by
Fred McCaleb
My father was H McCaleb. The H was just a letter of the alphabet and not an
initial for a given name. Sometimes it was spelled Aytch. His mother, Rejina
Catherine Hollingsworth McCaleb, studied the Blueback Speller (memorized much
of it) at the little log schoolhouse she attended. She memorized the spelling
of all the alphabetic letters, and for some reason she called my dad's first
name H. My dad was born February 18, 1893 in Northeast Fayette County Alabama.
His parents were James (Jim) Franklin McCaleb and Rejina Catherine
Hollingsworth. Rejina's mother was a McCaleb,
daughter of Andrew McCaleb. Andrew was an older brother of Alfred McCaleb.
Grandpa Jim McCaleb was the son of Alfred McCaleb. So I suppose my father must
have been loaded with McCaleb genes.
My father was the oldest of the Jim McCaleb family. Jim and Rejina got off on
the wrong start at the beginning of their marriage. Jim and Rejina ran away to
Jim from the start. Jim and Rejina started farming, the mule died and the crop
failed, and by that time my dad was born. Jim was faced with feeding the
family. He went to
ranch there. Whether he worked for this uncle I never found out. My grandmother
went home to her Hollingsworth parents. She and baby H resided there until
grandpa arrived back from
dad and grandma for a year or two. In
from the legs on down. The lightning knocked the tacks out of his shoes. He
kept the shoes and showed them to visitors all during his lifetime. By the time
daddy started to school John R. Hollingsworth had given grandma a track of
woodland. Grandpa hewed out logs for a one room log house, and had cleared up
some land for crops. My dad went to school at Clover Hill. Clover Hill was a
church building about a mile away. The church buildings also served as school
buildings at that time. Religion and learning were freely mixed. I went to that
one teacher school when I was in the third grade. My dad didn't seem to
accomplish much learning in school. He was left handed. The teacher tried to
make him use his right hand. One of his teachers was Raymond W. Hiten. After my
dad got older his father kept him out of school much of the time to help with
the farm work. So his education was of a meager amount of book learning. He
could write a little and read slowly. In his older days, the main thing he read
was the Bible. Mr. Hiten's son, Hollis Hiten, told me of dad being in the school
play one time. Dad played the part of the hoot owl in a tree outside the
building. Hollis said dad did real well with that. I suppose dad had the
equivalent of about a fifth grade education.
My dad was a farm boy during his youth. Farm families hoped to have boy babies
back then. They could help their father do hard work. Grandpa tried to get as
much work as possible from my dad. He had a crop to make every summer, and
woodland to be cleared of trees every winter. So my dad was trained to use a
cross cut saw, a chopping axe, a broad axe, how to hoe cotton and corn and how
to plow a mule. He knew all about hitching mules to buggies, wagons, and plows.
He came up in the tradition of hard work, hard knocks, and bad luck. Not much
was done back then to boost his ego. He did manage to buy a fancy riding saddle
by the time he was grown. He could then show off by riding his horse or mule at
high speed to the church gatherings. I recollect his saddle. It finally
deteriorated sometime after I was grown. Owning a fancy saddle and fast horse
back in his early days was about like owning a fancy high speed sports car
today. Dad's education was more of a learning by doing manual farm labor than
of school learning. My dad rebelled against grandpa about the time he was
grown. He and grandpa got crosswise about something. Grandpa tried to punish
him for. He left on a train for
done. He found a job in The Rio Grande valley as a hand on a vegetable farm. In
about six months or a year he became tired of that and wrote a conciliatory
letter to grandpa for money to pay railroad fare back home to
sent enough money for the train fare, but nothing for eating. It took two or
three days to get back from
He then stayed home until he married my mother, Eza Etta Hallmark.
