"Auxier-DeLong - Brown - Allied Families" by Ova O. DeLong - Page 71-88
THE AUTHOR: OVA OAKLAND & THELMA LOUISE (KOUNS) DELONG:
The writer was born 18 January 1912 at Matthew, Morgan County, Kentucky to parents: Thomas Jefferson, "T.J." DeLong & Sarah Magdalene "Maggie" Brown. He was the tenth of eleven children. He grew up with and was tutored by sisters: Vergie and Vernie; brothers: Cletis, Rollie, Estill and Brownie, having lost: twin brothers: Jimmie and Willie who died young, sister Bertie Mae who was taken by Diphtheria, and one brother, still-born, and unnamed. Ova grew upon and called home for twenty-five years his parent's farm on Keeton, once called Maiden Branch., not far from Licking River, but above flood level. T. J. had purchased three parcels of land which together composed the one-hundred-fifteen (acre) farm, mostly hill, but enough bottom for truck and buildings. Eventially(sic) three of my brothers, and a brother-in-law purchased the remainder of the water-shed, and allowed Popa to use the additional land as he chose. By the time I reached mid-teens my brothers had left home in search of more profitable employment. For several years four and two brother-in-law worked in the coal mines. I never did work in the mines, but did consider it a great privilege: on one occasion to attend school for one term in Hardburley and live with Brother Cletis and his wife Vada; and on another occasion: to attend school for one term at Sitka, Johnson County, Kentucky, on Toms Creek, and live with Sister Vernie, and her husband, Rance Stambaugh. Rance worked in the coal mines, and farmed on the side. I think I was a help to them also, and they pampered me a lot. I would take on of the Estepp boys with me, and drive Rance's mule team to Paintsville for supplies. School at Sitka was a real pleasure. Lionel Sublett was teacher of the one room school, and we students loved him very much. He had been a football star at Mayo College, and he taught us eighth-graders a watered down version of football. Our Christmas play was a huge success, and upon my graduation I made many friends, both in and out of school.
The school was out one week earlier than my home school at Rockhouse. I came home just in time to take the test and qualify for a second diploma.
(the next paragraph is a repeat of an earlier story and thus omitted from this bio. /editor)
PAGE 72
I was taught farm chores at an early age, and was sent to school at age of seven. Popa was a skilled teamster and taught us how to care for, how to train, horses, mules, and cattle, and to handle successfully each, and any combination.
Life on that little farm was a happy one. There wasn't much money, but we didn't need much money. We grew just about everything we ate. When we went to the store we took some chickens, eggs or whatever Popa sold tanning bark so long as chestnut oaks lasted. Then he would select trees just the right size, saw to the right length for rail-road ties, score them with a very sharp double-bit ax, and hew them square, and to size. My memory tells me that specifications were: 7X(X9 feet long. We boys hauled, and helped. Rollie and I enjoyed teaming most. The three other brothers could take it, or leave it. Popa used a "broad Ax" to hew. I thought he could stick a sharp ax deeper into an oak log than anyone, and I marveled at the smoothe(sic) and accurate job he did with his "Broad Ax". I think I enjoyed most taking a load rail-road ties to Wells Station on the C & O Rail-road. Henry Franklin kept a general store there, and we would buy a coke, and some cheese and crackers, and we had a good lunch. Mr. Franklin had three sons, and the youngest as my age, and we became life-long friends. When the order was filled I didn’t see him again until I began hauling barrel staves from the Leander Elam Stave Mill on Big Branch, sometimes called Griffitts Branch. This was real exciting. By this time I was in my early teens, and thre girls whom I often saw on Sunday at the Whitoak(sic) Christian Church lived on May Branch. Lurlene Smallwood lived with her widowed mother and grandparents near the mouth of the branch, and the McGraws lived about half way up the branch. It seemed they always just seemed to be in plain view as I passed. McGraw's house and front yard sat about eight, or ten feet above the branch, and the road was a one-way wagon road mid-distance between the two. On one occasion my wagon, the third of six wagons, all loaded with staves, struck a rock which had been dislodged by the wagon in front of mine which threw my wagon over on its side in the branch. The three wagons behind me stopped. One of the drivers behind me, a good driver, actually a distant cousin, but I didn't (sic know) that at the time, asked: "Why doesn't Jeff Delong put a man to driving that team?" No one said a word as I took a utility chain, run it around the coupling pole, snatched the hook over the chain, brought the chain up and over the wagon load of staves, unhooked my leaders from the end of the wagon tongue, hooked them to the end of the chain up on Ed McGraw’s front yard, gave the mules, which I called Beck & Pearl, the word, and without a moment’s hesitation they snapped that wagon load of barrel staves over onto four wheels. I replaced the leaders to the end of the wagon tongue, and everyone proceeded to Wells Station. The two older men, driving the last two wagons, stared at each other silently. The young driver, only a few years older than I said not a word. Not a stave fell off my wagon. After the stave was finished I didn’t see my friend, Walter franklin, for quite a while, but our paths did cross a few years later. That’s another story
Page 73
AT the age of fifteen I wanted to go to high school, but the nearest high school was in West-Liberty, ten miles down the river. As luck would have it Brother Rollie, and his good wife Flossie said I could live with them, then living in Rosemont Gardens, Lexington, Ky. To get there I walked eighteen miles to Wrigley, caught a passenger vehicle, called the Blue Goose, on the Morehead-Northfork Railroad, transferred to the L&N at Morehead and sometime that night I arrived, and was met by Brother Rollie in Lexington, which appeared to me to be a might big city. Rollie and Flossie had only been living in Lexington about a year, I think. When schools opened Flossie and Rollie took me to Picadome High and enrolled and introduced me to Miss Cummings with whom I enjoyed a mutual affection. That was a happy year for me, in school and out of school. Rollie was employed by the Turner Family, and the Turners and the Delongs became great friends. Two of Flossie’s brothers, life-long friends of mine, also lived there and worked for the Turners. There was also plenty work available for me when I was out of school.
(the next two paragraphs have information about Flossie's family and a Mr. Smith, not material to this bio. /editor)
Page 74 - blank
Page 75
(First paragraph about the Morehead Normal School President and staff was not copied. /editor)
After two years and armed with a Provisional Elementary Certificate I opened on July 5, 1929 my first school at Rockhouse School at Matthew, Morgan County, Kentucky, my home school.
The elementary school term was from July to January. The holders of provisional certificates were required to return to school, which by this time added the name college, and earn a specified number of semester hours of credit and renew their certificates before they could return to teaching. Most of my pupils had grown up with me, neighbors, cousins, and friends.
Other young people in the community were doing the same thing as I was doing. The home school had to be passed around. Orpha McGuire, my second cousin, had been my teacher, and later at college my fellow student and friend. Ruby Kennard, another second cousin, preceded me, and another second cousin, Ottis McGuire, followed me. I came back later to teach the home school, but in the mean time I taught three years at Donahue School, located among the cliffs of Licking River, and across the mountain from the Paragon Post Office, which is located on the North Fork of Licking River. These were all happy years. I was still in my teens, and some of my pupils were my own age. In education we were dedicated, and socially we were friends.
(the rest of page 75 discusses people he worked with and his leaving Donahue School and has no mention of anything that needs to be added to this bio. /editor)
Page 76 - blank
Page 77 - Popa dies:
Instead of returning to Morehead College for the 1933 Spring Semester, where 17 semester hours as the maximum load a student was allowed to carry, I enrolled at the University of Kentucky, where 18 semester hours was the maximum one was allowed to carry during Spring Semester. There in class one day during the last week of March, I received a telegram advising me that Popa had been seriously injured by a log that he was hauling off the hill. Brother Rollie had left early that morning for Louisville with a truck load of household furnishings for our neighbors, the O'Neal(s). We made a call to his destination, and left a message advising him of Popa's accident, and to rush home as soon as possible.
As soon as possible after his return we jumped into my 1931 Ford, with Rollie at the wheel, and rushed home, averaging a little more than 60 mph, about all the car would make.
Dr. Murray was treating Popa, and within a few days the pneumonia which Popa had contracted from the internal injuries incurred in the accident had improved, though Popa was very weak. Rollie and I, thinking that Popa was going to be ok, returned to Lexington. However, in about a week we were again called home. The pneumonia had spread to Pop's other lung, and Popa was too weak to overcome it. Dr. Murray came, and our beloved cousin, Kennie Brown, came. We all worked until the last breath but to no avail. The end came at 1:10 A.M. April 10, 1933.
Rev, Harlan Murphy and Rev. K. C. Bolin officiated at Popa's funeral, with burial at the Brown Cemetery near by on Rockhouse Creek. Popa was preceded in death by twins, Jim and Willie, Bertie May, and one male child un-named.
I returned to the university and successful completed the 8 semester hours, but to renew my certificate 32 semester hours were required. There was ten days until Summer School opened.
Sister Vernie and husband Rance Stambaugh, and children had moved in with Moma. A crop had to be planted, or there would be no feed for the livestock the following winter and there was one more problem: Popa had borrowed money promising to pay off the note when he sold the livestock. The first of June was no time to sell livestock. I made a quick decision: I sold my car, and went to the bank and redeemed Popa's note.
WE prepared the ground and planted the crop in time and on June 10, with five cents my pocket I was hitch-hiking my way to Morehead College. Three hitches; a one-hour nap at noon-time, did the trick, and I arrived about six o’clock. My old buddy, Clinton McGuire had made reservation for me to share his room.
Things were looking pretty good. Whereas the university allowed a maximum of 13 semester hours to be carried during the ten-week Summer Session, Morehead allowed 14, and I needed 32 semester hours to renew my certificate. A job was waiting. That night in a neighboring room about 30 boys whom I knew held a jam session. I asked about the possibility of obtaining a work-ship, Impossible was the answer. I didn't say anything, but I didn’t believe it, at least not until I tried.
