Texas Rose

I was on the last leg of my South Texas sales route when I arrived in Panhandle. Smoke was rising from the small grove of cottonwoods at the edge of town. Sheriff Tom and Doc Harris were surrounding the area with yellow “Police Line Do Not Cross” tape.

I parked my car and walked over there.

The Sheriff looked up and said, “Dry lightning. Don’t see it that much but this is proof that it exists.”

A thick cottonwood lay on the ground, smoke rising from the trunk and some of the larger branches. A scorch line from the top branches to the base of the tree marked the lightning’s path. The trunk was split in two.

Doc Harris finished tying off his end of the tape and joined us next to the Sheriff’s cruiser.

“Lotta history on that old tree”, he said. “There usta be an artesian spring here years ago. Shallow water but I hear tell Indians counted on this place to water their horses ‘way back when. The aquifer must be near the surface though to keep these dozen trees alive even through the droughts.”

He wiped his hands on his pants, pointed to the fallen tree and said, “Back in the day before anybody said ‘back in the day’, folks took their wedding vows under these trees. Nothing romantic about it, just common sense. It was cooler under the trees than inside the church.”

I stepped over the tape to take a closer look. Doc and Tom followed. If I had to guess, the tree was at least 50 feet high, the trunk three feet in diameter. There were dozens of initials carved in the trunk, many of them partially covered with hardened sap as the tree healed itself over time. A large carving in the shape of a heart with the initials KM+RO inside had an “X” cut through it.

Doc Harris ran his finger over the “X” and said, “It was before my time but I’ve been told the initials stand for Kenny Miles and Rose O’Dell. As to who put the “X” there, it coulda’ been done by a fella called Burt or another one named Jeff. The story goes those boys, Kenny, Burt, and Jeff courted Rose at the same time. And they all lost.”

I said, “A love rectangle.”

“Yes, you could call it that. Some older folks talk about the time when those boys near killed each other, not intentionally you understand, but dead is dead so there’s that. Courtin’ Rose was not for cowards with these boys around. They had other choices, plenty of other girls available, but they all fell for her.

“They went at each other a whole summer. According to old timers there was some dynamite, horse thieving, a range fire, and other stuff, everybody wondering how it would turn out. Then all of a sudden it was over.”

Tom took off his gloves, put them in his back pocket and said, “Come on, let’s go to Jackie’s. Deputy Dudley ‘ll be here in a minute, watch the place, keep the kids away.”

The bar was empty except for Wendy and Jackie.

Not-So-Happy-Hour at Jackie's

“Jackie, where is everybody?”

“Hi, Doc. You heard I killed the Happy Hour? Nobody was happy about it so they’ve all gone to Billy’s or Chato’s. They’ll be back. It’s noisy and rowdy in regular hours over there and it gets worse with half price beer. Only thing that makes things quiet down is Sheriff Tom starin’ the roughnecks down once or twice a night.

“With the men gone I invited my lady friends to come in for a visit. Doris, Jenny, and Flora comin’ by in a bit. I’m thinkin’ I might make it a regular thing. I invited some churchwomen but they won’t be comin’, this being a bar and all. You know how it is with their kind: If you’re havin’ fun, it’s gotta be a sin. Too bad about that old cottonwood. I used to climb on it when I was a little girl.”

The Sheriff picked the table near the door. Wendy brought our drinks, went back to the bar and sat with Jackie.

I said, “Doc, what was that about dynamite, range fires, and horse thieves?”

“Well, the Rose O'Dell story is so old hardly anybody alive now that saw it in person but people talked about it for years, sort of a legend. Hard to tell what’s true and what’s imagination. I know some of it. The Sheriff does, too. Most of what anybody knows is second or third hand anyway, but it still makes a good yarn.”

Jenny, Doris, and Flora came in, said their hellos, and sat with us. Wendy brought beer mugs for Jenny and Doris and a cup of tea for Flora. “Allergy pills, no alcohol,” she said.

Doc gestured towards the women and said Doris and Flora might know some things. They volunteered at the old folks home where Rose lived ‘til she died.