My dad was more of a sociable being than was my mother. According to Myrtle
Ervin Herren, he could be talked into driving the mule wagon with Myrtle and
his sister Mary McCaleb to social events. Myrtle described a bob tailed grey
mule and a black mule that grandpa had. Dad would hitch the mules to a wagon
and drive the girl’s high speed to an all day singing. Myrtle was amused at how
the bob tail mule's tail flopped around as they proceeded to a gathering. Dad
must have been easy prey for the girls to talk him into taking them where they
wanted to go. Dad was sociable in other ways. He always liked to fox hunt and
kept fox hunting hound dogs. He had many fox hunting friends. The friends would
talk him into going fox hunting Saturday night. They would stay out all night
listening to the dogs run the fox and tell big tales. Also they liked to brag
on the dogs. My mother wasn't too impressed with this. I wasn't either. I went
fox hunting one time. That turned out to be enough for me for a lifetime. My
mother cooked cornbread for the dogs. The dogs were never allowed inside the
house as many modern little and big pet dogs are allowed. My dad never expected
to imprison his dogs. He wanted them to be free to run rabbits, bark at “buggars”
or do what they wished at night. Dad had too many fox hunting friends. He most
always tried to go to church, at least as long as I knew, each Sunday. He was
biased against other religious beliefs other than his own. The best I could
find out, when young, my dad got into trouble using too much alcohol a time or
two. Momma said that soon after they were married, some of dad's social friends
got him drunk? at an all day singing. He got fined a few dollars. Momma paid off
the fine. She also let him know that such behavior shouldn't happen again.
Another fellow told me that his daddy and my daddy got into a fight with a
black boy at some social gathering. They didn't think the black boy should be
there and raised a fuss with him and hurt him. I never thought my dad was
biased against the blacks. He and Dave McCollum, a black, used to cut railroad
crossties together when I was a little boy. They could hue out eight in a day.
The next day they would load the ties on a wagon and take them to Bazemore and
receive fifty cents apiece for the ties, thereby making one dollar a day. It
was hard work, and the compensation was about as good as they could get back
then. I still have the broadax my dad cut the ties with.
My dad married Eza Etta Hallmark of northeast Fayette County Alabama. She was
the daughter of Samuel Winn Hallmark and Mary Roxie Eason. They were married
August 15,1915 at the Hallmark parents home. Daddy had a mule and the fancy
saddle mentioned earlier when he was courting momma. He lived about 5 miles
from where momma lived. I guess they met at Killingsworth (Now Newriver)
church. Grandma's sister Martha Hollingsworth married Melton Woodard, and their
children were first cousins of my dad. I expect the Woodard cousins somehow made
the connection.The cousin Alma Woodard and my momma were big friends. She told
me that her and momma were the smartest two in the little school at
Killingsworth, and that their teacher tried to get them to take the test to
become qualified to teach school. They didn't take the test. Perhaps they were
more interested in becoming Mrs. H McCaleb and Mrs. Holly Tucker.
The children of H McCaleb and Eza Etta Hallmark were me, Fred McCaleb born
September 7, 1916, Hubert McCaleb born September 28, 1919, Clancy McCaleb (a
girl) born September 21, 1921, Thomas Raburn McCaleb born 27th July, 1925 and
died two years later, Clara Jean McCaleb born December 26, 1930 in Lee County
Mississippi, and Leroy Dewitt McCaleb born May 21, 1934. We were raised up much
as my dad had been raised up. By the influence of my mother, we were never
required to work many hours on the farm when school was in session. The first
three children never had any transportation other than their two feet, a mule
drawn wagon, and some train rides. We were required to work in the fields doing
hard farm manual labor. The last two children, Jean and Leroy were almost a
separate family from the first three. My dad had a Chevrolet pickup truck by
the time they were grown. The truck was the only auto he ever had during his
life. He paid for it mostly from an allotment from my pay while I was a soldier
in WW2. The wheel of progress? had turned slightly by the time Jean and Leroy
were grown. I had given them a bicycle to to get around on. So they had a
little more than their two feet and the mule drawn wagon. My sister Clancy
thought she was a boy, or at least she could do anything a boy could, until she
was about 16. We walked across most of the county one day by 1PM to our uncle
Arthur Hallmark's House. On arriving there Arthur persuaded Hubert and I to go
squirrel hunting. Clancy didn't go with us on that. We walked in the woods the
rest of the evening. We didn't have any trouble sleeping that night until 4AM
when Arthur came shouting "last call for breakfast." It was the habit of many
farmers back then to get up at 4-5 AM and get ready to go to work by daylight
in the fields. The work hours were from sunup to sundown with about an hour out
for lunchtime. It took most of that to get to the house, eat, and rest about 30
minutes.
