Wed. 9:35 AM
My Precious Dinah and Minister Danny and Precious little one:

Sometimes we get so busy in the hurry time we live in we forget to tell those we see, and especially those we love so dearly how much we love them. Dinah, you are one in a million. I don't know how we were ever so lucky and so very humbly blessed to have you as our own. I think of my Dad and how his daughter-in-law told my brother Leon to get that old man Harve Wade in brother Leon’s car and get him away from her house—he was not going to stay the night in her house. My brother like a fool, or maybe the best he could do and keep the home together got my aged father in that fine car and carried him to my brother Truman or Cousin Odell Wade, and they treated him with royalty. After all we are an heir of the King. Heir of the Father, joint heir to the Son, our blessed Savior. The most wonderful promise in the Bible is Rev. 22:4 "We shall see his face." He carried that old cross as far as he could carry it, Jesus being a man, his strength failed him, after loosing sleep, being slashed upon his stomach, and the crown. But the God Jesus, the blessed Jesus a few minutes later told the thief on the cross THIS DAY THOU WILL BE WITH ME IN PARADISE. Leads me to think precious Dinah that your Mom is in the presence of our LORD RIGHT NOW. Dinah I see and I always know the kindness that you do and also do without that you can give to others and to us. Love is something we give of value to me, and might not be in all cases a value to another. But we give because we love.

Danny YOU are a child given of the Holy Spirit. Doctor Childress told your mother she could never have a child. Your mother can tell you this to be true. I was there. You are a minister of the gospel. I am so proud of you that I could bust my gut as the old saying goes. There seems to be plenty of preachers up there in front. But the Lord said as he was leaving this world GO MIND you not to succeed necessarily but to go and spread the message. I often think of the Mother-in-law of Brother Simon Peter. She was dead and Jesus raised her to life. She got up and the scripture said that she MINISTERED UNTO THEM. I think she fixed drinks and a good super for Jesus and the Disciples. There is a great need for a ministry as we go. Danny, you are an outstanding example as a minister for our blessed Lord Jesus.

If the Lord gives me strength I am going to write a letter to each of my precious children. I might even save each and make copies of each, sending a copy of each letter to each of you in one set.

I have no premonition of dying but if I do, let it be known to all that all is well with my soul. I have never told this to a person in my life and with tear-filled eyes and eyes closed I type this in reverence, opening my eyes only to see to reset the carriage, because the bell on the model-T don't work properly. I have never told this one time in my life, the Lord as my witness. It was so sacred that I could not tell it. This day and time a person says I was saved. It's so meaningless and so empty. And most think of it so carelessly and never take the greatness of it. As Moses said, I am standing on Holy Ground when he saw the burning bush in the desert. He had been out on the burning desert 40 years getting educated by the Lord to lead the children out of the land of Egypt. At 40 he said here I am ready to lead the children out of bondage.

Then when Moses was to the place of nothing in his own sight, he was something in God's sight. Maybe after 52 years making mistakes and blunders and this and that this month or next month 52 years ago.

52 years ago my Dad, a sainted Deacon in the Baptist Church, had lost all the previous year, had no food in the house that spring. Had not the time to take off in the old-time wagon and our old Pete and Tobe mules to go several miles to Pritchett Baptist Church and attend the revival. Now we think of car miles, but then it was wagon miles, hot in the summer after the crops was layed by. In 1933 at Concord Baptist Church I was under deep conviction when Brother Bud Petty held the revival. He had the most persuasive voice I ever heard. Then they had the old-time mourner's bench. I was a skinny, very red-haired and a lot of freckles. Children called me at school (we moved almost every year because of old poor dirt and we were farmers. Dad was far ahead in his day. He was a soil conservationist. I can carry you and show you terraces he ran and made with his own invented terracing machine and own plow and V-type implement to make these terraces. He plowed with 2 mules and 4 plows, plowing the row and middle as he went up a row.

