(To listen to the audio of this blog post, use the purple play button.)
· James Andrew Woodson: A Family View ·

When I asked Leland Woodson, 84 years of age, for an interview about his father, James A. Woodson (1893-1971), my interest was mainly his dad’s career as a Hutchinson Police Officer from 1927-1949. I understood that I’d only get a glimpse of the officer’s lengthy service. After all, I was writing a blog, not a book.
When I arrived, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that three of Leland’s siblings, all sisters, Galena Mae (Crable), 90; Geraldine (Triplett), 87; and Theda (Sorenson), 85; would be joining us at the dining room table for an extended conversation. There would certainly be an abundance of information.
True enough, I heard a lot about “daddy” as they remembered him around the house, not on police duty.

I learned that in the day, when James was young, the Plummer sisters had a reputation far and wide as the most gorgeous girls in Hutchinson. This in part led James to marrying Thelma Plummer sooner rather than later.
James was a World War I veteran who wrote letters home for many other soldiers who hadn’t learned the skill. He helped teach them reading and writing prior to, during, and after the journey by ship to France.
After James was hired by the Hutchinson Police Department (HPD), he walked a beat, especially on South Main. The police department was practicing community policing before they had a name for it. It made sense. Woodson knew the people and the people knew him.
This was in the day when there were more officers than departmental cars and motorcycles. On a few occasions I’ve read about a local police officer, including Officer Woodson, stopping a citizen’s car and ordering the surprised civilian driver: “follow that car!”
James A. Woodson, “daddy” to the children, was known in the community as “the mayor of the south end.” I liked the ring to that. He was a busy man both on and off duty. People would stop by the house and seek help and advice. I’d also read that people borrowed money from him, and there were times when he wasn’t paid back.
The adult Woodson children told me that even today people recall how appreciative they are that Officer Woodson took them to their home when they were drunk rather than to the city jail.
Foolishly, I thought I’d surprise the four Woodson’s with an interesting fact. “Did you know that your father was a city dog catcher prior to being hired by the police department in 1927?”
“Where do you think we got Buttons, the little rat terrier?” I was asked. Yes, of course, they knew he was a dog catcher.
James had a good sense of humor. People knew he had a lot of kids but when he was asked, “How many?” he’d pretend he wasn’t sure, so he’d call home and ask Thelma: “Honey, how many kids have we got?” After September 15, 1943, the correct and final answer was eleven.

Before Hispanics were hired on the police force, James learned to speak and understand Spanish so he could become the department’s interpreter. He studied the language using Galena Mae’s high school Spanish textbook, working with a tutor, and interacting at a Mexican store.
Raymond Alfaro visited the Woodson home and gave Spanish lessons to James. Then Woodson would practice his conversational Spanish at a little Mexican store that had Mexican families living nearby. This was an example of Officer Woodson seeking out opportunities to become more helpful and increase his value.
Today, the children are still surprised that during their dad’s police career he consistently made the family’s six o’clock sit-down dinner around the round kitchen table. Daddy would decide what they talked about. The girls remembered how “he taught us manners, math, grammar, and a lot on politics.” They had math contests at home. “Daddy was an excellent mathematician. He loved numbers.”
James was a politician. “He was a Republican until they let him know they didn’t need him anymore.” He attended the Republican National Convention as a delegate for Eisenhower in San Francisco and helped Ike get elected in 1957.” Locally, he also helped Bob Dole in his election.
What a well-respected, influential, talented guy, I thought. But I was surprised again when I heard: “Daddy could play the piano, and play the banjo too. He used to be in a band.” My goodness, was there anything he couldn’t do?
No, in fact, “he was an inventor,” Leland told me. James had patented a firearms target that electronically recorded the scores of shooters.
I’d read in old newspaper articles that James was a member of the Bethel A.M.E. Church, but the children offered a more personal view. “Dad did not go to church. He didn’t have much respect for ministers. He knew too much about them.”
When I mentioned how I noticed that the Hutchinson News would promote local Emancipation Proclamation festivities every summer, and it seemed like James was always the president of the Lincoln Club, the children remembered how they had participated annually in preparing invitations to be sent out through the mail across the state.
I never asked a question about race or racism but Galena Mae volunteered that, like their neighbors, they had no money. They didn’t have any reason to go downtown and they sure weren’t going to go out to eat. “We didn’t need to go to a restaurant. There were eleven of us! Mama could cook.”
The adult children remembered as kids going over to the Arkansas River to play and swim since the municipal pool at Carey Park was segregated, enforcing the socially unjust “white only” law.

