Henrietta, Texas: In our town, perhaps the grandest house belonged to Paul Hawkins, where he lived with his wife and three pretty daughters: Paula, Shara, and Kay.
The house was grand because Paul was the town’s Undertaker.
Much of that grand house was for storing bodies, preparing bodies, and holding services for bodies. At my grandmother’s service, my stern-faced grandfather broke down. “Maud! Maud!” He called her name over and over, reaching out for her. It was wrenching, having to draw him away. His mind had been addled by a fall from the horse; that was a part of her death, but that’s another story.
With compassion and with grace, Paul Hawkins dealt with such things. A thin, hyper-active fellow, he’d also turned the extensive once-stables behind the house into a shop, and restored antique furniture. I don’t think he needed the money; I think he needed to always stay busy.
And so, his entry in the Pioneer Reunion …
The Pioneer Reunion, in October, that’s rodeo season in Texas, and the biggest event in Henrietta. We schoolkids loved it, already chafing from the schooldays. A parade every day, rodeo every night, dances afterward, and during the days, free barbeque, art shows, and fiddling contests on the courthouse lawn.
On the first day, the parade is just the ‘Horse Parade’. That is, the parade consists of different groups of ‘riding clubs’, riding through our town’s streets, on horses. Who are these riding clubs? Why did they have a club to ride horses?
I wish I’d thought to ask these questions then, long ago. But then, the fish probably never thinks to question the water.
The horse parade always left horse poop on the street, which gave the marching bands something to consider on the next morning. Usually our own high-school band and two or three others from neighboring townships, plus officials waving from cars from the dealership, and … floats!
The floats are a big competition. For about three weeks before the event, volunteers from civic groups build frameworks around jeeps, then put in flooring, then cover the whole thing in crepe paper. Add children or girls in costumes, bingo bango bongo, a float!
Paul Hawkins was Henrietta’s foremost float-builder. He always offered space and shop tools for some float, I think maybe Kiwanis Club, but he also built his own, invariably named Paul’s Sweethearts, and upon this float rode the three daughters Paula, Shara, and Kay, waving like queens.
“You’ll never notice fringe on the saddle of a galloping horse.”
Paul Hawkins had design theories. Some worker worries about there being too-little crepe-paper fringe. Paul shakes his head, saying, “You’ll never notice fringe on the saddle of a galloping horse.” Meaning not to worry, it needn’t look perfect. I wonder, now I think about it, about how he prepared the bodies for the open-casket ceremonies.
Except when professionally grave, so to speak, he was always jovial. Always a smile, always sharp-witted, often joking and joshing, and good friends with most everybody. Maybe he had to be. But even so, it amazed me then and now that everybody liked Paul Hawkins. He was especially great pals with our dentist, and my uncle, the long-time town doctor.
Doctor Hurn, my uncle was called. As a child I never called him “Uncle Robert.” Nor did any of my cousins. Growing up, we knew him as Uncle Doc.
Uncle Doc and Paul Hawkins were great friends. Maybe they worked on floats together. Maybe it was from being in the Minstral Show all those years. Maybe it was from Uncle Doc passing off former clients to become Paul’s new clients.
So when Paul needed some serious surgery, he asked Uncle Doc to do it. Uncle Doc hesitantly agreed. And then, on the day of the surgery, as they wheeled Paul in a wheelchair down the hall, to show his appreciation, as they neared the surgery door he started yelling — so that everybody in the hospital could hear — yelling at my Uncle Doc.
“I’ve changed my mind!” yelled Paul. “I’m not going! Don’t wheel me in there! You’ll kill me!”
He paused, and then, with an evil grin, as they wheeled him through the doorway, he called out once again.
“Our partnership is off! You hear me? Our partnership is off!”
Hey Dickie French, The Hawkins girls are Paula, Shara, and Kay. PaULA IS THE ELDEST, then Kay and last is Shara. Thanks for compliments. The Hawkins Girls are now 76, 74, and 73. Paula and I live in Austin and Shara in St Louis. Paula married to Tom Sessions I married and divorced from Ronnie Nolen, now deceased, and Shara to Paul Howell, also deceased. My children are in Austin and Midland. Breck’s son, Stratton Nolen, a much renowned golfer on scholarship at Oklahoma State University. I am still loving Austin and retired for 15 years. Look Stratton up on internet. Hope this finds you well and happy. Kay Hawkins Nolen
Hello, Kay,
Gosh, nice to hear from you, and sorry to hear about Paul Howell, who was a buddy of mine. We shared housing at North Texas State University, living in Shady Shores on the edge of Lake Dallas, nearby. Search for “Shady Shores” on this weblog to read more, and in particular, you might like this one entitled “Band of Thieves.”
Last time I saw you was at a Class Reunion in Henrietta, many years ago. You drove up outside the place where the Reunion was in a Cadillac. It was nice to see you then, and nice to hear from you now. God bless you, Kay.
