Deer Meat & Coon Tails

And here's another good "Bert" story. Sorry, Bert. We just had some "memorable" experiences while you all were up here.

I remember the time the four of us were heading somewhere, and about half way to Smithville we saw the car in front of us hit a deer. Bert said, "Stop! Let's go back and get it." So, we turned around in the middle of the road, and checked it out.

It was definitely dead, but didn't look too banged up so we loaded it in the back of whatever we were driving (Joan's Blazer, I think) and headed for the house. We strung that deer up in the shop and commenced cleaning it.

Now, it didn't look bad on the outside, but the inside was ooooeeeeee!!!! If you have any idea what getting hit by a car does to the insides of a deer, you KNOW what we ran into when we cut him open!!!

I don't think I even stayed out there, but Bert was determined to get some deer meat out of it, so he kept at it a good share of the evening. I actually do believe that he got a roast and maybe some steaks out of the hind quarters, but that was about all that was salvageable.

I really think I could smell "deer insides" when we were eating it. Surely not, but it definitely left a lasting impression.

And, that brings to mind another story.

We were tooling down the highway one day, just Joan and me, and I saw a raccoon by the side of the road that looked pretty fresh-hit. So, being the cheapskate that I am, and knowing how much coonskin caps were worth, I decided to get that little feller and make me one.

I stopped the truck, and took a look at him, and decided that maybe I'd better just get the tail instead of the whole thing. We were on our way someplace, and I figured the whole carcass would get to stinking before we got home.

So, I grabbed him by the tail and had my knife ready to cut it off. I don't know if you are aware of it or not, but the first thing a coon (and probably any other critter) does when it gets hit, and is probably on it's way to it's eternal destination is to relieve himself. So, of course, I reached down, and got a BIG handful of "coon relief". UGH!!!

I wiped my hands on the grass and proceeded to cut the tail off, but since it had an abundant supply of "coon relief" on it as well, I decided to put it in the tool box in the back of the truck. That way it wouldn't stink up the inside.

BUT, I couldn't get the smell off my hand. I wiped and wiped, and got what water I could get my hands on and tried to wash, all for nothing. It stunk terrible!!! I ended up riding all the way to wherever we were going with my hand out the driver's window.

It took a lot of scrubbing with strong soap to get rid of that smell. The worst part about the whole coontail thing was, that by the time I got home, I forgot I'd put it in the tool box, so after quite a while of baking inside a metal box in the hot sun, it was REALLY ripe when I finally found it.

So, I've learned, if it's dead on the highway, leave it be. You REALLY don't want to mess with "road kill" 'cause road kill will MESS with you!!

WB

Bert & the Sweetheart Bits

I love to tell stories on other people, and of course, Bert just keeps coming to mind since he spent some real "quality" time with us helping out in the store.

One time I walked in the front door and Bert was showing a fellow a pair of spurs and a pair of bits that I had down there. Just as I came in I heard him say, "Oh, about $10.00 for all three pieces."

I nearly fell all over myself stopping that sale. I said, "Bert, those were MINE when I was a kid, and they are NOT for sale!"

It was a pair of the first aluminum bits ever made by Crockett. Mother and Daddy had gotten them for me when I was 13 years old for my birthday and they had a heart in them. I always called them my "sweetheart bits".

And the spurs were a pair I had modified in order to be able to ride my horse bareback. I didn't have a saddle back then so cut the sharp little points off the spurs and then just dug in and hung on for dear life. If I had of been 10 minutes later, my spurs and bits would have been gone FOREVER.

But today Joan is wearing the spurs and we still use the bits on either of our horses. Some things just cannot be replaced.

So, Bert, "Nice try. I appreciate you trying to make a sale, but glad I interrupted that one!"

WB

The Store Keepers

It's amazing what your mind will come up with when you are sitting around not feeling really great in the first place, and just letting it wander. Of course, I'm in that wonderful stage of my life where I can remember all that stuff that happened YEARS ago, but can't remember what I had for supper last night. Short term memory is a thing of the past.

Anyway, I was thinking about son, Bert, for some reason, and then got remembering about the first time he and his wife came up to help us in the store. It was back in the summer of 1986. I believe they'd been up for the 4th. of July parade that year, and saw how busy we were, so decided to come up and give us a hand.

