PROLOGUE

After my brother James published his recollections and reflections on his life, I was gently goaded by my kin to follow suit. After recounting my personal memories, I decided to continue with some accounts of each member of my family, excepting James. Some of my memories would soon be forgotten unless recorded.

My life began in the horse and buggy days and has continued to the space age and the computerized complexities of the turn of the century. I have no memories of World War I, but I was living at that time. I vividly recall the Great Depression, World War II, the Korean Conflict and lately the terrorist attacks with the United States allying many countries to join in the effort to eliminate this terrible scourge.

In my early years we had an Edison record player. The disc was a cylinder some five or six inches long and perhaps two inches in diameter. Movies were yet to be invented. If one could list all the modern conveniences of today which were not available to us then – money or not – the present generation would be astonished that we were able to survive.

I was in college before the REA ran electric lines to my community. Our home at that time was only two miles from the courthouse in Rutherfordton – not "in the sticks".

At the age of 85, I am refusing to become personally efficient at a computer. I am fast becoming an "old fogey". Why not leave the responsibilities to a younger generation?

For the past few months I have been involved with searching for up-to-date data on all the descendants of my great grandfather Barney Hill. My proposed book Barney’s Blood should go to press early next year. I decided to lift the section from that manuscript pertaining to my immediate family and include the data in this printing.

Perhaps my ramblings will help the past to be "gone but not forgotten".

Bea

I was born September 23, 1916 at 5:30 a.m. My daddy wanted me named Beatrice. In my family it was the custom to give babies names of a connected family member, so I was named Dora Beatrice Hill. The "Dora" was for Dad's sister. I have been told that I cried a lot and Daddy would walk the floor with me. This perhaps explains that I bonded with him and always was a "Daddy's Girl."

I lived in the same house until I was six years old. I remember the house very clearly. I have often said that Abraham Lincoln had nothing on me for I was born in a log house too. There were three rooms in the original house. Dad had added a dining room/kitchen combination. There was a small porch on the front, a porch off the kitchen that had a plank shelf for a water bucket and wash pans. This porch was three or four feet from the ground. Once I was holding a baby on my lap, perhaps Reid, and I bumped my chair off the porch. The baby was on top and no one was hurt. Another porch was on the East side of the house that extended in an ell to the North side of a room.

Mama did not think this porch a safe place for children. Perhaps it was too high off the ground. There was a cellar under the east room that had been dug out with some parts lower than others were. I remember the dank smell of this area and the smooth river rocks used to put on top of lids to make them more secure. There was one chimney with a fireplace in two adjoining rooms. I remember that we used the fireplace in only one of these rooms.

A staircase led to an attic space that was floored, with a window on the West side. We would sometimes play up there but Mama was fearful that we would forget and fall through the opening of the stairwell that did not have any banisters. This attic and the window were responsible for Mama's being able to put out a fire on the roof. She carried a washtub of water up the stairs and out the window, onto the roof of the kitchen. She set her tub in the vee of the roof and threw water on the fire. The excess water drained back into her tub. It was on these attic stairs that I inadvertently stepped on Martin's hand causing an injury that is evident to this day.

There was a reason Mama and Daddy chose to live in this out of the way place. Mama's mother had died from complications from the birth of my Uncle Hunley, a premature baby. Not too long after this, Mama's father was killed in an accident at his sawmill. A wooden pulley came apart and a piece of the pulley hit him in the head. Aunt Julie White, Mama's mother's sister, took the little girl Minnie Iola Higgings and raised her. Aunt Julie had been a teacher and knew how to be kind and loving. Mama told about picking all the blooms from a hydrangea bush because they were so pretty. Aunt Julie squatted down beside her and said quietly, "Minnie, what am I to do with you?" Mama sensed this had displeased her aunt, so no more flower plucking.

Mama never talked much about her childhood. She told of one instance when she was taking drinking water to Uncle John in a field some distance from the home. A black snake started following her. Mama ran all the way but when "they" got there, Uncle John refused to kill the snake.

Mama had friends from two families living nearby - the Lewises and the Edwards'. Mama kept in touch with these girls until her death.

I do not remember the incident but Iva Edwards married a Lovelace, who later killed Iva's father. He was sent to prison for this crime. Iva Lovelace was a teacher at Rutherfordton Elementary School for many years, making a good home for her two boys.

Mama was a pretty lady with beautiful black hair. She was sitting near a window in a church when Dad first spied her from the churchyard. He pointed her out to his friend and said that was the girl he was going to marry. They kissed only once before they married. At a spring, Mama stooped to get a gourd full of water and when she raised up, Dad got his kiss.

After my parents married they lived with Dad's parents for a while. Dad got a job in Keeter's Hardware store. Louise was born eleven months after they married. They lived in the town of Rutherfordton for a short while. Uncle John White lost his eyesight and Aunt Julie needed help. So Mama and Daddy moved to the farm to help. Six of us kids were born on this farm. Dad never complained about how hard he had to work but it was a stressful time for him. Uncle John had two unmarried sisters living nearby and Dad assumed responsibility for them.

Aunt Julie taught us many things. I remember her telling me about my right and left hand. I was standing in the kitchen churning with a dasher. She said for me to change hands to keep from getting tired. "Churn with my right hand for a while and then use my left one." I never knew until then that I had a "right" hand and a "left" hand. For years, if I wanted to figure out which hand was which, in my mind's eye, I would place myself back in that kitchen, standing at the churn facing North. If only she had told me that my right hand was the one I used to hold my eating utensil!

Aunt Julie had learned to spell syllable by syllable. We loved to hear her spell "incomprehensibility." She began by pronouncing the entire word. Then she took it syllable by syllable: "i-n, in, c-o-m com, incom, p-r-e pre, incompre, h-e-n hen, incomprehen" etc.

Aunt Julie received a small pension because her husband had served in the War Between the States. This gave her some degree of independence. At one time, she went on a train to Charlotte to have the cataracts taken off her eyes. To me, that seemed like a brave thing to do.

Aunt Julie wanted me to have a gold locket inscribed with "Bee" because, she said, I was always as busy as a bee. Mama purchased the locket for her but the jewelry salesman talked Mama into using my three initials "DBH". I still treasure my locket and wear it often. But I think Mama should have concurred with Aunt Julie's wishes and my locket should have "Bee" on it. This locket means a lot to me. The cost of the locket was approximately a month's stipend from her pension.

My sister Ellen was Aunt Julie's favorite. They were very close. I often wondered what Aunt Julie was planning for Ellen. It really was unfair for me to get a locket and Ellen to get nothing.

Aunt Julie taught me how to make cornbread. Mama was in the hospital and I was helping cook. When Mama was cooking we helped with the preparation and all sorts of jobs but the "cooking" was Mama's job. I guess she figured she could do it in less time than it took to try to teach us.

I remember one incident concerning the aunts. Aunt Lizzie fell and broke her hip. She stayed in the Rutherford Hospital for several days. When she was ready to be dismissed, the doctor wanted to collect the money before she left. Dad said he would eventually pay but he did not have the money at that time. He told the doctor he had been looking after this woman who was no kin to him for some time and it would suit him just fine if they wanted to take care of her for a while. Aunt Lizzie was sent home.

Aunt Crissie's (Lucretia) and Aunt Lizzie's (Elizabeth) house was a two room log structure with an added ell for a kitchen and dining area. It was close enough to our house that we small children could go by ourselves to visit. I remember always being given a biscuit and honey. They had a few hives of bees in their back yard. They carried their water from a spring. Years later when we were at the White farm tending crops after we had moved, we used this spring for our drinking water. At Aunt Lizzie's I loved to play with the pulls on a cabinet with perhaps six small drawers. The front of the drawers had pretty colored glass with advertisement about J.P. Coats Thread.

As a child, I thought it unique that they let a cat sleep on their bed to keep their feet warm. Cats were never pets at our home. They were supposed to be barn cats to keep down the over population of rats and mice.

Aunt Julie was a small woman, maybe a hundred pounds, very particular about her clothing. She suffered from asthma and was the first of the "old folks" to die, at the age of seventy-four in 1926. My sister Ellen slept with Aunt Julie. Aunt Julie died one night during her sleep. Ellen arose the next morning, got out of bed quietly so as to not wake her. Before leaving for work, Dad went to inquire how she was feeling and discovered she was dead.

Aunt Lizzie died soon after at the age of eighty-four. Aunt Crissie died at the age of ninety-four. All three died within a year of each other. After Aunt Lizzie died I slept with Aunt Crissie. It was my responsibility to help her dress for bed, then dress for the day in the mornings. Aunt Crissie was a quiet person, never said a harmful word about anybody or anything. Aunt Lizzie could be "snappy."

Each of these aunts had selected the clothes they wished to be buried in. Mama had them dressed in these selected clothes, but on top of all Mama asked the mortician to put on a "shroud" - a very fancy looking dress. She did not want anyone to think we were too poor to have them dressed in the fashion of the times. I thought they should have had it like they wanted.

After the death of the three, we could all leave home together. As long as they were with us, someone had to stay at home with them. I remember volunteering to stay while everyone else went to the county fair. My family thought this was a very special favor I was offering, but the truth was I did not really enjoy the yearly trip to the fair - too many people, too much noise, too much confusion. I remember when I went to the fair later, Dad tried to see that I had a good time. He even rode the Ferris wheel with me. Sorry Dad. I just could not get into the excitement!

One wash place was down by a stream. Mama would sometimes use their wash place, instead of drawing water from our well. There she could scoop up buckets full of water from the stream. More often she used a wash bench near our smokehouse with water drawn from our well. Mama always believed in cleanliness. Her "white" clothes were really white. She believed in a clean house. I recall that after we had moved to Daddy's home place, we had a complete house cleaning twice a year - once before Easter and once before Christmas. We willingly worked with vigor to "get ready" for these holidays: all floors scrubbed, all walls wiped down, pictures on the wall taken down and every inch renewed. Both parents were hard workers and taught us that there was satisfaction in a job well done. An adage often repeated was: "If a task is once begun, never leave it 'til it's done. Be the labor great or small, do it well or not at all."

The farm supplied most of our food, wheat for flour and corn for cornmeal. Vegetables during the growing season, sweet potatoes and Irish potatoes, which could be kept through the winter. Before the pressure cooker was marketed, we could not can most vegetables. Mama canned tomatoes, berries, and fruits. She dried apples for winter use and made kraut from cabbage. After we had a pressure cooker we could can many vegetables, especially green beans. We also canned beef until we finally got electricity and could have a freezer.

During the cold winter we would keep a quarter of beef on a screened in back porch and cut from this enough for a meal. Hog meat was salted down, cured, and sometimes smoked. Sausage meat could be squeezed tightly into cloth bags, coated with lard and hung in a cool place. These bags were the diameter of a sausage patty. Mama would also fry the sausage, put them in a quart jar, turn the jar upside down, permitting the grease to settle around the top which kept the patties air tight. Any of my family will testify that even though money was "tight" we never went hungry.

Now, back to my log home. Uncle John died in 1919, when I was two and a half years old. I cannot remember him at all. I do have a vivid recollection of being greatly disappointed at the time of his funeral. A neighbor had loaned Daddy a surrey with a fringe on top to use. I was standing near this conveyance all dressed in my Sunday best, thinking how great it would be to ride in such a beautiful vehicle. My Dad picked me up and said, "No, Honey, you will ride in this one" - an ordinary buggy. I did not cry nor protest but my joy was killed.

