Mayes Family Legends

I have been interested in genealogy for quite some time and along the way I started paying more attention to given names. It seems that in several years past, given names were kept in the family. A newborn was named in honor of a parent, a grandparent, an aunt, an uncle, etc. A little later, while this was still a common practice, some names were chosen to honor well-known public figures such as entertainers, presidents, athletes, historic figures, etc. In more recent times, given names were chosen because they were different and uncommon (more personal), they had a pretty sound, they would look good on a theatre marquee or on an office door, etc. I'm sure that at one time or another we all think about our name: where it came from, what it means, whether we like it or not. I know I have and this is what I discovered about the names William and Frances.

William seems to be one of the oldest names in the English language and much glory has been bestowed upon it. I'm sure there were some real scoundrels, too. William was the name of four kings of England and it is the name of a future king of England. On Christmas day, 1066, William the Conqueror was crowned William I, king of England. William III, known as William of Orange was born in The Hague, The Netherlands. Some information I've received indicates (maybe) some of our ancestors fought for William of Orange but that's another story. Another William I was the first king of the present day kingdom of The Netherlands. Williamsburg, Virginia is a very old, historic town in "the New World" and was named for William III. William and Mary College, in Williamsburg, is the second oldest college in the United States and was founded through a charter and funds granted by King William III and Queen Mary II. How about William Shakespeare, he's a good William. But most important of all, to me, is my great-great-grandfather who was born in 1776 and is buried in the Mayes Cemetery in Sumner County, Tennessee, whose name was William. And this is just to mention a few but it is enough to give me pride in my first name.

Frances is also a grand old name. I have always been told it is spelled with an (i) for a male and with an (e) for a female but this has not always been true. My great-grandfather's name was spelled with an (e), Frances Marion, The Swamp Fox, of Revolutionary War fame, spelled his name with an (e) and on my birth certificate, my name is spelled with an (e), just to mention a few. I believe when historians write of men named Franc?s they assume the spelling is with an (i). Therefore, for the rest of this letter I will make the same assumption. There are more Francis's than you can shake a stick at but here are a few: Sir Francis Bacon, Sir Francis Drake, Francis Scott Key, two kings of France were named Francis, Francis was the name of two Holy Roman Emperors, there was Saint Francis De Sales, Francis Ferdinand, Archduke of Austria, Saint Francis of Assisi and Saint Francis Xavier. Again, most important to me are my great-grandfather, Frances Mayes, my grandfather, George Frances Mayes and my great-grandfather, Francis Neal. Again, this is just to mention a few but it is enough for me to take great pride in my middle name.

I recently saw Daddy's birth certificate, I can't remember where. I think in Mamma's bank vault and guess what, his name was James Garland Mayes. I have no idea why he didn't know or remember this. Anyway, if that's the way he wanted it, it probably is okay for JG (Jason Garlan). I'm a little confused about that. My Grandpa, George Frances, had a brother named James Rufus, who was called Uncle Ru. I guess they gave the James to Daddy and the Rufus (which means red in old England) to Uncle Seymour (Rufus Seymour).

Daddy said he was never sure why he was called Peg. He thought some people called Granddaddy Peg but he wasn't real sure. Then I guess he would have been "Little Peg." Also, it may, and probably did, have something to do with one or both of them being a baseball catcher. In those days and my earlier days, throwing the ball to second base was called pegging the ball to second base. A good catcher could really peg a ball. He had a good peg. Also, in those days a catcher was called a "hind catcher" because he caught the ball behind home plate, I guess.

Back in Mamma and Daddy's days it was quite common for children to call their parents Mammy and Pappy. Very often Pappy was shortened to Pap (in Huckleberry Finn, for example), as we have changed Daddy to Dad. Therefore, Daddy called his mother Mammy and his father Pap. I guess his siblings did also because they called their grandfather (Frank) Fat Pap. From the only photo I have, Fat Pap was not really fat. I guess he was just fatter than the others in the family, or I wouldn't be surprised if it was a nickname given him by Granny Em.

I feel such strong pride in being a Southerner. I really can't explain it but it sure is an awfully strong feeling. For one thing, the Confederacy stood for much more than wanting to own slaves. I don't know the figures but I'm sure a very, very small percentage of the Southerners owned slaves. More importantly, I do know Southerners never wanted Northerners to tell them what to do. I know that there were slaves in the so-called "Free States", also. In fact, The Emancipation Proclamation, which was more political than anything, was written two years after the war started and stated the Northern slave owners could keep their slaves for some period of time, I can't remember just how many years, after the war was over. There was a very distinct division between the North and South, other than slavery. For one thing it was basically farming vs. industry. In both houses of Congress, the North outnumbered the South by a wide majority and anything the South wanted the North voted down.

