This begins Roy's story, told in his own words....  (more chapters to come)

This is a time before my memory…I don’t remember anything during this period including our family, my grandparents or aunts and uncles.   The stories that follow are stories that my parents,  "Roy Earl Eastman, Senior" and "Alma Anna Hunter", told me.

            My mother was a teacher at a little red school near Belleville, Kansas.  She was very pretty and I was told that she had an opportunity to go to Hollywood for an acting career, but rather chose to marry my dad.  Boy am I glad!  She met my father while she was attending Concordia Business College in Concordia, Kansas, where he was the basketball coach.

                  My father also worked as a deputy sheriff for my granddad Jacob (Jake) John Eastman, known as "JJ" Eastman, the Republic County Sheriff for six terms.  Granddad Eastman was married to Christina Mae Hogerson.  

                  My sister Virginia Lee was born January 12, 1925.  I arrived a year and a month later on February 12, 1926.  I was born about a half a mile from where the Republican River enters Kansas from Nebraska, making my official birthplace Belleville, Kansas. My parents named me Roy Earl Eastman, Junior after my father.  For most of my growing up years, I answered to the name "Junior".

               My folks moved to a small house near the Rose of Sharon Church, a small church on the prairie.   Mom told me that while we lived there she saw a tornado coming towards the house. She took Virginia Lee and me down into the root cellar until the storm had passed. I assume that the tornado missed us because there was no talk about damage.

               Granddad Eastman was the sheriff for Republic County, Kansas for many years and dad was one of his deputies for a while. Dad told me of a couple of experiences he had as a deputy sheriff.   This was the time of  Prohibition, which was called that because it prohibited the use or sale of liquor in the United States.  Organized crime (the mobs) smuggled whiskey in from Canada or distilled it from stills and sold it to those who would buy, similar to what the drug cartels do today. 

              Dad and Granddad Eastman once raided a “rot gut” whiskey distillery commonly called a “still” that was run by a local mob. Dad and Granddad apprehended the “revenuers”, dumped out their whiskey and destroyed the still, plus some jugs that were ready to ship, then sent everyone there to jail.  This concerned my dad because the Mob had guards and hired killers to protect their suppliers and buyers and so they could maintain their huge income. They were a dangerous bunch who often fought among themselves using Tommy Guns (hand held machine guns) or shotguns and were known for violent reprisals against those who would destroy their liquor or arrest their men.  Dad worried about the Revenuers taking revenge even years later after we moved to Idaho.

            Dad was a good shot.  He went to the Kansas State Police match and took first place and was given two Smith and Weston 38 special revolvers that were nickel-plated with pearl handles.

            The other experience Dad had was when one of his friends committed a murder and was holed up somewhere within a block in the business district of Belleville. The police surrounded the block but nobody wanted to go in after the murderer.  Because he knew the murderer, Dad was asked to go into the cordoned off area and try to talk his friend into surrendering.  He tried several doors and finally opened a door into a coal shed where he found his friend pointing a pistol at him from about ten feet away. After a long conversation, Dad convinced the suspect to give up. I believe he resigned as a deputy sheriff shortly after that incident.

           Mother’s parents, granddad "Herbert Calvin Hunter and grandma (Ada Anna Belt) Hunter," moved to Twin Falls, Idaho during 1923 and tried to get my folks to move with them.  Finally, in 1928, Dad and Mom decided to make the move.   I was two years old and Virginia Lee was three. One of the major reasons I think they finally decided to move was the Dust Bowl, which was one of the worst times in American history.  The Dust Bowl started when the United States completed the Louisiana Purchase. 

            It was a hard trip in what I believe was a Model T Ford.  My parents had car trouble in Wyoming in mid winter.  In those days, there were not any mobile phones, radios, AAA, or tow trucks to contact or help a stranded person. There was nothing but miles and miles of nothing but miles and miles of nothing. Lucky for us, a kind person befriended our family, taking us in for the night during the freezing weather.  Then he helped Dad fix the car the next day.  That included lying on the frozen ground for a long period of time, until the car could be repaired. He would not accept anything!   With his gracious help, we were able to proceed onward towards Idaho. 

            Mom said they met hardly any traffic while traveling those miles and miles of road in Wyoming. They probably traveled at a speed of 30 to 35 miles an hour in a car where there was no heater except maybe some heat from the motor which was conveyed from a hood cover the exhaust manifold through the fire wall at the front of the vehicle.

            They made it to Ogden, Utah that night.  According to mom, there wasn't any room to stay in any of the hotels.  A man at the saloon took pity on us and put us up above the bar where there was a room with a bed. The people in the saloon were apparently having fun and made a lot of noise, including coming up and down the stairs. (This may have been a house of prostitution.)  They instructed Dad to lock the door, stick a chair under the door handle, and to watch that no one got into the room.  They gave him a stick of firewood with which he was told to hit any man over the head that tried to enter. The next day they were able to reach Mom’s parents house at Twin Falls, Idaho.