My sister Louise often told how once when Aunt Julie was cooking dinner, she needed to replenish the salt supply from the smokehouse. When she entered the smokehouse Louise shut the door and dropped an outside latch. No amount of pleading would persuade Louise to lift the latch. Blind Uncle John had to come and let her out. By this time her chicken gravy base was very overdone.

I can't recall that we got spankings as small children. Later Mama would switch us. Daddy was gone during the day and Mama would often put off discipline saying, "Just wait until your dad gets home." We knew she never told him about these problems.

Dad did switch me once. An argument developed between Ellen and me. She was washing the dishes. My job was to clear the table, dry the dishes and put them away. I was ready to dry the dishes. I asked Ellen to wipe off the cabinet so I could set the dried dishes on it. She said she would when she finished all the dishes and pots and pans. I called "Mama!" who told Dad to go see what was happening. He came, listened to my complaint and told Ellen to wipe off the cabinet. As he turned to leave I said, "I knew I wouldn't have to wipe off the cabinet." Dad turned and told me to wipe off the cabinet. Thirty minutes later I wiped off the cabinet. Until this day, I contend the only reason I conceded my stance was I got sorry for my Dad. He was determined to whip and talk until I agreed to his command. I still think it was unfair.

I have a tender heart and have never enjoyed anyone or anything suffering. I was never glad any sibling got punished.

Back to the log house, recalling my days before I was six years old. In the summer we played outdoors. We were never supervised or told what to play - but play we did. Make-believe play houses and mud pies came later. We often played church. One would pretend to play the organ while the rest of us sang. An older one would be the preacher. We loved doing funerals. One hillside below the crib was our "cemetery." Our graves would be mounded up and wild flowers, especially daisies, would decorate them. It was an occasion for a real funeral when a small "dibbie" (chick) would die. It got put in a matchbox and buried in grand style. One area near our house was full of daisies. We did many things with them. We would pull off petal by petal saying, "He loves me, he loves me not." The final petal determined if "he" loved me. We would squeeze the center part into our hand, toss it up and catch it on the back of our hand, and toss it again and catch it in our hand. The number of buds we caught was the number of children we would have when we married.

We play acted all the usual stories told to small children. In acting out the Three Little Pigs - when the third pig was outsmarting the wolf by jumping in a churn and rolling down a hill - we did not have a churn but we would lie down and roll down an embankment. In my child's mind this was a "big" bank. I later realized it might have been four feet high.

Ellen was a year and a half older than I. She taught me many things. I remember once I was singing "When the 'Rolis' call up yonder." She explained about a roll and that I should say "when the roll is called." She tried to teach me what a quarter was. I could not grasp how one quarter was 25 cents and another quarter was 15 minutes.

I cannot remember learning to read. I remember being permitted to go to school with the older ones after lunch. The one room schoolhouse was near our house. Once the teacher had me go to the front of the room and say the ABCs from the back of a speller. Then she shamed some of the students for not being as smart as I.

I was anxious to go to school. The school near us had closed and we would go to Green Hill. The state did not furnish the books. Dad bought the necessary books in town. When he gave me my "Baby Ray" reader, I read about Baby Ray having one of this, two of that, three of something, four of whatever. But when I got to five yellow ducks, I had to ask someone what the word yellow was.

We walked up to the Taylors to catch the school bus. I remember every morning we would say to the teacher, "Good morning, Miss _______." Then we would sing, "We're all in our places with sunshiny faces. Oh, this is the way to start a new day." We carried our lunch. Louise would always carry mine with hers. On rainy days I would go to her classroom to eat my lunch. I was shy and did not like being with the older people. Bryce Hodge would tease me. I now realize he was trying to be friendly but then I did not like it.

Green Hill School had been established in order to consolidate the smaller schools into larger more "efficient" schools. In the year 2000, another consolidation took place and Green Hill students went to the new regional school, Pinnacle. The old school building now belongs to the Green Hill Community.

Upon moving into Dad's homeplace in the Piedmont Community, we attended school in a two-room schoolhouse close to Furman Hodge's residence. My first day, I told the teacher I had been in the first grade for a short time. We had had to stop going to school at Green Hill because my brother James had scarlet fever and we were quarantined - not allowed to be with people outside of our family. The teacher had me read a story from a second grade book. She then said I could be in Grade Two. I loved to read and still do.

Piedmont School would sponsor community gatherings. Once they had a box supper to raise money to buy reading books for the school. At a box supper, the young ladies packed a picnic type lunch that was raffled off to the highest bidder. That person then shared the contents with the one who had made the box.

The books bought later were a treasure chest to me. Such beautiful pictures and interesting stories. I am sure I eventually read every one of them.

For Christmas I would usually be given a book as one of my presents. I would take my book to a chair by the window and be completely absorbed in it while everyone else was "hooplahing" over all the new toys.

Recess at the Piedmont School meant we were free to play as we pleased. The teachers were given a break away from us and we away from them. Today all activities at schools must be supervised which takes away the initiative of the students to play as they wish.

The boys nearly always played ball. Sometimes a group of us would play anti-over. Two teams were formed. One went to one side of the building, the other to the opposite side. The side with the ball would call, "anti-over." The opposite side would call, "Let her come." Someone would toss the ball over the roof. When the group had the ball, they could elect to go either way - to the right or to the left. The object was for side A to catch persons on Side B before they could get around the building. If you were caught you had to belong to the enemy until you were recaptured by your original side. My siblings and I would have liked to play at home over the kitchen ell but Dad did not want any ball hitting his roof.

My friend, Modene Flynn and I made us a playhouse out in the woods near the playground. We played together harmoniously until Clifford Walker brought us a burned out light bulb for our house. No one in our community had electricity and we were thrilled to pretend that our playhouse had at least one electric light. Modene and I had a "falling-out" over who owned the bulb. We later resumed our friendship which lasted until Modene's death.

The school would have a "recitation" day. We lower grade students would go into the larger room. Various students would perform a "piece," a poem, a reading, or a short skit. Sometimes the parents would be invited. Once I had a one-liner in some poem. On cue, I was to shake my "golden" curls and say, "No, not one." Mama had combed my hair into pre-Shirley Temple curls.

Sometime during the Christmas season, there would be a community party with a large tree holding a small gift for each person. Fancy handkerchiefs were a favorite gift during my early years. Whistles, tops, knives, and balls were appreciated by the boys.

Drinking water came from a nearby spring. Older boys would gladly go for a bucket of water. We had one dipper and none of us thought this was unusual for we also used one dipper at home. Then the county decreed that each person had to have his or her personal drinking glass. We filled our glass with the same dipper.

In the lower grade room, there were some double-seat desks for the older students. Small children sat on benches. In winter a stove sat in the middle of the room. The teacher was responsible for seeing that the stove was warm before class time. Wood was used as fuel.

The teacher's desk was on a raised platform. Classes were called up one at a time. We would take the appropriate book and go sit on the bench close to the teacher. We had "spell-downs". We lined up in a line next to a wall. The teacher started at the head of the line. If that person spelled the word correctly, he could keep his place, if not he had to concede to the person who did spell the word correctly. The same line placement strategy lasted all week. One was fearful of being at the end of the line. If you spelled a word correctly you could pass all who had misspelled the word.

The "restroom" was an outdoor pit-privy. This type could become very obnoxious to your sense of smell. At home, lime was used to help keep down the odor. We also used lime to keep down the smell of a damp fireplace in the summer. All ashes were removed and lime was sprinkled on all areas of the fireplace.

We had to walk about a mile to school, but I do not remember any of us complaining about this. All the students walked, some farther than we. Some of my family decided to walk to the town school. We cut across lands taking paths instead of roads. I entered the fourth grade in the town school. The next year our Piedmont school was closed and all pupils were bussed to town school.

I had a lovely teacher, a Miss Niblock, in grade four. At this school, we had an auditorium as we had had in Green Hill. Each grade had a designated section and we marched in single file going into the auditorium. Single file line-up was the rule for going from any point to another point.

In the fifth grade, I started in Miss Moore's class but was transferred to Mr. Freeman's room. I have always regretted not being allowed to continue in Miss Moore's class. She was a forceful but fair teacher.

In the sixth grade, I had Miss Shirley, (her surname). She wore a pretty, dark blue georgette dress all the time. I did well in my studies. In the spring we took a standardized test and the powers that be suggested I skip the seventh grade. This caused me never to be taught some of the curriculum material designated for the seventh grade.

I really had to study hard in the eighth grade. Ellen and I were now in the same grade. I made a couple of B's on my first report card. At the end of high school, these B's put me third from the top of my graduating class. I was actually glad, for I liked the two who were above me and was glad for them to have the honor. Then, too, I did not have to give a speech at the commencement exercise.

At the end of the ninth grade, Ellen went to work at Stonecutter and I went to help take care of my Grandmother Hill. Aunt Dora, an old maid, had assumed the responsibility for her "Maw." Dad told her that if and when she needed help, he would send one of us to help. Aunt Dora had moved from the home place to Spindale. Her brothers helped to build her a house with room enough to accommodate boarders. At first Grandma did lots of the work. Aunt Dora worked first shift at a mill. When I went, Grandma was a bed patient. She had pellagra and required a lot of care. I also cooked lunch for the gang, helped with all the chores, including washing clothes. Water was drawn from a well on the back porch.

I did not start school the next year. My brother Yates had complications from having scarlet fever. I was a great help at home during his illness. Someone stayed by his bed around the clock for weeks. The doctors gave us no hope but Yates is living a normal life except for his loss of hearing due to this illness.

I returned to school the next year. My interrupted years in high school caused me to graduate in 1935 with classmates I had known only two years. Some of my classmates had been together for eleven years. We did not have a class reunion until our fiftieth in 1985. This proved very enjoyable and we began having them often - every two or three years, then finally every year. By the year 2000, interest had declined and we stopped. Thirty-five of the fifty-two are alive in 2001 but some are in rest homes.

After graduating from high school I decided to be a nurse. I was accepted at Crowell Hospital in Lincolnton but at the end of my trial period, the supervisor said I was too sympathetic to patients to be a good nurse.

I stayed at home and, for a while, worked in a sock-knitting company. In 1937 my sister Ellen who was working at Stonecutter said she would advance the money for me to attend Asheville Teacher's College. This college was supported by the Northern Presbyterians. The tuition was very reasonable. All students had to work ten hours a week - in the kitchen, laundry, housekeeping, snack shop, offices, or as aides to the teachers.

My first two years, I stayed at my Uncle Reid's and Aunt Hurley's. They operated a tourist home. Before there were motels, many homes took in over-night guests. I helped Aunt Hurley with housekeeping when I was not at school. At night while I was studying, I could greet prospective guests and show them the available rooms. This interaction with many people helped me to be at ease with strangers. I also developed an uncanny ability to "size-up" a person in a very short time period.

I stayed with Aunt Hurley during the summer, doing whatever was needed. Aunt Hurley kept her rooms looking fresh and clean. Curtains were washed often. We cleaned the wallpaper with a pasty concoction, somewhat like play-dough. Rolling it over the paper really took up most of the accumulated grime. The air quality in Asheville was not good - too much soot from all the coal furnaces.

I decided to stay on campus for my last two years. It was a different world. I am really glad I had that experience. I was lucky in my work assignments. My history teacher, a Miss Tibbetts, asked for me to be her aide. I never had to clean toilets.

My first year on campus, I roomed with three to a room. My last year, there were four in my room, which really should have been for two. I learned to go to the library to study.

I do not like to brag, but I will acknowledge that I scored the highest grade in my graduating class. I think this helped me to get my first job. A principal from Maiden, North Carolina came to my home selling encyclopedias. I told him I had not been able to locate a teaching position. He had knowledge of my background from the college. I said, "You give me a job and I will buy your encyclopedias." So I taught in his school for two years.

