I think one could describe Aunt Margaret as a "sweet" person. Without a doubt she was a very gentle lady and one of the kindest I have ever known. We were very "close" from the first moment of our meeting right up until her death. Today when I think of her I am reminded of all the "fun times" we had together that summer of '31 and at other times too. Aunt Mona's daughter, Nancy, reminds me very much of her beautiful serene mother.

In the spring of 1933 mother became very ill and after a week or so in bed at Portales, dad took her to the hospital in Clovis. She remained there for a while and then was released to convalesce in the home of Aunt Lizzie Boykin there in Clovis. She didn't do well however, and was forced to go back to the hospital. She died on June 30 of that year! I was at her bed side and witnessed her death ... sight of her lifeless body lying on the hospital bed has remained fixed in my mind all these years. The helpless feeling and fright I experienced that night after seeing her die, and as I lay in bed with dad in Aunt Lizzie's house, is vivid in memory now.

After mother's death dad immersed himself in work. He held the position of County Agent in Curry County in addition to his post in that capacity in Roosevelt County. Frank and I were living in a confused and un-real world without mother. Dad hired a wonderful lady to be our "house keeper" with the responsibility of taking care of his two sons. That lady, Mrs. Smith, did take some of our loneliness away ... but nothing can replace a mother's love and care. Mrs. Smith lived with us for about eight or nine months as I remember.

Grandpa and grandmother Will came over for mother's funeral and they took me back with them to the farm in Las Cruces where I stayed for a few weeks. Frank went with grandmother Goodwin; and, as I said, dad worked at those two jobs trying as hard as he could to keep from going to pieces.

I still remember some of the things I experienced on the trip back to Cruces with grandma and grandpa. I remember we stopped in Lincoln and ate a picnic lunch by the side of the road on the banks of the Rio Hondo, a small stream. Grandmother, the historian that she was, told me all about the Lincoln County War and Billy the Kid's evolvement in it. She told me about Pat Garret who finally caught up with Billy at Fort Sumner and killed him in Pete Maxwell's house. I also remember after we passed through Alamogordo and just before we reached the White Sands, we ran into a torrential downpour; one of those sudden heavy rainfalls that occur out in that desert country in the summer time. The deluge was so great that grandpa's car was "flooded out"! But, as grandmother said: "not to worry, Clarence (my grand dad) was there, and he could fix anything"! We remained calm and just like grandmother said, as soon as the downpour subsided, grandpa dried everything out, including the spark plugs, and we were on our way in jig time .

In late August of that year dad came to Cruces and picked me up; then, the two of us returned to Portales. I went back to school and I think Frank started school. That fall dad took me with him to the very last cattle drive on the open range. We met the cowboys and the herd they were driving on the range near the town of Bovina in West Texas, about 50 miles from Portales. It was an experience I shall never forget. We slept out in the open under the stars. We ate with the cowboys, the food from their "chuck wagon", around a fire made with "cow chips " (dung).

As I write this I can see, in my mind's eye of course, the cook taking the lid off the huge "dutch oven" he had buried in the "cow chip" embers giving us a peek at the prettiest, fluffiest sour dough biscuits one could imagine. I can tell you that one or two (if you could eat that many) with some ham and eggs and a little black strap molasses was something the palate would