I left my conversion because of a call, sorry. Back to the Pritchett Baptist Church, summer 1934. I was under deep conviction. Dad and Brother Vermillion were good friends. This old saint told me scripture early in the week in St. John. This day I could not stand it another minute. They called, even begged, for mourners to go to the mourner’s bench. I was so timid I would not go to the mourner’s bench and let the dear old saints pray for me. I seemed I would die and as I untied the wagon tongue for Tobe and Pete, Dad and again Bro. Vermillion rode in the wagon on the spring seat. Some reason I guess Mom was washing and Sister was helping wash that day. I was alone on the old plank across the old-time wagon, sitting there looking like I would die. Sitting alone but there was one riding beside me. I was not schooled in all the modern ways of this day and time. I just sat there in silence. Mind you, not one person came to me. My dad was educated in what his son needed. Because he knew I was timid he did not come and pull me into the mourner’s bench earlier. He could not afford to do this. But my Dad knew the need of my heart and carried his family to this revival from the Youngblood Place up hills, sand, hot, no food just a few weeks earlier, lost all we had the year before because of a flood. Down to the bottom of the earth as far as money concerned. But God has riches no one can ever know about. Dad spoke to the mules, pulled the lines, pulled out of the church yard, leaving the church a few feet. I know where the place is within a few feet or maybe a few inches. God being my witness I have never told this, because it was so HOLY AND THIS DAY THINGS ARE SO SHALLOW. As the old wagon moved along about 1:00 pm in that little hill old Tobe and Pete pulling the wagon, Dad and the old saint sitting in front I cried out sitting there on my plank alter, if you please. I cried out, I have never one time doubted this. I failed many times. But God never failed one time. I remember so freshly as tho' just this very moment one tear fell to the floor of that old wagon floor from my eyes. No weeping, no crying, no jumping the benches, no emotion. Not telling a soul. But the greatest gift anyone on earth ever received in this entire. life. I received ETERNAL LIFE. Across the ocean, across those United States a number of times, but the EXPERIENCE TODAY is up to date. Mistakes Yes. But I serve one that makes no mistakes.

In Romans 8 Chapter says HIS SPIRIT BEARS WITNESS WITH MY SPIRIT, and a witness that that is true and may this reality of eternal life fall on each of my precious children.

Never do doubt, never to make the mistakes I have made but always hold on to the one that is above all. AS MY GRANDFATHER WHITFIELD WADE SAID AS HE WAS DYING "THERE IS REALTY IN SALVATION" (NOT RELIGION). THIS I SIGN with my OWN SIGNATURE THIS DAY.

10-July-1985
Ellis Whitfield Wade
My Precious Ronald:

The Lord is so real in our lives, and may this same Lord and Master always rule and have complete control of our lives. Isn't that awful we have been with you so little and still love you so dearly. We see in you a fine gentle person. A fine person to stay stable and be as it were the breadwinner in the time of famine in a sense of words. You are so fine and so brave not to say words unkindly in the time of stress. May this spirit of meekness and kindness always be the spirit of each of us Wade Chulins.

Ronald, you our precious first born. We did for you. Maybe better than for Danny. I can still see him riding his little chain-driven tractor round and round and round here in the shop. Having to lean over to keep from falling as he traveled so fast. Ronald I shall never forget the words of Granny Cox that owned the 2 Cox Theaters here. She said you will never live until your first baby is born. And how true. One time at Mt. Clements, Michigan we had arranged for a motel for the night. This just a very short space from Detroit. When the proprietor walked around our 1951 Dodge car and saw the baby, YOU of course, after saying we had a motel, said we have no vacancy. This we were sorta concerned. But just up the street a short ways a hotel had fine place for us. No problems. I carried you a small babe in arms under the Niagara Falls. All these years scared me to think what if. But you rest assured that I stood way way back with my precious priceless baby. I walked 3 hours and carried you through the LeRay Caverns and you of course remember that since you were a babe in arms. You and I went down and under the Natural Bridge in Virginia. So MANY HAPPY DAYS. I guess I say with tear-filled eyes I failed our other precious babies to a great extent, because I seemed always not to be able to do as a dad should have done. I often think of little ORPHANT JOY, had no daddy in a large sense of the words. I have wept many times about this. Surely I failed my precious children along the way. But one thing for sure The Lord never fails us. Our earthly father may fail, but the HEAVENLY FATHER ALWAYS CARES AND CARES FOR US.

Only Yesterday, I was laying resting on my bed, with tear-filled eyes. I usually do not answer or pick up the receiver as I rest. But I answered. You were telling Mother and I that you had received this fine job. This is an answer to prayer. Oh, so many things come to us a close-knit family, because of the Lord sending an answer to that prayer. The Lord is so close and so dear to me these days.

