More memories of AP by Alice Matlack

June, 1993

Our brother Forrest certainly had a good idea when he put together this Centennial Memorial to our Father Alanson P Holly. Now some years later I would like to add to what I wrote originally.

My remembering begins with the St Louis days since I was two and a half when we moved there. As a little girl I recall being proud of Faffy and loving him but also being afraid of him. I am sure he did not want to be, but it certainly did affect my relationship with him. I had to work out of this fear and it took many years. I am sure that Forrest asking me to write about him in this group of papers forced me to at last start to deal with my thoughts about him. So I owe Forrest a debt of gratitude for that. My former attitude has been replaced with and increasing awareness of, and appreciation for, Daddy's outstanding qualities and the great good he was responsible for in the lives of his children. His family was extremely important to him and he gave us his all. He was a continual teacher in every way showing us the need to do the best we could in every area of our lives. I was just 21 when he left us and so did not know him as an adult. This I regret.

He told us several things about his childhood. One time when he was a little boy he accidentally spilled some sugar on the floor. I am really not sure how old he was. His father made him get down on his hands and knees and lick it up. He felt very humiliated. The pictures of his parents show them to be sad and severe looking. He was a Protestant boy and said the Irish Catholic boys from the Catholic school would way lay the Protestant boys as they walked to and from school and beat them up.

Mother told me when she knew him as a college man and when they were a young married couple he was the life of the party and he also was often asked to sing having a great baritone voice. Some pictures from those day show him having fun. Mother said they were poor for so long and it was so difficult to earn a living those first years, then when things got better in St Louis he was so busy running the business that this lighter side of him was not often apparent. He was very intense and of an artistic nature and so emotional that he covered it up by not being outwardly affectionate to any of us. Later one could see it however when he was with little children like Holly and Alice, his grandchildren. He was so dear to them. Also, some of his letters reveal this side of him. One he wrote me when I was in high school and he and Mother were on a trip back east. It is address to “The Cabin Fireplace” and is a part of this compilation. It is priceless to me.

One vivid memory of the time in St Louis happened when I was younger than ten,, but I am not sure how old. Mother had left some change on the counter of the pantry and I just took it and hid it upstairs in my things. I have no clear idea of why I did that as I never went shopping myself. That night when we were all having dinner in the dinning room, white table cloth and all because that is what we did when he was home with us, I was as usual seated to his left as he was at the head of the table. He told about Mother missing the money and began with Elizabeth, the oldest, and asked each of us in turn if he or she had taken the money. I remember the dread I felt and after all the others answered “No”, so did I. I cannot believe that I did not show that I was guilty on my face, but the subject was dropped. Soon as I could get to Mother after dinner, alone, I told her what I had done, cried and begged her not to tell him. I of course returned the money and felt it a great comfort that Mother did not tell him and that was the end of it. But it really was not the end because I learned a powerful lesson that stealing and lying just do not work for me. Now that I am a parent I have no doubt that Mother did tell Daddy but both probably felt I needed no further punishment, thus showing what good and understanding parents they were.

Daddy was a born organizer, a leader of men, a manager. Whenever he was talking to me about anything serious or instructing me he would tell me to look him straight in the eye. It seemed to me his look went right through me and it was always difficult for me. The people who worked for him liked him immensely and he was good to them. I always admired how neat and clean he was in his personal and living habits. I liked what good clothes he wore, tailor made, and how clean and neat his fingernails always looked. He did not buy cheap things but instead bought quality in clothes, furniture, and cars as long as he could. He taught us to appreciate quality and to take care of what we had and make it last. He taught us to be honest and fair in our dealings with others, to respect others' property and to be industrious, to think for ourselves and just be a follower of the crowd.

Mother and Daddy had in St Louis, interesting, educated and intelligent friends. When we came to Ramona, Daddy had friends from all walks of life. He was just as interested in and comfortable with a college professor as and Indian from a Reservation, or a business man. He took time to know and appreciate each individual. He did unusual things often. One time he invited a Ramona farmer who lived alone to come to Thanksgiving Dinner with us. He valued the uniqueness of individuals. He sought out boys somehow who needed help and encouragement and did what he could for them often giving them jobs at the Ranch. We had some real strange boys there at times. One in particular I did not appreciate having around as a girl in High School, but now realize how kind Daddy was being in trying to help one who so needed guidance and understanding. Since returning to Ramona at a High School Reunion one time, a former classmate told me that when he was in high school with me, he so greatly needed a job and some money and Daddy had hired him and encouraged him and he never forgot it. This man now is one of the big achievers from our class.

