A Word Edgewise |
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A Word Edgewise |
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Last Updated 04/26/06
For more literature go
to Clendenin Books
Email: mjclen@our-town.com
WHAT ARE YOUR FIRST MEMORIES
By Mary Joe Clendenin
“Now that another year has begun, it seems a good time to review family history, and to ask you to do your part by recording your own history, or doing a catch-up in your journal, if you keep one. I know all the excuses, “I don’t have anything to write.” “No one would ever want to read about my humdrum life.” I beg to disagree with you. One of these days when some relative begins to search for bits of family history, your bit of the jigsaw puzzle must have a piece to slip into place
My mom made all those excuses when I asked her to write her autobiography. Urging her to start
writing I said, “Just start with the first thing you remember and tell about things you saw, and felt, and did.
Don’t stop to ask if events were important. She finally began, and enjoyed the memories, though not all were
present.
Mom, Mary Lucy Womack, was born 1893 in Tate County Mississippi, she was 76 years old, living
alone when she began this story of her life (She wrote 45 pages.). We, her children have cherished her memories,
consider them a rare treasure.
She Began: I REMEMBER MARY.
“She was born March 1, 1893, near Barr, Mississippi. Her father, W. O. Womack, was overseer of a
cotton plantation that worked several families of Negroes. Her mother, Wirt Adams Love Womack taught school near where
they lived. The family was her mother, father, on older brother Eaton Love, born July 9, 1888, and a sister Matilda
Oliver, born July 19, 1892. Within this home also lived W. O.’s sister Annie who was a widow. Near them lived two
other sisters, my Aunt Cora, we called her Aunt Toe. She married Uncle Len Burford who was a widower with six boys
and one girl. Uncle Len owned and operated the only gin around. He lost a son at the gin one time when there was an
explosion, and I just can remember hearing the loud noise when there was another explosion and another of his sons
lost his life. The boiler exploded and Lester climbed the ladder to fix it and his boot heal hung on the ladder and
he burned to death. I remember the excitement and sorrow when Papa came in and told Mama and Nanny (aunt Annie) what
had happened.
“I remember the next day Eaton and Sister and I standing in the yard watching the procession
passing: the first wagon with the home-made coffin in it, and the wagons and buggies following slowly behind. I
remember how deep the dust in the wagon ruts was,. why I remember that, I don’t know.
“Up the road a piece lived Aunt Ella, we called her Lelly. She married Bill Poag. On a piece
of land further up lived Bud Poag, Uncle Bill’s brother, and on the opposite side of the road was the one-room
school house where Mama taught all ages from seven years old up to 18 or 20. But there were not a lot of students
as I remember. I remember just one boy that used to tease me. He would tag me and run and dare me to catch him.
He missed school some days because his legs ached. His name was House Poag.
“I remember I used to love to go to Toe’s and spend the night. There was a room full when we
all sat around the fireplace after supper. Uncle Len had a daughter who was not bright. Of course, I didn’t know
anything about that then, her name was Lizzie. She had an illegitimate daughter about my age.
“Toe was an old maid when she married Uncle Len. She was a good, honest woman, seemed a bit
stern and reserved, but I loved her. She said I was her girl and Aunt Ella claimed Sister for her girl. She would
visit Aunt Ella and I Aunt Cora.
Barr was just a grocery and dry goods store and Post Office, all in the same building.”
Of course, there is much more, but that is quoted as an example. Mom thought it was not important
enough to record. And, perhaps, it holds no interest to any but family. Still, it gives a picture of how life was like
back in the 18th century. (The dust would make us feel right at home, now, except it would be car tracks instead of
wagon.)
Not many extended families sitting together in the evenings, now. Many differences, all mentioned in other sources, but the personal pictures make the life-patterns more real.
So, start your journal. Tell of your family, of your first memories. Your descendents will bless
you.
Hope you have kept your resolutions so far. Make this one of them, and may the Lord bless your
days and sweet dreams make you smile in your sleep.