Some of my earliest memories are of visits to the Smyrna Cemetery in Rains County, TX (close to Emory) where my daddy knelt at the graves of his parents and wept. This followed a day of eating and catching up with family news at the "old homeplace". While the women packed up leftovers, the men played horseshoes and the kids played or lazily watched ants making trails to the watermelon juice and seeds that fell on the ground. We all gathered at the Smyrna Church where rousing Gospel songs were sung and tears and sweat dripped off faces of brothers and sisters and cousins who enjoyed being together. It was Texas heat in the summer and no air conditioning in cars or churches in the country. At the time I was hot and wanting to go home and bothering Daddy about when were we leaving, "in a minute, sis" turned into half an hour. Now I treasure those memories of my childhood.

Some of my earliest memories are of visits to the Smyrna Cemetery in Rains County, TX (close to Emory) where my daddy knelt at the graves of his parents and wept. This followed a day of eating and catching up with family news at the "old homeplace". While the women packed up leftovers, the men played horseshoes and the kids played or lazily watched ants making trails to the watermelon juice and seeds that fell on the ground. We all gathered at the Smyrna Church where rousing Gospel songs were sung and tears and sweat dripped off faces of brothers and sisters and cousins who enjoyed being together. It was Texas heat in the summer and no air conditioning in cars or churches in the country. At the time I was hot and wanting to go home and bothering Daddy about when were we leaving, "in a minute, sis" turned into half an hour. Now I treasure those memories of my childhood.