Yes I remember what my mother, my brother Gilbert, and my sister May told me about when grandma and grandpa came and settled in Indian Territory, which is now a part of the state of Oklahoma, soon after the Civil War. They settled on Blackgum Mountain near where Tenkiller Dam is today in Sequoyah County, more than 100 years ago.  Some of my relatives have lived near that location since that time.  

      Gilbert Wesley Wilson joined the Confederate Army and fought with the South.  They lived in New Lyndon, Texas, which is located in the Eastern part of that great state.  He left the fields of battle and the army shortly before the war was over when he was wounded in the right leg.  A Yankee bullet found its mark and crippled him for life. 

      Before Grandpa was discharged from the Civil War he fought in the Battle of Pea Ridge in Arkansas.  While in that area grandpa’s commanding officer sent him as a messenger to General Stan Watie who was at Tahlequah.  He spent two or three days in the hilly country near where Tenkiller Dam is located today.  It was during this time he found a large spring overflowing with water.  Grandpa realized the spring could furnish enough water for one hundred head of cattle, a dozen horses, and still have enough water for household use.  He decided when he got out of the war, he was going to settle there and build a house near the spring. 

      Grandpa was part Cherokee Indian.  He had kept up with what was taking place and knew that Indians of the Five Civilized Tribes were settled within this territory and that he as a Cherokee could settle on Cherokee land, build a house, and it would be his as long as he lived.  Should he die, his family would continue to own the property.   

      After the Civil War was over, Grandpa returned to East Texas for about two years but was dissatisfied and very unhappy.  He told grandma that he wanted to move to Indian Country, find that spring and settle there because someday the Indians would be granted a number of acres of land, as would all their children.  Grandma was not interested and told grandpa that he would not qualify for land because he was not full blooded Indian.  She also told him he was too old to make this move. Grandpa disagreed and finally won.  They loaded all of their possessions in a wagon to start for the new country. 

      Grandma was used to sleeping on a feather bed and she had two of them.  She told grandpa that she would give one to a neighbor in order to save room in the wagon but she wanted to take one with her.  It was necessary to take hay and other feed for the horses, in addition to their clothing and other necessities.  They would camp out every night, let the horses rest, and rest themselves.   

      It took a few months to reach the Indian Country in an old wagon pulled by two old horses.  My brother Gilbert and sister May were always interested in the family history and would asked papa about those days.  It was May and Gilbert who passed stories down to those of us that were younger.  I remember Gilbert telling about what happened to one of the horses named John.  Old John and Patty were the two horses that pulled the wagon all the way from Texas.  John was bitten by a rattle snake and grandpa had to stop to doctor Old John’s leg.   They had to camp for four days before they could continue their journey.  They used axle grease on John’s leg.  Grandpa always carried axle grease to grease the wagon wheels and it seemed to help on John’s wound.  Grandma said that she couldn’t get along without coal oil or kerosene.  She brought a can of coal oil in the wagon for insect bites. 

      Upon reaching their destination, they both realized they would live in the great outdoors until they could build a house of some kind.  Grandpa found the spring the next day.  He told grandma they would also need to find some of the Indians and get acquainted with them.  He explained they were not wild Indians as they had their own language, mission schools, and their own newspapers.  The Cherokees had been settled in Indian Territory for over twenty years, since the Trail of Tears in 1838 and 1839.   

      When Grandpa started building his house some of the Cherokees came to help him, but winter was coming fast and they had to wait until spring to build the springhouse.  Grandpa was a good rock mason for that day and built a good stone rock house over the spring.  He also built a rock ditch with rocks at the bottom and upright on each side to keep the water inside the trench.  The trench was about four feet wide and eight feet long.  The water ran through the springhouse and flowed into the pasture.  The water was very cold.  Butter and milk could be placed in the water in buckets covered with lids.  The milk would stay cold and the butter hard. There was no refrigeration in those early days therefore the springhouse was very useful. 

      I learned from mama that grandpa Wilson was able to get a start of cattle, horses, and hogs during his life.  The cattle grazed on the open range.  The hogs grew fat on acorns and hickory nuts.  The horses ate grass but also needed corn as well. Grandpa farmed some so he could raise corn for the horses and feed some to the hogs.  He raised peanuts and a few other things on part of the land; however he was also interested in having an orchard.  He set out peach trees and apple trees.     

