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There
were
many
arguments
and
discussions,
mostly
for
political
purposes,
as
to
whether
Oklahoma
should
be
an
Indian
state,
two
states,
or
one
state
which
combined
both
territories.
Finally,
in
1907,
Oklahoma
became
the
forty-sixth
state.
We
were
still
living
at
302
North
Frisco
and
I
was
seven
years
old.
I
am
sorry
to
say
that
I
remember
very
little
of
this
event
but,
at
seven,
I
probably
had
the
more
important
things
that
little
girls
think
about
on
my
mind.
The
plugging
of
the
gas
well
on
our
property
left
Dad
somewhat
discouraged
and,
after
selling
some
of
the
lots
on
North
Frisco,
he
traded
the
remaining
lots
for
a
one-hundred
sixty
acre
farm
about
six
miles
from
Bristow.
This
was
in
the
spring
of
1908.
Dad
went
ahead,
moving
furniture
and
planting
a
large
field
of
cotton.
The
family
then
moved,
my
father
to
the
farm
and
Mother,
my
sister
and
I
to
a
room
in
Bristow
so
that
we
could
finish
the
school
term
in
Bristow.
When
the
term
was
over,
we
also
went
to
the
farm.
In
those
days,
the
Fourth
of
July
was
a
big
event.
We
used
to
pack
our
lunches
and
travel
the
six
miles
into
Bristow
for
the
celebration
along
with
the
other
families.
Later
that
month
my
brother
Harry,
then
twenty-three
years
old,
came
home
to
the
farm.
He
had
been
working
in
Kiefer
building
wooden
oil
derricks
and
had
fallen,
injuring
his
heart,
and
had
come
home
to
recuperate.
My
dad
had
bought
six
head
of
cattle
and
of
course
we
had
Old
Bill
and
Shorty,
a
bay
horse
that
was
a
pacer.
Harry
would
use
Shorty
when
he
was
driving
the
buggy.
One
day,
when
Mother,
Princess,
and
I
were
in
the
house
and
Harry
and
Dad
were
in
the
barn,
we
had
one
of
those
heavy
rain
and
hail
storms
that
come
up
so
quickly.
The
men
had
to
stay
in
the
barn
and
we
had
to
stay
in
the
house
until
the
storm
was
over.
After
the
storm
had
passed,
they
discovered
that
the
cattle
had
all
been
standing
near
the
fence
and
that
lightning
had
killed
all
six
of
them.
The
Negroes
lived
in
a
small
house
on
our
farm
not
far
from
the
main
house
during
the
cotton
planting
and
picking
seasons.
They
were
to
come
the
next
day
to
pick
the
cotton,
but
the
hail
had
beaten
it
into
the
ground
and
it
was
a
total
loss.
Shortly
after
this
Harry
came
down
with
typhoid
fever.
I
woke
up
one
night
and
noticed
that
there
was
no
one
upstairs.
I
went
down
stairs
to
find
my
father
working
with
my
brother
in
the
kitchen.
I
could
hear
Harry
saying,
"
I
don't
want
to
die".
To
this
day
I
can
hear
him
saying
that
in
my
mind.
He
was
only
bedfast
for
a
few
days
before
dying,
less
than
a
month
after
his
twenty-third
birthday.
Harry
was
taken
to
Tulsa
for
burial.
He
had
been
in
the
Elks
Lodge
and
they
had
asked
to
take
part
in
the
funeral.
Dad
did
not
know
that
the
Elks
were
going
to
place
Harry
in
their
own
lot
at
Oaklawn
and,
when
he
found
out,
he
wouldn't
do
anything
to
upset
their
plans.
Later,
however,
he
had
Harry
and
other
family
members
that
had
been
buried
at
the
old
cemetery
at
Frisco
and
Second,
moved
to
the
family
plot
in
Oaklawn.
Harry
had
been
engaged
to
one
of
the
daughters
of
the
Stevenson
family
who
owned
the
ice
plant.
She
came
to
our
house
many
times
after
Harry's
death--
Mother
always
laid
a
place
for
her
at
the
table
just
in
case.
She
came
to
see
us
even
after
she
later
married.
Then
to
make
matters
worse,
when
we
went
back
to
the
farm,
I
came
down
with
typhoid
fever
and
was
sick
for
six
weeks.
I
was
delirious
for
two
of
the
six
weeks.
I
can
remember
waking
up
in
the
night
and
seeing
Dad
sitting
there
by
my
bed
reading.
There
was
a
kerosene
lamp
on
the
desk
part
of
the
secretary
and
the
other
side
had
a
rounded
glass
front
covering
the
book
shelves.
I
lay
there
for
what
seemed
like
a
very
long
time
and
finally
asked
him
why
he
was
there
and
why
I
was
in
the
downstairs
bed.
He
was
so
pleased
when
I
talked.
The
fever
had
broken
and
he
could
tell
that
I
was
myself
once
more.
In
comparing
my
illness
to
Harry's,
he
must
have
been
in
a
much
weaker
condition
due
to
his
injury
just
before
he
developed
the
fever,
whereas
I
was
young
and
could
throw
it
off
better.
Dad
traded
the
160
acre
farm
near
Bristow
to
George
Bullette
for
property
at
602
North
Detroit
and
at
213
East
Fairview.
Dad
paid
fifteen
hundred
dollars
for
another
farm
near
Stroud
and
later
he
traded
it
for
a
house
in
the
200
block
on
South
Lansing.
Mother,
my
sister
Princess,
and
I
moved
into
this
house
and
Princess
and
I
started
to
school
in
the
latter
part
of
September.
As
it
turned
out,
the
wrong
Negro
had
signed
the
deed
for
the
Stroud
farm
and
Dad
was
out
the
fifteen
hundred
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