Armed with the photo and address of the house where my Father and his Father and his Father once lived, we all headed up Main Street, away from the Business District. I saw it first. The house really, really was still there!
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 A close up of the four people standing to the left of the house: My Father, Step Grandmother, Grandfather, Great Grandfather |
I had expected to see the store building still standing because Ted provided proof that it was. On the other hand, I had expected to either see a vacant lot or a new house standing where the c1909 house in the photo stood. How could the winds that come sweeping down the Plains not have destroyed this little house on Main Street? How could it have withstood development in the name of progress?
To my utter amazement and sheer joy, it did. And it looked remarkably good. It was as sturdy and steadfast as the people who built and lived in it. It even had two concrete stoops out in front, resembling those from the house in Chicago where I grew up!
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Standing in front of it, and on the sides of it, and in the back of it, surpassed standing in front of B. Goldsmiths. Now NO building ANYWHERE will ever surpass it. I simply could not take enough photos of me standing by this house…including one with my husband next to me in the very spot where my Father (then a little boy), step-Grandmother, Grandfather, and Great Grandfather stood in the photo provided by my cousin.
There was one more structure to visit that meant the world to my Father: Collinsville High School. It was a short walk from his house. As we crossed the street and headed to where it once stood (now replaced by the Middle School), I felt I was walking to school as he once did.
 The School my Father attended, which burned in 1971 |
 Side view |
 The pillar on the right was rolled down the hill a few blocks by some students. It has sat on the side of the road ever since. |
 There are hopes of restoring it as a monument, if it is structurally sound and enough money can be raised..... |
The way my Father lived his childhood came into focus: In essence, his house was in the middle. If he walked one way, he was at the family store; if he walked perpendicular to it, he was at school. I was literally following in his footsteps, walking on the same original bricks that lined the same streets.
As we walked down a residential street, a lady with a beautiful name who had just picked up her daughter at music camp literally braked and stopped her car next to us. She rolled down her window and said, “You must be Barbara.” I positively melted, and it wasn’t from the heat. I was on the streets where my Father lived, and there was nowhere else on earth that I would rather be.
Education played a major part of that life. It is a value my Father instilled in his children and his grandchildren. Seeing photos of the majestic CHS he attended, I can see why it was so important to him. He graduated as Valedictorian of the Class of ‘31, one full year ahead of schedule. He liked to tell us he was so bright, his Father called him “Sonny.” Amongst his possessions, I found two books listing all the National Honor Society members throughout Oklahoma during his high school years; his name was among them. I now understood why, at great sacrifice, he took off work the morning I was inducted to the chapter at my high school.
Ted knew we needed to see the new CHS, so we all got in our car. As former educators, my husband and I were delighted to meet Principal Cory Slagle wearing his “vacation hat” getting ready for the new school year. As Art Goldsmith’s daughter, I was thrilled to see his picture displayed with the graduating classes in the foyer.
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Time to return to Main Street. We entered the newly renovated Library, which was also a short distance from my Father’s house. As I saw all the children spending their summer among the books, I could easily picture him there, too. We were warmly greeted by Librarian Susan Babbitt who remembered I was coming to town. Coincidentally Fawn Ozug was there with her darling daughter. She emailed me when she read my story. I had been planning to stop by Rock Gym, and there she was. The joys of small town living!
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 Dawn and daughter |
After spending the better part of the day (which included lunch at Bill and Ruth’s), Ted went back to work while my husband and I explored the shops. One stop was Schultheiss Insurance, to meet Bart, and thank him for his lovely email. Another was to check out the antique stores.
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Bart |
 Trent, Brad |
We walked into Rogers and Sons where Trent helped me find two antique hat items that might have been sold at B. Goldsmith’s. Brad Francis, Main Street Board President, was also there. He was delightfully nonchalant; he just assumed our paths would cross, since he had read how excited I was about Collinsville being preserved.
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This item is indeed a miniature hat and hat box. It was given when someone wanted to give you a hat as a gift. In essence, it was a gift certificate you took to the store where it was bought. It was then exchanged for a hat of your choice. |
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The type of hat stand B. Goldsmith's would have used to display their millinery. Could it have possibly COME from there??? |
It now holds my Father's hat from his days in the Civilian Conservation Corps in Arkansas. It was the only place he and other young men could find work when the Dust Bowl, followed by the Depression, hit Oklahoma. The money he earned sustained the family but only to a point. Eventually he made his way back to Chicago where he would meet my Mother. The rest is the rest of his story...and mine. |
Our day ended with supper at Jalapeno’s where we relived our amazing day, planned for the next two, and basked in the laughter of families at the tables surrounding us.
