A Long Way from Clearwater

By Dale McMillan

"In 1924, George and Ike Simmons lived just three hundred yards apart
physically, but economically, socially, and racially they were separated by a vast
chasm of racial prejudice. George is from a wealthy, former plantation family.
Ike is the son of the domestic help at the big house. Can their families
overcome racial barriers to develop lifelong friendships? Family tragedy,
courage, faith, honor and a servants heart in both men leaves an interesting
trail. Marrying the right women turns out to be a very important key."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 17, 2010
• ISBN: 9781456837389

Dale McMillan

Dale McMillan retired from a long career in the petrochemical industry. After building a home, shop, three barns, and restoring a log cabin built originally in 1854, he tried his hand at writing fiction at age 67. He has written 17 other books since that first release. He lives on a small sand hill farm just outside Henderson, Texas with his invalid wife, Janell and two dogs, Marcie and Sherlock.

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Copyright © 2011 by Dale McMillan.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2010918852

ISBN: Hardcover    978-1-4568-3737-2

ISBN: Softcover      978-1-4568-3736-5

ISBN: Ebook           978-1-4568-3738-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

PROLOGUE

Dec. 14, 1986

Dear Sunni,

I am happy that you are interested in learning about our family history. In response to your request, I have included the attached document so that you might learn of your rich heritage.

The information I have recorded was gathered from interviews with Mom, Dad, Mary Jo, your father, grandmother Marie, aunt Mamie, Woodrow, Brother Zeke, Ike, Emma, and John II. Many others who lived and worked on our farms while I was growing up and other friends from Clearwater County added information to this document.

I have great regrets that I was too young to recognize the wealth of information that was lost when Uncle Booker T. died, and I did not get that recorded for our future generations, although Artie did record some of his thoughts.

You will notice that I took journalist liberty and imagined the thoughts of those who could not possibly be interviewed. While these are my thoughts alone, it is my hope they may be close to accurate, and this endeavor to recreate the unknown will not diminish the historical accuracy of this record, but will make the narrative more interesting.

As you will see, I have tried to record the good along with the bad. All families have difficulties from time to time, and that is what molds our lives and shapes our character. Some of the material that I solicited from friends has been so flattering that I hesitated to use it, but because of my vanity, I allowed it to remain in the document.

It is my greatest desire that you will enjoy this writing and will grow in your appreciation of our family.

Love,

Aunt Margaret

CHAPTER 1

Jeremiah Polk moved his young family to an Applewhite farm in the fall of 1927. Although he was on the waiting list for a Simmons’s farm, his first preference, Jeremiah took the Applewhite farm when it became available. . Tenants did not leave once they were part of the Simmons clan, so with his young family to provide for, Jeremiah could not be picky and wait. The first Sunday they were at their new farm, Jeremiah and his wife, Anna Bell—along with their four-year-old daughter Emma, two-year-old Mary Lou, and six-month-old Matthew—attended the little Church of God about one-half mile down the road from the Simmons’s mansion. They knew at once they had found a home. Brother Zeke Willis was the pastor, and his warmth and friendliness were magnetic, drawing his small congregation to him like an iron filing to a bar magnet.

Big Ike Simmons attended this church also, along with his mother and father, Lou and Big John, grandmother Mamie, sister Artie, and baby brother Jim. When the Polks visited that first Sunday, six-year-old Ike noticed Emma. From that day forward, he continued to watch her during their growing-up years. His only opportunity to see her was at church and occasionally at school. He could not keep his eyes off her even though when the opportunity presented itself. It was hard for him to concentrate on what the preacher said because he was always looking at Emma. He loved to watch her sing—she sang with such enthusiasm, her dimples accentuated, and her voice lifting his heart to the gates of heaven. From the time she was four and her parents first came to church, he thought she was the prettiest little girl he had ever seen. He was six at the time and much too old for her; but now, he was eighteen, almost nineteen, and she was sixteen, and would-be seventeen in a week. This age difference seemed about right to him.

Emma knew that Big Ike watched her. She would look at him, but he would quickly look away, and he was so shy he never talked to her other than to say hi. This frustrated Emma since she really liked him better than any of the other boys at church. However, she never lacked for attention. Boys flocked around her vying for her affection—but somehow, they did not measure up to Ike. She knew Ike was strong, and she felt that even the white folks respected him for his honesty, work ethic, and sheer strength. The truth of the matter was all of Emma’s dreams of marriage included Ike.

Ike had grown up to be a big man. His daddy gave him the name Big Ike when he was born. At birth he was a big baby; his daddy guessed his weight to be ten or eleven pounds. He was born at home, and his family did not have a scale. He never stopped growing, and he was now over six feet tall, but the thought of measuring his height had never occurred to him. That just didn’t seem important because to him that was just the way he was. Hard work had developed his broad shoulders, and his arms were huge. He had the strength of at least two normal men and could hoist a hundred-pound sack of feed on his shoulder as though it were a ten-pound bag of cotton. He worked for Mr. Simmons as his father had before him. Mr. Simmons was not a bad man, but in today’s culture, he would probably be considered a racist because he secretly felt that black people were inferior, although he always treated them with dignity. He simply did not know any other way, growing up in a small Mississippi town in the twenties and thirties. Mr. Simmons’s great-granddaddy had been a plantation owner who kept slaves, and his daddy continued on in the same Southern tradition of superiority. The Civil War divided the races causing intense bitterness on both sides of the racial issue. Ike’s great-grandfather had chosen to stay on and work for the Simmonses after emancipation, and in some ways, in the Simmons’s mind, they still owned Ike and his family. When the slaves first came to the farm, they were given the Simmons’s last name to denote that they belonged to the Simmonses. Ike’s daddy had hoped that he would be the one in their family to break the cycle of working for meager wages in a subservient status and move out into the white man’s world with dignity. Big John heard Dr. George Washington Carver speak once and was inspired that education and hard work were the answer to the black man’s plight. Big John and Ike’s mother, Lou, held high hopes for him and were saving as much as they could for his education.

