Focus Magazine Spring 2023

Editors Note

Editors Note

Experience is the collection of past opportunities we’ve known. It holds a wealth of knowledge, and is ours, and ours alone. Some experiences are treasures. Some, we’d gladly give away. But, together they have led us to where we are today.

Opportunities are the potential along the path our life will take. But, now we see the impact of the choices that we make. Some could offer struggles that will put us to the test. While others may open many doors that lead to great success. Great or small, the experiences that have brought us to this day were once the opportunities we chose to take, along the way. So, we’ll use our experience to be the best we can become… and, of the opportunities that lie ahead, we’ll just choose the greatest ones!

This is what Focus Magazine is all about…

This issue of Focus Magazine is filled with stories of people who are experiencing life, taking opportunities, learning new things, setting goals, sharing their talents, enduring struggles, planning ahead, celebrating successes, making a difference, pursuing dreams, taking on challenges, making adjustments, welcoming life… and eagerly waiting to apply what they’ve learned along the way to the opportunities that lie ahead. Focus Magazine celebrates the Panhandle Spirit!

Robert and Kerri Forester

Published by

Robert and Kerri Forester

Content Contributors

John H. Carlson

F. Lee Cornelison

Robert Forester

Della Moyer

Michael Sinks

Brenda Tucker

Clay Tyson

Focus Magazine

P.O. Box 459 • Pampa, Texas 79066-0459

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FOCUS MAGAZINE, The Magazine For the Top O’ Texas P.O. Box 459 • Pampa, Texas 79066-0459 Phone: 806-662-0234

Copyright 2022 by Robert Forester, dba FOCUS MAGAZINE, and the contributors, writers and photographers of FOCUS MAGAZINE. All rights reserved. Reproduction of any story, article, photo, design, art or editorial comment, whole or in part, is prohibited without written permission of the publisher. Letters sent to FOCUS MAGAZINE will be treated as intended for publication. Articles and stories may be submitted for consideration and are subject to editorial review. FOCUS MAGAZINE does not accept responsibility for unsolicited materials. (ISSN #0746-7974)

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SYMPATHY • FUNERALS

Spring 2023

10 The Cow

That Wouldn't Quit

Clay Tyson, Focus Magazine‘s newest contributor, shares the true story of Booker, Texas rancher,Tom Shilling, and his near-death encounter with Momma Cow #279.

18

Chasing Butterflies

Remembering spring, with its weeds, flowers and bugs... Oh, how he loved chasing butterflies!

22

There is Life Here

A church is not a building, it is the people who inhabit it. Challenges, met with faith, have brought about creative changes that have breathed new life into this fellowship.

25 It's a Family Affair

Six siblings look to add purpose to this building by creating a wedding venue and event center.

28 The Bottle Collector

Kelly Baker explains his passion for saving and preserving history by way of finding and collecting, of all things... old bottles!

34 CASA of the High Plains

CASA is raising awareness of National Child Abuse Prevention Month and is encouraging participation in their efforts to support children and families right here in the Panhandle. You can help!

36 George Tyng

White Deer Land Museum’s Anita Gullett brings another article in the series “The Name on the Street.”

Parts of this article appeared in a 1987 issue of Focus Magazine, written by Eloise Lane, called The Man Who Named Pampa

40 Howdy Neighbor

Mernickle Holsters recently relocated their business to South Cuyler, in downtown Pampa. Michael Sinks, with the Woody Guthrie Museum, rolls out the welcome mat and introduces us to his new neighbors!

46 Jumping in on the Backyard Chicken Craze!

With the recent rise in egg prices, many are turning to raising their own birds for the first time. Should I "jump in" on this craze?

50 Home-Grown Tomatoes

Neighbor, how long has it been since you had a vine ripe, fresh-picked, home-grown tomato? Well, that’s too long!

54 Honoring Ronald S. Gooding

The life of former U.S. Army Special Forces/Brigade Surgeon is fondly remembered.

58 Advertiser Index

Thank you advertisers!

About the Cover

Cliff Powers, owner of Mernickle Holsters, is holding one of the pistol holsters that his company proudly manufactures. Mernickle Holsters has recently moved their facility to South Cuyler... just a few doors down from the Woody Guthrie Folk Music Center. Michael Sinks introduces us to this great addition to Downtown Pampa in his article entitled Howdy Neighbor, found on page 40!

"My Mommy reads me

Magazine!"

Liv loves being read to, but prefers to stay occupied with long naps and leisurely strolls at the zoo!

You can stay occupied reading Focus Magazine... after all, it's FREE. There are multiple outlets listed on our advertiser index page, but if you would like to receive FM by mail, subscriptions are available (see the bottom of page 5). A Focus Magazine subscription makes a great gift for someone who wants to “keep up” with Pampa and the Texas Panhandle! That's how Liv keeps up!

Focus Magazine can also be found online at: www.gofocusmag.com

Tom Schilling was a banker by trade.  He graduated from West Texas State in 1972 and after a short stint in the military to fulfill his ROTC requirements, moved back to his hometown of Follett to pursue his dream of owning a cattle ranch.  The town of approximately 500 is located in the extreme northeast corner of the Texas panhandle, just a stone’s throw from the Sooner state line both to the east and the panhandle to the north.  The locals tend to describe their geographical location as being right square in the armpit of Oklahoma. The region is considered “no man’s land” and is not far from the epicenter of the 1930’s dust bowl.  It is a hard place to call home with blistering summers, howling winter winds with snow and ice, and every insect, reptile, and plant that stings, bites, or pokes.

Tom had grown up in the country.  His dad worked at the local Farmers Grain and Equity where he handled feed out in the bins as well as trying to manage a small wheat farm just north of town near the state line.  He died from a heart attack during Tom’s eighth grade year at the age of 44.  Larry, the oldest son, was a senior.  Tom was in middle school, and little brother Scottie was just nine.  Their mother was an LVN and worked at the Shattuck, Oklahoma Newman Hospital many long hours while raising three boys as a single mom.

After moving back home, Tom took a job working at the feed mill and also at the post office, and spent two years working these positions before getting hired on as a teller at the local bank.  From there, he moved up to loan officer and eventually vice president and remained with that organization for over 45 years until retirement.  He was able to purchase his first piece of ground in ’73 and continued adding to his holdings throughout his career.  He wasn’t a cowboy, but certainly he was a cowman.  The banking career was just an essential  requisite to help him pursue his first love which was ranching.

Tom had a banker’s acumen and knew how to make the ranching profitable.  First and foremost was saving money by not spending it on costly help.  He was easy to spot when the bank closed, usually digging postholes and always with a pair of pliers in his back pocket.  His fences were in good shape as were his cows.  When nearing retirement, he pulled the trigger on a center pivot irrigation system which enabled him to dramatically increase his cow numbers on the lush Bermuda and bluestem grass.  He was and still is a bit of a perfectionist.  All his cows were angus based and high quality.  Cows were tagged and numbered, pregnancy checked and wormed, and always carrying plenty of flesh.  He did things the right way and always tried to be as cost efficient as possible.  Members of his family occasionally mentioned that Tom’s tightness with a dollar caused him to squeak just a bit when he walked, but the cows did not reflect any lack of groceries or care.

In the spring of 2015, the annual calving season began on the Schilling’s place.  Tom had strung some hot wires across his heifer calving pasture and as the girls began to calve, he would sort the pairs into their own group where he could provide a lit-

tle extra feed and TLC and also not have to check them at night.  He had purchased a mobile metal and wire cage that attached to his 4-wheeler and he used this to sort the pairs off and work the calves.  His system basically consisted of checking and feeding the cows daily.  If a cow calved, Tom would drive the ATV up to the new baby and through the opening, drop the elevated gate, and then step into the mobile pen to work the calf.  This consisted of vaccinations, ear tag with number, and banding if it was a bull calf.  He would then drive slowly through the hotwire gate with the calf still in the mobile pen and the cow following.  After moving the new arrival into the herd with mommas and babies, he would open the gate back up and let the calf out.

On one particular late February day that year, cow #279 dropped a nice little black bull calf.  As Tom arrived at the field, he noticed the calf which was extremely fresh and only a few hours old.  He rolled out to the pair with his pen, trapped the little feller in his mobile cage, and stepped into the enclosure opposite the cow to begin work on the calf.  Momma was uptight and nervous with the baby being separated and she was racing around the pen, snorting and bellowing.  Tom finished his work on the ground and stepped out on the offside away from the cow.  He was fairly sure he could beat her around the cage, step onto the machine, and head over to the rest of the pairs that were hanging close by on the opposite side of the hotwire gate.

That plan worked really well for about two seconds as the cow caught up with him long before he reached his seat.  Her first charge caught him square and she mashed him into the cage.  Tom went down in a heap with a severely fractured and splintered femur in his left leg.

From this point on, the story just gets unbelievable.  The cow proceeds to roll and mash on him until she gets too tired to continue.  Then she would stand above him, staring and stomping and blowing snot while watching for any sign of movement.  If he twitched or struggled, the torture would begin again.  With the calf still in the square mesh cage and Tom on the ground close by, the cow’s only mission seemed to be rolling him away from her baby.  As the hours crept by and the cow refused to back down, the banker turned rancher realized this could well be the end for him and he was going to have plenty of time to suffer and witness his demise firsthand.

Tom Schilling, banker turned rancher, showing off his calf tagging rig. This is what he was using when #279 attacked.

I’m sitting in a room at Northwest Texas Hospital in Amarillo listening to this story unfold and I have a million questions that I can’t ask fast enough.  His leg is immobilized from the horrible fracture.  As we visit, his wife hands me a phone with a picture of the x-ray.  A steel rod has been hammered down through the length of the femur and what looks to be hay baling wire is wrapped the entire length of the bone, holding broken chunks in along with various screws.  A major artery was cut and Tom casually mentions that he almost bled out before the ordeal was over.  His pants and shirt were both ripped nearly off as the cow had continually rolled him around with her head and stomped on him.

