How wonderful to see how many generations of memories are shared here of this family and this big beautiful house of laughter, love and family. It give you a means to touch the past and those beautiful faces in the big old photos that you wish you could have met and known. It allows them to come to life in their time and place and let’s you know them through the memories of those who gave our generation our wonderful memories in this our place in time. It is truly a rare thing these days and that is what is so very special about this beautiful old house. Thank you Gerry Sue and Theresa for thinking of this way to touch the very thing that made me love history…the history of this special family I was lucky enough to land in.
Like Carol I love the taste of Lindale water! I remember drinking it from little glasses that Mama Eason got snuff in. I have a few of those glasses now…and my grandchildren drink from them now, but they are treasured by me more then my best Crystal goblets.
The truth is there is a real connection that I think we all feel to the old house on Hubbard road. How rare is it these days to have so many sweet memories from a place where your parent and grandparent lived out their childhood memories. I remember being so sad when grandmother sold the house. I was afraid it wouldn’t be loved like we loved it, that it would fall in disrepair like so many old homes do. How lucky were we that a couple who loved it bought it and fixed it up and then it was bought by a family that not only loves the house but appreciate the history of it and the deep affection we have for it. Many thanks to the Vickerys for all the visits they allow us to down memory lane.
*Seeing Granny sprint around her kitchen while making biscuits. Everything she did was fast and loud! I remember her slamming the oven… I know where my Mom gets it!
*The many “haunted houses” Scott & Sheryl put on for us younger cousins…telling us Effie Mae was covering her chest because her heart was cut out! :)
*Trying to fall asleep in the front bedroom with the creepy fan that I could see to the outside..usually on the chaise lounge…scared to death!
*Thinking Grandpa’s eyes in his picture on the wall followed us around the room.
*Loving the sweet taste of the water.
*Granny’s sewing stuff all over that one room she lived in when we weren’t there.
*The closet under the stairs with signatures of those relatives that built the house.
*ALL the laughter..it was always so much fun to be there with everyone!
I remember the wooden “drawers” in the kitchen where Mama kept the flour and how they pulled out. Then seeing her cook biscuits, dumplings, etc. We loved her squirrel dumplings and Mary Ann and I would both want the heads to eat the brains! No more…………
I don’t know what happened to the post I wrote about the pretty little pink roses outside Mother’s bedroom window, on the west side of the house, across from the old windmill and garage. Maybe it’ll be in here twice! I remember us taking pictures especially around Mother’s Day and we’d laugh about wearing pink instead of red or white, saying pink was half alive or half dead. Always laughing and fun! Loved growing up with my family!
Trying, unsuccessfully, to pry loose the penny that was placed in the cement of the front porch steps.
Looking for Uncle Lidge Eason’s handprint with the two last fingers missing on the side of those same steps. I later learned that his unique hand print was in the foundations of many of the old businesses in Lindale as he had helped to build them.
Swinging in the big porch swing.
The sound of my Grandmothers slippers scuffle across the kitchen floor at break neck speed.
Picking up sacks full pecans in the sandy back and side yards.
Playing house in Uncle Cicero’s old radio repair shop and cafe on the back porch.
Sliding down the tin doors of the old storm cellar while grandmother hung the clothes on the line all the time scolding me to stop before I cut my leg on the tin edges.
The top to bottom locks that were locked every night in the front and back two doors.
Standing in front of the space heaters to warm my legs in winter.
Playing upstairs in the attic with my cousins…especially Scott when the two of us would use Mamas old quilt box to hide in and the old portraits of Effie Mae and Aunt Mattie and Uncle Jack which were just creepy to kids to scare the begeebies out of all the kids younger then us.
Looking through the glass door window that opened up into the unfinished sections of the second story and wondering how big it was and what it was like on the other side of the door.
Sitting in the magnificent living room with it’s arched entry listening and singing along while Grandmother played the baby grand piano. “Edelweiss” and “How Great Thou Art” we’re her favorites.
looking at the closet door in the back room that began at the 12 ft ceiling and ended about a foot above the door to the middle room below it. Always wondering why in the world would someone put a closet in such a place and just what treasures it kept within it.