My mother was sick and I needed to be closer to home. I got a position in Sunshine School in Rutherford County. I taught there only one year. Then I transferred to Central High to teach an eighth grade class. After two years the eighth grade was put back in the elementary schools. I went to Spindale School. After two years teaching the eighth grade, a man teacher was hired. He took the eighth and I taught the sixth for two years.

I had been going to school in the summers to upgrade my certificate. The superintendent of the public schools in North Carolina was one of my teachers for my last summer term. He knew that Mr. Dudley, superintendent of the city system in Red Springs, was looking for a principal for his elementary white school. Mr. Dudley came to Chapel Hill to interview me. I worked for him for four years. We got along fabulously. I admired him and he realized I was improving the school. But again I was too far away from home. I decided to resign. I taught in Mecklenburg County for several years at Thomasboro Elementary School. I enjoyed living in Charlotte. I came home nearly every weekend, getting home on Friday after school and getting back to Charlotte late Sunday night.

In 1962 I married Arthur Gross and needed to have a job in Rutherford County.

I taught language arts and science in grade eight at Cool Springs. When county schools were integrated I was assigned to sixth grade at Dunbar. Mr. Roper was an excellent principal. I took early retirement at age 57. My husband had retired and I jokingly said I needed to be home to tell him what to do. Now that I have listed where I taught, you can imagine how I cannot readily answer the casual question, "Where did you teach?"

Perhaps now is as good a time as any to mention my two marriages. I married Arthur Gross on November 22, 1962. Arthur had been working at the Hill Tractor place for years. I bought a Ford Tempest car. It had half of a V-8 engine. This sparked curiosity among car buffs. Men were interested in driving it. Several did. Arthur asked when was he going to get to drive it. I said, "Most any time." He said there might be a steak dinner in it. I suggested a time but he declares he did not understand. When he asked me again I said, "You missed your chance." He was apologetic and said he would not "hound" me about it but if I ever would give him another chance he'd take it. Many moons later I relented and set another date. Well, you know how things go! We had our first date on a Saturday - the first day of spring. We were married on Thanksgiving Day of that year.

We decided to build a house on his old home place. There were large oaks and we planned our house to sit among these oaks. I had fun drawing plans for our house. We hired a local man, Perry Blake, to be our builder. He did a marvelous job. I, of course, was proud of our home. But Arthur was much prouder. He reveled in showing it to people.

Arthur really loved me but he was always so very, very jealous. He could not believe I had no thoughts for another man.

During our engagement time I was still teaching in Charlotte. Arthur believed in thought transfer. He believed he could sense my thoughts seventy miles away. He made a believer out of me. One night I was at dinner with someone explaining that I was getting serious with Arthur and this would be our last time to have dinner together. That weekend, Arthur asked, "Where were you on Tuesday night? I couldn't make contact with you." After he had proposed several times, I decided one day after I got home from school that I would tell him I had decided to marry him. When he picked me up Saturday night, we had not gone far when he said, "You have something to tell me but first I want you to hold this notepad." I took the notepad. Then told him my decision. He said to be specific about when I made the decision. I recalled the day and hour. He said, "Now you can look in the notepad." He had noted the day and hour that I had made my decision. I still have the notepad.

Arthur had an unhappy childhood and it was difficult for him to just be happy about the present state of events. He could never meld into my family as one of us. He was skeptical about everyone, everything they said or did.

Arthur had a serious injury from a tree kicking back and hitting his leg. He really had a bad injury. They put a pin in his thigh about fifteen inches long. When he finally healed enough to be allowed to sit up, he developed a blood clot on a lung and had to take many shots for that. We stayed in the hospital six weeks. At a later time, he had heart failure and almost died. He had a stroke because of this and had to fight back for the use of his speech. He suffered a lot of pain from his right arm being numb. After this stroke he was very nervous and irritable. He became abusive to me. I warned him I was not going to be abused. After another incident, I walked away and let his daughter and son-in-law take care of him. He died a few months later, on October 16, 1979, from emphysema.

Not long after this my sister Ellen had an operation to remove a large cancerous growth. This necessitated her having an ileostomy. I suggested she live with me until spring then I would live with her at her home on North Washington Street. She was contented at my house. After a short recovery period I suggested she try latch hooking. I let her finish a design I had begun. She loved it. She ordered kits and completed many wall hangings. My home was on Long Branch Road. Ellen loved to say that she was the "hooker" of Long Branch.

In March we moved into her house. I stayed with her until her death on August 31, 1983. Ellen was reconciled to her condition but stayed busy and upbeat. At Christmas time the entire house had to be decorated, with a large display in the yard. She made plans for landscaping that were carried out. Ellen loved to sew. By hand she made cloth covered coat hangers and gave them away by the dozen. She and I worked together to make lap robes for rest homes. She always wanted to be the one at the machine. She crocheted afghans. Sometimes she cooked. Once I had a stomach virus and could not tolerate food. Ellen would cook an Irish potato and give me the liquid. This lasted almost a week. The first solid food I ate was cream of wheat.

It was determined that Ellen had three different types of cancer. She took treatments at the Baptist Hospital in Winston-Salem about every six weeks. She and I would go down on the day of the treatment. She was always very sick after the treatment and needed to stay overnight. I stayed with her - sleeping on the floor. She never complained or lamented over her lot. Her comments were "Someone in our family of ten siblings would have to go first, so why not me?" She concluded that in ten years several of us would be gone. The next death was my sister Louise who died in September 1999 - 16 years later!

At this writing in the year 2001, my brother James is 88 years old. I am 85, Martin 83, Reid 81, Charles 74, Yates 72, and Don 70. We must have "honored" our father and mother for our days on this earth to be this long.

After Ellen's death, I moved into a basement apartment in Ruth and Reid's house. This was a good arrangement. When James' wife Thelma was terminally ill, I moved in with James to help with Thelma. I stayed on after Thelma's death. I had sold my home on Long Branch, and I decided to build a large house close to my brothers. My nephew Jim let me have a choice lot. I decided to build a good and roomy house that would resell easily when I could no longer live by myself.

In 1988 I met my second husband, David Biddix. I had been content with my life but David was seriously "looking" for a companion. A mutual friend asked me if David could call me. I responded, "Yes, he could call and I might go out with him but I want it understood that I have my life just the way I want it". I proved myself to be wrong. Our first date was July 3rd. We were married August 17th.

My six years with David were very happy ones. He was a kind, "old" gentleman. We loved with the ardor of youth. He had a heart condition before our marriage but was able to live a normal life. His great love was bird hunting. Nothing got in his way during bird hunting season. Unless a buddy was going with him, I went. I enjoyed being outside during the autumn days. David went to a preserve near Boiling Springs to hunt. We would be the only ones hunting most days. His dogs were experts. He took great pride in them. I explained bird-hunting technique to my friends in this way. David buys the quail, turns them loose, they fly and hide. The dogs find them. We then find the dogs. It was my job to scare the hidden birds. David would shoot them as they flew away. He was a sure shooter and seldom missed. At first David dressed the birds when we got home. I soon took over this job. We gave away many of these and froze some. They made wonderful bird pies.

In his last years, David loved to go out for breakfast. Often our pastor would go with us. David finally had trouble walking - shuffling his feet but still wanting to go out to breakfast. After he was no longer able to go out and was confined to the house, he dressed every morning and spent his day in a lift-chair with the television on. I attest to the fact he did not really listen to it, for if I asked a question about what had just happened, he had no idea. We moved a hospital bed into our bedroom. I bought a single bed for myself but it was only a few days until he died on June 27, 1994 at the age of 86.

Through David I extended my acquaintances among his family and friends. I am still being blessed by knowing these people. I have made many friends during my life. When I move away from a place I keep in close touch for a while and then I tend to keep them in my memory only. At this stage in my life, many of my close friends have died.

After David's death, I readjusted to living by myself. A niece and her husband wanted to negotiate a trade with me for them to own my house when I no longer needed it. I proposed that I sell it to them and I would pay rent until I vacated the premises. This was our deal. Not long after this Ted was able to get transferred to a bank in Spartanburg. He came to Rutherfordton and Joyce stayed in Durham until their house was sold. I moved to the basement area. I had to wait until an assisted living apartment was completed. I moved into my apartment in August 1998. I really love my apartment. I have plenty of room, an enclosed garage, three meals a day delivered to me from the main center, and maid service once a week. Everything is handicap friendly: doors have handles instead of knobs, everything is on one level, tap control handles are wing-type, garbage is collected once a week, and I have a washer-dryer in my bathroom.

I still drive wherever I want to go. I attend Piedmont Baptist Church regularly. I am not as active in volunteering as I have been. I did alteration sewing for the residents in the rest home. I made walker bags for anyone and everyone, distributed through rest homes and the veteran hospital at Oteen. I have made bibs for the veterans and for an elderly daycare center. I help my homemakers club make tray favors for the hospital and rest homes. We make baskets, boxes, and bookmarks from discarded cards.

My most satisfying volunteering was helping adults learn to read. By working through Isothermal Community College, I helped several adults advance from practically illiterate to about a fifth grade reading level. They were proud of themselves and very thankful for being helped.

My mother-in-law lived to be 94. I recall statements she made about being old. She said that old age wasn't what it was "cracked-up" to be. Most of your family and friends were already dead. On her last birthday someone was marveling at how long she had lived. She quipped, "It didn't take me long to get this old!" Another favorite quotation of mine is "Old age is not for the faint-hearted."

My main health concern is arthritis. I’ve had trouble since I was twelve years old. Mama had me wear wool stockings to school. I still find keeping warm is a must. My doctors say that numbness in my fingers and feet is caused by my arthritis. I am doing all I know to do to ward off these effects but arthritis seems to be winning. I am thankful my hands, even though they are painful, are not as yet drawn and deformed.

I have always been on the happy-go-lucky team. What is the advantage in griping and complaining? My response to "How are you?" is always, "Fine!" On the inside I am fine. I have a poem that defies the idea of getting old. It ends by saying when I'm dead and buried just say of me, "Here lies one who died believing she was young!"

My belief in God has helped me tremendously. I know He loves me and wants the best for me. My prayers are mostly praise and thanksgiving. My motto is "Trust and Obey." I cannot imagine how empty life would be without a Power to sustain me and a firm hope in a better life after death.

Members of my Family:

My parents

My parents were G. Fred Hill, son of M.D. Hill and Mary Jane Keeter, and Minnie Iola Higgins, daughter of Mills Alberta Higgins and Ellen Metcalf. Dad was the youngest child in a family of ten. Mama had two brothers, one older and one younger.

Dad was born December 27, 1890 in a two-story frame house built the year he was born. The room where he was born had a large closet where the family had a cot. During a bout with pneumonia Dad lay on this cot. During this illness he professed his belief in Jesus Christ and as Baptists say, he was "born again". Years later this closet was made into a half bath because of Mama's illness. Dad died in this bathroom. So, he was born, saved, and died within a space of ten feet.

Dad was a handsome youth with curly brown hair. He had a happy childhood enjoying the interaction with his family and the community. In later years, we were entertained by the older adults recalling events from the past. In the summer, my family and visitors would gather on the porch or under a shade tree. In the winter, the semicircle around a fireplace would enlarge to give everyone a chance to keep warm from the heat given off by a well-stoked fire. Sometimes ghost stories would be the topic. Whole families came to "spend bedtime."

