A Texas Country Road
In 1983, two sisters decided to take their widowed mother to Young County, Texas to visit her Lindley kin. The trip was to include a visit to the Tonk Valley cemetery, where her mother, Ruth Ann Sims Lindley, was buried.
Ruth Marie, the designated family historian, took her cassette recorder and camera to record the trip for posterity. The long trip from Big Spring to Graham was uneventful except for the enlightening conversations about the Lindley family. Their mother rarely talked about her family and it was delightful to listen to her talk about her family history.
They arrived in Graham on a pleasant Friday afternoon and checked into their favorite motel. Their mother took a short nap and later they enjoyed a great meal in the motel dining room.
After a good night's sleep their mother was anxious to go to South Bend, a small community ten miles north of Graham, where three of her brothers lived. During their visit with Robert Lindley, their mother's favorite brother, Emma Lee asked for directions to the Tonk Valley Cemetery. She was surprised to learn that it was off the main highway between South Bend and Graham. She was familiar with that road for her cousin, Gordon Brown, had a farm just north of the road. She decided they would attempt to find the cemetery that afternoon.
Driving down the State highway toward Graham, Emma Lee spotted the cemetery road on the right. She turned onto a narrow asphalt country road and soon they were passing one farm after another with modern brick houses. The asphalt roadway ended and they could hear the crunch of gravel as they continued their journey.
"Stop!" their mother shouted. Emma Lee braked and said, "Mother, there is no place to park off the road. Why do you want to stop out here in the middle of nowhere?"
"There should be a side road nearby. I want to show you the old Moore Place where I was living when your daddy and I met."
Emma Lee continued down the road at a snails pace until she came to a dirt road veering off to the left. "Is this the road, mother?" she asked.
"Yes," The house should be about a mile up this road."
They passed a field of cotton in bloom, then a large field of wheat ready for harvesting. Their mother spotted the house first and started to cry. Emma Lee drove the car as close to the farmhouse as she dared and stopped. Ruth Marie helped their mother out of the car. The three women stared at the dilapidated and deserted farmhouse their mother fondly referred to as the 'Old Moore Place.'
Finally their mother began to speak "In 1925 my father was a tenant farmer and I remember that we had a bumper crop of cotton that year. I was seventeen and there were ten people living in that small wood framed farmhouse: my older sister, Clara; older brothers Joe, Shell and Ted and younger brothers Robert, Roy and Delmer."
"The farmhouse had a huge living room, a large kitchen and two bedrooms. Clara and I shared a bed with a real mattress with bedsprings and an old iron bedstead. See the old barn over there?" she continued, pointing to the left of the farmhouse. "My brothers slept in the loft of that barn on a bed made of hay."
Looking south of the house their mother pointed toward an old wooden windmill, still standing but warped. It looked as if it would collapse any minute. The wooden water tank had given in to time and lay in a heap next to the windmill. She smiled. "We don't dare go down there, now do we?"
She started walking north toward a large pecan tree. She started picking up pecans and said, "1 loved to climb this old tree. 1 could see the whole lower valley from my perch on its strong limbs where 1 hid ITom my younger brothers who pestered me no end."
The mother and daughters continued walking. They soon approached what appeared to be a chicken house. The structure was a shambles: the roof almost gone, the wooden door sagging, and the gate made out of chicken wire was lying on the ground. Their mother stopped, and with a quivering voice said, "One of my chores was gathering the eggs every morning before breakfast. My brothers milked the cows and my older sister made the biscuits. My mother was sickly and mean spirited so we did what we could to keep her mouth shut."
Looking around full circle their mother took the scene into her soul. Sighing deeply she said, "I'm ready to go to the cemetery now. Thanks for allowing me to travel back in time. Memories are so precious."
The daughters gave their mother a big hug, helped her into the car and traveled on to the cemetery. The gravel road soon became a dirt road which ended at the gated entrance. As Emma Lee stopped the car she said, "I wouldn't trade this trip for all the tea in China."
