"Buddy", the first born son of Lewis Brady and Thelma Burke Brady, was born just over a year after his older sister Daisy Anne. Then came four more girls, June Clara, Dannie Patricia, Verba Lee, and Sarah Elizabeth. Lawrence David, the second son, was followed by twin sisters, Sandra and Sharon. Allen Anderson was the third son, and then the last baby girl, Carol Dianne.

Buddy was pretty unlucky to have been born in the middle of five girls, and as he was the only boy at that time, when he was old enough, it was his job to help with the field work where he helped his Dad with the never-ending chores. When he was a teenager, he was helping a neighbor and his son with their hay baling to make a little spending money. He was told to stand on the back of the machine where the hay bales went through to be bound, when he slipped and fell into the baler and was cut pretty badly. It tore up his clothes, so they wrapped him in a sheet and took him to the hospital where he was treated for some pretty bad cuts. His sisters felt really bad because he got hurt so they treated him real nice for a while.

The children all rode the bus to Pintlala School, the local neighborhood school, with between ninety and a hundred students, from first through ninth grade. Buddy was quiet and well behaved and the teachers all liked him. When the teacher would ask what story the children wanted to read during reading period, Buddy always chose the "Uncle Remus" stories, with characters such as Brer Bear, Brer Fox and Brer Rabbit. He loved the story about Brer Rabbit getting the best of Brer Fox after getting in a fight with Tar Baby. Mr. Scarborough, the principal, ruled the school with a firm hand and a wooded paddle, which he used quite frequently on any boy sent to his office for misbehaving. The teachers took care of the girls with a paddle in the cloakroom when necessary. It is doubtful that Buddy ever got paddled, because if he did, he knew he'd get another one when he got home. That's just the way it was back then.

When Buddy was a boy growing up, he got quite a few whippings from his Dad. His sisters always felt sorry for him, for after all, he was their big brother, their idol, and it hurt them so much to see him get punished. There was an older neighborhood boy who was his pal, and a cousin who lived nearby, so between the three of them, they did get into some mischief which his Dad would hear about later from one of the neighbors. The other boys never seemed to get punished for their misdeeds, which Buddy's sisters thought was unfair. In later years, after their Dad's death, he and his youngest brother had become close, and he confided to him that he had never gotten a whipping that he didn't deserve. That was quite a confession for him to make, and probably true.

After graduating from Pintlala in the ninth grade, he attended Sidney Lanier High School in Montgomery, but left before he finished, joining the Navy at seventeen, along with his two cousins Bo and Sonny. It was a sad time for all the family when he left, but such a happy time when he came home to visit. When he finished his enlistment in the Navy, he did not come home for some time and the family did not hear from him and missed him so much. One day the Greyhound bus stopped in front of the house and there was Buddy, coming up the driveway. It was like the prodigal son returning home with much rejoicing.

He never left home again and went through some difficult years, but finally settled down some and went to work for Paragon Press Printing Company, later renamed Herff-Jones, where he worked his way up to supervisor of the Bindery Department. It was there, while in his mid-thirties, that he met and married his wife Virginia Elizabeth. They were married less than two years when she died in childbirth, along with their baby girl, from an undiagnosed ruptured appendix. He never got over the death of his wife and baby and went through a very difficult period for a number of years. He continued to carry her picture in the wallet that she had given him for the rest of his life. He never remarried and years later, retired from Herff-Jones after working there for thirty-two years.

He had moved back to his parent's home, but after his Dad's death following an extended illness, his mother moved to Montgomery where she lived in a nice little apartment in a retirement home. He always helped with her support and was generous in contributing when the children got together and bought her special gifts, which was usually every occasion they could think of. She loved getting gifts just as much as any child did.