A sweet gum tree ended all their hopes. Ike’s dad told Mr. Simmons it was too windy to try to cut the tree down, but Mr. Simmons insisted. Ike and his dad sawed the tree with a crosscut saw and were almost all the way through, but because of the high wind, the tree broke, twisted on the stump, taking a nasty turn in Big John’s direction. He tripped on a root and fell as he scrambled to move away from the tree. The tree caught on a grapevine, twisted again, and Big John had rolled the wrong way. The tree came crashing down on him. Ike frantically dug his daddy out with his bare hands, tearing the flesh as he struck roots and rocks in the soil. Ike and Mr. Simmons put Big John in the back of Mr. Simmons’s truck. Ike cradled his head in his lap, but Big John’s injuries were just too severe.

Big John looked at Ike and said, I loves you son. You takes care of yo Mama and de babies, and then he lost consciousness.

When they arrived at the hospital, he was dead. Mr. Simmons broke down and cried. Ike had never seen a white man cry.

Mr. Simmons placed his arm around Ike and gushed, I am sorry, son. I am so sorry.

A white man had never touched Ike, but Mr. Simmons just seemed like a friend at this point. He didn’t seem like a white man. Mr. Simmons noticed that Ike’s hands were bleeding, so he had the nurse in the emergency room clean and treat them.

Ike was in the fourth grade at this time, and his education ended there. Since he was the oldest child, in his mind, the job of making a living for the family fell on his shoulders. His mother continued to work at the big house for Mis’ Chassity, but Ike went to work around the farm and at Mr. Simmons’s cotton gin and warehouse. To Mr. Simmons credit, there was always plenty of food. He always raised extra hogs, planted extra peas, beans, corn, greens, and squash to share with Ike’s family; plus, they had their own garden. A staple in their diet was sweet potatoes. They were baked, boiled, fried, and also used for pies. George Simmons was always careful that Ike’s family had a good milk cow, so there was plenty of milk and butter. It had been Ike’s job to milk twice per day since he was eight. They did not have much money, but realistically, the only things they needed from town were flour, a few clothes, shoes, and white sugar on occasion. Mr. Simmons had a syrup mill, and there was always ribbon cane syrup. Ribbon cane crystallizes into rock candy on the inside of the container, and the crystals were harvested and used for sugar. Mr. Simmons always kept the family’s syrup barrel filled. In fact, Mr. Simmons seemed to take a special interest in Ike, and his family after his daddy was killed; it was obvious that he blamed himself for Big John’s death.

Their house was about two hundred yards behind the Simmons’s mansion. It was a nice tenant house, and unlike most tenant houses in Mississippi at this time, the Simmonses always required that everything be kept painted. They seemed to have a hang-up about paint. This all started with Mr. Simmons father, Mr. Alex. Mr. Alex wanted everything painted, and even the trees were kept whitewashed around the base and up about five feet. Whitewash was made using a mixture of slacked lime and water. Mr. Alex thought this kept down roaches and other insect infestation in the bark, so he required that the trees around all his tenant houses be whitewashed also. Everything at the mansion was whitewashed—fence posts, gates, buildings. Ike always kidded, If it don’t move, you whitewash it.

Ike’s grandmother—Aunt Mamie, as everyone called her—and Ike’s mother, Lou, were responsible for all the cooking and housekeeping at the Simmons’s mansion. Ike would always remember when Mr. Simmons brought him to the mansion the day his daddy was killed. He told his mother and grandmother what happened and they wept, but his grandmother seemed to be very concerned about Mr. Simmons. He wept also, and his grandmother cradled him like a child and called him little George, saying over and over, Little George, huny, don’t ju go blaming yoself. Mr. Simmons always called his grandmother Aunt Mamie and Ike sensed a bond of affection between them that he did not understand.

Ike was a little disappointed that Mr. Simmons did not ask him to be a sharecropper and take over one of the farms. Parts of the Simmons’s estate were broken up into two hundred—to three-hundred-acre sections of land with a tenant house on each. Each tenant farmed the land for a portion of the crop. Little money was exchanged until harvest time. Mr. Simmons provided all the seed and fertilizer and even the teams of horses and mules; however, most of the teams were being replaced with tractors. Each farm was provided a large farm wagon or trailer.

Ike worked for wages. He had mixed feelings about this since Mr. Simmons steadily increased his salary as he had grown up, and he was given more and more responsibility. Ike felt that he could do a good job farming on his own, and he felt that most of the tenants really did not do as well as they should with their farm, especially with the provisions made for them. Mr. Simmons had to constantly supervise tenants and admonish them to keep their house and yard clean. None of the Simmonses ever allowed trashy tenant houses, and George was more strict than his father had been, constantly complaining to Ike about lazy tenants. He would suggest that Ike let tenants know that Mr. Simmons was thinking about running them off if they did not clean up the place. This generally worked since it was considered to an honor to live and work on a Simmons’s farm, and Simmons’s tenant farmers were not anxious to leave. Ike felt that with the new tractors they were provided, he could farm two farms with no trouble and increase the yield. He and Mr. Simmons had talked about crop rotation and allowing sections to lie fallow for a year to give the land rest. He knew this was in the Bible from one of Brother Zeke’s sermons.

