5.2.4: The Georges

The Georges

            I didn't realize what I was getting into when I married into the George Family.  The matriarch of the family was Muddie, actually named Dora, who was one of the strongest and meanest people I ever met.   While still a young girl she was married to Joe George, an itinerant Baptist preacher, and as quickly as the biological processes permitted had five children: Paul, Bessie, Dode, Nellie Jo, Jessie, and twins that didn't survive. The Reverend Joe George died of the flu and was buried in Old Dime Box, Texas (not New Dime Box which is five miles away) twenty six miles west of Bryan, leaving a young widow with no money and five small children to support. 

Muddie

 

She and the children, with their few possessions and $1,000 contributed by the members of the churches her husband had served, went by wagon to Belton, Texas probably in 1901.  There she opened a boarding house, bought with the thousand dollars, for students at Baylor Belton, a branch of the Baptist operated Baylor College in Waco for females.  Probably with her resident students and certainly with her children, she was a martinet; everyone had chores and she demanded instant obedience, enforced with a leather belt.  Obviously it was a hard row to hoe, but she never made it a secret that all her love had been buried in Old Dime Box.  Many years later, Paul, Pat's father, reported that he had heard her say more than once "I'd rather have dug the graves of all my children with a spoon than bury my husband".

The Five George Children

 

  Almost certainly because of their relationship with Muddie, the George children, at least the ones I knew and those I heard about, grew up with serious  motional problems.  They all had a love hate relationship with her.  Bessie apparently became pregnant while young and Muddie made the defoliator marry her; she then soon died of tuberculoses.  

 

 Dode got her Bachelor's degree from Baylor Belton and was accepted by the Graduate School at Columbia, where she earned a Master's Degree.  She returned to Texas and worked in Dallas, where Nellie Jo and Muddie had moved.  There she lived with a Miss Cloud for a while until she and Nellie Jo had a major confrontation, after which she moved to Southern California to live with "Miss" Cloud and her husband, a wealthy business man from Philadelphia.    Subsequently, she became one of the first female pilots, a friend of Amelia Ehrhart, and participated in cross country races and other pioneering women's events before the term "Women's Lib" was coined.  She and Nellie Jo, had no contact for more than 30 years (those Georges did know how to hold grudges).  She and the rest of the family-- Muddie, Paul and Jesse -- continued to correspond.  Somewhere along the line Dode developed severe high blood pressure and had to spend most of her time in bed, in the home of "Miss Cloud" and her husband.  She and Nellie Jo were reconciled via the telephone prior to her demise and Nellie, Paul and Jessie visited her shortly before she died.  I suspect that she and Miss Cloud were lesbian lovers and that Nellie Jo discovered it, causing the estrangement, but no one even hinted at such an immoral relationship by the daughter of Baptist minister  [This seems to be true.  Many years later, my Aunt Barbara went out to California and found Dode’s grave; she was buried next to Miss Cloud and another female friend. EKS]

Aunt Dode 

Paul bailed out as soon as he could; apparently Muddie gave him a particularly hard time as the senior male in the household at ten years of age. He got a job working at a creamery in a
nearby town at thirteen and moved out; at sixteen he was managing it and had bought it before he was twenty. He often told me tales of making butter and, especially, ice cream--to which he was addicted until he died. He left the creamery in the stewardship of the local Baptist preacher when he was drafted in World War I, and always claimed the preacher stole it from him while he was away to the war.  Actually, I have the feeling that Paul had an absolute genius for not trusting the right people and trusting the wrong people. He missed a lot of opportunities because of mistrust and lost a lot of money because he trusted people who eventually ate his lunch.

Going away to war was not arduous. He reported to a camp in Waco, Texas, less than a hundred miles from Belton, and never left it. Because he had been fascinated with the newly invented automobiles, he had spent all his spare time learning about them; not only driving them but also taking them apart to see what made them work. He was immediately assigned to the Motor Pool where he repaired cars and trucks and even assembled them from parts shipped in from the factory. Paul told me that he never wore his uniform; life in the army was no different except it was easier and he had more privileges.

