There is no true telling of time. A few photographs were made of merely a partial second of their lives, that sometimes show their faces in depth enough to give us the portrait that we want to remember, or at least think we can have a small part of, to carry on to our children and their children after that.
Stare long enough, and you will have the feeling of the twenties and thirties try to flood you. You will see his overalls, dirty and caked with dry red permian soil. Each wrinkle of the cotton fabric pulling the clothing together. His shirt, blue but faded, his shoes were laced up, their surface scratched, tattered, and threads peeling out, meaning the souls were well worn.
The draft horses, these broad backed beasts of burden whose lives would stretch to thirty or sometimes forty years, who would be compliant to pull the plow, or run the seed planter, and make straight rows, all in exchange for food, water, and rest. These reins in his hands, as tough as the leather he held, as strong as was needed. The bone dry fence, the small cabin, paintless, built before the depression, the brown beans boiled and cooked and hopefully pieces of pork that would make breakfast, lunch and dinner.
My mother, who just turned 88, is the last of her group, and can only think of the stories told, the laughs shared and the wisdom of the tellers.
My grandfather made it a couple of years in school. He had been beset with polio that made him have one leg shorter and smaller than the other, he would limp badly, but kept himself up and worked his entire life on farms and houses in Mtn. View, Gotebo, and Strong City, taking care of those who needed his help. Never once was he seen wearing a coat, just a denim jacket across his shoulders.
There aren't many photographs of him, and fewer of his father and fewer of his grandfather. We remember he could work, he could laugh, he could be silent. He could cook, garden, and take care of what they had. Their small house was their home, and their home was their castle.
Ralph Peck
Painted From a Photograph of Robert Roy Peck, Born 1907 in Oklahoma
Painting By Geraldine Woolever Peck
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