My first question is the most obvious.  How did this pasture ordeal finally end?  The answer takes awhile.  As the cow gradually gets him rolled further away from her baby, she starts running back to check on the calf while keeping an eye on Tom and looking for any movement.  On one of her trips, he slowly reaches into his pocket to retrieve his cell phone.

Now let me stage this scene a bit more accurately and precisely.  Tom had just learned to text on his flip phone the previous week.  For those of us that

can remember, texting on these little demons was an ordeal with lots of button pushing until the correct letter came up.  Add to that the most obvious of issues which is the vast phone wasteland that is Lipscomb County in the desolate corner of the Texas panhandle.  Those of us who live and work here know that there are very few places that service is available.  It is not uncommon to be driving down a lonely highway, top a big hill, and see four cars parked on the side of the road trying to get a text or call to connect.

Tom slowly types out the message, “help cow has me down tilleys by frank”.  He glances at the screen trying not to let the old black bitty see him move.  There are no bars for service.  He raises his arm to get the phone a touch higher, looking and hoping for a connection.  He hits the send button but there is no signal and now she’s back on him snorting and mashing on this threat to her calf.  The scene repeats itself over and over for the next two hours as he lays in the dirt on his back, bleeding and broken and in shock.  Every time he tries to send the text, he gets a notice for “no service”.  He doesn’t know how to copy and paste, so he has to retype the text every try.  And mamma #279 is paying close attention.  If she sees him move, she returns with force.

For over two and a half hours, Tom tries to get a text to send.  The cow pays her respects every time he moves.  He’s bleeding out and busted and cold.    Clouds begin to form and the snow begins to fall.  One big cloud passes straight overhead.  He glances down and has a single bar of service.  He raises his arm, hits send, and miraculously, the text is away.

Scotty is Tom’s oldest son.  His mom and Tom married while he was in grade school and she was working at their family restaurant on main street called the Royal Inn.  Scott and his wife live in Follett where he owns an electric service company.  The phone service in town is only slightly better than where his father now lays.  At the top of main street next to the grain elevators is a parking area that all the kids call signal hill.  On nearly any Saturday night, most of the high school kids in town will be parked at this location, sitting in their cars, talking to friends, and staring at their phones.  Scotty is leaving his shop west of town and headed home.  He decides to take the back way that would drive him by the elevators.  As he passes by, he hears the familiar ding of a text coming in on his phone.  Although the text was a bit cryptic, he knows exactly where his dad is and he begins speeding out there, pushing his truck as fast and hard as it will go.

At this point, I have to interrupt the story and ask Tom exactly what was going on in his mind through this marathon experience.  Let me first say that he is a Godly man.  I used to work for him when I had a water well business and anytime I sent a bill for windmill work, the check came back with a scripture and a photocopied,

Bryan Guymon

#279 is still alive and well, feeling little or no remorse for attacking rancher Tom Shilling!

hand written testimony of his salvation experience in the envelope.  He looks me in the eye and says that through the entire ordeal, he knew that God was with him and that the Lord was at work to help him.  He holds up four fingers and begins to explain.

First, after his leg was busted up and the cow was rolling him around, she finally got him about 15 feet away from her baby and the torture eased up some as she moved back and forth from him to the calf.  Second, he had just learned to text the week before.  Third, the cloud came over and he is certain that it bounced the signal to his phone enabling him to get the text to send.  And finally, Scotty was at the only place in town where a text could be received.  Tom gets a serious lump in his throat as he recites all of this to me.

As Scotty roars out to the north of town, all he can do is second guess his every move and thought.  He pulls through the cattle guard and into the tall bluestem grass and immediately notices the four wheeler parked out in a heavy grass draw with the baby calf still in the pen.  He doesn’t have a gun in the truck so his first thought is to run the cow over.  He floors the truck and is bouncing across the pasture at high speed preparing to

mow her down.  As he braces for impact he sees an arm reaching up in the air and he swerves just in time to avoid running over his father.  He plows into the cow and knocks her to the ground, jumps from the truck, and kneels down to check on his father.  As all this is taking place, he glances over at the cow.  She’s trying to get back up.

Ole #279 has her own ideas of how this is going to play out.  She regains her footing, whirls back to the two intruders, and heads back for more.  Scotty again jumps into the vehicle and starts ramming her with the grill guard on the front of his pickup trying to keep her off his dad.  After every hit with the grill, she recovers and comes back with a vengeance.  All the while Scotty is cursing himself for not having a gun.  He finally parks the truck between the cow and his dad and jumps from the cab to let the calf out of the pen.  He pushes the calf away from the melee and momma finally notices.  She heads out to her baby while Scottie is able to run back to his father.  They finally have some breathing room.  He pulls the four wheeler up next to his dad, and with that and the pickup, there is now protection on two sides.  Scotty leaps up to the top of the cab of his truck and dials 911. For those of us that have tried to make a living

running cows, we are fairly familiar with the psychology of these dumb beasts.  They can make the most patient of men curse and throw tantrums like a child.  That combined with a big dose of Murphy’s Law soon kicks the situation back into high gear.  As Scotty tends to his father on the ground, he looks up to see the baby calf walking back towards them with a nervous momma following.  The baby walks over to the four wheeler, sniffs the wire cage, and then proceeds to step through the gate back inside and lays down.  And as Elton John would say,  “the bitch is back”.   This has become the nightmare that will not end! I keep trying to imagine how poor Tom must have felt.  He’s on the ground and knows that he’s broke bad.  No signal and no relief from the cow.  He had made his peace with God.  He has a good idea that this may be the end and he is ok with that.  Then his rescue finally arrives.  And now the old girl is back on them.  No matter what they do, they just can’t seem to shake this unrelenting momma who is completely controlled by her maternal instincts.

The ambulance finally arrives with Scotty still fighting the cow off his dad.  A couple guys in pickups pull in and together they make a pen around Tom with the ambulance backed up in the middle.  All the while, #279 is still circling and snorting.  The ambulance loads Tom, they head to Shattuck, and a Flight for Life helicopter takes him to Amarillo.

The fractured femur had cut an artery which caused a lot of blood loss.  His clothes were ripped and torn.  Several days after arriving, Tom had another surgery and they drove a rod down through the center of the bone.  The pain wouldn’t leave and three months later he still was unable to put weight on the leg.  They performed another surgery where they removed the shaft that ran through the femur and replaced it with a larger and longer piece of steel.  Not too far down the road, he was up and making progress, albeit a little bit slower than before and now with one leg an inch and a half shorter than the other.

I first wrote about this incident back in February of 2015.  When I was offered the opportunity to write for this magazine, I thought of a couple of stories that I would love to do a follow up on.  This was my choice.  I called Tom and went back to see him for a visit and an update.  As we talked, I asked him what became of the infamous #279. Did he have the last laugh and eat her on a bun?  With a straight face and no emotion he informed me that he still owns her and she turned out to be a

great cow as long as a man doesn’t mess around with her babies!  I told him I absolutely had to have a picture of the assailant.

The best part of the entire story, other than the positive ending, was related to me by Scotty some time later.  It portrays the spirit of those working the land.  It is something only a father could say.  As the emergency medical crew was pushing the stretcher up into the ambulance Tom looked Scott straight in the eye.  He held up his hand for the technicians to stop and then he said, “Scotty, would you mind finishing up feeding and checking cows for me?”

That, folks, is a cowman!

Tom Schilling casually props up his boot showing the 1.5" corrective sole needed due to the difference in his leg lengths. A result of the cow attack.

Chasing Butterflies Chasing Butterflies

Some of the earliest memories of childhood are colored by the ecstatic joy of running, shrieking laughter while chasing butterflies, all kinds of butterflies. And, as most of us can attest, they are almost uncatchable. That is, until late summer and early fall. That is the season when most butterfly species die. They have mated, laid eggs for spring emergence after spending late summer as a caterpillar, then a winter chrysalis, and finally the miracle of flight.

A few years ago, I started studying indigenous plant life in the Texas panhandle, not just the easy to spot plants along the highway, but also tiny, almost micro flora beneath our feet. Of course, as with almost everything these days, “There’s an app for that.” A quick click of the smartphone camera and the plant is immediately identified, not just by genus, family, order and class, but also uses, medicinal or not.

Observing the common milkweed became very interesting. From the time it emerges in spring, there are specific insects that frequent the stem and leaves. I started noticing, year after year, that the same bugs were present in the same order. First come tiny little ants that appear to be drinking a moist residue, then beetles, then aphids; then, just before the arrival of the Monarch Butterfly, there comes a fierce looking black hornet. By now, the seed pods are swollen and offer a very popular feeding spot for the hornet. The flower of the milkweed is inconspicuous, greyish green, but apparently very tasty.

Within a couple weeks of the black hornets, the first Monarch Butterfly will appear. One would think a battle would ensue with the

hornet and Monarch apparently dining on the same areas of the plant, but everyone seems fairly congenial. The feeding frenzy continues for several weeks until an autumnal cooling event signals that everybody needs to ‘wrap it up.’

And just when it seems this insect/plant symbiosis is finished, tiny little greenish yellow caterpillars begin to crawl around on the stems of the milkweed. The worm begins to grow and little chewed out holes begin to appear on the leaves. One day, he stops eating and begins spinning a chrysalis. Within the DNA of the Monarch is a magnetic urgency to return to an ancestral home. Every Monarch is on a voyage to return to this ‘home’ base. As a consequence to my hobby of observing this beautiful little creature I’ve started harvesting and distributing the milkweed seed in hopes of supplying for feeding stops along the way. Fact: the Monarch caterpillar will only feed on Milkweed, nothing else.