Daddy was so good to my Mother's Mother who was a widow for many years. He took her on trips with them, she visited us a lot, he bought her a fur coat, sent her on a trip to California with my Mother form St Louis and much more.

Daddy loved and respected my Mother. She told me they were the happiest with each other when Helen was a baby, although very poor. The business took so much of his time in St Louis and when we moved to California as Forrest explains in what he wrote, Daddy's money problems began again. He had retired in 1931 with what he though were enough investments to take care of us all, but the depression lasted so long that it ruined his stocks. When he passed on there was $60 in the bank and no life insurance. It was a fearful cloud over his head and I do not remember him as a happy man in California. He was, however, the best when we were on trips, it seemed to lift the burden a little and he was able to relax and be more pleasant. He took us on wonderful trips, the National Parks were his cup of tea and were a natural for him with his love of nature and beauty. He taught us to appreciate so much in life. The Parks are still some of my most favorite places. He did so much for us even though he was worried about money and I do not know how he did it, but what a wonderful thing it was for us kids to see so much of the Southwest.

E greatly admired Teddy Roosevelt and was very similar to him in many ways. He preferred classical music but also loved Irish and Scottish music and Hawaiian music. He took all eight of us to the weekly summer performances of light opera in Forest Park in St Louis. I still remember the words to much of the music and some of the stories of the plays. I just loved that too! He introduced the magical world of classic literature to me; one of the greatest joys in life.

He wanted us to THINK and remember! I failed him in this more than once. One time when I was in high school and was driving him somewhere as he often wanted me to do, I exclaimed about a group of black cattle in a field and wondered aloud what kind they were. He was disgusted with me and said “They are Black Angus and I have told you that before!”. I used to try and keep out of trouble by not talking too much and therefore saying the wrong thing when with him. I observed what anyone else in the family did that got them into trouble and tried not to do it. This did not always work, of course, and yet only once did I really get into deep trouble with him when I was in 8th grade, in Ramona. Now that I know how deeply rewarding and incredibly difficult it is at times to be a parent, I realize what an unusually fine parent he was and have great respect and admiration for him.

He wanted us to be refined and polite, to have dignity and high aims and ideals. He gave us an outstanding example to follow. I recall Forrest telling me when he was grown up that he decided to tell Daddy an off-color joke for the first time. Daddy did not laugh and said “Where did you hear that dirty story?” with marked disapproval.

He did not have an easy life as a child or as an adult. But he excelled as a man, remaining true to his highest sense of right. I wish he could have known all of his grandchildren and great grandchildren; he would have delighted in you all.

Alice Holly Matlack

Alanson Perry Holly by Alice Holly Matlack

Alanson Perry Holly by Alice Holly Matlack

2/23/79

Alanson P Holly was born in 1879. He married Mabel Elizabeth Barbour in 1905. The first of their six children arrived in 1906; the last, in 1921.

It is with love and appreciation for both our parents and for the quality of home life they provided for us that I, Alice Janette, the last “sprig of the Holly Tree” as Daddy might have put it, here give my impressions of the good I remember about him.

First, it was certain that he loved his family. He endeavored to enrich our lives in many ways. He read out loud to us, poetry by James Whitcome Riley, “Pickwick Papers” by Charles Dickens, and others. His obvious delight in them and his expressive reading were contagious. He could sing beautifully and taught us many wonderful songs, which we often sang together when traveling as a family in the car. We had summer season tickets to the performances of The Municipal Opera Company at St Louis, presented in Forest Park. I was allowed to go, too, even though I was under ten years of age. I greatly enjoyed them and still remember many of the stories and songs.

He suggested, when I was a little older, that I read “The Old Curiosity Shop” by Dickens, which began my continuing enjoyment of good literature. Also, he gave me a copy of Shakespeare's “Hamlet” and made it possible for me to attend most of the performances at “The Old Globe Theatre” given during the San Diego World Exposition. The was my delightful and an invaluable introduction to Shakespeare.

We, the children, were included! As a family, we went to fine places to eat, took exceptional trips such as the trip by train to New Orleans for the Christmas Holidays, and the extensive tour of the Southwest in 1930. That was indeed a treat for a nine-year old girl who dreamed of someday owning her own horse. It was a grand adventure, top drawer all the way.