      He continued to live on this place until grandma passed away and all six children were grown.  Ultimately, grandpa and papa were alone.  Papa knew grandpa needed someone to take care of him.  He was crippled from the war and was getting where he could not take care of himself.  Papa decided that he would not marry until grandpa passed away.  He buried his father in the peach orchard about two hundred yards East of the Ranch house.  He built a nice iron fence around the grave and placed a nice tomb stone at the head of the grave, which is still there today.   

      Grandpa never got an Indian allotment because he died before the Dawes Commission assigned the lands to the Cherokees and other Indians of the Five Civilized Tribes, but my father got land and a roll number.  Things turned out the way grandpa thought they would.  Since papa was living in the house and on the land with grandpa, the Dawes Commission assigned him this place as his allotment.  One of my sisters and five of my brothers were also assigned land.  To be on the roll and get land you had to be born by 1906.  I was too late to get an allotment, as were my younger brother and sister.  However, all of my brothers and I were born on the place where my grandfather settled and lived there until my papa moved away in 1915.

      Our mother was from Arkansas.  I do not know as much about her background as I do about my father’s, but she did say she was born in Russelville, Arkansas and lived in Eureka Springs when she was growing up.  She had three sisters and four brothers.

      HOG KILLING, SCHOOL, AND CHURCH

 

      Papa usually killed fifteen hogs each winter to supply his large family in meat.  After the hogs were brought to the house, the work began.  They had to be scalded, scraped, and their intestines removed.  They were hung on a nearby tree and cut open.  On a cold night, papa would let them hang on the tree overnight.  Then they were cut up and taken to the smokehouse where mama ground sausage out of some of it, and papa salted the other meat and hung it up in the smokehouse where the meat could be used during the winter months.  Papa had found a large salt kettle that the Cherokees had used when they first settled in Indian Territory.   He found several of these kettles on the banks of the Illinois River at Linder Bend.  They were being washed into the river as the banks of the river caved in.  He found one, and with the help of several men, loaded it in his wagon and took it home to use as a water trough for his cattle and used it at hog killing time.  These kettles were in different sizes that would hold twenty to two hundred gallons of water.  The one he found held about forty gallons.  You can see these kind of kettles by visiting Sequoyah’s Home, located North East of Sallisaw.  There is one sitting in front.  It is one of the largest ones ever made.

      THE WILSON SCHOOL

 

      In those early days there were few roads and those that were in existence were rough.  The only means of travel was by walking, riding horses, or in wagons or buggies.  Few people had telephones for communication and the telegraph was in existence.  There was no radio, television, or airplanes, but there were a few cars.  Only a few people owned cars near where we lived.  The Wilson ranch was about seven miles to the nearest town and that was a long way to travel at that time.   

      Papa and a few of the neighbors began to realize that there was a need for a school and church.  After all, his own children were growing up fast.  Papa told theses men that he would donate two acres land located about two miles from the ranch, if they would build the building.  The building could be used as a school and a church.  One of the men mentioned a cemetery.  Papa told him he would give another two acres located North of the land he donated for the school, to be used for a cemetery. 

      Five men donated their labor and a school building was built for the children of the community.  They were ready to start their first term the following September.  The five men and papa went to Sallisaw, the county seat of Sequoyah County, to talk to the County Superintendent about a teacher.  He recommended a teacher and advised them they also needed to elect men as school board members.  He then asked the name of the school.  The superintendent recommended that it be called the Wilson School because Albert Wilson (papa) will have more children in it than any of the other men.  The men agreed and the Wilson School on Blackgum Mountain was born.  The school became an Elementary school where children were taught from the first through eighth grade.   

      The school also became a community center for singing, pie suppers, literary society meetings, and it held a Christmas tree every year.  Sometimes church services were held on Sunday, when a preacher could be found.   Many interesting events happened in the schoolhouse as the years passed.  One afternoon a young man came riding up on his horse yelling frantically for papa.  He said a man was coming to the schoolhouse tonight at 8:00 with a talking machine.  “It really talks and makes music too!  It’s called a Victrola”.  Papa was very excited and rushed into the house to tell mama and the children.  After supper we all headed to the schoolhouse.  Papa sat on the spring seat of the wagon with mama and drove the team, and all of my brothers and sisters and I, sat in the back of the wagon.  We all enjoyed the music and I suppose we stayed and listened for at least three hours.  There was not one person present who had ever seen or heard a talking machine.   

