Live Your Dream

By Mary Lee

As I reflect on my memories, I often break down periods of life into four areas. I have heard throughout life about the golden days or the winter of ones life. I never quite understood why this period was important but it always intrigued me. Well, I have reached those golden days of life and as I look back, I find that life is pretty standard and everyone goes through the same or similar experiences at some time along the way. I am taking the liberty of using references to the progression of life from experiences of many with whom I have had the pleasure of knowing and befriending and from experiences in my own life.

Join Mary Lee in between the pages of this book and witness the complete changes in her life as a positive experience for others in future years.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781493126903

Book preview

Chapter One

I quietly tip toed to my bedroom window on the second floor of our plantation house to see why so many of our slaves were screaming and loudly sobbing. I was afraid and very sad when I saw one of our most loyal slaves hanging from the limb of a tree. In the stories ahead, you will find a panorama of the lives of many people which includes glimpses of life from the late nineteenth century, including personal memories of life from the Civil War, the Great Depression, World War I, World War II and life as we know it today. This quote was told to me by my grandmother and there are many more of her memories ahead.

The Civil War started on April 12, 186l and ended four years later on April 9, 1865. History tells us of the battles fought, the destruction and deaths resulting in the combat of the Civil War while striving to constitute the equality of all men. The battle fronts will be left to historical records. The narratives on the following pages have been freely shared with me by those who lived and were a part of life during the growth of our nation and we will view a glimpse of home life during the years of changes in American history.

The Civil War began in Charleston, South Carolina and the battles followed paths through the South with one force going South into the eastern territory and one following into the western sector through Tennessee and Mississippi where the fighting was joined by troops coming in by water to enter through New Orleans and merging in the area of Vicksburg, Mississippi.

Both of my maternal grandparents lived on plantations in Mississippi during this period of time and I was in awe as many hours were spent hearing of their experiences. My grandmother did not often speak of her childhood as the daughter of a wealthy plantation owner. Perhaps her thoughts and memories seemed to bring fear and sadness. The above story involved punishment of a slave who had, apparently, shown disrespect or failure to carry out an assigned job appropriately.

When I was four years old, Mama, my aging grandmother and I were strolling down a lovely tree lined avenue in Birmingham, Alabama one day. We had never been particularly close, but this day, as we walked, I noticed her snow white hair sparkling in the sunlight and suddenly her wrinkled arm reached out to me. My hand eagerly fell into hers. As we walked along, I noticed a large tree adorned with beautiful and very fragrant white blossoms. When I asked if she knew what kind of tree it was, I could sense a coldness in her voice as she replied:

That is a Magnolia tree and it brings back very unpleasant memories of my life on the plantation. Of course, I had to ask her why so she continued; When one of the slaves had to be punished, it was required that all of the slaves report to a specific Magnolia tree in the front yard of our house to observe what was done if they did not obey. One day, as I looked out of my second story bedroom window on one of these occasions, I saw one of our slaves hanging by his neck from a limb of the Magnolia tree. I was eight years old at the time but the horror I felt and the sadness of his family and children as they were made to watch this unforgivable tragedy has remained a memory I shall never forget.

I never asked Mama about her childhood again. However, our relationship began to grow at that point and we were very close thereafter. Both Mama and Pop, my grandfather whom you will get to know later, lived with my family. During her last four years, Mama spent most of her time in bed and grew weaker each day. One morning, Mama asked if we would help her downstairs. She specifically asked to rest on the couch in my music room so she could listen to me practice which she did frequently. It was rather unusual for her to ask me to sing something special for her but this morning she did.

As I was getting ready to stop my practice routine for the morning, Mama asked me very sincerely and lovingly to play a song she had heard me sing many times before. The title of the song was Sentimental Journey. As I sang for her, the words had a meaning to me that I had never felt before. Gonna take a sentimental journey. Gonna set my heart at ease. Gonna take a sentimental journey to renew old memories. As I finished, I turned around to see a gentle calmness and loving smile encasing her beautiful face which I had never seen before. An ongoing Thank you, Pet was repeated many times as I helped her up from the couch and back to bed. Although she was weak and frail, her death was not eminent to the family but apparently she knew that her journey through life was ending. She died that evening in her sleep with a smile of happiness and contentment as she began her new life.

The plantation home where Mama grew up was taken over during the war by Union forces for their headquarters in Mississippi. The family escaped after hiding many treasured items of family value; furniture, paintings, books, jewelry and other cherished articles in the attic of the home. When the war ended, the Union Army left the area and the family returned to their home to find all of the items safe and secure. I am fortunate to have many of those treasures that have been passed down through the years, in my home today.

Another very special person in my life was my grandfather, Pop. Through his bits of lore, I relived the Civil War on many occasions as he related experiences of his life on the plantation. The Evans plantation was also taken over by Northern troops and made a Command Post of the National Army.

