The letters left for me by my great-grandparents reveal more than I could ever imagine. |
In May of 2013, a severe storm announced itself to Oklahoma. Though it was breaking news, it wasnât uncommon. If you arenât from Oklahoma, one of the first things you think of is tornadoes. If you call Oklahoma home, you roll your eyes at this stereotype. For one, in your eyes the state has so much more to offer, and you are almost immune to the tornado sirens since you've grown up hearing them. Most often, you react like you do when someone burns something in the kitchen making the smoke alarm go off. Itâs not pleasant, but it'll pass. May 31, 2013 was the first time in my forty-four years I felt truly helpless and frightened. My son and I had lived in the town of Jones about six months, and I had never thought of what our tornado plan would be. We have no cellar or basement which surprisingly isnât that uncommon in Oklahoma. The nearest âshelterâ was the school, but since I worked there I knew it had nothing more than a library, so it seemed more of a place to be with other frantic people. Watching the continual coverage on television, I texted a friend for advice and comfort. They were going to try to outrun it if the situation turned deadly. This wasn't comforting to me. As I prayed silently and attempted to act calm and unconcerned so that my son wouldn't be worried, my dad called. My father hates the phone. He hates looking up numbers, dialing, and talking on the phone. My heart dropped. âGrab what you can, get in the car, and drive north.â His words were forceful, but not emotional. Was he doing for me what I was trying to do for my son? Projecting confidence over something you have no control. I relayed these words to my son while rerunning the sentence in my head. Grab what I can? At that moment, there didnât seem anything I couldnât live without or couldnât be replaced. While my son got his dog and the cats (though I told him not to bring the cats in the car, but thatâs another story), my mind raced. What would I be sorry that I hadnât grabbed? Like a gift, the thought so clearly came to me â the love letters from my great-grandparents. After I could breathe at a rate that was half-way normal, had been reassured that the monster had passed, and was forty miles from home, my son asked, âMom, what did you bring with us?â That moment is when I realized the story had to be told. ___________________________________________________________________________ In October of 1888, a baby was born, Roy Fred Klingman. The name âFredâ was after his father. Approximately five years later, a baby girl, Cecil Ora Burchett, would be born to Mr. and Mrs. Lewis and Martha Burchett. The exact year is unclear because on many records the birth year was estimated. It was July 13 of 1893 or 1894 that a woman was born who touched my life in a way that I will always hold close to my heart and spirit. Both families lived in Missouri at the time, but relocated to Oklahoma taking up residence in Cashion. The 1907 census recorded 265 residences. In her teens, Cecil worked as a switchboard operator putting through calls, billing, and collecting payments. Roy worked with his uncle at the local grocery store. It's no wonder these two crossed paths, and a love story for the ages came to be. Iâm not sure of the date that sparks began to fly and hearts fluttered; but I do know by the letters I cherish that by 1912 their love had blossomed and being apart for even a short period of time was torture. June 30, 1912 Anniston, New Mexico Dear, you canât imagine how awful lonesome it is away off down here where no one cares for you nor loves you, and then to think how much nicer it is to be with someone that loves you all the time.. Sometime before 1912, Roy purchased a relinquishment to a homestead in Jon, New Mexico. The requirements were he had to spend a certain amount of time there, plant a crop, and make improvements to the property. He would usually go for two to four weeks at a time. The minutes without each other ticked by slowly for both. Roy referred to his place as Mammoth Cave. I believe he did so because of the harsh conditions. The ground was dry making it difficult to plow. His âhouseâ was a dugout with no electricity or amenities. Those items he did purchase were often gone when he returned, taken by thieves or people in dire need. He shared his place with rabbits and rats that seemed particularly fond of the buttons on his shoes. Roy would go days without seeing anyone; the bright spot of his time in San Jon was walking to the post office and receiving letters from his true love. Cashion, Oklahoma July 1st, 1912 I sure do wish you could be here by Sunday that sure will be a long lonesome day for both of us for we have been together every Sunday for a long time, havenât we my Sweetheart? Though Cecil had her job at the switchboard, her family, and friends to keep her distracted, there was no easing her ache for Roy. She speaks of a love that no one can comprehend. When a friend attempts to reassure her that she understands since her beau was in Wichita for a spell, Cecil rebuffs it for she never once saw the girl cry or be out of sorts. In one letter alone, she uses the word 'lonesome' twelve times. Itâs not repetition; it's love and longing speaking through written words. Each letter is written in perfect cursive writing, as are the ones he writes