Ike hinted at this to Mr. Simmons, but he said, Ike, I need you too much to let you take over a farm. You are my right hand.

He knew he should be happy since he was one of the few black people in the county with a bank account. Mr. Simmons showed him how to set up a savings account, and it was slowly building. He got monthly statements from the bank, which always gave him a feeling of pride when he looked at his savings.

*     *     *

The first Sunday morning in April in 1939, Ike was up early. He asked his Mama to iron the white shirt she made for him out of flour sacks. Flour sacks had a tight weave, with a thread count of three hundred or more threads per inch. Garments made from flour sacks looked almost like silk when they were boiled with lye soap in a wash pot and then starched and ironed really stiff. Lou was watching Ike and knew something was up. She suspected but did not mention his unusual behavior. She knew that he was doing extra work for Mr. Simmons for a little five-acre tract of land. The parcel of land was across the creek from the main part of the Simmons’s property behind the tenant house where he and his family lived. It was essentially worthless to Mr. Simmons since you had to cross the creek to get to it. To reach the property with a team or tractor, one had to go almost a mile around, cross a bridge on the county road, and come in the back side of the property. The old creek bed was almost impassable during wet weather. The little plot was created when a large bend in the meandering creek that flowed at the edge of the Simmons’s property was cut off when the creek sought a new path during a heavy rainstorm. After the rains subsided, the creek had simply cut across the bend and created a new path leaving the section of land.

Lou, Ike’s mother, was surprised that Mr. Simmons let Ike have the property, gave him the title to it, and instructed him about how to pay the taxes. She was in the yard the day Mr. Simmons brought the title to Ike and heard him explain about homestead exemptions and that sort of thing. He told Ike that he had already filed for the exemption for him and that he would not have to do that, but he did need to come to the bank, sign some papers, and then take the title to the courthouse. He told Ike to ask for Mrs. Johnson in the tax office. He said that she knew he was coming in to file the paperwork on the property. Ike reported back to Lou that Mrs. Johnson was very nice to him and explained everything carefully.

He said, With the homestead and agicultul zemption, I will have to pay fifteen dollars for taxes come next January.

Lou’s heart had been thrilled with the thought, My boy actually owns land and is gonna pay taxes.

Mr. Simmons drove Ike to the tax office but did not go in with him. He waited for him in the truck. Ike was proud that he was able to do this, and it made him feel like a man.

On their way home from the tax office, George Simmons reached in the glove compartment of the pickup truck and pulled out a book.

He said, Ike, take this home and study it. It’s a manual used to study for a driver’s test. If there is anyt3hing you do not understand or cannot read, I will help you with it. Do you think you can read it?

Ike looked through it and only saw a few words he did not know.

He answered, Mr. George, I thinks I can read it.

That was all that was said about the book, but a few days later, Mr. Simmons asked him if he was ready to take the test for his driver’s license. He answered, Yes, suh. So George got him behind the wheel of the pickup truck and had him practice driving. Ike had been driving an old Fordson tractor around the farm since he was old enough to reach the clutch and brake, so learning to drive the truck was no problem. The only thing that caused trouble was parallel parking, but he soon mastered that. George warned him about cutting corners short.

George admonished, Ike, they watch that. That is one of their hang-ups. Make sure you make a big swing when you turn the corner.

When Ike went to take his driver’s test, it was evident the patrolman did not like the idea of a black boy taking the test, but Mr. Simmons got very close to his face and told him he needed Ike to drive his pickup. The patrolman backed down. Ike noticed that when Mr. Simmons made a suggestion in Clearwater, folks listened. In many ways it was a comfortable position to be in, being Mr. Simmons’s friend.

*     *     *

Ike worked constantly to clear the five acres he purchased from Mr. Simmons for several months, and everyone knew he was building something on what he liked to call my land. The only opportunity he had time to work was on Saturday afternoon. Mr. Simmons let all his hands off at noon on Saturday so they could go to town. Most of the young men liked to spend Saturday night in the dance halls. They generally spent most of their week’s pay, and this kept them coming back to work on Monday morning. Some even had to borrow against their wages or crops to buy groceries. But Ike never went into town except to work or buy groceries or clothes. Lately, Mr. Simmons told him to take off all day Saturday since he knew he was working hard on his place. Generally, he and Mr. Simmons just played around on Saturday mornings anyhow doing odd jobs around the farm. The warehouse was open, but people were hired to take care of it. He and Ike sometimes went in on Saturday morning, but sometimes, they slipped off and went fishing. Mr. Simmons paid him just like he was working, and this bothered Ike. He was paid by the month rather than by the hour like most of the other Simmons’s employees who worked for hourly wages.

Yesterday, Saturday afternoon, Ike asked Lou to come over to his land. He said he had something he wanted to show her. Ike had cut down two large trees, and he somehow managed to get them across the creek as stringers for a bridge. He found enough scrap lumber to nail to the stringers and built a bridge across the creek. Lou was very impressed with the bridge. It even had a handrail. However, she was amazed when she entered a clearing and saw a new log cabin. She was aware he was building some type of house, but had no idea how large it was. She thought he was just building a little place so he could start to move out on his own. This was a good-size cabin—three rooms, a kitchen, a bedroom, and a living room. Complete with a brand-new tin roof on it. Lou became alarmed.

She turned to Ike and asked, Boy, where did you git dat tin?

Ike chastened Lou with his look, saying, Mr. Simmons bought it for me.

Now why would he do dat?

Well, you ‘member the night that Mr. Simmons wanted me to go somewhere wiff ‘em?

