A ‘favorite daughter’ shares ‘Memoirs of Carl Bates’

Note: This is the second of a multi-part series on the life and times of a well-known Clinton County native, Carl Bates. He lived in the Elsie area for many years of his life, and is perhaps best remembered for the 20 years he served as Superintendent of the Clinton County Intermediate School District, retiring in 1969.

These ‘Memoirs’ are presented in his own words, written in his latter years – and, as he says at the conclusion, retyped and appreciated by his "favorite and oldest daughter," Dorothy (Bates Bakita)." The copy and photographs are provided courtesy of Dorothy Bakita – who herself served for many years as a teacher at St. Johns Public Schools.

Memoirs of Carl Bates: Part II

Shortly after brother’s return from service, he entered Alma College and met his wife-to-be, Henrietta Parker. The name Parker was a prominent name in Saginaw. Her father started and operated the Parker Dairy in Saginaw which was later taken over by one or both of her brothers. This dairy is no longer in business. Henrietta (now deceased) had one sister and two brothers.

My brother started his professional life in Grand Rapids with the Grand Rapids Herald newspaper under former Senator Vandenburg. In due time, he moved to Saginaw to become associated with the Saginaw Daily News, Editorial Department, until his retirement, some 15 or 20 years ago. At the moment, he is 83 years old and doing just fine.

I find it just a little difficult to know what to write about my Dad. Through my eyes, he had so many good qualities as a man and a father, that I don’t know where to start. Dad was a disciplinarian in his way. He did not believe that it was necessary to call his boys only once in the morning to get up and do their farm chores, or to do anything else that he assigned them to do. But, as I look back on my younger days, he was more liberal with what he allowed us to do than I would have been as a father to a couple of boys. Case in point: boys shot the nail heads off the nails in the corn crib to the extent that as I look back, I am now surprised that the corn did not push the boards off the building. We shot the windmill fan so full of holes with our 22s, that it looked like a sieve. There was never a reprimand.

I remember that about 1918 or 1919, we owned a Ford automobile and I was assigned the top buggy (a good buggy) and on one Sunday morning in the fall, I hitched our driving horse to said buggy and drove one-half mile west, one-half mile north, and then a half-mile west down Jesse Steinbower’s lane. The last 40 rods was across a pastured fallow where trees had been, but the stumps were still there. I tied the horse with one of the lines and went another 40 rods to a nice woods to go squirrel hunting.

When I returned from hunting, I had the bridle and the two lines; but the horse and buggy were gone. I back tracked the road home and found nothing, having high hopes that all was well, until I turned in our yard and there was the buggy tipped over, seat and top torn off the box, and a continual line of buggy pieces clear to the barn. My Dad was present at the scene, and he said, "Well, I hope you have got it the way you want it," and that’s all.

My Dad’s word was a good as any legal document that could be drawn up by any modern attorney. I don’t recall ever sitting down with Dad and having a long winded talk about life, but I can recall a lot of one liner bits of advice that Dad came up with, usually while we were working together.

Just a few samples:

"If you owe a man some money as of July 1, you don’t owe him anything until July 1, but either on July 1 or the day before, pay him. A week or two before July 1 if you anticipate that you are going to have trouble meeting the obligation, go to him, explain your situation, and see if you can work out something. If not, make some other arrangements to meet your obligations. Don’t try to dodge him until he catches you."

Hauling milk

"If you hire out to a man to work, just remember that if you don’t earn yer salary and a profit for him, yer job isn’t worth a damn."

"When you hire out, settle the wage issue; and if you take the job, give him yer best or quit."

"If you tell a man that you will meet him at a certain place at a specified time, be there unless you break yer leg or have a heart attack."

If I wanted to meditate a while, I think I could come up with 50 of these bits of wisdom that Dad has offered to me over the years.

My respect for my Dad and what he really stood for continued to grow all the way through his life. I doubt if there are very many fathers and son combinations that had a greater respect and love for each other than that shared by my Dad and myself. I recollect that in his latter years, he was living with me and had to go to the hospital for a time. When we returned to Elsie, I drove around the block that his house was in before taking him to my house. As he walked in, he said, "Carl, you are so good to me." I tried at times to say nice things to him; sure I could have done better. My Dad, in my life, will always be a great man.

My wife, Beulah, came from a farm family, maiden name Cumberworth. Beulah was the oldest of three daughters born to Roy and Laura Cumberworth. There was Beulah, Beatrice, and Doris. These girls lived with different families in Ithaca and got their High School education there. Beulah and Beatrice together, went to Ypsi to college and obtained their Life Teaching Certificates, and I guess each of them taught about 20 years. Doris attended a business college in Lansing and later worked several years as a secretary in Lansing.

Beulah had the only granddaughter born to the Cumberworths (Dorothy). After graduating from Elsie High School, Dorothy entered college one year behind her boy friend, Steve Bakita. They came down to a field where I was working and informed me that they had decided to get married, as she displayed her ring. They both emerged in the spring of 1960 with Bachelor Degrees and teachers certificates, and both took teaching assignments in Stanton for their first jobs. Some three or four years later, a boy, Todd (spitting image of his dad) was born and then in about a couple of years, along came Todd’s sister, Dawn, of which he was very proud.

Roy and Laura, my wife’s parents, I think represented the average farmer of the times. I recollect while I was in Michigan State, studying Vocational Agriculture, that I asked Roy if he kept books on his farming operation and he said, "No".

I asked him why and he said, "If I loose money on some enterprise, I don’t want to

see it plastered all over a sheet of paper."

I think they found their recreation about the same as the typical farmers of that era did; neighborhood activities and friends. Roy died suddenly, a stroke.

Roy had one brother that lived on a farm west of Perrington, name of Ralph Cumberworth. I recollect that I was over there one Sunday for dinner and Ralph’s wife told a story on Ralph that I liked. At the time, they only kept about one or two cows to keep them supplied with butter and table milk. Ralph used to go out in the barnyard with a one-legged milk stool and pail, walk up to this cow, sit down on his stool, and put the pail between his knees and milk the cow. His wife looked out there once, and there sat Ralph on his one-legged stool with the milk pail between his knees, sound asleep. Cow had long since given up and walked away.

Ralph apparently had some surplus money during the 1930 depression, and on that given Sunday afternoon he took us for a ride. It seemed like four or five times, as we were passing a farm, he would say, "I own that farm." In that area all the land is good, but his farms alluded to always looked run down. I am sure he acquired them at random as distressed situations, mortgage foreclosures, tax defaults, etc. I doubt if Ralph is alive today, but if he is and still owns what real estate he showed me, he is a lot wealthier today than he was then. Roy also had a sister, Viva, married Maynard Dodge, an undertaker in Middleton. Another sister, Eda White, lived on a farm near Fowler.

Laura had one sister and two brothers. Sister and husband were schoolteachers down in the southwestern part of the state. One brother Thomas, I think, lived on one of the larger Ohio cities. Believe he had charge of one of those large cemeteries. Can’t think at the moment what the other brother’s name was or where he lived or what he worked at. I am quite sure there is such a man, but I never met those people only a few times many years ago. They were all good, honorable, progressive people as I knew them. Laura (Stitt Cumberworth) in her last years divided up the year in equal parts and went from one of her girl’s houses to another. Think it turned out to be a pretty fair arrangement. Emily Stitt (mother of Laura) wrote quite an extensive memoir of her life, that I think Dorothy has a copy of. Probably it fills in the vacuum above quite well.