Eddie was born July 29, 1861 in Mississippi. Sarah was born February 2, 1878 in Charleston Texas, Delta County. Eddie was seventeen years older than Sarah. They were married January 2, 1898. They had eight children.

Winnie married Paris 'Pat' Ayles January 7, 1915. They lived in the Wilson home. They had three children; one was Virginia, still living, and two children that died as babies; Blondelle Ayles, born 6/17/1917 and died 10/17/1918, and Woodroe H. Ayles, born 6/17/1920 and died 6/16/1922.  Ida, the oldest daughter of Sarah and John, lived in Lake Creek with her husband and six children. After her husband died she and the six children returned to the Wilson home to live. That must have been quite a houseful.

I don't know the names of Aunt Ida's children but she had a son named Elbert Stegall. When he grew up he farmed her land. Ida had a daughter named Anna. When she grew up she married Jim Barnett. Jim's first wife died and left him with a daughter named Melba. They had a service station and grocery store in Lake Creek. Anna also ran the telephone service in Lake Creek. 

Anna was a very good stepmother to Melba. Melba was a smart girl. She wrote stories and published a book. After Jim Barnet died Anna moved in with Aunt Ida, her mother. The house was in Lake Creek about a block east of the store.  Aunt Ida had long hair that she kept in a large bun. One day while I was there she was combing it, and it was so long it reached the floor when she stood up. She said that her hair had never been cut her entire life. Aunt Ida had a telephone, the first one I had ever seen. It was one of those large wall telephones that had a hand crank on the side. You had to turn it a few times to get the operator.  

Four months later, May 4, 1918 Granny's husband Eddie, died. In his latter years he began to lose his memory. In those days doctors didn't know what they know today and thought he had gone crazy. (He probably had Alzheimers' Disease). When he became really sick he tried to commit suicide and he also tried to kill Granny. So they put him in the state insane asylum in Terrell, Texas, where he stayed until he died. The hospital shipped his body to Cooper by train and sent Granny a telegram telling her when the train would arrive.

I remember Granny telling me this story. She said, "I had to hitch up the team to the wagon and drive the seven miles to Cooper to get his body. The coffin bounced in the back of the wagon as I drove back on the rough roads." No doubt that was the saddest day of her life.

Granny told me many stories about her beloved husband, "Ed," she called him. I wish I could remember all of them, but I was much younger then and not too interested. She told me how hard he worked in the cotton fields, and he would come home for lunch hot and hungry. He loved ice cream, especially in the hot summertime, so she would have a hand-cranked freezer of homemade ice cream for him. She said, "Although it was in the hot summertime, he would eat so much he would have to put on his heavy overcoat."

She told a story about when their place became overrun with cats. It seemed that people would bring their unwanted cats to the gin next door when they brought their cotton to be ginned. Many of them took up residents at their place and they were so wild that no one could catch them. After awhile they multiplied until there were dozens of them. She said, "One day Ed took his shotgun outside and declared war on them. When he got through there were dead cats all over the place." When Granny would tell me these stories I could feel the love and affection she held in her heart for him, and how she missed him. Although he had been dead many years she spoke of him as if it were only yesterday.

Just five months after Granny's husband, Eddie, died, my parents, Mary Viola and Charles Edgar, had their first child, me, Elena Vivian.  I  was born October 31, 1918.  My mother, Viola, and my father, Dick,  had been married just barely nine months when I was born. Granny said jokingly, "The first baby can come anytime, but the second one always takes nine months." Before I was born, Dad brought my mother back home to Granny's house so she could take care of her and me, the baby. Of course Granny did so, gladly.

On January 13th, 1921, my sister, Mary Louise, was born at Granny's house in Lake Creek, also.  The same doctor, Dr. Eastep (sp?) delivered both of us.

On December 30, 1922, my brother, Charles Richard, Jr. was born in El Dorado, Arkansas.  The doctor there did not take care of my mother.  She developed blood poisoning because the 'after-birth'  was not removed and she died in Dallas on March 16th, 1923.   Granny always said, "If Viola could have come to me in Lake Creek, I would have taken care of her and she would still be with us."  I think that is probably true.  More is told about this in my biography, Thoughts of Yesterday, and a little later on in this history.

September 9, 1920, Granny's father John Wilson also died, adding another heartache to Granny's life with many more to come.

When my uncle, Wes Tom,  was a teenager he got a job at the cotton gin that was next door to their house. His first job there was to throw long sticks of wood, called cord wood, into a fire box. This was to heat a boiler that powered the steam engine. This was a hot, dirty job but he was glad to have it. He still worked on the farm until all of their cotton was harvested, then worked at the gin. After his daddy, Eddie, died he was needed in the fields more than ever. He told this story, "I was only ten years old when Daddy died and not really old enough to do a man's work, but I would stand on a wooden box in order to be tall enough to lift up the harness on the horses. I had to learn early in life how to do a man's job." He never went to school after that. It seemed the farm and the gin took up most of his time.

As I memtioned above, Viola and Charles' second child, Mary Louise, was born January 13, 1921. Again Dad brought mother Mom Viola back home so Granny could take care of her. Dad and Mother still lived in Dallas. When I  was about four years old I  remember a few times that Mother Viola, took me and my little sister, Mary Louise, to Granny's by train. The closest train station to Lake Creek was at Enloe, about five miles west.  I recall that Uncle Wes Tom or  Uncle James Allen 'Jim ' would  meet the train to take us to Granny's house. They were in a horse-drawn buggy, it was always at night and very cold. They wrapped us in a large lap-robe that was heavy, wooly and scratchy, but oh so warm. This was quite an experience for two little city girls.  I think that is why I still remember  something about it.

All the family was still up and waiting for us inside the warm house. Aunt Sue Ann and Aunt Harvena 'Red' took Mary and me  to the smokehouse that was just in back of the kitchen. This was used to store cured meat, and was also used as a storeroom and creamery. Granny always raised a hog or two for meat, and had a few cows for the milk and cream. She never remarried after Eddie died, so she and her children did all the chores as well as working the farm.

Granny had brought the milk into the storeroom and put it in crock jars, the kind they used to make pickles and sour kraut.  The jars were on a long table. The cream would rise to the top and could be skimmed off to make butter. It was so cold in that room that the cream had frozen. I remember Aunt Sue Ann and Aunt Red lifting me and Mary Louise up so we could watch them skim off some of the frozen cream and put it in a bowl. Then they added sugar and vanilla, and we all ate and ate. Of course none of us ever told Granny about about  eating her butter cream.