Joy's Remembrances of Childhood

Cousin Joy has given me permission to include her stories of childhood. Great memories of wonderful times spent with her Aunts, but more importantly with her Grandmother (Cora). Here are her memories:
August, 2011

I enjoyed seeing the Little family pictures.

I remembered your Dad and my memory hasn’t failed me. His photos are how I remember him.

I absolutely loved your Mom to pieces. She used to take Susie, Jean and myself to spend the night with them. They had chickens and pigs that I remember. We would beg Uncle Irvin to play that trumpet and he would. At the time I knew the song but I can’t remember it right now.

About the story of Grandma Johnson treating Aunt Gracie for warts: Well, your Mom did the same thing with Susie once when we were visiting her. Your Mom told Susie to bury the rag somewhere inside the fence where the chickens were. She did, but I don’t know if the warts went away or not.
We had the best time at your Mom’s. Happy memories.

The Johnson photos were nice to see. I had almost forgotten what Uncle Claude looked like.

I do remember the pig roasts.

I also remember the time when they shot a goat and when they did they made all of us kids go around behind the house while my Dad shot it. I don’t remember if they roasted it or not but they probably did as everyone was there. (Later Billy Ross Bennett said that they did roast the goat, he remembers the day as well)

I remember Grandma (Cora) would take a chicken and tie its legs to the clothesline. Then she’d wring its neck. Ugh. . .

When we went to visit Grandma she nearly always took us into the back room. It was very dark and that is where she kept all of her canned vegetables, jams, etc. She sealed the top of her jars and jams and jellies with paraffin and she would take it off and give us the wax to chew on. It always had a little jam or jelly on it and that made it taste really good. We would chew it for hours.

I used to look at Grandma’s false teeth that she kept in a jar of water by the pitcher pump in the big kitchen. The gums were almost purple, and they were fascinating to a little kid.

I loved Grandma more than anyone else in the whole world. She was so special to me. I missed her dearly after she died. For a long, long time when I thought of her I would cry and cry. Her spirit has stayed with me for many, many years. I always knew she was near, even after I was an adult.

The best time of my life was when we were kids at Grandma’s house.

To this day I can remember when I was very little, sitting on her lap as she would rock me and sing to me. . .


“Here comes the Sandman

Stepping so softly

He scatters sand, with his own little hand

Through the eyes of the sleepy Children

Go to sleep my Children

Close your sleepy eyes

The Lady moon will watch you

Throughout the Darkening sky.”


Why do I still remember it? I don’t know.

Grandpa Johnson used to keep the slop bucket on the back porch and grandma would throw all the scraps from meals into it. Then, in the afternoon Grandpa would pour water into it and add a scoop of hog feed. Off we’d go to the barn to slop the hogs.

That was fun stuff don’t you know? Grandpa was a pretty good Grandpa also. . .

Ask Billy Ross if he remembers when we were all at Grandma’s and everyone spent the night. All of us kids had to sleep in the same bed; some of at the head of the bed, and some of us at the foot of the bed. There must have been 6 or 8 of us in the same bed. They had a big bedroom at the front of the house, but later tore the room off. The front porch extended from the front door around the house past the big bedroom. I don’t’ think I got any sleep when we slept there. Gary Wayne took up a lot of room and stretched out and those of us at the foot of the bed had to scrunch up to fit.

There was an alley that ran between the properties. The house, coal shed, storage shed, chicken coop, and outhouse were on one side of the alley and the barn was down and across the alley (in Lodi).

One day Susie, Jean and myself were out playing as we always did at Grandma’s house and behind the outhouse and across the alley along the fence row were some bushes that had purple berries that were ripe. We found out that they stained when you mashed them.

So, we girls used the berries as lipstick and then went back inside of the house. Oh my! All hell broke loose. Aunt Violet, Aunt Mary, and Aunt Gracie were mortified.

“Where did you get them berries?”

“Did you swallow any of them?”

They were all scurrying around trying to get it off of our lips and they made us drink a glass of milk. They told us the berries were “poison”.

Gee, I just knew we were in so much trouble that we were going to get a whipping for what we did.

It never happened. Not from our Aunties. They scolded us and told us never to touch them berries again or they would kill us. “NEVER AGAIN!”

I was a teenager when Grandpa Bill passed away.

He had always been a robust guy and when he was in the TB Sanatorium (Rockville, IN) I went with my Dad to visit him. I remember walking past this long row of beds looking for Grandpa. I couldn’t see him anywhere and then my dad said, “Joy, back here.” Grandpa was so thin I didn’t know who he was. I had been looking for a big guy. I was so shocked I didn’t know what to say to him. He knew who I was as he always called me “Jo”. When he died I didn’t go to his funeral since I just couldn’t bear to see him like that again. Afterwards I was ashamed because I didn’t go.