Margie A. Self of Oneonta writes, “Today, Feb. 15, 2011, I was recalling my youth during the 1940s and 1950s … living with my grandparents while my father and uncles were at war ( World War II). There were aunts, cousins, great-uncles. We lived off the land with gardens and fruit trees, corn fields and cotton fields. We had milk cows and raised beef cows and killed hogs in the cool days of wintertime. We also had beehives for honey. My grandmother (Lexie Ann Dooley Nash) would say, ‘We don’t have much, but we got enough.’ We had a lot of love and that means a lot. Love is the answer to most of our problems, along with faith and hope.”
Here is her story of remembrance.
Mama Nash never raised her voice to teach me right from wrong. I do recall the taste of lye soap when I said a fourletter word.
We went to church on Sundays, Sunday nights, and Wednesday nights at Highmound Baptist Church. No TV, no night clubs, no strong drinks.
The family gathered on the front porch and listened to Daddy Nash talk about his younger days. We would go to the Tennessee River to fish, then have a fish fry for family and friends.
We gathered around the piano and sang those Old Gospel songs and prayed for the young men fighting during World War II.
Daddy Nash died from a heart attack. Family members thought it would be best not to tell Mama Nash since she was bedridden from a stroke and was blind. But Mama Nash sensed something was wrong as I was visiting with her, holding her hand in my hand. Mama Nash asked me, “Where is Daddy?” I could not lie to my Mama Nash. I said, “He has gone to live with Jesus.”
She relaxed and said, “Thank you.” A smile came across her face as she patted my hand. (She passed away four months after Daddy Nash died.)
That moment has lived in my heart and made its home in this soul of mine forever. “The truth will always set you free.”