“Come on, Doc”, I said. “What happened? Dynamite? Range fire?”

“I’ll tell it, but bear in mind every time a story’s told something’s left out or something’s added. My daddy used to call it the 10% Rule – whoever's telling you a story is sure to be addin’ 10% more or taking 10% off if something in the story puts ‘em in a bad light. You won’t know if I’m addin’ or subtractin’ but this what I heard. Anybody here can correct me if I don’t get something right but it’s as best as I can do.

“Those three boys, Burt, Kenny, and Jeff were classmates along with Rose. Nobody knows exactly why they all figured her for a wife after graduating. Could be the fact that the three of them were athletes, football, baseball, basketball, one always tryin’ to do better than the other two. So when Kenny said he was plannin’ to court Rose, the other two probly seen it as a challenge. Who the hell knows what goes through young boys heads, I mean besides the obvious. But it wasn’t like that, I don’t think. Tom, Les, and I talked this over and considerin’ the ‘facts’ as we know ‘em, we more or less agree on that point.”

Tom pointed at me with his drink and said, “Back then, courtin’ meant you had to meet the family before anything else. And if the girl had brothers they might give you something to worry about if they didn’t like you. No matter who you were, just to be safe you’d be wise to take a month or two before even tryin’ to hold hands.”

Doc signaled Wendy for another drink and said, “Kenny had his sights set on Rose so one Sunday he waited ‘til she and her folks got to the church and fixed it so he sat next to her, said hello and what a nice day it is, and all that. Next Sunday there’s Rose in church sitting between Kenny and Bert with Jeff sitting in the pew behind them. They were fidgeting so much the minister stopped the sermon, called them out, made the three of ‘em sit together in the front pew.”

Front row for children and rowdy young men

Flora put her teacup down, cleared her throat and said, “Doris and I helped out at the old folks home. Rose died a year after we started. We used talk to her, give 'er some company, let her talk about the olden days. All her family was dead and gone. She told us the summer those boys courted her was the most fun she ever had. Whatever one of them did, the other two would try twice as hard to top ‘im. It got so her daddy had to give ‘em a schedule so they wouldn’t fuss over who would take her on a date Saturday night. They rotated days. Monday and Thursday one of ‘em could sit with her on the porch and just talk. ‘Course, daddy or one of her brothers would be inside next to the open window just in case, you know. Sundays at church, same thing, take turns sitting next to her, take her home slow after.”

Mind your manners. You know everybody's listening

Doris added, “Her friends were jealous but what could she do? It wasn’t like she was showing favor for one over the other two. If she ever thought of marryin’ one of ‘em she never let on. She told us she didn’t think she was anything special. She was prettier than some, not as pretty as others but is was mighty flattering to have those boys doin’ everything they could to get her attention.”

Wendy brought Doc’s drink. He thanked her and said, “Those boys kept raisin’ the stakes then things got out of hand at the end of August. Each one thought one of the others had the upper hand.

“One day Rose told Jeff in passin’ that she wished she could still sit under the shade by the pond near Seven Mile Road. The pond dried up when ranchers dammed up a natural spring upstream a ways so cattle could have water year round.

Cool off. Dip your toes in the water

“Jeff got the idea he could blast a small gap in the earthen dam, just enough to fill the pond so he set out with two sticks of dynamite to do just that. Rose was sure to be grateful.

“He cut the fuse for a 10 second lead, time enough to get away from the blast. Ten seconds go by, no explosion, then a minute, five minutes, ten minutes, nothin’ happens. He figures he’s got a dud so he takes another stick, cuts the fuse, and gets up to set it on the dam. Of course, like in every story you ever heard, the first stick exploded shootin’ dirt and rocks everywhere. Lucky for Jeff, most of it blasted away from him but one stone hit him square on the head and knocked him out.

“Well, ‘cept for the big ol' knot between his eyes and a concussion, Jeff got what he wanted. The dam gave way and sent water down the gully filling up the hollow under the trees. It kept risin’ and goin’ ‘til it reached the road where Burt’s truck had started a grass fire.”