Having lost the creamery, Paul joined the migrant workers in the developing Texas oil business. With his talent with all things mechanical, drilling oil wells was a natural for him. They started out moving essentially water-well digging equipment to lease sites by teams of horses and wagons and providing power for drilling the well with steam engines complete with boilers
fired by wood. Paul told me, and I don't know whether it's true or not, that one night while waiting for the steam pressure to build up enough to begin utilizing it the thought occurred to him that "if I ran a belt from the can shaft to the drill shaft, the car engine would provide the power". Whoever thought of it, that was the end of steam driven power in the oil industry; as a minor result my father, a boiler maker and fireman, went to work for the Fort Worth and Denver City Railroad as a fireman, still shoveling coal into a fire that powered a steam engine. 

Paul and Nellie Jo

 

Nellie Jo was unquestionably the PICK OF THE LITTER. I don't know much about the early days in Belton, but she moved to Dallas as soon as she could manage it. There she met and married a Bob Tarrant. Muddie didn't like him and the marriage didn't last long. Muddie soon moved to Dallas to "take care of Nellie Jo"; that relationship, although always tense, lasted for more than 30 years.

Nellie worked for the Dallas Automobile Club (AAA) for many years, virtually running it as Executive Secretary for much of the time. She was the first person I knew with real CLASS; she loved beautiful things and spent all her money on the BEST: clothes from Neiman Marcus, jewelry from Linz, Steuben Crystal, sterling silver flatware and serving dishes, Havilland China, lovely porcelain "knickknacks", and beautiful furniture. Nellie Jo was also the most generous person I have ever known; she never forgot a birthday or anniversary and her gifts were always perfect. Her gift list was not confined to the family, but encompassed a wider circle of friends than the family knew.

She ALWAYS, with rare exceptions, prepared Christmas Dinner for the George Family. But first, there was the opening of gifts--most from beneath Nellie's exquisitely decorated Christmas Tree and provided by her. Paul, Nellie's big brother, always got the most, but, as the first male to marry into the family, I was a close second for a few years. Nellie always overdid it for Paul and he responded by sneaking outside and nipping from his pint of bourbon until he was half crocked and resentful that he could not reciprocate.

We didn't drink in Nellie's home for years because Muddie didn't approve. I think I broke that barrier by bringing my own bottle and calmly fixing myself a drink while talking to Muddie. I don't think she was educated and certainly not amused when I reminded her of Jesus's encouragement of the custom of drinking wine and noting that if they had known how to distill liquor back then, he probably would have put in a good word for whiskey. I'm sure I was an enigma to Muddie; I was the first one in the Family who was not intimidated by her. All her children and their spouses observed her restrictions in her presence; I decided I was not going to let a warped old woman control my behavior in her daughter's house.

Christmas Dinner, itself, was a pageant. No one seemed aware that Nellie Jo had been up since 4:00 AM to put the turkey on, basting it every half hour while she prepared the Waldorf
Salad, baked sweet potatoes, rolls, various vegetables, fruit salad, giblet gravy, pumpkin pie, pecan pie, and other desserts. In between, she set the table: Irish Linen table cloth, napkins in napkin holders, crystal water glasses, silver flatware, serving dishes and spoons, demitasse cups for after dinner coffee, china for each course. Everyone sat down to dinner at Nellie's summons; the turkey came out of the oven golden brown, stuffed and surrounded by delicious dressing (that had taken a little time, too), all the vegetables and the rolls were hot, the butter, salads and the drinks were cold, and everything arrived on the table simultaneously. It was just ACCEPTED; it was there and perfect like everyone expected from Nellie. We took the seats assigned by Nellie Jo and enjoyed the meal, unless Paul tried to spoil it by going into one of his tirades.

Nellie Jo had a "boy friend", Earnest Thornton, of long standing when I joined the family. Muddie didn't approve of him, either; he had been married and DIVORCED twice and had two
children from the second marriage. I don't know how faithful he had been to his former wives, but he was always waiting in his car to take Nellie Jo to work and bring her home in the afternoon. He took her to all the SMU home games during the football season and less cultural events like plays and symphonies that Nellie wanted to attend.