Yes, and ju wouldn’t tells me where you went. Ju said it was men’s binnes.

Well, there was dis tent show in town. They had a bear dat wrestled. Mr. Simmons had a bet with Mr. Applewhite that I could whup dat ole bear. They bet lotsa money. Mr. Simmons told me he would buy me anything I wanted up to a hunnert dollar if I could whup dat bear. He don’t like Mr. Applewhite a bit, and he wanted to show him up. Well, I whupped dat po’ ole bear, and he bought me dis tin. Had it delivered right out to dat back fence down by the road.

Lou was visibly shaken, Boy, you didn’t git in no ring wid no bear did ju?

Yesum. I felt sorry for the po’ ole thang. I jes picked him up and throwed him down on his back. Dey had a muzzle on his mouth and gloves on his paws. Po’ ole thang weren’t fightin’ in his normal mannuh. I felt like I was taking ‘vantage of ‘em. Ole bear got pretty mad when I th’owed him. Ole man ‘at owned him had to git in the ring and git between us. We wuz fixin’ to fight. He declared me de winner and Mr. Applewhite had to pay off.

Lou put her hands on her hips, looked Ike in the eye. Boy, you is crazy. I ought to turn you over my knee and whup you.

Ike smiled. Yes, um, Mama.

Lou looked at the cabin bursting with pride at what Ike had done. She asked, Where did you git all des winders and do’s?

Do you ‘member when I helped Mr. Simmons tear down dat old building at the cotton gin when he built the new brick office? He giv’ ‘em to me; hauled ‘em right out to the fence on his truck. Got enough lumber for the ceiling and floor and had enough leftover for an outhouse.

Lou looked at him. Boy, don’t you go gittin’ citified on me.

This statement elicited a big laugh from both.

Lou turned an affectionate look at Ike and asked, Son, do dis mean you is thinking ‘bout nesting?

Ike lowered his eyes, shuffled his feet, and smiled. Might be, Mama, might be.

Lou did not ask who the lucky girl might be. She simply smiled.

*     *     *

So Ike put on his white shirt and pleated dress pants with a wide cuff. He stacked shoe polish on his shoes to try to cover the scuffs, and they looked pretty good. He bought a new pair of socks for the occasion.

Lou looked at him and commented, Boy, you is downright purty.

His little sister Artie giggled, but his brother Jim only smiled. Big Ike was an open book, and everyone in the family could read his mind. He could not keep any secrets from his family; he was just too honest and open.

The walk to church that morning was brisk, with Ike setting the pace. Normally at this time of year, the family always commented on the beautiful wildflowers that were growing in little hidden places most of the world did not see: in the crevice of tree roots, peeking out from under an old rotted log or nestled by a fence post. Violets were plentiful this time of year, and they were prolific along Simmons Creek. Dogwoods, redbud, and all the haw trees were in bloom. But today, Ike did not see flowers. Lou called out several times for him to slow down. He tried, but his feet simply wanted to move.

His grandmother, Mamie, finally called out, Ike, ju gonna kills dis old woman if you don’t slow down.

Aunt Mamie was a jolly woman, about 150 pounds overweight, and she waddled rather than walked. When she spoke, Ike slowed down.

*     *     *

When they got to church, Emma was already there with a circle of boys around her making wisecracks and vying for her attention.

Ike walked right up and said to her, Emma, could I speak to you private like?

Certainly, Ike.

Ike turned and walked to the big red oak tree in the churchyard. Emma followed. When he turned around and looked at her, she could see nothing but eyes filled with love and affection. She looked deeply into his very soul.

He said in a choked voice, Emmy, would you sit with me today and let me walk you home after church?

Emma’s eyes dilated, and she almost cried, but she was able to get out, ‘Course I will.

Ike crooked his arm, Emma slid her hand through, and they walked into church together. Emma sat down beside Lou, and they both smiled at each other. Pastor Zeke was sitting on the podium. When he saw this, he smiled a big smile at the young couple, his mind just went blank, and he totally lost his train of thought. This new development was a total shock to him, and he did not have a clue what he was going to say when he got up to preach.

The little congregation sang a few songs with old Eli leading—he had a cracked voice, but he carried a tune really well. He sang with much zest and enthusiasm and could really get the congregation moving. All too soon for Brother Zeke, it was time for him to deliver his sermon. He stood up and walked to the little homemade pulpit, smiled at the congregation, and opened his Bible to Proverbs 31.

Brother Zeke began to read from his tattered and worn Bible,

Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil. She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life. She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands. She is like the merchants’ ships; she bringeth her food from afar. She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens. She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard.

She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms. She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night. She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff. She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy. She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet. She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple. Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land. She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant. Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come. She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her. Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all. Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised.

Brother Zeke closed his Bible, looked at his little congregation, and began to expound on the scriptures he had just read. A quiet reverence had fallen on the little gathering as he read, but soon, as he brought the scriptures to life with his comments, a vibrant enthusiasm eluded from the congregation, and amens were heard all around. Singing broke out all over, accompanied by clapping of the hands to the music. There was no formal tune to follow, but the rhythm and harmony were set by whoever decided to lead. The singing slowly died away, and as is often in the traditions of Black Church of God churches, as the singing stopped, Brother Zeke again began to preach. With the preaching and singing alternating, the service lasted about one and one-half hours.

*     *     *

Enthusiasm and the spirit were high in the congregation; and lots of smiles, grins, and snickers were passed in Ike and Emma’s direction after the service ended. Emma took Ike’s arm, and they moved out of the church building. Brother Zeke greeted them at the door with a big smile, but all he could say was, The Lawd bless you chil’ren. That was enough because that blessing signified his approval of their new relationship.

