By Marilyn Brixey
I wish you could have known him..... His name was Harvey Brixey and he was by father, my teacher, and my hero. Maybe you can get a glimpse of what he was like as I reflect on a couple of my favorite moments....
The space between his front teeth only made it easier for him to spit farther and whistle louder than anyone else. I guess what was most important was that he was always smiling - always!
Especially when his dream of building Brixey Pond came true. Brixey Pond is a few miles north of Perkins, OK on the Brixey Homestead where my father was born and raised. When he was a kid, he dreamed of damming up the creek that was fed by 104 clear water underground springs that he counted on a regular basis. Finally in 1964, his childhood dream came true.... he had enough money to hire a bulldozer to clear out the creek and build a dam. Now picture this, a beautiful spring-fed pond as long as two football fields, as wide as four semi trucks parked bumper to bumper and so deep that you had to wear scuba diving gear if you wanted to go deeper than eight or nine feet, mainly because the water was so cold.
His main reasons for wanting the pond was to give the kids around Perkins a place to play; a place his hay haulers could cool off after working in the hot sun; a place he could take a quick nap in the shade with a cool breeze blowing off the water, but most of all a place where he could, have fun, and visit with people.
One of the enticing draws to the pond was the rope swings. Daddy had designed and welded a huge swingset and had it concreted in the bank of the pond. He then built an open shed with a tin roof close to the swingset. We started out with swings but over the years the sport of rope-swinging became more and more popular. So, he ended up building a long wooden deck where you would stand and wait for your turn. Someone would have to get in the water, throw the rope toward you, then you would grab it with the hook at the end of a long pole. Usually it would take 2-3 tries to grab the rope. Kids of all ages loved to climb on the wooden deck, grab the big heavy rope, sit on the big double knot in the rope, and swing out back and forth over the water!
The goal of most of the teenage boys was to get the nerve to climb up on the top of the shed and swing off the rope from higher up. Buckets, barrels, and chairs eventually ended up on top of the shed, in order to enhance the challenge, as a result of all the “I dare you” and “I’m not skerred!” comments. Now the boys had an even higher place from which to jump.
There was a little platform we called the eagle’s nest, at the top of the swingset frame. The eagle’s nest was about 35 feet above the water! Only the most daring would dream of climbing to the top of the swing frame and jump off the top! Anytime a person got up the nerve- everything and everyone stopped to watch.
Daddy was not the type to just sit back and watch others have all the fun. I remember one time when he was 65 years old and got bucked off a horse he was trying to break. The horse got the last word in, well I guess that is not exactly true..... the doctor got the very last word in when he said, “Harvey, you’ve got to stay off those wild horses. You were lucky this time, but you’re getting too old to be getting bucked off!”
Daddy would just laugh. Anyone who came to visit, not only heard his story about taming that wild horse, but also got a peek at his left hip/buttock as he dropped his drawers and exhibited the most interesting shades of purple, black and yellow. He was pretty proud of the bruise! But even that bruise wouldn’t stop him from his weekly ritual at the pond.
Every Sunday at 2 pm was show time at Brixey's Pond. Carloads of fraternity guys from Oklahoma State University, teenagers from all around Perkins, and even people as far away as Oklahoma City would show up to watch the performance. Boys would cheer, girls would scream; but everyone's eyes stayed glued to the farmer climbing on the little ladder up to the top of the swing.
He always wore old torn bib overalls, lace-up work shoes, a farmers cap that had some advertisement on it, and a big smile. He would walk across the top of the frame that held the rope swing then he would walk back pretending to be a tight-rope walker.
Several times I would hold my breath because I just knew he was going to fall. He never did. After what I considered the life threatening walk, dad would stand on the one-by-one eagle's nest platform and act like he was getting up his nerve to jump.
After about two minutes-- long enough time so that everyone was either cheering him on or begging him to come back down---he jumped! Splash! Everything would get so quiet you could hear the waves hitting the sandy shore.
Then he would pop up and say "Where's my hat?" Amid the clapping and screaming--he would bring a bucket of water with him as he came up on shore. Some lucky young girl would get cooled off every Sunday at 2:10 pm.
I remember hearing a number of young men state they hoped they could be just like my dad when they were 65!
Daddy is gone now, but memories of him live on in the minds and hearts of his children and grandchildren as well as many others that knew and loved him. My desire now, is to save these memories by writing them down so that when his great grandchildren are born, they too can share some of the pride and joy I feel at being related to such a wonderful man.
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