We found a motel room and spent some time seeking the Lord. Your Dad was so positive we were to take both horses. I had never been excited about bringing any of them in the first place, so I silently prayed, "OK Lord, if this is really You, then I want an authentic horse trailer. I don't want to be on the back side of any more scenes like today!"
We had taken the trailer to have it repaired. I guess we went to eat and then picked it up. We slept and then made ready to leave and pick up the horses at 5:00 am. The vet was incredulous. Sioux P still looked as bad as the afternoon before, but she was moving around as though nothing had happened to her. I guess that was our first experience with a miracle. The vet just shook his head and said, "Well, if you want to try it, go ahead. But stop every two hours and take her out for some exercise." I could hardly believe what I saw. Inside I said, "OK God, now where's the new horse trailer?" I didn't get an immediate answer.
We continued on toward Austin. It was Sunday morning and there was very little traffic, and most importantly, no HILLS. We drove slow, but I was a nervous wreck. We arrived in Austin very early. About half-way through town we went by a lot full of horse trailers for sale. Of course, it being Sunday and also quite early, there was no one around. But we stopped to look at them and see if they had any prices on them. They did. One very plain, but sturdy one was right at $1000. I don't remember just what we had with us. I think just a few hundred over that. As we were looking and mulling things over, someone stopped and asked if we were interested in buying. He was a freind of the owner. We said, "yes", and in an hour or so we were on our way with a new horse trailer, still over 1,000 miles to go and less than $500 to see to the needs of two horses, two dogs, and eight people.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Moving to Arizona, Part 2
Early one morning in August 1969 we left Alvin and headed towards Tucson. We had a nice Mercury nine-passenger station wagon that was still fairly new. And we had a used truck your Dad bought. All I remember is that it was white. Your Dad built a cage over the truck bed to put the dogs in and to carry hay for the horses. We sold all the horses but two. Sioux P and the little Galicino, a Spanish breed that is built like a quarter horse, but much smaller.
We didn't have a real horse trailer, but rather a cattle trailer. It was not very sturdy, and was meant for short hauls. It was made of wood slats and did not have a covered top. Dad and Bill were in the truck with our St. Bernard, Cindy, and our little Rat Terrior, Chiggers in the truck bed with the hay. The horses were anchored to the back of the truck in their flimsy trailer. Chiggers had to have tranquilizers because she was terrified of riding in a vehicle. Cindy loved it. I followed in the station wagon. Stephen sat in front with me; all the girls (minus Mary who was headed to school in Missouri) were in the back - Catherine, Barbie, Lea and Missy.
Catherine had just returned from a big Jesus festival in Mississippi and had learned a lot of new choruses. She kept the girls occupied teaching them all her new songs. I kept Stephen in the front becaue he was such a tease and I didn't want to hear the girls railing against him.
I'm sure we stopped for breakfast somewhere. We usually left for trips very early and then ate along the way. We had probably been on the road two or three hours, probably an hour from Austin, when we started down a rather steep incline. Daddy and Bill were in the lead. The trailer began to weave back and forth. The rocking became more violent until they were lurching dangerously and headed toward a ravine at the bottom of the hill. Quite honestly, I panicked. I pulled off the road, threw my arms around the steering wheel, buried my head in my arms and screamed, "Everybody pray in tongues."
I don't know how many minutes passed, or even what made me willing to look up. Maybe one of the kids said everything is OK. When I looked up Daddy had stopped the truck and both it and the trailer were upright. Souix P had been thrown out of the side of the trailer and this had enabled Daddy to get control of the truck. Her lead rope held for a time and she became an anchor as she was dragged along the road.
Daddy and Bill managed to get her back in the trailer and make it up the hill to a filling station. They gave us the name of a vet and we called him. He came out and they were able to tie Souix P to the little Galicino so that he was supporting her. They somehow stabalized everything so we were able to make it to the small farming community just ahead.
Souix P was badly injured. She was skinned to the bones in several places. One hoof was nearly torn off. It was awful -- she looked awful. The vet pur our horses into a small corral with a couple other horses. He began to go all over Sioux P, feeling all her bones and putting some sort of black goo over all the skinned places. The little Galicino took over protecting her. Souix P had been the queen bee, but now the Galicino was the top honcho! He wouldn't let the other horses near her. The vet said there was no way Souix P would be able to make a trip like we were looking at, even if she was able to really heal from all her wounds, and he wasn't sure she would heal. We had planned on taking a month to get out to Tucson.
We made arrangements to meet him at 5:00am the next morning and assess what we should do.
We didn't have a real horse trailer, but rather a cattle trailer. It was not very sturdy, and was meant for short hauls. It was made of wood slats and did not have a covered top. Dad and Bill were in the truck with our St. Bernard, Cindy, and our little Rat Terrior, Chiggers in the truck bed with the hay. The horses were anchored to the back of the truck in their flimsy trailer. Chiggers had to have tranquilizers because she was terrified of riding in a vehicle. Cindy loved it. I followed in the station wagon. Stephen sat in front with me; all the girls (minus Mary who was headed to school in Missouri) were in the back - Catherine, Barbie, Lea and Missy.
Catherine had just returned from a big Jesus festival in Mississippi and had learned a lot of new choruses. She kept the girls occupied teaching them all her new songs. I kept Stephen in the front becaue he was such a tease and I didn't want to hear the girls railing against him.