Dad was gifted with musical talent. He could play most any instrument. He learned to sing hymns by shaped notes. He knew the mechanics of music so keeping in time and on key came naturally. In his teen years he sang in a quartet, going to many churches.

In later years when music publishing companies would publish a small "gospel music" singing book each year, Dad was happy when he would get a new one. He had a tuning fork to give him the correct pitch. He would sing the do, re, mi's for the leading spelling part, then sing the words. Sometimes he would then sing each of the other parts. He would decide which of the new songs he would have the church choir to learn. He was choir director for many years and always encouraged the young folk to participate. Gene Cole and Tonya Hill became full time music leaders in church work.

After Dad finished "free" school, he attended Round Hill Academy at Union Mills. He was a whiz at mathematics. Later when he was a house-to-house salesman for the Rawleigh Company he kept his transactions in a large ledger. He would go down a column of figures adding the three digit numbers as he went.

All of Dad's brothers were good at carpentry work. Some made their living in this field. Two, Uncle Rob and Uncle Oliver, had a crew working under them. Uncle Oliver built many public buildings and churches. Dad could remodel his own dwelling or build the necessary barn and storage buildings. He also helped build Stonecutter Mills.

Dad could often figure out a better way to accomplish a task. For example, the year we grew lots of molasses cane, Dad took a piece of wood and shaped it as a two-edged sword. We could bring this sharpened side down on the stalks knocking off the fodder (leaves) on one down stroke and with an upstroke we knocked off more blades. After the stalk was denuded of the fodder, it was cut with a shortened mowing blade.

Dad could make the best molasses I have ever tasted. He knew how to keep the fire under the boiler burning just right, how to keep the raw juice flowing in one end and the clear syrup going out the opposite end.

After marrying Minnie Iola Higgins in 1911, Dad worked in Keeter Hardware Store for a short time before moving to the White farm to help Aunt Julia with her blind husband. I have already mentioned how hard this must have been for Dad. Hard work and exposure probably were the cause of his developing T.B. and having to take a rest cure.

The summer of the "rest" cure, Dad told me if I would be his little nurse and wait on him, Santa might bring me a sleepy-eyed doll. I guess I would bring him water. I do remember spending a lot of time with him. After my sister Ellen's death, I was told Ellen always resented my easy job of doing nothing while she was "working like a dog' helping Mama. Neither of us knew that Dad had told each of us how to get Santa to deliver our doll. We each got our doll but Ellen felt cheated.

Mr. Orders was a salesman for the Rawleigh Company and through him Dad got a job of selling these products door to door in the country. He first had a horse drawn conveyance like the proverbial "medicine man," but later he bought a Model-T Ford. This enabled him to come home every night. This type of work suited my dad. He enjoyed meeting and talking with people. Sometimes the selling seemed to take second place because of the friendly visiting.

After we moved to the Piedmont community, Dad kept the farm going with the help of the older children and a renter who lived on the farm as a sharecropper. The renter was glad to work for pay. Sometimes Dad would hire extra help. My brother James stopped school in the seventh grade so he could help with the farming.

I used to say Dad made money by selling products in order to keep the farm going so all his children would have to work. He never got rich but I often wonder how he made ends meet.

During the depression, the country people did not have money to pay for Dad's goods. It hurt Dad not to let them have items they really needed. So Dad decided to quit and oversee the farming. He tried to make money farming but that was hard to do when prices for all the produce were so very cheap. Our molasses sold for fifty cents a gallon. We made a good living but money was scarce.

After World War II Dad had an idea of his family and in-laws combining their money and efforts to start a hardware store. Several in the family contributed to this endeavor and Hill's Hardware became a reality.

Later Dad got involved selling Ferguson farm tractors. He then built "the tractor place" on Highway 74 in Rutherfordton. Through the years Ellen and Robert Hensley took complete control of the hardware store and a daughter, Martha, is in charge of it at this writing. The tractor place was sold before Dad's death. Now the Hensleys also have a hardware store in Forest City.

Dad loved and enjoyed life. He was happy to have people around. He helped my brothers erect exercise bars in front of our house where the "men" would try to outdo one another showing how strong they were. We also had a contraption where a long pole was connected to a center post enabling the pole to turn completely around. Staying on one end while the pole was rotated required some effort. Our pasture was often used as a ball field. One game involved hitting a short stick in a manner that caused it to come up two or three feet. The batter would then strike it sending it into the field. I don't remember all the details.

Dad loved to play a joke on anyone. My husband Arthur Gross loved to tell how Dad embarrassed him. Dad had a great grip. He would grip a broom handle and challenge someone to turn it while he was resisting. Arthur thought he could out-grip my dad. Dad said he thought it would take two horses to out do him. He made a great show getting ready for the contest. When Arthur tried, Dad let go and Arthur turned it easily. Dad said, "What about that! I thought it would take a team of horses and look! One jackass has done it!"

When the artificial sweetener, saccharin, which is "several hundred times sweeter than cane sugar" according to Webster, came out, Dad sold this in a very small pill. He would tell his customers how one tiny pill would sweeten lots of tea. He would then offer them one to "try." This concentrated form was extremely bitter. Dad would get a good chuckle over their reaction. Anything for a hearty laugh!

Dad had a lot of influence in Piedmont Church. He seemed to know when someone needed a friend to talk to about his problem. For years after his death someone was always referring to something "Mr. Fred" had done or said.

After Dad retired he had a bout with viral pneumonia. This really drained his energy. I do not think he ever fully recovered. He did not seem to worry because he could not go to work.

After Mama was diagnosed with cancer, Dad was very emotional about her impending death. He would say he did not know how he could endure it. Mama would say she was ready to die and did not dread death but there was no one special "over there." The Lord took care of this situation by having Dad to die suddenly the first of October so he would not experience the pain of losing his wife. Now Mama had someone "over there" anticipating her coming. Mama died six weeks later. Both of my parents had full awareness minutes before their death. This has meant much to me and to my family.

Mama had accepted her cancer with a calmness that was most unusual. My sister Louise said when the doctor told her the cancer had spread, she calmly asked the doctor how long she had. I was with Mama a lot. I would bathe her and wash her bedclothes. If Mama ever complained or shed a tear, I did not know it. She would talk with me about dying and somehow I could keep my "cool" and speak in a normal tone. I remember on one occasion when she was saying that there was no one special waiting for her I said, "Mama, you look up Mrs. Flynn and she will catch you up on all the gossip."

In my early years, Mama really worked hard. She was determined to have a clean house, plenty of food, and decent clothes that were kept laundered. No one ever went to bed dirty. Her sheets were white. A neighbor once remarked to Dad about how white Mama's wash appeared on the clothesline. Dad returned the compliment by saying, "Then you must be looking through clean windows."

I can remember how hard Mama worked, but in later years she "let" the older children assume lots of the responsibilities. Louise got the job of cooking until she married. Ellen and I always did the dishes. The boys did the barn work including the milking. Mama handled her milk to ensure the maximum product. Her churn was tended carefully so the milk would clabber perfectly. Churning would produce nice firm yellow butter. For a while we had a churn where the dashers were rotated by gears connected to a mechanism that operated when a large wheel was turned. We then used the pottery churn with a dasher on the end of a stick that was pumped up and down to agitate the milk. Mama's buttermilk was g-o-o-d. In later years Mama agreed to try an electric device that twirled a small metal dasher. Mama was convinced that this small dasher worked as good as the larger ones.

There was a space of five years between my brother Reid's and my sister Sue's births. This caused us to be like two families. The older ones had seen hard times and had to work hard. The younger ones were more sheltered and even though they worked it never seemed quite the same. Yates told me he could not remember Mama doing the cooking and general housework. After ten kids I guess she figured she deserved some rest.

In my high school years, I remember we would often be ready for school before Mama got up. She would have the supper meal cooked when we got home. Mama had a lot of health problems: nightmares, headaches, heart attack, gall bladder trouble, and two bouts with cancer. Her last stay in Rutherford Hospital was number twenty-seven, plus her times at Winston-Salem.

After Donald's birth I was staying with Aunt Dora helping care for Grandma. Ellen was working a twelve-hour shift in Stonecutter. Mama seemed to enjoy doing her chores and caring for her small children. By this time Louise was married and had birthed two babies. Her first boy lived only a couple of months. Her second child Frances was born before my brother Don. Frances loved to tease Don by calling him "Uncle Don." Mama stayed at Louise's after Frances' birth. She had taken Yates with her. When she came home, Yates was walking by himself. This seemed strange to us. Frances, Yates, and Don were near the same age and played together much of the time.

At one stage of Mama's life she was prone to have nightmarish dreams. She would wake everyone upstairs and down with her terrible wailing. Usually the dream had been about one of her children being in great danger and Mama could not help them. These terrible dreams lasted for a few months.

Mama had bad headaches often. In later years, after her beautiful long black hair had turned gray, Mama decided to have her hair cut. This solved the headache problem. The weight of the hair had caused the headaches. Mama had a permanent and her hair was soft and beautiful. By this time I was teaching school away from home but I had an understanding with the beautician that I would take care of Mama's account. During these years I took great pride in seeing that Mama was "dressed up" when she went to church. She could really look regal in nice clothes and a hat. She would get compliments from people at church but she always thought they were just talking. The minute she got home, off came the Sunday duds.

In the mid-forties, Mama had gall bladder trouble. Local doctors could not locate the trouble. Mama decided to eat baby food to keep from getting so nauseated. She finally went to Winston-Salem. The doctors there tried different approaches, especially checking her for a possible brain tumor. Finally one day an older doctor came. Mama told him she might be crazy but she knew where she hurt and indicated the spot to him. Within an hour she was undergoing an operation to remove her gall bladder. This solved that problem.

Mama later had a cancer on her right breast. The removal of the breast seemed to take care of that problem.

Mama seemed to be doing fine. She had killed and dressed several young fryers for the deep freeze and as she was sweeping the kitchen floor she began to have pain in her chest. She was taken to the hospital and stayed there for a long time. "They" did not want her to do anything - not even lift her hand. They kept her heavily sedated. Mama said she "floated" most of the time. After this Mama's hands shook all the time. If someone held her hand it would stop but the second you took your hand away it would start to shake again. Mama had beautiful hands. Her nails were always perfect. My hands were like my dad's - thick and chubby with nails always breaking.

With all the children married except me, Mama decided she needed an outside interest. She talked about getting a job. My sister Louise was operating a sewing shop and keeping all the work she could do, so she had Mama come and do the finger work on the garments. In earlier years my mother had made all our dresses and many of the men's shirts. Ellen and I would find a picture of a dress in the Sears catalogue and Mama would copy that for us. Aunt Dora was working in a plant that would sell "bundles" to their employees for a small fee. Mama got many of these packs which had a variety of piece goods. Opening these to see what was included was like Christmas morning to Mama. Mama enjoyed Christmas as much as, if not more than any of us. She loved presents, giving or receiving.

In 1960 Dad decided he wanted a big celebration in January 1961 for his and Mama’s fiftieth wedding celebration. He wanted all his friends invited. This was a monumental task for the family. We could never have succeeded were it not for the hard work of the daughters-in-law. It was a wonderful day. At Mama’s request she and Dad were buried in the outfits they wore for this occasion. Days before the party, gifts began arriving. Mama would be so excited to see "what now". But after a while she decided enough was enough, and she seemed to not care so much about the surprise.

Mama loved her children and grandchildren, but she was not the typical grandmother. She said she had raised her ten and that was enough. I was still single until 1962, and I enjoyed showing my nieces and nephews special attention. I kept a candy dish well supplied on the sideboard. The children knew they were welcome to visit this anytime without asking for permission. I was "Mother" to some of them. Frances lived nearby and was at our house often. She knew that Beatie would correct her if needed. When Louise moved to Lake Lure to work in the office of a lumber plant, Frances lived with us so she could attend school at Rutherfordton.