Finally, the South had had enough and asked to go their own way. Our own Declaration of Independence states that this is a right any peoples should have. That's why we fought Great Britain for our "freedom" and Thomas Jefferson, Patrick Henry, George Washington, etc. are not considered traitors by us. So, is it fair to call Robert E. Lee, Jefferson Davis, Stonewall Jackson, etc. traitors? I guess it is if you are northern sympathizers because I imagine our "patriots" are considered "traitors" in Great Britain.

Regarding the Rebel Battle Flag: The Hawaiian flag prominently displays the flag of Great Britain, our great past enemy, and I know of no one who is asking them to take it down or change it. The Cross was prominently displayed on the Knights of the Crusades who committed terrible atrocities, the Cross has been prominently displayed by the KKK and burned as a warning but no one is asking to do away with the Cross. I can see how the Rebel Battle Flag can easily become an issue for people who are looking for an issue, and I can understand South Carolina's pride in the "Flag" because they were the first state to secede from The Union. There is still a controversy today, because South Carolina continues to fly the Confederate flag. When the irresistible force meets the immovable object, it seems compromise is called for. Therefore, I think both sides might go along with flying the actual Confederate flag below the state and US flags. The flag usually shown is the Rebel Battle Flag, "The Stars and Bars", and only part of the whole Confederate Flag. The real Confederate Flag had a white background with the stars and bars in the upper, pole corner. The last flag had a red stripe added to the end. Maybe this compromise would work. At least it's worth a try.

I think I may have figured out why I love the South so much; it must be the fried food.

I always thought this was an interesting story: I'm not sure of the ages but both were real young. Daddy's grandma, Granny Em (Emily Stephens) had a younger brother named Booker. During the Civil War, the area in which they lived was very active with the Union in command one day and the Confederates in command the next day or so. One day when she and Uncle Booker were up near the road a troop of Union Cavalry soldiers rode by and Uncle Booker started throwing rocks at them. The officer stopped and addressed them with a lot of questions, which they either couldn't or wouldn't answer. Finally he rebuffed Uncle Booker and started to leave when Uncle Booker picked up a rock and threw it directly at him. The officer just smiled and said, "He's a spunky little devil, isn't he?" and they all rode away.

One evening they heard some noises around their cabin and Uncle Booker moved the shutter a little, to see what was going on, and a bear thrust in his paw and started making a fuss. Uncle Booker grabbed the axe and whacked the bear's paw. The bear roared real loud and left. Granny Em said all of Uncle Booker's life, he was afraid of nothing. Don't you wish you could have known him? I sure do.

Regarding the cabin where Uncle Booker attacked the bear, since Granny Em was quite small, it could not have been the Mayes cabin so it must have been the Stephens cabin which was somewhat abandoned when the "big" house was built. Mamma and Daddy's first home was the Stephens cabin, when I was five years old. The next year they moved to the Spivy cabin which was located on the other side of the barn and barn lot from where Granddaddy Neal, Uncle Garlon, Aunt Verlene, Aunt Fordie, Aunt Nadine and Aunt Gilbertine lived. Uncle Basil had already moved to Indianapolis and Mamma Nancy had died several years earlier, at the age of 33. The Spivy cabin was about 100 yards from a swamp, which was a real scary place with a lot of critters in it. Sometimes the mosquitoes would come up and carry a cow away. Brother was born there on April 13, 1934 which was one of the happiest days of my life.

My great-grandmother, Emily Stephens, was married to Marion Frances Mayes. In those days, she was the happy, carefree, outlandish one of the family. I think much of the later Mayes attitudes and life style came from her. Granny Em was illiterate, which has nothing to do with this story, and smoked a pipe. When Granddaddy (George) was about five years old, he was crazy about Granny Em's pipe and tried to get her to give it to him. One day she said, George, when I die, you can have my pipe." About two or three days later, Granddaddy said, "Mammy, I think you'd better go ahead and give me that pipe. You ain't ever gonna die." That was just one of the stories she loved to tell. I wish I could have heard her tell her stories. She used to embarrass Fat Pap with this story. On night when she was in bed she called Fat Pap in. She threw back the covers and said, "Frank, there's a mouse in here, come and get it." Fat Pap just shook his head and left the room. She constantly embarrassed Aunt Alean, when she had friends around, with her just slightly off color humor. As a matter of fact, I'm told she was the same way to almost everyone.

