the Sunday evening service and spent the night. When I returned the tie to Irvin, he very graciously offered to let me keep it. I accepted his gift but I never wore it again.

Irvin died of Lung cancer at the VA hospital in Temple in July 6, 1972.

Ruby Lois Lane - You Didn't Want to Mess With Mama

Ruby Lois Lane (my mother) was born in Clairette, Texas (in Erath County, a few miles west of Hico) on April 30, 1908. She was the second child born to John and Ada Lane.  She died at the West Texas Medical Center in Abilene in November of 1980 at age 71 after a bout with stomach cancer. She died on Election Day within minutes after the polls closed in the election that sent Ronald Reagan to Washington. 

I’ll have more to say about her in a later blog. However at this point, I’d like to share a comment from her youngest sister, Loretta. “She was always kind, generous and encouraging. That time my friend and I visited with you in Clyde, I had stupidly married a soldier who was transferred to the Air Base (Tye Air Base) at Abilene. (Note: Loretta and a friend came to visit us in Clyde during the war. We lived in a two room house. It was summer time, so we put a bed in the yard and that’s where they slept). We didn’t stay long. I moved to Abilene and found my husband with another woman. The marriage was annulled. I remember at supper time you asked my husband why he didn’t eat at the base before he came because you didn’t have much to eat anyway. ‘Out of the mouths of babes!’ I still think it was funny because we were all thinking the same thing and only you were innocent enough to say it.” I don’t remember the incident, but I will confess to being a smart mouth kid at times. 

My smart mouth probably stemmed from the fact that I was a spoiled only child. I remember Uncle Tom Mackey coming to our house during the war. Uncle Tom was a cousin to Grandma Bales and had a son named Dale. Dale was an irresponsible womanizer and general all around rebel, who stayed in constant trouble with the brass. Uncle Tom had come to visit us so he could see Dale at Camp Barkeley, a World War II army camp near Abilene. At the breakfast table he pondered out loud, “I wonder where I can find Dale.” Before anybody else could say anything, I blurted out, “You’ll probably find him at the guard house” (stockade). My insight was probably true, but it was not the kind of thing a seven year old boy was supposed to say to a relative about his son. The first thing I know, I caught a hand across my mouth.

At one point Dale decided to make a pass at Mama. She kicked him in the shins so hard that it broke the skin and produced a fairly nasty wound. You didn’t want to mess with Mama.