The Good Old Days

Even though the era of the ‘good ole days’ was difficult, economically unsound sometimes, there was a spirit of survivorship existing.

God was upper-most in people’s minds and their lives. Prayer in school and public places were not scoffed and declared unconstitutional.

There was an admiration for patriotism toward one’s country and fellow man. God Bless America was a rally cry heard around the world. The Pledge of Allegiance to the flag meant loyalty and respect. The Armed Forces were regarded with the highest esteem. There were no bullying protests, no burning of our flag, and certainly no disrespect for one’s beliefs. There were no objections to public displays of the Ten Commandments or the Manger Crèche scene at Christmas. Supposedly, it was a peaceful time.

It’s what’s in the heart that counted the most to people. “Love thy neighbor” was more than a creed or commandment. There would most assuredly be a negative effect, consequentially, if that were not practiced. Some had to rely on sole preservation from other people to survive, if they had no family or income.

The blue-collar working classes were the backbone of one’s community, supplied by the white-collar management. Those “who had” made it possible for the “have nots” to flourish, by offering tools of production for those less inclined or unable to attain a proper degree of education. Factories flourished to supply the manpower for their resources, while farmers supplied the food train to the expanded markets. Those benefactors with credentials of knowledge and power helped groom the underlings with a solid background in their field of expertise.

Oil exploration had arrived on the scene and provided the community with another outlet for occupations. The proverbial oil boom set the stage for future endeavors. Some of the most successful producers were ingrained in the community, and their resources were an important part to the vital economy. In those days they were referred to as “Oil Johnnys”, which some people considered a derogatory term; today they are held to a higher standard. The oil market had its ups and downs like most of the trades on Wall Street even now.

“Mom and Pop” stores became a natural prime resource for income as the older members of the family soon passed their waged interests on to their children, who handily grabbed the reins and upgraded to the changing tides. Main Street in Fairfield was an example of a second-generation entity of semi-success.

Of course the newspaper chains in the community were the most influential in setting the standards for pro and con journalism. “Never make anyone mad who buys ink by the barrel,” was a quote by Henry Mathews heard around the town hall meetings. Somehow that never seemed to influence the outspoken souls who had a personal axe to grind.

The churches were an influential aspect in the small community. A collage of religious beliefs, Catholic and Protestant, and their rituals of Christianity and Dogma were different; but despite these differences, we were all joined in one common bond where goals of salvation were all the same. In the process of reading the bible, varied interpretations existed. For instance, you and your neighbor could read the same verse in the bible but individually have an opposite view. Most of the controversy between the churches was related to The Judgment.

The kaleidoscopes of opinions were tempered toward a trust in the Lord to instill in them a righteous outcome even though the difficult times loomed ahead.

And for those of us, who aren’t astute in the biblical teachings, the churches offered an array of religious leaders. Some came with documented credentials, such as Reverend, Minister, Pastor, or Priest, Father, etc. There were others that held the same philosophy, but titles were less formal, such as Evangelists, Preacher, Brother, Sister, Elders, and others with a biblical meaning.

One such preacher, Rev. Ralph McGill, or Papa Ralph as he was called, had no formal seminary teachings. His theological training was from a spiritual entity that engulfed his senses with a righteous, religious nature. The heads of the church were the leaders, and the body of the church was the parishioners.

At the opposite end of the spectrum is religion versus non-believers. We can all agree to disagree, of course, it’s relative to Freedom of Speech. There are some that use that mantra as a political platform and abuse that privilege in order to suit the person’s own agenda to avoid the law.

Catastrophic crimes were unheard of in the area. The appearance of the Shelton Gang caused some stir in the underlying areas, but very few people feared their existence. If you asked me and mine, we had no uneasy qualms about their illegal activities. As far as I was concerned, those who cut a wide swathe with their sword would eventually come to an end, one way or another. It was a Wild West Poetic Justice moment in time.

Even though there were critical times facing the masses, it didn’t damper the hope and rising sentiment for one’s future endeavors. Those people with large families had a far tougher time to cope with their struggles, but there were never complaints about “poor me” or I deserve more. They picked themselves up by the bootstraps and thanked God for what little they did have.

The community had a charitable nature, and it still exists to this day. Naturally skeptics were still around to dissipate your dreams, to rain on your parade, so to speak. That element will never be absolved, not in this lifetime, not ever.
In the south end of this community lived a gentle giant, by the name of Ralph Cornor McGill who was a very humble man of integrity, with simple pleasures and simple needs. His joy in God and family superseded anything in his path.