We fixed up the upstairs part of the store for them to live in, and they got settled. Around the first part of August, I decided it was time to leave them on their own to see how they could handle things, so Joan and I took a camping trip to Colorado - mainly to get out of the HEAT that was overbearing that year.

So, I sat Bert down and gave him some info that I thought he might need while we were gone. It kinda went like this:

"Bert, if you have a problem with the plumbing, you call the plumber, Bert. When the garbage needs hauled off, you call the garbage man, Bert. When you need the gate opened or closed, you call the gate man, Bert. If you have a problem with the electric, you call the electrician, Bert."

All of a sudden he stopped me. "Wait, Dad. I need to get these numbers down."

I said, "Bert, didn't you understand what I said? All of the men I mentioned were named BERT."

That stopped him cold. HE was going to have to be the plumber, gate man, garbage man, electrician, etc. That's the way it is in a self-owned store. You get to do it ALL.

Another time, he and I had worked out butts off putting signs up north along the side of the highway. Each hole had to be nearly drilled in the hard, rocky ditches to put the post in. When we were finished, Joan and I left for Nashville to attend the Gospel Quartet Convention being held there.

The next morning we called the store to see how the kids were doing, and Bert was in a RAGE.

"Dad, ya know what someone did????"

I could never have guessed.

"Someone pulled up all the signs (about 20 of 'em), and put them by the front gate, poured oil on them and set them on fire."

Fortunately, they didn't burn. He was really in a tether. He couldn't find the holes they went in, so had to spend a day drilling new holes. THEN, we marked the edge of the highway with paint so we could find the holes IF someone did it again.

Then, one time Joan and I had been to Texas for something and we stopped at a yard sale. The people asked us where we were from in Oklahoma after seeing our license plate. We said up north of Broken Bow in the mountains.

They asked us if we had ever been to the old country store along the side of the road before you get to the Three Sticks monument. Not really knowing how to answer, I asked, "Why?"

"Well," he said, "we were up there yesterday, and stopped to see what all they had, and the nicest young couple that owned it made us feel so welcome. We're telling everyone about the store. They have all kinds of stuff and the best ice cream."

Then we didn't mind telling them that this was our store and they were our kids. It was so nice to hear such good remarks from a customer. Bert and wife did a great job when they were here.

I'm sure I have some more "Bert" stories, so I'll lean back, relax, and let the mind go. So, will post more memories later.

WB

Poke Salet

Been out picking poke today and I always think of two people when I do it. By the way, it's an annual affair for me. I try to get enough picked so I won't have to heat up my outside burner to boil it off three times. Joan won't let me cook it in the house, she says it "stinks" the place up too bad.

Course it has to be boiled THREE times with the water poured off each time. Guess it pours the poison out of it. On the third boil, I add the wild onions that I also pulled along the highway right-of-way. Guess folks think I picking up cans when I'm out there in the road ditches.

The TWO I always think of are: daughter, Elicia, and good friend, Bob Blake. This goes back to this story from about 1971 or 1972.

Bob was down visiting from New Jersey and Elicia was 6 or 7 years old and wanted to go pick poke. Now if you don't know what poke is, it's a weed that grows wild that is really poisonous if you eat it wrongfully prepared.

Anyway, we started off on the journey with knife and paper bag in hand. Bob was watching and really taking this in. Well, we brought it home, washed it, and gave it to Elicia's mother to prepare. We had it for supper, and I really thought THAT was all of it.

HOWEVER, several months later we were in Chicago at a meeting of Dodge Inc. Trophy Co. and Bob and I were there. Bob was asked about visiting the Dodge facility in Texas and what impressed him the most about it.

(Ya got to know Bob and his humor to really appreciate this, and he tried to talk with a southern drawl like Elicia did and still does.) Anyway, he said,"The urine salad Bill's wife prepared for us to EAT".

To say the least, I was totally shocked. Yep! I was shocked!

He said, "Bill and Elicia took me into the woods with a knife and paper sack, and she said, 'thar's won daidy', and Bill would go clip it off and put it in the bag. Then when the bag was full, we took it home and Elicia's mother boiled the piss out of it THREE times, and then we ate it." End of that story.

But every year when I go after poke salet, I always think of Bob and Elicia and the "urine salad".