Daddy was an ecologist well before most of the country. In our house, we did not waste water or electricity. Never did we throw anything from the car that would damage or deface the landscape.

We were made aware of beauty in nature, the sky, the stars, the earth and its creatures, both wild and tame. He introduced us to a variety of experiences, for instance, a walk through the woods and along a railroad track where we found a wounded black crow, brought him home to live on the screened-in back porch till he was well enough to take over his own life. Also, on weekends, we sometimes visited two different farm families, living in very rural conditions. At one of those farms, my brother, Forrest, became fond of a baby goat and was permitted to bring her home for a pet.

We attended a Black Baptist Church as visitors, in St Louis and once watched a group of Black people being baptized in the Mississippi River. Later when we lived in the West, we helped build our own cabin at the Ranch, we visited old Missions, saw rodeos, the desert in full Spring-time bloom, climbed a mountain, went to Indian Fiestas, and saw Indian dances. The most important of all to me was that he made it possible for my brother, Forrest, and me to have our own horses in Ramona, one of the greatest joys of my life.

When given a job to do, we knew it must be started promptly, worked at to the best of our ability, and completely and satisfactorily finished. He developed in us, integrity and self-reliance. When one was given the privilege of owning an animal, being it a rabbit, banty chicken, dog, or horse, the complete care and responsibility for that animal was the job of the owner, and we understood it was to be done well, consistently, and without being reminded to do so.
I started piano lessons, probably about nine years old, and well remember him telling me to set up my own practice schedule and that I could continue the lessons just as long as I faithfully practiced.
He was a leader. He gave us an example to follow of integrity, honesty, respect for others' rights and property, obeying the laws of the land, and an awareness and appreciation for the freedoms we enjoy in this great country. He encourages us to thank for ourselves and not just follow the crowd; to do the right thing, not necessarily the easy or popular thing.
I was soon to be 21 years of age when he passed on. As the above indicates, I still benefit from the influence he had on my life.
This cannot be ended without mention of our Mother. She was a lady, intelligent, with high standards and ideals, having a kind, gentle, good disposition. She was a loving Mother to each of her six children and a wife to this most unusual man. That is an accomplishment worthy of praise. I'm thankful to have been in this family.

A letter from AP Holly to his daughter Alice Holly when she was a Junior in High School

Ramona, California - 1935


Alanson in Ramona, California - 1937

Dear Cabin Fireplace,-

Have you seen anything lately of a young lady we left in charge of the ranch? If so, what was she doing? Has she been running away from school? Has she forgotten that pony out there in the barn? I believe the pony's name is Gypsie, if my recollection serves me correctly. What have you been doing there all alone for hours at a time? How does it seem to sit there bolt upright with nothing to eat for such long periods? And indeed it is no small eater you are too. Your mouth is as big as a whale's, or even bigger; anyhow I kno you have swallowed many a valuable log without so much as a spell of hiccoughs. I have thought at times calling in a doctor to diagnose your case and then, if possible, to recommend a palliative. Then again I have always relented, for, indeed, you have fully paid for all you have eaten, many times over; for what or who could ever take your place? Oh the happy, happy times we have all had there in the evening as we have talked and laughed and played! When all the children have been at home – then is the best time. Once in a while, the last year or two, I am sad to say, there have been evenings when not one of the children have been sitting by you, with us, and when that happens why I just look into your deep heart of fire and you seem to understand for you make images of the children, one by one, --- there is Elizabeth as she used to be and as she is now with her own little ones – there is Bud bringing home jack-knives he used to find by the dozen – there is Mary coming home from town so full of good cheer and happiness – and Helen hitching up Mickey to the cart – Forrest jumping over a twelve foot pole and Alice ironing her clothes. Old fireplace, you kno all about what's going on and you adapt yourself to our moods, as, indeed, all good fireplace should do. I will confess that there have been times when you were not at all hungry but I have fed you just the same; plenty of evenings when the cabin would have been warm enough without your help but when I would look over at you, all cold, you seemed out of the picture and I am sure that, more then once, I distinctly heard you say, “Hey Boss, have a heart; throw me a stick or two, light me up so that I may have a share in what's going forward.” And what a feast is in store for you when we get home; because there must be an accumulation of papers without end. But I have a sneaking notion that on Sundays since we have been away you have not been entirely forgotten. Now look here old top, mind you take good care of the present ranch boss in my absence for if you let anything happen to her, I warn you,, I will blow you to bits.

With the deepest affection,

Boss

Daytona, Florida
February 17 38