WIlliam Sylvester Skinner, Joseph Gustavus Watts, William Lauren Skinner, William Skinner Watts, Annie Townsend Skinner Watts, Clark Etheldred Watts, Barvel Haddox Watts
Photo taken in 1934. This was found in an envelope with the names of all those in the photo listed. Let this be a reminder to you, IF YOU HAVE PHOTOS, BE SURE TO INCLUDE THE NAMES OF PEOPLE IN THEM!
Family
New Scanner, New Photos
How exciting. I got my new scanner hooked up today. I should be working, but I just couldn’t resist taking a few minutes to play with it (it is, by the way, great so far).
Before and after retouching. This needs a good bit more retouching, but this was a fun start. Inscription on the back: Daddy and Phebe (Lollar’s Birmingham Jan 5, 1939) (My mother’s father and youngest sister.)
A Memorial To Mama
Above is a photo of the house Mama lived in all her life and the house that my five sisters and I grew up in. (this photo was taken last week–the same time as the photo of daffodils below)
This is the last photo I have of Mama, taken Christmas 2006 after everyone was gone home but Ann and me. We stayed and visited and watched Mama do her crossword–no one stopped her from completing her crossword every day. She firmly believed in exercise–both body and mind-and would do those crosswords every day as religiously as she would do her morning exercises in bed before getting up. I wish I had her tenacity.Here’s a link to the first photo of Mama that I know of: Mama as a child.
Here are some additional photos I have of Mama, taken between 2001 and 2006. www.joewatts.com/mama/
Memories of Old Times in Octagon
My mother, Inez Hinson Watts, was born on this day in 1924 (February 23, 1924). She would have been 84 years old today. And she would have been furious with me if she knew I put this video out, but I know she understands now and is glad I have it.
Both of these videos were filmed November 8, 2003. One of the few times we have used our video camera, Ann and I had the idea to just sit and talk with Mama and actively get her to tell us stories. I have several short videos including these two. In the first, Mama tells the story of Alan Harris and the washtub with a bullet hole.
In the second one, Building Fires, Mama tells the story of being a little girl and the cold winter. Her father, my grandfather, offered her $100 to build fires every morning. The video tells the rest of the story:
Families Sticking Together
I love old photos. I love old family photos, particularly. This is a photo from World War II of my Uncle Bud (my mother’s brother who died of lung cancer when I was very young). When I was younger, I didn’t really understand the importance of family. It seemed that friends were much more valuable. You could choose your friends, so, for the most part, they were most like you.
What I failed to understand was that friends come and go, but family is forever–or at least it should be. I put this photo of Uncle Bud here for a reason. His son, Nollie, has really proven that family is forever. When I was growing up, I hardly knew Nollie. Then, I went off to college and really lost touch with everyone in Marengo County other than my parents. In recent years, I’ve made some inroads back into the community. I probably know more people now than I did growing up.
I’m involved with www.alabamasfrontporches.com, the Ala-Tom RC&D, Clarke County Development Foundation and several other projects. I’m in the Black Belt at least once every couple of months working on something. And I always run into people who knew me when I was young–if they don’t know me, they certainly know some of my family. Mama would be pleased that I was getting back, at least a little, to my rural roots.
But business relationships aside, I have a stronger bond to family than I ever have before. I just can’t imagine going through life without a strong connection to my siblings. Having a place to go, to visit, to have Christmas and birthdays and just good times is key to this. Going home to Octagon has allowed me to connect to Nollie, It has given me a place to connect to my nieces and nephews and brother-in-laws. This tight bond would never exist without Octagon, the place that lets us all get together and be, well, a family.
Thoughts from the Woods
I’ve been thinking about home (Octagon, where I grew up) a lot lately. And yesterday I got a nice card from Ms. Florence Mooring, a neighbor from just down the road. The card had some a thick forest on the front and the following words:
“Those we have loved
Will live on in our
Hearts and memories.
Thinking of you.”
Ms. Florence added her own:“This isn’t a sympathy card. I like the verse and the trees just reminded me of you and your Mama walking in the woods and love of nature. You have so many happy memories as do we. They have to overshadow the sorrow.”
I love those woods. I spent many, many happy days walking in them. Mama and I would go for long walks (mainly behind the house, but I also loved walking in the “Swamp.” We would often walk behind the house and find a cozy log to sit on and read a book. I’d sometimes be too tired to walk all the way home and Mama would carry me, a feat I’m still amazed by as, though she was young to me, she was pretty much older compared to all of my classmates mothers (she had taught some of them and others were friends with my sisters).
Mama was born with lots of patience, it seems. She never complained that I wanted to go sit in the woods and eat military rations (Spam was amazingly good compared to the stuff that they served GI’s back in those days). We’d go sit in the barn if it was raining and I’d get to play Army–this phase might have gone on a little longer than it should have and I was perhaps a bit overindulged, but what a great childhood!
I look forward to the day when my sisters’ children can take their children into those woods and enjoy the same kind of peace and beauty that I so love. Those woods are a special place in all of our hearts. I can really feel Mama sitting on a log in the “Big Woods,” getting ready to read me a story.
After the story, we’d often nap (or at least Mama would). I might nap or watch the squirrels climb around in the scaly bark trees and pretend. Later, I became pretty adept at building shelters–I learned how from a Hardy Boys book. Those were some of the best times in my life.