Page 78 - A type-writer is borrowed
I borrowed a type-writer, went to our room, and typed an application for a work-ship. I took the letter and deposited in President's personal mail box. The next morning as I walked through the administration building, I met President Payne. He said he received my letter, but there were no jobs, adding that he was not taking the matter up until 9:30. I walked into his waiting room just about 9:30, and found that about 30 boys were there already, for the same purpose I was there, including room-mate. While I waited my turn several went into the president’s private office, and we watched to see who came out with a small slip of paper in his hand. A few did, including my room-mate. Clinton, you will remember the remark the president made as you entered.
Finally President Payne came to call the next in line, and it was my turn, and I quote the conversation: "Now Ova, what's this about a job?" I told him that I (had) no money, that I needed 4 semester-hours, that I had earned 18 over at the university during the Spring Semester. He replied: " You go over there, spend your money. And come back and ask for a job." To this I replied: "17 + 13 do not equal 32, but that 18 + 14 do equal 32". Then he advised that if I remained through Summer School, and through the Fall Term that I would stand a good chance of getting a job for the next Spring Semester. I said "President Payne, I came down here with five cents in my pocket to get 14 semester hours, and I am not leaving here until I get them. Next year, Next month, next week, or tomorrow would not do, but right now." Then he handed me an assignment slip, saying "this will take care of your meals, but not your room", and looking across the room at a guest, the dean of Berea College, he asked "am I right?" The dean answered in the affirmative. I reported immediately to the cafeteria, and went to work. I was serving ice cream as my friends came through the line at lunch, and asked in whose place I was working. It took a few days to convince them I was working in my own place.
Upon completion of the 32 semester-hours needed I renewed my certificate, and presented same to the Superintendent of Johnson County Schools, who at that time was a fine gentleman by the name of Orville Wheeler, who later became Kentucky State Superintendent of Schools. I then went directly to the John's Creek School, located just above the horse-shoe bend of lower John's Creek, and on the front of the Flat-woods Branch Farm, purchased from Rev. Samuel Hanna, by George Delong, III, and given to his eldest son, William Isaac Delong, my Paternal grandfather.
Below the bend began the Auxier Land, or originally 1500 acres purchased by Samuel Auxier, Sr. and his wife, Sarah Brown. Long since the land had been divided into smaller farms, and owned in 1933 by two of Samuel, Sr.'s G-Grandsons, Henry Auxier, and James Sr. Auxier. This was a community where William Isaac Delong, Sr. and Rebeccah(sic) Alley Delong brought into the world 14 children, eight living beyond three score and ten, and one beyond ninety.
My pupils included children with names like Delong, Wells, Steward, Richmond, Hopson, Hurt and Phelps. Many of the pupils in coming to school took short-cuts across the flat ground, formerly my Grandfather's farm. The father of the Wells pupils was a descendant of George E & Elizabeth Delong Wells, 1806-& 1800 resp'.
Page 79 (3 paragraphs omitted on this page that talked only about the church and those who were pastor or attended the church - non Delongs.)
When I returned to ARMCO, I was first assigned to standing by where I had started before, on call wherever a man was needed, the blast furnace, transfer and labor, dubbed take it, or leave it, the ore shed, the sheet mill, processing, finishing, or shipping. It wasn't long before Chester Strother, foreman, asked that I be transferred to the Finishing Department. After several years in the Finishing Department, during which time I was attending classes at Booth's Business College. A recorder's job opened at the Open Hearth Department. I applied for it, and was accepted. I remained there until the U.S. enter World War, II, at which time I sought employment where I thought I could be most valuable to the war effort.
In the meantime, as mentioned elsewhere, I had met, courted, and married Thelma Lousie Kouns. As before mentioned we were married on her birthday, January 7, 1939, and on August 2, 1940, Larry David was born. March 12, 1942, Gary Joseph was born. Thelma's brother, Alben Barkley Kouns, had completed at the local trade school a course in the machinist trade. He had gone to Bridgeport, Connecticut, found work and wrote for Thelma & I and Katheryn, to join him there, for there was plenty of jobs in defense plants. Gene & Helen went first. They and Alben rented an apartment. I followed, found a job at the Bullard Machine Tool Company, as learner, with Alben as my instructor on a milling machine.
Page 80 - A church is reopened:
The Philadelphia Church of Christ, where the William Isaac, Sr. & Rebeccah Alley Delong Family had worshiped many years before, stood on the bank of John's Creek, about a mile above the school, facing the creek, and overlooking a dirt road no longer used as a new road had been built behind the church. The church had been closed several years before, abandoned several years, had fallen into disrepute, and used for immoral purposes. I mentioned to some of my school patrons that I preferred to teach in a community that had a church. Mrs. Ben Delong took the initiative, talked it up, and came up with a proposition: If the men of the community would reverse the front door and paint the exterior of the church, the women would paint the interior. The objective was accomplished forthwith, and the church was reopened. Rev. Spurgeon Honeycutt, of Auxier, Ky., was called, and accepted the ministry. Sunday school was organized, officers were elected, a choir was organized and the Annual Convention of the Churches of Christ chose Philadelphia Church for their conventions site.
The teacher was very happy professionally, spiritually, and socially. He had found a great personal friend in the person of Jimmie Auxier, Jr., and he was living with the Ben and Sarah Sammons Delong and their big family. Moreover, the convention had been a huge success.
This was a rare opportunity for me to really get acquainted with my father's people, as most of them lived on John's Creek. I spent two wonderful years in what had been Nero, Kentucky, a post-office long since closed. Another job was waiting. I helped to secure the school for my Cousin, Brooksie Webb, and took my leave. Perhaps I should add that the romance developed there which almost, but never quite matured.
The Steel Mill:
My next job was in Ashland, Kentucky at the American Rolling Mill Company, where I had previously worked for eight months between school terms. After getting a job I made plans to bring Moma to Ashland. I rented a modern log house standing on four acres of fertile land, with a stable a brooding house, and two laying houses. Rollie moved Moma and as much livestock as we could handle, which included two cows, three pigs, and 500 chickens. Moma was as happy as anywhere she could have been, other than on Keeton Branch. The junior farm was located at the end of 29th Street, in South Ashland, and Mom's three brothers, and one sister lived within a mile, or so in South Ashland.
Page 81
When I had found work I wrote for Thelma and our two small children to join me, and within a few days they, sisters, Mary Margaret & Kathryn, and two of their friends joined us. All crowded into one apartment while we looked for another. The only thing we could find was a house thirteen miles out in the country, owned by an attorney on President Roosevelt’s dollar-a year brain trust.
(the rest of this page really does not tell much, except stories about his work, such as the fact he broke a $75.00 cutter and got demoted and they found bed bugs in their rented apartment! After the bedbug incident they moved to Lexington, Kentucky where he worked a few weeks on a farm. From there he went to Louisville and applied for a job at Curtis-Wright’ Agency. /editor)
Page 82
I was hired, and assigned to a group of thirty men being sent to St. Louis, Mo. To be trained as a nucleus for a new plant then under construction in Louisville. The following Monday I went to St. Louis. After three weeks of intense training in the Curtis-Wright St Louis Plant, located under ground twenty mile out of St. Louis we returned to Louisville and opened the plant, though the ends of the building were still open. A few months later the pressure became very great for the delivery of more planes, though shortages of certain parts were holding us up. It culminated in our superintendent getting fired, and all the men who had gone to St. Louis with him picked up their tools and followed, each man going his own way. After a few interim jobs I ended up as tool-maker at Convair, a merger of Consolidated and Vultee Aircraft.
One of my interim jobs had been machinist & tool-maker at Reynolds Metals. The popular personnel Manager, Mr. Sullivan, took the entire machine shop crew, and transferred to Convair, a fine company, but the men didn't trust Mr. Sullivan's superior. Labor troubles developed, and a strike was called. I told Mr. Sullivan of this miss-trust and he told me that his superior would be out of town for the next week, leaving him in full charge. I told the men they could believe anything Mr. Sullivan told them. Mr. Sullivan met with us, and the strike was called off that very night.
My years at Convair were interesting, and challenging. We made dies without prints, and did our own heat-treating. Then the war began to wind down and RIFT notices were being passed out with options of transferring to other company plants, either one at Oakridge, Tennessee, and one at San Francisco Naval Shipyard. I walked across the room, telephoned the paper and placed an ad. The next day I went down town, and signed up with the U.S. Navy to come to San Francisco. (I'm leaving out a few lines here that of no importance /editor)
The Navy put us up overnight at Middle Point; then the next moved us to Richmond from where we commuted for three weeks until housing was available at Hunters Point. As soon as a baby-sitter was found Thelma also went to work at the yard, as a business machine operator.
When the war ended RIFT notices again were passed out, and I received one on Friday. When I got home I saw in the paper that school teachers were needed. I rushed down to the school superintendent's office, was told that if I could put a California credential on his desk by 2:00 p.m. on Saturday I could begin teaching the following Monday. Thelma and I made a rush trip to Sacramento, acquired the needed certificate, and had at 20 minutes of 2:00 P.M. Saturday placed it on the superintendent's desk. I went to teaching the following Monday.
Page 83 - Ova Oakland Delong & Thelma Louise Kouns
Thelma was born 7 January 1918 in Frankfort, Kentucky near the Old Capitol on Holmes Street, to John L. Kouns and Dora McNeal.
Thelma was educated in the Ashland Schools, and it was on the occasion of her graduation that her future husband, whom she had never met, and who had come to witness the graduation of his cousin, the late highly honored Dr. Benjamin Loyd Brown of Washington, D.C. Thelma began her career in Ashland, as secretary in small offices at first, and later as operator of business machines at Bituminous Coal Commission. Thelma was on a diving exhibition. They were married the following year, on Thelma's birthday, 7 January, 1939 in Grayson, Kentucky. Thelma followed her career in Ashland, in Louisville, and finally in the San Francisco Naval Shipyard from which she retired in January 1968.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Their children:
1. Larry David - born 2 August 1940 Ashland, Boyd County, KY.
2. Gary Joseph - born 12 March 1942 Ashland, Boyd County, KY
3. Darlene - born 1 January 1946 San Francisco, CA. Born with a brain tumor; lived 10 weeks, died March 13, 1946; buried Cypress Lawn Cemetery, Colma, California.
4. Sharon Louise - born 9 November 1947 - probably born in California, since he says she went to school there, but does not give location of birth.
