Bogus
Springs is a vanished Rodessa oilfield community. It was an active
little town during the 1920's, '30's and '40's. It must have had 20
to 30 people living there during it's heyday. I can remember that
the spring the town is named after was still actively flowing in the
1950's. The community was built around the cold water spring. Recently,
I sold a large part of my old family home place that came within 200
yards of the Bogus Spring. Many times while growing up, I have been
to the spring for a refreshing drink of that good, cool water. Whenever
they were working in the area, oilield workers from all over the Rodessa
oilfield would stop at the spring each morning and fill their water
jugs. My father and I were among them. He and I have used many, many
gallons of that Bogus Spring water.
The spring water came from under the roots of a very large whiteoak
tree. Workers kept the clean white sand dug out of the spring to keep
it running freely. Someone placed a cypress wood box around the spring
to contain a clean volume of water to dip from. Or, kneeling down,
you could place your palms on the cypress box and lean over to sip
water directly from the spring. We often did that when we had nothing
to dip with. Cypress wood is used because it is rot resistant, and
long lasting in a wet environment. Cedar wood has the same characteristics
- but in a dry environment.
The only home that I can remember in the Bogus Spring area was the
home of the Black family that owned the spring property. They were
Jenny Bogus and her brother Harry. I remember them both very well.
They cared for their aged, housebound mother (whom I never met) in
their old house for many years until she died. Jenny was a hard working
woman and kept the old place very livable. Rumor had it around those
parts, that she might brew a little white lightning from time to time.
Brother Harry hunted wild brush rabbits for food. Many times as we
drove along the roads, I recall passing Harry as he was walking home,
carrying rabbits to cook. He never used a gun. He had a couple of
rabbit dogs that would run the rabbit into a hollow log, a decayed
tree or a hole in the ground. However the rabbit chose to escape,
Harry and the dogs would usually bag it. |
Jenny
and Harry Bogus have long passed from this earth, but they have left
a memory forever in my mind. Their old house is long gone now, too
and there isn't much left in the woods where they once lived. Everything
is quiet and still over that lonely hill. Ther's only the sound of
the wind whistling through the trees or the occassional hoot of an
old hoot owl, nothing more.
Not very many years ago, before I sold the old home place there, I
got a shovel, some cypress boards, a hammer and some nails. I got
in my old pickup and drove over to the old springs. I had to locate
it and make an effort to revive the old spring. I desperately wanted
it to be like yesteryear. I was quickly saddened when I found the
old whiteoak tree was gone and the spring was completely dry. I frantically
dug the ground looking for any hint of moisture. But it was totally
dry and no moisture anywhere. There was nothing at all, not even an
old rotted cypress board. I had enthusiastically envisioned reviving
that old spring and bringing it back to life so that I could drink
its cool, clear water once again. I have to believe now, that it was
not meant to be.
I threw the shovel over my shoulder and the boards under my arm, and
slowly walked back to my pickup, in deep thought. Then, in time, I
remembered what my father often told me as a child. "Nothing stays
the same, son. Nothing ever stays the same; life goes on and each
day brings a new beginning."
© N. Ray Maxie
"Ramblin' Ray"
February 1, 2005 Column
piddlinacres@consolidated.net
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