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Porterdale Mill on the Yellow
River |
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DOWN
MEMORY LANE |
| These trips down memory lane would not be complete without the following. Have you ever been hungry and did not know where you were going to get your next meal? I do not think we were ever starved, but I do remember when it would have been nice to have a little more food around. The hard times were when we lived in the three tiny rooms attached to the Church near Porterdale. Every one in the country was having hard times during the depression and the recovery period. Most folks did not have a job and those that did were not working full time nor earning very much money. Therefore, there were few ties coming in, which meant that the Preacher got little or no money. I remember walking several miles to get ten cents worth of kerosene so that we could use the stove for cooking. I had to walk to the store since Daddy did not have the money to buy gasoline for the car. I remember laying awake at night and hearing Mother and Daddy talking about our food supply, wondering what they were going to do. But again the Lord provided for those that serve Him. There were several members of the Church that shared what little they had, but there are three families that deserve special mentioning. They are the Mr. & Mrs. Seabolt (Dallas’ Mom and Dad), Corine and Edgar Chapman, and Aunt Montine. These folks were life savers and it seemed they knew exactly when to show up with some food. Most of Aunt Montine’s contribution consisted of canned foods, such as Spam and vegetables. The Seabolts and Chapman's both lived on a farm and grew and raised most of their food, so it was more plentiful with them. They brought meat, eggs, butter, and milk. If it had not been for these good folks there is no doubt in my mind that we would have really gone hungry during this period. A little story about when we were visiting Corine and Edgar one time. I was about six or seven and there was a row of chicken nests attached to the side of the smoke house. Leading up to these nest were several light weight latter’s. These latter’s were one straight stick with small cross pieces and designed just for the chickens. I thought I would make myself useful and pick the eggs from these nests. Up the latter I went, I do not know why it did not break. At the top of the latter I could reach several of the nest and I collected the eggs, having more than I could hold and needing my hands to climb back down the latter, I stuffed the eggs into my pockets. As I climbed down the latter the eggs began to break open and by the time I got to the bottom I think I had broken everyone of them. I had a real mess in my pockets. I was also in trouble with Mother and Daddy. I was just a kid. Speaking of food and kids, I recall Mother telling one on Jack. Jack was in desperate need for some country ham and Mother did not have any. Jack asked: “ Well can’t you go borrow some?” |