Rest-in-Peace

Papa had heard about West Texas. The lure of the West must have been getting to everybody. Soon Papa was enticed to move his little family out there. But not until he first made a trip himself to see. And he liked what he saw. He took Uncle Jim Ed’s son, Charlie, with him to investigate the West.
He returned from this trip sooner than Mama had anticipated. Mama was very careful while Papa was gone. keeping a loaded shot-gun beside her bed at night. Vera and I were sleeping together and Mama had the two little ones in bed with her. I woke up one night because of a sound at the window – someone trying to open it. Mama heard it, too, and reached for the gun. Just as she was aiming toward the figure at the window, he spoke. Papa !! Of course, Papa deserved and received a real scolding. He liked to play tricks and joke, but Mama insisted that was not the time or place or way to joke. She meant it, too.
I remember seeing my Grandfather Simpson only one time and it must have been just before Papa moved us west. Papa took all of us to Simpson Springs, he called the homestead, to see Grandpa, which happened to be Papa’s last visit with his father. I have a distinct mental picture of Grandpa although it was the only time I recall seeing him. He was white-haired and smooth-shaven, not a large man, just average size. Grandpa Simpson had a short mustache, but no beard. On the other hand, Grandpa Freeman had a long white chin beard reaching to his waist. Uncle Anderson resembled Grandpa Simpson very much when I saw him at about the age of 60. Grandpa had a second wife whom the sons disliked very much. Aunt Julia, they called her. Papa said they liked to tease her. One day when they came in from work, they could not find her anywhere in the house. So they searched the barn and other buildings. They found her in the smokehouse. She had got into the big chest where the slabs of bacon were put in salt to cure. It was empty and she had crawled in, no doubt thinking she could hide there from the boys who teased her so severely. Papa told us Uncle Will said, "Well, boys, we've found her - but it's too late. She's dead." Then he said , You know boys, this box would make a good coffin. One of you bring me the hammer and I’ll just nail this lid down, and we’ll bury her." Of course, she came to life quickly. I can almost hear those Simpson sons laughing. -Excerpt from 'I Remember Papa', by Irene Rountree (eldest daughter), Oct 1981