Gordon, in your letter you wrote, "In the middle 1920s he moved with his family to St. Augustine." I'd like to relate my first remembrances from that time. Of course, at that age only a few memories remain with me.

In St. Augustine we lived in an upstairs apartment of a two story house. And every few days a delivery man would bring a large bottle of "Polar" water and sit it outside our door. Why we would be buying water to drink when there was plenty of running water I don't know unless it is that Florida water smelled of sulfur and_______, well you know how that smells.

Daddy worked for the railroad for a while after we got to St. Augustine, Later he got a job cutting sorghum and when he came in at night he would take me in his lap and get a kick out of me trying to say "Sorghum, Daddy, Sorghum".

One afternoon Mama took us children on a boat ride in the bay. The boat had the lower part enclosed with seats all around the back except for a large open door. Mama kept us glued to our seats by telling us if we got out of them we might fall out the door. When we got back to the dock, a rope was thrown to shore, hooked to a waiting Shetland pony which pulled us into a secure place to unload.

Back in Edison living with Uncle Sam Massey on his farm, we occupied the two large rooms on the south side of the house. These two rooms are now part of Marvette Lewis' home. One morning Mr. Will Lawrence and another man came to get Daddy to go hunting. I asked to go with them and when told I couldn't, I pitched a real "Boogie". As clearly as yesterday, I remember I fell on the floor, kicking my feet and screaming at the top of my voice. Mr. Will jumped up and said, "If he wants to go we'll let him. I've got a sack in the car, we'll tie him up in it and lock him in the rumble seat". He ran to the car, got a sack and started back. It scared me almost to death. I forgot about my tantrum, I forgot I wanted to go hunting, all I wanted to do was get behind Mama's coattails. Mr. Will couldn't have coaxed me to go anywhere with him after that.

These are my first remembrances of the finest, most loving and caring parents that I believe a person could have.