A Landmark Falls---Posted: July 17, l999

( The following event took place at 12:15 pm on April 15, 1997 )

The dismantling of the old water tower on Main Street drew a huge crowd. People brought their kids and their camcorders in anticipation of watching the top of the tower crash to the ground. It landed with a thunderous groan, almost like it was sorry to leave its long time perch above the town. I, for one, will never forget that sound. It was all over in seconds. The story made The Jal Record, along with an excellent picture of the top of the tower as it was falling, forever caught in midair.

A really monumental moment in Jal's history, you scoff. Get a life, you say. Well, stop and think about it. That water tower had stood there for as long as I can remember watching over our little town-a sentinel, of sorts. No one ever really paid much attention to it, unless of course it was running over and the wind blew droplets of water on you or your car as you went to the Post Office, but it was there nonetheless, and now it is not.

That whole block is now covered with well manicured grass. New trees have been planted here and there, and it now has a couple of brightly covered benches complete with covers. Various town happenings take place there like the lighting of the town tree at Christmas, and all in all, it is a pleasant place here in our little desert town. At least the old jail building is still there, for now

Postscript: The water tower was given to my brother free if he would haul it off, so he had his guys take it out to the old Cooper ranch that my dad leases, to make a water tank for his cows. As far as I know, they haven't done it yet.

Sandra Fulfer Peugh '65

Drive to Eunice--- Posted: July 1, 1999

One fine, warm summer night Cinda Cunningham and I decided we would just drive over to Eunice and check things out there. I don't recall that we had permission, exactly, but we went anyhow. We were in the Cunningham's family car, a 50 something monster Buick. I call it a monster because Cinda being a not very tall person always made me think of her managing a monster when she drove it. Anyway, we were zipping along and just as we got to the carbon black plant we had a blowout. Well, we couldn't find any of the paraphernalia used to change a flat, and probably couldn't have done it anyway, so we walked over to the carbon black plant to search for help. There was a car there, but no person to go with it, so we walked back to the highway, and after a while a man driving an eighteen wheeler stopped to see if he could help us. And sure enough, he sure could help.

He got us back on the road again in a short time and we went on to Eunice with no spare tire and feeling no fear. It was only on the way back home that we started feeling afraid. Was it because we were thinking what could have happened to us, like being murdered or kidnapped or worse? No, it was none of those reasons, it was because we were afraid that Cinda's dad was going to kill her for ruining a tire! Most teenagers feel invincible, but for us growing up in the 50's and 60's it was more than that. We had an unconscience sense of security that came from everyone knowing us and who we belonged to, and because our parents very seldom locked up the house, and because our parents didn't seem to be excessively worried if we were a few minutes late getting home. You could even leave your keys in your car overnight and be fairly confident that it would still be there in the morning.

Well, nowadays, I lock up my house when I leave, even though there are still some who don't, but mine has been broken into twice, and I even lock my car most of the time when I go into the Post Office or the grocery store. But the most important change is that if my son is ten minutes late getting home, I go into Pre Panic Mode, and if he is going to be any later he best be calling mama because you can bet mama will be out looking for him. We just have to keep track of our kids, and I don't want to sound preachy, because the reasons are obvious to all of us. We hear them on the news every night.

Sandra Fulfer Peugh  '65

The D-Bar and Draggin' Main ---Posted 06/29/99:

I never dreamed when I was a teenager that I would someday live directly behind what was then called the D-Bar. The building, now the D&N Cafe, is of course, still there, but gone are the car hops, teenagers parking sometimes three cars deep, and staying open until 10:00 PM or so, but the tin canopy is still there and as long as it is you can conjure up some fond (and sometimes not so fond) memories. Remember lime on the rocks (WITH salt), making the drag, which took all of five minutes,KOMA on the radio, and checking out who was out and about, and most importantly, with whom? Amazing how many miles were put on the family's '59 Pontiac. Once, my dad wrote the mileage in the dust on the dash, (imagine that, dust on the dash) to check out how many miles we actually did put on the car in one night. Needless to say, after I was informed of this little maneuver, we had the cleanest dash in town. I wonder if Twilla Cox remembers disconnecting the odometer and then when she reconnected it, every time we turned on the left signal light, the horn would honk? Had my dad bumfuzzled for years. I only confessed this one a few years ago, and sorry, Twilla, I named you as accomplice. The family car was not the only vehicle that suffered though, my grandmother's pink Rambler station wagon saw lots of action, also. Once, a bunch of us sneaked off to Kermit and, ah,well, that is a whole "nother" story....

Sandra Fulfer Peugh '65

The Rex Theater---Originally Posted 06/27/99 on the Hot Times in the Old Town page.

I remember summers and the Rex very vividly. My grandmother always "went to town" in the evenings to visit with Mrs. Curtis and others who seemed to gather at her store, and grandpa would go to the pool hall. My brother and I ran up and down the sidewalk or we went to the show. The Rex was my refuge, my place to let my imagination run wild with all those magical movies. I don't remember any rodents and certainly no balcony, but I do remember sitting as close to the screen as I could get with a sack of popcorn and a Coke and tuning out the world until the lights came on and I had to leave. We always walked back to the newsstand and grandma would send me or my brother into the pool hall to retrieve grandpa and then we would go home. This same thing happened at least three times a week and sometimes more. Seems as though I never missed the Sunday show as I got older. By then there were different reasons for going and all the girls wore their pretty church dresses and high heels and we all thought we were so grown up. Those were the simple times, and when the show burned it really seemed to take a part of all of us with it. I bet everyone remembers at least one time at the old Rex.

Sandra Fulfer Peugh '65