I wanted to share with you what I have so far and invite you to add your own memories so I can add them to her story. She usually has no problem right now recalling old memories when reminded. But I know there will come a day when she can't anymore. Enjoy.......
You had a lot of stories today. We chatted and I secretly took notes. Today we talked about William Garret Johnson. He was your uncle. You called him Uncle Tuck. Apparently he worked out of state and his coworkers nicknamed him Tuck because he was from Kentucky. It stuck his entire life. He was married to a Clack.
This morning you stared out the window at the road that runs in front our homes and remember a time when you and Lovie would walk to Uncle Tucks house. Tuck shoed horses among other odd jobs. You girls done a lot of walking. None of your family ever had cars although Uncle Dee bought himself one when he was older. There is a Clack Cemetery Rd just down from here, which is were he lived. Years ago most everyone had a small family cemetery on their property were they were buried. You were not certain but thought Uncle Tuck and his wife were buried there after their passing. I'm sure it must have been her family buried there as well. When it gets warm Peyton and I will have to investigate some of these things.
We also talked about your Grandpa and Grandma Johnson. They had a big house somewhere over around Aunt Norma's home. I'm picturing it must have been close to the little cabin you grew up in that I've been to several times.
You claim to have many great memories about their place. I've seen a photograph of their home and often wondered how anyone could have such a large nice home back then. You said he was a good business man.
They too, had a close family cemetery. Another that me and Peyton will have to visit. You said two children were buried there and that they passed from what was believed to be Typhoid Fever. They were there when you were a child so I imagine their graves are unrecognizably by now. Grandma and Grandpa Johnson are buried there you believe. Uncle Jim Wheeler was also buried there but his family moved his stone to Glasgow some years ago.
You lived in the little cabin on that land many years until your grandparents were old and sick. At that time you moved in with them and lived there until they both passed away. That big old house didn't remain in the family. Through the grapevine it was believed that the home was later burned for insurance money.
I was surprised to learn that two stores sat in Chicken Brissle here across from each other. It seemed to me that would cause many arguments to have two general stores in the small community. You said y'all traded only with the store that had been here the longest and some years later that other store also burned. Once again......gossip was it was also burned for insurance.
It must have been in the water today to tell stories. Daddy came in and joined in with stories of his own and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to jot those down a swell.
Some years ago I decided to clean out the garage and toss some of the kids old bicycles. One had dry rotted tires and one was simply too small and rusted. Daddy was very upset that I intended to toss two perfect bikes because someone could enjoy those. Today I understood that better.
Daddy (which is your son) never had a bicycle. He also done a lot of walking. A few of his friends had a bike but he didn't. Daddy saved his money once and purchased a bicycle for ten cents. It was used and worn out and had a bad chain that always got hung up in his britches leg. I imagine it was a wasted ten cents. Another time he traded a BB gun with a slight defect for a bike. It was a decent trade but he was already older by this point and wasn't really in to bikes anymore. He was more a motor bike kind of boy by this point and saved thirty five dollar for one of his own. It lasted one day, because every boy around here took a turn on it and it was pretty much destroyed by the second day. I can just picture you shaking your head about this situation sixty years ago. I imagine you would have been about the age I am now when he was making these trades. Boys will be boys wont they, Granny?