RUBY LEONA GREEN HERRON

I will begin my story with my grandfather Green, who had owned a plantation in West Virginia until the colored people were freed from slavery. He left West Virginia and came to Clarke County, Iowa, bringing with him two elderly slaves. Because of their age, they had no money value and Grandfather knew that, if left, they could not have survived. He bought several hundred acres of land in the Jamison area.  There was a house in which the slaves lived until they slipped away one night because they no longer felt safe living among all white people.  He never heard from them again and often wondered if they had survived.           ·

Grandfather met and married Mary Reed from New Virginia, Iowa.  They settled near Jamison and that was where they raised their children, one of whom was my father, Edward James Green.  There were: five brothers and two sisters.

On my mother's side of the family, my grandfather and grandmother Wallace came to Iowa with their children in a covered wagon and settled near Jamison in the area of New Virginia. My mother’s older sister had a boyfriend, whom my grandfather didn't much care for. He wouldn't allow him to ride in the wagon so he rode horseback, followed the covered wagon and located in Clarke County, also, between New Virginia and Jamison.  He later married my mother's older sister.           .            ·

Many years later this couple lived in the Murray neighborhood.  A crime had been committed in Osceola, and the Clarke County sheriff and his deputy went looking for the carload of men who had committed the crime. They found them in the Murray area and, as they attempted to make the arrest, the men started shooting.  They wounded the deputy and shot and killed my uncle Charlie who was just standing in his orchard, looking at what was happening. This was Charlie Jones, the son of my mother's older sister, Kathryn.  Several years ago, Margaret Alley was quite excited to learn of this; for Charlie was Margaret's great uncle, and the mother of Charlie Jones was Margaret's great grandmother.  The family hadn’t known this story.

There were several children in my mother's family.  She had been born in a log cabin, which my grandfather built. A tornado came through and destroyed it so my grandfather built a new house which was very small for the large family.

My father and mother had four children. Two died of diphtheria at the ages of seven and four, when I was only three weeks old. I was born in Clarke County, near Jamison.  This was a thriving community with lots of stores - grocery and dry goods stores, a post office, blacksmith and barber shop. There was a Methodist Church and cemetery. My grandfather Green donated land from his farm for the cemetery and gave the money to build the first church. My mother, along with her parents and other children, came from a Quaker family in Pennsylvania. There being no other church where they relocated, they joined the Methodist Church.

My parents waited until I was almost seven for me to start school so that my brother, Floyd, and I could walk to school together.  He was only four.  The rural schools in those days were two miles apart.  We went to Jamison School which was 2 miles from where we lived. It was not our district but other schools would have been much farther.  Squaw Creek ran between the schoolhouse and our home.

During my 8th grade year in country school, the teacher, Mrs. Dorff had a daughter who, along with six other girls, was also in 8th grade.  Our teacher helped us prepare to take the 8th grade examination, which the state required that students pass before entering high school.  The teacher's daughter, Louise Zaruba, who is still living, and I were very religious minded. From the time we were children, our parents had taught us to pray.   While all the girls tried hard to study and learn what the teacher thought would be asked in the test, every noon Louise and I, unbeknown to anyone else, would slip down beside the outside toilet.  There was a big roll of wire there. We would get down behind it, where no one would see us, and pray that we would pass. We did, with high marks, but not all of the girls did pass.  As I am telling this, I know that both of us will always believe that prayer, along with our efforts and our good teacher helped us.

I attended and graduated from Osceola High School.  During those years, my mother would say in a kind and loving way, as she always did, that she wanted her children to become teachers.  I didn't think I wanted to be a teacher because I would always have to live in the country.  I knew little about the city but I thought that would be more exciting.  At any time when the subject came up, Mother would say, "I want you and Floyd, also, to be teachers."

My mother had observed me teaching the children in Sunday school and she knew I loved the children and they loved me, so she knew what I didn't know- that I was really a born teacher.  Well, I listened to my mother, took normal training and became a teacher as did my brother.  Our parents saw to it that we children had a good education.  They were proud of their heritage and wanted us to be as well.  As had her parents before her, my mother remarked that the children had never caused problems.

The first school I taught was the Edgington School near Jamison.  When Squaw Creek wasn't too high, I would get from my home to this school by walking through the timber, across the creek, across the railroad tracks and over a couple offences.   If Squaw Creek was out of its banks, which it often was in the spring, I stayed with the Edgington family until the creek went down.

One morning as I was opening the door to go into my schoolhouse, a tramp was opening the door to leave.  He had spent the night and had made a cup of coffee in one of the children's tin cups.  I clearly remember him standing there, wearing a long, black overcoat.  I had no fear of this man. He was a tramp, like many others who went through the countryside.  They never harmed anybody. Whenever they stopped at the house, mother always fed them. In this case, I am sure we were both very surprised.

The fact is, I was rather grateful to him. He had the school house nice and warm.  Other than that time, I had to build the fire myself. As long as I taught, I did my own janitor work. Not "custodial", which sounds too genteel?  This was janitorial cleaning and doing everything regarding the upkeep.