Emma’s mama was thinking all during church, Do I have enough food fixed to ask that boy to dinner?

As soon as the service was over, she whispered to Emma’s daddy, You reckon we got enough food to ask that boy to eat with us?

Emma’s daddy broke out in laughter and said, It ain’t gonna take no food for them two cause da ain’t gonna be hungry nohow.

Anna Bell, Emma’s mother, laughed and replied, You’s probably right, poppa.

She found Emma and Ike and invited Ike to dinner.

Ike replied, Thank you, ma’am, I’d be happy to. I’ll haft to tell Mama.

Everyone left the church happy that day except four young men who knew their chances with Emma were ended.

The church was actually on the Simmons’s farm, but Mr. Simmons father deeded two acres to the church for their building. The church members built the building. Mr. Simmons senior had the materials delivered to build the building, and they paid him back for the materials as donations came in. It had been eighteen years since they had built the building. Ike’s dad, Big John, had done much of the work. It was a nice building and one of the few painted black churches in the area. Mr. Simmons insisted that it be painted and donated the paint. The deed stated that if they did not maintain the building, it would revert to him. Although they lacked $150 of the original $800 note having the building note paid, Mr. Simmons’s son, George, decided to mark the note paid in full. As they left the church that morning, Mr. Simmons and Mis’ Chassity and their girls, Margaret Ann and Mary Jo, stopped on their way home. Mr. Simmons got out of the car and walked over to Brother Zeke.

Brother Zeke, I intended to get this to you before your service this morning, but I could not get Chassity and the girls out of the house in time.

He handed the note to Brother Zeke. Tears welled up in the pastor’s eyes. Lawd bless you, Mr. George. You been awful good to us.

And the Lord bless you and your folks, Brother Zeke. You have earned it.

Mr. Simmons turned and walked back to his car.

Most of the members lived within walking distance of the church. Some who lived farthest from the church came in farm wagons, especially in bad weather. There was a shed behind the church made of scrap tin. It was used to stable the horses when the weather was cold and raining. This had been Big John’s idea. He did not like to see the animals suffer in cold weather.

Ike with Emma’s arm still around his, walked over to Lou, and Ike asked, Mama, it bees all right if I takes dinner with Emmy’s fambly?

Lou smiled at her big son and replied, That be fine, son. You mind yo mannahs.

She did not know why she said that; she just felt it was something a mother should say. She knew that Ike was always polite and respectful.

Ike understood all this, and he replied, Yessum, Mama.

Lou reached out and hugged Emma. As they walked away, Lou realized that her son was grown now; and as hard as it was going to be, the apron strings must be cut. She knew that Ike would always look after her and take care of her, but she knew also that another woman was very much a part of his life. She already loved Emmy and could not have been happier about his choice.

*     *     *

Emma’s Mama worked for Mrs. Applewhite like Lou, Ike’s Mama, worked for Mis’ Chassity. The Applewhites and Simmonses were the two most successful farmers in the area, competing for the first onions in the spring, the first ripe tomatoes, the biggest watermelons, most cotton and corn per acre. They were fierce competitors for wealth and status in the community. In addition to their farm operations, Mr. Simmons owned the John Deere farm implement dealership in Clearwater, and Mr. Applewhite had the Farmall dealership. Mr. Simmons bought an interest in the Ford dealership, and Mr. Applewhite bought an interest in the Chevrolet dealership, but this is not why Mr. Simmons did not like WO Applewhite. WO tried to win Mis’ Chassity away from Mr. Simmons when they were younger. Mis’ Chassity, when she became angry with George, liked to remind him that she could have married WO Applewhite. Although the relationship between George and WO had been better since Chassity and George were married, George’s anger at WO always flared up when Chassity pulled this stunt. They were close friends as boys, but when WO took Mis’ Chassity out, after one of her frequent spats with Mr. Simmons, their friendship ended. Ike knew all this and wondered how Mr. Simmons was going to take his affection for Emma. He felt that George Simmons did not like anything associated with WO Applewhite, but today, Ike was not concerned with what Mr. Simmons might think—he was a man with a mission.

*     *     *

Ike and Mr. Polk sat down on the porch while Anna Bell, Emma, and her sister, Mary Lou got the table prepared. Jeremiah Polk was a shy little man, a good honorable and honest man, and Ike knew he was a good provider for his family. Ike respected Mr. Polk and felt a warm affection for him. Big John once said that Mr. Polk was one of the best men he had ever known, and that statement stuck in Ike’s mind. Jeremiah and Ike’s conversation consisted of Have you planted corn yet? We sure need rain. Do you like that new tractor? Ike’s answers were mostly yessir and nossir. To both men’s relief, Emma came to the door and called them to dinner.

Mrs. Pope cooked her dinner before church. All that was necessary was to warm the food a bit. She had cooked chicken and dumplings; she gathered poke salad and had that cooked. There were always field peas of some form on the table in most homes. She also cooked a big pan of corn bread. For dessert, Anna Bell had Ike’s favorite, sweet potato pie. Ike took small helpings of each entrée. He left a tiny bit on his plate when he finished as his mama had taught him.

Lou had told him, If you are eatin’ at somebody else’s house, you always leave a little on your plate to show that you enjoyed your meal, but you has had enough.

It was hard to leave that bite of dumplings on his plate because they were really good. He remarked that he loved chicken and dumplings and how good they were.

Mrs. Polk said, Why, thank you, Ike, but I can’t take credit for the dumplings. Emma made those.

Ike looked at Emma in mock amazement and commented, Really, you mean that girl can cook?

