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From my cousin Clarence
Ogle of El Paso Texas - August 23, 2008 "Hi, Ed: I will send you a copy of my Dad's birth certificate and mine. Other than that, there is very little I can share about my forebears on the Ogle side. In fact, I can give it all to you right now. My father, Fred Clarence Ogle, was born on Nov.13, 1907 in Indian Territory three days before Oklahoma became a state. My birth certificate shows that he was born in Claremore, but Daddy said that he was born between Claremore and Vinita. Daddy said that his grandaddy Ogle was a full-blooded Irishman (at this point, I'm not certain whether it was his grandfather or his father, Fred Ogle, that was a full-blooded Irishman). I believe Fred Ogle died in 1930. He was a mining superintendent in Arizona. Grandma Ogle was a widow from that time until her death in Claremore in February 1974. Fred Ogle had come home to DeQueen, Ark. and was returning to the mines when he died in an accident. However, my Dad said that some people thought he was killed by an Indian.) Daddy told me about granddaddy Ogle hitting him in the head with a stick of stove wood when he was a little boy. His mother, Rosa Bell Dean Ogle, told the granddaddy, "If you touch that boy again, I'll kill you. She had a shotgun. My half-sister Elizabeth and I spent two whole summers with Grandma Ogle. She lived in a white frame house next to a wood all by herself and there were no neighbors nearby. She still had that shotgun. Grandma was not a fearful woman. We had an outhouse and, on her back porch, a "slop jar" if we had to go at night. Each morning, I walked down the hill to a creek. There was a log over the stream. There were water moccasins in the creek. I walked across the log with my bucket in one hand. I filled the bucket with water from a little spring and walked back across the log and up the hill to Grandma's house. I had a blessed childhood. My Dad was a gentle, honest, hard-working man. He made a little playground in our backyard by building a little carousel and a tire swing and a bag swing. I remember playing in the front yard -- winning the running-backwards races and catching lightning bugs in a Mason jar. My Dad built the last house that we had in DeQueen, Arkansas by himself except for the electrical wiring. It was a good house. When I was a little boy, we were still in the Great Depression. Now and then, men who had been riding freight trains going nowhere would come to our back door and ask something to eat. My mother would say, "If you'll chop that wood over there into kindling, I'll give you a lunch". My mother felt that every human being has dignity. She didn't want those men to feel like tramps looking for a free handout. My Mother was a special and wonderful mother. She died in our house on Nov. 23, 1983. My Dad died in February 1974 a few days before his mother died. My Dad was in the hospital after having successful surgery for stones. The doctors were about ready to send him home. He had a blood clot and died. At the time, I was visiting Grandma Ogle in the hospital in Oklahoma. Less than a week after Daddy died, Grandma died. Grandma wasn't told of her son's death. My sister, Parading Elizabeth Ogle Ketchum, saw Daddy shortly before he died. He said, "I made a lot of mistakes, but Jesus has forgiven me for every one of them. For most of his life, Daddy was a rail car inspector for the St. Louis and Southwestern Railway (the Cotton Belt) in Shreveport, Louisiana. He was a good trader. Once, he bought a used car from a car lot, drove it a couple of blocks down the street and sold it to another used car dealer for a $25 profit. $25 was a day's wage for many people in those days. My Dad's first wife was named Peradine, but I don't know her maiden name. She died six weeks after giving birth to my sister, Elizabeth. Not much genealogy here, just a few memories." |
| From Cousin Clarence Orville Ogle of El Paso, Texas,
October 20, 2008 "Good morning, Ed and Renate: Elizabeth is a widow for the second time, living alone in a retirement home in Bossier City, Louisiana. That's on the other side of the Red River from Shreveport. My dad's first wife was Peradine (Price?). She died six weeks after giving birth to Peradine Elizabeth on Dec. 22, 1928. Some people said that my mother, Lera Mae Wallace, looked a lot like Peradine. Elizabeth married Louis Ray Ketchum right after graduating from high school. They both got bachelor's degrees. Elizabeth got a Master's and taught elementary school in Marshall, Texas (about forty miles from Shreveport) for many years. She retired a number of years ago. Louis and my sister had one adopted son, Louis Ray Ketchum Jr., who lives in Shreveport (now 100% disabled). Louis Ray was administrator of a Baptist charity, a pastor, an insurance salesman, operated a restaurant in Shreveport and one in Bossier City. I think his last main source of income was buying houses and fixing them up (like my Dad). When we were little kids, my sister Elizabeth and I never tattled on each other. When Mother asked who did it, our lips were zipped. Sis has had a number of falls in recent years due to vertigo and not using her walker. She is still active in her Baptist church. Louis died about ten years ago. Sis married a retired Navy Captain, truly a fine Christian gentleman. They had 3 1/2 years together before he died in November of 2007. Sis used to go to family reunions (the Prices ) in DeQueen, Ark. almost every year, but went only once, I believe, after marrying John Calvin Bains. My wife and I cast our votes for McCain and Palin this morning. Have a great day, y'all! Clarence and Hayriye " |
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