Nellie Jo and Earnest took a "vacation" together every year: Colorado several times, Mexico, Chicago for the World's Fair, Lake Louise. I'm sure Muddie, if she thought about it at all, assumed they had separate rooms, but I never believed it for a minute. I prefer to believe they celebrated a couple of weeks of freedom from Muddie with all sorts of sexual experiences. In addition to his unflagging devotion, Earnest gave Nellie Jo numerous material gifts: a mink stole, diamond bracelets, etc., all viewed with a frown and sniff of disapproval by Muddie.

Earnest was probably the nicest man I ever met, aside from the fact he could stand on his head. Also, as I learned much later, he was an avid deer hunter, sharing a lease in the "Hill Country" with several friends for many years. He always drove the newest car and wore the latest clothes, neither of which ever had a wrinkle. He was always cheerful, unflaggingly courteous to Muddie despite her blatant disapproval of him, and obviously totally in love with Nellie Jo. Even Paul liked him, but he maintained a low profile at Christmas and, I assume, other times when he was allowed inside the house.

 

Jesse was the STAR of the George family; he was a gambler from childhood until he lost his last bet to disseminated prostatic cancer. He was the most exciting, fun person I have ever known. According to Paul, he was playing high stakes poker with the bankers and leading businessmen of Belton, smiling and taking their money, before he was sixteen years old. He was a freshman in the first class at Southern Methodist University (SMU), but left to join the Lafayette Espadrille in World War I. He was one of the first US Military Pilots; I don't know whether he saw combat in World War I, but he knew all the right people and they remembered him.

I don't think Jesse went back to college after the war, but he got a job with the Gulf Oil Company as a geologist, probably smiling while he took their money, and was sent to Tampico where he met Girlie. They soon returned to Houston, where he was a midlevel executive with Gulf Oil Company, living in a modest house and having three children. The eldest, a son, was drowned while attending summer camp and the two daughters, Ray and Mary Jo were subsequently over-protected and over-indulged.

Jesse was always the big spender; his Christmas presents were spectacular: Pat and her sister Barbara each received Hartman luggage one Christmas and diamond studded watches
another. He and Girlie took Ray and Mary Jo to Dallas every year to shop for school clothes at Neiman Marcus. They always had a suite at the Baker Hotel, at least after I knew them.

Gulf Oil was not big enough for Jesse; in the mid-thirties he opened an office as an independent oil operator and in 1937 or 1938 bought a house in River Oaks, then and still THE EXCLUSIVE residential area in Houston. He also joined the Houston Club where, with his personality, he was one of the most popular members. He took me to lunch there a couple of times, once with Eddie Dyer who was Manager of the St. Louis Cardinals and several important Houston citizens he wanted to show me off to.

Jesse told me once while we were having lunch that he had made more money playing bridge at the Houston Club the previous year than from his oil business. I'm sure he kept them laughing while he was taking their money, and I'll bet they didn't mind.

Jesse loved sports events and he never missed an important one. The entire Jesse George family went to the Kentucky Derby every year; he was an avid football fan, following Rice mostly but liable to turn up at important A&M games after I married into the family. He always had at least a half dozen 50-yard-line tickets for every game, including the Cotton Bowl. For years during my graduate school times and spending the holidays in Fort Worth or Dallas, he would call and offer me from two to a half dozen tickets--50 yard-line, of course--to the Cotton Bowl. I'd take a few friends and sell the rest of the tickets outside the Cotton Bowl. Jesse would never accept any money for the tickets he gave me, even for the ones I sold.

When he, and the rest of the Houston Georges, came to Dallas for the Cotton Bowl, they would have a suite at the Baker Hotel-- he did it for the Texas-Oklahoma Game some years. All the family would be invited to their suite for dinner; Jesse would order for everyone: sirloin steak or prime rib, always rare, plus salad and appropriate vegetables and catered by black skinned white coated waiters. Only Jesse and I ate much of the rare beef, with the blood running before you speared it, all of us had grown up on chicken fried veal steak and only Jesse and I had learned how good raw meat could taste.

Jesse was ALWAYS the center of attention, ordering and officiating at the catered dinners at the Baker Hotel, at the rare visits to Nellie Jo's for Christmas, and in the exact middle
of the 50 yard-line at football games. He was like Robert Preston in THE MUSIC MAN, almost hypnotic and always entertaining, but he cared about people, too, or at least put on a good show. He appeared, unannounced, when I was awarded my Master's Degree--the first person to congratulate me after I came off the stage. I didn't even know he was aware I was getting the degree, so I was surprised to see him.

