Families of Chambers County, Texas

The Cosby Creed Rush Family

By Alice Rush and Daughters

Cosby C. Rush was born near Berryville, Arkansas, Feb. 6, 1879. Two years later, about 30 miles away, Mary Alice Farris was born in Batavia, Arkansas, May 22, 1881. Cosby attended the schools in Berryville, and Alice started in a one-room school in Batvia. Later, a new one was built with two rooms and two teachers but went only through the elementary grades.

When Alice was about fourteen, her mother took her, Newt, Martha, and Syd to Carrollton to attend school. They lived the first winter at Uncle Charlie Redden's who was at Green Forest at the time. Another winter, just Alice and Newt went to stay with Aunt Ollie and Uncle Charlie.

When Alice was about eighteen, they rented a house. This time Sarah had several others staying with her and going to school. Among Sarah's "roomers" were Clara and Elsie Rush, Alta Chapman, Mildred McCurry, and Altha Naples. The household also included the three Farris girls, Newt, and Joe. Carrollton was widely known at that time as an educational center, and it was not unusual for families to make similar arrangements so that children would receive greater educational advantages. William and the older boys stayed at home to look after the farm, and frequently joined the family for weekends.

One winter Syd took smallpox. No one else in the house had had it, so Maria Martin, who had already suffered an attack, came to live with them and to look after Syd. The parlor was turned over to them. Sarah cooked their meals, put them on the front porch where they were picked up by the Martin girl and taken into the parlor.

When Alice was in high school at Carrollton, she sang in a girl’s quartet with Grace Kirkpatrick, Mildred McCurry, and sister, Syd. Both Syd and Alice say that Newt was the most watchful and strictest chaperon three girls ever had. He laid down many rules of conduct and strictly forbade kissing. Alice was given the leading part in a play. The role called for Newman McCurry to kiss her and the director kept saying, "Kiss her, kiss her!" Alice had visions of Newt walking in and stopping the whole thing. Once Marcellus New came to call on Alice. He stayed longer than Newt thought he should, so Newt went outside and turned his horse loose. He walked in and said innocently, "Marcellus, your horse is loose."

The first Rush home was a small box-house just outside of Devers, Texas. Once Cosby butchered a pig, hung it in the attic and went to Liberty. When he came home, he found buzzards sitting on the roof, Cosby's first hint that Texas and Arkansas weather was different. 

There was much mud and no sidewalks in the small towns in this area. Alice remembers that Cosby once picked her up to carry her across a mud hole. Alice got tickled, so did Cosby. He said if she didn't stop laughing, he was going to drop her. Alice didn't, so Cosby did. Cosby taught first in Liberty County and Alice taught in Reavis school near Raywood and rode horseback back and forth. One day the fog was so bad Alice got completely lost. Alice was frightened but gave the horse his bridle and he found the way to the school. In Alice's school were two families of Reavis children (fourteen) and three cousins from another family. They were completely without previous training or home discipline, so the next year, she and Cosby traded schools. Alice made $33.00 a month, and Cosby made $40.00. In Texas, Alice suffered from chills and malaria. She also lost two babies through miscarriages.

Cosby was offered a school near Eureka Springs, so they returned to Arkansas. They boarded with the Vaughn family. The food was so good that it made the change worthwhile.

Ice and most of their supplies came by boat from Galveston. Before the bulkhead was built, Anahuac was a popular resort for fishing, boating, and swimming. Cosby and Alice built a nice, two-story house near the edge of town on the bayshore. Jeff, Eloise, and Theodore were born there.

Forgot to say when Cosby had the hotel and was teaching school, he also was the town barber at the barber shop. His philosophy of life always seemed to be . . . if you think you can do it . . . you can do it . . . 

Uncle Ed came from Arkansas to live with them.

There was a large "negro town" on one side of Anahuac and the white citizens had plenty of inexpensive help. However, Alice was not accustomed to them and always kept a white hired girl. When the children were small, Hannah, a Russian woman, kept house. She took so much food home to her hungry family that Alice finally had to let her go.  

The flat land around Anahuac was excellent for ranching and lent itself equally well to a new industry, the growing of rice. Cosby began contracting for the digging of irrigation ditches which were essential to rice crops. He used mules to pull the digging machines and other equipment.   Shorty Meneley from Kansas bought into the business and the Rush family moved to Stowell.  

When Mama was in her prime, I don’t think anyone could beat her cooking. Alice and Eloise remember coming in from school and eating half an apple pie each. Mama knew how to bring her brood home in a hurry. Her pies were not the skimpy little ones either. The crusts were crumbly except on top where the thick syrup had bubbled out making a mouth-watering trim. I have seen her stand and fry mounds of doughnuts, especially those with marshmallow centers (anyone seen or heard of those before or since?) potato chips, pies of all kinds, cheese aigrettes, (sp?) WOWIE! No one ever reprimanded or got his hand slapped for grabbing and gobbling them us as she cooked them and while they were at their still burning-hot-best. Her chocolate cake was unforgettable. She had huge oblong pans and she baked her cakes in one large slab with unbelievable thick fudge icing. I don’t think she ever measured anything, so she passed along little of her skill to her daughters. Her instructions of “a little of this” and “a generous portion, but not too much of that” were difficult to follow. Sister Alice said that where most cools “beat for three minutes,” Mama mixed her chocolate cake for two verses of “In the Garden.” Doubtless Mama was unaware of this, but Alice Lenore could tell it was ready to bake by the end of that second verse. Only once can I remember her denying food to anyone or hiding it out. Paul and Howell were dearly loved, but no one had a bigger appetite than Howell. He would frequently come by and “clean out the place.” Once Mama was expecting Sunday night company. We went visiting that afternoon, but before we left, Mama took all the food, packed it in a large roasting pan and slid it under the bed. Howell came by, half-starved as usual, and couldn’t find a crumb. He never let Mama forget her mistreatment of him.