During the war Robert Hensley was stationed in Florida. Ellen took Julia with her but mosquito bites made Julia ill. I kept her for the summer months. She was a joy to have, learning to talk in sentences and learning to play in dirt. I could never tie her shoes so tightly but Julia could pick the knot undone. Afterward when I was faced with a problem, I would recall Julia’s tenacious attacks on those knots. She wanted to go "bare-feetedly". A special bond developed between Julia and me.

Once when I had upset the chair her daddy was sitting in, she told her mother she was not going to let me read her the funnies anymore. At her home a severe storm was in progress. Ellen commented it seemed as if it were going to blow off the roof. Julia continued with her play but said, "Good! Then we will have to go and live with Beatie." She later came to Red Springs with Mama and stayed with me several weeks. The dirt there was dark loam. Julia’s feet would get dirty. She concluded the town should be called Black Springs.

Raymond also spent time with me at Red Springs. He attended school in the second grade. I do not remember how long he stayed.

When Louise was living in Charlotte, David loved to be at Grandpa’s. Dad was retired and this was a good arrangement. I was supposed to be in charge of David. I suggested to him that there were too many possibilities on a country farm for him to spend too much time watching T. V. He decided on one hour of daylight time. I told him to select any program he liked; he would be his own monitor. I did say that watching a ball game with Grandpa would not count. Years later David drove from Charlotte to Rutherfordton to watch a special game with Grandpa. During this summer David was permitted to have his gun by himself. Of course I cautioned him about what harm a stray bullet might cause. I gave him a quarter for every starling he shot. These birds would make their nests in the eaves of the second story outside my bedroom window. I hated that constant noise. Uncle Reid thought this killing was terrible.

During my late teens I was able to do lots of the housework. This also included looking after my younger brothers, sometimes having to discipline them, often calling on them for tasks they could perform. I did a lot for them, but I expected a lot from them.

In Mama’s and Dad’s later years when I was teaching in Charlotte from 1951 to 1962, I could come home most weekends. The bond between my parents and me grew even stronger. They looked forward to Friday night when I would be coming home. I could do the week’s wash and do extra cleaning and cooking. I often took the clothes to a laundry mat on Friday night to give me a start on Saturday’s work. This continued until I married in 1962. One question Mama had about my getting married was "Who will cook the Christmas dinner?" I promised to be responsible for that.

Years later another cancer showed up in Mama. The local doctor overlooked her concern by saying she was an old woman who just wanted attention. She went to Charlotte for a second opinion and the doctor there discovered cancer in an advanced state too far along to warrant an operation. We think this later cancer was not connected to her first cancer.

During Mama’s last illness, I was married and teaching locally. I would come after school and give Mama a bed bath. If Dad wanted one, Mama let him use her electric hospital bed so it could be raised to help my back. They always enjoyed a good bath. I‘ll include here that I gave LOTS of bed baths.

When my husband Arthur was in bed, I gave him a bath every day to stimulate and freshen him. I waited on Ellen but she was able to step into the shower. James’s wife Thelma was a bed patient for a long time. She enjoyed her bath times. I would put the thin cotton blankets in the dryer to warm them before putting them under and over her. I always used two basins of water: one for a soapy wash and one for a rinse. I nearly always had the patient to put their hands and later their feet into the water. Thelma wanted me to sing to her during her baths. I knew many church hymns and I would sing them randomly. James would say that I couldn’t sing and Thelma would defend my effort.

Louise

Mary Louise Hill was born November 8th 1911, eleven months after Mama and Dad’s marriage. She was almost five years older than I. Being the oldest meant accepting responsibilities as soon as possible. When she was old enough she was the one who cooked breakfast.

I remember when she was a teenager and beginning to date, Mama thought she should have a complete "store-bought" outfit. In my mind’s eye I can still see that outfit. I think there is a picture of her wearing this dress taken beside a car. Two fellows she dated were Tom Early and Marshall Callahan, both neighbors of ours. She dated and married Walter Hollifield who was living with my uncle Hunley Higgins.

Louise and Walter were married June 1, 1929 at our home in the room we called the "Parlor" because in my grandparents time this had been a parlor in the truest sense – carpet, stuffed chairs, chaise lounge, fancy organ. The image of this parlor is very plain in my memory. As a visiting granddaughter I was not allowed in this room except on special occasions. Small children were not allowed to try out the organ, but oh did I wish that I could! Because of this I would allow small children to make as much noise as they wished on any organ or piano that I later owned.

When Walter was ready to say "I do", a turkey gobbler just outside the window joined him with a hearty "gobble, gobble". We teased about this for a long time.

Walter and Louise started housekeeping in a house on Callahan Street. Their first son, Robert, lived about two months. By the time Frances was born they had moved to Edward Street. They moved to at least four more places in Rutherfordton before living in a tenant house on our farm. Walter worked delivering for Yelton’s Milling Company.

In the winter of ’37 there was a deep snow. Walter would get up in time to milk their cow before going to work so Louise would not need to be in the snow. As soon as Walter left for work, Louise would bundle herself and Frances in several layers of clothes and head down to our house. Martin would have a horse hitched to a homemade sled and several people would be rounded up to ride the country roads. When one horse got too tired they harnessed a fresh one. Spills in the snow added to the fun. Louise had to be back home before her husband came from work.

Raymond says that Louise loved cold winter days, even a rainy day, especially around Christmas time. He recalled one night he and Louise had met on the townsquare in Charlotte after the two of them had finished the day working in separate stores. They had to wait on the city bus for a ride home. It was extremely cold and windy, but the two of them passed the time singing Christmas carols. After entering the bus they continued the carol singing.

Raymond remembers that Louise loved everything about Christmas: the cold weather, the preparations, the decorations, buying presents, wrapping them, giving them, sharing time with family and friends.

Raymond was born December 7, 1940 in the house near my parents. Louise had received word that her former flame, Marshall Callahan had been killed in a wreck at a railroad crossing. Marshall had married and had a family but was still special to Louise as a friend. Her emotional state caused the labor pains to begin. The baby was born before the doctor arrived. Mama and Polly Higgins were with her. The doctor arrived before too long.

The Hollifields moved to a house on the Smith farm, not far from Uncle Jesse’s home. David was born there October 4, 1945. David was a loving person. He often wanted his daddy to take care of him. Walter had never done much for the other small children, a typical man.

Louise was close enough to be back home often. At this time she was sewing for the public at home. David would come to the machine and interrupt her work for some special attention. Louise was always trying to make a dollar. She held home parties to sell Fratex (?) a plastic product made into household tablecloths and window treatments. She later sold jewelry and later still tried selling fine China. In Charlotte she clerked at Robert Halls, a clothing store, and at Ivey’s. During a Christmas sprint at Ivey’s, working long hours caused her feet to swell so badly that one foot actually split on top.

Louise had a big heart that reached out to anyone needing a helping hand. She became involved with the orphanage at Round Hill. She would have some of the children in her home, especially on holidays and also convince other members of our church to open their homes to these children who needed love.

One Christmas Eve the visitors along with family members went to see Roy Rogers’ movie. At that time Raymond thought that was a sinful thing to do on Christmas Eve.

When David was five years old he contracted polio and was put in a hospital in Asheville. His parents would go every day but were not allowed to stay in the ward. Louise discovered that there was a need for pajamas and footed socks used as bedroom shoes. She launched a campaign among family, church and acquaintances to supply this need. The staff was amazed and most appreciative.

When David was asked what he wanted for his birthday, his request was for a party for everyone there. Ellen baked a thirty-five pound cake. The WMU at Piedmont paid for each patient to have a Dixie cup. When the party was over David said, "Now, I want to go home." Not long after this he did get to go home.

Raymond remembers that David had difficulty doing steps. Frances was going to be married at Piedmont and Louise wanted David to be able to make the one step up to the pulpit level by himself. She would take him to the church day after day to practice walking the aisle and stepping up on the platform.

David was handicapped in participating on school teams, but he enjoyed playing with the neighborhood gang. He joined the Bugle Corp and marched in a Thanksgiving parade. He had a teddy bear that had been special through the years, so before he left for the parade he sat Teddy on the sofa and told Teddy to watch for him in the parade.

David did well in school. He secured a position with Natural Gas and has made a good living for his family.

My sister Sue related to me how Louise helped a neighbor, Mrs. Early. Mr. Early was a gruff old soul. Louise knew he went to town about the same time every evening. She would watch for his car to leave and then hurry to give the bed-ridden lady some special treat and an iced drink.

Another lady in financial straits lived in our community. Louise did many things for her. She requested that Louise be present when her time came to die. Raymond says he and James’s son Fred often rode bicycles to her house to take ice.

Louise’s family moved in with my old maid Aunt Dora to help look after her. As long as Aunt Maebell and Polly Higgins lived, Louise helped them financially even though money was never abundant in her home.

When my Aunt Hurley Higgins in Asheville needed help during her last illness, Louise left her family and stayed with her until her death.

When Charles’s wife Syble was able to go home after a long stay in the hospital, Louise stayed with that family and did all the work and waited on Syble. Syble had a nearly fatal inflammation of the digestive track. I have said that Syble was the sickest person I have ever seen who rallied and lived.

Louise regretted that she was not able to move in with Mama and Dad when they needed help during their declining years.

Even though Louise was a compassionate person, Raymond says that she had the Hill trait of loving to scare people. A memorable example was a time when she scared her brother James. For some forgotten reason the family was not at home. It was Louise’s and James’s assignment to come in the late afternoon and do the barn chores. Louise had arrived before James. She covered herself with a sheet and crouched at the foot of the bed where an aunt had recently died. When James entered, she rose up with eerie moans. James turned as white as the sheet and Louise was fearful her prank had been too effective.

Louise and I were always close. Before her marriage she would talk "girl" talk with me even though I was five years younger. When I was in college Louise made me dresses and gave me trinkets for my dormitory room. When she and I were living in Charlotte before I had a car, she would include me on family outings. When I had a back problem she took me to the doctor every day. Nothing was ever mentioned about repayment for her time and expense.

After I was married and had a home, Louise came and visited with me for a week. During this time I invited special friends of ours to lunch on several days, giving us an enjoyable time to visit and catch up on gossip. One winter after my husband’s death I went to Salisbury for an extended visit.

When Raymond was transferred to Burnsville, Louise spent a few days with me to avoid the moving commotion. Raymond and Frances had the furniture and furnishings in perfect order before Louise was taken to their new home. The view from the large window in the living room perfectly framed Mount Mitchell with all the surrounding peaks.

After Louise was in the Yancey Nursing facility, I visited her with other persons along. But our best times were when I went by myself with my crocheting and stayed all day. We would talk lots but not all the time. During these visits I realized that Louise was still a person with influence. Nurses assigned to other halls came by for a quick visit with her. On one occasion a nurse on her day off fixed a special lunch for Louise and her roommate. Also a local lady visited the home once a week, giving Louise a larger portion of her time. She would read to Louise and sing a song. Louise had a roommate who had cancer that caused her death. I read a letter her daughter wrote to Louise pages long saying what a blessing Louise had been through this ordeal. Louise still had the giving spirit. She asked me to crochet a baby blanket for someone special who was expecting.

Once on Louise’s birthday several of our family took dinner to share with Louise. She enjoyed our company but she really enjoyed the home cooked meal.