      I remember another event that took place at this little schoolhouse.  There was a singing and pie supper held and all the family attended.  The women brought pies and the men bought them as they were auctioned off after the singing.  The money was used for Christmas treats to be bought when the people of the community had their Christmas program in a few weeks.  Things such as Christmas candy, nuts, oranges, apples, and other things.   In order to have a good time and create laughter, the adults decided to have Kangaroo Court.  In this Kangaroo Court my father played the defendant.  He was accused of stealing a pie from my aunt Nora Barrick, which was my mother’s sister.  An attorney was picked to argue the case and to find papa guilty of this crime.  The attorney was Bill Rogers, who lived near us in the Wilson Community.  He argued the case and declared that papa was guilty.  Aunt Nora was placed on the witness stand.  She told the jury that she had turned her back for a few minutes but turned back just in time to see papa take the pie.  She told the jury they should “stick him”.   Mr. Rogers said papa was a rascal and should be stuck.  I got excited, thinking this was for real, and ran to mama crying.  After she got me still long enough to make me understand it was all in fun, I felt better and was able to enjoy the rest of the evening.

      OTHER EXPERIENCES ON THE RANCH

 

      Our shirttail experience is one that I shall always remember.  I had six brothers and in the summer time especially mama had a problem keeping up with the washing.  She washed our clothes in a number three tub on an old scrub board.  She made each of us boys shirts that were extra long and would come below the knee.  This was what we wore during the hot summer months.  We wore no underpants or pants.  The shirts were the only clothing we wore.  We had cousins, all boys, that came to visit us during the summer.  Two were from Vian, two from Gore, and one who lived near the ranch.  With the six of us plus our cousins, we often had twelve boys at our house between the age of six and sixteen.  Our cousins looked forward to this because some of them lived in town and were unable to wear these type shirts at home.  It was rough at times because we played in the woods.  We would find small young trees, pull them down to the ground, get on the tree and bounce up and down.  With no protection over our legs, we often got sores. 

      It was the custom in those days for boys to wear dresses.  I wore a dress until I was at least four years old.  Mama would put some kind of pants on me when we went visiting or to town.  My brother Gilbert made fun of me during this time.  He chewed tobacco and would pick me up by the heels and spit tobacco juice on me.  This made me mad, but he was good to me in many ways, often carrying me on his back. 

      I remember one time we had several cousins visiting us who were all boys.  They, along with my brothers, decided they wanted watermelon.  Papa didn’t raise watermelons that year.  My brother Carl we should go to a farm nearby and steal some melons.  Carl took me along, carrying me on his back.  When we reached the patch of melons, Carl and two of the cousins climbed over the fence and stole some melons.   We all sat down and had a watermelon feast.  A few days passed and I found Gilbert on the porch at the ranch one day.  I said, “Let’s go steal some more watermelon”.  Papa was nearby and heard what I had said.  He turned to Gilbert and asked what I was talking about.  Gilbert told papa about the boys stealing watermelons.  This made papa very angry.  He got all my brothers and cousins who had anything to do with it and gave each a whipping.  He didn’t punish me because I was so small.  Since Carl climbed the fence and got the melons, papa gave him some money and made him go to the farmer to pay for the melons and to apologize. 

      Mama thought that my older brother Frank, my younger brother Paul, and I should go to town and have our picture taken in a studio.  This was a real treat since we got to go to town very little.  While the three of us were seated in front of the photographer I began to look around and noticed the beautiful wallpaper on the walls and ceiling of the room.  I was unable to take my eyes off it.  While I was looking up the photographer snapped the picture.  Mama was unhappy with the picture but decided to keep it.   

      I remember papa doing many thing to please mama and all of us children back in those days.  Bananas in the grocery store hung from a stalk.  When you bought them the grocery man would pull them off the stalk and put them in a paper sack.  Once papa went to town and bought a whole stalk and brought them home.  He gave all of us a banana to eat but he didn’t want us to waste them or make ourselves sick.  He went into one of the bedrooms and nailed the stalk of bananas to the ceiling.  When he thought we should have a banana, he would get them.  I dare not ask papa for one because I knew it was no use.  I was crazy about bananas and would go into the room where the bananas were hanging and stand looking at them for a long time, hoping that at least one would break off and fall to the floor, so I could eat it before papa saw me. 

