Letter to the editor

Paul and Nancy Brence put a post of the flooded spring creek at their place last week, and it brought back memories when I was nine years old.

The winter of ‘51-’52 was deep snow, and by March 15th it has started to thaw. Dad (Odis) decided him and I would leave early with two pack horses loaded with cotton seed cake for the MAX place, about 9 miles west where Dad had a guy staying in that camp wintering a bunch of cows. We unloaded and turned around and headed back. By the time we got to Spring Creek water was running, we would cross at the old Rose place, which was about a mile south of Paul and Nancy’s Homestead. The creek was high, but the only thing that stopped us was a large chunk of ice blocking our crossing. Dad thought he could jump his horse up on the ice and break it up so it would float on down the creek. He jumped his horse up on the ice and rode around several times, but was unable to break it. He came back and his horse took a leap off the ice. His feet went out from under him and down they went; he tried again to get up his feet again went out from under him and they both went under. Dad came crawling out as I got off my horse and helped hold his feet up to drain water out of his boots. We then decided to go north across on the county road. The deepest was about stirrup deep. We kicked our horses into a fast trot as the sun was sinking and it was getting cold.

When we got home it was nearly dark and dad was nearly froze to his saddle. We had to help him off and rushed him into the house to warm up. Us boys took care of the horses and other chores.

Now that’s been about 67 years ago and although the old memory forgets some things, I still remember that day quite clearly.

Sincerely, Corky Harkins