Our growing up seemed mostly hardships to me. Our pleasures seemed to be mostly
non-existant. Hubert and I saved our money and bought a Sears and Roebuck 22
rifle for about seven dollars. We went squirrel hunting, but killed few
squirrels. We practiced target shooting. I shot at many birds. I shouldn't have
done that, but the birds were mostly safe. It was very rare that I ever hit one.
I got pleasure out of making truck wagons. The wheels were sawed from a black
gum log. We would ride the home made wagons down a steep hill in a path winding
between the trees. Hubert and I had one little red wagon my dad bought us when
very young. We and our friends tore it up in a month or two. Dad never bought
us another toy of any kind. That was probably the nicest thing he ever did for
me. I had to learn to use what few tools he owned and make things for myself.
When I was young I had a click and wheel to run up and down the gravel road.
The wheel was a rim off an old wagon wheel hub. The click was a stiff piece of
wire with a U on one end. The U fit the bottom back of the wheel and one ran
down the road making the wheel turn. Hubert, I, and our Trim boyfriends walked
to a few basketball games when in junior high school.
miles away. Wayside was about 6 miles away. I don't know if that was pleasure
or not. Anyhow we got our exercise. When I was young I was pretty good at
climbing trees. I climbed one slim tree to about 20 feet high. It bent over
with me down to about ten feet. I couldn't get back down via the tree, so I had
to let drop to the ground. I bent my knees so they would have spring and landed
safely. Young boys used to see how wide a ditch they could jump. I think about
6 feet wide was the best I ever did. I built a 2 seat farris wheel one time.
Clancy and someone, I think Hubert, agreed to test it. Clancy landed about 12
feet up in the air with Hubert on the bottom. She sort of got shook up but got
down some way, I don't know how fast. I had to write that project off as a
failure. One of my most pleasurable recollections was when I was at my grandpa
Jim McCaleb's house. I was about 9 years old. He was in the field plowing a
mule hooked to an Avery cricket turning plow. He let me plow a few rounds and I
thought I was really up in the world. No one had ever let me do that before. He
had trusted me and let me do something the grown ups did all the time. I was
wanting to be like the grownups. You had to set your life to the examples the
grown ups provided. There was no radio or tv to let one know how ignorant the
grownups were, and how to hate them. The way my grandparents picked up the news
back then was by going to some neighbors house nearly every night. They would
discuss their problems of the day, what they had heard about the neighbors,
etc. There was no instant news back then. When someone died the neighbors would
take turns staying up all night. Myrtle Erwin, my first school teacher, said she
just loved to stay up with grandpa McCaleb present. He would just keep on
talking, and she loved it. I never was as sociable as my grandpa McCaleb and my
dad. About the only advice my dad ever gave me about women was to marry a
healthy one. He said to examine their teeth like the horsetraders did in buying
and selling mules and horses. He also wanted me to be a decent person. My mother
said not to get married until I was 30 years old. I took their advice and got
married to a nice healthy woman.
My dad mostly raised his family in
recollect living was on Boxes Creek. It was away from everything, even a gravel
road. The school there was Skimming Ridge, a one teacher school. It was about
1/2 mile away. We walked a path that crossed Boxes Creek over a footlog with
only one banister to hold to. Momma's friend, Alma Sherer Kizzire, was the
second teacher I had there. She made an example out of her son Albert and
myself. We got the full round of punishments. At the time we lived there my dad
and his uncle Jim Hollingsworth had a fish trap on the creek. To have a mess of
fish he went to the fish trap and brought back the fish. Sometimes there was a
snake in the trap. I recollect my dad having steel traps set to catch mink.