      Papa bought a new piano for my oldest sister May.  It was shipped in a large wooden box, the biggest I had ever seen.  Mama put that box to good use.  For many years she used it to house her baby chickens.  She had a small hole cut in the front of the box large enough for the baby chickens to come in and out.  At night they were fastened in to keep other animals out.  One time mama had more than fifty baby chicks in this box.  My brother Jess was a small boy but big enough to walk around in the back yard.  Mama was walking out to the chicken box one morning to let them out for the day when she discovered Jess beat her to it.  He was sitting in front of the box and caught each chick as they came out and pulled their heads off!  When mama found he she was very angry.  He had killed twelve or fifteen baby chicks.   

      I do remember papa bought a new Hack; you might call it a Surrey.  It had fringe all around and was a two-seated black buggy that was pulled by two horse or mules.  Papa also bought a pair of mules to pull it.   I remember papa going to Kansas City when he shipped his cattle one fall, and while he was there he bought the Hack and had it shipped to him.  I was never so thrilled than when papa told us children that we were going to town in the Hack.  We had always gone in the old bumpy wagon and were among the few people who owned a Hack in our part of the country.   

      Papa was one of the most prosperous men on Blackgum Mountain at that time.  He had more than one hundred head of cattle, the woods full of hogs, and he rented the lands of my brothers and sister, plus did what was called “share cropping”.  In those days, the landowner got one third of the cotton raised and one fourth of the corn.  Papa had the sharecropper bring his part of the corn and put it in the barn each year and sold his share of cotton.  He fed his part of the corn to the horses and hogs.  He received rent from land that was allotted to one of my sisters and five brothers.  He paid no rent on the place where we lived because that was from his Cherokee allotment. 

      Papa spoke Cherokee and could carry on a conversation with the Cherokee Indians.  I remember seeing him sitting on the front porch during the noon hours talking to a Cherokee man that he had hired to help with the cattle.  They talked and talked.  I didn’t understand what was going on, but I still listened.   

      We attended many of the Indian gatherings, particularly the stomp dances.  During the day the Cherokees would play “stick ball”, have the corn stalk shoot game, and have a big dinner at noon where all the people present (white as well as Indian) were invited to eat.  Mama helped the Cherokee women cook the Indian food and we all ate together.  The stomp dance took place at night.  The Cherokees danced around a big fire that they allegedly brought from Georgia when they came over the Trail of Tears.  As the story goes, it had been burning four hundred years.  Five Cherokee men were appointed as Fire Chiefs and it was their responsibility to keep this fire burning.  In the winter they took the fire inside their home and put it in a stove.  Sheds were built around the big fire with seats for those to watch while others danced.  Cherokee women had turtle shells filled with small rocks and they stomped their feet.

PAPA’S DEATH

 

      Papa got sick about the time I was a little past six years old.  He was bedfast for almost a year.  Dr. W.T. Bryan came to see him almost every day from Vian in a buggy.  It took a full day for the doctor to make this trip, see papa, and get back home before dark.  He was our family doctor and mama had all the confidence in the world in him.  He told mama that she should move papa to Vian so he could come to see papa more quickly.  Mama made plans to do what the doctor suggested.  Papa and his brother, Uncle Bill, owned a house in Vian, and their sister, Aunt Fannie, and their Aunt Priscilla, lived in this house.  Aunt Fannie became very sick about the same time papa did and she was taken to the house of another aunt who agreed to care for her.  Aunt Priscilla moved to East Texas to live.  The plan was for us to move into this house until papa was well.   It was not long until Papa passed away, in September 1915.  Uncle Bill always came to see him every morning while we were in Vian, and then would go see Aunt Fannie.  He came by as usual the day papa died.  He had just left to see Aunt Fannie when papa passed away.   Mama called to where Aunt Fannie was and asked to speak to Uncle Bill.  Uncle Bill came to the phone, which was located in the hall next to the bedroom where Aunt Fannie was sick.  Aunt Fannie heard what was said and passed away within a few minutes.  I shall never forget the day papa died.  I was in the bedroom where he lay and one of the neighbor women ran me out just a few minutes before he died.   