The sound of loud laughter coming from my mother, dad, grandmother, uncles, and aunts…especially my aunt Mary Ann whose voice echoed throughout the house in its distinctive way. There was always lots of laughter in that house.
Making pictures out of the water stains on the wallpaper in the front room and the purple flowered back bedroom.
Having to have my Grandmother stop the old mantel clock that chimed on the hour and half hour when I slept in the front room. I thought it was very scary and couldn’t stand to hear it’s eerie ticking and chimes. Now it graces a special place in my home, Jay winds it every Sunday and I find comfort in listening to it now, and it is one of my favorite treasures. It brings back the memories of that wonderful old house and how lucky I was to have been able to spend my childhood in the same walls my mother and grandmother were raised in. The house my great grandfather built on Hubbard Road.
I remember bath time…always interesting who was coming through…at least I was really young, no worries…
Sheryl and Scott scaring the crap out of us with the scary stories at the top of the landing…creepy all by itself but add stories and I NEVER went upsatirs again.
Granny having nightmares and yelling in the middle of the night, bat swinging and me all alone thinking I was going to see someone trying to kill her…no one there…and then she would just go back to sleep…again, scared the pants off of me.
Trying, unsuccessfully, to pry loose the penny that was placed in the cement of the front porch steps.
Looking for Uncle Lidge Eason’s handprint with the two last fingers missing on the side of those same steps. I later learned that his unique hand print was in the foundations of many of the old businesses in Lindale as he had helped to build them.
Swinging in the big porch swing.
The sound of my Grandmothers slippers scuffle across the kitchen floor at break neck speed.
Picking up sacks full pecans in the sandy back and side yards.
Playing house in Uncle Cicero’s old radio repair shop and cafe on the back porch.
Sliding down the tin doors of the old storm cellar while grandmother hung the clothes on the line all the time scolding me to stop before I cut my leg on the tin edges.
The top to bottom locks that were locked every night in the front and back two doors.
Standing in front of the space heaters to warm my legs in winter.
Playing upstairs in the attic with my cousins…especially Scott when the two of us would use Mamas old quilt box to hide in and the old portraits of Effie Mae and Aunt Mattie and Uncle Jack which were just creepy to kids to scare the begeebies out of all the kids younger then us.
Looking through the glass door window that opened up into the unfinished sections of the second story and wondering how big it was and what it was like on the other side of the door.
Sitting in the magnificent living room with it’s arched entry listening and singing along while Grandmother played the baby grand piano. “Edelweiss” and “How Great Thou Art” we’re her favorites.
looking at the closet door in the back room that began at the 12 ft ceiling and ended about a foot above the door to the middle room below it. Always wondering why in the world would someone put a closet in such a place and just what treasures it kept within it.
The sound of loud laughter coming from my mother, dad, grandmother, uncles, and aunts…especially my aunt Mary Ann whose voice echoed throughout the house in its distinctive way. There was always lots of laughter in that house.
Making pictures out of the water stains on the wallpaper in the front room and the purple flowered back bedroom.
Having to have my Grandmother stop the old mantel clock that chimed on the hour and half hour when I slept in the front room. I thought it was very scary and couldn’t stand to hear it’s eerie ticking and chimes. Now it graces a special place in my home, Jay winds it every Sunday and I find comfort in listening to it now, and it is one of my favorite treasures. It brings back the memories of that wonderful old house and how lucky I was to have been able to spend my childhood in the same walls my mother and grandmother were raised in. The house my great grandfather built on Hubbard Road.