Their hides were valuable to put on women's fur coats. Once in a while daddy
would catch a mink, skin it, and stretch the hide over a special shaped board
to dry. Then he would sell it when dried for about $4. That was cruelty to the
mink family to make a little money so the socialites of
latest style fur collar on their coat. The next place my dad took the family was
a little house on his daddy Jim McCaleb's place. We stayed there a year. Our
next door neighbor was Neil Sprinkle who was a county deputy sheriff. My dad
liked the sport? of rooster fighting, and that was against the law. My dad
ordered steel spurs for his game rooster. One of his social friends came with
his rooster. They fought the roosters in one of the mule stables. They fought
to the death, and dad's rooster won out. This was in sight of the deputy
sheriff's house, and rooster fighting was illegal. We shared a well with the
Sprinkles. The well went dry in the summer. Then we got drinking water from
Grandpa's drilled well. That well had yellow mineral water in it. My mother did
her washing in tubs and washpot heated water from a little stream that ran by
the house. She washed when the stream wasn't muddy. There was no running water
in the houses. Water was made to run by sending a boy to the well to draw a
bucketfull and run back with it. My brother, Thomas Raburn McCaleb, was born at
this place in 1925 and died two years later in
grandpa's place I went to the one teacher school, Clover Hill, taught by Mrs.
Hassie Reed. She traveled to the school, from about 4 miles down the road, in a
buggy pulled by her favorite horse. This was the same school house where my
daddy had attended classes. He hadn't gained very much " book larnin" there. I
must not have learned too much there either. I failed the third grade after
moving to
nice lady. In the winter of 1925-26 we moved to a place between Nettleton and
me in the third grade for two years. I never failed anything completely after
that. The farm my dad had in
years. Occasionally the weather would cooperate. My brother Raburn died with
membrane croup or diphtheria. Momma held him while he choked to death. All the
then family had the malarial. Daddy nearly died with the malarial fever. A big
hero of mine in 1927 was Charles A. Lindburg when he flew across the
the Spirit of St. Louis. I read the Memphis Press Scimiter each day to see if
Lindburg was going to make it. After that flight nearly all boys in the school
got a leather aviators cap. It was good to shed the rain and to keep the ears
warm in the winter. The move to
standpoint of education for his three oldest children. From an economic and
health standpoint it was a bad move. By 1932 daddy had had enough of
the Luxapallila river ten miles northwest of
until his children had all left him and married. He died October 31st,1958. At
this farm he cleared the trees from about 20 acres of land called newground. I
was at the other end of the crosscut saw in much of this clearing. In this work
I learned to sharpen saws. My dad was left handed and not adept at using tools
to make or fix things. At this last place my father lived he was finally able
to have electricity about 1945. After electricity the children installed an
indoor bathroom, a well pump for running water, and a refrigerator and
electric stove for the kitchen. The family had never had any of this before. He
was up in the world. His family had never had even an outside Johnny. They had
to use the mule stables, high timber, or high cotton. The Sears & Roebuck
catalog was used for toilet paper. Some used corn cobs that were obtained when
a turn of corn (about 1 bushel shelled corn) was prepared to take to the grist
mill to be ground into meal for cornbread. This sounds crude by present
standards, but we were among the well to do. My dad made about $400 a year from
the farm. He was too rich for me to get into the CCC camp just before WW2. We
would be in super poverty now. Many people now make more than $400 in one day.
My outlook on things is quaint and antiquated.
What was it like having a father like mine? I guess the way things turned out I
couldn't have been luckier even if I had picked my parents before being born.
My dad had some bad habits. The worst of his habits was smoking. That lead to
his early death when he was only 65 years old. In his last years he had
emphysema and had to do much struggling even to get a breath of air. He tried
to be sociable and do what others were doing. I have never been much of a one
to try to do what the Joneses are doing myself unless what they are doing
sounds logical. My dad was somewhat of a tease and criticizer. He had the habit
of foxhunting sometimes with his friends all night on Saturday night. I heard
him and one of his foxhunting friends discussing their children one day. The
friend told my daddy his children wouldn't do what he told them to do. My dad
told the man he didn't have any trouble with his children disobeying. He told
him he just didn't tell his children to do anything, therefore you get perfect
obedience. As you can see he liked to outtalk the other fellow. He would let a
traveling salesman talk his pitch an hour before telling him he wouldn't buy.
