Lois Aileen Van Valkenburgh

Lois and Matt Ross, 1944 Ruth and Lois Lois Ross Lois Ross Bob, Lois, Norman, and Elsie at Norman's House

Lois was born on February 9th, 1902 in Deer Creek, Grant County, Oklahoma.  Lois' father was Alvin Milford Van Valkenburgh and her mother was Mary (Pinkie) Thomas Herndon.  Her paternal grandparents were Edward Porter Van Valkenburgh and Martha Jane Travis; her maternal grandparents were Jonathan Herndon and Alpharetta (Retta) Hume. She had four brothers and four sisters, named Norman, Glenwood, Alvin, John, Heylin, Ruth, Alpharetta and Paul.  She was the third oldest of the nine children. She had two half-brothers and three half-sisters, named Bill, Meredith, Martha, Mabel and Roberta.  She died at the age of 92 in March 1994.

• General Notes

  Lois was born in Deer Creek. She attended Northwestern University in Evanston, IL and graduated from Southwestern College in Winfield, KS. She received a Masters Degree from the University of Wyoming. She was a teacher for many years in Wyoming, Kansas, and California.
  
  She moved to Los Angeles and married Matthew Ross, after meeting him in Wyoming. He was an engineer working on the Wind River Dams project near Riverton, and she was teaching at an Indian school. The people of the town where she taught built a house for her.
  
  Lois lived in Los Angeles until 1973 when she moved to Pasadena, California to live with her sister Alpha, who had moved from New York City. In Pasadena Lois was a member and elder of San Marino Presbyterian Church. Lois and Alpha moved to Tulsa in 1989.
  
  Lois was an avid reader of non-fiction books and articles, particularly of the Southwestern United States. She was outstanding at crossword puzzles and word games.
  
  Lois is mentioned in the Annals of Wyoming, Vol 20 No 1 and Vol 65 No 4.
  
  --------------------------------------
  The Herndons
  By Lois
  Several of the younger generation of our family have asked for more information about the family, particularly our mother's family and background. Since she died at age 39, and her mother when I was about 10, my memories of the Herndons and Humes are sketchy. Too, my sisters may have different versions of the same stories. So these are my random recollections of Mama and Papa and our early childhood.
  
  Grandfather Herndon came to Oklahoma from Strasbourgh, Missouri, I think. He was a twin, and the youngest of a fairly large family. The story was told that of two older brothers, one fought for the Union and one for the Confederacy. Missouri and Kentucky were border states, and were subject to raids by lawless band of men who looted, killed, and took advantage of the unsettled state of the country.
  
  Alpha and I knew one of Grandpa's brothers in Kansas City -- Great Uncle Ned who was a doctor. He was a dear, gentle old man, and was cared for by a devoted niece, Bessie Quinn.
  
  Grandpa (Jonathan) Herndon married Retta Hume. Both were of Scottish descent -- probably of those who came to America in the early 1800's, settled in the southern Tidelands, and gradually moved westward into Kentucky, Missouri, and Oklahoma.
  
  Retta Hume had one brother, Granville, who we all knew and loved. He had two sons, Benjamin and Stewart. Uncle Granville Herndon was named for him -- two beautiful, gentle men.
  
  Grandpa and Grandma had four sons and one daughter. The oldest son, Hume, died when a lad, probably from appendicitis. Mary Thomas was next in age. When she was born Grandpa said, "I don't care what you name her, I'm going to call her "Pinkie, " and that is the name she always went by.
  
  Her parents moved to Oklahoma Territory, probably soon after the Cherokee Strip was opened to settlers. Their farm was near the small town of Pond Creek, the first county seat of Grant County.
  
  Mama was a typical pioneer girl I expect. She was given an organ when she was sixteen and taught herself to play it. She also played the guitar. She attended the local school, but later attended a Normal school and taught the country school in the district. I taught in Pond Creek in 1921 and knew a man there who had gone to school to Miss Pinkie. In the meantime Papa had run in the opening of the Cherokee Strip and was living on his homestead six miles west of Pond Creek.
  
  It was a sparsely settled community, and as in most such communities, people depended on each other for amusements, aid, and communication. Somewhere Alvin met Pinkie and they fell in love. Papa was a dashing looking young blade with shiny black hair and flowing mustache. They were married in the little sod Baptist church just west of Papa's farm.
  
  They lived in the house Papa had built on the claim, and that is where Heylin and Norman were born. Before my birth in February 1902, the family had moved to Deer Creek. The town was young, tough, and wide open. Papa had a draying service, and later bought cream from the farmers, hides, etc. and shipped them out.
  
  Mama and Papa took part in the social activities of the town. Mama made afternoon calls, did embroidery and burnt wood articles, took part in the church events, and had a baby about every year and a half. She also took piano lessons and played quite well. We loved to have her play her guitar and sing to us in her lovely clear soprano voice. Any musical talent any of us may have stems from our mother. She had a wonderful sense of humor, as did Papa. Pinkie's brothers adored her, and thought Pinkie's children were the cutest ever. They played and romped with us and we loved them dearly. Mama was an Eastern Star, and I remember oyster suppers and ice cream socials where we youngsters were left to play in an outer room while "the work" was being put on in the chapter hall.
  
  I said she as remarkable, and she was, in the sense that she read and encouraged her children to read. She was not afraid to try new ideas for her home or community. Both she and Papa read aloud to us a great deal.
  
  Mama certainly encouraged us as children to do things for ourselves. We had lots of fun as children. Everyone then had to make his own amusement. In the summer we had water fights -- but we pumped the water into tubs, let it warm in the sun, and fought with cups and buckets. Before the drought killed them all there were large maple trees in our yard. We climbed all over them, and had a trapeze bar across two sturdy limbs as well as various swings. I loved to take my doll, climb to the top of a tree, and sing. In the winter we could make molasses taffy, skate, and play in the snow.
  
  It wasn't all fun: each one had his own chores to do after school. Heylin took turns getting breakfast and supper and doing the dishes after. I hated dishes. Norman brought in coal and wood for the cook stove before gas came to Deer Creek. Papa usually had something for the boys to do. When I was in late grade school natural gas was brought into town and we had gas lights and gas to cook and heat with. No city water or electricity until after I left home.
  
  Someone (usually me) would get sick with some contagious illness and the entire family was quarantined. Papa brought smallpox to us from the Christian Church revival meeting. I wasn't very sick with it, and Norman had a natural immunity to most diseases, so he and I roamed our large yard and had great times. One highlight was the discovery of a nest of very rotten eggs. We climbed on top of the chicken house and threw them all, one by one, across the road into Mr. Yadon's field.
  
  All six of us had measles at one time, and Mama took care of us while Papa escaped to his work. Norman and I were good pals. I had scarlet fever when I was five, so Mama kept Norman at home and started us both in the first grade together. We were seated together, and shared desks all through grade and high school. Heylin had two years in Blackwell High School, and Norman and I looked forward to the same experience. However, each year another grade was added to Deer Creek High School, so we were in the first graduating class, 1919.
  
  Mama died in 1918 when John was born, and I had just had my 16th birthday. Our lives were quite different after that. I think we had a very happy childhood, and I wouldn't have missed growing up in a small town for anything.
  
  by Lois Van Valkenburgh Ross
  

Details of Lois' family with Matthew Smith Ross