      After papa died we all went back to the ranch to complete some unfinished business.  Mama had much to do. Since papa and Uncle Bill had bought the house in Vian where papa had passed away, Uncle Bill gave his interest to mama and insisted that we move into this house as soon as possible.  When mama told my brothers that we were moving to town they were delighted.  I didn’t want to leave the ranch.   

      Before we moved to Vian, the only school I ever attended was during the summer term in the Wilson School.  This lasted only a few weeks, since this was a cotton-picking school, like so many other schools then.  This is a school that had two months of school in the summer and no school during the cotton-picking season.  The boys and girls would help pick cotton raised on their farms.  Mr. Frank Oliver taught in our school and in other rural schools in Oklahoma.   Many of the boys and girls were quite old to be in the first eight grades then.  Some of the boys were sixteen and seventeen and had not completed the eighth grade.  One of my fellow students was Ray Fine, who later became a State Representative and State Senator from Sequoyah County.   

      I remember my first day in school after moving to Vian.  My mother knew the John Horn family.  Mr. Horn helped papa and other men when it was cattle round up time each year.  He had cattle of his own near where we lived and helped in the branding.  They lived only a block from where we lived in Vian.  Mama had me walk to school with Jack and Clyde Horn, who were about my age.  Clyde and I were in the first grade together and he helped me to get acquainted with everyone.   My first grade teacher was Miss Grayson.  She later married a merchant whose name was Mr. Fee.  I still see her at our retired teachers meetings, as I am also a retired teacher.   

      Some of the classmates I remember are: Nellie Brown and her brother John; Carlile Henship; Sample Brockenen, who is today a retired General from WWII; Cecil Whitenberg; Burble and Herbert Calhoun; Ora Wilson; and Happy Foreman, who is an attorney in Oklahoma City.  I caught up with my brother Frank in the fourth grade and we continued to be in the same grade until he quit school in the tenth grade. 

      Mama had a lot of business to complete concerning papa’s death after we moved to town.  He was sick in bed for more than a year and left a huge doctor bill for mama to pay.  She also had to make a living for all of her children and send them to school.  She got a loan of $2,000 on the Ranch and sold the cattle to pay the debt.  My half-brother, George Whitmire, was of age and lived on his own farm by this time.  May became of age and married within a few years and her land went to her and her husband.  Frank’s land was an eighty-acre hay meadow and was considered part of the ranch.  Mama continued to rent Jess and Carl’s land to share croppers and had all the corn brought to her barn in Vian to be used for feeding hogs.  We killed the hogs for food, but sold the cotton produce on these two farms and leased the ranch for cash.  She was able to make a living for all the children who were still home and still pay off the loan on the Ranch. 

      We children continued to go to school in Vian until both Gilbert and Jess quit before high school graduation.  Carl graduated from High School with the highest honors as Valedictorian of his class in 1921.  Frank, Paul, Lovice, and I, were much younger and were in grade school until mama passed away. 

      Back in those days we had to make our own amusement and entertain ourselves, especially in the summer months when we were not hoeing cotton or corn, or earning money in other ways.  I had two paper routes and was a janitor at the Methodist Church for a few years.  At the church I was paid four dollars a month, paid seventy- five cents a day when I hoed cotton and corn, and one dollar a hundred for cotton picking.  For amusement we would climb the mountains and hills, and explore caves.  Two of my brothers, Frank and Paul, and I used to fish and hunt in the summer.  Mama bought us a 410-gauge shotgun that we used for hunting squirrels.   

      Lovice, my youngest sister was playing in the front yard with her playmate, Virginia Thornton.  Virginia came running one day pulling on my sleeve.  I looked up and Lovice was lying on the ground unconscious near a swing that had broken.  I carried her into the house.  I took her to mama’s room where mama was sick in bed.  I did what I could to care for her but was getting desperate when my older brother came home.  He told me to go to town and get the doctor.  By the time we returned, my sister was all right.

MAMA’S DEATH

 

      Mama was sick in bed for several months with T.B. My older brothers and sister May knew that everything possible should be done for her if she was to continue to live.  May was married to Arthur Carlile and had three children.  Gilbert had sold his land soon after coming of age.  Carl had gone to school in Kansas at the age of seventeen to get his training as a pharmacist.  Sine he had no money and was unable to get a loan on his property, Jess got a loan on his place and loaned the money to Carl so he could attend this school.  By this time Carl was a pharmacist and he got a loan on his place in order to take mama to Albuquerque, New Mexico for her health.   