At the same time if a salesman came along late in the evening he would invite
him to spend the night so they could get in some talking. My dad tried to
never punish his children while he was angry. He had the good habit of going to
church most every Sunday. He was biased against other churches than his own.
Only his could have the whole truth. Who in the population isn't biased against
something? My dad never heard of psychology, but he was adept at using reverse
psychology. When he gave me $2.45 for a Greyhound bus ticket to
at
about 2 weeks. I never showed back up until I had earned enough for the first
year's tuition. I would have completely lost face if I had left and come back
home. When my sister Clancy was ready to go to
was no good for girls. The only thing they were good for was to have babies.
That completely determined her to go to college or bust. She made a more
outstanding record there than either Hubert or me. There was no welfare to go
to for help in dad's day. When a family was in trouble the neighbors would help
out if they knew about the need. My dad would share what little he had and could
spare with another family. When we were in
Williams and his two sisters were starving. My dad carried a bushel of cornmeal
and some homecanned goods to the family. The family was too proud to ask anyone
for help, and dad may have saved their life. When I was in my teens, I judged
my dad to be sort of ignorant and making mistakes in the way he managed things.
When I was older I realized he did the best he knew how with what he had. Later
on I knew not to make the same mistakes he had made. Never in my life did I
become disloyal to my parents or to my brothers and sisters. My daddy's ways
made me want to do better. His influence never steered me in the wrong
direction.
I have already mentioned dad's means of transportation: his two feet, saddle and
horseback, mules and wagon and finally a pickup truck. The truck was in his last
days.
Daddy's religion was
religious than momma but no better in the practice thereof. The church was the
main center of social activities back then. The church building was also the
school house. The preachers were self educated in the Bible. Everyone believed
their interpretation of the Bible was correct. The churches were small country
congregations. The members arrived on foot, on horseback, and on wagons. Mules
and horses were tied to trees in the woods around the church buildings.
Sometimes a dog came along and came in the building during services. The big
events were the Big Meetings held by a preacher in August after the crops were
"laid by." The preacher generally got a few conversions during the meeting.
Baptizing was in a nearby river or pool. The big events were the "all day
singings." All types of people attended the singings. Singers all tried to do
their best and make a joyful noise unto the Lord. Many people stayed outside
never going into the house. Sometimes there was a whiskey bootlegger around
selling liquor to the outsiders. It was not unusual for someone to get drunk.
At noon a dinner was spread on a sheet on the ground or in the back of a wagon
bed. Some people labeled these singings as "an all day singing, dinner on the
ground, and the Devil all around." As mentioned before, my dad got mixed up
with the alcohol devils at least once during his early life. People of other
beliefs and people with no belief or principle at all came to the singings. I
suppose something of a religious nature rubbed on to many of the attendees. The
churches had singing schools in the summer when crops were laid by. I went to
one or two singing schools. There I learned a little about music, but didn't
learn how to sing. My dad never learned anything about singing. I suppose it
was not in the McCaleb genes until it got to my daughter Bettie Dawn McCaleb
Boswell.That must have come from her mother's family. Part of them couldn't
sing either.
How did my dad manage his economic affairs? That was easy. He had nothing to
manage. His average income was about $400 per year. He grew most of the things
the family ate. He grew enough sorghum cane to make about 30 gallons of
molasses. He generally raised 3 fattening hogs so we could have meat and lard.
He had a cow or two to furnish milk. He had chickens running all over the place
to furnish eggs and fried chicken. He was a squirrel hunter and killed squirrels
to eat. He also killed rabbits until they said the rabbits were infected with
somekind of disease. At the first place I recollect living he had a supply of
fish from the illegal fishtrap. There was no lawn mower. The chickens mowed the
yard. We went barefoot in the summer. Sometimes I stepped on a black chicken
manure dropping and squished it between my toes. Grandpa Jim McCaleb loaned the
money to buy the place. Dad never was able to get all that paid. With his $400
income he bought flour, cloth for women's dresses and men's shirts, two pairs
of denim ovralls per boy per year, one pair of shoes per year for the winter,
sugar, salt, pepper, soda, spices, coffee etc. The corncrop supplied cornbread
for the year and fed the mules for another crop. He had several stands of bees
to make honey for the family. He spent part of the $400 for smoking tobacco.