Her son Raymond was a most devoted son. He spent lots of time with her, kept her room decorated, fed her after her Parkinson’s disease caused her hands to shake uncontrollably, kept tabs on the administration to see that they followed state guidelines, kept her supplied with neat outfits, did her personal laundry, and did probably a dozen other chores which I have failed to include.

Before Louise was limited with the beginnings of Parkinson’s disease, she did many crafts. Her ceramic creations were superb and extensive. Raymond once talked her into going to a quilting session the ladies of his church were holding. On her first visit a young lady came by and inspected Louise’s stitches. She said they would not do. They were too large. They had to come out. Louise was very upset but calmed down and did go back and learned to make small acceptable stitches.

In the rest home Louise developed a kidney stone too large to pass. This caused lots of infection. The doctors thought Louise could not tolerate the operation. The family decided to take the risk. Louise came through with flying colors and was back in the rest home within a few days. After that when Louise would lament to me that she wished she could die, I told her, "Louise, you missed a good chance. Now you will have to wait patiently for another."

During our later visits when Louise wanted to know about "all the people at Piedmont", I told her that most of the ones she had counted as special friends had already died. When I sit in Piedmont poignantly remembering all the ones who are no longer here, my heart gladdens to see younger ones capably serving in their stead.

The day of Louise’s burial at Piedmont, Raymond had a good idea of having the casket open for viewing under a tree in the parking lot. Her casket was made of finished pine and was beautiful. Louise was still pretty and looked very peaceful. She had said she wished she could be buried in a pine box. So she got her wish.

I have not said much about Walter. He held a steady job at Yelton’s Milling Company until he began to complain with stomach pains. He stayed home from work so much the company replaced him with a more reliable worker. His next regular job was after they moved to Charlotte in a Cole manufacturing plant – a foundry. He liked this work but could not read blueprints. Someone needed to explain to him what was needed then he could do the work efficiently.

After retirement he helped at home. When Louise could not stand and walk long at a time, Walter made her a small table the right height for her to sit and work. Walter would hand her whatever she needed to get the meal ready for cooking. He would help her do the recommended exercises for strengthening her legs, but this did little good. Parkinson’s won and eventually Louise had no control over her feet.

In Burnsville when Louise had to go to the nursing home, Walter did not like to go and help her with her meals. Later when Walter had to be put in the rest home, he was put in the room with Louise. This did not work out. Walter tried other roommates but finally the management had to put him in a room by himself. He was an "unhappy camper". He lived sixteen months after Louise’s death on September 17, 1999, dying on January 12, 2001, at the age of 92+ years.

James

James Mills Hill has written his own story that has been read and enjoyed by many persons. He and his son-in-law David Goodrick are working on a more detailed account.

James has been an integral part of my entire life. We shared family and community life during our early life. After he married he bought the farm adjoining ours.

I will relate one instance when I let James talk me into pushing Martin off a bank into a stream. We were hoeing in a field beside this stream. James and Martin were having some sort of disagreement. When Martin was near a "good" place, I gave him a shove. He lost his balance, but before tumbling down the bank he instinctively grabbed hold of me. We both got sopping wet but no harm done.

Once James was talking about my getting married and I said I was not going to marry. He made a $5 bet with me that I would be married by the time I was 25 years old. On my twenty-fifth birthday a special delivery letter came to me in my classroom with his money. At that time my teaching salary was $92 a month for nine months out of a year. James was working for about $10 a week in Stonecutter and supporting a family.

One summer I stayed with James’s children so he and Thelma could both work in the mill. Fred was having some trouble with his breathing. The doctor wanted him in his crib outside in the early sunshine. I was able to do a satisfactory job.

One incident really caused me great anxiety. Joann and Jim had been playing outside. Jim had tangled with some barbed wire and had a cut on his temple. Jo came in leading him with blood spouting out of the cut with every heartbeat. Oh, My! I remembered to put pressure on the place until the flow stopped. Luckily the flow did stop. I had Jim stay in the house the rest of that day.

Thelma and I got along fabulously. She was like a sister to me. We never had any friction in our relationship. When I had to leave Arthur, I chose to go to my brother James’s home. James and Thelma had visited me often. James had given me support when I needed it.

Once when the drain to the septic tank was clogged, he helped me clean out the basement where the downstairs commode had overflowed. Then he had someone cut a section out of the cement outside the basement door to find the trouble spot and replace the drain. He was like a father to me. Any job requiring a man’s expertise was delegated to James after my husband’s accident and later death. This role was reinforced all the time I lived on Wasena Lane.

I lived with James and Thelma for six weeks after I left Arthur. Thelma and I worked harmoniously in the kitchen. Whatever one did was always ok with the other one.

Later after Ellen’s death and after my stay in Reid’s and Ruth’s basement apartment, I literally moved in with James. I stayed on after Thelma’s death until my house on Wasena was finished. For years the room I slept in was called Beatie’s room.

I took my turn with sitting with Thelma at night during the later weeks of her life; but when she decided she wanted James, I could not persuade her to let him sleep. She would call for him loudly and, of course, he always came.

After Thelma’s death I decided to go to Newfoundland with a Christian Tour group. I talked and talked to James as to how this get-away would help him. Finally he consented. On this tour he met Sue Harris and from that time he was convinced he had met his intended wife. It took many trips to Asheville to convince Sue. Sue was a treasure to the family, community and church. She was a very lovely and loving lady.

Now that I am living in Forest City I visit James often. It is my second home. If I have been by myself all day, I will probably decide to spend time with James, Edith and Helen. I always feel at home there. I would never hesitate to raid the refrigerator, and thankfully I am not treated as a guest who should be entertained. I intend to help enjoy the delightful sunroom recently added. I get invited to any occasion when only "the family" is involved.

Ellen

Ellen Hill Hensley was born March 4, 1915 and died August 31, 1983. Ellen was born on the White farm, the third of the family of ten children. I was born eighteen months later. The two of us grew up very close. She taught me many things. We played together as small children, and in our teenage years where one went the other one went also. I do not remember ever going to a party without her. The two of us spent lots of time with the two Flynn girls. Modene and I were buddies. This left Ellen to buddy with Marie who was younger than Modene. None of us four every wondered about this arrangement.

In her early years Ellen had trouble with her lungs. The family doctor told Mama she would not be able to raise Ellen, but he did not know Mama’s nursing expertise. Ellen outgrew this difficulty and lived a normal hard working life.

Ellen was always a speedy worker. She never lagged behind when we were hoeing. Slow Beatie had to be helped out at the end of the row. Years later my Aunt Hurley Higgins thought I was a fast ironer. She did not know my sister Ellen’s ironing speed.

When Ellen got a job at Stonecutter Mill filling shuttles, she bragged day after day about how many boards she had filled, comparing her achievement to all around her. When the family was peeling peaches for canning, everyone needed the same number of peaches in the pans. Now see who could get through first. Guess who always won. I have no idea what would have happened if I could have out-peeled her just once. Mama said that if she needed a job done in a hurry she would ask Ellen. If time was no factor and she wanted the job done thoroughly she would ask me. When Ellen and I did the dishes, which was for many years, we had the work divided but Ellen tried to get through first.

During our teenage years Ellen was working at Stonecutter. She bought the cloth and made look-alike dresses for the two of us. They were a soft yellow with dark brown trim. Ellen used her money wisely. Once she bargained with a furniture store for a large stove for the living room. The owner told my parents to never worry about Ellen’s ability to make a good bargain. She bought a bedroom suit with a large mirror with two side mirrors angled so one could see three sides of himself. She also bought some living room furniture. When she married, this furniture helped to furnish her first home.

Ellen was riding to work with Robert Hensley who lived west of us and worked at Stonecutter. They became more than casual friends and were married secretly on June 25, 1938. Why secretly? You tell me. I never knew. When they were living at their first residence, Ellen was hanging clothes on the line and a neighbor was calling "Mrs. Hensley"" over and over. Finally Ellen realized she was "Mrs. Hensley".

Ellen had always said she wanted children. I never thought about whether or not I wanted to marry and have a family. Consequently my mind stayed on other things. Once in college a group of us girls were yakking. A teacher told me later that while they were talking about marrying I had said that I did not have time to get married. I did not marry until I was 46 years old, so no children. My husband was older than I was. He suggested that we could adopt. I asked him to consider how old he would be when the child was a teenager. That was the end of the talking about adopting.

Ellen and Robert bought a house, later remodeled it and lived in Spindale for years. Ellen was a stay at home mom for the early life of her three children: Julia born March 24, 1943; Martha born April 16, 1947; Robbie born July 28, 1950.

Sometime later Ellen worked at Doncaster as a seamstress. She kept her competitive spirit and tried to outdo the other workers. She worked there until Hill’s Hardware began operation.

When Sue started working at Stonecutter in the dyeing department, she boarded with Ellen. The year I taught at Sunshine I stayed with her for a while but later lived in the teacherage rooming with a Mrs. Melton. The teacherage was on the school property.

When Julia was in high school, Robert and Ellen decided to host a foreign student for a year. The girl from Denmark had a delightful year. Ellen planned for her to experience many, many things.

When Ellen was working full time in the Hill’s Hardware store, her family was left to fend for themselves during the day.

During the mid-seventies when the McBrayer house was to be put on the auction block, Robert suggested that Ellen go look at it. She had no idea of being interested but went because of Robert’s interest. After she cased the house and grounds she told Robert he could buy it for her. She moved in but continued to keep her apartment upstairs over the store. Robert would sleep at the house.

When I discovered Ellen was having trouble with her kidneys I told her one day that she or I was going to call the doctor immediately and make an appointment. She called. When I took her for her appointment she had her hospital necessities with her and she was sent to the hospital. It was discovered that she had a growth the size of a football. Her operation lasted four hours. They had to remove all her female organs along with the large colon. I stayed with her in the hospital. My husband had died earlier. She was so sick she did not need or want visitors. I was the watchdog who would say, "Well perhaps for a minute or two." Even Robert did not have the privilege of staying as long as he would have liked.

When she was able to sit up Robert brought her a rocking chair. When she was permitted to eat, she ate too much for her condition and had severe stomach cramps. The doctor told her that her intestines had lain on a table for a long time during the operation. At Ellen’s suggestion we got an electric warming pot and kept a dish of clear broth warm. She would take a small amount every half hour or so. Finally she tolerated more solid food.

I suggested that when she was able to leave the hospital she go to my home for the winter months and then I would go live with her in the spring. She agreed. The first few days at my house I thought it best to let her have complete rest. Then I said I had to find her something to occupy her time. Ellen was never a voracious reader like me. I had started a latch hook design and suggested she try the latch hooking. Once I got her started she did not know when to quit. The two of us latch hooked endless hours, even after we were in the Big house.

Robert would come every night for supper. This made a break in Ellen’s day.

I have told the foregoing episode in an earlier account but it needs to be included in Ellen’s story.

Martin

My brother Martin was born August 11, 1918 on the John White farm. He has some recollection of his early years on that homeplace. We moved when he was four years old.

I do not remember but I have been reminded that I was the cause of one of his fingers not being perfectly straight. Martin was crawling up the stairs when I stepped on his hand. I hope I was sorry when this happened.

Martin recalls his third grade teacher, Theresa Taylor who later married Ross Hill. His fifth grade teacher was Ruth Moore Williams. Martin had not missed a day of school and when he had a bad earache, she suggested that he come to school. He could put his head on the desk on a hot water bottle. He made his fifth year with perfect attendance.

Martin recalls that he had terrible earaches. He loved to let the sun shine directly on his ear to ease it.