      Before mama left for New Mexico, plans had to be made to care for Frank, Paul, myself, and my sister Lovice.   My half-brother George and his wife agreed to move into our house and take care of us boys.  Lovice was to stay with our oldest sister May and her family.  I will never forget as long as I live the night Mama and Carl left.  They were to go by train and mama told us she didn’t want any of us to go to the depot.  When mama and Carl got to the front door to leave, mama was very brave.  She waved her hand and smiled at all of us and said, “Goodbye”.  That was the last time I saw mama alive.  Mama left home in October 1923 and continued to live until April 12, 1924.  When she passed away she was brought back to be buried in the Vian Cemetery.  

      I shall always regret that she was not buried by the side of my father, who was buried in the same cemetery, but it did not work out that way.  When papa died his brother, Uncle Bill, came to see mama and asked her if she objected to placing papa between two of his brothers who had been gone many years.  Without thinking in her grief, she told Uncle Bill that would be all right with her.  Therefore, when she was buried she had to be buried in another part of the cemetery.   

      By the summer of 1924, I knew us boys could not continue to live with George and his wife.  I caught a bus to Warner to see Mr. H.C. King, president of the Corona School of Agriculture.  I hoped he would allow me to attend school while working off my room and board.  Now this is one of Oklahoma’s Junior Colleges.  Back then it was for students from the eighth grade through high school.  My sister May contacted the Dwight Mission School about allowing Paul and Frank to do the same thing.  Unlike me, they would have to pay $40 each and still work for room and board.  Uncle Bill paid the $80 so they went one way and I went another.   The unhappiest years of my life were the school year I spent in Warner in 1924 and 1925.  I missed my family and I knew no one.  I worked for Mr. King at his residence, while sleeping in the boy’s dormitory.  The schedule was rough and regardless of what I did, I was unable to please Mr. King.  

      In September 1925 I went to Dwight and met the superintendent, Mr. Hanson.  He agreed to help Paul, Frank, and myself.  We could work and go to school without paying the $40 tuition.  He would help us find jobs and we could pay him back a little at a time.   When I graduated in 1927 I owed $130, but I got a job in a pharmacy and was able to pay Mr. Hanson back.  Frank got discouraged and quit school in the tenth grade.  He too got a job and paid off his debt.   

      Dwight was very strict but I was happy while I was there.  We worked 6 days a week but still found time for activities.  I was on the football team, which was made up of whites and Indians.  The best players were Creek Indians.  Roman Kanard and Cornelius Frank were two of the best in the backfield.  Lucas Miller played on the line.  We had a big Choctaw whose last name was Bahanan who was a great ball player.  We all liked James Humphrey, our coach.  

      We also played basketball, baseball, and tennis. We attended church twice on Sundays and attended prayer meetings on Wednesday night.  Mr. Humphrey was a great singer.   We would go to the living room at night and sing religious songs until bedtime.  

      Mrs. Landon was my favorite teacher.  I took several classes under her since she was qualified to teach several subjects.  She married after leaving Dwight.  I saw her at several of the retired teachers reunions.   

      Dwight Mission was an old school, established in 1820 in Russelville, Arkansas, when many of the Indians were living in Arkansas.  It was moved to its present location in 1829.  Four of my brothers and two of my sisters also attended Dwight.  My oldest sister May was in school at Dwight when the girl’s dormitory burned.  She was home for Christmas vacation when the fire took place.   Dwight was opened and closed a number of times throughout the years.  It was closed during the Civil War, after the Battle of Pea Ridge in Arkansas.  The soldiers from the North came to Dwight, ran everyone out and made Dwight their headquarters.  They found food in the kitchen, beds in the dormitories, and hay and corn for their horses.  When they left the school was opened again by the Presbyterian Home Mission Society of New York, who had always financed the operation of Dwight. The school continued for many years until the boy’s dormitory was destroyed by fire, and thirteen Indian boys burned to death.  They were all buried in the same grave in the Dwight Cemetery nearby. 

      When I graduated in 1927, there were only five of us in the graduating class: Charles Ford, Harry Hansen, Geneva Holderman, Vivian Thompson, and myself.  The next year the last two years of high school were dropped at Dwight, therefore we were the only students who graduated from the twelfth grade at Dwight.