I have heard that tramps have a code by which they mark and identify the houses that are “good pickings.” None missed our house, and none went away hungry. There was one who once tried Mama’s patience. He asked for food and she brought him a sandwich. He asked for coffee and she brought it, he asked for cream and she brought that, then he asked for matches.

Mama never would let her children “roam the neighborhood,” but we could ask or bring home as much company as we wished . . . and we had plenty – food and company. Doubtless many came as much for the food as for our companionship.

Dad worked hard and continued to prosper. He had said many times that when he made enough to retire, he wanted to live in Portland, Oregon.

The people in Winnie gave us an unforgettable farewell party. There were silver spoons with individual initials engraved for each member of the family. We went to Oregon by train.

When Dad realized that there was to be no immediate recovery, Mama packed our clothing, left all the lovely furnishing, dishes, and most of our personal belongings, thinking we would be back, and returned to Texas. We returned to Winnie for a while, but because Mom and Dad wanted us to have greater educational advantages, we moved to Beaumont about 1924. Dad went into the trucking and produce business. He bought and sold cattle and did everything else he could think of to make a living. The boys helped him or took paper routes. I gave piano lessons, worked part time in the music store, hat shop, dress shop, and whatever. At no time did we ever hear Mama complain and Dad never lost his spirit of optimism. Because so many people were in distress, Dad, in spite of his own financial problems, managed to find an increasing number of people to look after. I recently picked up a magazine that had a short article written by someone about his father:

“After his terrible loss, he carried not an ounce of bitterness, of apology or defeatism. Right up to the time he died, he continued what he had always done – to plunge into life, the bitter and the sweet, with nothing held back, without protecting himself with suspicion, reserve, or emotional caution.”

I can scarcely believe those words were written about another man. They so accurately describe C. C. Rush.

Even in the worst depression days, Mama and Dad did everything they could to make them pleasant days for us children. They continued to encourage us to invite all the friends that we wanted. There were popcorn parties, candy pulls, and dances, dances, dances. Not public ones, but dances at home with the Victrola. It was especially nice on Franklin St. where we had the large living and dining room connected and opening into a wide central hall.  There was also much singing and piano playing, which Dad loved.

Dad bid on and got the mail contract which provided a small but steady income for several years, but there were always a dozen other deals going at the same time. He got in on the second big Spindletop boom and made a fortune, but learned, long before there were penalties for it, the practice of cross-drilling and the double pay roll where big operators paid the drillers of the smaller operators to “drop a wrench” or otherwise sabotage a well and put their competitors out of business.

At the very depth of the depression on Nov. 7, 1928, Vera Irene Rush, the eighth child was born. Jeff, the oldest son was married, and he and Mabel were expecting their first child. I was in college and Alice was ten years old. As Irene tells it, “Suddenly, ready or not, there I was. The reaction of the rest of the family is a story in itself. My friends today find it difficult to believe that the whole family was taken completely by surprise. Most say, ‘Now, you know young people are not that naïve.’ Well, my family was. Clyde was playing football for South Park High School. When he left for school, Dad was taking Mama to the hospital. Clyde asked Coach Gray if he could miss practice that afternoon as his Mother was in the hospital. Coach asked what for and Clyde said he didn’t know.” I, Eloise was in college. My closest friend, Wilda Wells had recently told me that, after all these years her mother was going to have another baby. I thought it rather crass. Mama and Daddy always went to hear me sing if it were at all possible, and I was quite put-out with Mama for giving some poor excuse when I asked her to go to some special programs. When I insisted, she had to tell me that she was expecting. I think I went into shock. Wilda says she will never forget my expression as I came into the choir practice that night and told her mama was going to have a baby also. Irene arrived in less than a week. As many surprises often turn out, this was probably the greatest thing that could have happened to our family. Irene was loved almost to the point of worship. Out of my teacher’s salary, I dressed her like the adorable doll that she was. Out of eight children she was the only one with curls. When she cut off two golden front locks, I cried hysterically. She bound us together and made us a more tightly knit family than ever before. She should have been spoiled rotten, but friends and family attest that that was never the case, which just foes to show that “a lot of loving never hurt nobody.”

Mama remained active. Alice remembers when we lived in South Park and Alice was about twelve, that Mama could outrun her. No doubt she had to stay active to keep up with Alice. However, she had a way of managing everyone without too much visible effort. This included Sparkle, the eleventh member of our family. The rest of us would chase, sneak up, and use every trick we knew to catch that pesky horse. Mama would come out, call to him, and he would come, meek as a lamb.