Peaches and the War of 1959.

Good grief, has it been two months since I wrote anything? It's a good thing I don't rely on my writing to buy food for the squirrels. They would starve. But enough about squirrels since there is no way on this green earth they will stay away from Debbie's birdseed. I need to write a story because I have about three of them jelling in my mind and its keeping me awake at night. This next story is a joint effort from my sister Julie, my brother Glenn, and myself. I knew I wanted to tell you about the peach war incident but I couldn't remember the details that led up to it. I consulted my sibs and half of them responded with their own memories. By the way, I told Debbie I would be in my study today cleaning up my desktop. S-H-H....

My dad grew up on the prairies of South Dakota. There was talk at that time of a tree growing in the state but no one really knew where. Anyway, after WWII, daddy settled down in Texas with a wife he met at Fort Hood. He told his family she was of native Indian descent even though her family has been in Texas forever. He thought it was funny. She didn't find it humorous. That's beside the point...he grew up without trees so when he had bought a little piece of Texas land for himself, some would call it "a lot", he couldn't stop planting trees. Some of the trees he planted were peach trees. He loved his peach trees and nurtured them throughout the year. The question which kept me awake last night was, "Did anyone ever see daddy actually eat a peach?" My sibs confirmed that no one ever saw him eat a peach or any other piece of fruit so why did he care so much for those trees. Glenn answered the question though. Mama loved peaches so he grew peaches for her. He showed his love for his squaw in various ways. She ate them off the tree and tried to get us to try them. They had too much fuzz for my taste so I avoided them until they had been transformed into peach cobbler. She froze peaches and served peach cobbler or pie to us way into the winter until the supply was gone. Then I guess we ate Twinkies for dessert. I just don't remember.

Glenn reminded me that the folks loved jelly or jam every morning and that must have been all the fruit daddy got into his system. For years we would drive north on Precinct Line Road and pick wild mustang grapes off the vines along the road. Mama would make the best grape jelly I ever tasted. I never could buy a jar of Welsh's grape jelly after that....just not the same thing. She also bought plums by the bushel from the farmer's market and made jelly and jam that would make your head spin. I miss that jam so much. I begged my sisters to learn how to make it before our mom passed away. They didn't.....or if they did they keep it all for themselves and don't share it with me. I wish now I had learned to make it myself but back then I was still gainfully employed and couldn't grasp the idea of time off with hobbies.

Oh great, my sister Cindy just responded with memories of her own. I either go back and edit what I've written or add her memories later.....I'll add them later unless I get tired of writing....or Debbie comes in and my desk is still a mess.

I may have wandered from the original topic a bit so I'll try to steer myself back. It's pretty much agreed that daddy didn't care for peaches unless they were in the form of a cobbler swimming in heavy cream. In fact, he didn't care for fresh fruit at all. I don't either but I try to eat it occasionally. He took care of those trees for mama though. She was always watching and waiting for the fruit to change from tiny little green peaches, so hard you couldn't even cut them, to the soft, fuzzy, juicy peaches so well known in this area and Parker County just to the west of us. Way back then the waste disposal team, or "garbage men" as we called them, came twice a week. They would jump off the side of the truck with their own cans, 55 gallon drums with a handle cut in, run to the backyards of every home, dump the trash cans into their big drums until they were full. Then they would run back to the truck, unload and repeat the process until every house in the neighborhood was free of trash. They did this twice a week!! Not one single first grader ever raised his hand in class to announce he or she wanted to be a garbage man when grown. If you were a nice neighbor, you would leave your water hose connected to the front of the house so they could get a drink or douse themselves with water. Summers in Texas were brutal back then too. If you were a really really good neighbor you would serve them lemonade. I doubt they got much lemonade but they did discover a golden prize in our yard during the summers. They loved to pick peaches off our trees to eat when they came by. My mom was a compassionate soul so she didn't think too much about it at first. As the practice became more commonplace she would watch for the truck to come down our street and then go out to protect her peaches. One year the entire crop was filled with worms of some kind. She let those garbage men have all they wanted that year.

The incident which became known as the Great Peach War of 1959* happened in one day. Actually, it took only about half an hour to have lasting consequences. Our aunt Dovie and uncle JD Wardlow brought their boys, Jamie and Donnie, to visit one weekend in late spring. Those boys had a knack for doing things that got us into trouble. In fact, it was a rare visit for all five of us kids not to be in serious trouble after Jamie and Donnie came for a visit. This particular time the peach trees were absolutely covered with little green peaches. The harvest was going to be the best ever. We hadn't been out in the yard more than ten minutes before Jamie picked a green peach and threw it at Donnie. We all laughed and then Donnie paid him back with a green peach right to the forehead. It didn't take any time at all before they were picking and throwing peaches as fast as they could. The more they threw the madder they got with each other. We stopped laughing after the battle got really bad because we could see an awful lot of green peaches lying on the ground. It turned ugly. They stripped the trees in back then ran to the front and stripped the little tree in the front. When there were no more peaches left to throw they started wrestling each other "to the death". We actually got scared. I don't know if one of us ran and told the adults or if they just heard the commotion and came out on their own. Those two boys were hauled inside kicking and screaming while we were left in a yard full of ruined peaches....and mama. We told her we didn't have anything to do with it but the look on her face told us that somebody had to die. Since she didn't think it right to kill off one of her sister's sons, it would have to be one of us. We were told to grab some sacks to pick up all those little peaches for the trash and rest assured she would "see to us" after the Wardlows left on Sunday afternoon. I'm sure glad she had the rest of Saturday and all day Sunday to cool down because we ended the weekend alive. We did have to promise to never let Jamie and Donnie do something that stupid ever again. Of course that was an impossible task. We still got in trouble every time they visited.

Oh yeah, let me add Cindy's memories because they are good memories and they involve fruit, which is of course the topic of the day. She remembers that daddy did like rhubarb. She claims that it is a fruit but it appears to be a noxious weed to me. He liked for mama to make rhubarb pies occasionally and when she did he got to eat the whole pie himself.....might as well make a pie out of broccoli. She also reminded me of when grandpa and grandma Hallmark lived down in the valley (south Texas on the gulf coast and bordering Mexico). Citrus was king down there and our uncle Frog always brought us bags of oranges and grapefruit when he visited. She remembers we would sit and watch TV while peeling and eating grapefruit at night. Good times. I now understand why I feel a bit homesick when I walk through the produce section of the grocery store and smell the grapefruit! Still don't like peaches.

*It is entirely possible you won't find this war listed anywhere but here. Some have mentioned that I have a tendency to "add" to the story a bit. When I do this it becomes fact after a few days. The actions were real, the title possibly not. We never saw anything about it on Sixty Minutes.