My mother was the second daughter and fourth child of my Grandpa Tom and Grandma Abby.

What I am sure of is that Mama absolutely hated her intended name; so she was always glad that "Aunt Susie" raised a fuss wanting the new baby, my future mother, to be named after her. So it was.

Mama wasn't crazy about "Susie Bell" but apparently she could live with it better than "Nettie" whatever.

Heck! Grandpa Tom called her "Dinky Boy." She wasn't too fond of that either and had a life long hatred of nicknames which explains why my name is Sandra and not "Sandy." She did not want any of her children called by a nickname.

While still a boy, he went to work at a sawmill.

That's the way it was back then. Opportunities were limited; life precarious and survival was a day to day thing.

You see, there is no tomorrow unless you can make it through today.

So boys, and sometimes girls, went to work as soon as they were able.

In this part of the country, at that time, "work" for men and boys usually meant something to do with pine. Turpentine stills, sawmills; dirty, backbreaking, dangerous work.

The Nelson I remember had lost half a thumb and had only one eye.

His wife, Della, was his half first cousin, the daughter of my grandfather's half brother.

They had no children; but, took care of my grandfather and mentally handicapped uncle after my grandmother's death as well as helped raise two of my cousins and lots of cats.

Next came Nellie Virginia. Seven years older than my mother, some of her earliest pictures show her to have once been on the "chubby" side; but, the woman I remember always looked scrawny and haggard with a flat almost sunken in chest which was a big contrast to my mother's "full" figure.

But the rest of "Nellie's bunch" made me appreciate "my bunch" for they were they kind who were always drinking and cussing half the time and praying and "confessing their sins" the rest of the time.

One of her sons was shot and killed by his wife when I was about twelve.

James Nelton was called "Doc" because as a boy he liked to take people's temperature and pretend he was a doctor. He also liked to wear women's clothing.

Doc was what we would today call "mentally challenged."

It wasn't severe; but, back then the training and educational programs we have today were not available so he never lived on his own.

The "Doc" I knew looked nothing like the above photograph.

I remember him as an older man living with my Uncle Nelson and Aunt Della. Kinda heavy jowls, always wearing overalls which is what a lot of men in our part of the country did back then; and very quiet, just sort of always there in the background, but seldom really a part of things.

Abner came right after my mother.

He is the member of the family none of the rest want to talk about, and they sure didn't want to keep any mementos. I don't remember him and I do not remember ever seeing a picture either. Other than that let's just say that he died in prison at the age of 49.

Edward was the "baby."

I kind of remember him and kinda don't. It's a long story; but, he seems to have been all right.

Ten years younger than my mother, and born in the same year the United States entered The First World War, he was a marine during World War Two.

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Edward's 1929 class picture