The adult children always thought that maybe their dad was cheating while playing checkers and dominoes. “Why did you think he was cheating?” I asked. “Because he always won!” was the unanimous response. He was an excellent card and domino player. And, of course, they remembered being put in a cell at the police station by their daddy, just so they’d know what it was like.
When I mentioned that James had run for sheriff in 1956, no one was surprised. “Mama didn’t want him to run.”
The adult kids recalled all their time spent taking care of the family lawn. “We never had a sticker in that grass! Daddy would fertilize the yard” but we’d make sure it was weed-free.
Galena Mae recalled there was never any fighting and no reason for it. Geraldine added, “Why would we fight? We’d probably get a whippin’.”
As the adult children around me recalled their bedrooms having bunk beds and how the girls shared clothing, I could feel their excitement. I couldn’t imagine such a full house but clearly, their memories were good ones.
Eventually, the city changed the name of the 300 block of West E for a block to Woodson Plaza.
James was tremendously valuable to the department and to the community. When he retired, the city recognized the length and extraordinary service he had given. After twenty-two years on the police force, he was promoted to lieutenant. While the thought was appreciated, the promotion did not include any financial benefit.
The children thought that their father had never fired his revolver on duty while enforcing the law. Actually, to the surprise of many, that’s not uncommon. But clearly, Officer Woodson was in dangerous situations where he needed his gun out during high-risk or felony car stops and arrests. One time, he stopped a car with heavily armed bank robbers and took them to jail—with assistance I expect, unless he really was Superman—since I’ve never heard of a police officer carrying three pairs of handcuffs.
One impression, or collective memory of the Woodson’s, was that James served on the department longer than he did, into the 1950s. This may be due to the man remaining active and visible in policing arenas. After retiring he was a watchman, an active bondsman, and operated a merchant police service.
Leland had the unfortunate memory of May 20, 1971. He was working with his daddy when James fell off a ladder and hit his head on a concrete sidewalk. It was outside 11 East Ave E while the two of them were improving Leland’s club, La Wood. The injury to Woodson, affectionately known to the children as “daddy”, was fatal. He died at age 77.
James’ wife, Thelma Plummer (1898-1990), survived her husband until 1990, dying at age 91.