Sounds like the Hawkins girls are alive and well as well as my old friend Richard French. Keep me up to date. I talk to Glen Patterson quite a bit and email Suzanne (Chadwick) and James Green frequently. I’m still here in Dallas with wife and kids retired and painting pictures.
Richard, how’s the Megatar doing?
Hardy Martin
Found this while on the road home. Planning to drive my boys through Henrietta to see Hita and Paulty’s house S well as Manaw and Pepaws. I had such great childhood memories of my bigger than life grandparents. There was never a dull moment with them. They were amazing! I loved reading this to my 3 boys!
Tiffani Nolen Hester (Kays baby)
Growing up, I had fun times on the Hawkins property, in the house, in the repair shop. Yes, and seeing Paul’s Sweethearts on a float every year. Good memories of the place and your family. Nice to hear from you.
These two people, Dr Hurn and Mr Hawkins, were a part of my life from the beginning. Dr Hurn delivered be in 1949. My grandmother, Mrs Cora Thomas, laundried Mr Hawkins white shirts in 50-60’s and I got to help with that chore. I dreamed if I could starch and iron a shirt as well as her there would never be a poor day. We would sometimes walk and deliver the laundry to the big old house and visit for awhile.
In mid 60’s my mother, Sis, and I worked at the LoBoy and Doyal Davis, Bradly Kimbrough and Don Gross were in high school and worked with Mr Hawkins. It was always a treat to see them. I had the impression as a 12-14 old that I was very special because I knew these wonderful/interesting folks. Great memories. Thank you for the story.
Linda Galliton, I remember your name. Did we know each other back then? I was one or two years younger than Doyle, Bradly, and Don. I was Richard French then. It’s funny how memories are sometimes dim, and sometimes crisp and bright. I wonder how accurate they are. And … it’s good to hear from you. I’m glad you enjoyed the story. Perhaps there are some other ones here you might enjoy. (You can use the search box and just enter “Henrietta” to pull up a bunch of them.)
Yes Richard. My mom “sis” and I worked at LoBoy from ‘60-‘72 or so. I was around during your band years so I could not help but remember you. My maiden name was Henderson.
Hope you’re doing well.
Hi, Linda, I had forgotten that you worked at the LoBoy, but it’s nice to hear from you! Hope all is well with you and yours.
Well Richard I was a few years younger than you, but you were famous in the folk storytelling of school. As I remember, you were one of the best drum majors Henrietta ever. My mom (Sis) cooked at Lo’Boy and I carhopped (I started when I was 12) through Junior and Senior High. So I’m sure you remember me from there.
Hi, Linda!
Yes, I remember you, though it’s been a very long time. You had an older brother as I recall, but I’m blanking out on his name: Paul, maybe?
And, oh yes, the Lo’ Boy was a fave hangout for all of us, so I knew your mom and you from there.
You’ll find many other stories about Henrietta here, just search “henrietta” and they’ll pop up.
It’s great to hear from you!
— Arthur (was Richard, once upon a time) 🙂
No I’m an only child. Hope everything is still ok with you.
It has been busy the last few years. Good and a lot of bad but I’m still here. Guess Good Lord not ready for me yet.
Do you ever come to Henrietta?
I saw Ray Hoenstien few years ago and didn’t recognize him. Lots of fun there!
I’d very much love to see Henrietta, but haven’t been back since, I think, 1981. Kind of a long time ago. I’d love to see some of my old friends, but I know that many are gone. Some moved, some passed away. Sucks.
Glad you’re well. Sure nice to hear from you.
Richard,
Please come the last week in September. Most of classes have a reunion. I would love to show you off at ours. Class of ‘68
What a fun read. My grandparents Lloyd and Ella Prewitt lived a cross the street from the Hawkins. I spent a lot of time playing there especially with Kay. My maiden name was Kay Callison, and I lived in Wichita Falls but loved spending time there. I am now Kay McCrea and live in Wichita, Kansas.
I was just a year or two younger than Kay, and if I ever met you, I’m now unaware of it. The Prewitts is a familiar name from way back then. I’m delighted that you came across my Bloggard story about the Hawkins. I knew Paul and his wife and three daughters once upon a time, and their family friends, the Martins (he was the town dentist) and their two daughters. It’s wonderful to hear from you! Thanks for your note!
Richard
Please come the last week in September. Most classes have reunions during the Clay County Pioneer Reunion.
I would love to show you off at our Class of ‘68
Linda Henderson Galliton
Hi, Linda,
How kind of you to invite me! Thank you!
But alas, it is not to be, at least not this year. First, because for mysterious reasons, I never saw your nice invitation until October 9th. Secondly, as I’m busy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs right now. And third because I missed my chance to go visit my buddy, Eddie Frank Scheer. I always thought we’d have a chance to compare notes, but he checked out with Covid this year, dammit! (I’ve been trying to reach him on the phone since February, but never succeeded.)
And so, again, thanks for the invite. I wish I could, but not an option just now. Maybe next time. Thanks again!
–Arthur Cronos (aka Richard French, class of ’61)