I decided that it would be fun to do a story about me… from the beginning. A watch me grow story. I think it will be a fun way for you to get to know me. You all know that I do better story-telling when I have photos to work off of so let’s start here.
My mom and dad met back shortly after the earth was formed, back in the olden days, at John E. Brown College in Siloam Springs, Arkansas. Dad was born and raised in Tennessee and mom was born and raised in Texas. My granddaddy and grandmother Venable moved to Gentry, Arkansas, when the children were still in school. Mom was the oldest of six children, five of whom lived to adulthood. Dad was the fifth child of nine, one of which died as a child. Mom used to say that she didn’t stand a chance when it came to dad… he was spoiled by his older sisters before she ever met him. Dad would just laugh, sort of embarrassedly, but you knew he loved the attention.
Mom worked in the cafeteria at the college to help pay her way through her last two years of high school and her two years of college. She got her degree in general education. Her plan was to teach until she met my dad and did, in fact, teach for a year in a one room school, first through eighth grade before they married.
This photo wasn’t dated but I figure it was around the time or shortly before they were married. Back in the day most get-togethers were reunions around marryin’ or buryin’ times so this was probably a pretty special date for them. John E. Brown College was a non-denominational Christian school and in the Twenties it wasn’t proper for a young lady and a young gentleman to do the public displays of affection and at the College they weren’t even allowed to hold hands. They would sit out on the grounds of the school after class and visit, always in groups, and mom and dad would sit kind of back to back so they could touch. That was okay, but no hand holding or necking like yard trash that you see on campuses and in the malls nowadays.
This photo, if the number on the license plate is correct, was taken the year I was born… the fifth of their six children. You will get to meet my sibs along the way and their children and grandchildren.
After all, I have sixty five years to cover… I have to figure out something to write about! James Michener I’m not.