As the Woodson children prepared to end the interview about memories, they agreed about how fortunate they were to have the parents they had. “We grew up in a way to get along with and respect all people. We didn’t fight. We learned respect.”
Geraldine concluded, “I thank God we had the parents we had.”
Until next time, happy writing and reading!
A big thank you to Galena Mae Crable, Geraldine Triplett, Theda Sorenson, and Leland Woodson for allowing me to join them while they shared their memories.
Thanks to Sandy Woodson for the family photos and for taking a lead role with the editing.
Love hearing you read this terrific story!
Thanks! Yes, listening to it on the podcast adds to the experience.
Thanks Mr Potter for a great publication.
You’re welcome. My pleasure. An honor to be at the same table with all that Woodson wisdom at one time.
Fascinating, Jim. I love to hear family memories — especially good ones.
Thanks, Gloria! Nancy Julien Kopp reminds us that we should also write about the bad memories too. They serve a purpose. But yes, the happy endings are pretty neat. Jim
Wonderful story about a fine man and his family. You should give consideration to putting these interview stories into a book. Common, ordinary people who should be in the spotlight you’ve given them. The stories are told well, too. Thanks for sharing this one.
Nancy,
Thank you so much for your comments. Actually, you have influenced me more than you know. I just love deciding, researching, sometimes interviewing, writing, editing, and recording my weekly blogs. Recently, a novelist friend asked me when my next novel was coming out. After I told him I didn’t know if there would be another novel, he just stared at me, dumbfounded in shock as though I had gone over to the dark side. Then I replied, “Well, I could publish a book of my blogs.” He recovered control of his face, then agreed that would be an idea. The point is, you remind writers: not everyone needs to write a book to be satisfied or to be successful. Thanks again for sharing your wisdom, Jim
What a fair, unbiased man , that along with his wife, taught their children what the whole world should practice—– do not judge, separate, etc, another because of his color, religion, etc. Thanks, Jim, for the really great job putting all that information into a story. I would be proud to know those children because I was taught basically the same good values. And my dad (1887-1992) also was in France in WW1 in the 109 Infantry Engineers so you know he did a lot of walking ! But he was a true-blue rancher in Western South Dakota. And you should definitely make a book or something. Everybody doesn’t know about your blog !!!!!
Jerry, thank you so much for your comments. And I appreciate your father’s service. We can all scratch our heads when kids don’t learn positive values from their parents. So many factors to consider. What brought you to Kansas from South Dakota? Jim
What an utterly amazing story. It is more a testament to a man and a time and less about a police officer. (This is where your writing skill captivates the reader and then takes them on a different and unexpected journey.)
Too often, people would like to put down the notion of the “good old days”, implying we fondly remember the positive things and hide or forget the negative ones. This family, however, embraced all of life as it came to them.
This post reminds us that Humanity, Decency, Dignity, Honor, and Respect are not merely words but reasonable codes to live by.
Thank you as always.
H.B,
Thanks for your comments. Yes, a great family. Since I’ve read a lot of old newspapers lately, next week’s blog will be about James A. Woodson from the newspapers point of view, not from the family’s.
See you soon.
Jim
Wonderful interview, Jim! Thank you!
Marilyn, thanks!
Great article!
Thanks, Ellen!
Very interesting article. I learned so much about Mr. Woodson.
Thanks for the comment, Kathleen. So did I! Next week I will return for another view of James A. Woodson. Of course, it will be very positive only it will be from the perspective of having read a lot of old newspaper articles. He will have comments about race because that is an issue that surfaces in the media. At home, children just see their father as “daddy.”
Very well done, Jim! Enjoy your blog!
Earl, thanks!
Excellent story. I particularly appreciate that you did not use race as a means to define the man, which made the tribute even more poignant. In fact, if not for the family photos no one would know. All that matters is that he was a beloved man and community leader. So many others when given the subject matter would have simply framed the material in a way that focused on what he accomplished without the aid of forced integration. Keep up the good work.
Thanks so much, Doug! This is the difference between knowing someone intimately (like the children knowing their daddy) or personally (a friend) vs. judging a person from stories in the media (newspapers, social media). Next week’s blog will give a perspective of Woodson gleaned from old newspaper articles. Although James will still be viewed as a remarkable person, the difference in focus will be interesting. Race will be mentioned since there is racism. There were times he was sought out for his point of view and other times when he had to speak up and speak out.
This is a great blog post written by my friend and website client Jim Potter. It is a MUST READ for Hutch people, but everyone will find it fascinating as it focuses on a local black man’s life, especially focusing on his experiences as the first African American police officer in Hutchinson back in 1927.
Jim always includes an audio version with each post, and you can listen to today’s post at http://bit.ly/jwoodsonhutch. Or click on the book image to read the article instead.
You also will want to follow Jim at https://www.facebook.com/jimpotterauthor/ and subscribe on his website to read his ideas and insights every week. https://jimpotterauthor.com
Wonderful blog, Jim! I love this personal look at a local hero.
Thanks, Rebecca. Sometimes in interviews, I get to meet the most interesting people–living and dead. Then my challenge to to share those people with as many other people as possible. Saving stories.