I don't know where to begin about my Dad. He was a good man, even tempered and for the most part easy to get along with. He grew up in the Harmontown area of Lafayette County, Mississippi with 7 brothers and one sister. He was one of the middle children, the brother he was closest to was Hal. They shared something in common, they were not given a middle name.
His young years were spent here on the farm where his mother and his grand mother grew up, living most of their lives on the Langston Farm. I'm not sure when, but after he finished school he moved to Memphis and stayed in Aunt Lou's boarding house. I think he was working for an oil company delivering gasoline.
I don't know how long after he met my mother before he proposed marriage. I do know that they were married on December 31, 1938, just before midnight. They both moved into Aunt Lou's. His Uncle Mott Dean and his wife Bettie also lived there. They became very close to them and remained close until their deaths.
In 1941 my dad and his uncle were wittnesses at the Milk Murder Trial. They even had their pictures on the front page of the paper.
I'm not sure when he and my mom bought the house with 3 & half acres on McCain Road, where they both lived out their lives. My mother's parents came to live with them shortly after and kept things going while they were in Mobile, AL.
When WWII started my parents went to Mobile, AL to work for the government. Shortly after they came home, my dad joined the Army Air Corp. After boot camp he spent most of the 28 & a half months he served stationed in Warrington, England. He was assigned to help kept the air craft fixed and flying.
After returning in October of 1945. I'm not sure when he made up his mind to go into business for himself, but when he returned from the war he bought a truck and started hauling livestock for a living. He did very well with it.
On September 29, 1946, my parents welcomed their first child, Georgia Lynn (that would be me). My mother was almost 34 and my dad was 39. They waited another 7 years before my brother was born, Larry Alan. We lived in the country, but only about a 20 minute ride up 61 Hwy./Third St. to down town Memphis. It was a good life growing up there.
After Granny Waldrip died in 1959, I guess the thought of selling her farm to straingers was just more than he and Uncle Hal could bare. They bought the farm from their brothers & sister each taking half. The farm became my dad's hobby I guess. Every Saturday morning he drove the 62 miles and spent the day. When he retired he kept working 3 days a week for one of the commission companies at the South Memphis Stockyard on sale days.
By the time he retired in 1970 he had a trailor on the land and he would spend several days on the farm. His herd of cows would run as high a 100 in the summer months, but he would only winter about 50. "The Farm" we always referred to it was a really fun place to visit for a weekend. Daddy always put work aside when we visited. We tried to help him with the fence mending or other chores, but he said he could do that when we were at home. We fished or just took a tractor ride to go see and count the cows.
We always had a nice garden in Memphis every year. Daddy would call me and tell me to come over when we got up. He was picking peas or butter beans early and we needed to shell them. He made some crawlers out of old tires to wear when he picked so he did have to bend over. My daddy was a very creative man.
He was a good mechanic. He was always fixing something. He and my brother rebuilt the motor in a 1957 Chevy by hand. It ran really good.
When he wasn't busy with repair work, he would read. He bought 3 sets of reference books for Larry and me to use in school. I think he may have read all of them from cover to cover over the years. He used them far more than we did. He said he had to read them because we didn't and he wanted to get his moneys worth out of them.
My daddy was a very remarkable man, he even taught me how to do a single crochet when I told him I wanted to learn. Not something you learn from your father most of the time. He said he needed a saddle blanket when he was young. His grand mother helped him tear rags and sew them together. Then she showed him how to crochet them into a blanket for his horse.
He and my mother had a good life until July 2, 1986. A drug head broke into their house on McCain and beat both of them, putting them into the hospital for a week. Daddy was never the same after that. In November 1986 he had a major heart attact and died the next day at a hospital in Memphis.
I never realized that they had grown old until I saw him and my mother laying helpless in that ER at the hospital after they were beat half to death. I'll never stop missing him.
His young years were spent here on the farm where his mother and his grand mother grew up, living most of their lives on the Langston Farm. I'm not sure when, but after he finished school he moved to Memphis and stayed in Aunt Lou's boarding house. I think he was working for an oil company delivering gasoline.
I don't know how long after he met my mother before he proposed marriage. I do know that they were married on December 31, 1938, just before midnight. They both moved into Aunt Lou's. His Uncle Mott Dean and his wife Bettie also lived there. They became very close to them and remained close until their deaths.
In 1941 my dad and his uncle were wittnesses at the Milk Murder Trial. They even had their pictures on the front page of the paper.
I'm not sure when he and my mom bought the house with 3 & half acres on McCain Road, where they both lived out their lives. My mother's parents came to live with them shortly after and kept things going while they were in Mobile, AL.
When WWII started my parents went to Mobile, AL to work for the government. Shortly after they came home, my dad joined the Army Air Corp. After boot camp he spent most of the 28 & a half months he served stationed in Warrington, England. He was assigned to help kept the air craft fixed and flying.