That was a shame, but people have to have their nicotine and freedom to die
early. We were rich and never starved, luckily. One summer his money gave out.
He told us we would have to eat cornbread for breakfast until the crops were
sold. My mother and I agreed. Eating cornbread for breakfast was a loss of face
for him. He went to the Raymond Harris store in Winfield and they credited him
with a barrel of flour for the summer. My dad managed his affairs on what one
might call nothing in the way of income. If you don't have an income you have
to figure ways to get along without one. That he did. He never believed in
credit. I never believed in credit either. Maybe I learned at least that much
from him. He had a good credit rating among the local merchants, but never used
it unless real hard up.
My dad's attitude toward his brothers and sisters wasn't too good. His oldest
sister Mary McCaleb married Lonnie Box. Lonnie did some moonshining and liquor
peddling. We drove up to Lonnies in the farm wagon to visit when I was young. I
recollect Lonnie giving me a sip of whiskey on one occasion. I reckon dad loved
his sister Mary but thought she had married the wrong man. The Boxes were
better off financially than our family. When we visited them one time in 1925
Lonnie had a brand new T-model Ford touring car. He took us for a 3 or 4 mile
ride. That was my first automobile ride. Daddy would never engage in any shady
operation to make money. He remained a financially poor man all his life but
rich in other ways. My dad's brother Walker McCaleb when a young man got drunk
and into a fight with another drunk. The drunk cut
lost the use of one of his arms. Dad thought grandpa and grandma always gave
boarding high school at Eldridge, Al. Walker went a year there. Whether dads
idea of unfair treatment was justified or not I could never tell. My dad loved
his sister Verla McCaleb better than the rest. He was dissatisfied that she
married Louie Roby when she was only about 14 years old. Louie seemed like a
real nice sociable man. His sociability got him mixed up with drinking and
drunks. One of his friends killed him and threw him out beside the road
sometime in the 1950s. Then Verla raised three nice Roby boys. Her son Roland
and his wife are teachers at
lady and is still living at age 85 in 1995. She had a very hard life and lived
more years than any of my dad's family. All the rest have already gone on to
the Great Beyond.
My dad made a living by farming. The methods used were crude by comparison to
modern ones. Mulepower and manpower were the power sources. The land was broken
with turning plows pulled by a mule and operated by a boy or man and sometimes a
girl. Corn and cotton stalks were cut,in the spring, by a stalk cutter pulled by
2 mules. The land to be planted to cotton or corn was first middle busted. Then
guano from
with a turning plow. The guano was strowed by hand through a funnel held by the
left hand and the right hand put the guano through the hand distributor from a
bag on the shoulder. After the rows were made a section harrow was dragged over
the tops of 3 rows at a time with 2 mules pulling the harrow. After the rows
were prepared, a mule drawn planter was used to plant the cotton or corn. If
too much rain came after the seeds came up the crab grass would grow faster
than the cotton or corn. The women of the family or younger members did the
back breaking hoeing. Farmers finally learned to plant the corn in a furrow
instead of on top of the row. That way, if the corn grew faster than the grass,
a plow or hoe could be used to cover the grass instead of digging it up. My dad
never seemed to learn any of the shortcuts of farming. We generally did things
the hardest possible way. There were no pesticides being marketed at that time.
They did have paris green for the potato bugs in the garden. In the fall of the
year the corn was pulled by hand and thrown into heaps. Then the heaps were
picked up and thrown into the bed of the farm wagon and hauled to the corncrib
at the barn. The corn crop was used for corn meal for the family, and to feed
the mules to make another crop, and to feed the hogs to make them grow large to
have meat for the family. The cotton was picked by hand into long ducking
picksacks that drug behind the picker. Some people could pick about 240 pounds
of cotton in one day. I never did pick more than 150 pounds a day and not that
much too often. About 1400 pounds of cotton was picked and emptied into a tall
wagon bed and pulled to a ginn by the mules to get into a line and wait your
turn for the seed cotton to be ginned into a 500 pound bale of cotton. A bale
of cotton during the depression sold for as low as $25. The seeds were swapped
for cottonseed meal and hulls to be fed to the cows. Enough cotton seeds were
kept for next year's planting. The above is not a full coverage of everything
that went on, but gives some idea. The cow and horse manure in the stables was
hauled to the garden spot or a field where the land was poorer. We raised some
beautiful gardens when the only fertilizer used was cow or horse manure.