There is Life Here

By Brenda Scott Tucker

For over 50 years, a familiar roofline has stood above most buildings in the area north of the Pampa Youth and Community Center. Although the design of the building made it recognizable, it is more than a building. A church is the people, not the building nor the steeple. And this is still a church.

Change is in the air at 1633 North Nelson; but change has been the norm for a while now. Initially, First Christian Church, chartered in 1906, and at this address since 1968, was part of the Disciples of Christ. Realizing they no longer held to those tenets and were not in step with that creed, plans were being made to do something different. With low attendance and despite efforts to do all they knew to do, numbers continued to wane. A resigning pastor who found a small church in which to finish out his ministry and retire brought up the idea of merging with a larger denomination in Amarillo. It seemed like a plausible solution and the First Christian Church came under the leadership of Hillside Christian Church. It became Hillside Christian Church, Pampa Campus.

Change is hard. With that change, many long-time members from pioneer families in the Panhandle, as well as other members, left in search of other places to worship. Giving up the church that had such a deep connection on so many levels was unbearable for some. There was history in those walls. Letting go of traditions was difficult. There were hurt feelings, miscommunications, and a terrible sense of loss on both sides: those who left and those who stayed.

The loss of members and the onset of a pandemic took a toll on a congregation that was already dwindling. Many people became comfortable “attending church

from home” and never came back. But church is not a spectator sport; it is a place to connect with others and worship and serve together.

With growth not occurring as expected, Hillside decided to withdraw and offered the building back to the church. Unfortunately, they could not afford to purchase it and so the building was placed up for sale. Hillside hoped that it would remain a church under the new ownership.

While eating at Finley’s eating, a family whose children attend Community Christian School, housed in the church since 2014, received a call that the building was for sale. Concern for the school and her students was uppermost in the minds of this group as they heard the news. Conversation ensued. They did not want to uproot the school and make it move again. Right there, the family felt moved to do something to prevent that from happening. It was a quick decision; they made an offer on the building. And Hillside agreed.

Now what?

After having persevered through hard times, weathering many changes, a remnant of the congregation remains. Three of those members shared what is happening now. While they still feel the deep loss of church family and those miss those who worshiped with them for so many years, they are seeking God’s will as they

slowly find their identity. It is not their goal to build a large congregation. They pray that God will lead people who want to follow Biblical teaching to come and be a part of the fellowship of their church. They feel that they are in a healing and restoration process and recognize God working in them and through them for a plan they cannot yet see. Faith is what drives them. Faith that they are where they are supposed to be, despite all the changes... and faith in what is to come. One member referred to Isaiah 43:19 “See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” (NIV) They are simply following in faith.

Christian Community Church of Pampa, the new name, is a non-denominational fellowship. Bible Study is held at 9:30 on Sunday mornings followed by Worship at 10:30. Children’s Bible Study and Children’s Church are provided. And communion is offered every week, as has been the tradition of this body of believers. They are a Christian congregation serving the Pampa community, aimed at seeking, engaging, and encouraging others through a life-changing Christian journey. “We seek to be a loving, friendly community that worships God, and serves others. We place a high priority on teaching from the Bible and following the example of Jesus. Come as you are-we’d love to get to know you.”

Despite what stories may have circulated, this church still has a heartbeat. They are alive. And their doors are open to those seeking Biblical teaching who want to worship and serve using their gifts and talents.

Dennis & Donna Roark, owners of B & B Pharmacy, invite you to come in and see why more and more people are switching to a “home-owned” pharmacy, one that cares about their customers and their families. You will appreciate their “old-fashioned” and friendly service, as well as the other benefits that can’t be found in large chain stores. Stop by!

It’s a Family Affair

By Brenda Scott Tucker

When a group of six siblings feel a calling to buy a building, there is usually a purpose from the outset. Not always, though. In this case, the move was made to salvage a facility wherein a school resided – a school to which this family has a deep connection – a school which had changed locations numerous times during its existence. It had been a large part of their lives and, as such, they could not bear to see the school kicked out of its current location. So, when the facility that housed it came up for sale, they put their heads together and bought it.

Now what? They own a church building with a high cost of upkeep. The school can’t cover the cost. The church which still meets there cannot cover the cost. This resourceful group of people began to brainstorm to determine the best use of the facility to allow both the church and the school to remain. It is an incredible facility with a beautiful sanctuary, large gathering place with a stage, three kitchens, classrooms, all nicely renovated by the previous owner. Plus, there is a big gymnasium out back and a large unused lot. Beside the obvious, what else could it be?

Each member of the family has their own set of skills that they bring to the table. And, because they all get along well, and work well together, this was just another opportunity for them to do something positive. Not originally from Pampa, one sibling and her husband moved here in 2006 and bought a movie theater which they have turned into a thriving venue enjoyed by many. A second sibling came to help with that theater in 2008 and her husband began a martial arts studio, as an opportunity for the residents of Pampa... all while traveling back and forth to Colorado in his role as a firefighter. Now retired, he is the Emergency Management Coordinator for the city of Pampa. This family showed up to contribute to Pampa, and they continue to do so.

After much thought and discussion, the idea to create an event center was born. This facility has much to offer! The large former fellowship hall can host large parties and events, with a kitchen attached. In fact, the family has used it for their own Christmas Eve celebration, because it is large enough to accommodate all of them and their spouses, their children, and others because this facility is so large and has such a wonderful kitchen. A stage is front and center, ready for whatever comes to mind. A recent sweet sixteen birthday party was a beautiful event. Tralee Crisis Center held their banquet there. The gymnasium, available to rent for teams to practice, or for other uses, also has a kitchen and bathrooms. It is a diverse facility.

As one of the few churches with a center aisle, it is often in demand for weddings. But the sanctuary is only the beginning of what they

can provide for weddings. There is a sound system and lighting. There is a bride’s room and a groom’s room, created so that each wedding party can be ready in privacy. And the groom’s room is in a hallway that leads directly into the sanctuary. These beautiful rooms were put together by one of the family members, using her creative skills.

Two large hallways are dedicated to the school and nothing else. Just recently, the school has begun to have chapel in the beautiful sanctuary, a plus for the students who were not allowed to use it during the previous ownership.

There are four entities in this large building: The Facility itself (the overall building), The Church, The School, and now, the Event Center, called Monroe’s. Monroe’s is a family name, appropriately. The siblings wanted to honor their late father whose middle name was Monroe, and thus, they named the Event Center after him.

In an act of literally “circling the wagons”, they have drawn in family members to collaborate in the creation of this venue. The four women who met with this writer were two sisters, a sister-in-law, and the wife of the late father who had lost his life to cancer. They encouraged their matriarch to leave behind her newly built home, that was now too large, to come to Pampa to be with family. And she did.

There is division of labor among all of those involved – there is a building administrator who oversees the needs of the property, one who handles the financial side of the entire facility, and separately, one who handles the fi-

nancial side of the event center. There is one in charge of security and one who handles all of the technology. They have a website (www.monroeseventcenter.com) that will show all the information about this beautiful place. Monroe’s can offer table set up, linens, light table decorations if needed, and they are working on putting together a list of vendors whom they can recommend. Due to the sheer size of the room and the attached kitchen, there are innumerable uses for this facility: weddings, parties and showers, banquets, receptions, reunions, school events, and more. The event center has smaller rooms available for meetings, as well. There is a board room that seats 12 and other rooms that can accommodate up to 75 people. The large room can handle up to 250. Lots of possibilities.

On top of all this, there are ideas for possible broader usage. This family does not sit still.

The Bottle Collector

We have all heard the old saying, "One man's trash is another man's treasure." Pampa resident, Kelly Baker is the perfect example of a person who takes this to the next level. Baker's passion and specialty is digging up history in the form of bottles discarded during the Red River Wars of the 1870's.

Kelly was a member of the team of amateur historians and researchers who were instrumental in hunting for and finding many of the lost battle sites of the Red River Wars. Most notable of this group was the late Gerald Wright, whose collection, in part, fills the halls of the White Deer Land Museum's Red River Wars Wing. Kelly and Gerald spent many hundreds of hours searching the Texas Panhandle and Oklahoma for artifacts in order to help discover, document, and preserve our Texas Panhandle history.

by Robert S. Forester

Left: Bottle collector Kelly Baker is holding a flask or "pumpkin seed" bottle. This bottle type named for it's pumpkin seed shape, was most likely used to hold alcohol used for "medicinal" purposes. Opposite: Bottles from the Gerald Wright collection.

Kelly got his start as a bottle collector while on one of these hunts. The story goes that Gerald yelled, "Hey Kelly... I found you something!" That "something" was an old, fully intact 1870's bottle, a probable relic of the Red River Wars. Since this find, Kelly has been hooked on finding these fragile relics and adding them to his collection.

In addition to the collecting of, Kelly has amassed a wealth of knowledge about the subject of antique bottles and many consider him an expert on the subject. Based on how a bottle was made, "I can usually narrow down the date of when a bottle was made, within about 10 years." stated Kelly. He went on to explain how old bottles were made... blown by hand into metal molds. These molds were

in pieces that were joined together and used to shape the molten glass. Where the molds connected, seams or ridges in the bottles were created. These small seams go unnoticed by the untrained eye, but they give Kelly information that helps him with the identification. Around the year 1910, automatic bottle making machines were developed and, according to Kelly, bottles manufactured with such equipment are easily identified. This helps to date many of the bottles found, just by noting how the bottle is made.

Bottles are graded (and valued) on condition, color and rarity. Clear and amber are the most common colors, where the cobalt (blue) color is the least common. Obviously, bottles that are broken are not desired, and when digging in a 1870's or 1880's trash pit, many are broken. Kelly estimates that the ratio is 15 to 20 broken, cracked, or chipped bottles to one fully intact bottle.

