Here’s a letter I received from Aunt Mary Alice on February 1, 1997.  She wrote to me because a few weeks ago I sent her a large print version of Floye Pitts’ letter to Cindy.

1-27-97

 Dear Billy,

 I am in Fred’s office and he doesn’t have a black pen that writes larger.  I can’t see the lines on the paper either, but I did want to get a letter off to you, thanking you for the recent addition to our family history.  There is one correction.  My Grandpa Rich Hill’s first wife was Mary Hill, because I was named for her.  It could have been Mary Elizabeth, but I am sure she was called Mary.  (Note:  After I sent Aunt Mary Alice the letter from Floye along with a printout of her family tree, I received a letter and other materials from Virginia Pickens to whom I had also sent a family tree.  Among the materials was a testimonial to a Mary T. Hill, wife of Richard T. Hill, written after her death by Rev. T. P. Ramsey.  I had guessed that I had my great grandmother’s name wrong (Daddy had told me once that he “thought” it was Elizabeth), and now I am sure I had it wrong.)

I had heard about someone burning Mother’s blouse, as she told us of the unkind way Miss Fannie treated her and the rest of her brothers and sisters. 

My dear mother surely made a drastic change in her life when she married my Dad.  She had been living in Memphis at the YWCA and fitting gloves at Bry’s Department Store.  Then all of a sudden she was back in a tiny town, living in a house with her in-laws.  Papa (Charles James Anderson) was paralyzed, but Mama (my grandparents) was a real trouper.

Papa’s name was Charles James and Mama’s name was Alice Jane.  She was a beautiful little woman with lovely curly hair.  Papa was a fine looking man and had run a livery stable where he sold horses, wagons, buggies and did all the horseshoeing and other things.  More like our modern car dealers.  He kept his own books and I loved to go through them to see the beautiful handwriting and also note (even though I was young) that he still had money owed to him.

I remember Mama dyeing old woolen clothes of my Dad’s.  She dyed them in a big black kettle in the back yard and then would carry them way down to the branch of fresh water and rinse them.  Then, after they were dry, she would press the material and make coats and pants for my brothers and me.

She was also a great cook, so in a way my mother was blessed to have her, for she and Dad started their family fast.  They were married in early December and I came August 29.  (I teased my old maid mother who was 32 when married that nine months hadn’t quite passed when I came.) Thirteen months later Hill and Grimmett came and a couple of years later our Freddie.  He was my baby, I thought, as I loved rocking him and feeding him.  We all loved each other so much and had a great childhood together.

I don’t remember but twice that anything unpleasant happened.  Once Hill told my parents that “Sister is just going out too much,” when I really wasn’t.  Then again, when I told Daddy the boys were smoking.  He did the cutest thing that night at dinner.  He got out his Camels and offered them some, and then said, “Oh, I forgot--Your brand is Piedmont,” and brought out the ones I had found in the garage. 

Fred and I have a great time in our retirement village.  He is president of the Homeowners Association and is doing a great job.  His brother lives about an hour and a half away,and his cousins who seem like parents live about one hour away.  He has a niece and five great nieces that live about 30 minutes away.  We stay pretty busy playing bridge, bingo (I can’t do much bingo), suppers, etc.

I know you all had fun at Christmas and I really enjoyed talking with all of you.  

So sorry Freddie feels he shouldn’t drive any more.  I quit driving three years ago.  It’s hard to have to depend on someone else to take you everywhere.  Fred is good about doing most of the grocery shopping.  I go with him frequently.  He awakens early, 5:00 a.m. sometimes, and goes to the store and comes back to bed.

Bye -- love,

Aunt M.A.