Ribbon candies at Christmas
The fireplaces being boarded up
Sleeping on the back porch with Mama, Poppa and whatever cousins were around
Shelling peas on the back steps
Churning butter on the back steps
Mama’s chickens
Mama cleaning fish—ick
Mama frying chicken—yum
Mama’s cornbread—hot with real butter
BUTTERMILK—heavenly
Real Grits
Eating watermelon in the backyard
Playing in the dirt and mud—an idyllic life
The vegetable garden
Vegetables like corn, orca, green beans and Aunt Mary’s mint plants
Fresh snow with syrup on it
The washhouse and wash day and the ringer washing machine
The house always having someone there
Never ‘having’ to wear shoes at Mama’s
Everyone eating at the kitchen table—it looked so small when I went back as an adult
Always having something to do and someone’s lap to cuddle into
The big black wall phone in the hall
Mama’s secretary with its secret drawers and hiding places
The big mahogany four poster beds in the adults’ bedrooms
Sitting on the kitchen counter eating raw dough among other things
Mama’s pies
The front porch and that wonderful swing
Watching thunderstorms and heavy rain from the front porch or the screened back porch
Mama’s Singer Sewing Machine
The quilts Mama made
The ever marvelous attic, all the wonderful treasures up there and all those big old pictures in even bigger frames
The front room furniture and sitting nicely with a frilly dress and shoes and socks—being ladylike
The front room full of people for Mama & Papa’s 50th Wedding Anniversary party
The little golden bells on the cake squares
Going back to Texas for Mama’s funeral and the front room full of people again
Running up and down the hall and in and out the doors
The really majestic stairs up to the attic
All the big windows open along with the doors on really hot days and the breeze from the electric fans
The closet in the bedroom 16 feet off the floor (maybe a bit less)
The smell of the storm cellar
Dad’s radio repair shop and all the intriguing things in it
The windmill and water tower
The pecan trees
PECANS
Pecan Divinity
The burrs in the grass and being placed in the middle of it barefoot because I had annoyed one of my cousins
The weeping willow
Horney Toads and lizards
The pond with its fish
The really dark and small garage
Mama’s flowers and flowering plants and bees
Sitting on the back stairs at night and looking at the stars
My birthdays, my birthday cakes and my dolls
Always being in a happy place and knowing I was loved and cherished by one and all
The truth is there is a real connection that I think we all feel to the old house on Hubbard road. How rare is it these days to have so many sweet memories from a place where your parent and grandparent lived out their childhood memories. I remember being so sad when grandmother sold the house. I was afraid it wouldn’t be loved like we loved it, that it would fall in disrepair like so many old homes do. How lucky were we that a couple who loved it bought it and fixed it up and then it was bought by a family that not only loves the house but appreciate the history of it and the deep affection we have for it. Many thanks to the Vickerys for all the visits they allow us to down memory lane.
*The many “haunted houses” Scott & Sheryl put on for us younger cousins…telling us Effie Mae was covering her chest because her heart was cut out! :)
*Trying to fall asleep in the front bedroom with the creepy fan that I could see to the outside..usually on the chaise lounge…scared to death!
*Thinking Grandpa’s eyes in his picture on the wall followed us around the room.
*Loving the sweet taste of the water.
*Granny’s sewing stuff all over that one room she lived in when we weren’t there.
*The closet under the stairs with signatures of those relatives that built the house.
*ALL the laughter..it was always so much fun to be there with everyone!
The front porch swing…and the penny!
I don’t know what happened to the post I wrote about the pretty little pink roses outside Mother’s bedroom window, on the west side of the house, across from the old windmill and garage. Maybe it’ll be in here twice! I remember us taking pictures especially around Mother’s Day and we’d laugh about wearing pink instead of red or white, saying pink was half alive or half dead. Always laughing and fun! Loved growing up with my family!
The smell of the red dirt in the driveway
Trying, unsuccessfully, to pry loose the penny that was placed in the cement of the front porch steps.
Looking for Uncle Lidge Eason’s handprint with the two last fingers missing on the side of those same steps. I later learned that his unique hand print was in the foundations of many of the old businesses in Lindale as he had helped to build them.
Swinging in the big porch swing.
The sound of my Grandmothers slippers scuffle across the kitchen floor at break neck speed.
Picking up sacks full pecans in the sandy back and side yards.
Playing house in Uncle Cicero’s old radio repair shop and cafe on the back porch.
Sliding down the tin doors of the old storm cellar while grandmother hung the clothes on the line all the time scolding me to stop before I cut my leg on the tin edges.
The top to bottom locks that were locked every night in the front and back two doors.
Standing in front of the space heaters to warm my legs in winter.