He recalls his seventh grade teacher was Miss Hoyle. In the eighth grade when we were out of school for Christmas holidays, when it was time to go back, inclement weather extended our vacation time. Martin decided he liked not being in school. He never went back.

Today he recommends that everyone get a good education. He has never regretted his decision. He has always had good common sense and was adept at figuring out any problem in a logical way.

On the farm everyone worked. Martin recalls plowing with a large turning plow pulled by two horses. He was not tall enough, so he had to hold his arms up even with his face. He was not strong enough to move the heavy plow. On turning he had to stop at an exact place so that when the horses swung around the plow would be in position to continue without his having to move it.

Martin recalls that sometime later he was plowing on a Saturday afternoon. His plow was doing a good job of covering crab grass. Martin was thinking this was saving a lot of hoeing. Rain was in the forecast and Martin really wanted to finish the field. He did finish – almost by moonlight. When he got home Dad scolded him for working so late. Martin was really hurt by this, for he thought he had done the right thing. Good parents can make big mistakes.

On the farm we raised our bread, corn and wheat. Cutting wheat with a cradle was a man’s job. Martin became so good at this that neighbors hired him at fifteen cents an hour. Ten cents was the price for a hired hand. Children hoed for five cents an hour.

Walter Hollifield was of slender build but strong muscles. He worked for a milling company and handled large bags of dairy feed. He had a day from work and wanted to help on the farm. Martin was cradling, and Walter wanted to try. Martin says that Walter really learned quickly and was doing a good job. When Martin suggested he take the cradle again, Walter did not want to give it up. The next morning Walter’s muscles were so sore he could not get out of bed. He had a terrible day with lots of liniment being applied.

In his teen years Martin went with a car dealer to Detroit and bought a 1937 B Model Ford.

He worked at Stonecutters in the finishing plant, filled shuttles for a while, then went back to the finishing plant. When he asked to be off for a week, the overseer said no way. After a short exchange, Martin walked off the job.

His next job was driving a transfer truck. He average weekly pay was $80+ a week – much higher than Stonecutter. He kept this job until he was drafted.

In service he quickly earned the rank of Sargent. He was in training for motorized vehicles – right down Martin’s alley! After a short time they asked him to be an instructor.

At the end of a 3-day pass, Martin was returning to camp when he was rear-ended by a car being driven by the company commander who reportedly had fallen asleep. Martin’s car’s left back fender was damaged. The commander’s new car rolled over and had lots of damage, but the commander was not seriously hurt. The commander had some of his men scout around, find an available body and replace his wrecked one. A new paint job made the car appear as good as before.

Martin then asked the commander about Martin’s car being fixed. The commander brushed him off. Martin then gave the commander an ultimatum; if he did not have a check for $500 by Monday morning he would go to the "higher ups" and give them the details about the situation. Martin had his check by Saturday.

Because of this incident Martin thought it best to change companies. He went to another commander and asked to join his unit. He said he did not have a place for Martin’s rank. Martin suggested a place for a private. The commander agreed and started the paperwork. His commander said he would see that the transfer did not go through. Martin said, "I don’t think you want to do that." Soon his transfer notice appeared on the board. Don’t mess with my brother Martin!

After being in this camp for 2 ½ to 3 years, Martin was sent overseas on what he terms a "sight-seeing Tour." He spent time in England, France and Germany. His unit then went to the Philippines. There they occupied a barrack which had been used for the Air Force. They turned in the guns, getting them back once every week for a general cleaning. At this location six men were in one barrack. Water had to be carried in. A local boy would carry enough water for all six for fifty cents a day.

Next he was sent to Northern Japan (Sendi?). Then to Yokohama. He remembers arriving there on Thanksgiving Day and having a turkey dinner.

Overseas Martin’s small unit was responsible for seeing that the company’s small vehicles were kept in good working order. He recalls once when they had checked a car, Martin asked if he could sign the work order. He wanted some proof he had been stationed there.

Back in the states a long train ride had caused Martin to have a bad case of hemorrhoids. When the doctor checked him, he suggested that Martin insist on having this taken care of before getting a discharge. Martin told the "powers-that-be" what he wanted. They paid his request no heed and processed his dismissal papers ready for him to sign. Martin said he would not sign until he had his operation. This was arranged and Martin has never been troubled with this condition again.

Martin and I corresponded while he was in service. Once on a letter to me he added the word "Personal" to the address. This infuriated my sister Sue. We did not have family secrets! Martin learned of this and he sent her a "Personal" letter, which simply said, "Hi, Sis. How does it feel to get a "personal" letter?" This made her even more upset.

While in service Martin met the love of his life. He was on a crowded bus when this "nice-looking" lady got on. Martin insisted that she take his seat. Martin sat on the arm and they talked. After talking for thirty miles they exchanged names and addresses. Martin went to Knoxville on a three-day pass and on many weekends when he could leave on Friday evening and be back for roll call on Monday morning.

The lady was Chloe Burnett – a schoolteacher who worked as a waitress on weekends and summers at a high-class establishment, The Regis Brothers, in Knoxville, Tennessee. She and Martin were married August 18, 1942.

They lived in Ellen & Robert’s basement in their Spindale house for a while. Then they rented a 20X20-garage apartment on Deviney Street. While they were living there, they adopted a daughter, Birdie Lou.

They remodeled a house we called the Zeb house and lived there until they built the house on Flynn Road in 1955.

I recall that after a snowfall and after dark when the temperature fell enough to freeze the "runway", people would congregate there for a sledding party. Our preacher’s wife, Mrs. Whitmire, was the most enthused of all the sledders. She really loved it!

When Martin returned to Rutherford County after the war, he became involved with the beginning of Hill’s Hardware. Dad had the lumber cut and sawed and the building erected. Uncle Oliver, a seasoned master builder, was the overseer.

Martin worked in the plumbing department until he transferred to the tractor place after its construction.

After Christmas 1964 Chloe & Martin decided to move to Florida where she and her twin sisters could find jobs with good pay. They bought a house in Jacksonville, Florida. Chloe loved living there.

The twin sisters lived in a trailer nearby. Chloe lost a sister, then her mother. Chloe died within a few hours of an attack she had on January 12, 1985. Not long after that the other sister died.

Martin kept the house for several years before selling it to move to Hendersonville to be near Birdie Lou and her husband Harold McLaughlin. Then they moved to Casa Grande Arizona where Harold works in a community college – high ranking and high paying. Her two children Lisa and Steven have become accomplished adults. Lisa married Lee Lohr and has two children: Cheyenne Leigh and Kyle Logan. Steven has a son Nicholas. The grandchildren are a special joy to Birdie and Harold. Martin also enjoys the extended family. He plans to spend Christmas 2001 with them in Arizona.

Martin and Chloe seemed to be perfectly happy with one another. I never did get any hint of disagreement. They worked together as a team helping the young people in Piedmont, planning interesting things to do, including camping trips.

Before travel trailers were available, Martin rigged a trailer that was compact when shut down. When set up they had a cooking area with a two-burner propane gas stove. The top was used as a sleeping place. Corene and Oscar Bridges went with them to Silver Lake Canada. The only ice available was at a dairy farm where ice harvested from the river was stored under sawdust.

In 1972 Martin purchased a new truck and a regular camping trailer. He and Chloe traveled to Alaska – a total of 1400 miles. Dust on the Alaskan dirt roads was a problem. The law required headlights be on at all times. To prevent dust from covering everything in the "air-tight" trailer, cooking utensils were kept in a large garbage bag. The eating table was taken apart and laid on the couch covered by a blanket.

In Alaska there was no radio communication. On returning to "civilization" they heard that the Space Shuttle had returned to earth. News to them. They did not know it had been launched.

The short camping trips are too numerous to estimate. On short notice they would travel several miles for only one meal, often cooked on site.

After Chloe’s death, Martin felt the need to be alone. He bought a camera and toured the New England states "solo".

One summer he took his two grandchildren to points of interest in the United States and the Rockies in Canada.

After moving to Florida Martin worked on his own. Later he agreed to work for Yates as an overseer on the job. This involves one job here and another one yonder, crisscrossing the United States. At age 83 he is still on the job.

Several years ago he was having some heart problems. He went to Texas to have a stint put in an artery. His knees have caused some problems, but he just "keeps ticking."

Reid

Jesse Reid Hill was born November 12, 1920, two years before we moved from the White’s farm. He was named for Dad’s brother Jesse and Mama’s brother Reid Higgins. He was a good boy never causing anybody any trouble. One fault we as kids thought he had – he would always tell our parents all of the events that occurred. When we kids had our differences, we could have let them go unreported but Reid would faithfully tell "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

I remember when the roof of our kitchen caught fire from a flue burning the accumulated soot. The elderly ladies were taken to the front yard away from the commotion. One of these ladies reported that Reid was with them praying for the fire to be brought under control.

On one occasion Dad was missing a check. After someone gave Reid a bath and put clean clothes on him, he said, "Let me get my money." He pulled the folded check out of his dirty pants pocket.

We never stopped teasing Reid about the time he was asked to go to the cotton field and "turn" the watermelon vines. An older person was going to plow between the rows. Watermelons had been planted in the cotton rows. The runners needed to be laid close to the cotton stalks, and then after the plow had passed, the runners were again moved to their original place. Reid had just had his Saturday afternoon bath and had on clean clothes. When asked to go work he replied, "I can’t waste my time turning watermelon vines."

An accident at school caused Reid to crush an elbow. He and a chum were play wrestling. Another boy came up behind Reid and jumped on Reid’s back causing him to fall. No mischief was intended. Reid’s arm was kept immobile

for so long it did not want to bend. He was put to sleep and the arm was partially straightened. For all of that summer Reid carried a bucket of rocks wherever he went. The arm returned to almost normal movement.

As a young man Reid had inherited his dad’s brown wavy hair. He was teased about how much he combed his hair. After Reid married he and Ruth would exchange haircuts. Once Reid was asking Ruth to cut his shorter. She explained that she was fearful of cutting the wave from his hair. Reid explained that it would grow back. When Ruth had finished the job, Reid was shocked at the closeness of the cut. He vows he never again gave Ruth any suggestion for his hair cuts. He would always say, "Anyway you like it will be fine with me."

After high school Reid attended Mars Hill College for two years. He roomed with John Hodge, Jr. Once when the family visited him he demonstrated his ability to put people to sleep. Don was the one put under his spell. He had Don doing several things. One I remember he told Don that his legs were covered with bees. Don frantically tried to knock them off. My dad did not like this kind of doings and told Reid he should stop practicing it. So far as I know Reid never again worked his magic.

At home we were intrigued by having a table rise off the floor. Several persons would put their hands flat on the table and a person with the special ability could command the table to rise on two legs. The table would respond. When asked a question, the table would respond by going down to the floor then rising back up. It could be asked to tap the appropriate number of times to answer a specific question. The table could be asked to raise three legs off the floor. The table would respond to Reid more readily than to any of us. I do not remember our parents objecting to this.

After finishing his two-year business course in college, Reid got a job with Queen Ann Mill in Ellenboro. During this period of time he met Ruth on a blind date. He saw her first in her "work" clothes and thought, "Gee, she’s pretty dressed like that."

Reid went to Asheville and took an exam for the Civil Service. They later called him to report to the Veterans Administration in Washington, D. C. At that time my brother Martin was driving a transfer truck. He knew of a driver who was going to D. C. who would give Reid a ride. The driver took him to a truck stop in Washington where Reid was able to bunk down for a short while. His boss knew of someone who had a room to rent closer to work.

Reid was drafted while working there. He was given a military leave of absence. After reporting to the army he came home on a 4-day pass in December and he and Ruth were married December 19th in 1943.

