(no subject)

[mamculuna]

 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. 

Comments

Oops

[cactuswatcher]

Correction: The camp site and historic park are at the mouth of the Wood River not the Illinois River.

Re: Oops

[mamculuna]

Great to know the real place!

Re: Oops

[cactuswatcher]

I knew the real place, but thinking Illinois, I wrote down the wrong river name. They are a few miles apart. I've been at the mouth of the Illinois River by boat, ferry and car, but only at the mouth of the little Wood River on foot from the parking lot. ;o)