After returning in October of 1945. I'm not sure when he made up his mind to go into business for himself, but when he returned from the war he bought a truck and started hauling livestock for a living. He did very well with it.
On September 29, 1946, my parents welcomed their first child, Georgia Lynn (that would be me). My mother was almost 34 and my dad was 39. They waited another 7 years before my brother was born, Larry Alan. We lived in the country, but only about a 20 minute ride up 61 Hwy./Third St. to down town Memphis. It was a good life growing up there.
After Granny Waldrip died in 1959, I guess the thought of selling her farm to straingers was just more than he and Uncle Hal could bare. They bought the farm from their brothers & sister each taking half. The farm became my dad's hobby I guess. Every Saturday morning he drove the 62 miles and spent the day. When he retired he kept working 3 days a week for one of the commission companies at the South Memphis Stockyard on sale days.
By the time he retired in 1970 he had a trailor on the land and he would spend several days on the farm. His herd of cows would run as high a 100 in the summer months, but he would only winter about 50. "The Farm" we always referred to it was a really fun place to visit for a weekend. Daddy always put work aside when we visited. We tried to help him with the fence mending or other chores, but he said he could do that when we were at home. We fished or just took a tractor ride to go see and count the cows.
We always had a nice garden in Memphis every year. Daddy would call me and tell me to come over when we got up. He was picking peas or butter beans early and we needed to shell them. He made some crawlers out of old tires to wear when he picked so he did have to bend over. My daddy was a very creative man.
He was a good mechanic. He was always fixing something. He and my brother rebuilt the motor in a 1957 Chevy by hand. It ran really good.
When he wasn't busy with repair work, he would read. He bought 3 sets of reference books for Larry and me to use in school. I think he may have read all of them from cover to cover over the years. He used them far more than we did. He said he had to read them because we didn't and he wanted to get his moneys worth out of them.
My daddy was a very remarkable man, he even taught me how to do a single crochet when I told him I wanted to learn. Not something you learn from your father most of the time. He said he needed a saddle blanket when he was young. His grand mother helped him tear rags and sew them together. Then she showed him how to crochet them into a blanket for his horse.
He and my mother had a good life until July 2, 1986. A drug head broke into their house on McCain and beat both of them, putting them into the hospital for a week. Daddy was never the same after that. In November 1986 he had a major heart attact and died the next day at a hospital in Memphis.
I never realized that they had grown old until I saw him and my mother laying helpless in that ER at the hospital after they were beat half to death. I'll never stop missing him.
I don't know where to begin about my Dad. He was a good man, even tempered and for the most part easy to get along with. He grew up in the Harmontown area of Lafayette County, Mississippi with 7 brothers and one sister. He was one of the middle children, the brother he was closest to was Hal. They shared something in common, they were not given a middle name.
His young years were spent here on the farm where his mother and his grand mother grew up, living most of their lives on the Langston Farm. I'm not sure when, but after he finished school he moved to Memphis and stayed in Aunt Lou's boarding house. I think he was working for an oil company delivering gasoline.
I don't know how long after he met my mother before he proposed marriage. I do know that they were married on December 31, 1938, just before midnight. They both moved into Aunt Lou's. His Uncle Mott Dean and his wife Bettie also lived there. They became very close to them and remained close until their deaths.
In 1941 my dad and his uncle were wittnesses at the Milk Murder Trial. They even had their pictures on the front page of the paper.
I'm not sure when he and my mom bought the house with 3 & half acres on McCain Road, where they both lived out their lives. My mother's parents came to live with them shortly after and kept things going while they were in Mobile, AL.
When WWII started my parents went to Mobile, AL to work for the government. Shortly after they came home, my dad joined the Army Air Corp. After boot camp he spent most of the 28 & a half months he served stationed in Warrington, England. He was assigned to help kept the air craft fixed and flying.
After returning in October of 1945. I'm not sure when he made up his mind to go into business for himself, but when he returned from the war he bought a truck and started hauling livestock for a living. He did very well with it.
On September 29, 1946, my parents welcomed their first child, Georgia Lynn (that would be me). My mother was almost 34 and my dad was 39. They waited another 7 years before my brother was born, Larry Alan. We lived in the country, but only about a 20 minute ride up 61 Hwy./Third St. to down town Memphis. It was a good life growing up there.
After Granny Waldrip died in 1959, I guess the thought of selling her farm to straingers was just more than he and Uncle Hal could bare. They bought the farm from their brothers & sister each taking half. The farm became my dad's hobby I guess. Every Saturday morning he drove the 62 miles and spent the day. When he retired he kept working 3 days a week for one of the commission companies at the South Memphis Stockyard on sale days.
By the time he retired in 1970 he had a trailor on the land and he would spend several days on the farm. His herd of cows would run as high a 100 in the summer months, but he would only winter about 50. "The Farm" we always referred to it was a really fun place to visit for a weekend. Daddy always put work aside when we visited. We tried to help him with the fence mending or other chores, but he said he could do that when we were at home. We fished or just took a tractor ride to go see and count the cows.
