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Raymond Clement Stallman
Clem and Anna
Frank
Victoria
Paul
Lawrence
Albert
Leona
Marie
Henry

Ray
Thanks for the
photo Hilda!
Posted
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Raymond was born Oct. 27,
1911 to Clemens Anton STALLMAN and Anna Mary SCHELLE at Reliance
and grew to manhood on the family farm southeast of Reliance with the
exception of the five years the family lived at Plankinton and White
Lake, SD where Clem sold his Rawleigh products. The family returned to
the farm near Reliance in 1918.
He attended North Cooper school south of the farm as did all of the
Stallman children, through the eighth grade. Then he worked on the
family farm and for farmers in the area until he
went into the service of his country.
Every WWII letter he wrote home to his mother was saved by her and
they are in my (barbara stallman-speck)
possession. Following his discharge Ray and
his friend, France Cullen, purchased the Ochletree service station in
Reliance which he operated until the time of his passing on Oct. 30,
1960, following an automobile accident three miles east of Reliance.
Ray's WWII letters can be read at
http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~sdlyman/Military/Letters/WWII/stallman.ray.htm
Ray never married, but led the good life of
wine, women and whatever. He was either the tallest of all of the
Stallman men, or just looked like he was because he was thin as a rail.
Everyone always said he could run faster backwards than he could
forward. All of the little ones loved to walk up his legs, over his
chest and up onto his shoulders as he held their hands tightly. It was
like walking up a telephone pole! He could also "crawl through a broom."
To crawl through a broom, one had to hold a broom in front of himself
with both hands outstretched. Then step over the broom one leg at a time
and then lift the broom up over your hear (from the back) ending with
the broom back in front. Maybe many people can do it. He was the only
person I ever saw who could.
Bear walk ... He would sit on the floor and
pull his ankles toward himself and put his left foot behind the right
side of his neck, then the right foot back behind the left side of his
neck. Then he would move forward and hobble across the floor on his
knees with his ankles locked behind his head.
He joined the US Army July 8, 1942, serving
until being honorably discharged Oct. 25, 1945. A record of Cpl.
Raymond C. Stallman's whereabouts with the 1st Calvary Div. (Asiatic
Pacific Theatre, Luzon and Tokyo) has been found and is published as
found. Many of his documents have "The 1st was first," written on them.
He is buried in St. Mary's Catholic Cemetery
north of Reliance alongside his parents, brothers, Paul and Albert, and
sister, Victoria. He never married.
Raymond Clement Stallman
Funeral services were held for Raymond Clement Stallman at St. Mary's
Catholic Church in Reliance.
He was born Oct. 27, 1911 at Reliance to Clemens and Anna Mary
Schelle Stallman. He grew up on the family farm three miles southeast of
Reliance and attended North Cooper School through the eighth grade.
He served from 1942-1945 in the Pacific Theatre during WWII.
He was a member of the American Legion Post No. 178 and was a member
of St. Mary's Catholic Church.
Following his return from the war, he and a friend, France Cullen,
bought Ocheltree's Service Station in Reliance which he continued to
operate until his death in an automobile accident east of Reliance on
Oct. 30, 1960.
Burial was in St. Mary's Catholic Cemetery beside his parents.
My Uncle Ray story as written
for my column (Here I go ... thinking again) published in the Chamberlain-Oacoma Register
in the 1990's. barbara
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Uncle Ray's station in Reliance
was a safe haven for me
I
have probably told this before, but I'm going to tell it again.
When I was a little girl wandering the streets of Reliance, my
Uncle Ray Stallman had this horribly filthy auto shop and gas
station on the north end of Main Street, downtown Reliance. Back
then, it was like my home away from home and I didn't see the
dirt. Now, looking back, unh, unh, unh. What a place! It did,
however, have very good candy bars and a pop machine with cold
Nesbitts orange or strawberry pop ... can't you just taste it?
I remember pretty much just having "free range" with the pop and
candy. But I digress.
There were always men in there getting machinery parts
worked on or inner tubes patched or whatever, and they would
play penny ante (I thought it was Penny Annie) with me, and I
always won. Weren't they nice? I thought I was the luckiest kid
in town. There was always a "punchboard" on the counter, too.
The cost of the punch was anywhere from one penny to one
dollar. You "punched a little pleated piece of paper out
of a hole to see how much your punch cost. Then wrote your name
on the corresponding numbered line on the back. Once all punches
were gone there was a "scratch off" circle with the winning
number. Whoever bought the "lucky punch" won the prize ... a
camera, a watch, or a stuffed animal. I always won the prize,
too. No one could convince me I wasn't the luckiest kid in town.
Anyway, my favorite uncle in the world, Lawrence Nanneman
(married Frances Stallman, my dad's sister,) taught me to spell
Mississippi by saying M-I-crooked letter, crooked letter I;
crooked letter, crooked letter I; hump back, hump back I.
That was always good for a
nickel. If I
held my eyes open wide enough, I
might get two nickels. I remember standing on my tip toes trying
to get those eyes open wider so I'd get that extra nickel. I
always wondered what good would ever come of the crooked letter,
crooked letter business. Is that really something one really
needs to know? What purpose could it possibly serve? Who knows?
Or, who cares?
Monday morning in the middle of all of the hubbub in the
office, someone asked how to spell Mississippi and just like
that ... it came back to me! Now I
know why I learned it that way. I did not spell it by letters
... I spelled it by rote! Finally, after 50 years, I get to show
off my Mississippi expertise. Thank you, Uncle Lawrence.
As I mentioned the Nesbitts orange pop,
another memory flooded through my old foggy brain. My dad. That
guy could chug-a-lug a bottle of
orange pop so fast I thought he was Superman and there was no
doubt in my mind that he wasn't. When we were moving houses or
building granaries, we would go to the local Farmer's Union
Co-op (before convenience stores) to get three bottles of pop;
two for him and one for me. His first one was gone before I'd
even get started on mine.
What a guy! How could anybody drink a whole pop without
stopping! Would I ever be able to do that? I've never really
tried so I don't know, however, I did drink a
gallon of draft
once without stopping, but that's another story and probably
better left untold.
Bottle of pop. Do we say "bottle of pop" anymore? Do we
drink "soda"? Do they make glass bottles anymore? We used to
hunt for those glass pop bottles to sell at Hank's Market for
three to five cents apiece. Spending money for a candy bar or a
movie in Chamberlain. What ever became of the Seven-Up candy bar?
My goodness, this opens a whole plethora of questions, doesn't
it? Maybe not. And where is Mr. Peanut? I think I need to get
out of the house more!
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