There are two types of bottle surfaces. Smooth-surfaced bottles, which are commonly called "slicks," and bottles with raised or embossed letters that have been molded into the glass. The embossing on bottles usually contains the name of the product that it held or the company that manufactured it.

Whiskey, wine, and beer bottles, as well as medicine and ink bottles are

Below: A row of ink wells. Right: Kelly explains the different shapes of ink wells commonly found at dump sites. Kelly can give an approximate date of manufacture by looking at how they were made.

common in the pits (they found and meticulously searched.) Kelly was sorting through a variety of these kinds of bottles when I caught up with him at the White Deer Land Museum one recent Saturday morning. He was going through boxes of artifacts, including bottles that were found in storage at the home of the late Gerald Wright.

Bottles that have spent a century or more under ground, exposed to dirt and moisture, have a white scale coating. This scaling does not come off with water or chemicals... at least not any chemical that is available today due to it being banned by the EPA years ago. Kelly, however, has discovered how to restore bottles using an interesting method that effectively removes the scale. He has come up with a way to mount a bottle inside a tumbler. He adds an abrasive medium to the inside and outside of the bottle. The scaling is removed after several weeks of tumbling. Embossed glass requires careful monitoring to ensure that the lettering is not worn down too much. "This process is similar to using a rock tumbler. You start out with a coarse abrasive, move to medium, and then to fine. Doing this can make a bottle look like new." said Kelly.

I have to admit, before my visit with Kelly and before getting "educated" on antique, Red River War era bottles, I would not have considered this to be a very interesting subject. Yet, Kelly's extensive knowledge, injected with his passion on the subject, quickly changed my mind. As he held to inspect each bottle, I could see the wheels turning in his head. What did each bottle hold, and who used it? How did it get to be where it was found? Each bottle, each artifact, though small, plays a big part in telling our Panhandle history. I am thankful for Kelly, and others like him, who have spent time with boots on the ground, discovering and adding to the story of who we are.

Top: The round scar in the center of the bottom of hand blown bottles is called a pontil mark. It is made by the punty, or rod that held the glass for the glassblower. Opposite: Bottles from the Gerald Wright collection.

CASA of the High Plains Focuses on Supporting Families during National Child Abuse Prevention Month

April is National Child Abuse Prevention Month, and CASA of the High Plains is raising awareness of the need for more dedicated members of the community to step up and become CASA volunteers, and help end child abuse and neglect, through supporting children and their families.

CASA volunteers, or Court Appointed Special Advocates, are everyday people from all walks of life who are recruited and specially trained to advocate for children in foster care and provide a consistent, reliable adult presence for them during a difficult time in their life.

“Our volunteers’ first priority is to keep families together whenever safe and possible,” said Alissha Jefferis, executive director of CASA of the High Plains “Foster care is only a temporary solution to the problems at hand. We need to create long term support networks that work to care for families, make reunification a possibility, and help break the cycle for the next generation.”

CASA volunteers are assigned to one child or sibling group to advocate for their best interest in court, in school and in other settings. They get to know the child and everyone involved in their life, such as their parents and other family members, foster parents, therapists, caseworkers and teachers, in order to develop a realistic picture of the child’s unique situation. They engage those important to the child and family in order to build a network of support around them, so that the family has access to support and resources after the case ends. They make recommendations to the judge overseeing the child’s case, with the goal of ensuring that the child is safe and the family has the resources, support and healthy relationships needed to heal.

Locally, CASA of the High Plains served 109 children in the foster care system in Donley, Gray, Hansford, Hemphill, Lipscomb, Roberts, Ochiltree and Wheeler counties in 2022. This April, consider stepping up to make a difference by becoming a CASA volunteer. Local Volunteer, Janice Masters, says about volunteering for CASA, “I realize that I can't help them all. But as a CASA, I work hard to make a positive difference in the lives of my CASA kids and their families. One of the best parts of being a CASA is a good outcome for the kids; either they get to go home to parents who have over-

come the difficulties that caused their kids to be removed... or they are adopted by a loving family." Another volunteer, Nama Webb, says about volunteering for CASA, “When people say they can’t do what we do, I’m reminded what a Pastor told me one time, when we face things that seem too hard to do, we must remember the problem still exists... and I want to be part of the solution. Look for things you can do to help, we can all do something.”

"There is always a need for more CASA volunteers,” said Jefferis. “By becoming a volunteer, you can take your efforts beyond just awareness, and do your part to help support children and families in crisis right here in our community.”

When reunification is not a possibility for the children they serve, CASA volunteers work to find others that can provide a positive, healthy and loving environment. These can include relatives, friends or other adults that are important in the child’s life—keeping a child connected to their home community.

“We at CASA of the High Plains always hope for the day when CASA, foster care and a national month dedicated to child abuse prevention are no longer needed because all children are growing up safe, secure and supported with their families,” said Jefferis. “Until then, we will continue to seek more members of the community to join our growing movement so that we can provide a CASA volunteer for every child who needs one.”

April is National Child Abuse Prevention Month. If you see abuse, report it to 1 (800) 252-5400 or go to www.txabusehotline.org. If a child’s life is in danger, call 911. For more information on CASA, visit www.BecomeaCASA.org or CASAHP.org 806-669-763

Janice Masters Nama Webb

STATE FARM INSURANCE COMPANIES

HOME OFFICES: BLOOMINGTON, ILLINOIS

“Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there.”®

Sheila Webb Agent

George Tyng

The Name on the Street

Story by Eloise Lane and Anita Gullett

FAREWELL

I had intended before leaving here, to devote a couple of weeks to making farewell visits to the people of these counties, who have always treated me so kindly since May, 1886. Circumstances compel me to forego that pleasure and to take this method of expressing my appreciation and of wishing them continued prosperity.

During the seventeen years I have attended no social gatherings, made no social visits, nor amused myself in this part of Texas; but have stuck to my employer's business and have acquired no private property or interests of my own. This has not been from pride, or moroseness, or want of confidence in the country. Far to the contrary.

This people is my people; the kind I like; the kind I have been with from boyhood; with this difference, that the hard times of a few years ago weeded them out and left here a more select community than is usual in a frontier country, of as fine a people as anyone could wish to live with. I am not seeking votes and I fear I may not see you all again; so this is not "taffy," but is only a fact that a great many other people have also noticed.

This country has a bright future and I have often wanted to share in it. But it seemed right to let my employer always feel that his business here was not neglected through my using time that he was paying for, on any private business or amusement of my own.

My temper is quick and is apt to lend more energy than courtesy to my language. Where it has hurt any good man's feelings, I beg him to accept my regrets and to forgive and forget. I have (thank God!) two or three enemies, of the kind a man ought to have, with whom I should like to converse a little before going. But we all have to give up some little pleasures.

The property in my care here has always been respected, without recourse to Courts or Rangers. The good will of a good community is the finest of protection, and nowhere on Earth are just rights better respected than here.

In seventeen years no one has, in word or tone, shown me even any disrespect that a reasonable man could resent.

Though no one has expected me, a hired man, to grant favors at my employer's expense, yet favors without number have been done to me and much help voluntarily given. I have a good memory.

Last year, in circulating a petition (to organize Gray County and to select a county seat), I went around to our people's houses for the first time; it was just like visiting kinfolks.

Now, with all that experience, how could I help taking away with me the warmest kind of friendship for you folks?

I do take it and sincerely desire God's choicest blessings on you.

Good bye, George Tyng

Pampa, Texas, March 8th 1903

Tyng left White Deer Lands for several reasons. He was disheartened by his failure to secure the county seat for Pampa. He and Russell Benedict, Foster's assistant, had differed on the method of selling land. His wife was in poor health and he felt that he should provide more financial security for his family which consisted of his wife, Elena, and their three sons, Charles, George McAlpine and Francis Carillo.

Tyng had been planning to return to his mining interests when he left White Deer Lands. On January 3, 1902, he was listed as one of the locators of a claim in American Fork Canyon, Utah, twenty miles southeast of Salt Lake City.

On March 8, 1903, the Miami Cheif printed George Tyng's farewell letter to "his people" in the area of White Deer Lands. Many old timers kept copies of this letter as priceless possessions because it expressed, so well, the personality and character of the man who wrote it.

After Tyng joined Francis at the mine, the two men spent the winter in a tiny cabin above the upper tunnel, with two of its walls cut from solid rock.

The work at the mine was so expensive and discouraging that Tyng had about decided to leave when his lease expired at the end of 1904. But one day a miner, working on a car track, drove his pick into a high spot in the floor and rich lead carbonate sparkled in the light of his candle. A few days' work revealed a fortune in silver and lead. The rich, soft carbonate flowed into loading chutes and seemed to occur in limitless quantities.

On November 19, 1904, Tyng wrote to his good friend, Jesse Wynne, at Pampa: "We had arranged for Francis to go about October 10 to Victoria and take his mother to St. Louis while I intended to pass a few weeks among friends around Pampa, as I dislike crowds and confusion of fairs. But about October 1, Francis broke into a large pocket of good ore from which he has been taking over $200.00 a day profit with expectation of continuing until danger of snowslides (avalanches) drives his men out of these high mountains until spring."

"Of course, that has knocked out the St. Louis plan and I have stayed to help him make his preparation for winter. I expect to go to New York next week to meet my wife and to get acquainted with our latest daughter-in-law, Charlie's wife. I shall be so anxious to get back to Francis that I shall be unable to go or come via Pampa. But though we may not see you until next year, we remember our friends and often talk of you all."

While in New York, Tyng obtained an extension of his lease. Back in Utah, he erected a new boardinghouse and other mine buildings. Francis,(for whom Francis Street in Pampa was named) enrolled for a term at the Colorado School of Mines to study mining methods.

Tyng paid from seventy-five cents to one dollar above the prevailing daily wage and hired the very best cooks in order to attract good miners to the isolation of Miller Hill.

