November 26, 2014

Wednesday's Child - Shirley Faye McCarty


Shirley Faye McCarty

Born on December 29, 1943

Daughter of
Charlie J. "Buddy" McCarty and Emily V. Mason

Sister to
Patsy "Pat" and William "Bill"

Died on August 23, 1944
Buried in the Old Pine Hill Cemetery
Sicily Island, Catahoula Parish, Louisiana


Budded on earth to bloom in Heaven


November 25, 2014

Tuesday's Tune - The True Meaning of Thanksgiving



Wishing everyone a blessed Thanksgiving

"Acknowledge the providence of Almighty God...obey his will...be grateful for His benefits."
~ George Washington

"We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures."
~ Thornton Wilder

"O Lord that lends me life, lend me a heart replete with thankfulness!"
~ William Shakespeare

"Reflect upon your present blessings...not on your past misfortunes."
~ Charles Dickens

"I do not think of all the misery, but of the glory that remains."
~ Anne Frank

"Enter into His gates with thanksgiving...be thankful unto Him...for the Lord is good."
~ Psalm 100:4,5


Nasif Clinic-Hospital Opens in Jonesville, 1959

The following article appeared in the November 8, 1959 edition of the Monroe Morning World:




November 24, 2014

Amanuensis Monday - The Stories That Should Be Told, Part 64


The following transcription is from a series of recordings my father made in the early 1990s:
Persimmons….
Something I forgot to mention on earlier tapes when I was talking about exploring the forests and swamps around the village of Sicily Island was persimmon trees.  Every so often we would find persimmon trees in the swamp.  If anyone has ever bitten into a green persimmon, they will know what I’m talking about.  
Green Persimmons
You could bite into one of those green persimmons and it would draw your mouth up something terrible.  I don’t know what was in them but it would almost choke you.  After the first frost of the year, the persimmons would begin to ripen.  A ripened persimmon was one of the best tasting things.  
Ripened Persimmon
My mother loved persimmons.  She’d always tell me to bring her some persimmons if I came across any when I was out exploring.  I always made a special effort to find her some persimmons.
I remember one persimmon tree that was over in the swamp going towards Peniston’s and Brown’s lakes.  It was a great big ole tree.  When I got out of school I would walk over there.  It was a good ways from my house.  By the time I walked over there and made it back home it would almost be dark. 
My mother told me about the time they all went out to Grandpa and Grandma Smith’s house back in 1908 or 1909 when she was about nine years old. 
James Luther Smith
Henrietta D. Smith

James Luther and Henrietta Smith were Grandma Steele’s grandparents.  

She and her sister, Nettie, were raised by their grandparents when their mother, Jennie, died at a young age. 

The Smith family was a big family.  They would all gather at the Smith house on Sundays.  





The Smith house used to sit on some land out behind what is now the cemetery just outside town.
Smith House:  J. L. and Henrietta seated LtoR; Jennie standing

Formerly property of James Luther Smith; farmed by Grandpa Steele

Old Smith house sat at the back of this land
On this particular Sunday, some of the boys and girls had gone out to a persimmon tree that stood behind the old Smith house.  Mother said her cousin Charlie Smith was up in the tree shaking limbs to make the persimmons fall. 
Grandpa Steele
Grandpa Steele was out walking around in the fields he farmed that were right beside the Smith house.  He saw Charlie and all the other children and decided to sneak up on them. 
Once he got close he let out a scream like a wildcat. 
Charlie dropped out of that tree and led the pack of children who were running and screaming to get away from that wildcat. 
Mother said every time Grandpa Steele told that story he would laugh and laugh.




Note:  Parts 1-63 of 'The Stories That Should Be Told' can be found in the Tags List on the right-hand side of the blog.