The Old Dillard Settlement

May 2001

I thought of how many ways Holland has made a difference in our lives, in being a friend, cousin, brother, dad, husband and child of God. He made a difference when he taught Bible class, when he taught our young boys to lead singing as he did for so long with us. He made a difference when he served our country during WW II, in his conduct while he was serving. He was highly praised and as a neighbor he made a difference in our lived, because he set a good example and his helpful, cheerful ways were so that it made it a pleasure to be with him.

Berneta, Holly, Monty and families, I am so sorry, more than I can say, but lets be thankful for the differences he has made in our lives for the good.

Holland, we ill never forget you.

As I think back on Friday night at the visitation hours at the funeral home, there was not only Holland, but also Brother Watts, who was in the adjoining room. Both so very dear.

Brother Watts for many years attended church at Freck. He had a smile and greeting which always made you feel good to have seen him.

Once again, I am sorry for all of you, but again, think of the differences he has made in our lives and I feel that knowing Brother Watts and his family has made a difference in your life, Bruce, in becoming the young gospel preacher who brought us the message, "Making a Difference."

Evidence of this type of existence is still with us today. Lee Davenport once told me how as they plowed the sandy soil on the buffalo, the flintstone arrowheads, we called them, were in their way and if it wasn't something very special and appealing to their eyes, they tossed them out of the fields. They could be sharp to the barefoot while working in the fields. My dad said they would pile them up in the corners of the rail fence. I would even like to have the rail fence, but a lot of women cooked some fine meals with the cookwood made from the rails, so I won't complain. I hoe they had a sharp ax to chop them with.

It is estimated about 400 were at this pioneers knapping campout and folks who came to observe. We must give some of the modern knappers credit for keeping this important historical art alive and growing. Such men are Don Crabtee, J.B. Solberger, Bob Patton, Ron Fuller, Charlie Shewei, John Mondino, Jack Cresson, young Martin Schempp and many others.

Some comments of these young artists:

"I knap to understand what they knew about technology. Writing down the insights builds new tools for archeology."

"It's satisfying to be able to replicate tools that carried mankind through the stone age, especially creating something from the impossible rock."

John Mondino has been knapping these impossible rocks for 30 years, and bob Patton adds another 10 years to his knapping. Forty years is several years to study and do this art.

It was suggested by some of the many campers that Water Creek should sponsor two a year, but the Shipman boy have to do a few other jobs in between, so it is still once a year, although now both sides of the creek will have to be provided for campers, as was the case this year.

One big even of the knappin is the "Ooga Booga," which adults and children enjoy. This is a serious even and colorful, with the big campfire and drums rolling. It is only for members and those who are being initiated into the Ooga Booga. I am an official member now and I cannot say another word.

Thanks to all who participated in this celebration of the remembering the Indians who once kept this wonderful Ozarks territory alive.

We had a delicious breakfast together. Ruby made the most delicious buttermilk biscuits. I had to keep hold of them at all times to keep them from floating away because they were so light.

Once upon a time when a group of young folks, Ruby, George Pyle, Eltis Callahan, their friend Jim Methvin, "Janie" Ruby and Tina's sister, who doesn't want to be called by her name, Walsie, so I won't call her that, and her boyfriend, who also became these girls' husband, were surprised to get to our home and find their hands were black after entering the picket fence gate. When thy got cleaned, somewhere else their hands would appear black. My dad had put the black in may places, which provided the poor teenagers an entirely new experience on a date.

That was an enjoyable time, but Tina continued the talk, saying, " woke up each morning wondering what Uncle Pate would do to me today."

Once upon a time she said Uncle Pate went to the pigpen and gathered a bunch of lice off the pigs. He slipped around and put them on her head and when her boyfriend, Eltis, came to see her, Uncle Pate told him to look on her head and tell her he saw something crawling there. How embarrassed she was, and what a joke to play on a little niece. I am sure she didn't think it was a funny joke at the time, but it is now. I didn't ask how she got them out.

Buck Coker fathered several children. One son was named "River Bill," who was married to Winnie Yocum. Both names are still prevalent today, especially in Lead Hill.

Another son, William named one of his sons "Yellville Bill." He was a noted fiddler and a Confederate soldier and first merchant of Lead Hill.

Another Fiddler of the Coker family, a son of Joe Coker, was Daniel.

Once upon a time, Brice Milum, a resident of Yellville during the Civil War, told Mr. Turnbo a Story. Quote: "I well remember being at Yellville one day in the month of July, 1961, when a call was made for volunteers to join the Confederate Army. A company of men raised in Marion County and the southern par of Taney County, MO., was present. Captain Mitchell marched his company back and forth through the streets of the music of two violins by the hands of Dan Coker and Yellville Bill Coker, who were members of the company. As the soldiers marched along with colors flying at the head of the column, both officers and men extended invitations to the men present to enlist in their ranks. A number of those gallant young men responded to the call of their friends and fell into line to shed their blood for the Sunny South."

Be it a trumpet or violin, music has an influence on us. It makes a difference.

Once upon a time when my Uncle Arthur was a young boy, the boys would saddle up their horses and take off to, shall I say, parts unknown to their parents. Evidently, Uncle Arthur made it to Searcy County one time and saw a good-looking girl he wanted to call his sweetheart, or perhaps he met her wile working on the railroad in Search County. He was quite a fine -- rather tall and his build was that of a strong, healthy and very muscular young man.

Laura Bell Baker was that beautiful girl who was born and raised near Marshall in Searcy County. Her parents were very strict religious people and Laura wasn't allowed to wear makeup. She wanted to wear it, so she would get red paper and put it on her lips and cheeks to look like she had on lipstick and rouge. She, like other girls, I think wanted to "catch" a feller and wanted to look attractive all painted up.

Laura never dated Arthur before they were married. They met and talked and wrote each other letters, which they left under a rock near a spring where the Bakers got their water. Sometimes they would use a tree that had a hole in it for their mailbox. I sure would like to have read some of those letters to see how he proposed to her.

They were married July 30, 1903. She had never met Arthur's parents, Doc and Nancy Dillard, until the day they were married.

Do you supposed she "prettied' herself up with color for her lips and cheeks from red crepe paper on that noted July day?