Since I did give Danny an account of how I was saved, in 1934 at Pritchett Baptist Church, and never a doubt of this being saved, maybe we can give each of you a copy of each letter. Also since each compliment of any member of the family is the same compliment to the other member of the Wade family.

So many things we thank you and the Lord for.

As I told Danny, or tell you YOU ARE SPECIAL. The Lord sent you for a purpose. The Lord has his hand on you. It does not matter that we fill or do not fill a pulpit. The Lord has a ministry for each of us. The command of the Bible is to go. Not to necessarily succeed.

The day before you called us and told us of your fine job with this company, I told your Mother "I have confidence in Ronald."

If it comes to it and if a catering truck is in the making. I guess what this is all about. Maybe Dayton mentioned that you might look this way. But God knows best. Back to what I told your Mother: "I have confidence in Ronald and I might not have the money. But MY name stands for something. I can Sign the note at the bank and we can get the money for a catering truck if this is the way."

The Wade name stands for honesty. Let our precious children wear this name proudly. Only Saturday last week my Brother Truman carried me to ride the riverboat where Grandfather Whitfield Wade, and Great Grandfather Joseph rode this river on a steamboat when Jefferson was a city of 40,000 people, and a river the most navigated in the south with a great shipping port and a river a mile wide. My forefathers were upright men, may we wear this name proudly.

Speaking of four fathers, think of it—fathers are wiser than mothers because we have 4 and only 1 mother, and 4 over rules one.

Ronald we have seen the impossible come to pass many endless times, no credit to Mom and Dad, but the HEAVENLY FATHER SUPPLIES ALL OF OUR NEEDS ACCORDING TO HIS RICHES IN GLORY. All we need is in his hand and as the scripture says we ask ANYTHING ACCORDING TO HIS WILL, he heareth our prayer and ANSWERS it.

ENDLESS times I have wished to be a better, a wiser father, but in spite of any mistake the earthly father makes, rest assured that THE HEAVENLY FATHER NEVER MAKES A MISTAKE. We are so grateful that the Lord permitted you to belong to us and be our own. As I would like to tell each of my children. IF I WERE NO KIN AT ALL TO YOU. I WOULD FEEL IT AN HONOR JUST TO KNOW A PERSON LIKE YOU.

May the reality of Grandfather Whitfield Wade deathbed words always be a reality to each of us. THERE IS REALITY IN SALVATION. AS HE WITH ALL HIS MIGHT REACHED UPWARD AS HE WENT TO MEET THE LORD, TRIED WITH ALL HIS MIGHT TO CLAP HIS HANDS IN HONOR TO GOD.

As I visited my own father minutes before he left this world, could not speak because this tube in throat had dried all his voice glands. MY DAD WITH ALL HIS MIGHT RAISED HIMSELF UPWARD ON HIS DEATH BED TO LET ME KNOW THAT HE KNEW THAT I WAS THERE. May we always realize the presence of our HEAVENLY FATHER, and KNOW that with all his might giving his precious son to die for you and me, always be real, reality in your life and mine. May the Mantel of HARVE WADE FALL ON ME. And maybe some little thing along the way I have done as a dad be meaningful to you. Jesus died that you and I can live this life being for ever, never to end. A 1,000 years with the Lord is as one day with us and when we get there we will be like Him.

June 17, 1986

We have such pleasing memories of so many nice things that happen along this life and the way we walk. I well remember back in 1932 in the spring while living on the Pounds Farm, Dad and I went fishing up the creek. That is Cypress Creek. Up past the old cutoff up toward Butler Spratt Farm and past what dad called the 14 acres block.

We were fishing way up the creek and Dad was sitting on a footlog that led all the way across to the other side of the creek. He with his fishing pole out on this log, ever so busy fishing. I was about 12 years old. Why the fish always better on the other side of the creek, only a good fisherman knows this question. But little Ellis (My Uncle Ellis was always Big Ellis) decided to cross dad's log with fishing pole and can of worms and all to go on other side of the creek. I passed in front of my dad. In my crossing somehow I tilted Dad backward into this deep large hole of water, backward mind you, head hitting the water first, really taking a dive without wishing to do so. Back in that day and time any kid would have been whipped for such a stunt. BUT MY DAD knew I did not do this on purpose. He got out of that water, did not say a word of rebuke, or fuss in any kind of a way, but went right back to fishing as tho’ nothing had happened. Wet clothes and all, not complaining a word. I often think of the mistakes I have made, and maybe if half patterned more after my Dad I could have done better many times. So many times I look back and say surely I could have done better than that on many things I would mess up and do wrong.