Everyone laughed, especially Emma’s little brother and her sister. Matthew teased, We generally don’t git too sick when Emma cooks.

Emma reached over and conked him on the head. There was another big laugh all around the table. Anna Bell brought out the sweet potato pie and cut it into six pieces. They quickly devoured it.

Anna Bell spoke to Emma’s sister, Mary Lou, Girl, you help me with the dishes, and we will let Emma visit with Ike.

Emma protested weakly, but was soon persuaded to visit with her guest. Ike stood and bowed slightly to Mrs. Polk and told her how much he enjoyed the meal and how good it was. Emma and Ike moved outside to a tire swing in the yard. It was a warm, balmy spring day, but not oppressively warm. The swing consisted of an old tire with a rope tied to it, and the rope was attached to a limb in a big red oak tree. Ike helped Emma into the tire and gently began to push her in the swing.

They did not speak for several minutes; then Ike began, Emma, I have something I wonts to talk real serious to you about.

She stopped the swing and replied, All right, Ike. She thought he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend.

Ike began, Now, I know this is going to be sudden like, but will you be my wife?

Emma almost fainted. Ike’s question took her breath away.

She finally gushed, Ike, you are crazy! You don’t even know me!

Emmy, I knows everything about you. I have memorized every line in your face, every dimple, every hair on your head. I have loved you since that first day your folks brought you to church. You had on that little pale green dress with the tiny red flowers in it. I heard yo mama tell my mama that she made it out of a chicken feed sack.

Then Ike proceeded to tell Emma that he knew every new dress that she had worn, and he began to describe them in detail.

He continued, Then at about thirteen, you begin to fill out and I begin to realize you weren’t just a girl anymore, that you were becoming a young lady. Last week at church, I heard someone say you would-be seventeen next Sadday. I said then, ‘It’s about time before you falls for one of them other boys.’

Emma could see clearly that Ike was laying his very soul bare before her. She had to admit that she knew Ike very well also. She wept when Big John was killed and cried herself to sleep for a month when Ike dropped out of school. Everyone at school knew that Ike was smart and a good student. She had seen Ike silently and, without complaining, shoulder the responsibility of the family when he was eleven years old. She also heard people talk about how quickly he learned the machinery at the cotton gin and how much Mr. Simmons depended on him. She had to admit that she had loved Ike for a long time also.

Ike went on, I know I still have to help support Mama. I promised my daddy that I would take care of her, but Mr. Simmons pays me good and gives me extra work, and we always has plenty to eat.

Emma finally answered, Ike, when did you want to get married?

Next Sadday night.

Emma jumped out of the swing and looked at Ike and admonished, Ike, I can’t possibly be ready by next Saturday. I have to make a dress. I have to make some plans . . . Ike, you rushing me!

Ike looked at his shoes, then lifted his head, and looked squarely in Emma’s eyes and quietly stated, Honey, I don’t mean to rush you. I just loves you so much. You set the time, and I will be ready.

Emma thought for a long time and then looked at Ike. She answered, Ike, I graduate from high school in just a little over a month. I want to wait until I graduate. I am the first person in my family to graduate.

I forgot about school. I want you to graduate and then you can teach me. We will get married as soon as you graduate.

Emma remarked, You better go ask Papa.

Ike and Emma walked to the house. They found Emma’s daddy dozing on his rocking chair. He had been reading his Bible, but now he was asleep in the chair. The boards in the floor creaked as Ike and Emma walked in and that woke him up. Ike apologized for waking him. Jeremiah assured Ike that he had not intended to go to sleep.

Sleeping during the day ruins my rest at night.

Ike shuffled his feet, not knowing quite where to start. Finally, he sort of blurted out, Mr. Polk, Emmy and I have something we would like to discuss with you and Mrs. Polk.

Anna Bell had come into the room. Mr. Polk instructed, Well, you children sit down, and we will talk.

When they were all seated, Mr. Polk looked at Ike, smiled, and asked, Now, son, what did you want to talk to us about? thinking that Ike was going to ask if he could start taking Emmy out.

Ike cleared his throat and, in a high-pitched voice, said, Well, Mr. Polk, Me and Emma thinkin’ ‘bout gittin’ married.

Anna Bell and Mr. Polk both came straight up out of their chairs. Anna Bell practically screamed, Married! What you talkin’ ‘bout? You ain’t even been to socials together nor nothing. How can you be talking ‘bout gittin’ married?

Emma’s eyes were huge, and she was trembling; Ike got up and knelt beside her and put his arm around her. She began to cry and put her head on his shoulder. Ike stood his ground and replied, We loves one another, and we wonts to get married.

Mr. Polk put his arm around Mrs. Polk and said in a calm-soothing voice, Now calm down, Mama. Let’s talk this through.

He looked at Ike and Emma. Now, children, this has come as a big surprise to us. We had no idea you were planning to git married.

Thinking that this was a spur-of-the-moment thing, he asked Ike, Where do you plan to live, son?

He thought this would catch Ike off guard. However, Ike stood up, holding on to Emma’s hand, looked Mr. Polk in the eye, and replied, Sir, I got me a new house.

Both parents exclaimed simultaneously, A new house!

Ike replied, Yes, sir, built it myself on that five acres acrost ‘de creek that I bought from Mr. Simmons.

This statement took Mr. and Mrs. Polk back. They became very aware of the simple fact: this was a serious young man who thought things through, made his plans, and then acted on them.

Mrs. Polk went to her daughter and placed her arms around her. Honey, do you know this boy well enough to be thinkin’ ‘bout marrying him?

