pages 46,47,48.

One Sunday afternoon, just before we moved from the old parsonage, two men, one elderly looking and the other young and quite nice looking, came walking through the yard to the back door. Papa stepped out, they were looking for real estate to buy. Papa invited them in and they talked for some time in the parlor. Finally the older man thought he should be starting back to the city by catching the four o’clock trolley. The young fellow remained behind, had supper with us and accompanied the family to church. He preference seemed to be my sister, Wilhelmina. He came often and wrote often. This lasted for some years. He wanted to buy a chicken ranch and settle down and he made all his plans and wishes known. But my sister was young and wasn’t just ready to settle down. Then too, we were having too much fun at the beach with my father boss of the work. Our friends and we got to ride on all the amusements as they were built and finished. This was without pay and at anytime.
We had a large home and plenty of room for company. Most generally we had girl friends staying over night or a day or two.
Mama used to have a woman pick up the laundry to wash and iron it. She also came when mama needed her to work in the home. Sometimes I had to get the washed and ironed clothes. This happened one snowy, wintery evening. After school I hitched the horse to the buggy and drove about a half mile to her place. She had several children and her husband chopped wood and did odd jobs for a living. As I stepped into the log cabin a bright fire was burning in the fireplace. A kettle was hanging on an andiron over the pine log fire. The little children were sitting around eating hot, light bread with butter and jelly on it. Poor colored folks as they were they kept a cow and chickens and had a few acres to raise a garden and feed. She was a good, kind woman. As I sat down to wait while she finished ironing a few pieces to be put in the basket, she looked over at me and said “I’ll bet you are hungry.” I had to say yes for the smell of the bread was tantalizing. So she put her old fashioned iron down, the kind you heat by setting it on top of a stove. One usually had three or four so they would be heating while she was ironing with one. Finally she came from the small kitchen with a large slice of bread right off the heel of the loaf just oozing with butter and wild blackberry jelly. Did it look good and did it ever taste good: I think I can remember the taste of it to this day. There’s just something about a hand out like that to a child, especially a hungry one, no matter how good your mother’s cooking is, it just seems to leave a lasting memory through childhood and as the years go by. Her name was Lily White. She was anything but white but her good soul made up for the color.
Mother gave a party right after we moved into our new home. It was for we girls, the young folks of the neighborhood and church. It was Lily who came to help mama prepare for the big party. My brother and his wife had moved in with us at the time while their home was being built. My sister-in-law was very good in helping my mother make good things for the party. It was such a nice party and lots of fun. Some played games, some pulled taffy and some sat on the porch or strolled in the moonlight.
The following Sunday at church I jumped out to tie the horses while some young men assisted my sisters from the carriage. I turned and there was a young boy some older than I, for some reason he didn’t look like a native. “May I assist in tying your horse.” he said. “I have them tied now,” I replied and started for the church. “Wait!” he said. “I want to tell you who I am. I have been watching you ride by on your horse and I have been wanting to meet you.” Thus I met Frank, (His last name doesn’t count here.) he said he was from New York and was spending his summer vacation just across the road from us. His siser had married the oldest son. I hurried on into my Sunday School class to try to prevent him from sitting beside me but I failed. Did Maggie ever torment and tease me when church was out! He asked if he might ride home with us. Said he could go with the folks he stayed with but would rather ride with us. So, I consented. He told me of their beautiful home in New York, his mother, sister, brother and a lot about his father. He said he was the youngest. His folks wanted him to come so that he would be close to the beach. “But, to tell the truth,” he said, “I hardly ever go to the beach.”
A few days later the family he was living with gave a party. One of their daughters who had been away to college and had been working was home for a vacation. That evening my sisters’ two boyfriends came, and up the walk came Frank, too. He didn’t stop where we were he went out where my parents were and asked them if he might take me to the party. My parents said, “Yes, but she’s not really old enough to go with or have boyfriends, but since her sisters are going she can go along with you.”
We six walked the short distance and talked of various things. It was a lovely, pleasant evening. The party was very nice and the time passed rather rapidly and soon we were retracing our steps. I remember in part the conversation. I said, “I like tall boys, I think they look nice.” then I went on to say, “You are almost two years older than I and I am almost as tall as you.” He looked a bit hurt then came back with, “you should see my brother, and you know,” with a cheerful grin, “I haven’t stopped growing yet.”
Not long after that the young people of the church got up a moonlight hayride. The driver of the wagon and his wife were our chaperones. We really had a wonderful time. We sang pretty church hymns all the way and back. The driver took us through the village of Lynnhaven and down a country road to where a colored church was having a revival meeting. We stopped for a while to watch them sing and shout. Finally they quit and the minister started to preach. We all raise our voice to sing a beautiful hymn. The old minister Quavered his voice and said, “brothers and sisters can you hear that?” as we drove away.
And soon each one was being let off at his home. When it came our turn, Frank jumped out ahead of me and took my hand to help me down and held on to it as I started for the house. Then finally he whispered, “couldn’t I have one little kiss?” I pulled my hand away and said, “no! I am not old enough to go with boys anyway.” As I started faster toward the house I heard him say, “you are a fine little girl. You are different than the New York girls.”
The young people use to gather at our house for a song fest and to practice hymns to sing in the choir. Our old Chickern piano stood in the reception hall and our new upright, which was the style then, was in the north side of the double parlor. There was an arch overhead that divided the two parlors. We really had some good times at those festives.
And Frank was always there. He had a very nice voice. He played by notes and I by ear. He had a lot of late pretty hits. His folks had sent them to him from New York. He use to come and play them over for me several times until I could play them. One I remember yet was. “A Hammock Built for Two.” It was his favorite. Mother it always seemed like she had something like cookies, cake, candy or lemonade when the bunch would gather. Everyone loved my mother and enjoyed being there.
We girls all took the electric car or trolley and went to the beach one afternoon. It wasn’t long until we saw some of our girlfriends. The amusements were all finished and everything going in full swing. My father and brother were working as life guards at the beach while contemplating another job. It wasn’t long until Frank came walking down the boardwalk. He had been to our home and found we had gone to the beach. Said guess he’d better go down too so he could tell his folks in his next letter he had made another trip to the beach.
Not long after that, two evangelists came to the community to hold revival meetings at the Baptist Church. We girls sang special songs. We attended all of the meetings. They were wonderful and so inspiring. One evening they came to visit us, read the Bible and had prayer. They stayed to supper and that evening all went to church together. When they gave the altar call that night after the service, we three girls went forward in all sincerity. Many of the young people followed as we made our way to the altar. The two front seats were filled that night, mostly with young people. When church was out later, Frank was the first one to grab my hand and say, “now you’ll have to be good.’ I said, “I intend to, I have made my decision to that effect.” He said, “you were a very good girl anyway.”
The following week there was a baptismal service. We three girls along with the rest were baptized. We went to a home of one of the members near the river where the different churches used to baptize those converted to their churches. At this home we changed our clothes and put on clothes in which we could wade out in the water. The minister in the middle and so many on each side all holding on to the others hand as we waded out to where it was deep enough to be immersed. As we walked out I must have stepped on a sharp shell. I was next to the minister. I said in a sincere way I thought something had bitten my toe. Our young single minister, a very handsome young man, looked down at me, sober like or a sad look and said, “now , Annie, this is one of the most important times in your life.” And it was, I realized for the first time. As we sang “Shall We Gather at the River” I was never more sincere in all my life for I was always one who was full of life and laughter and enjoyed life to its fullest.