I'm sure we stopped for breakfast somewhere. We usually left for trips very early and then ate along the way. We had probably been on the road two or three hours, probably an hour from Austin, when we started down a rather steep incline. Daddy and Bill were in the lead. The trailer began to weave back and forth. The rocking became more violent until they were lurching dangerously and headed toward a ravine at the bottom of the hill. Quite honestly, I panicked. I pulled off the road, threw my arms around the steering wheel, buried my head in my arms and screamed, "Everybody pray in tongues."
I don't know how many minutes passed, or even what made me willing to look up. Maybe one of the kids said everything is OK. When I looked up Daddy had stopped the truck and both it and the trailer were upright. Souix P had been thrown out of the side of the trailer and this had enabled Daddy to get control of the truck. Her lead rope held for a time and she became an anchor as she was dragged along the road.
Daddy and Bill managed to get her back in the trailer and make it up the hill to a filling station. They gave us the name of a vet and we called him. He came out and they were able to tie Souix P to the little Galicino so that he was supporting her. They somehow stabalized everything so we were able to make it to the small farming community just ahead.
Souix P was badly injured. She was skinned to the bones in several places. One hoof was nearly torn off. It was awful -- she looked awful. The vet pur our horses into a small corral with a couple other horses. He began to go all over Sioux P, feeling all her bones and putting some sort of black goo over all the skinned places. The little Galicino took over protecting her. Souix P had been the queen bee, but now the Galicino was the top honcho! He wouldn't let the other horses near her. The vet said there was no way Souix P would be able to make a trip like we were looking at, even if she was able to really heal from all her wounds, and he wasn't sure she would heal. We had planned on taking a month to get out to Tucson.
We made arrangements to meet him at 5:00am the next morning and assess what we should do.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Moving to Arizona, Part 1
I thought I would start with Mom's account of moving to Arizona from an early copy of her record in "As I Remember It":
Moving to Arizona was a pretty traumatic affair. Late in the winter of '68/'69 it became apparent that Boeing would be letting quite a few people go during the coming year. Always before when cutbacks had come they affected the labor end of things. This time it was going to affect management. Your Dad [Bill Livingston] was probably going to lose his job sometime in the next few months.
He began looking for another job. I don't remember how many resumes he sent out, or how many places he went for interviews. Always the interviews seemed so positive, and then he would hear nothing or they would write that nothing was open for the moment. By summer we were getting somewhat discouraged, to say the least. Dad flew out to Arizona for interviews with Motorola in Phoenix, and Hughes Aircraft in Tucson.
We arbitrarily chose a time to leave. We felt like we had a word from the Lord to do that. You must remember we were very young in the Lord at that time. But we were willing to jump in with both feet in our new walk with Him. I remember going to Ione's one day and pulling a promise out of the promise box in her kitchen. It was from Isaiah 30:21: "Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, 'this is the way; walk in it.' "
I don't remember the date, but we called a moving company to pack us up, expecting that by the time it was all completed, we would know where to tell them to take everything. In the meantime the possibility in Phoenix was ruled out. Tucson was still open. The date arrived, and we still hadn't heard from Tucson, so your Dad called them and told them that if they decided to offer him a job, they should send the offer to General Delivery in Tucson as we were packing up and heading that way. One thing that stands out in my mind was the peacefulness surrounding all the packing and uncertainty. Moving had always been such a stressful experience. We praised God for this evidence of the Holy Spirit at work in our lives.
Little did we know just what an adventure it was going to turn out to be. I doubt we (or at least I) could have faced it had we known. After all these years I find that most of what I now consider wonderful adventures, I would have turned down had the option been given to me at the first.
Moving to Arizona was a pretty traumatic affair. Late in the winter of '68/'69 it became apparent that Boeing would be letting quite a few people go during the coming year. Always before when cutbacks had come they affected the labor end of things. This time it was going to affect management. Your Dad [Bill Livingston] was probably going to lose his job sometime in the next few months.
He began looking for another job. I don't remember how many resumes he sent out, or how many places he went for interviews. Always the interviews seemed so positive, and then he would hear nothing or they would write that nothing was open for the moment. By summer we were getting somewhat discouraged, to say the least. Dad flew out to Arizona for interviews with Motorola in Phoenix, and Hughes Aircraft in Tucson.
We arbitrarily chose a time to leave. We felt like we had a word from the Lord to do that. You must remember we were very young in the Lord at that time. But we were willing to jump in with both feet in our new walk with Him. I remember going to Ione's one day and pulling a promise out of the promise box in her kitchen. It was from Isaiah 30:21: "Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, 'this is the way; walk in it.' "
I don't remember the date, but we called a moving company to pack us up, expecting that by the time it was all completed, we would know where to tell them to take everything. In the meantime the possibility in Phoenix was ruled out. Tucson was still open. The date arrived, and we still hadn't heard from Tucson, so your Dad called them and told them that if they decided to offer him a job, they should send the offer to General Delivery in Tucson as we were packing up and heading that way. One thing that stands out in my mind was the peacefulness surrounding all the packing and uncertainty. Moving had always been such a stressful experience. We praised God for this evidence of the Holy Spirit at work in our lives.
Little did we know just what an adventure it was going to turn out to be. I doubt we (or at least I) could have faced it had we known. After all these years I find that most of what I now consider wonderful adventures, I would have turned down had the option been given to me at the first.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Beginnings
I am going to be posting some of Mom's letters from the years we lived in Arizona - 1969 thru 1973 - with possible comments and additions, as I remember it or as I was told. This will be an opportunity to document an interesting and challenging time in the Livingston family history, hopefully as part of the Livingston Legacy for generations to come.
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