What did my daddy like to do best of all? Talking maay have been his best sport.
Fox hunting combined with talking would have been second or perhaps even first.
He loved hunting of any type. He was squirrel hunting when he fell over dead in
the woods. My dad loved hound dogs for fox hunting. He also loved squirrel
treeing dogs. We once had a small black fist dog that was good at treeing
squirrels. He loved all kinds of domestic animals and always treated his plow
mules good. He plowed the gentle mule and let me plow the wild one. I don't
know if he made his mule gentle or if I made mine wild. It was uncertin whether
my mule was wilder or that I made her wilder. Anyway we were both higher
tempered than dad and his mule. His mule was named Maud and my mule was named
Ida. Ida didn't go for someone trying to ride her. Hubert onetime talked my
sister Clancy into trying to ride Ida. Clancy soon had been thrown to the
ground. Momma saw all this happening. Needless to say, she was upset. The mules
we had before Maud and Ida were Nig and Nance. Nig was a small black mule, and
Nance was a small brown mule. I wonder how daddy arrived at naming Nig. I would
just love to have a picture of these helpers on the farm. No pictures of them
were ever taken. Daddy loved to go to gatherings, church or other type. That
gave him an outlet for talking. He wouldn't help momma do anything in the
kitchen at home. I found out from a foxhunting friend of his that dad was
appointed at a foxhunting convention to make a washpot of brunswick stew. The
friend said it was the best he had ever eaten. He must have kept that secret
from momma. I guess I have done my wife, Bettie Virginia Cline, that way.
Perhaps some of my dad coming out in me. I guess I should say that my dad liked
to tease people. I don't think that went over too well with momma.
My dad did'nt have much choice in the way of food. His favorite meat was beef.
My mother hated the smell of beef. She had a pet calf during her childhood that
granpa Samuel Winn (Bud) Hallmark had killed for beef. That completely turned
momma against beef. She didn't want any beef in the house. Daddy would
occasionally slip off to Loftis Cafe in Fayette and have a mess of beef with
the turnip greens, greasy biscuits, potatoes and the gravy that went with it.
The cost of a meal there at that time was 35cents. The foods at home were fried
ham, backon, sausage, sorgum cane syrup, big biscuits greased with hog lard,
milk with cornbread crumbled in for supper, fried chicken, eggs, gravy,
cabbage, collards, beans, pumpkins, beans fresh and dried, black eved peas
fresh and dried. butter for cooking and spreading on hot biscuits. Fatback was
used in cooking beans, greens etc. The diet was high in fat content. That
worked out ok for a 12 hour day manual labor in the fields. In dad's older days
after he had quit being able to do much work, the fat in the diet and the
nicotine from the cigarettes ruined his health. He had a heart attack in June
1958 while robbing his bees. Honey was another of his favorite foods. He loved
watching the bees. He died Oct 31, 1958 while in the woods doing a favorite
thing, squirrel hunting. He told me he heard the angels singing during his
heart attack. He loved all day singings. Maybe he is enjoying the angels
singing now in the great beyond.
How did daddy get along with momma? They took each other for better or for worse
until death did them part. I think momma may have thought he was worse than than
she thought when she married him. She didn't approve of several things he did.