That summer he purchased the Kalamazoo claims near the Miller mine, an old lead-silver property. He put his youngest son, Francis, in charge of a crew at the Wyoming Tunnel there. The Tyngs called this operation the Arizona Lease. A few miners lived at Dutchman Flat, two miles away down a steep trail. American Fork, the nearest town, was 18 miles to the southwest over a rough, locally owned toll road down a long abandoned railroad.

That summer he purchased the Kalamazoo claims near the Miller mine, an old lead-silver property. He put his youngest son, Francis, in charge of a crew at the Wyoming Tunnel there. The Tyngs called this operation the Arizona Lease.

The mine was, just below the top of Miller Hill, a 10,000-foot peak surrounded by rugged canyons and high mountains. Just above the mine, from a ridge between two snow-capped crags of the Wasatch Mountains, it was possible to see fifty miles in several directions.

TRAGEDY IN AMERICAN FORK CANYON, UTAH

The winter of 1905-06 brought exceptionally heavy snowfall. Western newspapers began to carry daily reports of death and destruction caused by avalanches in high mining camps. George Tyng and his son, Francis, felt reasonably safe as they had built their camp among big pines away from known snowslide patterns. Soon after Christmas, Francis left to attend college at Stanford, while his father remained to manage the mine.

In Victoria, Texas, on January 15, 1906 Elena Tyng wrote to her husband:

"Your last letter of December 29 brought the good news that you would leave for home no later than January 10. Here it is the 15th and no telegram or letter from you. I have come to the conclusion that you are either snowbound or too sick to write. I am glad for your sake you did not come this past week, for we have had the worst spell of cold rainy weather this winter.

I know it is a dreadful long and tiresome journey to take just to see me. But I have made my mind up that once I get to the mine, you will have hard work in getting rid of me. I shall not be away from you if I can have any say about it."

It was almost as if Elena had a intuitive premonition of impending tragedy when she wrote her last letter to George Tyng --- a letter he never read.

Shortly after noon on January 19, 1906, Tyng was working on papers in his office, a little lean-to some distance from the rest of the camp. Suddenly a tremendous cascade of snow swept over the building, smashing it down on top of him and burying him under fifteen feet of packed snow.

The entire crew at the mine hurried out to search for their employer. As darkness fell, they found Tyng's body, badly bruised, with a pencil still clasped between frozen fingers. A nail from a falling roof beam had penetrated his skull and killed him instantly.

Several men carried the body to a cabin. As they entered, the strong wind ripped the door from its hinges. Fearing that wolves would mutilate the corpse if they left, the tired miners stood guard all night while stinging snow blew in on them from outside.

Early the next morning the miners built a crude sleigh to carry the corpse down to American Fork. Two of the miners, who had left the lease to notify relatives, spread the news and a rescue party started up the canyon to meet the exhausted miners coming down. Citizens of American Fork were shocked and grieved to learn of the tragedy.

Tyng was loved by his miners not only because of the extra high wages he paid but also because of his sincere interest in their families and homes. He encouraged the miners to buy homes and use their wages for the good of their families. He had raised the mortgage of more than one man in danger of losing his home.

Tyng's will was read after his sons, George McAlpine and Francis, arrived in American Fork. Everyone was surprised to learn that Tyng had requested to be buried on a little knoll on Kalamazoo Flat where he had often remarked: "What grander monument could a person wish than to be surrounded by the beautiful hills and scenery."

A private service was held on Friday, January 26, and a public service was held in the Presbyterian Church Chapel the following Sunday. George McAlpine wrote to his mother that his father's face was "calm and smiling, he looks as if he were asleep in the midst of a beautiful dream."

Tyng's body was carried back up the canyon and buried on January 30, on the shoulder of Miller Hill, one quarter mile east of the mine. Later a white picket fence was built around the grave.

On April 2, 1989, W. Dan Proctor of Pleasant Grove, Utah, wrote to Charles Tyng of Santa Fe, New Mexico. Charles is the son of Francis and the grandson of George. Proctor, claim owner and claim lease holder of a large portion of the American Fork Mining District, has opened and mined (1980 and 1983) the Silver Bell Mine, which is less than a mile from where George Tyng is buried on Miller Hill.

At least once a year, Proctor has made repairs to Tyng's grave. He describes the location as "a very beautiful spot with some of the best alpine scenery Utah has to offer." Proctor plans to write a book about Tyng's life because of his respect for the place and the stories he has heard about the man buried there.

(Information obtained from "George Tyng's Last Enterprise" by Laurence P. James. Journal of the West, July, 1969, and material sent to the White Deer Land Museum by Charles Tyng.)

Howdy -Neighbor-

By Michael Sinks

Regular Focus readers will know I usually write something about the Woody Guthrie Folk Music Center because that's where you can find me Tuesday through Friday from 10 am until 5pm or even later on Friday evenings when our jam session is going strong. Now, that shameless plug is out of the way, (for now) I'll get on to what I was going to talk about, or write about, I should say.

I was in our little place there at 320 S. Cuyler, (see what I mean?) when an unfamiliar gentleman walked through the door. He introduced himself as Cliff Powers, owner of Mernickle Custom Holsters, and my new neighbor down at 304 S. Cuyler. He told me he was mighty glad to find the Woody Guthrie Folk Music Center was right down the street and I told him I was mighty glad to have a new neighbor of his 'caliber'. I didn't really say that, but I wish I had! So, I answered some of his questions and then he proceeded to tell me about his custom holster shop. I guess I nodded a few times and he proceeded to tell me, "I don't think you understand. This is a big deal." As he started filling me in about his journey into this business, his excitement grew as he explained the roots of the company and where they were now and some of his plans for the future and I knew right away, this indeed was, a big deal. His enthusiasm was contagious. I don't remember all that he told me but much of his story is right there on the company website, www.mernickleholsters.com, and I'll just share it with you now, straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.

Mernickle Holsters has been producing championship, quality holsters since the mid-1970s.

Founder Bob Mernickle started making a holster for himself to compete in World Fast draw. Using his knowledge of the sport he went on to set 18 world fast draw speed records out of his holsters, some of which are still unbroken.

The legacy of Mernickle Holsters is continuing with the new Owners.

Cliff Powers is a US Army Retiree with over 22 years of shooting experience in multiple disciplines. With his wife Lisa and daughter Hayley, they bring their own artistic knowledge of leather work and competitive shooting to a proven design. The entire family are competitive members of the Single Action Shooting Society as well as the Cowboy Fast Draw Association.

"The championship quality and craftsmanship of our holsters are second to none. Each of our holsters comes with the same cutting-edge designs as those when the company was founded. All holsters are made with the end user in mind. No matter what the discipline!

If you are a competition shooter, our holsters will make you the best you can be. Our concealed carry line will max out the concealment yet give you a smooth and extremely fast draw.

The company embodies three basic rules. Safety first, followed by function, that is they have to work and work well.

Owner, Cliff Powers shows off the most popular holster they make. Popular with law enforcement officers.

Then lastly, they must look good. Period! A good working product does not have to be ugly! Our Holsters are handmade right here in the USA and only use the highest quality leather."

After my initial conversation with Cliff, I thought a little piece in Focus Magazine would be a fine way to welcome Mernickle Custom Holsters into the neighborhood and the downtown Pampa community. (Yes everyone! Downtown does extend south of the railroad tracks!) All I had was the information from the website and I thought I should dig a little deeper. So, I walked down the street to talk to him about it and he was out of town promoting the business. I met with Cliff’s daughter, Hayley and she was kind enough to add her take on this family journey.

Haley’s Story

"Back in 2012, my dad and I didn’t get along all that much. Teenage daughter, military dad, there was a lot of tension between us. One day my mom had finally had enough and told us we needed to find something to do together to bond and help build our relationship. After some research, I came across the sport of cowboy action and learned that there was a club only a short drive from us. So, we packed up and went down to check it out. It was love at first sight. My dad and I shot together in the sport for a few months until we went to the state shoot. He made a bet with me that if I won my category, he would buy me a new set of holsters. Well, $800 later he learned not to make bets with me. Soon after my mom started shooting with us as well, and we decided that we were going to start making our own rigs because they were expensive for several people. This is where our love for leather work sparked. Past this, we made rigs for several friends and family members. We called it Howlin Wolf Leather. We shot for several years and made many friends in the holster business, one being Bob Mernickle. We were not close friends but we had shared rigs and gotten opinions from him as he was a huge person in the holster business. In 2019, Bob approached us and asked if we would like to buy his company as he was looking to retire. On a whim, we said yes because, well... why not? My parents asked me to join them. At the time I had graduated college with two degrees and was working as a psychologist for children with autism. I wanted a little adventure so I took a leap of faith and left my job to run the company with them. It has been 4 years of struggle and pure joy. We

Haley demonstrates their laser leather cutter. This Italian made machine was developed for the Italian shoe manufacturing industry.

Leather Carving

love every second of what we do, it was scary and difficult to take that leap into a company that we didn’t know would make it or not, but it has been the best decision we ever made. We now are the primary holster company for several major gun companies including Ruger, Colt, Taylors & Co, and many more as well as several gun shops. We also have two international dealers, one in New Zealand and we provide all of the holsters for the Vancouver city police and secret service departments. We still shoot the sport and try to attend as many competitions as we can because that’s truly where our love for this company came from.

My dad served in the military for 22 years before retiring and taking on a world of other jobs including owning a rock-climbing company, police officer, and several others. My mom may be the quiet one but she is always right there with us, supporting my dad in everything he does and supporting me in all of my adventures. I married Jacob Gething a year ago and he took up the sport and helped and supported me in the company almost instantly. We are now building our dream home in our spare time, so it’s safe to say we are sticking around Pampa for quite some time."