her. Often, she is writing at work and will mention she needs to pause to put a call through as if he were right there talking with her. Cashion, Oklahoma January 8th, 1913 Dear Roy: Say, I wish I was down there with you. I sure am lonesome here this morning. Roy, please donât stay 2 weeks. Come back home just as soon as you can. Will you? The letters were an outpouring of love. Oh, they also consisted of the town âdramaâ; such as, Bertha breaking-up with Earl Welch and would be happy if she never laid eyes on him again! Cecilâs daily events were written about: choir practice, picnics, a trip to Guthrie. However, hardly a thought was completed without mentioning how much she missed him. It was as if she was writing exactly as her thoughts were processed. Her mother had commented that Cecil looked down-right sick. Cecil seems almost appalled that there was any doubt, for how could she not be sick with her true love so far away? Anniston, New Mexico June 17, 2013 I am honest to you in every way, and believe you the same. By this time Roy and Cecil were engaged. Though many folks speculated they would soon be married, it was a well-kept secret. They only told her mother and his siblings. This was partially to help with preparations. Roy had left his suit with his brother, Irl. Cecil would pick it up before boarding the train to meet him in Kingfisher. The family members would ride by buggy. They chose to have the small ceremony in Kingfisher which was about ten miles from Cashion, because they âdidnât want the whole town of Cashion showing upâ. They didnât want a spectacle; they desired privacy and simplicity â a mirror of the love they had. Cashion, Oklahoma June 18, 1913 Roy, when we are married I am going to be with you every minute I can, that is honest. I mean it. Cecil reveals she bought the material to make her dress and will begin sewing on it tomorrow morning. It's a brown silk. The dress must have had many layers because she writes she didnât buy the normal 2 ½ yards, but instead 6 yards! She purchased black slippers and gloves to match. The pride comes through when she tells Roy she has been able to save $100.00. No small feat in those days. Cecil wants to ensure Roy never has to take the trip to New Mexico alone again. She'll do whatever she can to be by his side the next time he enters San Jon. Mammoth Cave New Mexico 6-18-1913 8:30 p.m. My Only Dear One: I read your second letter this afternoon, and was so tickled to get your dear words that I cannot keep the tears out of my eyes. âAnd me a man.â Royâs letters have a way of transporting you to wherever he is. His description takes over your senses so that you feel the loneliness of the dug-out, the shyness felt at taking dinner with people you hardly know, and the tired feeling that encompasses him as he works to plant a crop when the ground resists him and the sun beats down. He writes of great love felt, but is also realistic. Though he would love to be with Cecil sooner, the law is the law, and he must remain until his commitments are met. He's a man that does the right thing, but isnât afraid to share his feelings of wishing it could be another way. No doubt each letter Cecil received elated her and made her miss him more. __________________________________________________________________________ Roy Klingman and Cecil Burchett were married June 25, 1913 in Kingfisher, Oklahoma. They had two wonderful childen â Pauline Ruth and Cecil Roy Klingman. They shared fifty-two years of blissful marriage. Just as life often deals, some of the times were more trying than others, but their love never ceased to flourish. Whether they were aware of it or not, they set an example of pure, unconditional love for all those around them. I never knew Roy, or Gramp as we refer to him. He passed away at the age of 77 in 1965; four years before I was born. I always felt slighted that I hadnât gotten to meet him, but I think through the letters and the hours I spent with Ma (Cecil), I knew him better than some. Ma was the oldest in our family and I the youngest. I was too little to play with the bigger kids; well, thatâs what they told me. She and I developed a special bond. You love all your family, but there is usually someone you feel a kindred spirit to. âHold your horses.â That was the meanest thing I ever heard her say, and she didnât even say it with an exclamation mark. She sewed dresses for my Raggedy Ann, we read stories, she helped me live through my first bee sting, and she told stories of Gramp. I donât remember many details about them except the look of love and longing that would overtake her eyes. She passed away December 31, 1980. It was my first time feeling true hurt; I was sure I wouldnât be able to live through the ache in my heart. I knew she was with Gramp which brought some comfort, but when you're twelve-years-old it is hard to get passed your selfish wants. And I wanted Ma back. I talked to her all the time, occasionally I still do. Truth be told, knowing she was in Heaven looking down on me made me choose the right path a few times I was tempted to stray. I couldnât disappoint her. Most little girls dream of a Prince and Princess love. I dreamed of a Gramp and Ma love. Though I may never find it, it is enough for me to know that it does truly exist. Letter from Ma to Gramp Cashion, Oklahoma Early 1900's Marriage License June 25, 1913 Postcard to Cecil from El Reno |