5. Samuel J. - born 27 January 1949.
THE AUTHOR: OVA OAKLAND & THELMA LOUISE (KOUNS) DELONG:
The writer was born 18 January 1912 at Matthew, Morgan County, Kentucky to parents: Thomas Jefferson, "T.J." DeLong & Sarah Magdalene "Maggie" Brown. He was the tenth of eleven children. He grew up with and was tutored by sisters: Vergie and Vernie; brothers: Cletis, Rollie, Estill and Brownie, having lost: twin brothers: Jimmie and Willie who died young, sister Bertie Mae who was taken by Diphtheria, and one brother, still-born, and unnamed. Ova grew upon and called home for twenty-five years his parent's farm on Keeton, once called Maiden Branch., not far from Licking River, but above flood level. T. J. had purchased three parcels of land which together composed the one-hundred-fifteen (acre) farm, mostly hill, but enough bottom for truck and buildings. Eventially(sic) three of my brothers, and a brother-in-law purchased the remainder of the water-shed, and allowed Popa to use the additional land as he chose. By the time I reached mid-teens my brothers had left home in search of more profitable employment. For several years four and two brother-in-law worked in the coal mines. I never did work in the mines, but did consider it a great privilege: on one occasion to attend school for one term in Hardburley and live with Brother Cletis and his wife Vada; and on another occasion: to attend school for one term at Sitka, Johnson County, Kentucky, on Toms Creek, and live with Sister Vernie, and her husband, Rance Stambaugh. Rance worked in the coal mines, and farmed on the side. I think I was a help to them also, and they pampered me a lot. I would take on of the Estepp boys with me, and drive Rance's mule team to Paintsville for supplies. School at Sitka was a real pleasure. Lionel Sublett was teacher of the one room school, and we students loved him very much. He had been a football star at Mayo College, and he taught us eighth-graders a watered down version of football. Our Christmas play was a huge success, and upon my graduation I made many friends, both in and out of school.
The school was out one week earlier than my home school at Rockhouse. I came home just in time to take the test and qualify for a second diploma.
(the next paragraph is a repeat of an earlier story and thus omitted from this bio. /editor)
PAGE 72
I was taught farm chores at an early age, and was sent to school at age of seven. Popa was a skilled teamster and taught us how to care for, how to train, horses, mules, and cattle, and to handle successfully each, and any combination.
Life on that little farm was a happy one. There wasn't much money, but we didn't need much money. We grew just about everything we ate. When we went to the store we took some chickens, eggs or whatever Popa sold tanning bark so long as chestnut oaks lasted. Then he would select trees just the right size, saw to the right length for rail-road ties, score them with a very sharp double-bit ax, and hew them square, and to size. My memory tells me that specifications were: 7X(X9 feet long. We boys hauled, and helped. Rollie and I enjoyed teaming most. The three other brothers could take it, or leave it. Popa used a "broad Ax" to hew. I thought he could stick a sharp ax deeper into an oak log than anyone, and I marveled at the smoothe(sic) and accurate job he did with his "Broad Ax". I think I enjoyed most taking a load rail-road ties to Wells Station on the C & O Rail-road. Henry Franklin kept a general store there, and we would buy a coke, and some cheese and crackers, and we had a good lunch. Mr. Franklin had three sons, and the youngest as my age, and we became life-long friends. When the order was filled I didn’t see him again until I began hauling barrel staves from the Leander Elam Stave Mill on Big Branch, sometimes called Griffitts Branch. This was real exciting. By this time I was in my early teens, and thre girls whom I often saw on Sunday at the Whitoak(sic) Christian Church lived on May Branch. Lurlene Smallwood lived with her widowed mother and grandparents near the mouth of the branch, and the McGraws lived about half way up the branch. It seemed they always just seemed to be in plain view as I passed. McGraw's house and front yard sat about eight, or ten feet above the branch, and the road was a one-way wagon road mid-distance between the two. On one occasion my wagon, the third of six wagons, all loaded with staves, struck a rock which had been dislodged by the wagon in front of mine which threw my wagon over on its side in the branch. The three wagons behind me stopped. One of the drivers behind me, a good driver, actually a distant cousin, but I didn't (sic know) that at the time, asked: "Why doesn't Jeff Delong put a man to driving that team?" No one said a word as I took a utility chain, run it around the coupling pole, snatched the hook over the chain, brought the chain up and over the wagon load of staves, unhooked my leaders from the end of the wagon tongue, hooked them to the end of the chain up on Ed McGraw’s front yard, gave the mules, which I called Beck & Pearl, the word, and without a moment’s hesitation they snapped that wagon load of barrel staves over onto four wheels. I replaced the leaders to the end of the wagon tongue, and everyone proceeded to Wells Station. The two older men, driving the last two wagons, stared at each other silently. The young driver, only a few years older than I said not a word. Not a stave fell off my wagon. After the stave was finished I didn’t see my friend, Walter franklin, for quite a while, but our paths did cross a few years later. That’s another story
Page 73
AT the age of fifteen I wanted to go to high school, but the nearest high school was in West-Liberty, ten miles down the river. As luck would have it Brother Rollie, and his good wife Flossie said I could live with them, then living in Rosemont Gardens, Lexington, Ky. To get there I walked eighteen miles to Wrigley, caught a passenger vehicle, called the Blue Goose, on the Morehead-Northfork Railroad, transferred to the L&N at Morehead and sometime that night I arrived, and was met by Brother Rollie in Lexington, which appeared to me to be a might big city. Rollie and Flossie had only been living in Lexington about a year, I think. When schools opened Flossie and Rollie took me to Picadome High and enrolled and introduced me to Miss Cummings with whom I enjoyed a mutual affection. That was a happy year for me, in school and out of school. Rollie was employed by the Turner Family, and the Turners and the Delongs became great friends. Two of Flossie’s brothers, life-long friends of mine, also lived there and worked for the Turners. There was also plenty work available for me when I was out of school.
(the next two paragraphs have information about Flossie's family and a Mr. Smith, not material to this bio. /editor)
Page 74 - blank
Page 75
(First paragraph about the Morehead Normal School President and staff was not copied. /editor)
After two years and armed with a Provisional Elementary Certificate I opened on July 5, 1929 my first school at Rockhouse School at Matthew, Morgan County, Kentucky, my home school.
The elementary school term was from July to January. The holders of provisional certificates were required to return to school, which by this time added the name college, and earn a specified number of semester hours of credit and renew their certificates before they could return to teaching. Most of my pupils had grown up with me, neighbors, cousins, and friends.
Other young people in the community were doing the same thing as I was doing. The home school had to be passed around. Orpha McGuire, my second cousin, had been my teacher, and later at college my fellow student and friend. Ruby Kennard, another second cousin, preceded me, and another second cousin, Ottis McGuire, followed me. I came back later to teach the home school, but in the mean time I taught three years at Donahue School, located among the cliffs of Licking River, and across the mountain from the Paragon Post Office, which is located on the North Fork of Licking River. These were all happy years. I was still in my teens, and some of my pupils were my own age. In education we were dedicated, and socially we were friends.
(the rest of page 75 discusses people he worked with and his leaving Donahue School and has no mention of anything that needs to be added to this bio. /editor)
Page 76 - blank
Page 77 - Popa dies:
Instead of returning to Morehead College for the 1933 Spring Semester, where 17 semester hours as the maximum load a student was allowed to carry, I enrolled at the University of Kentucky, where 18 semester hours was the maximum one was allowed to carry during Spring Semester. There in class one day during the last week of March, I received a telegram advising me that Popa had been seriously injured by a log that he was hauling off the hill. Brother Rollie had left early that morning for Louisville with a truck load of household furnishings for our neighbors, the O'Neal(s). We made a call to his destination, and left a message advising him of Popa's accident, and to rush home as soon as possible.
As soon as possible after his return we jumped into my 1931 Ford, with Rollie at the wheel, and rushed home, averaging a little more than 60 mph, about all the car would make.
Dr. Murray was treating Popa, and within a few days the pneumonia which Popa had contracted from the internal injuries incurred in the accident had improved, though Popa was very weak. Rollie and I, thinking that Popa was going to be ok, returned to Lexington. However, in about a week we were again called home. The pneumonia had spread to Pop's other lung, and Popa was too weak to overcome it. Dr. Murray came, and our beloved cousin, Kennie Brown, came. We all worked until the last breath but to no avail. The end came at 1:10 A.M. April 10, 1933.
Rev, Harlan Murphy and Rev. K. C. Bolin officiated at Popa's funeral, with burial at the Brown Cemetery near by on Rockhouse Creek. Popa was preceded in death by twins, Jim and Willie, Bertie May, and one male child un-named.
I returned to the university and successful completed the 8 semester hours, but to renew my certificate 32 semester hours were required. There was ten days until Summer School opened.
Sister Vernie and husband Rance Stambaugh, and children had moved in with Moma. A crop had to be planted, or there would be no feed for the livestock the following winter and there was one more problem: Popa had borrowed money promising to pay off the note when he sold the livestock. The first of June was no time to sell livestock. I made a quick decision: I sold my car, and went to the bank and redeemed Popa's note.
WE prepared the ground and planted the crop in time and on June 10, with five cents my pocket I was hitch-hiking my way to Morehead College. Three hitches; a one-hour nap at noon-time, did the trick, and I arrived about six o’clock. My old buddy, Clinton McGuire had made reservation for me to share his room.
Things were looking pretty good. Whereas the university allowed a maximum of 13 semester hours to be carried during the ten-week Summer Session, Morehead allowed 14, and I needed 32 semester hours to renew my certificate. A job was waiting. That night in a neighboring room about 30 boys whom I knew held a jam session. I asked about the possibility of obtaining a work-ship, Impossible was the answer. I didn't say anything, but I didn’t believe it, at least not until I tried.
Page 78 - A type-writer is borrowed
I borrowed a type-writer, went to our room, and typed an application for a work-ship. I took the letter and deposited in President's personal mail box. The next morning as I walked through the administration building, I met President Payne. He said he received my letter, but there were no jobs, adding that he was not taking the matter up until 9:30. I walked into his waiting room just about 9:30, and found that about 30 boys were there already, for the same purpose I was there, including room-mate. While I waited my turn several went into the president’s private office, and we watched to see who came out with a small slip of paper in his hand. A few did, including my room-mate. Clinton, you will remember the remark the president made as you entered.