Thanks, Hayley

There you have a short story of Mernickle Holsters up until now. I’m sure there will be many more chapters in the months and years to come. I encourage you to check out some of their beautiful craftsmanship and see what they have to offer. There is nothing plain about this leatherwork. They call it custom for a reason. It is exquisite! Let’s welcome Cliff, Lisa, and Hayley to Pampa and wish them much success in this exciting endeavor.

Editors note…

Having an interest in leather work, Robert and I were intrigued with this story and had our sights on meeting these newcomers… to take some pictures as they make their new home in the downtown scene. I just happened to find them putting the last touches on their custom-designed retail/storefront. Walking through the front door, I found myself standing right in the middle of Tombstone, in the Old West. The walls were covered with hand-painted buildings and scenery to set the stage. And, even though blue skies and fluffy white clouds covered the ceiling, it seemed that gun-slinging bank robbers could appear out of nowhere, followed by a sheriff and his deputes… and a showdown/shoot-out could have happened at the drop of a hat! This setting was designed and created by a group of very talented friends of the family who moseyed on over to Downtown Pampa to help create something very special for the very special folks at Mernickle Holsters. It was completed just in time to celebrate their fourth anniversary… and the grand opening of their new location!

Owners Cliff, Lisa, and Hayley were generous with their time, giving me the greatest and most thorough tour. I was intrigued with their processes and admired their craftsmanship and attention to detail. But, what impressed me the most about being with these people is the pride that they take in creating and sharing their products, the excitement that they have for the future of their company, and the joy that they get from working together.

If you have the time and want to do yourself a favor, go down and shake hands with these great folks! This father/mother/daughter, and their team, will share their story, their passion, and their beautiful handiwork… and will put a smile on your face, sure as shootin’!

Kerri

During the Mernickle Holster Open House, western gunfight reenactments were performed by a group from the New Mexico Gunfighters Association. (www.newmexicogunfighters.com)

An industrial stitcher used to sew the leather holster components.

During Mernickle Holster's Open House Event that was held on April 1st, there were several activities for kids. This included leather stamping (right) and quick-draw lessons (above) with cap guns. There was a very heavy emphasis on firearm safety, "do not touch a firearm!"

This is what's happening at the Woody Guthrie!

And now as promised, more shameless plugs for the Woody Guthrie Folk Music Center at 320 S Cuyler. We are open daily Tuesday through Friday from 10 am until 5 pm and the jam session takes place every Friday evening from 6 pm until 8:30. I am glad to show the place outside of those hours as well.

Our Community Concert Series is going strong this year. We just hosted Louisiana musicians, ‘Ordinary Elephant’ in February, what an amazing couple. They were anything but ordinary. The Randy Boys were here in late March. The perfect beginning to a 2023 of spectacular music!

• Thursday, April 20th we have an exciting young man from the middle of Missouri, Forrest McCurren. Tackling topics such a; wise words from waitresses, heartbroken high school football standouts, and tattooed trailer park lovers, McCurren writes songs for good people that got bad grades in school, are drunk on dreams, and still trying to figure out if life is sour or sweet.

• May 30th, we have ‘Goldpine’, a very innovative and eclectic duo based in Nashville. Benjamin and Kassie Wilson are winners of the 2022 Rocky Mountain Songwriters Contest among other notable achievements.

• June 22nd Ruth Ellen Lynch and Jazz Plus out of Amarillo, will be entertaining us with many jazz standards we know and love.

• Thursday, July 6, we will be hosting Amarillo singer/songwriter, Joel White. Joel is a member of our newly created High Plains Songwriters group based right here in Pampa and will likely have a special guest join him.

• Saturday October 7th. Our Annual Celebration in Tribute to Woody will be held at the Pampa Senior Citizens Center with an exceptional meal and live music by Fossil River band and dancing and door prizes.

Finally, we are so lucky to be able to announce super guitar picker, Beppe Gambetta will be here on October 12. You might guess that Beppe is not from around here. This will be a very special appearance.

There will be a couple more acts that aren’t listed, as we are still looking for dates that will work for everyone. As you can see, we are trying to bring in outside entertainment about once a month. The level of talent we have been able to attract is astounding and as these folks let their peers know about our little place, I see the pool we can draw from is only getting broader and deeper. You add this to the growing list of artists that Pampafest is bringing to town and the long-time activity of the Fine Arts Community Concert Series and live music in Pampa has a bright future. High Plains Public Radio is major contributor to live music on the High Plains and all of our visiting performers this year are part of their HPPR Ambassador Tour. You may hear many of them at other venues around the area.

Thank you all for your continued support.

Michael Sinks

Forrest McCurren

Goldpine

Ruth Ellen Lynch and Jazz Plus

Beppe Gsmbetta

Jumping in on Backyard Chicken Craze! the

by Robert Forester

The surge in egg prices in recent months has everyone "crying fowl!" This price surge has many (myself included), considering joining the craze of raising chickens in their own backyards for egg production! Chickens appear to be relatively easy to raise and I can imagine, to a degree, make great pets.

I consider myself a pretty big egg eater. Hands down, breakfast is my favorite meal of the day. But, like most who work an 8 to 5 during the week, I run out the door with coffee and some quick little something to hold me over until lunch. So when the weekend comes around, I love cooking a big breakfast. Anyone who knows me well, knows that my favorite breakfast is an omelet! Omelets are quick and easy to make. And, when filled with veggies, meat and cheese... ahh, they make the perfect meal.

Eggs are very nutritious, too. According to the American Egg Board's website, they are the "perfect food." You can get all the information about eggs that you could possibly ever want, including nutrition information, recipes and more by visiting their website www.incredibleegg.org. Incidentally, you might be interested to know that the American Egg Board cites several reasons for the current higher cost of eggs. They state that inflation is having a huge impact on the cost of eggs. The higher cost (and shortage) of labor, fuel and chicken feed gets the primary blame. This is true for many food products.

Now I have to admit... when I started thinking about getting a few chickens to raise in our back yard, my thoughts were centered around how much money we would be able to save on eggs. After a bit of research, I quickly discovered that, for a newbie like myself, starting from "scratch" in the chicken raising game, this was not going to be an economically sound endeavor. Apart from the small expense of buying eight to ten chickens, I would need to purchase brooding supplies like a heat lamp, waterer, poultry feeder, pine shavings and some starter/ grower feed. This, along with one of the extra large sized storage tubs that we already have in the garage, would be all that I would need to get things started. (After all... Christmas decorations can be stored in a cardboard box just as easy! I'm sure Kerri won't mind.) I'm looking at about $100.00 out of pocket to get started as a backyard farmer and I'm thinking that amount sounds reasonable enough. This would be all I need

until my chicks got a little bigger!

Now, I know what you are thinking... "this guy knows absolutely nothing about having chickens. In fact, it sounds like he's not really the type of guy who's been around livestock very much at all." You are correct! The 1960's television series, Green Acres comes to mind. It starred Eddie Albert and Eva Gabor, who played two New York socialites who moved to the country to escape the big city and live as peaceful farmers in the wacky community of Hooterville. We wouldn't be quite as "green" as the Douglases, but there are some similarities. I always thought Eva Gabor was such a pretty lady! A funny side note, Kerri and I saw her sister, Zsa Zsa Gabor walking down the street in New York's Times Square while there on vacation in the late 90's. She was accompanied by a care-giver and, although frail, she was still beautiful and carried herself like the star that she was. Kerri recognized her immediately.

Needless to say, I am far from an expert! My only practical experience with chickens comes to me through Kerri's brother. Kevin has had chickens for 4-5 years. On several occasions I have volunteered to run down the street to their house to feed and change the water for his chickens. It hasn't really been difficult, and it doesn't look hard to keep up with everything else, cleaning etc. Without

a doubt, Kevin would be a great information resource, and the Internet would fill in the gaps. Collecting those precious "farm fresh" eggs would surely make learning everything there is to know, worth all the effort.

I understand that it takes hens about 6 months to start laying eggs and then, they lay about one egg per day. Also, that production slows down quite a bit in the winter months.

My next step was to make a quick run to Tractor Supply, "just to see" what they had in the way of chicks. Their website was promoting "Chick Days" to "add some peeps to your family." Their slogan makes the idea of having chickens sound so wholesome. I couldn't wait to get chicks of my own! I could just taste those yummy eggs. Unfortunately, like the shortage of eggs, I discovered that there was a shortage of chicks! Tractor Supply was sold out. The worker I visited with stated that they sell out almost as soon as they arrive. Thankfully, I was told that more were on the way! There are several hatcheries that can be found online, and they too, appear to be out of many of the breeds, stating that supplies of chicks are very limited. This high demand has would-be farmers scrambling (sorry) for chicks!

I can't overlook the fact that, although the initial cost of chicks and brooding supplies is minimal, there are other cost involved. In no time, a little brood would be growing up and needing a bigger, permanent home. I have spent a lot of time researching and snooping around online. This secondary expense can vary quite a bit. While at Tractor Supply, I made note of several chicken coop kits. Starting at $399.00, they have everything needed to build a coop, including the precut pieces, fasteners and hardware ready to go! And it would only take a few hours to assemble, at least that is what the box says. The $399.00 model is for a relatively

small chicken coop, suitable for only 4 or so chickens. But, I would want a few more than that, so a house that size would never work! Just think, my feathered ladies would be all "cooped up" in one of those tiny prisons! Any chicken of mine would need more space. No foie gras vibes here! I want free-range eggs! Everything I read says "free-range" eggs taste better. (This must be why they cost a little more at the store.) So, I will just need to spend a little more for the larger coop kit, with more space and they might need one of those runs or cages that has the wired top to keep them from "flying the coop!" The larger kits typically cost about $800.00 and a chicken run, another $600.00. Tractor supply has the perfect backyard setup on their website for $1,499.00.