After the war the Washington Office placed him in Winston-Salem, NC. He later transferred to the Federal Highway Department and was located in Raleigh, N. C. After this stint he moved to Hagerstown, MD for 13 months, then to Albany, NY then to Montgomery, Ala, and then to Columbia, SC

Reid then transferred to the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms and worked in Washington, DC until his retirement, but commuted from a home in Vienna, VA.

In Reid’s work he often traveled with another man to inspect some road project. The two of them would share a hotel room. On entering the room one would ask, "Which bed do you want?" When Reid and Ruth had the occasion to stay in a hotel, Reid according to habit asked, "Which bed do you want?" Ruth seemed puzzled and meekly asked, "Can’t we sleep together?"

While still in Vienna Reid had a home built on some of the homeplace land for his retirement days. He lived there several years and decided to build a house with some solar heat efficiency.

Reid bought or built a house in every place he was located. He contended this was the best financial situation.

His faithful wife Ruth had to adjust to these many moves. I never heard her complain. Their two children Sandra and Reggie had to adjust to different schools.

When Reid and family were living in Raleigh and I was working at Red Springs, N.C. I would visit them over a weekend. I presume I rode the bus. We always had a delightful visit.

When they first went to Raleigh they lived in an upstairs apartment. They consciously tried to be quiet and not disturb the downstairs people. When their new house was complete the family entered in unison, stomping their feet loudly and yelling uproariously. It seemed so wonderful to have a place of freedom.

When Reid’s family came to Rutherfordton for their summer vacation or holidays, they made the homeplace headquarters. This caused the bond between us to grow stronger.

I have always admired Ruth for being able to handle situations efficiently. For example, a teacher in her high school taught that if anyone could read there was no limit to what one could accomplish. Ruth taught herself to sew by reading the printed instructions even to the extent of making beautiful men’s suits for her husband.

Ruth has always had the ability to choose the right materials and accessories to make an outfit look just right. She dresses very neatly and can "make-up" her face perfectly. Ruth is never happy unless her house is absolutely immaculate. She is an excellent cook and can plan and execute a large meal for the extended family perfectly.

Reid has always been willing to help but he plays second fiddle to Ruth. He was very good at helping with the children when they were small. The children attended church from birth until they were married. Their son Reggie has been working through his church as a missionary going overseas, especially to Russia, to help in furthering the "Good News." Sandra has a special musical talent and plays the piano superbly. For years she has been paid to be the pianist at a church in Spartanburg.

As I stated earlier in my story I lived in a basement apartment with Reid and Ruth after Ellen’s death. Ruth saw that everything was in tip-top shape for me to move into the apartment.

Reid, Ruth and I went on a two-week tour to California. We saw the Rose Bowl Parade and countless attractions on the way there and back home by a more southern route. Later Reid organized and directed many tours from a local base but hiring a coach and driver from Christian Tours.

Reid honored Ruth on her fiftieth birthday by inviting people from all the places they had lived. I was surprised that many people came many miles from many places to show their friendship to Ruth. Of course the local family were there also. The meal was at Ron & Eddies’ in Forest City and was a total surprise to Ruth.

After retiring Ruth wanted to get her college degree just for self-improvement. She took courses at the local Community College and finished her studies at Gardner Webb at Boiling Springs, N.C.

Reid and Ruth have always been good church workers wherever they were located. They now attend the First Baptist Church of Spindale, N.C. If an elderly person needs special attention, Reid and/or Ruth is always available to take care of the situation. Reid lives near the hospital and will be among the first people to show if a family member or friend is admitted. They offer their home to anyone from out of town who has a family member in the hospital. This applies to the extended family members who might be in town for whatever reason.

Ruth often serves as Sunday School teacher. She also taught a crocheting class at her church for an extended time. Reid sings tenor in the choir and serves as a deacon in the church. For many years he was the treasurer for the Green River Association.

Sue

Minnie Sue Hill Koon was born June 23, 1925 and died April 1, 2001. Her birth was four years and seven months after Reid’s. Mama really did love her curly-haired pretty baby. If Sue cried Mama would say, "Can’t someone take care of my baby?" I was almost nine years older and it often was my job to look after Sue.

Sue loved to be outdoors. She was fascinated by the leaves on the trees. Someone had the idea of making a bed in a wooden box, putting a rope on one end so I could pull her around. She was content as long as she was in motion looking up at the trees.

I will digress here to relate an incident about the difference in our ages. Sue and I met twin girls during Sue’s teenage years. One of them asked which one of us was the older. Sue said rather indignantly "Can you not tell when there is ten years difference in our age!" The person then asked Sue, "Are you really ten years older than she is?" Did I let Sue forget this incident? What do you think?

Sue was a beautiful small child. Everyone loved her. Her dark hair lay in small ringlets. Once when Ellen had combed and fixed Sue’s hair, Sue went to a large mirror with two angled side mirrors that gave a person a three-sided view. Seeing herself in this mirror Sue said to herself "I’m just too pretty to be real!" Someone heard her and we teased her unmercifully all her life about this.

Mama would make her pretty dresses, smocked at the yoke. She and Mama were always close. Mama love to brag on all of her children and Sue gave her reason to be proud of her.

When Sue was in high school, Mama would do Sue’s share of the chores so Sue could study. This paid off. Sue was valedictorian of her graduating class and won the coveted J. L. Taylor first Honor Award, chosen by the faculty as being the best all around student.

In high school in an English class, every student was asked to write to a person in military service. A classmate suggested to Sue that Sue write to the classmate’s brother, Bill Koon. Therein began the acquaintance that led to a marriage after Bill came home from the war. She was married July 7, 1945 to James Flay Koon, always referred to as Bill.

After high school Sue attended Berea College. She thought Berea was a beautiful campus. When Bill came home, Sue wanted to quit school and come home. We persuaded her to finish her second year.

After their marriage Sue and Bill rented an apartment in Marion and Bill worked for Duke Power. Two of their children were born while they were living in Marion. James Patrick was born June 27, 1946 and Larry Stephen was born August 19, 1947. Sue had a very difficult birth with Pat. Martin Daniel (Marty) was born on June 12, 1962. The two older brothers were in high school by then.

After Hill’s Hardware was in operation Bill worked in the plumbing department until his arthritis became too bad for this type of work. He then went into the business of selling eggs. His old chicken houses are still standing at this writing. The two older boys were a big help in this endeavor and the money they were paid helped to pay their college tuition. Bill finally had to give this project up.

Bill’s terrible living conditions during the war caused him to be greatly handicapped. He tried different doctors and different medications but none seemed to remedy the situation. Bill has never been one to complain. He takes whatever lot comes his way with stoic acceptance.

When Sue and Bill came to Rutherfordton they lived in a house on our farm, but later bought a place in the Green Hill community. Later they built a brick house across the road on this property.

Sue worked for years at Stonecutter Mills. The Big Boss liked her work and she was given much responsibility. She made a good salary. She seemed happier working than she had been as a stay-at-home mom. Bill helped with the housework and would drive her to work if the weather was bad. For years Bill would go in time to take her to lunch in a nearby cafeteria.

Sue was very happy when she retired and reveled in doing whatever she wished. After Mama’s death in 1967, Sue asked for a carnival glass vase as a special momento. She said she could always grab a pencil from that vase on the mantel on her rush out the door. That vase gave her the collecting bug and Sue collected this and that for the rest of her life. Her collecting gave her something to be interested in and she took great pride in her collections.

Sue was very interested in genealogy and did lots of research and collecting information. Sue probably thought she had plenty of time for organizing this project but after her lung trouble she never felt up to the task.

Sue was always easy to get upset. Once she accidentally swallowed a bit of green apple. She meant to chew it and spit it out, having been told that green apples were hard to digest. A boy in our community had died from eating too many green apples. Sue thought she was doomed from that one bite and ran in the house asking Dad to hold her that she was dying.

Another time she was playing with a syrup bucket putting it on her head as a hat. The bucket slipped down over her ears and the sharp rim inside prevented it from slipping back off. She was hysterical until Martin got the tin snips and cut the bucket off her head. After this Sue was extremely fearful of her head getting enclosed in any situation. When she needed to have an MRI, the nurse suggested that she place a light cloth over her eyes. This worked fine.

Sue functioned on two levels, very high or very low. She did not know how to hit a happy medium. Once Sue formed an opinion there was no way to change her mind. If I did not agree with her point of view I learned to keep silent.

When I celebrated my 80th birthday the invitations sent to my family and friends suggested that instead of presents, people should write something personally to me. I have decided to include the "volume" Sue wrote about me which I appreciated and treasure.

September 16, 1996

Dear Beatie,

There is no starting or stopping place for me to tell you what you have meant to me through the years.

I remember what all you did for my younger brothers, so I’m sure my gratitude should start before my memory does. Anyway it seems as if all my life you, Ellen, and Louise were like second mothers to me.

I’m almost sure I can remember your combing my hair when I was small. I know I remember going to church and laying in your lap to sleep while you sometimes played with my hair. Years later you have combed and combed after my surgeries.

I have always been proud of you. Wearing your nurses’ uniform in a play when I was in elementary school made me think I was big stuff to have a sister in nurses training. Later I could say with pride; she’s in college, she’s a teacher, she’s getting her masters, she’s working on her doctors degree, she’s teaching school, she’s a principal, she cuts pulp wood – and later – she’s teaching adults to read and write, she took care of Ellen and Thelma, she bakes bread for everyone, she helps take care of the rest homes and the ones she knows in them, and she always comes running when I need her.

When I was growing up, you left home before I got ready for you to go, but you came back for weekends, summers, and holidays often enough for us to make more memories.

I’ll try to stop bragging and start just remembering.

I REMEMBER:

Going with you to spend the night with Aunt Dora and I wouldn’t let you take off my new smocked pongee dress over my head and you let me sleep in it. Thank you. I was so afraid of that dress getting caught on my head.

You and Ellen going to BYPU on Sunday night and my wanting to go but by the time I was old enough, Piedmont no longer had it.

You and Ellen going to tacky parties and my thinking it was somehow as important as going to the moon.

Going with you and Woodrow on at least one date. Now I wonder if you and Woodrow wanted me or if it was Daddy who wanted me to go.

All the times you routed me out of bed to go warm my feet – sometimes more than once a night.

Walking from elementary school to the yarn mill where you worked to come home with you and how nice the ladies were that worked with you. They treated me special because they liked you. I have never forgotten what one of them said she told her son’s teacher – "There’s more room on the outside than in."

The time you were washing clothes and saved Donald’s life when he had taken a bite of poison apple.

Your taking such good care of Charles when all the kids had complications from scarlet fever.

Sharing our romances including letters. I have never forgotten the clever ones Ted wrote. Remember – "Turn over – no, not you – the page."

The many evenings we walked up to the peach orchard to watch the sunset. There was something almost spiritual about those sunsets.

Your making me dresses. You even made us some alike.

The flower garden you made and worked in so hard in front of the house.

The blackberry vines you planted across the road close to where Reid later built.

The times you helped make molasses. The cane stripping that came first. The times you made molasses candy with parched peanuts in it.

The casseroles you made from left-over white beans and canned tomatoes and how good they were.

The formal dinner you had with Ellen and your friends with (now unknown) number of courses, I guess just to practice being high class.

All the chores we shared: Monday wash days, hoeing, drying fruit, emptying rain barrels when it started raining, picking blackberries, scrubbing the floors with white sand, putting lime in the fireplaces in summer.

All the fun we shared doing these chores, playing pollyanna, fox and geese, playing in the branch