One thing was the little drinking he did when first married. Another thing was
that he spent money for smoking tobacco when it could have been better spent
for something else. He teased her about her shortcomings. I recollect him
trying to teach her to swim when I was a little boy. He turned her loose in
boxes creek to swim on her own. She nearly drowned. She never went swimming
again with him or anyone else anytime after that. She burned her hand on the
stove. He told her he had sense enough to remove his hand before it burned. At
the time of marriage, she was a Baptist and he was a
He tried during his life to make a
changed her beliefs during her lifetime. She never changed his habits, unless it
was his amount of drinking, during his lifetime. Momma had a very hard life
milking cows, hoeing cotton and corn fields, cooking on a wood stove, doing the
washing by hand with outside wash pots, tubs and washboards. The modern woman
wouldn't put up with what she had to do, not even for a 2 week period. Momma
stuck with daddy till death did them part, and she missed daddy very much after
he was gone. She thought she had a great life together with daddy. The worst she
ever did daddy was to refuse to cook him any beef. She would cook fried chicken
when the preacher was coming for dinner. We would wait and be the last to eat
which was generally the wings. Momma lived 22 years after daddy died. Maybe not
eating beef was good for her. Or, could she have thrived on hardships? Don't
expect to change your husband or wife very much after you have married them.
They will remain the same at best, or maybe even get worse.
My dad got along with the neighbors just fine. Sometimes he talked about what
was wrong with them, but he never actually got into fights with them. When the
neighbor in Mississippi built a levee around dad's place there to keep the
water from getting on the neighbors place, dad decided to sell the land and go
back to Alabama. Dad may not have stood up for his rights as much as he should.
One of my dad's neighbors in Al. was Thomas Dodson. Thomas was a Primitive
Baptist and
would tell each other what was wrong with each's religion. Thomas was at dad's
funeral. He told me that daddy was the best neighbor he had ever had. The
community put daddy in as a member of the
always wondered why they did that since he had such little education. He seemed
to be liked by most all in the community. Maybe it was because he was a sociable
being.
My dad's last 3 or 4 years were not too pleasant living. He had emphysema from
his smoking. On waking up in the morning he had to cough for quite a while
before he could get a good breath of air. He had been unable to do hard work on
the farm for quite some time. He was renting the farmland to someone else.
Before that he had sold the mules. He and my youngest brother Leroy had gone
together and bought a John Deere tractor. Soon after getting the tractor, Leroy
had been drafted into the army. I think they made a crop or two with the
tractor. I think daddy got someone else to run the tractor while Leroy was in
the army. When Leroy got back he soon married Laeuna Duckworth. Daddy and
Leroy's farming was over. He rented the place from then on till death. During
this time the fat clogged his arteries, health fell off fast until his death.
He did have the pickup truck during his last days. Jean and Leroy were able to
drive him around at that time. Dad learned to drive the pickup himself in his
older days. He didn't get very proficient, I don't think. But he did have
transportation besides his 2 feet and mules.
My dad never believed in making a will for the disposal of his property. His
parents had made a will for their property. It was about 30 years later when
grandma died. The property willed to the other children compared to my dad's
part became much more valuable than what little money daddy had received. The
growth of the pine trees on their property had made it more valuable and dad
got almost nothing compared with what they received. He decided that a fair
will could not be made. I now believe that he must have been right on that. In
our case it worked out all right when my momma wanted to dispose of the farm.
All children were living and momma wanted to get rid of her possessions so she
would be eligible for public housing and medicare. She would have had no social
security if I had not made them pay social security the last two years before
they became 65. So the other children agreed to sell the place to me at what
the county tax assor said was a fair market value at that time. So I landed up
with the old home place. Momma wanted Leroy to have the place, but he had
nothing to pay for it. None of the others had money to pay for it at that time
except Clancy's husband Tom Worsham in
time I had retired the trees on it had become much more valuable. Then gas was
discovered , I received many times more money from the place than I had
invested in it. I hope my brothers and sisters didn't hate me for buying the
place. They didn't seem to have, and we all get along allright. I am inclined
to agree with my daddy about wills. There is no way that inheritances can be
devided equally. The lawyers fix the wills so there can be disagreements and
lawyers fees collected. Children then believe that some of the heirs got the
best deal. Perhaps I turned out to be too much like my daddy. It is too late to
regret it now at age 79. I hope my children appreciate what little they get of
my estate. I told my banker they would probably spend it all for the latest
autos within 3 years. He suggested it might not take 3 months. I hope they like
me and their brothers and sisters after the final settlement, that is if there
is anything to settle after the greedy medical establishment gets through with
me. this writeup prepared Oct 17,1995