So many nice things come into our lives. When I think of our own sweet little girl Joy, the Joy of our lives. Always so gentle and kind. So many things she would do and say as a small child that still linger with me. I am so sorry that I was so burdened with making a living and problems with health while she was a small child. Seems that she maybe neglected the most.

I am typing in the shop. A few inches from me is a post that my sweet girl upholstered with material, I feel sure in my mind that she was the one that did this. She would often take a tack hammer and tack things to this post near where I have my TV and typewriter. I can still see her sitting as a small child, or kneeling there tacing with tacks on that post, being a big upholstering job and having fun, and I was having fun just for her to be out here and be near me.

Then I think of Danny with his little tractor that had a chain drive similar to a bicycle going round and round so fast looked as if he would fall off each time he would come around so fast, still the next trip on the back north concrete was his race track, round and round and round. I enjoyed him in the shop. Sometime I would miss him in the shop and things would get quiet. I would go listen round the shop and in a minute I would hear his little feet up on top of the shop walking on top of the shop. As a small boy he would seem to enjoy climbing to the very top highest gable, and looking all round. What a brave little one was he. OH what pleasing memories I have of so many many sweet things of my sweet children.

Then Ronald would sit day after day peaceable with his building blocks and make castles and all kinds of things of beauty. I resented the blocks being carried to Langford house up next door for brats to scatter and have no respect for. Ronald was so kind, sweet, as was each of our children.

We never seemed to have much trouble at our house. All seemed to run sweet. IN fact all these years I wondered in my mind HOW WERE WE SO LUCKY AS TO HAVE SUCH PEACEABLE CHILDREN, and so sweet! What a wonderful collection of memories I do hold so reverently of my sweet children. ALWAYS THANKING GOD FOR THEM ALWAYS IN SINCERITY.

Prayer of Ellis Wade
10-1-1980

May the Lord give me tears,
That I may weep with the dying.
May the Lord give me some more years,
That I may do this in joy and not defying.

May the Lord give me a care
That I may share with the living.
That I may present the presence of the Savior,
His closeness, nearness and serenity.

May the Lord give me wisdom,
That I may say the correct words.
For (to) those in great grief.
To those that can never accept defeat.

May I ever present His endless love
With new eagerness, endless zeal.
Asking for constant strength from above,
Humbling myself always to his will in my life.

November 8, 1985
WHEN I GOT SAVED:

Trying to word this again. For concern that the words in previous letter were unclear. We were attending Glade Creek Baptist Church in the Mings Chapel Community. Brother Arrington was our pastor. Dad took time off to attend a revival at Pritchett Baptist Church, about six miles west. We went the back straight road up and down steep hills and the short cut. This road most likely closed for endless years now, seeing that many of the old country roads are closed now because of the moving and shifting of the families on these roads.

We were attending the revival that summer, I have no idea who the preacher was. How would I after more than 50 years know his name. Back then the churches had the old-time mourner's bench. The preacher that day, mid-day service in the middle of the week, possibly near the first of the week. Since Sister and Mother was home washing and only Dad and I went that day in the old-time wagon. The preacher pleaded for those to come to the mourner’s bench. I was the tallest, skinniest, most freckled, red-haired kid and that day children made fun of the kid like me. I always got it at every school. My sweet wife saw my former teacher, Mrs. Valorie Cox, in Gilmer just lately and telling my wife that I was the most timid child she ever knew and did not know how I could have a nursing home ministry.

