The memories and tales in my family go back to a woman. I'm not even sure of her name. She was my grandmother's mother, so what I know of her dates from probably the late nineteenth century. She married my great-grandfather who had a farm in the northwest part of SC up near the mountains, but settled by the French. She had two daughters and a son, and convinced my great-grandfather to move 25 miles to a tiny town that had a college. It was a men's college then, but my grandmother finished the girls' school and then was the first woman to graduate from the men's college in 1904. But the story I know of her mother, the great-grandmother, is that she'd ride back to the old farm by herself, her youngest daughter with her, and at the old homestead light all the lamps so a passerby would think the house full of people.She'd ride back with her youngest daughter a toddler sleeping in a wagonload of cotton. I remember her.