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Memories of Growing Up at the Choctaw Agency
I have been asked if I would do a little write up on my family and where I was born. I have given this much thought and decided that I would give it a try.First in a Series by Jim Foster, December 9, 2008. I was the only child of my Mom and Dad, but was the 13th child of my Dad's and the 9th child for my Mother, making me have 20 half brothers and sisters. I grew up with just 3 of my sisters on my Mom's side and not knowing a lot about the rest of them. I was born in the 1940's, in an old log house that set on the side of a hill, on the old Robinson Road, at a place that was long ago called Choctaw Agency. Now it's just Agency, MS, about 3 miles from Oktoc. The old house had low hanging logs. It was told to me by my Mother that my Doctor was almost 7' tall, and with the old oil lamps that we had back then, he spent most of the night rubbing the knots on his head from bumping it on the logs. The Doctor was Dr. Dodds from Starkville. My Father was born in 1888, making him in his mid 50's when I came along. He was also blind and was crippled because he had been robbed, beaten, and thrown off a rail road bridge in to the river and left him for dead. My Dad was a tough little man, with somewhat red skin and a voice to go with it. He talked a lot about the Native Americans and his great-grandmother, who was Creek Indian, and his family from AL. But you know how that is when you are young, I just wish I would have listened. My dad was blind but he still worked and did whatever he could do, like working in the fields, cutting wood and milking the cows …. Bell, the mean one, Easter, Daisy, Minnie, and then there was Ole Bully. He really was a good old Bull and the only time he would put up a big fight was on some of those really foggy mornings when my Dad would go out to milk and the bull, in trying to get him some of that sweet feed that was for the cows, would end up in the barn and would be helping himself to a good meal, until my Dad would set down on his stool to milk! Then things could get to be really funny! We always new what had happened when we could see Ole Bully standing out in the barnyard, looking back at the door. Then my Dad coming out, all covered in mud and no milk left in his bucket. Ole Bully, if I can remember, and I think I can, belonged to Mr. Fred Blocker. I think at one time he rented out bulls! My Dad was really funny, and after getting over his mad spell, would laugh about it to. Jim Foster
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