Another aspect of my life was that I had met a very fine young man, David (Bud) Herron, Jr.  and we started dating.   I kept thinking that he was such a nice person and yet I didn't want to become too interested because he was a farmer and I didn't want to marry a farmer.  But he was so dependable, so good, with such a good reputation and liked by everyone that I fell in love with him. We were married in 1927.  He had already bought a farm, and so we began farming and housekeeping on this farm northeast of Osceola. ·

Both his father's and mother's health had failed.  They were no longer able to continue the farming operation on their own, so we all lived together for two years until Mrs. Herron died. We left that farm and bought one of 480 acres, three miles east of Weldon.  Along with being a farmer's wife, I continued to teach in the country school.  My schools were always in Clarke County and never very far from our home.

There was nothing about my life that would be called "easy."  We always had hired help who lived in our home.  I raised a huge garden and 1,000 chickens every year.  I mowed the lawn without the benefit of even a self-propelled mower.  I arranged meals for the hired man and my husband. I would get up in the morning and bake a pie before going to school - I could bake a pie so quickly!  What made it pleasurable was the support and love of many fine friends.

One day my husband asked if I'd ever thought of not teaching. I hadn't, but I asked if that would suit him. He reminded me of some freedoms we would have if I quit. From then on, between the harvesting of one crop and another, we traveled. We spent several winters in Florida. We visited Washington D. C.; particularly the cemetery and the gravesite of my husband's uncle. He had been in U.S. Government Survey. All his family were well educated, wealthy people.

I don't believe that anyone could have been happier as a teacher and farmer's wife than I was, even though that was not what I thought I wanted in life. I give my mother credit for guiding me in the way that she knew I would be happiest and most successful. She had many wonderful attributes. For one thing, she never gossiped. She never criticized other people's children, saying that she didn't know what her own might do.

One evening my husband and I were called to a neighbor's home to help get a very ill person ready to go to the hospital in Osceola. On our way home, when we arrived at the Decatur county line, where our home was located, we saw so many cars going that direction. This was most unusual and we couldn't figure out what the reason might be. When we finally turned on that road, we saw a tall tree burning in our yard. Then we knew our house was afire. Neighbors and fire trucks were there, but it couldn't be saved.

There are times when we realize the importance of friends.  Weldon was the community where we lived most of our married life, and it was a wonderful community to be a part of.  I attended the Friends Church quite often and at the time our house burned, our neighbors and friends were all there, including the lady minister of the Friends Church. They supported us, for which I will always be so grateful.                                                            ,

There was nothing to be done but to tear down what was left of the house and rebuild. I realize that was very difficult for my husband. We had just remodeled the entire four bedroom home. We had been spending our winters in Mesa, Arizona, and had also built a house there. Other Osceola people also had begun going - Russell Manley had bought the house next to ours; Fern and Court Carter were wintering there  along with Edna and Billy Voris, Ethel and Roy Clark, and Walt Langfitt's parents. There were only four houses there when we built. It is quite different now.

After I had retired from teaching, my mother developed diabetes. Insulin was not available at that time. Dr. Dean told me that she was failing fast.  I took her to Dr. Harkin and he said, "Your mother's condition is so advanced that if you want her to live, you will take her home and take care of her. You would want to come to the hospital for two weeks to learn how to weigh her food and give her the care she will need."  I took Mother home. My parents still lived in the country. Then I went home and told my husband what the doctor had said. I said, "I don't know what to do." He asked, "Why don't you do what the doctor suggested?" But there was still my father. We couldn't leave him, so my husband said, "We have four bedrooms.  You and I have one, the hired man has one, your mother and father could have the two adjoining ones." So they moved in with us.

They lived with us for four years; when their time came, they died very quickly. Mother was in the hospital only two days, Dad three days. Neither ever had to live in a care center. Mother's condition improved a great deal with insulin, but she died because of damage done from high blood pressure.

My husband died very unexpectly at our farm home and, while I was devastated, he had well prepared me for things I would need to do, when or if I was ever alone. I still wasn't prepared.  At the age of 56 I didn't think of the future or of his life ending so abruptly.  I continued living on and managing the farm, although I had been offered a job as housemother at the college in Indianola. Mr. Ralph McGee was on the Board and he called to ask me if I would be interested.  I didn't think it was something I wanted to do.  Among the options, I thought of the new house we had built in Mesa, Arizona.  We had only lived in Arizona three winters when my husband died; but I thought maybe I should move there rather than staying on the farm all alone.

I remembered that my husband one time had said, "If you ever have a decision to make that you aren’t sure of, go to your lawyer or your banker and let them advise you."  So I talked to my lawyer, Ward Reynoldson, and told him I had a little problem.  I just wasn’t sure what I should do.  When I explained it to he got a big smile on his face and said, "That's the easiest question I've ever answered. Stay at home and manage the business you already have.  You have a terrific responsibility where you are." I thanked him and said, "That is exactly what I wanted to hear you say." I still loved the country and my life there. In another three years, I sold our house in Mesa and decided to make Iowa my home permanently.

