Vera grew up with seven sisters and one brother, daughter of a cotton mill worker and a house painter. She had to leave school as a child to help take care of her younger siblings but was self taught and smart. She had wonderful childhood memories, many of which she shared with us. Most involved taking care of her younger siblings, whom she loved very much. She loved to tell the story of when my grandfather first asked her out on a date and she told him to take a hike. He eventually won her over.
People would come from miles around all hours of the day and night for her special recipe cough syrup. She raised five children on the "Mill Hill", working opposite shifts than her husband. She was a wonderful cook, and a member of South China Grove Baptist Church where she and Avery were in the choir. She knew her bible, where this poem was found:
We Called It Home
Our house was not the nicest,
just a little old shack,
we had no running water,
and a restroom way out back.
I had no separate bedroom,
like most girls have today,
but a good soft mattress,
that momma filled with hay.
I never had fine clothing,
but momma kept me clean,
and I always had good food,
that she had always seen.
Momma could make light bread,
that melted in my mouth,
and good old cornbread, too,
none better in the South.
After supper was over and Papa,
finished all his chores,
we would all play games or sing,
like we owned the whole outdoors.
Before I scrambled into bed,
I'd get down on my knees,
oh, I wouldn't take anything,
for those old memories.
Our house was just a shack,
but I didn't want to roam,
for in that old rundown shack,
we really had a home.
People would come from miles around all hours of the day and night for her special recipe cough syrup. She raised five children on the "Mill Hill", working opposite shifts than her husband. She was a wonderful cook, and a member of South China Grove Baptist Church where she and Avery were in the choir. She knew her bible, where this poem was found:
We Called It Home
Our house was not the nicest,
just a little old shack,
we had no running water,
and a restroom way out back.
I had no separate bedroom,
like most girls have today,
but a good soft mattress,
that momma filled with hay.
I never had fine clothing,
but momma kept me clean,
and I always had good food,
that she had always seen.
Momma could make light bread,
that melted in my mouth,
and good old cornbread, too,
none better in the South.
After supper was over and Papa,
finished all his chores,
we would all play games or sing,
like we owned the whole outdoors.
Before I scrambled into bed,
I'd get down on my knees,
oh, I wouldn't take anything,
for those old memories.
Our house was just a shack,
but I didn't want to roam,
for in that old rundown shack,
we really had a home.
Vera grew up with seven sisters and one brother, daughter of a cotton mill worker and a house painter. She had to leave school as a child to help take care of her younger siblings but was self taught and smart. She had wonderful childhood memories, many of which she shared with us. Most involved taking care of her younger siblings, whom she loved very much. She loved to tell the story of when my grandfather first asked her out on a date and she told him to take a hike. He eventually won her over.
People would come from miles around all hours of the day and night for her special recipe cough syrup. She raised five children on the "Mill Hill", working opposite shifts than her husband. She was a wonderful cook, and a member of South China Grove Baptist Church where she and Avery were in the choir. She knew her bible, where this poem was found:
We Called It Home
Our house was not the nicest,
just a little old shack,
we had no running water,
and a restroom way out back.
I had no separate bedroom,
like most girls have today,
but a good soft mattress,
that momma filled with hay.
I never had fine clothing,
but momma kept me clean,
and I always had good food,
that she had always seen.
Momma could make light bread,
that melted in my mouth,
and good old cornbread, too,
none better in the South.
After supper was over and Papa,
finished all his chores,
we would all play games or sing,
like we owned the whole outdoors.
Before I scrambled into bed,
I'd get down on my knees,
oh, I wouldn't take anything,
for those old memories.
Our house was just a shack,
but I didn't want to roam,
for in that old rundown shack,
we really had a home.
People would come from miles around all hours of the day and night for her special recipe cough syrup. She raised five children on the "Mill Hill", working opposite shifts than her husband. She was a wonderful cook, and a member of South China Grove Baptist Church where she and Avery were in the choir. She knew her bible, where this poem was found:
We Called It Home
Our house was not the nicest,
just a little old shack,
we had no running water,
and a restroom way out back.
I had no separate bedroom,
like most girls have today,
but a good soft mattress,
that momma filled with hay.
I never had fine clothing,
but momma kept me clean,
and I always had good food,
that she had always seen.
Momma could make light bread,
that melted in my mouth,
and good old cornbread, too,
none better in the South.
After supper was over and Papa,
finished all his chores,
we would all play games or sing,
like we owned the whole outdoors.
Before I scrambled into bed,
I'd get down on my knees,
oh, I wouldn't take anything,
for those old memories.
Our house was just a shack,
but I didn't want to roam,
for in that old rundown shack,
we really had a home.
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