Playing upstairs in the attic with my cousins…especially Scott when the two of us would use Mamas old quilt box to hide in and the old portraits of Effie Mae and Aunt Mattie and Uncle Jack which were just creepy to kids to scare the begeebies out of all the kids younger then us.
Looking through the glass door window that opened up into the unfinished sections of the second story and wondering how big it was and what it was like on the other side of the door.
Sitting in the magnificent living room with it’s arched entry listening and singing along while Grandmother played the baby grand piano. “Edelweiss” and “How Great Thou Art” we’re her favorites.
looking at the closet door in the back room that began at the 12 ft ceiling and ended about a foot above the door to the middle room below it. Always wondering why in the world would someone put a closet in such a place and just what treasures it kept within it.
The sound of loud laughter coming from my mother, dad, grandmother, uncles, and aunts…especially my aunt Mary Ann whose voice echoed throughout the house in its distinctive way. There was always lots of laughter in that house.
Making pictures out of the water stains on the wallpaper in the front room and the purple flowered back bedroom.
Having to have my Grandmother stop the old mantel clock that chimed on the hour and half hour when I slept in the front room. I thought it was very scary and couldn’t stand to hear it’s eerie ticking and chimes. Now it graces a special place in my home, Jay winds it every Sunday and I find comfort in listening to it now, and it is one of my favorite treasures. It brings back the memories of that wonderful old house and how lucky I was to have been able to spend my childhood in the same walls my mother and grandmother were raised in. The house my great grandfather built on Hubbard Road.
Sheryl and Scott scaring the crap out of us with the scary stories at the top of the landing…creepy all by itself but add stories and I NEVER went upsatirs again.
Granny having nightmares and yelling in the middle of the night, bat swinging and me all alone thinking I was going to see someone trying to kill her…no one there…and then she would just go back to sleep…again, scared the pants off of me.
The smell of the red dirt in the driveway
Trying, unsuccessfully, to pry loose the penny that was placed in the cement of the front porch steps.
Looking for Uncle Lidge Eason’s handprint with the two last fingers missing on the side of those same steps. I later learned that his unique hand print was in the foundations of many of the old businesses in Lindale as he had helped to build them.
Swinging in the big porch swing.
The sound of my Grandmothers slippers scuffle across the kitchen floor at break neck speed.
Picking up sacks full pecans in the sandy back and side yards.
Playing house in Uncle Cicero’s old radio repair shop and cafe on the back porch.
Sliding down the tin doors of the old storm cellar while grandmother hung the clothes on the line all the time scolding me to stop before I cut my leg on the tin edges.
The top to bottom locks that were locked every night in the front and back two doors.
Standing in front of the space heaters to warm my legs in winter.
Playing upstairs in the attic with my cousins…especially Scott when the two of us would use Mamas old quilt box to hide in and the old portraits of Effie Mae and Aunt Mattie and Uncle Jack which were just creepy to kids to scare the begeebies out of all the kids younger then us.
Looking through the glass door window that opened up into the unfinished sections of the second story and wondering how big it was and what it was like on the other side of the door.
Sitting in the magnificent living room with it’s arched entry listening and singing along while Grandmother played the baby grand piano. “Edelweiss” and “How Great Thou Art” we’re her favorites.
looking at the closet door in the back room that began at the 12 ft ceiling and ended about a foot above the door to the middle room below it. Always wondering why in the world would someone put a closet in such a place and just what treasures it kept within it.
The sound of loud laughter coming from my mother, dad, grandmother, uncles, and aunts…especially my aunt Mary Ann whose voice echoed throughout the house in its distinctive way. There was always lots of laughter in that house.
Making pictures out of the water stains on the wallpaper in the front room and the purple flowered back bedroom.
Having to have my Grandmother stop the old mantel clock that chimed on the hour and half hour when I slept in the front room. I thought it was very scary and couldn’t stand to hear it’s eerie ticking and chimes. Now it graces a special place in my home, Jay winds it every Sunday and I find comfort in listening to it now, and it is one of my favorite treasures. It brings back the memories of that wonderful old house and how lucky I was to have been able to spend my childhood in the same walls my mother and grandmother were raised in. The house my great grandfather built on Hubbard Road.