Ruth Marie opened the car door, stepped out and looked around in awe. Opening the back door she said, "Mother, this experience has brought me an everlasting serenity. Thank you for sharing this journey down a very special Texas country road."
Ruth Marie, the designated family historian, took her cassette recorder and camera to record the trip for posterity. The long trip from Big Spring to Graham was uneventful except for the enlightening conversations about the Lindley family. Their mother rarely talked about her family and it was delightful to listen to her talk about her family history.
They arrived in Graham on a pleasant Friday afternoon and checked into their favorite motel. Their mother took a short nap and later they enjoyed a great meal in the motel dining room.
After a good night's sleep their mother was anxious to go to South Bend, a small community ten miles north of Graham, where three of her brothers lived. During their visit with Robert Lindley, their mother's favorite brother, Emma Lee asked for directions to the Tonk Valley Cemetery. She was surprised to learn that it was off the main highway between South Bend and Graham. She was familiar with that road for her cousin, Gordon Brown, had a farm just north of the road. She decided they would attempt to find the cemetery that afternoon.
Driving down the State highway toward Graham, Emma Lee spotted the cemetery road on the right. She turned onto a narrow asphalt country road and soon they were passing one farm after another with modern brick houses. The asphalt roadway ended and they could hear the crunch of gravel as they continued their journey.
"Stop!" their mother shouted. Emma Lee braked and said, "Mother, there is no place to park off the road. Why do you want to stop out here in the middle of nowhere?"
"There should be a side road nearby. I want to show you the old Moore Place where I was living when your daddy and I met."
Emma Lee continued down the road at a snails pace until she came to a dirt road veering off to the left. "Is this the road, mother?" she asked.
"Yes," The house should be about a mile up this road."
They passed a field of cotton in bloom, then a large field of wheat ready for harvesting. Their mother spotted the house first and started to cry. Emma Lee drove the car as close to the farmhouse as she dared and stopped. Ruth Marie helped their mother out of the car. The three women stared at the dilapidated and deserted farmhouse their mother fondly referred to as the 'Old Moore Place.'
Finally their mother began to speak "In 1925 my father was a tenant farmer and I remember that we had a bumper crop of cotton that year. I was seventeen and there were ten people living in that small wood framed farmhouse: my older sister, Clara; older brothers Joe, Shell and Ted and younger brothers Robert, Roy and Delmer."
"The farmhouse had a huge living room, a large kitchen and two bedrooms. Clara and I shared a bed with a real mattress with bedsprings and an old iron bedstead. See the old barn over there?" she continued, pointing to the left of the farmhouse. "My brothers slept in the loft of that barn on a bed made of hay."
Looking south of the house their mother pointed toward an old wooden windmill, still standing but warped. It looked as if it would collapse any minute. The wooden water tank had given in to time and lay in a heap next to the windmill. She smiled. "We don't dare go down there, now do we?"
She started walking north toward a large pecan tree. She started picking up pecans and said, "1 loved to climb this old tree. 1 could see the whole lower valley from my perch on its strong limbs where 1 hid ITom my younger brothers who pestered me no end."
The mother and daughters continued walking. They soon approached what appeared to be a chicken house. The structure was a shambles: the roof almost gone, the wooden door sagging, and the gate made out of chicken wire was lying on the ground. Their mother stopped, and with a quivering voice said, "One of my chores was gathering the eggs every morning before breakfast. My brothers milked the cows and my older sister made the biscuits. My mother was sickly and mean spirited so we did what we could to keep her mouth shut."
Looking around full circle their mother took the scene into her soul. Sighing deeply she said, "I'm ready to go to the cemetery now. Thanks for allowing me to travel back in time. Memories are so precious."
The daughters gave their mother a big hug, helped her into the car and traveled on to the cemetery. The gravel road soon became a dirt road which ended at the gated entrance. As Emma Lee stopped the car she said, "I wouldn't trade this trip for all the tea in China."
Ruth Marie opened the car door, stepped out and looked around in awe. Opening the back door she said, "Mother, this experience has brought me an everlasting serenity. Thank you for sharing this journey down a very special Texas country road."