Finally President Payne came to call the next in line, and it was my turn, and I quote the conversation: "Now Ova, what's this about a job?" I told him that I (had) no money, that I needed 4 semester-hours, that I had earned 18 over at the university during the Spring Semester. He replied: " You go over there, spend your money. And come back and ask for a job." To this I replied: "17 + 13 do not equal 32, but that 18 + 14 do equal 32". Then he advised that if I remained through Summer School, and through the Fall Term that I would stand a good chance of getting a job for the next Spring Semester. I said "President Payne, I came down here with five cents in my pocket to get 14 semester hours, and I am not leaving here until I get them. Next year, Next month, next week, or tomorrow would not do, but right now." Then he handed me an assignment slip, saying "this will take care of your meals, but not your room", and looking across the room at a guest, the dean of Berea College, he asked "am I right?" The dean answered in the affirmative. I reported immediately to the cafeteria, and went to work. I was serving ice cream as my friends came through the line at lunch, and asked in whose place I was working. It took a few days to convince them I was working in my own place.
Upon completion of the 32 semester-hours needed I renewed my certificate, and presented same to the Superintendent of Johnson County Schools, who at that time was a fine gentleman by the name of Orville Wheeler, who later became Kentucky State Superintendent of Schools. I then went directly to the John's Creek School, located just above the horse-shoe bend of lower John's Creek, and on the front of the Flat-woods Branch Farm, purchased from Rev. Samuel Hanna, by George Delong, III, and given to his eldest son, William Isaac Delong, my Paternal grandfather.
Below the bend began the Auxier Land, or originally 1500 acres purchased by Samuel Auxier, Sr. and his wife, Sarah Brown. Long since the land had been divided into smaller farms, and owned in 1933 by two of Samuel, Sr.'s G-Grandsons, Henry Auxier, and James Sr. Auxier. This was a community where William Isaac Delong, Sr. and Rebeccah(sic) Alley Delong brought into the world 14 children, eight living beyond three score and ten, and one beyond ninety.
My pupils included children with names like Delong, Wells, Steward, Richmond, Hopson, Hurt and Phelps. Many of the pupils in coming to school took short-cuts across the flat ground, formerly my Grandfather's farm. The father of the Wells pupils was a descendant of George E & Elizabeth Delong Wells, 1806-& 1800 resp'.
Page 79 (3 paragraphs omitted on this page that talked only about the church and those who were pastor or attended the church - non Delongs.)
When I returned to ARMCO, I was first assigned to standing by where I had started before, on call wherever a man was needed, the blast furnace, transfer and labor, dubbed take it, or leave it, the ore shed, the sheet mill, processing, finishing, or shipping. It wasn't long before Chester Strother, foreman, asked that I be transferred to the Finishing Department. After several years in the Finishing Department, during which time I was attending classes at Booth's Business College. A recorder's job opened at the Open Hearth Department. I applied for it, and was accepted. I remained there until the U.S. enter World War, II, at which time I sought employment where I thought I could be most valuable to the war effort.
In the meantime, as mentioned elsewhere, I had met, courted, and married Thelma Lousie Kouns. As before mentioned we were married on her birthday, January 7, 1939, and on August 2, 1940, Larry David was born. March 12, 1942, Gary Joseph was born. Thelma's brother, Alben Barkley Kouns, had completed at the local trade school a course in the machinist trade. He had gone to Bridgeport, Connecticut, found work and wrote for Thelma & I and Katheryn, to join him there, for there was plenty of jobs in defense plants. Gene & Helen went first. They and Alben rented an apartment. I followed, found a job at the Bullard Machine Tool Company, as learner, with Alben as my instructor on a milling machine.
Page 80 - A church is reopened:
The Philadelphia Church of Christ, where the William Isaac, Sr. & Rebeccah Alley Delong Family had worshiped many years before, stood on the bank of John's Creek, about a mile above the school, facing the creek, and overlooking a dirt road no longer used as a new road had been built behind the church. The church had been closed several years before, abandoned several years, had fallen into disrepute, and used for immoral purposes. I mentioned to some of my school patrons that I preferred to teach in a community that had a church. Mrs. Ben Delong took the initiative, talked it up, and came up with a proposition: If the men of the community would reverse the front door and paint the exterior of the church, the women would paint the interior. The objective was accomplished forthwith, and the church was reopened. Rev. Spurgeon Honeycutt, of Auxier, Ky., was called, and accepted the ministry. Sunday school was organized, officers were elected, a choir was organized and the Annual Convention of the Churches of Christ chose Philadelphia Church for their conventions site.
The teacher was very happy professionally, spiritually, and socially. He had found a great personal friend in the person of Jimmie Auxier, Jr., and he was living with the Ben and Sarah Sammons Delong and their big family. Moreover, the convention had been a huge success.
This was a rare opportunity for me to really get acquainted with my father's people, as most of them lived on John's Creek. I spent two wonderful years in what had been Nero, Kentucky, a post-office long since closed. Another job was waiting. I helped to secure the school for my Cousin, Brooksie Webb, and took my leave. Perhaps I should add that the romance developed there which almost, but never quite matured.
The Steel Mill:
My next job was in Ashland, Kentucky at the American Rolling Mill Company, where I had previously worked for eight months between school terms. After getting a job I made plans to bring Moma to Ashland. I rented a modern log house standing on four acres of fertile land, with a stable a brooding house, and two laying houses. Rollie moved Moma and as much livestock as we could handle, which included two cows, three pigs, and 500 chickens. Moma was as happy as anywhere she could have been, other than on Keeton Branch. The junior farm was located at the end of 29th Street, in South Ashland, and Mom's three brothers, and one sister lived within a mile, or so in South Ashland.
Page 81
When I had found work I wrote for Thelma and our two small children to join me, and within a few days they, sisters, Mary Margaret & Kathryn, and two of their friends joined us. All crowded into one apartment while we looked for another. The only thing we could find was a house thirteen miles out in the country, owned by an attorney on President Roosevelt’s dollar-a year brain trust.
(the rest of this page really does not tell much, except stories about his work, such as the fact he broke a $75.00 cutter and got demoted and they found bed bugs in their rented apartment! After the bedbug incident they moved to Lexington, Kentucky where he worked a few weeks on a farm. From there he went to Louisville and applied for a job at Curtis-Wright’ Agency. /editor)
Page 82
I was hired, and assigned to a group of thirty men being sent to St. Louis, Mo. To be trained as a nucleus for a new plant then under construction in Louisville. The following Monday I went to St. Louis. After three weeks of intense training in the Curtis-Wright St Louis Plant, located under ground twenty mile out of St. Louis we returned to Louisville and opened the plant, though the ends of the building were still open. A few months later the pressure became very great for the delivery of more planes, though shortages of certain parts were holding us up. It culminated in our superintendent getting fired, and all the men who had gone to St. Louis with him picked up their tools and followed, each man going his own way. After a few interim jobs I ended up as tool-maker at Convair, a merger of Consolidated and Vultee Aircraft.
One of my interim jobs had been machinist & tool-maker at Reynolds Metals. The popular personnel Manager, Mr. Sullivan, took the entire machine shop crew, and transferred to Convair, a fine company, but the men didn't trust Mr. Sullivan's superior. Labor troubles developed, and a strike was called. I told Mr. Sullivan of this miss-trust and he told me that his superior would be out of town for the next week, leaving him in full charge. I told the men they could believe anything Mr. Sullivan told them. Mr. Sullivan met with us, and the strike was called off that very night.
My years at Convair were interesting, and challenging. We made dies without prints, and did our own heat-treating. Then the war began to wind down and RIFT notices were being passed out with options of transferring to other company plants, either one at Oakridge, Tennessee, and one at San Francisco Naval Shipyard. I walked across the room, telephoned the paper and placed an ad. The next day I went down town, and signed up with the U.S. Navy to come to San Francisco. (I'm leaving out a few lines here that of no importance /editor)
The Navy put us up overnight at Middle Point; then the next moved us to Richmond from where we commuted for three weeks until housing was available at Hunters Point. As soon as a baby-sitter was found Thelma also went to work at the yard, as a business machine operator.
When the war ended RIFT notices again were passed out, and I received one on Friday. When I got home I saw in the paper that school teachers were needed. I rushed down to the school superintendent's office, was told that if I could put a California credential on his desk by 2:00 p.m. on Saturday I could begin teaching the following Monday. Thelma and I made a rush trip to Sacramento, acquired the needed certificate, and had at 20 minutes of 2:00 P.M. Saturday placed it on the superintendent's desk. I went to teaching the following Monday.
Page 83 - Ova Oakland Delong & Thelma Louise Kouns
Thelma was born 7 January 1918 in Frankfort, Kentucky near the Old Capitol on Holmes Street, to John L. Kouns and Dora McNeal.
Thelma was educated in the Ashland Schools, and it was on the occasion of her graduation that her future husband, whom she had never met, and who had come to witness the graduation of his cousin, the late highly honored Dr. Benjamin Loyd Brown of Washington, D.C. Thelma began her career in Ashland, as secretary in small offices at first, and later as operator of business machines at Bituminous Coal Commission. Thelma was on a diving exhibition. They were married the following year, on Thelma's birthday, 7 January, 1939 in Grayson, Kentucky. Thelma followed her career in Ashland, in Louisville, and finally in the San Francisco Naval Shipyard from which she retired in January 1968.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Their children:
1. Larry David - born 2 August 1940 Ashland, Boyd County, KY.
2. Gary Joseph - born 12 March 1942 Ashland, Boyd County, KY
3. Darlene - born 1 January 1946 San Francisco, CA. Born with a brain tumor; lived 10 weeks, died March 13, 1946; buried Cypress Lawn Cemetery, Colma, California.
4. Sharon Louise - born 9 November 1947 - probably born in California, since he says she went to school there, but does not give location of birth.
