b'woman. Not only for the little children but for all mankind -in the war. He was an Indian scout and he had been shot inversion of the good ol\' days was sitting close to an old wood absolute dedication through love. Love, ninety-nine percentthe spine. Most all his body was so stiff he could only movestove listening to it pop and crackle while having a good ol cup of us do not know what this word means. Granted, whenfrom his knees down and his arms. Yet he was a great artistof coffee, being able to smell the wood burning, and excuse the we see love in its purest form in someone else, there is noand he played mandolin and violin. He spent most of hisexpression, not having a TV blaring in your ear. That was the mistaking its identity. This unmistakable "vision of love" istime alone, painting or playing music. good ol days.Miss Julia Randall. Like all little boys, I thought Miss Randall was "mean." If she was, l wish now the world we are living inSometimes at night, after going to bed, you could hear himI cant keep from getting carried away when I look back had a lot of mean, lovely people just like her. Oh God, howplaying his mandolin. He would go out and prop a chairat the lovely days of yesteryear. One could feel the snow we need them. l never got to tell her what was really on myup against a tree to play. I seem to know the loneliness thisand smell the crispness in the air. When we woke in the mind. Now I can share with you my most inward feelings. man was experiencing as he would play. l could feel everymornings and looked out there wasn`t a sound.Now its so note he played. He played one tune called the Indian Waltz.noisy it almost knocks the snow off the fence posts. All I can I know the Town of Payson named a school in her honor.It must have come from his tribe. He was a Sioux. say is if you could have lived in Texas Flat or any place near, I know she received some worldly goods. Yet I cant helpyour Texas Flat would have left a mark of beauty in your feeling there are more things to be bestowed on this ladyIn those days there was peace and quiet in Payson. Themind that God is the only one who can produce.than just mere worldly honors. Miss Randall taught schoolsound of his music could be heard for a mile. I\'d lay there and in Star Valley and Payson. She taught my mother, Henriettaalmost cry listening to him play. Then I\'d drop off to sleep.Turns out I already know where my Texas Flat is. I suspect Ezell, her first and second-grade years, she taught me myYou know people talk about the "good ol` days." I was bornIll just leave it at that. Billie went ahead and got it all said first, second and third-grade years and would have taughtin the Depression days. To me, that was not the good ol\' days.for now. my children and their children that is if I would have hadWhat was the good ol` days was peace, the stillness, the way any grandchildren. l used to go to church in Payson. Misswe could sit around at night and talk. Then you could hearReprinted from the August 2019 issue of Arizona Real Randall was always there. Miss Randall set an example for usyourself think or almost hear a pin drop. This part I loved. MyCountry Magazine.all. We all fell short of that example - we know who we are. l know l am one who fell short of that goal. Only worse than most. This is not a judgment, its a factual statement. JudgingOld Oak Tree is when you say, That person is worse than I. Someday, if God will allow me the time, there will be a playground and park dedicated to Miss Randall. All we can do is say, ThankOf all the places I have ever lived If we would only listen, I\'d sit and watch the kids swim by,you and may God bless you forever. We love you." As a child and as a man, And take the time to see, Dream of things to seeMEMORIES OF TEXAS FLAT It seems I was led here, We would build a paradise And a future that is beautiful,January 5, 1983, by White Bird By Gods Holy Hand. Beneath an Old Oak Tree. Beneath an Old Oak Tree.I may have lived in various places in Payson in the late 30sParadise is all around us, I did when I was growing up, No one needs a chapel,and \'40s, yet I always came back to Texas Flat at least twice a week or sometimes every day. For some reason, I wasIf we take time to look As happiness, I did seek, Or a fancy place to be,always drawn to this street. God gave us ears to hear with Down in back of the old dance hall, All one needs is faith in GodWhile living at the fairgrounds where the golf course is nowAnd eyes to read His book. Down on Tonto Creek. 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