Buddy had taken an interest in gardening, and had a large vegetable garden, which he enjoyed sharing with his brothers, sisters and neighbors. He also planted several varieties of fruit trees around the property and he loved to grow flowers, especially roses. He stayed to himself for the most part, rarely leaving home except to go to the grocery store or the seed store when necessary. He had two black Labs, Bobby and Abby for companionship, and was content just being in his own personal space with visits from his brothers, sisters and friends. He had come to love taking care of the grounds of the old home place and spent most of his time outside doing that. He had it looking so beautiful that anyone seeing it for the first time would think that it was a beautiful park. He kept the family cemetery, located in the middle of the property well manicured and mowed. Whenever anyone dropped by, he could usually be found outside working on some project. If he wasn't satisfied with the way something looked, he would just start over again until it looked just the way he wanted. He had built a large swing under the old oak tree by the cemetery, overlooking the garden and grounds, and sometimes enjoyed just sitting out there, having his early morning cup of coffee, for it was a serene and beautiful place.

Buddy had been diagnosed with cancer, treated and supposedly cured, but eight years later, after a bout with pneumonia, was diagnosed with lung cancer. His sisters, who had been such pests as children, rallied around him, took him for doctor's appointments, daily chemo treatments, cooked meals, and took care of his every need. His last week was spent in the hospital, where his sisters and brothers never left him alone, even for a minute, for he was so afraid of being alone. He had been diagnosed in late September and lost his battle with the dreaded disease on April 20th, which was his Dad's birthday. It was devastating for his sisters and brothers, losing their first sibling, because they had always been such a close family.

He is buried beside his beloved wife, Virginia and baby girl, in the Brady Cemetery that he had carefully tended for so many years. His two black Labs, Bobby and Abby, his long time companions, are buried beside him, just outside the cemetery fence. They have their own memorial markers with their pictures that he had made for them. The swing that he built under the oak tree is now sometimes used as a gathering place for family and friends to sit and reminisce, and just be together for a time. It is so peaceful there.

We all miss him so much.

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- PRECIOUS MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD DAYS -

Remembering the times of long ago when we were kids...the great big tree house that we built in that huge old oak tree down by Grandmama's pond... it had a long limb about two feet wide and we built a walkway on it with a rope ladder that we would let down to the ground to climb up... we found an old turtle shell about a foot wide that we used for an ash tray... we would go to the woods and get some of those vines that were porous...I think we called them "cross vines" and we would smoke them and cough like crazy... the times when all of us... brothers, sisters and cousins would gather all the corn cobs we could find and then we would choose sides and have a corn cob fight... you were the leader on one team and our cousin Sonny was leader on the other team... those things sure could sting when you got hit... the time that we moved the hay bales that Daddy had stacked in the big shed behind the barn and made a tunnel through it with a hide-out in the middle and how mad he was when he found it... the times we'd sneak out to the barn and get into Daddy's blackbery wine that he had made and stored out there in little medicine bottles... the times we would raid the watermelon patch and then try to cover our tracks so Daddy wouldn't know but somehow he always did... the time when we found a Copperhead snake under an old fallen tree in the back of the pasture near the woods... we thought we had killed it and you picked it up with a stick and threw it at us girls when we ran and hid in the corn crib... only it wasn't dead and Daddy got after you with "Old Hickory"... the time Sonny was practicing throwing his knife at the chickens and hit one in the head and killed it and when Daddy asked what happened to his chicken Sonny told him that it had just fell over and died... the times we would sneak off and go swimming or fishing in one of Uncle Frank's ponds after we had been warned not to and then we would pick the lock on the big old barn of his that was so much fun because it had a spooky narrow staircase leading up to the loft that had a window up there and all sorts of interesting things to explore... one day we really caught it when Aunt Clara Anderson saw us from across the road and told Daddy... the time we picked a big coal scuttle of figs and sold them to her... she canned them and they all spoiled because of the coal oil... we felt really bad because she was our favorite aunt who tried to help Mama look out for us... the times when Daddy hitched the old mule to the wagon and he'd let us jump in and ride down to Hatfield's store where we'd each get an "all day sucker" for a penny... the times when we and our cousins would go to the pasture at night in the summer time when it was so dark and the stars were so bright back then in the country... we would build a campfire to have a fish fry but the fish we caught were only about three inches long... we'd swipe Mama's coffee pot to make coffee and sit around the fire and tell ghost stories until we got so scared we would all run home with the big kids leaving the little kids behind... those were the "good old days" when kids knew how to have fun... we weren't really bad kids, just sort of "special"... sure miss those days of long ago... and miss you Buddy... so much...

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