Another option... I could build my own coop. There are some great looking plans that can be purchased online. I know I would end up with a more durable, longer lasting coop. But, I have no idea what the materials would cost to build something like this from "scratch!" This would take more than just a few hours to build, in fact, I would probably need to use some vacation time to have it completed before the chicks graduate from the plastic tub.

This is where I realized that the idea of having chickens for eggs as a cost-saving proposition was totally out the door! Even with egg prices as they are, there is still the ongoing expense of feed and supplements to calculate into my cost analysis.

We have bought eggs since, but about two months ago I remember Kerri and I being shocked as we paid around $17.00 for a 2-pack of 18 eggs, nearly $5.75 a dozen. Ouch!

After conducting my non-scientific cost analysis, calculating the price of chicks and initial set-up costs, along with the coop that I would want and the feed needed for the duration. I estimate my ROI (return on investment) to be about 6 years at $5.75 a dozen!

But, if that news wasn't bad enough... I just checked and the price of eggs has come down to about $3.00 a dozen!

Ugh, now I'll never be able to justify having my own chickens!

Canadian Dalhart Dumas Gruver Memphis Pampa Perryton Shamrock Spearman

Home-Grown Tomatoes

Neighbor, how long has it been since you had a vine ripe, fresh-picked, home-grown tomato? Well... that’s too long!

The title of this article was inspired by the hit song “Home Grown Tomatoes”, written in 1983 by the prolific and successful Texas songwriter and singer, Guy Clark (19412016).

Guy recorded this song on his album, Better Days, released that same year. John Denver must have liked this clever song because he covered it some years later on his album, Higher Ground.

The song begins with the following lyrics:

“Ain’t nothin’ in the world that I like better...

than bacon and lettuce and...

Home-Grown Tomatoes!

Up in the mornin’… out in the garden. Get you a ripe one... don’t get a hard one!

Plant ‘em in the spring. Eat ‘em in the summer. All winter without ‘em’s… a culinary bummer!”

—Guy Clark

Fresh-picked fruit and vegetable lovers are mostly dependent on their grocery stores to provide the freshest produce with the best flavor and nutrition, year-round. What a challenge! So, on behalf of all who love fresh produce, "Thank You, fresh market managers!" Surely we can imagine the logistical challenges you must face in maximizing the freshness of your products. We all understand growing season limitations and can imagine the storage, ripening, and delivery issues involved with those perishable food items that we depend upon at our grocer produce markets.

Many fruit and vegetable lovers make their own gardens during the local growing season to satisfy their fresh produce cravings. But, for those of us who are not able, or choose not to have home gardens, a local Pampa family stands ready! Again this year, this family will be prepared to satisfy our appetites for “home grown slicing-tomatoes, cherry-tomatoes, lettuce, and cucumbers.” May I introduce Tony Froggé, his son Ryan, and Tony’s wife, Cindy, the proprietors at “Bear Creek Farms, LLC” - Located at 600 S. Ballard… right here in Pampa, Texas.

Tony explains, “Since 2017, we have been producing “hydroponically” grown tomatoes, lettuce, and cucumbers. Our produce season spans from late June to late fall and our produce is available for sale, to the public, during our business hours… 8:00 am to 12:00 noon, Monday through Saturday, at 600 S. Ballard. You can also find us at the Pampa Farmer’s Market on most Saturday mornings during our growing season. (Come early for best selection and availability.) The market is staged on the front parking lot of Tractor Supply on Perryton Pkwy. North Hwy 70.”

When asked, “What makes your produce special?" Tony replied, “It is all grown HYDROPONICALLY. Yes…right here at 600 S. Ballard.” (near downtown Pampa just 1 block south of Hwy 60 east). Tony continued, “I will explain the what and

Left: Tony and Ryan pose with "Rue," Ryan's dog. Top Right: Part of last years crop. Photo was used to advertise on the Bear Creek Farms Facebook page. Right: Ryan explaining how the Culligan water filtration system works. Below: One of the green houses ready and waiting for the warmer weather needed to plant this years crop.

why of hydroponic farming but first, this is how it all began for us. My wife, Cindy and I tried to grow tomatoes in our backyard with limited success. We talked to our oldest son, Ryan about our failures and he suggested using hydroponics as a growing method. Ryan moved back to Pampa and we built our first “hoop-greenhouse” with plans to sell tomatoes and lettuce to the public in 2017. Customer demand soon exceeded production capability and we have since expanded our operation to three greenhouses.”

So what is hydroponics? Hydroponics is a plant growing method that “eliminates typical soil” and instead, uses an alternate growing “medium” for plant root support. Without soil, plants roots need something to hold onto. At Bear Creek Farms, one of the mediums we use is “Perlite”, a volcanic mineral that has been baked in a kiln and popped like popcorn…slicer tomatoes are planted in this medium. Another medium we use is “LECA” (Light Expanded Clay Aggregate) clay pebbles kiln-fired to form expanded clay pebbles. Cherry-tomatoes do well in this medium. Hydroponic farms grow crops directly in a nutrient- enriched, previously de-mineralized water, that is pumped several times/day to the tomato pots and any excess water is returned to a reservoir for reuse. Reservoirs are filled and tested daily for nutrient concentration and “pH”-values (pH explained below) at Bear Creek Farms to assure produce quality, productivity and efficiency control. One remarkable efficiency of hydroponics as Tony claims, “this method of farming requires only about 1/2 gallon of water each day, per plant! This would compare to 5-7 gallons per day required in a conventional vegetable garden.” Hydroponic farming at Bear Creek Farms uses Cityof-Pampa water circulated through a Culligan “Reverse-Osmosis” filter to remove undesirable dissolved solids that are a detriment to optimum plant growth.

Let’s recall the term “pH”… a pH-test shows whether a substance is acidic or alkaline. The “pH-scale” ranges from “014”, with “0” being the most acidic and “14” being the most alkaline and “7” is the pH neutral point. Experienced gardeners know the importance of pH to plants…some plants prefer acidic conditions while others require an alkaline environment. The optimum pH-levels should be determined and diligently controlled to support nutrient availability for each plant species. For example, pH ranges of 5.5-6.0 are normal for hydroponic tomato farms nutrient water. (Nutrients include sufficient concentrations of nitrogen, potassium, phosphorus, calcium, magnesium, sulfur, and various other trace elements in small quantities.)

Greenhouse sunlight conditions improve plant production and can be controlled using “shade-cloth” in order to control/manage temperatures to a optimum range of 85-90F. Tony emphasizes that, “growing our plants hydroponically, inside a greenhouse, in an environmentally controlled climate allows us to keep the plants weed-free…resulting in never having to use herbicides, pesticides, or fungicides. Our customers get a much cleaner, healthier, more natural food to consume.

Vegetables/fruits planned for the 2023 growing season include:

“Estiva” - slicing-tomatoes, a previous top performer that is grown in perlite medium.

“Super Sweet” - cherry-tomato, a previous performer and “Sakura”- cherry tomato, a great performer both use the clay pebble medium.

Green-leafy and Romaine lettuce - grown using the “Kratky” method which just suspends the plant above noncirculating, nutrient rich water…no root support.

806-665-5729

800-456-1698

Borger: 806-274-6020

Dumas: 806-935-3980

www.pampaculligan.com

314 S. Starkweather Pampa, Texas 79065

Tim & Sue Fatheree Owners

Cucumbers - will use expanded clay pebble root support Note: Some future “trials” are planned for green beans to determine productivity and any future interest.

Tony explains, “ Ryan and I will seed the tomato plants in lateFebruary and move them into the greenhouse in lateMarch… these plants will continue to grow all season until we experience the first freeze. Some of the tomato plants will grow to be 15-18 feet in length by seasons end.” He continues to describe how the plants growth is managed “by using the “lean-and-lower” method, plants climb on a string supported by clips allowing the plants to grow layer-upon-layer of tomatoes.” He adds, “by using this method we can continually harvest tomatoes from early summer to late fall. Routine pruning is required to assure top quality finished fruit for “slicers” and many customers buy the pruned green tomatoes for making relishes (or chow-chow) and fried- green-tomatoes. Cucumbers are grown using the same method, however, we allow those plants to grow up trellis netting for their support.”

Tony and Ryan Froggé’s invitation stands, “Anyone who is interested in Bear Creek Farms operations… come by and meet us during normal business hours for a tour and get any questions you might have answered and visit our produce marketing room.”

This writer, John Carlson, first enjoyed Bear Creek Farms fine produce a couple of years ago and can hardly wait for them to open again this year! The Froggé’s are friendly folks with an entrepreneurial spirit and impressively clean and tidy operation… an asset to our community!

In closing, I want to share some closing lines of Guy Clark’s classic song, “Home Grown Tomatoes”… continued

I’ve been out to eat…and that’s for sure

But it’s nothin’ a “Home Grown Tomato” won’t cure.

Put ‘em in a salad…put ‘em in a stew

You can make your very own tomato juice.

Eat ‘em with eggs…eat ‘em with gravy

Eat ‘em with beans…pinto or navy.

Put ‘em on the side…put ‘em in the middle

Put a “Home Grown Tomato” on a hotcake griddle

If I’s to change… this life that I lead

I’d be Johnny Tomato Seed…

‘Cause I know what this country needs…

“HOME GROWN TOMATOES”!

—Guy Clark (1941-2016)

On a somewhat personal note…Cindy Froggé is the daughter of longtime Pampa residents, Helen and Tommy Burns. This writer asked what inspired the name…”Bear Creek Farms”? Ryan explained that “the family lost his beloved sister, Jennifer in 2010 and her beloved dog, “Bear” died in 2015…So, the name “Bear Creek Farms, LLC” was chosen, honoring both family members memory.” (Why did the word “bittersweet” just come to my mind.)