I started to ask what fire but he said, “Don’t interrupt, sonny boy. Everything in its time.

“Seems Burt found out Jeff bought some dynamite an’ he got curious about what he was up to so he followed him around without him knowing, stayin’ back just enough. Saw ‘im leave town pullin’ a horse trailer. When Jeff got off Seven Mile Road and mounted his horse Burt couldn’t follow anymore so he parked on the side of the road to follow on foot. That old truck was overheated from being old, probly. Anyway, the grass under it caught fire.

Straight 6, no airbags

“Burt walked maybe a hundred yards up the road and he could see Jeff pretty far off crouching behind a boulder facing the dam. He saw Jeff stand up just as the dynamite exploded. A second later Burt’s truck exploded behind him from the grass fire. He was so startled he stumbled into the culvert and twisted his leg real bad, hurt like the devil, he couldn’t stand up.

“That leaves Kenny, probly the smartest of the three. He noticed Jeff acting funny, too, so he kept his eye out for him, saw him leave town towin’ his horse trailer. A few minutes later he spied Burt getting’ in his truck and headin’ the same way. Kenny followed him.

“He was watching Burt turning on to Seven Mile Road when he ran out of gas. Nothin’ to do about that so he headed back to town on foot thinkin’ of stopping at a ranch see if they could give him some gas. Half hour walkin’ he gets to a ranch when he hears two explosions up in the hills where Burt was goin’. There’s thick, black smoke risin’ to the sky. It’s gotta be Burt and maybe Jeff, too. Not thinkin’ twice he runs to the bunkhouse where there’s three horses saddled up. He hops on a horse and gallops off towards the smoke.

“Meantime, the rancher’s wife hears the explosions, she goes outside to take look and sees Kenny stealin’ the horse. She doesn’t have her rifle so she does the next best thing; she yells at her cowhands to get the horse thief and calls the Sheriff.

“Kenny reaches Seven Mile Road, he can see Burt’s truck on fire ‘bout a quarter mile away when he’s lassoed, jerked off his horse. Lucky for him the cowhands didn’t shoot ‘im, just beat him up some. Thievin’s serious business. They were gettin’ ready to lay him across the horse and tie ‘im up when the Sheriff and his Deputy interrupted them.

The wages of not too smart

“They found Burt’s truck. The fire was out. Water from the busted dam had flooded the culverts and washed over the road where the truck was parked. Burt was up a ways in the culvert, covered head to toe in mud, half drowned, holdin’ his leg and moaning. They pulled him out and he told 'em go look for Jeff at the dam.

“The Sheriff and the Deputy went up the trail on horseback. They found Jeff, thought he was dead, all the blood on his face.

“That ended the competition for Rose O’Dell’s hand what with the three boys injured in various ways, also from their daddies layin’ in on ‘em hard for being knuckleheads.”

“Wow. That’s some story, Doc. So which one did she pick?” I asked.

He looked at me as though I should be arrested for breathing air I didn’t deserve.

“Weren’t you payin’ attention, sonny boy? I told you right at the beginnin’ she didn't marry any of ‘em. Pity’s sake, if dumb questions was a crime you just committed Felony Stupid.”

He finished his drink in one hard swallow, nodded at Flora.

“Flora, you tell ‘im what happened.”

“Rose O’Dell, she was a sweet lady, always tried to look her best, be nice to everybody. She told me she met her husband at a USO dance down in Snyder. He was a sailor just out of the service. Rick was the only Navy man in the VFW hall, all dressed up in starched Navy whites, seemed to glow among the rest of the men wearing khaki Army uniforms. Accordin' to her she decided on him inside a minute after she laid eyes on ‘im.”

Doris said, “And you won’t believe what she said happened next. Lord knows I don’t.”

“He stood in front of her and the very first thing he said was, ‘Will you marry me?’ And she said, ‘Yes, but, first, we’d better call my folks and let ‘em know.’”

The Navy gets the gravy but Army gets the beans