This area was prairie, with all kinds of wildflowers, a veritable fairyland. There was a small running stream, a tributary of Peak’s Branch, directly back to our lot. We would lean over the back fence and crawfish any time that we wanted to. For bait we used some fatback tied to a string or sometimes we used pieces of bologna. This fence bounded the chicken yard. As we caught the crawfish, we would put them in a washtub, about half filled with water. Then after mamma came home from the office she would dump the tub and the crawfish would crawl all over the chicken yard in all directions. Most of them would get back to the creek for us to catch again. The chickens were always frightened, as they would pick up and eat some of the crawfish.
In a few years a culvert was put through directly back of our house, but it was a number of years before the stream was completely taken care of. We continued to fish at the end of the culvert, between Tremont, at that time called Crutcher Street, and Prairie. Then when I used to take care of the younger neighborhood children, nothing was more interesting than to take them wading and crawfishing.
This creek meandered around and across the present Butler Park and met a second creek on the grounds of Davy Crockett School. Wild grapevines grew in the trees along the banks of the ravines. And it was fun swinging across; sometimes the big girls would take one of us smaller girls by the hand and run and jump. This was lots of fun, but very scary. About a block or so south was the old swimming hole where the boys skinny-dived. It was absolutely off limits, off limits to the girls. Culverts eventually covered both creeks and Peak’s Branc; many, many loads of dirt filled in and leveled the school yard. The glamour and fun were lost forever.
She is buried next to her father at Oakland Cemetery.
Courtesy Reminiscences: A Glimpse of Old East Dallas.