Tag Archives: Family story

Getting Angry & Getting Even with a Green Parrot

This story comes from Grandmother Glover’s Voice. In this story, which took place in the 1920’s, Grandmother tells about her grandson’s struggles with my mother’s parrot. As I sat on the floor next to Grandmother’s rocking chair, she said . . .

One of Carrie’s boyfriends gave her the strangest present I ever saw. The young man presented her with a green, talking parrot. Now, this parrot didn’t just say “hello” and “goodbye”. This amazing parrot could mimic almost anyone. If that parrot listened to someone for a few minutes, he could say the same words and speak in almost exactly the same tone of voice.

Unfortunately, the parrot liked to make fun of my grandson, Darrell. The parrot particularly liked to mock the sound of Darrell crying. And Darrell cried often. Tears came because his mother, Lizzie gave him frequent spankings. Continue reading

Stimulate Appetites With a Spot of Red

This story, which took place when my son was around ten years old, lacks any substantial value. However, when the weather gets cold, I fondly recall an icy trip across Austin with two young boys who were on a swim team.

“Oh my goodness! I’m so stressed,” I told my husband after bringing our son and a teammate home from swimming practice. Traffic had been horrendous. Slick roads threatened safety and sleet and darkness impaired visibility. I felt particularly anxious knowing that the team member/young friend had been blind from birth.

Although I usually didn’t consume liquor, my husband demonstrated sympathy by fixing me a strong drink. “You need this,” he comforted. The first sip was disgusting. Amazingly, subsequent sips improved and by the time I finished the first glass, I wanted a second.

Feeling much more relaxed and pleasant, I started dinner. I explored the kitchen cabinets and refrigerator looking for possibilities. It seemed strange that everything I choose turned out to be the color red. “Red sauce helps almost every dish,” I reasoned. “Catsup improves the worst concoctions.” Leaning over the bar, I slung each dish Frisbee style onto our white table. Red spills began creeping across the table.

Happily I called the family to dinner. I still see their amazed faces staring at the red splashes of food. Everything tasted delicious so it surprised me that the family ate very little and left me contentedly devouring every dish by myself.Red Food

Honk Honk! Auntie Is Coming!

This morning, I share two family stories about our aunt, Maggie Montezuma Glover. Our Aunt Maggie played an important role in the lives of all the cousins growing up in the Glover family. In 1948, when my mother was dying of cancer, I went to live with Grandmother Glover and Aunt Maggie. During the time I lived with her, I began calling her Auntie. 

Honk, Honk — Auntie Is Coming (1950’s)

Glaucoma robbed our Aunt Maggie of one thing she loved to do – read. The loss of vision came on gradually and was hardly noticeable initially. At this time, Aunt Maggie was in her late sixties and early seventies. She felt good. She had places to go and people to see. Auntie had no intention of giving up driving. On no! It was up to the other drivers to take her declining vision into consideration. As Auntie neared an intersection, she began honking her horn. Once she arrived on the other side of the cross street she stopped honking.

Fortunately, Pecos was still small enough that most people recognized “Miss Maggie’s” car. Those sweet people watched for our Auntie and gave her the right of way whether she had it or not. In spite of driving legally blind, Miss Maggie never had a car accident.

Maggie Montezuma Glover (Dec. 1890 – 1967) Continue reading

Grandmother’s Voice in 1892: Burning Baby!

The following story comes from the voice and point of view of my grandmother as a young mother in East Texas. Grandmother Glover told this story as I sat on the floor beside her rocking chair. The story tells about a traumatic day in the life of Baby Preston who became Uncle Preston to me.

Grandmother’s Voice from 1892: Burning Baby!

On April 24, 1885, I married Willis Jackson Glover. My new husband owned a small farm in East Texas where we shared a roughly hewn wooden cabin. Two years after our wedding, Clyde, my first child was born. Maggie Montezuma followed three years later. By the time Elisha Preston arrived, Clyde was 5 years old and Maggie was a toddling 2-year old.

Grandmother Glover youngI cooked all meals in the open fireplace, which also served as our only source of heat. On a particular evening, Baby Preston slept fitfully in a cradle in front of the fire. Clyde and Maggie, who wanted to stay near the warmth of the fire, played near the sleeping baby.

Content that the three children were safe and warm, I stepped away to set the table for our evening meal. Almost as soon as my back turned, I heard a scream from the baby. I turned to see a stricken Clyde and Maggie. In the flames of the burning fire, lay the baby’s small head. In near panic, I scooped the baby up, snuffed out the fire, and smeared lard over the crown of his tiny head. Hours later, the baby continued to cry as my husband, Jack and I took turns walking with him.

Within a day or two, the baby’s pain subsided. Eventually, the burn healed. Unfortunately, fire destroyed hair follicles and Preston never grew hair on the crown of his head. Naturally, children teased him when he went to school. In time, Preston learned to laugh with the children as he shared the story of Baby Preston Burning Alive.

Mary Cordelia Couch Glover (Dec. 1, 1861 – Feb. 29, 1952)

Clyde (Feb. 1887 – 1906)

Maggie Montezuma Glover (Dec. 1890 – 1967)

Elisha Preston Glover (May 28, 1892 – 1972

Two West Texas Cowboys and Mother

Today, I want to deviate from my usual writing about literacy, behavior, dyslexia, or politics and share a family story. This story is for my wonderful cousin, Susanne Couch Flowers. 

Cousin JE Couch and Daddy — Two Good Old Cowboys

Even though the highway indicated that only six miles separated Barstow (where we lived before Mother died) and Pecos, it was a long, hot, slow trip. Going to the big city of Pecos to buy groceries was a big deal. Sacks and sacks of groceries to tote back to our rural community.

One afternoon, Daddy and I dropped Mother off at Leader Grocery in Pecos and we drove to Couch Hill. Even though I was disappointed that Susanne and Christy were not at home, I had a terrific time riding their big tricycle down the hill. I’d drag it up and then whiz back down. While I was playing, the two farmers/ranchers stood and talked. Continue reading