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Memories of Golde Dicks Markham (1996) Golde Markham Dicks 68/125

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I was too young to date during the horse-and-buggy days. But even then it was un­
comfortable and at times embarrassing for .the dating couple. Just think about driving down

the road with your girlfriend by your side when nature takes its course with the horse. When
nature called, the horse would lift his tail and have a bowel movement right in the face of his
audience. You were forced to be a spectator with a ringside seat! The odor was awful. No

matter how many times you had seen this sight, it still wasn’t a pretty thing. Thank heavens, I
was too young to have this happen on a date.
I usually had some of the family accompany me on my dates. Sometimes Ma, Tribble,
Emerald, Opal, and Fay kept me company. All of the kids sat in the mother-in-law seat of a

Ford that Eric’s boss let him use on weekends.
My very first date was with Dewy Ward. Luckily, we didn’t plan to go anywhere
because I surely would have hated to see Ma trying to balance four younguns on the back of

Dewy’s old mule—with Dewy and me on the mule, too! Dewy Ward passed away many
years ago.
I had another boyfriend for a while, Thomas Pearce. He had a sad death. While he was
working under a car, which was jacked up on blocks of wood, the car slid off the blocks and

crushed him to death.
I got letters in the mail from many boys. I carried on a correspondence with Anthony
Edenfield even though Ma and Pa didn’t approve of writing to boys. Ma would walk down

the road about half way to the mailbox just before the postman arrived.
She and Pa read my letters then tore them up. One of the boys I had a crush on hap­
pened to be the brother of our mail carrier, Guy Markham. At that time, our mailbox was
down near the springhead. One day I slipped through the field and through the woods to

meet Guy.
I asked, “Could you. dome a favor since I’m not getting any mail?”

“Sure!” Guy said.
“Could you put my mail under that fallen pine tree where it’s raised up about a foot off
the ground? Put a piece of pine bark over my letters so if it rains, they won’t get wet.”
Guy knew what my parents were doing—and he knew it was wrong. He also knew

that I was writing to other boys besides his brother, but he never told‘his brother my secret.
Some years later, I organized children’s Christmas programs at the church with dia­
logues, songs, a Christmas tree, and a visit from Santa Claus. For several years Guy

Markham did the honors. He was the perfect Santa.

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