We always had a nice garden in Memphis every year. Daddy would call me and tell me to come over when we got up. He was picking peas or butter beans early and we needed to shell them. He made some crawlers out of old tires to wear when he picked so he did have to bend over. My daddy was a very creative man.
He was a good mechanic. He was always fixing something. He and my brother rebuilt the motor in a 1957 Chevy by hand. It ran really good.
When he wasn't busy with repair work, he would read. He bought 3 sets of reference books for Larry and me to use in school. I think he may have read all of them from cover to cover over the years. He used them far more than we did. He said he had to read them because we didn't and he wanted to get his moneys worth out of them.
My daddy was a very remarkable man, he even taught me how to do a single crochet when I told him I wanted to learn. Not something you learn from your father most of the time. He said he needed a saddle blanket when he was young. His grand mother helped him tear rags and sew them together. Then she showed him how to crochet them into a blanket for his horse.
He and my mother had a good life until July 2, 1986. A drug head broke into their house on McCain and beat both of them, putting them into the hospital for a week. Daddy was never the same after that. In November 1986 he had a major heart attact and died the next day at a hospital in Memphis.
I never realized that they had grown old until I saw him and my mother laying helpless in that ER at the hospital after they were beat half to death. I'll never stop missing him.
His young years were spent here on the farm where his mother and his grand mother grew up, living most of their lives on the Langston Farm. I'm not sure when, but after he finished school he moved to Memphis and stayed in Aunt Lou's boarding house. I think he was working for an oil company delivering gasoline.
I don't know how long after he met my mother before he proposed marriage. I do know that they were married on December 31, 1938, just before midnight. They both moved into Aunt Lou's. His Uncle Mott Dean and his wife Bettie also lived there. They became very close to them and remained close until their deaths.
In 1941 my dad and his uncle were wittnesses at the Milk Murder Trial. They even had their pictures on the front page of the paper.
I'm not sure when he and my mom bought the house with 3 & half acres on McCain Road, where they both lived out their lives. My mother's parents came to live with them shortly after and kept things going while they were in Mobile, AL.
When WWII started my parents went to Mobile, AL to work for the government. Shortly after they came home, my dad joined the Army Air Corp. After boot camp he spent most of the 28 & a half months he served stationed in Warrington, England. He was assigned to help kept the air craft fixed and flying.
After returning in October of 1945. I'm not sure when he made up his mind to go into business for himself, but when he returned from the war he bought a truck and started hauling livestock for a living. He did very well with it.
On September 29, 1946, my parents welcomed their first child, Georgia Lynn (that would be me). My mother was almost 34 and my dad was 39. They waited another 7 years before my brother was born, Larry Alan. We lived in the country, but only about a 20 minute ride up 61 Hwy./Third St. to down town Memphis. It was a good life growing up there.
After Granny Waldrip died in 1959, I guess the thought of selling her farm to straingers was just more than he and Uncle Hal could bare. They bought the farm from their brothers & sister each taking half. The farm became my dad's hobby I guess. Every Saturday morning he drove the 62 miles and spent the day. When he retired he kept working 3 days a week for one of the commission companies at the South Memphis Stockyard on sale days.
By the time he retired in 1970 he had a trailor on the land and he would spend several days on the farm. His herd of cows would run as high a 100 in the summer months, but he would only winter about 50. "The Farm" we always referred to it was a really fun place to visit for a weekend. Daddy always put work aside when we visited. We tried to help him with the fence mending or other chores, but he said he could do that when we were at home. We fished or just took a tractor ride to go see and count the cows.
We always had a nice garden in Memphis every year. Daddy would call me and tell me to come over when we got up. He was picking peas or butter beans early and we needed to shell them. He made some crawlers out of old tires to wear when he picked so he did have to bend over. My daddy was a very creative man.
He was a good mechanic. He was always fixing something. He and my brother rebuilt the motor in a 1957 Chevy by hand. It ran really good.
When he wasn't busy with repair work, he would read. He bought 3 sets of reference books for Larry and me to use in school. I think he may have read all of them from cover to cover over the years. He used them far more than we did. He said he had to read them because we didn't and he wanted to get his moneys worth out of them.
My daddy was a very remarkable man, he even taught me how to do a single crochet when I told him I wanted to learn. Not something you learn from your father most of the time. He said he needed a saddle blanket when he was young. His grand mother helped him tear rags and sew them together. Then she showed him how to crochet them into a blanket for his horse.
He and my mother had a good life until July 2, 1986. A drug head broke into their house on McCain and beat both of them, putting them into the hospital for a week. Daddy was never the same after that. In November 1986 he had a major heart attact and died the next day at a hospital in Memphis.
I never realized that they had grown old until I saw him and my mother laying helpless in that ER at the hospital after they were beat half to death. I'll never stop missing him.
Family Members
Sponsored by Ancestry
Advertisement
Explore more
Sponsored by Ancestry
Advertisement
