Granddaddy Horace died before any of the grandchildren were born.  We never knew him, but, from all I’ve been told, he was a mighty fine man, a good husband and he loved children.  I’ve sometimes wondered what we would have called him. Would we have called him Grand Daddy, PaPa, or Pa?  Or, maybe we would have each called him something different.

I always had great admiration for Grandmother.  With her being widowed at such an early age, she had to learn to do things that most women didn’t have to do.  If she wanted something done, she did it.  I guess you can say, she was a liberated  woman before being liberated was stylish.  She taught me how to crochet during one of the winter snowstorms that we use to have.  I have spent many enjoyable hours using this handcraft.  I also share her interest in quilting.  I’ve quilted a few items but right now mostly all I do is piece quilt tops. 

Horace
October 25, 1906 - May 9, 1950

Margie
June 24, 1906 - March 30, 1997

Ether A.
April 1, 1895-September 26, 1976

Ethel
March 5, 1900 - June 19, 1970

Grand Daddy and Mama Ethel  farmed and grew everything that they needed.  Grand Daddy grew corn and ground it into cornmeal. He grew wheat and had it ground into flour.  He raised hogs and killed as many at they needed each fall.  Mama Ethel would fix the best ground sausage.  They grew a huge garden, so, they always had fresh vegetables in the summer and canned some for the winter.  They raised chickens and had fresh eggs. 

Grand Daddy grew tobacco and twisted his own tobacco to chew.  I can still remember that sweet smell of his tobacco twist.  Of course, with chewing tobacco, Grand Daddy always had to have a spit cup.  I remember one time we went to Aunt Georgia and Uncle Ottie’s for Sunday dinner.  They didn’t have children so they had white carpet throughout their house. Well, somehow poor old Grand Daddy knocked over his spit cup.  Man, what a mess!