When you visit “Bear Creek Farms” you will most likely meet the farm dog that works along with the master “gardeners”. Now, you shouldn’t be surprised when I tell you her name is “RUE”, which translates from Old French to English as… “the PLANT”! By now, have you guessed that the surname, Froggé is French in origin?…if so…you are correct according to Tony as his family origins are traceable to Acadians (French that immigrated and settled in Canada and some relocated to Louisiana…we respectfully call them “Cajuns”.) I wanted to see what Google had to say about origins of the name Froggé… and I need to report that Google mistakenly says “the name originates in Edinburgh, Scotland and is likely of Dutch descent.”…just confirming you can’t trust everything you read on the internet to be factual!

SO…..“PLEASE PASS THE FRIED-GREEN-TOMATOES!”

-John Carlson

Freedom Museum Fondly Remembers Ronald S. Gooding

by Della Moyer

Born in Pampa, Texas in 1934, Ronald S. Gooding was a Class of 1948 Pampa “Reaper” and a Class of 1952 Tucson (AZ) “Badger.” At the completion of his freshman year, Gooding moved with his parents to Tucson, Arizona; however, he never relinquished his Pampa roots. He returned to Pampa every summer through his high school years to rehab Cabot’s carbon black buildings. “The pay was so good that each of us drove new Ford Victorias.”

In order to understand Gooding’s attraction to Pampa, one needs to take a trip through Pampa’s history. His grandfather was Charles Christopher Cook, Pampa's first lawyer. Charles Cook’s children included Gooding’s mother, Mary Ellen (Mary Ellen Street), and his Aunt Christine and Uncle Charles (also street names). Cook Street was named for his grandfather who gave Pampa the "Park" on North Cuyler and the Fort Worth & Denver railroad spur from Childless to Pampa.

Gooding’s grandfather, Charles Cook, was of more rural roots. His family was from down around Lefors. Grandfather, Charles Cook; however, was exceptionally well educated: New Mexico Military Institute in Roswell, Baylor University in Waco and the University of Colorado Law School.

After Charles and his wife (a debutante from Dallas) were married, oil was discovered in the Pampa area, and further west, where Borger is today. Borger was built later, centered more over the oilfield - Pampa boomed first, but when a Tulsa real estate developer named Borger, bought the surface rights over the oilfield, and platted out the new town of "Borger," Pampa's decline began as Borger's growth increased.

Charles Cook, as a newly minted lawyer, recognized the opportunity that Pampa offered - No lawyer + oil boomtown!

But, Grandmother Cook wasn't impressed. So, to seal the deal, Charles Cook had to build a nice house in a nice part of town and since a nice part of town really didn't exist yet, he had to build that, too. Thus, the park along the creek just north of downtown Pampa was built to "separate" the new nice part of town, called the "Cook Addition", from the muddy, cruddy remaining part of booming Pampa.

Gooding’s mother, Mary Ellen Cook, being the oldest, got the Cuyler Street extension into the Cook Addition named after her. Little sister, Christine and even younger brother, Charles had to be satisfied with the side streets.

The “nice” home sits on the NW corner of where Cook Street changes to Virginia Street and crosses Christine Street (1003 Christine).

The other requirement was Grandmother Cook being able to easily shop at

Nieman Marcus in Dallas! This "was managed" by Charles Cook convincing the Federal Railroad Commission in Washington that for "economic reasons" Pampa needed a railroad spur off the Ft Worth & Denver RR, from Childress to Pampa. And it was built!

All of these efforts made Gooding’s Grandmother happy; however, when Charles died in 1932 of a strep infection, she packed up and moved to Manhattan.

After graduating from Tucson High School, Gooding briefly attended the University of Arizona. After finishing his first semester, he was recommended for a non-competitive appointment to West Point and graduated in 1957 as an Engineer Officer, 82nd Airborne Division. He then graduated from Duke University School of Medicine in 1964 and was thereafter assigned as Group Surgeon, 7th Special Forces, Airborne. His next station would be Vietnam.

The Special Forces had been in Laos, and then Vietnam, since the defeat of the French by the North Vietnamese at Die Bien Phu in 1953.

In the mid-60's, when the US decided to totally enter the war, the first American combat units sent in were from Okinawa. The 1st Marine Division was charged with defending the border between North and South Vietnam. And, the 187th Airborne Brigade was charged with defending Saigon.

By April 1966, Gooding was a Brigade Surgeon assigned to the 1st Brigade of the 101st Airborne Division, out of Fort Campbell, Kentucky. His unit was the 3rd combat unit deployed and quickly sent over to Vietnam to - 1) secure locations for the many other combat units beginning to be sent over, and - 2) attack any North Vietnamese combat units they could find in South Vietnam. These two mission objectives would find Gooding and his Brigade constantly on the move from Special Forces Camp to Special Forces Camp. They flew into and out of tiny dirt airstrips as they completed missions to "Seek & Destroy" the enemy.

The 1st Brigade proper, from Ft. Campbell, Kentucky, was transported by ship to Vietnam, unloading at Cam Rahn Bay. Since Gooding was leaving the 7th Special Forces, at Ft Bragg, NC (in order to get to Vietnam sooner and start his neurosurgery training) to "join" the Brigade, he flew over. He met the Brigade on the Cambodian border at a small Special Forces camp, Camp A-235 Nhon Co, as they undertook their first combat effort.

Gooding was personally in charge of a tiny "Medical Support" effort, which basically amounted to no more than a couple of tents. His “mini MASH hospital” next to the airstrip was where casualties from the field were brought in

by both medivac & combat helicopters and "stabilized.” The casualties were then further evacuated to hospitals at other locations in Vietnam, by helicopter or small airplanes.

That very first night, at Nhon Co, the North Vietnamese attacked, overrunning his small medical unit (less than 100 strong), “destroying all my medevac helicopters with thermite grenades!” The North Vietnamese actually thought they were attacking the adjacent engineer unit, which had more and bigger helicopters, but became confused in the night, rain, and dense, dark jungle. Nine of Gooding’s men were killed and several more wounded. In recognition of the small medical unit’s efforts to secure their hospital, each were awarded the coveted Combat Medical Badge. “…

To be awarded the Combat Medical Badge, the infantry unit to which the medical personnel were assigned or attached must have engaged the enemy in active ground combat. Medical personnel must have been personally present and under fire in order to be eligible for this award. During the Vietnam War, the requirements were so stringent that recommending officials were required to document the place (in six digit coordinates), the time, the type of engagement, and also the intensity of fire to which the medical personnel were exposed...” Synopsis of Army Regulation 600-8-22 (Military Awards - CMB) Gooding says, “Anyway, so went my first day on the job in Vietnam”. That “job” went on for another 8 years.

Gooding did not spend all of his time in the “hospital”. Even though most people picture Special Forces soldiers as commandos kicking down doors and taking down bad guys, they did so much more. While such direct action missions were part of their job, so too were humanitarian operations. In many ways, Special Forces are sol-

dier/ambassadors, and gaining the trust of locals is a crucial aspect of unconventional warfare. The Montagnard “mountain people” of Vietnam are an indigenous people who “hated” all Vietnamese. Many times they were recruited by Special Forces to fight against the North Vietnamese, oft times a delicate balancing act.

Members of Special Forces medical units were among the best-trained and most respected medical personnel in the military. They were trained to treat battlefield injuries, but were also equally

Gooding giving soap to village children.

capable of walking into a village and establishing a medical clinic. They could perform physical exams, diagnose the textbook of diseases found in the Third World, and prescribe medicine for treatment. They would vaccinate villagers, perform minor surgery, deliver babies, treat infants and children, bandage wounds, and set broken bones. They were also trained in parasitology to identify nasty bacteria found in water wells. In some cases, they would even perform dentistry. Gooding and his unit did everything possible toward establishing a common bond with the Montagnard people.

In June of 1967, Gooding departed Vietnam. He was then reassigned to Walter Reed Army Medical Center for continued neurosurgery training, on to St Louis University Hospital and Washington University Hospital. Gooding was Chief of Neurosurgery at Landstuhl (Germany) Army Medical Center followed by Chief of Neurosurgery for Wm. Beaumont Army Medical Center in El Paso, Texas. Upon departure from service, Gooding entered private practice, specializing in neurosurgery in Yuma, AZ and Omaha, NE. He retired in 2004.

After retirement, Gooding moved to Lincoln, NE. He maintained residences in Lincoln, NE, Yuma and Scottsdale, AZ. All these homes required personal visits throughout the year. So, Gooding would stop in Pampa and visit his family in Fairview Cemetery, make sure all his arrangements were in order, and spend the remainder of his time in Pampa at Freedom Museum... donating items from his military career and sharing his stories. His generous donations to the museum, throughout many years, have been a great enhancement to the West Point and Vietnam exhibits. Above all, his friendship was invaluable to many members of the Freedom Museum staff and Board. In recognition of his service during the Vietnam War, Dr. Gooding was inducted into the Panhandle Veterans Hall of Honor in 2015.

On December 3, 2022, Ronald S. Gooding, M.D., Col. U.S. Army (Ret.) passed from this life into the next in the same manner in which he lived. While watching a football game with several friends, with a big smile on his face, he stood to cheer his team’s efforts to secure a touchdown and had a massive heart attack.

Freedom Museum takes great pleasure in fondly remembering the life of Ron Gooding. Please visit the museum to see the many artifacts from his collections, as well as donations from many other veterans and families. Freedom Museum is located at 600 N Hobart and is open Tuesday through Saturday, from Noon to 4:00pm.

Gooding and fellow West Point Classmates

Above: Andy Epps, Ron Gooding and Della Moyer in the Vietnam Exhibit, Gooding, holds his plaque from Panhandle Veteran's Hall of Honor.

Lower Right: Gooding with Quilt of Valor, presented by Debbie Black Gooding.