5. Samuel J. - born 27 January 1949.
"Auxier-DeLong - Brown - Allied Families" by Ova O. DeLong - Page 71-88
THE AUTHOR: OVA OAKLAND & THELMA LOUISE (KOUNS) DELONG:
The writer was born 18 January 1912 at Matthew, Morgan County, Kentucky to parents: Thomas Jefferson, "T.J." DeLong & Sarah Magdalene "Maggie" Brown. He was the tenth of eleven children. He grew up with and was tutored by sisters: Vergie and Vernie; brothers: Cletis, Rollie, Estill and Brownie, having lost: twin brothers: Jimmie and Willie who died young, sister Bertie Mae who was taken by Diphtheria, and one brother, still-born, and unnamed. Ova grew upon and called home for twenty-five years his parent's farm on Keeton, once called Maiden Branch., not far from Licking River, but above flood level. T. J. had purchased three parcels of land which together composed the one-hundred-fifteen (acre) farm, mostly hill, but enough bottom for truck and buildings. Eventially(sic) three of my brothers, and a brother-in-law purchased the remainder of the water-shed, and allowed Popa to use the additional land as he chose. By the time I reached mid-teens my brothers had left home in search of more profitable employment. For several years four and two brother-in-law worked in the coal mines. I never did work in the mines, but did consider it a great privilege: on one occasion to attend school for one term in Hardburley and live with Brother Cletis and his wife Vada; and on another occasion: to attend school for one term at Sitka, Johnson County, Kentucky, on Toms Creek, and live with Sister Vernie, and her husband, Rance Stambaugh. Rance worked in the coal mines, and farmed on the side. I think I was a help to them also, and they pampered me a lot. I would take on of the Estepp boys with me, and drive Rance's mule team to Paintsville for supplies. School at Sitka was a real pleasure. Lionel Sublett was teacher of the one room school, and we students loved him very much. He had been a football star at Mayo College, and he taught us eighth-graders a watered down version of football. Our Christmas play was a huge success, and upon my graduation I made many friends, both in and out of school.
The school was out one week earlier than my home school at Rockhouse. I came home just in time to take the test and qualify for a second diploma.
(the next paragraph is a repeat of an earlier story and thus omitted from this bio. /editor)
PAGE 72
I was taught farm chores at an early age, and was sent to school at age of seven. Popa was a skilled teamster and taught us how to care for, how to train, horses, mules, and cattle, and to handle successfully each, and any combination.
Life on that little farm was a happy one. There wasn't much money, but we didn't need much money. We grew just about everything we ate. When we went to the store we took some chickens, eggs or whatever Popa sold tanning bark so long as chestnut oaks lasted. Then he would select trees just the right size, saw to the right length for rail-road ties, score them with a very sharp double-bit ax, and hew them square, and to size. My memory tells me that specifications were: 7X(X9 feet long. We boys hauled, and helped. Rollie and I enjoyed teaming most. The three other brothers could take it, or leave it. Popa used a "broad Ax" to hew. I thought he could stick a sharp ax deeper into an oak log than anyone, and I marveled at the smoothe(sic) and accurate job he did with his "Broad Ax". I think I enjoyed most taking a load rail-road ties to Wells Station on the C & O Rail-road. Henry Franklin kept a general store there, and we would buy a coke, and some cheese and crackers, and we had a good lunch. Mr. Franklin had three sons, and the youngest as my age, and we became life-long friends. When the order was filled I didn’t see him again until I began hauling barrel staves from the Leander Elam Stave Mill on Big Branch, sometimes called Griffitts Branch. This was real exciting. By this time I was in my early teens, and thre girls whom I often saw on Sunday at the Whitoak(sic) Christian Church lived on May Branch. Lurlene Smallwood lived with her widowed mother and grandparents near the mouth of the branch, and the McGraws lived about half way up the branch. It seemed they always just seemed to be in plain view as I passed. McGraw's house and front yard sat about eight, or ten feet above the branch, and the road was a one-way wagon road mid-distance between the two. On one occasion my wagon, the third of six wagons, all loaded with staves, struck a rock which had been dislodged by the wagon in front of mine which threw my wagon over on its side in the branch. The three wagons behind me stopped. One of the drivers behind me, a good driver, actually a distant cousin, but I didn't (sic know) that at the time, asked: "Why doesn't Jeff Delong put a man to driving that team?" No one said a word as I took a utility chain, run it around the coupling pole, snatched the hook over the chain, brought the chain up and over the wagon load of staves, unhooked my leaders from the end of the wagon tongue, hooked them to the end of the chain up on Ed McGraw’s front yard, gave the mules, which I called Beck & Pearl, the word, and without a moment’s hesitation they snapped that wagon load of barrel staves over onto four wheels. I replaced the leaders to the end of the wagon tongue, and everyone proceeded to Wells Station. The two older men, driving the last two wagons, stared at each other silently. The young driver, only a few years older than I said not a word. Not a stave fell off my wagon. After the stave was finished I didn’t see my friend, Walter franklin, for quite a while, but our paths did cross a few years later. That’s another story
Page 73
AT the age of fifteen I wanted to go to high school, but the nearest high school was in West-Liberty, ten miles down the river. As luck would have it Brother Rollie, and his good wife Flossie said I could live with them, then living in Rosemont Gardens, Lexington, Ky. To get there I walked eighteen miles to Wrigley, caught a passenger vehicle, called the Blue Goose, on the Morehead-Northfork Railroad, transferred to the L&N at Morehead and sometime that night I arrived, and was met by Brother Rollie in Lexington, which appeared to me to be a might big city. Rollie and Flossie had only been living in Lexington about a year, I think. When schools opened Flossie and Rollie took me to Picadome High and enrolled and introduced me to Miss Cummings with whom I enjoyed a mutual affection. That was a happy year for me, in school and out of school. Rollie was employed by the Turner Family, and the Turners and the Delongs became great friends. Two of Flossie’s brothers, life-long friends of mine, also lived there and worked for the Turners. There was also plenty work available for me when I was out of school.
(the next two paragraphs have information about Flossie's family and a Mr. Smith, not material to this bio. /editor)
Page 74 - blank
Page 75
(First paragraph about the Morehead Normal School President and staff was not copied. /editor)
After two years and armed with a Provisional Elementary Certificate I opened on July 5, 1929 my first school at Rockhouse School at Matthew, Morgan County, Kentucky, my home school.
The elementary school term was from July to January. The holders of provisional certificates were required to return to school, which by this time added the name college, and earn a specified number of semester hours of credit and renew their certificates before they could return to teaching. Most of my pupils had grown up with me, neighbors, cousins, and friends.
Other young people in the community were doing the same thing as I was doing. The home school had to be passed around. Orpha McGuire, my second cousin, had been my teacher, and later at college my fellow student and friend. Ruby Kennard, another second cousin, preceded me, and another second cousin, Ottis McGuire, followed me. I came back later to teach the home school, but in the mean time I taught three years at Donahue School, located among the cliffs of Licking River, and across the mountain from the Paragon Post Office, which is located on the North Fork of Licking River. These were all happy years. I was still in my teens, and some of my pupils were my own age. In education we were dedicated, and socially we were friends.
(the rest of page 75 discusses people he worked with and his leaving Donahue School and has no mention of anything that needs to be added to this bio. /editor)
Page 76 - blank
Page 77 - Popa dies:
Instead of returning to Morehead College for the 1933 Spring Semester, where 17 semester hours as the maximum load a student was allowed to carry, I enrolled at the University of Kentucky, where 18 semester hours was the maximum one was allowed to carry during Spring Semester. There in class one day during the last week of March, I received a telegram advising me that Popa had been seriously injured by a log that he was hauling off the hill. Brother Rollie had left early that morning for Louisville with a truck load of household furnishings for our neighbors, the O'Neal(s). We made a call to his destination, and left a message advising him of Popa's accident, and to rush home as soon as possible.
As soon as possible after his return we jumped into my 1931 Ford, with Rollie at the wheel, and rushed home, averaging a little more than 60 mph, about all the car would make.
Dr. Murray was treating Popa, and within a few days the pneumonia which Popa had contracted from the internal injuries incurred in the accident had improved, though Popa was very weak. Rollie and I, thinking that Popa was going to be ok, returned to Lexington. However, in about a week we were again called home. The pneumonia had spread to Pop's other lung, and Popa was too weak to overcome it. Dr. Murray came, and our beloved cousin, Kennie Brown, came. We all worked until the last breath but to no avail. The end came at 1:10 A.M. April 10, 1933.
Rev, Harlan Murphy and Rev. K. C. Bolin officiated at Popa's funeral, with burial at the Brown Cemetery near by on Rockhouse Creek. Popa was preceded in death by twins, Jim and Willie, Bertie May, and one male child un-named.
I returned to the university and successful completed the 8 semester hours, but to renew my certificate 32 semester hours were required. There was ten days until Summer School opened.
Sister Vernie and husband Rance Stambaugh, and children had moved in with Moma. A crop had to be planted, or there would be no feed for the livestock the following winter and there was one more problem: Popa had borrowed money promising to pay off the note when he sold the livestock. The first of June was no time to sell livestock. I made a quick decision: I sold my car, and went to the bank and redeemed Popa's note.
WE prepared the ground and planted the crop in time and on June 10, with five cents my pocket I was hitch-hiking my way to Morehead College. Three hitches; a one-hour nap at noon-time, did the trick, and I arrived about six o’clock. My old buddy, Clinton McGuire had made reservation for me to share his room.
Things were looking pretty good. Whereas the university allowed a maximum of 13 semester hours to be carried during the ten-week Summer Session, Morehead allowed 14, and I needed 32 semester hours to renew my certificate. A job was waiting. That night in a neighboring room about 30 boys whom I knew held a jam session. I asked about the possibility of obtaining a work-ship, Impossible was the answer. I didn't say anything, but I didn’t believe it, at least not until I tried.
Page 78 - A type-writer is borrowed
I borrowed a type-writer, went to our room, and typed an application for a work-ship. I took the letter and deposited in President's personal mail box. The next morning as I walked through the administration building, I met President Payne. He said he received my letter, but there were no jobs, adding that he was not taking the matter up until 9:30. I walked into his waiting room just about 9:30, and found that about 30 boys were there already, for the same purpose I was there, including room-mate. While I waited my turn several went into the president’s private office, and we watched to see who came out with a small slip of paper in his hand. A few did, including my room-mate. Clinton, you will remember the remark the president made as you entered.