The Christmas at Thompsons was special. Jesse had taken on the role of the cattleman and the place was set up to meet his concept of the 20th Century Gentleman Rancher. The huge old house and yard must occupy almost five acres; the kitchen was staffed by several black women who, I believe, were descendants of Mr Thompson's slaves and had never left the property. They were in complete control of the kitchen. Interestingly, Girlie had never cooked a meal in her life; they had a full time cook and housekeeper in Houston, probably one of the black women from Thompsons.

The lush Gulf Coast Coastal Prairie around the mouth of the Brazos River supports the highest cow-to-acre ratio in Texas and Jesse had the property loaded to capacity with Hereford cows bulging with the spring crop of developing calves. Some of his friends in the Houston Club gave him a bull or a heifer or two to welcome him into the cattle business. Jesse obviously enjoyed taking the men around in a jeep to view the bulls and pregnant cows; after all, what Texan wouldn't--especially Texans who had grown up dirt poor.

Pat and I drove from College Station to Thompsons in our new second hand 1947 Hudson. Paul and Agnes were there, as were Nellie Jo, Ernest, and Muddie. We were in Jessie's house and he defied Muddie by making liquor openly available and encouraging its consumption by setting a stalwart example. Jesse, especially, but aided and abetted by Paul and Nellie Jo, raked Muddie over the coals. They talked about the good times and the bad times of growing up in Belton, mostly the latter, and how mean Muddie was to them. I'm sure that was one of the most difficult times she ever experienced, but that old woman showed no emotion; I didn't particularly like her, but I must admit she had more guts than most people I have known.

The meals, especially Christmas Dinner, were great; breakfast reminded me of growing up: hot biscuits and ham or sausage or bacon or all three and eggs prepared exactly the way
you wanted. The other meals were as good or better. I would have been more than willing to stay there for an indefinite time.

Jesse, who had lied about his age to get into World War I, had not stayed in the Reserves and had not kept up with his flying; but when World War II broke out, he HAD to be in it. He
went to Washington and met with some of his cronies from World War I, all of whom were generals, and some Texas congressmen and returned to Houston as a Major in the US Army Air Corps.

Fortunately, they didn't let him fly, but put him into Administration. He was Executive Officer at a couple of Air Bases, and soon a Lt. Col. and Commanding Officer of the base at Recifie, Brazil where he hosted, among other celebrities, Eleanor Roosevelt and Madame Chiang Kai-Shek. According to Jesse, Mrs. Roosevelt was not a problem but Madame Chiang Kai-Shek, often known as the Dragon Lady, did have some special requirements. She had to have satin sheets and they had to be changed in the morning and after her afternoon nap. Jesse was not enamored by either of them, but I'll bet he charmed them both.

Meanwhile back in River Oaks, Girlie had a problem. Not only had she not ever paid a bill, she had never written a check in her life. She had an expensive home, two daughters, one or
more servants and not the foggiest notion of how to run the house or pay the bills. The family attorney came out and showed her how to write a check; actually, he took care of everything but the groceries. Girlie was not stupid; she had just been sheltered all her life like many southern women in her time. She was the most gracious lady I ever met and worked hard to instill her social graciousness into her daughters in the face of Jesse's gaffes. She must have been terribly embarrassed many times by Jesse's extroversion, but she never criticized him.

As soon as the war was over, Jesse let his friends in the right places know he was ready to go home and was soon awarded a medal or two and relieved from Active Duty. I'm surprised they didn't promote him to full Colonel as a going away present; I'm sure if they had, all the Georges would have known. Still, he didn't do too bad for someone who hadn't hit a lick in more than 20 years--just a born leader, I guess.

The Jesse Georges invited Pat and me down for the weekend a couple of times while I was finishing off my BS and working on my Master's. That was gracious living; black women who prepared the meals also served them and removed the dishes, sheets turned down in the guest room, several kinds of liquor on the bar in the family room--it was like being in a movie, and I loved every minute of it. If Jesse had offered to adopt me, I would have accepted on the spot.