By Jessica Gorman
“And then there was Bobby.” That’s how Mrs. Cora Lou Robinson started her story about Bobby Joel Boyce. Bobby was born 21 October 1934. He was the only child of John Allen and Lavada Boyce.
In December 1941, Bobby won 3rd place in a “Letters to Santa” contest held by the Webster Review and Signal Tribune. His letter reads:
“Dear Santa,
I am a big seven year old boy. My name is Bobby. I won’t ask for very much this year, for my daddy was in an accident and I have to learn to be a little man.
I would like a punching bag and a target set and maybe some overalls for school.
Don’t forget Mommy and Daddy.
Love,
Bobby Boyce
First Grade”
The accident Bobby refers to occurred in September of that year. According to the Webster Review and Signal Tribune, John Allen Boyce was seriously injured in an automobile accident at the intersection of McIntyre Road and Bellevue Road. He and his two brothers, William and James, and his brother-in-law, Raymond Massie, were on their way to Bodcau to go fishing. The newspaper reports that he suffered a broken shoulder and internal injuries resulting from being thrown from the vehicle when it collided with another car.
In October 2014, Cora Lou shared a story about her classmate Bobby that occurred at Christmas the following year.
“At Christmas time in grammar school (that’s what elementary school was called back in those days) we all drew names and would bring a gift to our school party for the person whose name we drew. Now each person was supposed to receive one gift, but there were a few girls in our class who got piles of gifts given by lots of children in class. Our teacher stood at the front of the room and went on and on about how many gifts those girls received. You can imagine how the rest of us felt. I don’t remember what I got, but Bobby got a little wooden truck that he kept rolling back and forth across his desk. I guess he must have sensed that I was somewhat upset over only getting one gift because he said, ‘You don’t need a lot of presents to be happy. This little truck is all I need. Don’t you see what a good time I’m having with one simple little truck?’ Those were his exact words and I won’t ever forget them. “
Just a few months later, on the afternoon of 4 April 1943, Bobby Joel Boyce drown in Cooley Creek. He was only eight years old. A group of teens who had been picnicking at the creek tried to stop him from jumping in the creek. When he failed to resurface, they were able to attract the attention of Albert Williams who pulled Bobby from the creek. All efforts to save him were unsuccessful. He was buried in the Minden Cemetery just a few days before his father’s birthday.
The following appeared in the Grammar School News of the Webster Review on 13 April 1943. “The school was saddened this week by the untimely death of little Bobby Boyce. Bobby had many friends among the students and faculty of this school, in whose hearts his memory will live on. We extend our deepest sympathy to his parents and relatives.” They were right. His memory continues to live on.
After his death, Bobby’s parents moved to New Orleans where his father worked as a welder in a shipyard. They were only there a short time when John Allen Boyce fell ill. Just 18 months after Bobby’s death, his father also passed away at the age of 34. Lavada Boyce had lost her only child and her husband. Her father had also passed away earlier that year.
It’s a heartbreaking story, but one worth knowing. It’s a story that we wouldn’t know if it wasn’t for Cora Lou. She never forgot Bobby. When she shared her story, she couldn’t remember Bobby’s last name. By searching death records, Schelley Francis was able to solve that piece of the puzzle. From there, the decision was made to place a wreath at Bobby’s grave. Attached to the wreath is a wooden truck carefully chosen by Schelley to be like the one Bobby would have received. Present at the wreath placement were Cora Lou, Schelley, Bobby’s Aunt Janell Boyce Dickinson, Mary Jo Kirkland, Jenny Kennon, Lyda Madden, Ann Harlan, Laverne Kidd, and Joyce Carey.
Every year at Christmas, that wreath with the little wooden truck and a copy of Bobby’s story is placed at his grave. He lived such a short life but because of Cora Lou he is not forgotten. We remember him and his wise words. “You don’t need a lot of presents to be happy. This little truck is all I need. Don’t you see what a good time I’m having with one simple little truck?”
(Jessica Gorman is Executive Director of the Dorcheat Historical Association Museum, Webster Parish Historian, and an avid genealogist.)