A potbelly coal burning stove sat at the foot of twin iron post beds.
Grandpa's bed was on the left as you entered the room,Grandma's on the right.
A light hung from the ceiling between the beds.
The year is 1955,Roanoke,Alabama,I'm 3 years old but that memory is fresh in my mind just like it was yesterday.
This is where my memory starts.
I went back to the old home place a few years ago.It didn't look the same.That mountain of a red clay bank didn't seem as big as way back then.Gone was the weathered slanting barn we kids were warn to stay out of but we didn't.
That unpainted long splintered back porch where Grandma churned butter and kin folks sat and talked I wish for again.
Parents,Grandparents,Aunts,Uncles and Cousins,Uncle Leon's old Nash parked under the Willow tree,Daddy behind Ole Gray John plowing till time to go to work in the mills.
Peaches and cream and Grandpa's laughter at the breakfast table.His hunting dogs and that horn made from a bull's horn.Tall with white hair always wearing a long sleeve white shirt and dungarees and brogan shoes never met a stranger I've been told this was Grandpa.
Gathering eggs from the chicken coup each morning all by myself,I was a big boy of course I was 3.Helping slop hogs in the afternoon that I wasn't allowed to do alone.
Daddy and Uncle Lavert toting Grandpa in a chair to the top of a coal stack so he could hear his hound dogs hunt one more time.
Memories embedded into my soul.
Grandpa's bed was on the left as you entered the room,Grandma's on the right.
A light hung from the ceiling between the beds.
The year is 1955,Roanoke,Alabama,I'm 3 years old but that memory is fresh in my mind just like it was yesterday.
This is where my memory starts.
I went back to the old home place a few years ago.It didn't look the same.That mountain of a red clay bank didn't seem as big as way back then.Gone was the weathered slanting barn we kids were warn to stay out of but we didn't.
That unpainted long splintered back porch where Grandma churned butter and kin folks sat and talked I wish for again.
Parents,Grandparents,Aunts,Uncles and Cousins,Uncle Leon's old Nash parked under the Willow tree,Daddy behind Ole Gray John plowing till time to go to work in the mills.
Peaches and cream and Grandpa's laughter at the breakfast table.His hunting dogs and that horn made from a bull's horn.Tall with white hair always wearing a long sleeve white shirt and dungarees and brogan shoes never met a stranger I've been told this was Grandpa.
Gathering eggs from the chicken coup each morning all by myself,I was a big boy of course I was 3.Helping slop hogs in the afternoon that I wasn't allowed to do alone.
Daddy and Uncle Lavert toting Grandpa in a chair to the top of a coal stack so he could hear his hound dogs hunt one more time.
Memories embedded into my soul.