I knew I should go down to the mourner's bench, because the Lord had dealt with my heart a whole year since Brother Bud Petty and Concord Baptist Church the year earlier in a revival there. I knew I should go down. I was too timid, I just could not do it. Even though my whole being was crying out to the Lord above. The noon service was dismissed and Dad and Brother Vermillion got on the spring seat of the old wagon. I untied the two mules, Pete and Tobe, from the shade tree and the wagon tongue tied to the tree. Dad back the mules up with the wagon and started moving out of the church yard. I thought I would die. There I was leaving the Lord there in that building is all I could think in my bashful child mind of 14 years. Dad pulled the team and wagon out into the road that travelled eastward toward our house 6 miles away. These were wagon miles being hot and very hard miles. That did not matter. I was sitting on the old plank that was across the bed of the wagon, that was behind the spring seat. One being a flat board with an old quilt spread for a cover. I sat there, head bowed, crying out to the Lord, not trained and skilled and taught in all the things as people that went to church in later years. I thought my heart would burst. ONE TEAR DROPPED FROM MY EYES. ONE TEAR HIT THE FLOOR OF THE OLD WAGON FLOOR. I CAN SEE IT NOW. AS THO' JUST NOW. MIND YOU ONE TEAR DROP HIT THE FLOOR OF THE OLD WAGON. And one hungry empty bashful boy that could not go to the altar a few minutes before received a CALMNESS. No shouting. No big words to telling a person, but I knew at that moment that it was all well with my soul. I probably can never explain the simplicity that I would like to explain it. But for over 50 years I have never doubted this. People will miss the point of this because all these years I said at Pritchett Church I was saved. But for 50 years I never could tell the exact word for word how it all took place. Seemed that it was too holy to tell, maybe if I told it it would lessen in value.

And people this day and time, yah yah, I I know a possum jumped up, or I got saved. But it does matter, because this is life and life eternal. I have failed the Lord in many years, in many ways, but the Lord is just as real and even more precious now than in those 50 years ago.

Friday, Nov. 8, 1985

This being the birthday of my sweet cousin Herman Sanders. The same age of me, except 2 days on. We were such good friends. I always said I never knew a family that was more poor than we were unless it was the Herman Sander’s Family. Cousin Esley worked hard, but times were hard and he had a large family and the Gilmer Lumber company paid starvation wages. His family starving while P.K. Williams family living like millionaires, which they were in later years. But it did not make it right to make the Sanders family suffer so severely.

My 66th birthday the 6th. My supper was on the 7th. More nice gifts than I ever deserve. Among my nice gifts was a special book made up by Ronald and Cathy of Uncle Walt Cumbie. They copied page by page his little book and put it in a beautiful hard-back book for me. In his book he pictures all as being peaches and cream on every side.

This was not the case in our house. We were the poorest of poor. Old farm, rent family, drifting each year of my life after the age of 7 or 8. Old land was poor. Farms that was worth anything was being farmed by the owner or by his uncle or family. Each acre, each inch of land that could be cleared of timber and put into cotton was used as such. Cotton being the only means of a penny anyplace at all. I often heard my Dad say when he was growing up only a saw mill or a railroad job away from the farm. And anyway you went it was hard long difficult hours.

I mentioned this before, Dad got off to a fine start. Grandpaw Wade gave Aunt Maggie, Uncle Joe a part of the large Wade farm at Rosewood. Dad worked for Mr. Henry Music and soon bought out Uncle Joe and Aunt Maggie. A fine farm of 40 acres, soon with a house and living water and all. Old man L.A. Latch, often called Dad Latch, told Dad to sell his farm at Rosewood and move to Latch and he would deed him 80 acres free and clear land on road from Latch to Pritchett. Top of Harve Wade Hill. Could have been a good place but in the meantime my Dad's wife, Mrs. Ola Latch Wade, was very ill and in time died with cancer. Dad told of how he would literally run to the house from the cotton field to care for his sick wife and literally run back to try to work a little that day. And they had a son named Leon. The grandson of old DEVIL Latch. Mrs. Ola was one of the best women that ever lived. Cecil Harris, a man of character and a Christian, told me with tear-filled eyes a few feet from the grave of My Mother the day that she was buried, "I knew both women and they were both the best women on earth." But Mrs. Ola was very sick. The Latch family would send for Dr. Childress many times 3 times a day, without the consent of My Dad. My Dad doing all in the world he could do for his precious wife. Running up a Doctor bill of $1,700 that would be impossible for anyone to pay. But during the sickness of Mrs. Ola, The Latch family made the 80 acre farm to Mrs. Ola and her Heirs. Dad not willing to have his family in constant hell moved away and left it to Leon when he was 7 or 8 years old. Many times Leon would get 80 or maybe 100 dollars for oil or timber. Later years I heard him say he got $3,000 for timber all one time. Untold value from the land that rightfully should have been part of my family’s inheritance.

I heard with my own ears Cousin Liston Knight tell me in later years how Joe Latch, son of Old man Latch, met my dad on the Upshur County Courthouse steps, screaming and saying to my Dad "You are going to give Leon what he owns."