Finally President Payne came to call the next in line, and it was my turn, and I quote the conversation: "Now Ova, what's this about a job?" I told him that I (had) no money, that I needed 4 semester-hours, that I had earned 18 over at the university during the Spring Semester. He replied: " You go over there, spend your money. And come back and ask for a job." To this I replied: "17 + 13 do not equal 32, but that 18 + 14 do equal 32". Then he advised that if I remained through Summer School, and through the Fall Term that I would stand a good chance of getting a job for the next Spring Semester. I said "President Payne, I came down here with five cents in my pocket to get 14 semester hours, and I am not leaving here until I get them. Next year, Next month, next week, or tomorrow would not do, but right now." Then he handed me an assignment slip, saying "this will take care of your meals, but not your room", and looking across the room at a guest, the dean of Berea College, he asked "am I right?" The dean answered in the affirmative. I reported immediately to the cafeteria, and went to work. I was serving ice cream as my friends came through the line at lunch, and asked in whose place I was working. It took a few days to convince them I was working in my own place.
Upon completion of the 32 semester-hours needed I renewed my certificate, and presented same to the Superintendent of Johnson County Schools, who at that time was a fine gentleman by the name of Orville Wheeler, who later became Kentucky State Superintendent of Schools. I then went directly to the John's Creek School, located just above the horse-shoe bend of lower John's Creek, and on the front of the Flat-woods Branch Farm, purchased from Rev. Samuel Hanna, by George Delong, III, and given to his eldest son, William Isaac Delong, my Paternal grandfather.
Below the bend began the Auxier Land, or originally 1500 acres purchased by Samuel Auxier, Sr. and his wife, Sarah Brown. Long since the land had been divided into smaller farms, and owned in 1933 by two of Samuel, Sr.'s G-Grandsons, Henry Auxier, and James Sr. Auxier. This was a community where William Isaac Delong, Sr. and Rebeccah(sic) Alley Delong brought into the world 14 children, eight living beyond three score and ten, and one beyond ninety.
My pupils included children with names like Delong, Wells, Steward, Richmond, Hopson, Hurt and Phelps. Many of the pupils in coming to school took short-cuts across the flat ground, formerly my Grandfather's farm. The father of the Wells pupils was a descendant of George E & Elizabeth Delong Wells, 1806-& 1800 resp'.
Page 79 (3 paragraphs omitted on this page that talked only about the church and those who were pastor or attended the church - non Delongs.)
When I returned to ARMCO, I was first assigned to standing by where I had started before, on call wherever a man was needed, the blast furnace, transfer and labor, dubbed take it, or leave it, the ore shed, the sheet mill, processing, finishing, or shipping. It wasn't long before Chester Strother, foreman, asked that I be transferred to the Finishing Department. After several years in the Finishing Department, during which time I was attending classes at Booth's Business College. A recorder's job opened at the Open Hearth Department. I applied for it, and was accepted. I remained there until the U.S. enter World War, II, at which time I sought employment where I thought I could be most valuable to the war effort.
In the meantime, as mentioned elsewhere, I had met, courted, and married Thelma Lousie Kouns. As before mentioned we were married on her birthday, January 7, 1939, and on August 2, 1940, Larry David was born. March 12, 1942, Gary Joseph was born. Thelma's brother, Alben Barkley Kouns, had completed at the local trade school a course in the machinist trade. He had gone to Bridgeport, Connecticut, found work and wrote for Thelma & I and Katheryn, to join him there, for there was plenty of jobs in defense plants. Gene & Helen went first. They and Alben rented an apartment. I followed, found a job at the Bullard Machine Tool Company, as learner, with Alben as my instructor on a milling machine.
Page 80 - A church is reopened:
The Philadelphia Church of Christ, where the William Isaac, Sr. & Rebeccah Alley Delong Family had worshiped many years before, stood on the bank of John's Creek, about a mile above the school, facing the creek, and overlooking a dirt road no longer used as a new road had been built behind the church. The church had been closed several years before, abandoned several years, had fallen into disrepute, and used for immoral purposes. I mentioned to some of my school patrons that I preferred to teach in a community that had a church. Mrs. Ben Delong took the initiative, talked it up, and came up with a proposition: If the men of the community would reverse the front door and paint the exterior of the church, the women would paint the interior. The objective was accomplished forthwith, and the church was reopened. Rev. Spurgeon Honeycutt, of Auxier, Ky., was called, and accepted the ministry. Sunday school was organized, officers were elected, a choir was organized and the Annual Convention of the Churches of Christ chose Philadelphia Church for their conventions site.
The teacher was very happy professionally, spiritually, and socially. He had found a great personal friend in the person of Jimmie Auxier, Jr., and he was living with the Ben and Sarah Sammons Delong and their big family. Moreover, the convention had been a huge success.
This was a rare opportunity for me to really get acquainted with my father's people, as most of them lived on John's Creek. I spent two wonderful years in what had been Nero, Kentucky, a post-office long since closed. Another job was waiting. I helped to secure the school for my Cousin, Brooksie Webb, and took my leave. Perhaps I should add that the romance developed there which almost, but never quite matured.
The Steel Mill:
My next job was in Ashland, Kentucky at the American Rolling Mill Company, where I had previously worked for eight months between school terms. After getting a job I made plans to bring Moma to Ashland. I rented a modern log house standing on four acres of fertile land, with a stable a brooding house, and two laying houses. Rollie moved Moma and as much livestock as we could handle, which included two cows, three pigs, and 500 chickens. Moma was as happy as anywhere she could have been, other than on Keeton Branch. The junior farm was located at the end of 29th Street, in South Ashland, and Mom's three brothers, and one sister lived within a mile, or so in South Ashland.
Page 81
When I had found work I wrote for Thelma and our two small children to join me, and within a few days they, sisters, Mary Margaret & Kathryn, and two of their friends joined us. All crowded into one apartment while we looked for another. The only thing we could find was a house thirteen miles out in the country, owned by an attorney on President Roosevelt’s dollar-a year brain trust.
(the rest of this page really does not tell much, except stories about his work, such as the fact he broke a $75.00 cutter and got demoted and they found bed bugs in their rented apartment! After the bedbug incident they moved to Lexington, Kentucky where he worked a few weeks on a farm. From there he went to Louisville and applied for a job at Curtis-Wright’ Agency. /editor)
Page 82
I was hired, and assigned to a group of thirty men being sent to St. Louis, Mo. To be trained as a nucleus for a new plant then under construction in Louisville. The following Monday I went to St. Louis. After three weeks of intense training in the Curtis-Wright St Louis Plant, located under ground twenty mile out of St. Louis we returned to Louisville and opened the plant, though the ends of the building were still open. A few months later the pressure became very great for the delivery of more planes, though shortages of certain parts were holding us up. It culminated in our superintendent getting fired, and all the men who had gone to St. Louis with him picked up their tools and followed, each man going his own way. After a few interim jobs I ended up as tool-maker at Convair, a merger of Consolidated and Vultee Aircraft.
One of my interim jobs had been machinist & tool-maker at Reynolds Metals. The popular personnel Manager, Mr. Sullivan, took the entire machine shop crew, and transferred to Convair, a fine company, but the men didn't trust Mr. Sullivan's superior. Labor troubles developed, and a strike was called. I told Mr. Sullivan of this miss-trust and he told me that his superior would be out of town for the next week, leaving him in full charge. I told the men they could believe anything Mr. Sullivan told them. Mr. Sullivan met with us, and the strike was called off that very night.
My years at Convair were interesting, and challenging. We made dies without prints, and did our own heat-treating. Then the war began to wind down and RIFT notices were being passed out with options of transferring to other company plants, either one at Oakridge, Tennessee, and one at San Francisco Naval Shipyard. I walked across the room, telephoned the paper and placed an ad. The next day I went down town, and signed up with the U.S. Navy to come to San Francisco. (I'm leaving out a few lines here that of no importance /editor)
The Navy put us up overnight at Middle Point; then the next moved us to Richmond from where we commuted for three weeks until housing was available at Hunters Point. As soon as a baby-sitter was found Thelma also went to work at the yard, as a business machine operator.
When the war ended RIFT notices again were passed out, and I received one on Friday. When I got home I saw in the paper that school teachers were needed. I rushed down to the school superintendent's office, was told that if I could put a California credential on his desk by 2:00 p.m. on Saturday I could begin teaching the following Monday. Thelma and I made a rush trip to Sacramento, acquired the needed certificate, and had at 20 minutes of 2:00 P.M. Saturday placed it on the superintendent's desk. I went to teaching the following Monday.
Page 83 - Ova Oakland Delong & Thelma Louise Kouns
Thelma was born 7 January 1918 in Frankfort, Kentucky near the Old Capitol on Holmes Street, to John L. Kouns and Dora McNeal.
Thelma was educated in the Ashland Schools, and it was on the occasion of her graduation that her future husband, whom she had never met, and who had come to witness the graduation of his cousin, the late highly honored Dr. Benjamin Loyd Brown of Washington, D.C. Thelma began her career in Ashland, as secretary in small offices at first, and later as operator of business machines at Bituminous Coal Commission. Thelma was on a diving exhibition. They were married the following year, on Thelma's birthday, 7 January, 1939 in Grayson, Kentucky. Thelma followed her career in Ashland, in Louisville, and finally in the San Francisco Naval Shipyard from which she retired in January 1968.
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Their children:
1. Larry David - born 2 August 1940 Ashland, Boyd County, KY.
2. Gary Joseph - born 12 March 1942 Ashland, Boyd County, KY
3. Darlene - born 1 January 1946 San Francisco, CA. Born with a brain tumor; lived 10 weeks, died March 13, 1946; buried Cypress Lawn Cemetery, Colma, California.
4. Sharon Louise - born 9 November 1947 - probably born in California, since he says she went to school there, but does not give location of birth.