I continued to live on the farm for 10 more years.  I handled things quite well but was also working at a job in Osceola, managing the ready-to-wear department at Robinson’s store.  With the upkeep of mowing and repairing on the farm, and never having been one to neglect anything that needed to be done, I would mow with a push mower well into the evening, sometimes after dark.

One evening as I was mowing near one of the barns, I got into a nest of bumble bees. I was badly stung, was sick as a result, and decided right then that it was time to sell the farm and do what other widows seemed to be doing.  I came to Osceola and built the house where I am still living.

My brother and his wife were the parents of one son, Dwight Green. He was a very special person to me; more like a grandchild than a nephew.  He did landscaping and was an electrician at the college in Indianola.  One of his sporting activities was hunting in Canada and Alaska.  One year he won a trophy for killing a white tailed deer that had the widest rack that ever has been recorded on the North American Continent.  An article about him was one of the features in an outdoor magazine, and also in a book entitled 20 Trophy Winners.  I have and treasure this book   He unsuccessfully battled cancer for four years and died at the age of 50.

I was many years past retirement age when I retired from my job at Robinson's. The manager had told me they weren’t looking for a replacement, so I kept working.  Since I quit, I have been asked to join four bridge clubs and am an active member of the Retired Teacher's Association (now Retired Teachers and Personnel, to make the organization more inclusive). I served as their president for four years.  I was on the Senior Citizens' Board for a number of years and served as secretary.  I am a member of the Sarah Rebekah Lodge and Past Noble Grand Club. I am also a member of the Federated Woman’s Club and the Osceola United Methodist Church.

I do a lot of volunteer work and feel most grateful to be able to do the things I most enjoy doing and, at the same time, feel that I should be doing.  I have no family - the one brother and his son were the only blood relatives I had but even though I had no children of my own, I enjoyed my pupils, and still enjoy all children.

I was honored on my 90th birthday at the United Methodist Church with more than 100 friends in attendance.  I would like to share an original poem that my niece, on my husband's side, Ruth Lauser, had written for the occasion. That was one of the happier days of my life.

 

TRIBUTE TO A GREAT LADY RUBY HERRON
By Ruth Lauser

 

She's witty, pretty, intelligent and fun
She climbs on her roof to get something done
She mows, shovels and walks once a day,
She saws wood...and her thumb, when it got in the way.

She started married life in the "good ol’ times"
With no conveniences and worked for a dime
She had oil lamps for light, and her stove was wood
But she was happy and life was good


She taught school for seventeen years
and tells cute stories we all like to hear.
After thirteen years with Robinson

she decides to retire and have some fun.

She helped prepare and serve church dinners
was also secretary of the Social Center,
Retired Teachers President and Noble Grand
Her willingness to work made her much in demand.

She entertains for twelve or more
Her chicken and noodles really score
Her jelly is good and her "dilly" bread best
I really don't know when she has time to rest!

She's hale and hearty and takes no pills
I’d certainly attest she's not "over the hill''
She joined several bridge clubs and plays like a pro

and has modeled clothes for several style shows


Her memory is good, but yet...
Uncle Bud would remember, I'll bet
When she left him in town and went home alone
and he used shanks horses for his way home.

Her life hasn't been smooth but she's weathered the rocks
and bounced right back after life's hard knocks,
Uncle Bud left her many nephews and nieces
and their love for her never ceases.

   I want to add a personal touch
When I needed to talk it was her I sought
When my world collapsed and I needed a friend
She gave me comfort from beginning to end

Let's give Ruby Herron a great big cheer
for her birthday of ninety years
You've touched all our lives with your help and wit
and now it's time we do our bit

Your family and friends by the score
Wish you “HAPPY BIRTHDAY'' and many more

 

I have also done some traveling.  Ethel Tangeman and I took a European tour sponsored by the Bates’ of Albia.  Out itinerary took in seven countries. Particularly memorable was Vatican City and the tour that went with it, including the old coliseum that is partly still standing.  I will not forget the beauty of the Alps, the Passion Play at Oberammergau, Germany, which lasted all day.  The Scandinavian countries were beautiful and their people so friendly!  In most of the countries, the people speak English.  The family we stayed with for two nights in Germany told us that every school child in 4th grade learns to speak English.  We enjoyed going to theaters and dinners.  With everything we saw we were intrigued, with the exception of Paris.  I was disappointed with the French people, who were very rude in many ways.   I loved Switzerland! The beauty of nature always impresses me.

All in all, I have had a wonderful, happy life, I have mentioned how much I like children, but I also like older people.  At 91, I am still always waiting on somebody and enjoy and appreciate that I am able to do so.

 

TO ONE IS GIVEN THROUGH THE SPIRIT THE UTTERANCE OF
WISDOM, AND TO ANOTHER THE UTTERANCE OF KNOWLEDGE
ACCORDING TO TH£ SAME SPIRIT..... I  COR. I 2:8

 

 

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