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Mildred Loudermilk Watson

Mildred WatsonMildred Loudermilk Watson

Black Springs

Part Cherokee Indian and all redhead, Miss Mildred Watson stood only five feet, give or take an inch. One would have thought that mixture would breed a little fireball, but this was not the case.  She was a pure delight to be around, she brought joy to many lives and she was very dedicated to teaching and to children.

She was the daughter of Rose “Belle” (Huey) and Arthur Loudermilk, who were the first couple married in the new town of Womble, on July 27, 1907.  Justice of the Peace Jim Crump did the honors.

Mildred married Alton Watson and they had two children, Tommy Roe and Joe Neil (Watson) Morphew. Both are now deceased.  Joe Neil became quite well-known for her many years served at the courthouse in Mt. Ida, as county clerk.

Miss Mildred taught her first school at Perrin District #14, just after having finished high school at Caddo Valley Academy, with the class of 1928.  She also entered college at Henderson in Arkdelphia, to continue her education while teaching.

Miss Mildred was best known for the many years she spent in the Black Springs School.  She moved to the Norman Elementary on Highway Eight after it was constructed  and opened in midterm 1955-56.  She was teaching the fifth grade, which is the grade she mostly taught.  However, she taught almost every class in the lower grades.  She retired from teaching in 1972, and she passed away in 1993.

I was in England at the time of her death and did not know of it until later.  As a memorial to her I hired an artist friend to paint the sign over the City Hall building at Norman, and intended to paint the outside of the building.  However, Duane Cox insisted that the city would pay for it, so I furnished the paint and he had it painted.  It was a little tough convincing the city council that orange, blue and off- white would go well together, but everyone in town seemed to be delighted with the results.  I’m sure Miss Mildred would have approved.  I only tell that story here so that she might be honored as intended.

Mildred loved a good story and she told many on herself and of her teaching years.  She loved to tell the one about her and Jo Neil walking to Black Springs from her house on Highway Eight, a few miles west of Black Springs.  Jo Neil was in grade school at the time, and she would complain about how far it was.  Her mother admonished her and told her when she was young they had to walk three to five miles to school.  Jo Neil, defiantly, said that if that was the case she just wouldn’t go!

Another story on herself was when she got her first and only paddling at school.  She was caught passing a note after school.  Her brother Huey was working at the slate mill at Slatington ,and was not expected home for the weekend.  However, he was seen passing the school on his way home, so his girlfriend wrote him a note and asked Mildred to take it to him.  They were caught, thus the spanking.

Another spanking she well remembered was when she was forced to paddle two children which she didn’t believe deserved it.  However, the principal insisted she do it, or he would.  He was well-known for his severe harsh use of the paddle, and she knew if he did it, he wouldn’t paddle, he would beat.  So, with tears in her eyes she carried out his orders, but she never forgot it, and always felt sorrow and shame for having done it.

Mildred also told stories of how her grandfather Logan carried the mail from Star of the West over Fodderstack Mountain on horseback.  The family moved to what is now known as the old Guthery place so he could fill a vacancy at the Black Springs post office.  This must have been as a carrier, as he never served as postmaster.

Mildred’s mother, Belle, played in a string band made up of all girls.  She played both the guitar and banjo.  The girls played for social gatherings.

I miss Mildred Watson, and her delightful little chuckle.  I visited her often in her latter years, and loved to eat her fried chicken and her saurkraurt salad and listen to her scold her little dachshund, Jill.  She never failed to fill the hour with laughter and stories, and to recall her sadness at the loss of her son (her daughter was not deceased at that time).




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