There were stories about their lives when the family had to leave their home but, in those days, families usually lived very close to each other so his family stayed with nearby relatives. Their slaves were told by the soldiers they were free to leave but instead of going, they quietly hid in the surrounding woods which were a part of the plantation. Pop’s story continued: The slaves would come to see us often to be sure we were alright. He often referred to a special slave, Tom, who would play cards with him as a child and teach him how to do many things around the house and land. Tom was a very devoted friend. The plantation had been the slaves’ home for most of their lives and it was where they still wanted to be.

Although they were free to leave, every one of them returned to their small homes on the plantation grounds. It was here they had chosen to remain in their freedom where they would feel secure and would continue to be treated as a part of the family. Their small homes were still intact and soon their voices were again heard as the days faded into nights with strains of their beloved spirituals floating through the stately trees into the balmy nights. The sound of their euphoric laughter and chatter resounded from the fields as they sang praises to God for their blessings.

There was another story that Pop shared with me about an incident with his father. He started by telling me of an unfortunate confrontation with his father. Pop was seventeen years old at the time. After many ill chosen words between the two, Pop walked out of the house and decided to leave home for good. He knew his friend, Tom, would go with him and keep him safe. Apparently, after two days, the anger subsided and Pop felt great remorse for leaving his father under such combative conditions. he realized that his father was speaking to him out of love and concern for some of his unacceptable actions, especially a minor incident that had recently occurred. Pop never told me what he had done to reach this father and son manifestation and I never asked.

Pop knew that he had to apologize to his father for this behavior so he returned home. When he entered the house, he found many people there and tried to find his father but to no avail. His father died the afternoon Pop left and he returned to find friends and relatives there having just attended the funeral. He was very humbled and distraught to know that he could never tell his father how much he loved him and how he now understood and appreciated the love and support he had always been given.

While telling me this story, we rocked back and forth in rhythm to the squeaking wooden porch swing when he said to me: Pet, always be very careful not to ever say anything in anger. You may have to live in sorrow with those words for the rest of your life. When he finished, tears appeared in his aging eyes and rolled gently down his wrinkled face. Pop died when I was five years old.

After the war, there was poverty throughout the South. I am told my great grandparents did not experience the misfortunes faced by many and there was never an absence of faith during this period of rebuilding lives and the many tribulations that were a part of the regrowth of their homeland. Many of the Evans and Baldwin kinsmen were to become well known national figures later in history. Our ancestry was like a Who’s Who of the South. It included a U.S. Supreme Court Judge, a Secretary of State and multiple attorneys, two of whom ultimately reached the governor’s office in Mississippi. In pursuing their political careers, they were elected to the U.S. Congress while others were in the military service of the United States. One of them was honored by placing his statue in the Hall of Statues in the U.S. Capitol to acknowledge his service in the U.S. Armed Forces. Another member of the family went into the field of education and founded the University of Georgia.

In the early South prior to the Civil War, a degree of prevalence was recognized among the plantation owners. Those who were owners of large plantations, expansive land holdings, and, owned many slaves were looked upon as royalty. In America today, American Royalty is a familiar referral to families who are or have been exceedingly wealthy, active in politics or outstanding in business enterprises.

With the more prestigious plantation owners, families were expected to represent the highest heraldry of the South. This training began with strict training of well-bred children in behavior, manners, education, courtesy and an appreciation of elegance. Many memories of my mother’s childhood training were a vital part of the expectations of my brothers and me. An example would be for everyone, including the father, to refrain from sitting down for a meal before the lady of the house or hostess was seated, and men and boys should not be seated before assisting all ladies and girls with their chairs. A rule that was most important was to never begin eating before the hostess has taken the first bite and one that would certainly be questionable today is never use a knife to cut the greens in a salad. Out of curiosity, I made it a point to observe Queen Elizabeth of England at a state dinner and have yet to see her pick up a knife when eating a salad. I concede.

Mother was extremely compassionate and always ready to assist someone in need. She was very kind and gentle and was widely known as an excellent cook so when my brothers had company at mealtime, mother would always invite them to join us which they nearly always complied. Mother’s reputation as a lovely, graceful and generous lady was known far wide and her reputation as a cook was not to be seconded by anyone. These now little known courtesies prevailed throughout the families of her sisters also but seem to have succumbed to life in the modern world. However, in my life, I still use some of the adages of days gone by.

Perhaps you have heard one that I will always remember and utilize. It reminds me that you might fight fire with fire. To hear it, you would probably think it a foolish statement but I see it done every day in the forestry service. A planned fire is burned in a wooded area to remove the underbrush and prevent an unexpected forest fire from crossing over and into a larger area. This one I have used many times. In life, the meaning to me was to stand up for your rights if someone is defaming you. This approach can be much safer that a physical encounter.

I am sure you have heard that the grass is always greener on the other side. It is so easy to resent the success and of someone else. If you knew that person’s background perhaps you would understand why they drive a bigger car, live in a bigger house, make more money or seem to have a fuller and happier life. I am confident that these people have worked very hard and maintained a high faith in themselves to get where they are. If you knew the whole story, you would undoubtedly find some area of their life where sadness, illness or some otherwise conflict exists. Everyone has