Dad willed it all except 40 acres of oil royalty free and clear to Leon. A lot of years Leon not visiting my Dad for many years, being here by his house on Highway 271 right by here, being here a week or 10 days. It would come out in the paper that he was here, never seeing my Dad. Was the poison that old Latch’s planted the hate in his mind? But praise the Lord in the last visit or two my brother Leon told me that he believed and accepted the teaching of Apostle Paul "leaving those things behind and pressing toward the mark of high calling of God." But so sad my brother never knew what it was to have the love of a father that would have given his life at any time for him. My brother never knew the dear old Saint of the Lord that held the banner high and held on to the Lord regardless of the difficulties of life. Again how sad it was when my big brother that I never did know lay a corpse at Lake Jackson near Freeport, below Houston. I carried my Dad in my car to Houston, my brother in turn carried us that night to Lake Jackson to see Leon. How sad—Dad scarcely shed a tear. It seemed that his day of weeping had already passed. In the Bible, Bethsheba and David had a baby out of wedlock, the baby lay dying. King David neither ate or drank for 7 days or 7 nights, neither bathed or anything for his body. After the death of the baby that he pleaded so earnestly for died, the old Psalmist arose, washed his body, ate food and drank water. Others wondered why. His days of tears were already gone and passed. So was it so sad My Brother lived alone and died alone. His wife gave a bundle of his pictures I still have in my house now. Apparently even his own family was distant. How sad.

This same time my Mother was getting in very bad condition of health. Leon had destroyed her life. In early years Dad had taken Leon's part on every hand destroying my Mother's life to a large degree. Apparently she had hated brother Leon. But in late year, very near the death of my sweet mother, she wrote a letter to Aunt Ruby that had treated her worse than any dog, a letter to Leon that had treated my Mother with no respect because my Dad made the mistake in early years, not demanding that Leon, a spoiled brat, to respect his stepmother, Dad being wrong. But in late years Mother wrote to them asking for forgiveness even tho’ they were the ones in the wrong. She wanted this matter cleared up between her and the Lord, not wanting to meet the Lord with anything wrong. My mother was a saint. The Bible says the last shall be first and I have always thought that she will be first far beyond me.

I can still hear my mother saying while living at Latch, "Daddy, this land is so poor we are going to have to move away from here" and we did move. We lived then on Uncle Joe Wade's Place at Sand Hill. Uncle Joe had 3 larger boys, Odell, Arthur and J.T. older and Tullis younger, but the older ones would plow, work the fields. Work the best land. Dad worked the fence corners. We needed a peach to eat as children. Aunt Bettie poured large pails of fine peaches to their fine heard of hogs. Bushels and bushels of peaches went to the hogs each day but not one peach did we ever get. They milked a large number of cows, probably ten. They had a milk separator that separated the cream from the skimmed milk. They poured this over by the barrel to the hogs. US kids would have liked the old skimmed milk. We had one cow, Old Jersey, but certain times she was dry. And never enough milk.

Dad and Mother never had milk unless Old Jersey had a calf older and gave milk, but so poor soon had to sell that one for a few pennies or to give to the bank a few pennies.

People need not tell me how grand it was. Things was bad. We lived in an old house, rent house, that wasn't fit for a barn.

How well I remember a terrible storm that blowed in one main door with Dad and all of us trying in all the ways we could to keep the door up. The old house was cold. Tullis stayed the night with me in the shed room on the south side of the house. Sister Lanell, a small child, was to be watching baby Truman in the rocking chair in front of the cold open fireplace. Mother in back shed room cooking with green smoking wood, not burning worth a thing, hard to make old green wood burn, had to go get breakfast. Sis supposed to watch the baby. Truman worked out of the tie in rocking chair and falling with his back of his head on a live coal of the fire on the hearth. Everyone thought he baby would die.

Dear Uncle Joe had a fine car sitting in the garage, nice and clean. A nice self-player piano in he parlor, a whole pin of fine hogs, a cow-pen full of fine cows, a fine bottom land farm with probably 125 acres of prime land in Gum Creek bottom. But Uncle Joe was working in the field and could not carry Mother and Dad and baby to Gilmer to see the doctor. Mr. Grover Hill carried them. Only by the mercy of the Lord is my sweet fine brother Truman alive. In later years the scar he had had to be removed by a surgeon correcting this terrible thing that gnawed at him all day every day. Don't tell me all was roses and cream in the good old days, it was hard and got harder.