[Granville-Hough] 25 May 2009 - Memorial Day

[Trustees for Granville W. Hough]

Date: Mon, 25 May 2009 08:01:18 -0700
From: Granville W Hough <gwhough at oakapple.net>
Subject: Memorial Day -25 May 2009

Yes! I Remember Memorial Day.

  Some days and events shape our future for the rest of our lives.  So it
was with Memorial Day Weekend of 1936, for that was when Elisha Hough,
ancestor to many of us, died.  Early on 30 May, we were sleeping in the
ÃôBoyÃÆsÃö Room in our old home where we had all been born.  Our mother
came in, and said, with great emotion, ÃôYou must get up now and go in
where your Papa is if you want to see him while he is still alive.Ãö  We
all went in the other room, but Papa did not respond when Mama told him
we were all there.  His eyes were open but he did not seem able to say
anything.  Mama fixed us something to eat and went back to be with
Papa.  We did some chores through the morning, but I cannot remember
what they were.  Neighbors began to arrive and gathered in the room with
Papa.  The last time I saw Papa alive was about 11 oclock. Neighbors
were standing around the bed where he was breathing with difficulty.
One neighbor was holding his wrist, checking his pulse.  Another was
holding his watch, observing the time.  No one had to tell me this was
the final countdown.  It was too much to watch.  I went across the
hallway to ÃôUncle ElijahÃÆsÃö Room and sat down on the bed.  Soon,
Clifford, Donald, and Roland were with me.

  Then, Elizabeth Payne came into the room and asked us if we had had
anything to eat.  Then she said, ÃôI have made some cornbread, and I will
bring some for you,Ãö which she did.  Now, you may ask: ÃôWho was
Elizabeth Payne?Ãö  Well, she was a colored woman who had heard our
father was dying.  The Payne family were tenants of Jim Meadows, and
lived about a block north of us.  So far as I know, she had never before
been in the house.  But she came and took charge in the kitchen and saw
the ingredients for corn bread and made some.  People who came thought
she was our cook.  Not so, she was a neighbor doing what she could for a
family in need.  She was a soft spoken, sweet tempered woman with some
education.  I remember her and her family with great respect.

  We were eating our cornbread as best we could when Farrell McAlpin came
in the room about 11:30.  As far as we were concerned, Farrell had
always been the meanest man in the world, and we did not know what to
expect.  He said in a husky voice, Ãô"Boys, your Papa just passed away.Ãö"
Then he patted each of us and said, with great compassion, "ÃôI am
sorry.Ãö:  For some time, Farrell stayed near the front door, and greeted
neighbors with the news.  When Dr. Boykin came by for his daily check,
Farrell met him and said, Ãô"Doctor, you are too late.  Elisha Hough just
passed away about an hour ago."Ãö  Dr. Boykin drew out his notebook and
made notes from what Farrell told him.  I now know these notes were for
the death certificate.  I can say that Farrell McAlpin remained a friend
to us the rest of his life, and helped us all from time to time.

  I can remember that friends and neighbors came to see us that night,
but I cannot say for sure that PapaÃÆs body was in the house.  It must
have been.  Mims Mitchel had arranged the body, and I remember Clifton
McAlpin remarking that Papa looked to be about 35 years old.  I remember
that I went early the next morning to DuewardÃÆ's house, where he got us a
tub of water, and we took it out tn the crib, where we took a bath.  The
next thing I remember was in the Sharon Church at the funeral service.
Coley Richardson had engaged the Howell brothers quartet to sing the
final songs.  They did very well.  One song I remember was, "ÃôWhen they
ring the golden bells for you and me.Ãö"

As the service progressed, the minister and funeral director paused the
proceedings and stated that a colored family had come to view the body
and pay respects.  They asked for acceptance and tolerance as my mother
had approved the request.  Then they led in Tom Boykin and his whole
family who spent a few moments viewing the body and speaking to my
mother.  They were all in tears, and they went out the back door.  This
was the only funeral I ever attended in Mississippi where colored people
came to a white folks funeral.  Now, you may ask, who was Tom Boykin?

  One day, my father was working along when a black man approached him
and asked if he was a Hough.  When my father said he was, the man said
he was Tom Boykin, and that his folks had been Hough slaves before the
Civil War.  He, Tom Boykin, had moved to the Delta area of Mississippi
(between the Yazoo and Mississippi Rivers), but that he was not satified
there.  There were no schools, no churches, and they were not allowed to
have gardens.  All they did was raise cotton and live on credit.  Tom
Boykin said he wanted to get back with his people, and could my father
help him.  My father was looking for a tenant, so he struck a deal with
Tom Boykin, though he had never had any dealing with black people.  He
went back with Tom Boykin to the Delta and moved his family in our
T-model truck.  So Tom Boykin lived with us for one year and it was a
good crop year.  He had a garden, his children got some schooling at a
school/church which Jim Meadows supported for his families.  My father
bought a Model T car, and Tom Boykin had done so well that he bought one
just like it.  However, we did not have enough land for TomÃÆ's growing
family, so my father helped him move to a larger farm in the Wells
Community (of Concord Church) near us.  We remained friendly with the
Tom Boykin family, and they paid their respects to the person who had
rescued them from the Delta credit machine.

  We buried Papa at Sharon Cemetery in Simpson County, and you can see 
the gravesite, which we
always visited on Memorial Day.  When we returned home from the funeral,
our mother said to us that we would always remember Memorial day and
Memorial day weekend, and so it has been.

  The next two years were difficult for us and took a heavy toll.
I still have nightmares trying to solve farm problems I had with
machinery, mules, and crops.  It was not easy for any of us, but I think
the son most affected was Roland.

  As I try to make sense of RolandÃÆs last year of life, it all goes back
to that weekend.  Roland was so wounded that he never recovered.  That
is what I believe.

  Yes, I do remember Memorial Day!


PS. "No punishment could be too severe for those (prisoners) who were
kingpins of the drug trade and who ruined so many lives, But, by far,
the majority of these prisoners are guilty of only minor offences, such
as possessing small amounts of marijuana.  That includes people who used
it only for medicinal purposes." Walter Cronkite, Award-Winning Journalist.