The Visit

Joan told me she was watching Crook and Chase tonight on RFD-TV, and Garth Brooks was one of the guests. Well, that reminded me of an incident that happened early in our Babcock's Store career.

A fellow used to come through on his way to and from Carl Albert College in Poteau and he would stop and get him a malt or ice cream and we got to visiting. He told me that he was a coach, and had a daughter that lived in Oklahoma who was married to a guy who was trying to get started in country music.

He told me his name, but it didn't mean anything to me, so I didn't really remember it.

Well, after he'd been coming quite a lot, he stopped by one day with his family - wife, daughter, and son-in-law. They were on their way to Nashville where his son-in-law was going to try to get into country music in a big way. He told me he'd quit his job as coach and was going to be managing his son-in-law full time. Then he introduced his family to us, and BELIEVE IT OR NOT, his son-in-law was Garth Brooks. I don't remember if he had his big hat then yet or not. I actually think he just was wearing a baseball cap.

But, I'd never heard of Garth Brooks, so it was, like, OK. Good luck in Nashville. Joan barely remembers the visit as she was busy dishing up the malts and ice cream. I'm sure if he'd been "drop dead" gorgeous she'd remember, but-----

Anyway, now that I remember back on this little encounter, another thing comes to mind. We had a yellow legal pad at the front door that was our "guest book". We asked everyone who came in to sign the guest book. That was as much a part of our greeting as was "Y'all come in and make yourselves at home." Then we'd say, "Be sure and sign the guest book." So, we probably had Garth Brooks' signature in our little yellow pad guest book.

AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT????????? About 8 or 10 years after we first opened we had a BIG stack of these yellow pads, and one day I asked Joan, "What are we ever going to do with all these pads?" And since she couldn't come up with anything either, WE THREW THEM AWAY!!!! And Garth Brooks' signature right along with them. DO YOU BELIEVE IT??? Joan still hyperventilates when she thinks about it.

But, such was life in Babcock's Store. We won some and we lost some! Garth Brooks was a lost one.

You'll notice some additional pix on the right side. I'll have to tell you a story about some of them later on.

Till next time,
wb<<<>>>>

The Babcock's Store Song

I told you already that we had an old rinky-tink piano that Joan loved playing more than making malts and shakes, etc. Not quite as much as taking the money, but it was definitely in second place.

I mentioned that she would usually sing "The Babcock's Store Song", but I didn't really tell you what that was.

Joan is famous for her version of "I Like Stinky Cheese". When she was playing with the Julida Boys Polka Band up in Wisconsin, she introduced the band to that song, and it was the title of their first recorded album. The front cover had all the band members like little mice with their instruments sitting on a huge wheel of cheese. Little mouse, Joan, had a green bow in her hair so you could tell it was a "her".

Anyway, after we got the store going, I thought it would be really good to have a theme song for her to sing when customers came in. So-o-o-o-o-o-o, she got busy and wrote up words about the store to the tune of "Stinky Cheese". If you don't know how it goes, you can click this link to, not only hear the song, but see the re-worked versions of the song she came up with as things changed in the store.

So, here you are - The 1st. version of "The Babcock's Store Song."

Welcome folks to Babcock's Store, we have got gifts galore,
Soda fountain by the door, here at Babcock's Store.
Barbeque and ham and cheese, frito pie, if you please,
Ice cream, too, to tempt and tease, here at Babcock's Store.

CH:
We're so glad you stopped by, if just to say "Hi" to all us here,
But to make our day more sunny, just spend some money, and buy a souvenir.
Rest stop, potty, it's all here, at our "tuch" of yest'r-year,
Coffee, too, but there's no beer, here at Babcock's Store.

Jams and jellies for your bread, coonskin caps to fit your head,
Lots of guns that don't shoot lead, here at Babcock's Store.
We've got puzzles, cookbooks, too, arts and crafts handmade for you,
Tshirts, jewelry, it's a zoo, here at Babcock's Store.

CH:
We're so glad you stopped by, if just to say "Hi" to all us here,
But to make our day more sunny, just spend some money, and buy a souvenir.
Now you folks all come on back. Bring your friends, bring Uncle Jack.
Get some junk and take a sack home from Babcock's Store.

There you have it. After we quit selling food she revised the first verse a bit and took out the BBQ and ham & cheese part.

I guess she sang that song two or three times a day most days during the busy times. People always loved it.