5. Samuel J. - born 27 January 1949.
THE AUTHOR: OVA OAKLAND & THELMA LOUISE (KOUNS) DELONG:
The writer was born 18 January 1912 at Matthew, Morgan County, Kentucky to parents: Thomas Jefferson, "T.J." DeLong & Sarah Magdalene "Maggie" Brown. He was the tenth of eleven children. He grew up with and was tutored by sisters: Vergie and Vernie; brothers: Cletis, Rollie, Estill and Brownie, having lost: twin brothers: Jimmie and Willie who died young, sister Bertie Mae who was taken by Diphtheria, and one brother, still-born, and unnamed. Ova grew upon and called home for twenty-five years his parent's farm on Keeton, once called Maiden Branch., not far from Licking River, but above flood level. T. J. had purchased three parcels of land which together composed the one-hundred-fifteen (acre) farm, mostly hill, but enough bottom for truck and buildings. Eventially(sic) three of my brothers, and a brother-in-law purchased the remainder of the water-shed, and allowed Popa to use the additional land as he chose. By the time I reached mid-teens my brothers had left home in search of more profitable employment. For several years four and two brother-in-law worked in the coal mines. I never did work in the mines, but did consider it a great privilege: on one occasion to attend school for one term in Hardburley and live with Brother Cletis and his wife Vada; and on another occasion: to attend school for one term at Sitka, Johnson County, Kentucky, on Toms Creek, and live with Sister Vernie, and her husband, Rance Stambaugh. Rance worked in the coal mines, and farmed on the side. I think I was a help to them also, and they pampered me a lot. I would take on of the Estepp boys with me, and drive Rance's mule team to Paintsville for supplies. School at Sitka was a real pleasure. Lionel Sublett was teacher of the one room school, and we students loved him very much. He had been a football star at Mayo College, and he taught us eighth-graders a watered down version of football. Our Christmas play was a huge success, and upon my graduation I made many friends, both in and out of school.
The school was out one week earlier than my home school at Rockhouse. I came home just in time to take the test and qualify for a second diploma.
(the next paragraph is a repeat of an earlier story and thus omitted from this bio. /editor)
PAGE 72
I was taught farm chores at an early age, and was sent to school at age of seven. Popa was a skilled teamster and taught us how to care for, how to train, horses, mules, and cattle, and to handle successfully each, and any combination.
Life on that little farm was a happy one. There wasn't much money, but we didn't need much money. We grew just about everything we ate. When we went to the store we took some chickens, eggs or whatever Popa sold tanning bark so long as chestnut oaks lasted. Then he would select trees just the right size, saw to the right length for rail-road ties, score them with a very sharp double-bit ax, and hew them square, and to size. My memory tells me that specifications were: 7X(X9 feet long. We boys hauled, and helped. Rollie and I enjoyed teaming most. The three other brothers could take it, or leave it. Popa used a "broad Ax" to hew. I thought he could stick a sharp ax deeper into an oak log than anyone, and I marveled at the smoothe(sic) and accurate job he did with his "Broad Ax". I think I enjoyed most taking a load rail-road ties to Wells Station on the C & O Rail-road. Henry Franklin kept a general store there, and we would buy a coke, and some cheese and crackers, and we had a good lunch. Mr. Franklin had three sons, and the youngest as my age, and we became life-long friends. When the order was filled I didn’t see him again until I began hauling barrel staves from the Leander Elam Stave Mill on Big Branch, sometimes called Griffitts Branch. This was real exciting. By this time I was in my early teens, and thre girls whom I often saw on Sunday at the Whitoak(sic) Christian Church lived on May Branch. Lurlene Smallwood lived with her widowed mother and grandparents near the mouth of the branch, and the McGraws lived about half way up the branch. It seemed they always just seemed to be in plain view as I passed. McGraw's house and front yard sat about eight, or ten feet above the branch, and the road was a one-way wagon road mid-distance between the two. On one occasion my wagon, the third of six wagons, all loaded with staves, struck a rock which had been dislodged by the wagon in front of mine which threw my wagon over on its side in the branch. The three wagons behind me stopped. One of the drivers behind me, a good driver, actually a distant cousin, but I didn't (sic know) that at the time, asked: "Why doesn't Jeff Delong put a man to driving that team?" No one said a word as I took a utility chain, run it around the coupling pole, snatched the hook over the chain, brought the chain up and over the wagon load of staves, unhooked my leaders from the end of the wagon tongue, hooked them to the end of the chain up on Ed McGraw’s front yard, gave the mules, which I called Beck & Pearl, the word, and without a moment’s hesitation they snapped that wagon load of barrel staves over onto four wheels. I replaced the leaders to the end of the wagon tongue, and everyone proceeded to Wells Station. The two older men, driving the last two wagons, stared at each other silently. The young driver, only a few years older than I said not a word. Not a stave fell off my wagon. After the stave was finished I didn’t see my friend, Walter franklin, for quite a while, but our paths did cross a few years later. That’s another story
Page 73
AT the age of fifteen I wanted to go to high school, but the nearest high school was in West-Liberty, ten miles down the river. As luck would have it Brother Rollie, and his good wife Flossie said I could live with them, then living in Rosemont Gardens, Lexington, Ky. To get there I walked eighteen miles to Wrigley, caught a passenger vehicle, called the Blue Goose, on the Morehead-Northfork Railroad, transferred to the L&N at Morehead and sometime that night I arrived, and was met by Brother Rollie in Lexington, which appeared to me to be a might big city. Rollie and Flossie had only been living in Lexington about a year, I think. When schools opened Flossie and Rollie took me to Picadome High and enrolled and introduced me to Miss Cummings with whom I enjoyed a mutual affection. That was a happy year for me, in school and out of school. Rollie was employed by the Turner Family, and the Turners and the Delongs became great friends. Two of Flossie’s brothers, life-long friends of mine, also lived there and worked for the Turners. There was also plenty work available for me when I was out of school.
(the next two paragraphs have information about Flossie's family and a Mr. Smith, not material to this bio. /editor)
Page 74 - blank
Page 75
(First paragraph about the Morehead Normal School President and staff was not copied. /editor)
After two years and armed with a Provisional Elementary Certificate I opened on July 5, 1929 my first school at Rockhouse School at Matthew, Morgan County, Kentucky, my home school.
The elementary school term was from July to January. The holders of provisional certificates were required to return to school, which by this time added the name college, and earn a specified number of semester hours of credit and renew their certificates before they could return to teaching. Most of my pupils had grown up with me, neighbors, cousins, and friends.
Other young people in the community were doing the same thing as I was doing. The home school had to be passed around. Orpha McGuire, my second cousin, had been my teacher, and later at college my fellow student and friend. Ruby Kennard, another second cousin, preceded me, and another second cousin, Ottis McGuire, followed me. I came back later to teach the home school, but in the mean time I taught three years at Donahue School, located among the cliffs of Licking River, and across the mountain from the Paragon Post Office, which is located on the North Fork of Licking River. These were all happy years. I was still in my teens, and some of my pupils were my own age. In education we were dedicated, and socially we were friends.
(the rest of page 75 discusses people he worked with and his leaving Donahue School and has no mention of anything that needs to be added to this bio. /editor)
Page 76 - blank
Page 77 - Popa dies:
Instead of returning to Morehead College for the 1933 Spring Semester, where 17 semester hours as the maximum load a student was allowed to carry, I enrolled at the University of Kentucky, where 18 semester hours was the maximum one was allowed to carry during Spring Semester. There in class one day during the last week of March, I received a telegram advising me that Popa had been seriously injured by a log that he was hauling off the hill. Brother Rollie had left early that morning for Louisville with a truck load of household furnishings for our neighbors, the O'Neal(s). We made a call to his destination, and left a message advising him of Popa's accident, and to rush home as soon as possible.
As soon as possible after his return we jumped into my 1931 Ford, with Rollie at the wheel, and rushed home, averaging a little more than 60 mph, about all the car would make.
Dr. Murray was treating Popa, and within a few days the pneumonia which Popa had contracted from the internal injuries incurred in the accident had improved, though Popa was very weak. Rollie and I, thinking that Popa was going to be ok, returned to Lexington. However, in about a week we were again called home. The pneumonia had spread to Pop's other lung, and Popa was too weak to overcome it. Dr. Murray came, and our beloved cousin, Kennie Brown, came. We all worked until the last breath but to no avail. The end came at 1:10 A.M. April 10, 1933.
Rev, Harlan Murphy and Rev. K. C. Bolin officiated at Popa's funeral, with burial at the Brown Cemetery near by on Rockhouse Creek. Popa was preceded in death by twins, Jim and Willie, Bertie May, and one male child un-named.
I returned to the university and successful completed the 8 semester hours, but to renew my certificate 32 semester hours were required. There was ten days until Summer School opened.
Sister Vernie and husband Rance Stambaugh, and children had moved in with Moma. A crop had to be planted, or there would be no feed for the livestock the following winter and there was one more problem: Popa had borrowed money promising to pay off the note when he sold the livestock. The first of June was no time to sell livestock. I made a quick decision: I sold my car, and went to the bank and redeemed Popa's note.
WE prepared the ground and planted the crop in time and on June 10, with five cents my pocket I was hitch-hiking my way to Morehead College. Three hitches; a one-hour nap at noon-time, did the trick, and I arrived about six o’clock. My old buddy, Clinton McGuire had made reservation for me to share his room.
Things were looking pretty good. Whereas the university allowed a maximum of 13 semester hours to be carried during the ten-week Summer Session, Morehead allowed 14, and I needed 32 semester hours to renew my certificate. A job was waiting. That night in a neighboring room about 30 boys whom I knew held a jam session. I asked about the possibility of obtaining a work-ship, Impossible was the answer. I didn't say anything, but I didn’t believe it, at least not until I tried.
Page 78 - A type-writer is borrowed
I borrowed a type-writer, went to our room, and typed an application for a work-ship. I took the letter and deposited in President's personal mail box. The next morning as I walked through the administration building, I met President Payne. He said he received my letter, but there were no jobs, adding that he was not taking the matter up until 9:30. I walked into his waiting room just about 9:30, and found that about 30 boys were there already, for the same purpose I was there, including room-mate. While I waited my turn several went into the president’s private office, and we watched to see who came out with a small slip of paper in his hand. A few did, including my room-mate. Clinton, you will remember the remark the president made as you entered.
