MEMORIES OF THE OLD HOME PLACE

 

 

There are many, many good memories that go along with this picture. Dad bought forty acres with the main road off Lookout Mountain running through it. I’m sure that big paling fence was put there to keep us out of the road and woods. I hope I never forget the good things about that home and the surroundings.

There are a lot of learning, loving and other good things I want to remember that happened there. At the side of the yard to the left was a wagon road which went almost straight to Uncle Wes and Aunt Ettie’s home. I remember visiting them quite often. A large rose garden and 3 Damson plum trees were in that side of the house. There was a row of grape vines, Concord and Lutie. Next there was a long row of asparagus. At the lower side of the garden was another row of Concord grapes and several bunches of Rhubarb. At the back of the garden was a Gold Plum tree, Peach and Apple trees.

Across the road there were pines and huge American chestnut trees. Occasionally we went barefooted across the road and had to hobble back with burrs in our feet. Then mother had a job picking the stickers out of our feet.

It seemed we were always the last every spring to go bare footed. When the day arrived one was always among the elite. With all this garden I have described almost as “The Garden of Eden” there was something that turned it to “Darkness” for me – smoothing that left an emotional scar or bad memory.

I was running all over that garden chasing beautiful butterflies. Mother had cooked a wonderful supper and the minister had come to eat. I suppose he had had no converts during this revival and probably asked mother if maybe Mildred and I would go to the alter that night. Mother came out and asked if “I loved Jesus.” Of course I said, “yes.” When the call came Mildred and I plus one wonderful woman went up to the alter. The person was not old but to some of the boys she was an “old woman.” We were teased unmercifully by some boys as we walked home from school. With great glee one boy trailed behind me with a stick and said, “Lola has lost her religion.” I absorbed the hurt quietly, but Mildred fought back. Oh, well! Time goes on! Life has its checks and balances. (Submitted by Lola Moore Kyte, Kingston, TN 37763.)




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