I still do.
WB

The Newlyweds

I don't know why I thought about this, but I thought you might enjoy the story, too.

We had a lot of couples come through the store that were staying at the area cabins for their honeymoon, or second honeymoon, whatever. So, of course, they would drift on in, and you could always tell - they were holding hands, and hu-u-u-gging, and sneaking little kisses back in the teeshirt corner or in the south room. They didn't know we could see them in the south room. We had a window from the kitchen that looked like a mirror on the southroom side. Good way to keep an eye on things back there.

Anyway, to get back to the story. Whenever they would get back up to the front, I'd ask the new husband how things were going, and if he'd gotten himself a bull whip yet, and I'd get the one I had behind the counter out for him to see. Of course, he said "No". So I would give him some of my long-married advice and tell him, "Son, you need to get a bullwhip. That way you can keep her lined out and you won't have any trouble out of her."

Now, by this time the little woman was beginning to listen to this conversation and noticed that her husband was eating it all up. Her face would get a little frowny and she was beginning to look a little "mad".

"Yep," I'd tell him. "Right after we (I'd point at Joan over at the soda fountain) got married, I got me this bull whip, and shook it at her a couple times and told her, 'from now on this is how things are gonna be around here.' After all the whelps healed up on my back, I say, 'Yes, ma'am, no ma'am', and things are just fine."

Of course, after that the new bride was laughing, and all was well. It would have been great to have a camera around just to catch the expression on the wife's face. A picture is worth a thousand words.

Sorry, all you get is the thousand words. Don't have a picture.

Later, and for you newly marrieds, don't forget the whip!

WB

A Little More of the Story

A lot more pictures have been added to the slide show, so be sure to take a look before you leave.

Thought I'd post a bit more about the store.

One of the most enjoyable things in the old store was the Rinkytink piano that Joan played whenever she had a chance. Whenever a group showed up, we could usually talk her into playing "The Babcock's Store Song" and maybe a chorus or two of the Beer Barrel Polka. We found the old piano north of Mena. It had been used in a little church that had since closed, so we were fortunate enough to be able to buy it. It had a GREAT sound! Perfect for Babcock's Store.

We really enjoyed foliage season, because then the little church buses and CMAers would come by on their way to or from the Talimena Drive looking at the fall colors. They'd come in, get something to drink or an ice cream cone, and Joan would start playing the piano. What singing we had going on. Everyone else in the store would either stop and listen or join right in. It was a great big sing-a-long! Joan always said, "If all I had to do was play the piano and sing with the customers, I'd be a happy camper."

Back by the ladies' room we had a box labeled "WARNING: Baby Rattlers". Folks would happen upon that box, and you'd see them back up, look around, and then tippy-toe up to take a sneaky peek. Then they'd laugh, and then go get someone they were with to show them to. Of course, in the box were three BABY rattles. Pink ones at that.

The news media was always quite good to us. I always said, "if you do something DUMB and STUPID, the media will beat a path to your door to let everyone else know about it." We met many super writers and always tried to give them something good to write about. They did good by us, that's for sure.

So did the Oklahoma Department of Tourism. They came by on their "tour of the state" to check us out. Then they sent the people that stopped by the tourism centers over our way for a visit. Many times visitors told us how we were recommended by the folks at the tourism centers.

Every time a politician came through - county, state, or federal - they were treated to one of our "fantabulous" malts from the Olde Soda Fountain. George Nigh, former Governor of Oklahoma, even appointed me as a Territorial Marshall. Not that it really meant anything since Territorial Marshalls went out with statehood, but the certificate he sent looked real official on the wall by my station, and I actually think that if anyone was contemplating starting a ruckus, when they saw that sign on the wall, and the badge I always wore, they changed their minds. In all our 17 years, we only had a couple "incidents".

Well, I guess that's enough reminiscing for this post.

See ya next time.
wb

The Ferret

I thought of a good story I wanted to tell you about. We had a little box in the store that "housed" a ferret. Joan's Dad got it for us and we had quite a lot of fun showing "him" off.

