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Pearl’s husband, Arthur Ashburn, was killed in a truck accident when Betty
was only 5 months-old, and the telegram that came advising the Ashburn
family of Mr. Ashburn’s death was sent to Miss Conway’s home on East Cedar
Street. It was Miss Conway who had the misfortune of having to deliver the
bad news about the death of Arthur Ashburn to his family in the Oak Grove
Community, which is located between Livingston and Alpine.
After her father’s death, Betty and her mother would spend at least one
night a week in Miss Conway’s home.
The furniture in the parlor of the Conway home was kept covered with
newspapers and sheets, and Betty told me the bed she slept in had a
mattress she remembers being made out of straw and feathers, and the bed
itself sat very high off the floor.
When it was bedtime at Miss Conway’s house, Betty’s mother would pull a
chair up next to the bed so Betty could climb up on the chair and then
onto the bed. In the winter months when she and Mrs. Ashburn would come
for a visit with Miss Conway, after having supper, they would spend the
time before retiring for the night sitting near the fireplace that was in
the bedroom.
A
kerosene lamp provided the light they had. Betty told me before going to
bed, she would help Miss Conway make sure the bantam chickens were “tucked
in for the night”.
Betty loved the big, old-fashioned kitchen in Miss Conway’s home, and she
liked using the hand pump to get water from the well on the back porch.
Miss Conway would sometimes take Betty out to the little garage building
in the yard of her house so she could see the car she also kept covered
with quilts. After they carefully uncovered the car, Betty was allowed to
look at the car, but she was always reminded by Miss Conway not to touch
it.
Betty told me the weekly visits with Miss Conway were always a real
adventure for her, something she looked forward to each time.
I
was also very happy to receive in the mail a letter from another former
Overton County resident, Bettye J. (Barnes) Zaitzeff, who now lives in
Campbell, CA, a small town located not too far from San Jose. Bettye also
had some information to share with me about her friendship with Miss
Conway.
Part of her letter to me reads as follows, “My mother and I visited Miss
Conway there (East Cedar Street home), but I also remember the old house
in the cove on the way to Oak Grove, near the cave where we went on
picnics. That is where I remember the bantams, and where she may have
saved my life.
“I
was running down a little hill while I was eating an apple she had given
me. When I got choked, my mother was in a panic because I was turning
blue. Miss Conway picked me up by the heels, gave me a good whack on the
back, and dislodged the piece of apple. That was probably around 1932 or
so.
“Probably another year or so later, my family was in town for the Fourth
of July activities when we saw Miss Conway parked on the square in her
black shiny car. I remember looking at my reflection in the fender and
rubbing it gently with my hand to remove a speck of dust. Miss Conway
asked my mother to tell me to stop because she was afraid I’d mar the
surface. The things I remember about the East Cedar house were the
paintings and the hanging biscuits.
“Your article brought back so many good memories – thank you!”
Hopefully this
won’t be the last story that turns up about Miss Conway. She has been a
very inspiring person to write about and should there be other stories
someone else has to share with me, I will surely pass them along.
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