Traveling Jones

Stephen Woody

The Notebook

You ever have a “traveling jones,” where seeing people just gets in your head and won’t let go? That’s the itch the Notebook had to scratch for the past week. Some highlights:

  • Old friends. I grew up with Jim (now a lawyer and judge) and Rod (a probation officer). We played in the same infield, went on dates together, roomed together in college, and we talk regularly. It had been seven years since I had last seen Rod; five since Jim had visited Montrose. We had been missing one another.

    We’ve all had our health issues in the last few years - a heart attack, a dose of blood cancer, and Rod is currently on a list for a liver transplant, which could be any day now. We hung out last week, and visited a favorite old haunt in Shreveport, Herby K’s, and laughed until we were sore. There was some black humor flying back and forth over dinner, about how we’re “patched together” with heart stents, transplants and such. It was an emotional evening as well; one day you’re 17, and the next, facing a dose of mortality. The memory chases the memories and the recounting is worth savoring.

    The next day, I did the same with another old friend who lives in Dallas, Henry, a former high-flyer with Frito-Lay. An environmental engineer, he has his own gig these days where he travels the world and includes as a partner, Don Henley, the singer/songwriter with The Eagles, also an east Texan. Together, they helped rescue Caddo Lake, one of the few natural lakes in Texas and one of the most stunning places on earth.

    The laughter from both evenings was downright cathartic.

  • Family. A.E. Dickson, my mother’s father, was the superintendent of schools, and a teacher, before dying in 1953. The small town where he educated schoolchildren is Dickson, Okla., and is named after him. (Our mother also taught there as well, before meeting our father.)

    Dickson is on Highway 199, due east and 10 miles from Ardmore. There’s not much there — a town hall, a feed store, and a couple of convenience stores. But the school’s campus is lively, and neat as a pin, with grades K-12. My grandfather’s original schoolhouse is still in use, as the elementary school. Dickson is home to the Comets, the school colors are blue and white, and they’ve even got a football team. It’s a bedroom community to Ardmore, which is undergoing much growth. Soon, the Chinese will make MG automobiles there.

    The school closed during the Depression years; and there were some rough spots after. But now, even though small, it seems robust. I took plenty of pictures while in Dickson, though it didn’t take that long. A painting of our grandfather hangs in the school.

  • Boomer Sooner. I’ve written now and then about Ida Mae Wilson, our great aunt. She was born in 1907, the same year as Oklahoma statehood. Oklahoma is celebrating its centennial statehood milestone this year and as a part of the recognition, it is honoring 100 citizens who were born, or were alive during the state’s founding.

    The exhibit is called, ‘The Salt of the Red Earth - A Century of Wit and Wisdom From Oklahoma’s Elders, 1907 - 2007.’

    Our aunt was chosen for a number of reasons; one being her infectious and positive outlook on life. Her photo and a brief story hangs in the Omni-Plex in downtown OKC, as well as the JRB Art Gallery at The Elms in the Paseo art district of the city. The exhibits of these native sons and daughters are well worth the time, if you’re visiting there.

    My brother and I took her, as a surprise, to the art gallery. She was a little bit uncomfortable with the sudden dose of celebrity, but warmed to it. The gallery director was delighted she came by.

    Ida Mae Woody Wilson was born on a farm near Ardmore, when it called Cherokee Nation, Indian Territory. Her ancestors immigrated to the area via the Trail of Tears. She worked 45 years for the “phone company,” retiring as a Southwest Bell supervisor. She loves University of Oklahoma football. The 2007 season will be her 80th straight season in attendance. Says the bio: “She walks 72 rows up to her seats in Row 64.”

    Last year, my brother and his wife took her to Las Vegas and celebrated her 99th birthday at the Eiffel Tower restaurant atop the Paris Casino. She walks a mile each day, and swam three times a week for most of her adult life. Each portrait contains a dose of historical bio and an outlook for successful living. This was Ida Mae’s:

    “I’ve never had a bad day in my life. My life today, I can’t live it again, so I have only myself to blame if it’s wasted. I have to live one day at a time.”

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