How it all started was: One year, after we'd been to Wisconsin for a visit to Joan's Mom and Dad's place, Joan had called them to talk, and her Dad got on the phone. He told her that he'd caught a little animal, a baby one, that was orphaned or something like that, and that he knew that she was a sucker for little baby animals (that's a whole other story in itself), so he was going to keep it for her till we got back up there to take it home with us. He said he'd even built a little cage for it, and was feeding it. She told him that she really didn't need anymore animals to take care of, but he really thought she needed to have this little guy.

Well, several months went by, and frankly, we forgot all about the ferret. So, we made another trip to Wisconsin, probably around Christmas time, and first rattle out of the box, Joan's Dad said, "Well, now you can take that ferret home when you go." She couldn't believe that he actually still had the thing, but up from the basement he comes with this cute little cage with wire over the front, sleeping quarters in the back half all enclosed, a little bowl of water, and one of food in it. So, of course, we were GOING to take it back to Oklahoma with us.

Well, Joan said, "Can I see him?" and her Dad told her that he was kinda shy and stayed hidden back in the little house part most of the time. So, he gets him a little stick and gets down there and starts poking the stick in that little hole all the time whistling to it, and trying to coax it out. And THEN, he pulled a little knob on the back of the cage, and this furry thing came FLYING out of that house and leaped right on Joan's chest. SHE ABOUT DIED!!! Her Dad was laughing so hard, and Joan was shrieking, and it was HILARIOUS. That little piece of fur just about caused a train wreck in her shorts.

Anyway, after blessing her Dad out for pulling such a DIRTY, ROTTEN trick on his daughter, we all had a good laugh and began to see the wonderful possibilities for our little ferret at Babcock's Store. I guess her Dad had run out of friends and neighbors to show it to, so now it was our turn.

And, WE HAD A BALL WITH IT!! We did put in on an elastic band so that when it flew out it only went so far. I truly believe we'd have had a major accident if it had been loose. Some folks just don't handle a "furry little beast" flying out of a box and landing on them too well. We just left the little cage sitting on a counter with a sign that read, "Do not touch. Ferret." Of course, everyone wanted to see it.

When son Bert and his wife were living in Oklahoma and helping out in the store, you'd see Bert over there telling some unwary visitor about our little ferret. He'd get poking in that hole, and all at once you'd hear, "HERE 'E COMES!!" Then there would be screams and insane laughter, usually not from the same person. We truly had a great time with that ferret.

So, thanks, Les, for giving us something that was so much fun.
wb

A HISTORY LESSON

Here's a bit of the history of Babcock's Store for you.

Babcock's Store was built in the fall and winter of 1983 and opened for business in April, 1984. It was built, owned, and operated by W.B. "Bill" Babcock and his wife, Joan.

We had retired from the "rat race" in Dallas, Texas and moved to the small rural community of Octavia, Oklahoma in 1982. With nothing to do but fish and hunt, (not a bad thing, actually), however, I decided it was time to go back to work.

Using lumber that had formerly been the old Studebaker Wagon assembly plant in Wills Point, Texas which was originally built in 1882, Babcock's Store finally evolved into a 4500 sq. ft. two-story "tourist trap". The outside appearance was enough to stop the travelers along Hwy. 259, but it was inside the store where the magic happened.

Along with an ample amount of affle-gaffle from the owner (Bill, not Joan), the store boasted an "ol' time soda fountain" which served up malts, shakes, ice cream sodas, and sundaes like you used to get at the corner ice cream parlor. We didn't need gas pumps out front. Once our customers tasted a treat from the soda fountain, they rarely passed by without stopping.

Gifts and gadgets were the main features of Babcock's Store. Our motto was "if you don't have it, you can find it here." We prided ourselves on NOT handling anything a person actually needed. It could be in the antique cases that lined the main floor, hanging on one of the huge beams holding the whole thing up, hung from the ceiling, or hidden under a table. There was stuff EVERYWHERE! There were: coonskin caps, snap-its, OK souvenirs, whooie sticks, doodads, antiques, Smokey Mountain music tapes and CDs, "jams and jellies for your bread", and on and on and on.

The store hours posted on the gate out front were: "Open when the gate is. Closed, ditto." We were closed most major holidays anyway, as there were really more people stopping by than we could handle.

Well, enough history for this post. Will add more later when time permits, and my old brain recollects some more "fascinating" tales of Babcock's Store.

Old Store Remembered - Slideshow

Hi all,

Here are the pictures I promised to post. Hope you enjoy them, and will try to add more as time goes on.