Emma looked at her mother and answered, Mama, I have loved Ike since I was four years old. I still remember how he smiled at me the first time we went to church.

Mrs. Polk looked deep into her daughter’s eyes and asked, When you planin’ this wedding?

Glancing at her mother, Emma replied, When school is out.

Mrs. Polk sighed. Law me, we got lots of gittin’ ready to do.

From this statement, and since Mr. Polk did not raise an objection, it was apparent to all that the family agreed to the marriage. Mr. Polk extended his hand to Ike, and Ike grabbed it. Ike was strong as an ox and Mr. Polk was glad when he let it go. Emma and her mother put their heads together, left the room, and began making plans. Mr. Polk began to ask Ike about his house. Ike went into detail explaining how he cut the logs, how he studied the logs in the old slave quarters, and how they were cut to fit together. He related that he had copied them. He told about wrestling the bear to get the money for the tin.

Mr. Polk burst into laughter over this and remarked, Mr. Applewhite and Mr. Simmons will do anything to git at one another. Who would have thought they would bet on you wrestling a bear?

Ike also told of getting the windows and doors from the old office at the cotton gin. Mr. Polk was impressed with Ike’s resourcefulness.

Emma came back in the room and put her arm around Ike and asked, May I see the house? I can’t wait to see what you have done.

Ike replied, If it be all right with your folks, and in the same sentence, he added, We gonna haft to stop by and tell Mama. She gonna faint.

They all laughed, and Mrs. Polk stated, Well, I can sympathize with her.

As Ike and Emma left, Ike commented, I’ll have her home fo’ dark.

CHAPTER 2

George Simmons and Chassity McClusky had a stormy courtship as they were growing up. Chassity was a redhead, a real knockout, and she knew it. She was a wannabe Southern belle, but as the daughter of an Irish immigrant, she did not qualify for that status in a small Mississippi town, and this was cause for great frustration. Her mock Southern drawl with an Irish twist was attractive, though amusing. Her daddy ran a dry goods store in Clearwater, and she considered herself high on the social register, although many of the blue bloods did not agree. She had a fiery temper and could explode at the drop of the hat. She and George dated in high school, and they went to Mississippi State together. Chassity was kicked out her first semester for smoking and did not go back. She did not like to smoke, but she had to try everything that gets one in trouble. George was very angry with her over this. She went to a little business college in Clearwater instead, and after she finished Business College, she kept books for her father. She had a very sharp mind and was a whiz at math and anything scientific. She and George married in the fall after he finished college. George had gone straight through college, summer, winter and fall with no breaks and finished at the young age of twenty-one, although he seemed much older because of his maturity.

George was a quiet man. He lived on a large farm, five miles from Clearwater. Chassity thought this to be out in the sticks and could not see how she could ever live out in that wilderness. However, several things about George were irresistible to Chassity McClusky. He had a distinguished air about him and a dignity that Chassity respected. He came from an old-line Southern family who were plantation owners before the Civil War. That too had an appeal to Chassity, but one overwhelming fact that was irresistible to her was that his family was rich. This bothered Chassity; that this was important to her, and she tried to put it in the back of her mind, but her family had always been outsiders in this little Southern town. She was well aware that her family would not have made it in business if it had not been for George’s father. Her grandfather was a peddler, and he went to Alex Simmons and received permission to peddle to the tenant farmers on the Simmons’s farms. Mr. Simmons told him it would be okay if he treated them honestly. The tenants did not really like to go into town during that era. The Ku Klux Klan was still active, and they did not like to leave the farm. The KKK did not dare come on Simmons property. Alex hated the Klan with a passion and knew many of the people who were members. They would cross to the other side of the street when they saw Alex coming.

Only a couple of people in Clearwater was still actual members of the Klan, and they were a sorry lot. Chassity’s daddy, Mike, had traveled with his father in the summer. They stayed at the Simmons’s farm when they were in the area. Alex liked to visit with her granddaddy because he had a sharp eye and would tell Alex what was going on in other parts of the country. He often told of growing up in Ireland, and this was extremely interesting to Alex. Alex got to know Mike and took an interest in him. When Mike graduated from school and was traveling full-time with his father, Alex came up with the idea of a dry goods store in Clearwater. He thought they needed a good dry goods store and insisted that Mike was the man for the job. Alex provided the financing of the store for Mike and ensured its survival.

George’s father was a shrewd businessman. He was an honest man, but had a knack for knowing when to take risks and when to cut losses. He made a fortune during the First World War in cotton trading and acquired large real estate holdings along with the four-thousand-acre farm. In fact, the Simmonses owned about 80 percent of the commercial buildings in Clearwater. George was following in his father’s footsteps. They looked alike and thought alike. Both were tall men, over six feet, and each had a very distinguished look. Chassity knew just how far she could push George before the backlash occurred. She saw his anger on occasion and was not anxious to see it again; being well aware that he was too much the gentleman to ever even think of striking a woman, but knowing that if she ever went over the line, she would lose George forever. She shuddered to think how close she came once. She was mad at him and used his best friend William Otha Applewhite to get at him. She flirted with WO and enticed him to ask her for a date. Chassity knew how to string out his name Willlliam, in her Southern drawl and tell him that he was the sweetest little ole thang. WO simply could not resist and decided, All is fair in love and war. It was too late when he realized she was simply using him to make George jealous; his close friendship with George Simmons was ended.

