Janice Williams Loves Austin And sometimes I write about it.

May 11, 2012

Two Stories

Filed under: Family — Janice @ 10:19 pm

I posted this picture this afternoon on my Facebook account:


It’s funny how a picture can so quickly remind me of so many different things. First, the era of the picture (and its oddity) remind me of a picture a cousin of mine used to have from her family. Somewhere I have a printed copy of the photo she made for me because that was back in the days where we didn’t have digital pictures and didn’t share them (I’m glad those days are gone). It was a picture of a distinguished older African-American man sitting in a chair. Black and white and from nearly the same era (it appeared) as this picture. Also in the picture were two toddler blonde-headed Caucasian children, each standing by his knees and comfortably leaning on him. There was also at least one long-eared hound dog at his feet or nearby.  It was truly a one-of-a-kind picture and she said that it was from somewhere in her family and the man was a servant or a slave or a caretaker who was very much a part of the family and an important figure to those two little boys. Like this picture, it makes you just wonder what prompted the picture to be taken. That one (the man and the boys) is very sweet. This one is just odd!

The second story that comes to mind is a family story from my family history. I would have to go look it up to remember who it was exactly, but I’m pretty sure it was an uncle or a cousin of mine from the Couch family because my cousin Paula has it written in the information that she has shared with me. In that story, set in the days before there were cars, a couple of the boys in the family were taking the wagon into town from their farm in Comanche County to get something that was needed at the store. Their little brother begged to be allowed to come along with the big boys and was permitted. It was no short trip, but it was made worse when, on the way home, a blue norther blew in and about froze the boys. So they stopped at a house along the way to seek shelter for a while. To warm the boys up, the woman of the house made a pot of coffee and gave a cup to each of the older boys. The little 5-year-old boy followed her back to the kitchen and said, “Please, ma’am, can I have some coffee, too?” She said, “Why, you shouldn’t be drinking coffee, it’s not good for you,” and he replied, “I know ma’am, but I’m 5 now and it’s awful hard to give up.”

The second story is a story of my sweet husband Mark. When Mark and his brother Dave were little boys, they lived in Richardson, Texas. Their grandparents lived in Abilene, Texas. It was not unusual for them to get to fly ALONE to see their grandparents or for the return trip. They had spent extra time after a holiday with the grandparents and, when they had to go back home, their grandparents dropped them off at the airport (ha, I’m kidding, I don’t they did THAT back then)… they took them to the airport. At some point, a woman saw the 2 boys and said, “Aren’t you awfully young to be flying by yourself?” and Mark replied (with some degree of impatience or disgust), “No, I’m 6 and he’s 5!”  As if that was all she needed to know.

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