Finally President Payne came to call the next in line, and it was my turn, and I quote the conversation: "Now Ova, what's this about a job?" I told him that I (had) no money, that I needed 4 semester-hours, that I had earned 18 over at the university during the Spring Semester. He replied: " You go over there, spend your money. And come back and ask for a job." To this I replied: "17 + 13 do not equal 32, but that 18 + 14 do equal 32". Then he advised that if I remained through Summer School, and through the Fall Term that I would stand a good chance of getting a job for the next Spring Semester. I said "President Payne, I came down here with five cents in my pocket to get 14 semester hours, and I am not leaving here until I get them. Next year, Next month, next week, or tomorrow would not do, but right now." Then he handed me an assignment slip, saying "this will take care of your meals, but not your room", and looking across the room at a guest, the dean of Berea College, he asked "am I right?" The dean answered in the affirmative. I reported immediately to the cafeteria, and went to work. I was serving ice cream as my friends came through the line at lunch, and asked in whose place I was working. It took a few days to convince them I was working in my own place.
Upon completion of the 32 semester-hours needed I renewed my certificate, and presented same to the Superintendent of Johnson County Schools, who at that time was a fine gentleman by the name of Orville Wheeler, who later became Kentucky State Superintendent of Schools. I then went directly to the John's Creek School, located just above the horse-shoe bend of lower John's Creek, and on the front of the Flat-woods Branch Farm, purchased from Rev. Samuel Hanna, by George Delong, III, and given to his eldest son, William Isaac Delong, my Paternal grandfather.
Below the bend began the Auxier Land, or originally 1500 acres purchased by Samuel Auxier, Sr. and his wife, Sarah Brown. Long since the land had been divided into smaller farms, and owned in 1933 by two of Samuel, Sr.'s G-Grandsons, Henry Auxier, and James Sr. Auxier. This was a community where William Isaac Delong, Sr. and Rebeccah(sic) Alley Delong brought into the world 14 children, eight living beyond three score and ten, and one beyond ninety.
My pupils included children with names like Delong, Wells, Steward, Richmond, Hopson, Hurt and Phelps. Many of the pupils in coming to school took short-cuts across the flat ground, formerly my Grandfather's farm. The father of the Wells pupils was a descendant of George E & Elizabeth Delong Wells, 1806-& 1800 resp'.
Page 79 (3 paragraphs omitted on this page that talked only about the church and those who were pastor or attended the church - non Delongs.)
When I returned to ARMCO, I was first assigned to standing by where I had started before, on call wherever a man was needed, the blast furnace, transfer and labor, dubbed take it, or leave it, the ore shed, the sheet mill, processing, finishing, or shipping. It wasn't long before Chester Strother, foreman, asked that I be transferred to the Finishing Department. After several years in the Finishing Department, during which time I was attending classes at Booth's Business College. A recorder's job opened at the Open Hearth Department. I applied for it, and was accepted. I remained there until the U.S. enter World War, II, at which time I sought employment where I thought I could be most valuable to the war effort.
In the meantime, as mentioned elsewhere, I had met, courted, and married Thelma Lousie Kouns. As before mentioned we were married on her birthday, January 7, 1939, and on August 2, 1940, Larry David was born. March 12, 1942, Gary Joseph was born. Thelma's brother, Alben Barkley Kouns, had completed at the local trade school a course in the machinist trade. He had gone to Bridgeport, Connecticut, found work and wrote for Thelma & I and Katheryn, to join him there, for there was plenty of jobs in defense plants. Gene & Helen went first. They and Alben rented an apartment. I followed, found a job at the Bullard Machine Tool Company, as learner, with Alben as my instructor on a milling machine.
Page 80 - A church is reopened:
The Philadelphia Church of Christ, where the William Isaac, Sr. & Rebeccah Alley Delong Family had worshiped many years before, stood on the bank of John's Creek, about a mile above the school, facing the creek, and overlooking a dirt road no longer used as a new road had been built behind the church. The church had been closed several years before, abandoned several years, had fallen into disrepute, and used for immoral purposes. I mentioned to some of my school patrons that I preferred to teach in a community that had a church. Mrs. Ben Delong took the initiative, talked it up, and came up with a proposition: If the men of the community would reverse the front door and paint the exterior of the church, the women would paint the interior. The objective was accomplished forthwith, and the church was reopened. Rev. Spurgeon Honeycutt, of Auxier, Ky., was called, and accepted the ministry. Sunday school was organized, officers were elected, a choir was organized and the Annual Convention of the Churches of Christ chose Philadelphia Church for their conventions site.
The teacher was very happy professionally, spiritually, and socially. He had found a great personal friend in the person of Jimmie Auxier, Jr., and he was living with the Ben and Sarah Sammons Delong and their big family. Moreover, the convention had been a huge success.
This was a rare opportunity for me to really get acquainted with my father's people, as most of them lived on John's Creek. I spent two wonderful years in what had been Nero, Kentucky, a post-office long since closed. Another job was waiting. I helped to secure the school for my Cousin, Brooksie Webb, and took my leave. Perhaps I should add that the romance developed there which almost, but never quite matured.
The Steel Mill:
My next job was in Ashland, Kentucky at the American Rolling Mill Company, where I had previously worked for eight months between school terms. After getting a job I made plans to bring Moma to Ashland. I rented a modern log house standing on four acres of fertile land, with a stable a brooding house, and two laying houses. Rollie moved Moma and as much livestock as we could handle, which included two cows, three pigs, and 500 chickens. Moma was as happy as anywhere she could have been, other than on Keeton Branch. The junior farm was located at the end of 29th Street, in South Ashland, and Mom's three brothers, and one sister lived within a mile, or so in South Ashland.
Page 81
When I had found work I wrote for Thelma and our two small children to join me, and within a few days they, sisters, Mary Margaret & Kathryn, and two of their friends joined us. All crowded into one apartment while we looked for another. The only thing we could find was a house thirteen miles out in the country, owned by an attorney on President Roosevelt’s dollar-a year brain trust.
(the rest of this page really does not tell much, except stories about his work, such as the fact he broke a $75.00 cutter and got demoted and they found bed bugs in their rented apartment! After the bedbug incident they moved to Lexington, Kentucky where he worked a few weeks on a farm. From there he went to Louisville and applied for a job at Curtis-Wright’ Agency. /editor)
Page 82
I was hired, and assigned to a group of thirty men being sent to St. Louis, Mo. To be trained as a nucleus for a new plant then under construction in Louisville. The following Monday I went to St. Louis. After three weeks of intense training in the Curtis-Wright St Louis Plant, located under ground twenty mile out of St. Louis we returned to Louisville and opened the plant, though the ends of the building were still open. A few months later the pressure became very great for the delivery of more planes, though shortages of certain parts were holding us up. It culminated in our superintendent getting fired, and all the men who had gone to St. Louis with him picked up their tools and followed, each man going his own way. After a few interim jobs I ended up as tool-maker at Convair, a merger of Consolidated and Vultee Aircraft.
One of my interim jobs had been machinist & tool-maker at Reynolds Metals. The popular personnel Manager, Mr. Sullivan, took the entire machine shop crew, and transferred to Convair, a fine company, but the men didn't trust Mr. Sullivan's superior. Labor troubles developed, and a strike was called. I told Mr. Sullivan of this miss-trust and he told me that his superior would be out of town for the next week, leaving him in full charge. I told the men they could believe anything Mr. Sullivan told them. Mr. Sullivan met with us, and the strike was called off that very night.
My years at Convair were interesting, and challenging. We made dies without prints, and did our own heat-treating. Then the war began to wind down and RIFT notices were being passed out with options of transferring to other company plants, either one at Oakridge, Tennessee, and one at San Francisco Naval Shipyard. I walked across the room, telephoned the paper and placed an ad. The next day I went down town, and signed up with the U.S. Navy to come to San Francisco. (I'm leaving out a few lines here that of no importance /editor)
The Navy put us up overnight at Middle Point; then the next moved us to Richmond from where we commuted for three weeks until housing was available at Hunters Point. As soon as a baby-sitter was found Thelma also went to work at the yard, as a business machine operator.
When the war ended RIFT notices again were passed out, and I received one on Friday. When I got home I saw in the paper that school teachers were needed. I rushed down to the school superintendent's office, was told that if I could put a California credential on his desk by 2:00 p.m. on Saturday I could begin teaching the following Monday. Thelma and I made a rush trip to Sacramento, acquired the needed certificate, and had at 20 minutes of 2:00 P.M. Saturday placed it on the superintendent's desk. I went to teaching the following Monday.
Page 83 - Ova Oakland Delong & Thelma Louise Kouns
Thelma was born 7 January 1918 in Frankfort, Kentucky near the Old Capitol on Holmes Street, to John L. Kouns and Dora McNeal.
Thelma was educated in the Ashland Schools, and it was on the occasion of her graduation that her future husband, whom she had never met, and who had come to witness the graduation of his cousin, the late highly honored Dr. Benjamin Loyd Brown of Washington, D.C. Thelma began her career in Ashland, as secretary in small offices at first, and later as operator of business machines at Bituminous Coal Commission. Thelma was on a diving exhibition. They were married the following year, on Thelma's birthday, 7 January, 1939 in Grayson, Kentucky. Thelma followed her career in Ashland, in Louisville, and finally in the San Francisco Naval Shipyard from which she retired in January 1968.
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Their children:
1. Larry David - born 2 August 1940 Ashland, Boyd County, KY.
2. Gary Joseph - born 12 March 1942 Ashland, Boyd County, KY
3. Darlene - born 1 January 1946 San Francisco, CA. Born with a brain tumor; lived 10 weeks, died March 13, 1946; buried Cypress Lawn Cemetery, Colma, California.
4. Sharon Louise - born 9 November 1947 - probably born in California, since he says she went to school there, but does not give location of birth.
5. Samuel J. - born 27 January 1949.
Gravesite Details
Ref: Cemetery Records
Family Members
Siblings
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