Arguments and fights were simply part of George and Chassity’s relationship, and a major confrontation came over the wedding date. Chassity insisted that ladies get married in June. George countered, Farmers get married in November after the harvest is in. Since his father’s death, George felt that he had to be present during the harvest and cotton-ginning season. He finally convinced her that with all the fall colors, they could decorate in a manner that would accent her red hair. This struck a chord, and she immediately began planning a large fall wedding. Chassity and George’s most serious confrontation came after the wedding invitations were sent. Chassity was Presbyterian; George was from a long line of Baptists. George told Chassity one night that he wanted to raise the children, if blessed with children, in the Baptist faith. She agreed this would be okay with her, but then he dropped the bombshell. He told her he wanted her to join the Baptist church. She threw what may be described in Southern colloquialism "a wall-eyed fit."

She screamed, George, you heathens baptize by immersion! I could never go into that nasty old pool and get my hair all wet in public. The preacher is standing in there with his feet and everything.

The heathen remark stung George. He was very serious about his faith.

He said, All right then, we will just call off the wedding. Go ahead and be embarrassed that you have been jilted at the last minute.

This horrified Chassity. George had deliberately waited to approach this issue until the invitations were sent. He knew Chassity would face the baptismal pool before she would face the embarrassment of calling off the wedding. She cried for about thirty minutes and finally decided that George was not going to give in.

She said, "Okay, after the wedding, I will join your church."

George replied, Nope, this Sunday, tomorrow.

This brought on another flood of tears and a response, George, you don’t trust me.

George replied, Just need to get all of these important matters settled before the wedding.

Chassity decided that to concede to this demand was going to cost George dearly. The wheels began to turn in her mind, and finally, she said in her sweetest syrupy voice, George honey, I will agree to join the Baptist church if you will take me to Ireland for our honeymoon. I want so much to see where my ancestors came from.

George knew his demand that she join his church was going to cost him dearly, but he could hardly stifle a laugh. He was already considering an Irish honeymoon since Chassity talked about her ancestors all through high school and college.

He, after pretending to be flustered and pained by this demand, replied, Well, sweetheart, since you are good enough to consent to join my church, I’ll hock the farm if that is what it takes, to see that you get your Irish honeymoon.

After a long and passionate kiss, Chassity remarked, Fights are so nice. I just love making up.

But this fight was not over yet. Chassity added, George, I know you have had a disagreement with WO, but I have invited him and his finance’ to our wedding.

That’s okay, Chassity, and I forgot to mention that I have invited Aunt Mamie, Big John, and Lou.

Who are Aunt Mamie, Big John, and Lou?

They are black people who work at the farm. You know Aunt Mamie. She does all of the cooking. Lou cares for the house, and Big John, Lou’s husband, more or less runs the farm. Aunt Mamie is John’s mother. In fact, I have invited all of our tenants.

Chassity swooned, George! Black people at our wedding! I will be mortified!

Get over it, Chassity, they are going to sit with the family.

Chassity pretended to faint. When she came out of her pretentious faint, she admonished, George! How could you?

I simply told Mother to make sure that Aunt Mamie and Lou had proper attire for the wedding. I told her I would see that Big John was taken care of.

And you mean your mother doesn’t care?

Chassity, my mother is a Yankee, didn’t you know that?

He knew that Chassity was well aware that his mother was from New York. He also knew she was aware of the shunning his mother received from people in and around Clearwater. Chassity really had no concept of George’s affection for these three people. She simply thought this was a way for the Simmonses to strike back at the community that shunned his mother. She was truly stunned by these developments, but as her mind mulled this over, she rather liked the idea of thumbing their noses at the community. Her attempt to nettle George by inviting WO to the wedding truly backfired, but it was turning out okay.

Chassity followed through with her agreement to join the Baptist church. One of her sick headaches occurred immediately after she came from the baptismal pool, and she had to go home and go to bed. She recovered overnight and was feeling well when George checked on her the next morning. Her good humor surprised him, and this caused him no small worry since he knew she was plotting to get even. However, for now, her spirits were high, and she was busily planning the wedding.

George’s dad died in January during a flu epidemic. His health had been failing for some time, and when he came down with the flu, his body was too weak to ward it off. After a gallant fight for two weeks, he lost a battle with pneumonia. George came home from school and spent the last week of his daddy’s life with him. Alexander Simmons tried to pass on all the wisdom he could to his son during that last week.

One thing that Alex emphasized to George all through the week was, Son, the economy is riding much too high. The stock market is going to crash. Be careful with your investments and hedge each one.

These words would ring clearly in George’s ears for the next several years. George complained to his dad that the professors at Mississippi State did not know anything about business.

His father in a weak voice told him, Doesn’t matter, son. Just give them what they want to make the grades, and remember that what they are teaching is what you will be competing against in the real world. It is more important to know what your opponent does not know in business than to know what he does know. This is information you can use.

George, his mother, and Aunt Mamie did all they could to try to nurse him back to health, but he was simply too weak. George tried to keep his father from talking so much, but Alex would think of something else that he wanted to tell his son. George was his only child. He was fifty years old when George was born; his mother was thirty-eight at the time. George’s mother was making plans to go back to New York as soon as George was married. Her plans were to have all her things out by the time George and Chassity returned from their honeymoon so they could take over the Simmons’s mansion. George’s grandfather, his mother’s father, was a retired ambassador. Her brother was a congressman from New York. Since George’s dad was dead, she thought she would be happier in New York with her family.

*     *     *

There were no close bonds between Chassity and George’s mother. Marie Simmons thought Chassity was a spoiled brat, and she made George aware that she feared a stormy marriage for them.

George simply smiled at his mother and said, "Mom, I know Chassity is a brat, but there is a side of her that most do not see. She has depth that is never seen on the surface. She is strong-willed and fiery, but underneath that exterior is a real person who is compassionate