I've been told, Mamma Bessy was left an orphan when she was a young girl. I guess the boys were old enough to fend for themselves. Her brothers were Ira, Henry and Houston. Uncle Ira was married to Lela (Aunt Lellie), and their children were Burvin, Robert, and Lillian. Uncle Henry was never married. Uncle Houston was married to Nobie, and their children were Ewing and Velma. Mamma Bessy was sent to an orphanage at Shakertown, Kentucky. She was taken as a foster child by a couple who owned a drug store in Franklin, Kentucky. It seems she was more a servant to them than a daughter, and was treated very cruelly. For example, one time when she was filling a lamp with coal oil (kerosene) she spilled some on the table and her foster "mother" made her lick it up. I imagine she was very happy when Granddaddy took her away from all that even though, I've heard, she didn't approve of the Mayes life style. From her picture, she looks like a real pretty woman. The Boyd and Jared names are very prominent in Buffalo Valley, Tennessee. William Boyd, the son of George Boyd, was born in Orange County, North Carolina on March15, 1761 or 1751. He entered the service of the United States during the Revolutionary War from Orange County, North Carolina and served under Captain John Walker for six months as a private. He was attached to the second regiment, commanded by Colonel Alfred Moore. Robert Boyd was Daddy's cousin. They were very close when they were kids and used to swim a lot in "Old Blue Hole". When they were kids and also when I was a kid, we would look for a good place to go swimming in the Summer time. The river was too large and too muddy, the creek was usually too muddy and the branch was usually too shallow but occasionally in a branch we could find a "pocket" of water which might be waist high and this would be a great place to skinny dip. The water was usually crystal clear and nice and cool. Daddy's and Robert's meant so much to them, they named it "Old Blue Hole". I think it must have been considerably deeper than waist high or maybe it got deeper with each telling

My grandmother Mayes (Mamma Bessy) died a long time before I was born so all I know about her is what I can get from photographs. She was 35 years old. I was five years old when Granddaddy (George) Mayes died. He was 55 years old. He drank an awful lot and I suppose he was an alcoholic. He had a heart attack and since doctors at that time didn't know any better, he was back doing farm work and suffered another, fatal attack two weeks later. I've been told he was about five feet six or seven inches tall and had a very stocky build of about 175 pounds. An interesting fact is, at his death he had all his teeth and could crack hickory nuts with his teeth. The mortician, Mr. Wiseman, told Daddy, Granddaddy was the best-built man he ever embalmed. He was a real good baseball catcher. His friend, I can't remember his first name but his last name was May, was an outstanding left handed pitcher. They were both offered contracts to play in the Texas League (class AA) but since Granddaddy’s friend wouldn't go, Granddaddy wouldn't go either. Many years after Granddaddy’s death, when an older man heard I was his grandson they would tell me all about how good he was. I sure was proud. As I mentioned, he was a catcher and his glove was a regular work glove. Every finger on both hands had been broken. I guess they were not very pretty. He always called me Bo. He said I was his Bo and he said Mamma and Daddy were too young and didn't know how to raise a boy and should give me to him. They were never sure how serious he was. I was very small when he died but I knew he loved me very much (kids can tell those things) and I have always wished he could have lived much, much longer.

George and Bessy Mayes had four children who lived, Alean, Garlan, Leofia and Seymour. Virdie died in infancy. One interesting point is, as rare as red headed children have always been, all four of these children had red hair. Alean's was kind of auburn, Garlan's and Seymour's was sandy and Leofia's was a brighter red. They all had very fair skin and lots of freckles.

The Little Oak Grove School

Like many in my family, I attended the Little Oak Grove School. I thought The Little Oak Grove School was probably completely destroyed by now, but I recently learned that it is still standing. The school was not located at a corner of the road.  It was just up the road from Mr. Fred Ray's house.  Directly across the road from the school was a private road which went down to Mama's maternal grandparents' home, Grannie and Granddaddy Bush.  I learned many years later that Mr. Fred's wife was a Mayes from William Mayes and his first wife's family.  I always thought there was another Oak Grove School which was larger than the one we attended, probably in the small town of Oak Grove.  Ours was always called Little Oak Grove School but perhaps it was just Oak Grove School with an identifying number. 

There were two doors to the school, for no apparent reason.  However, when I was selling school furniture in Indiana, I know of a school that had two entrances marked "Boys" over  one door and "Girls" over the other door, so maybe that was the reason, I don't know.  The school had only one room, with a pot bellied stove in the center.  At the end of the room, opposite the doors, there was a small stage, as I recall all the way across the room.  There were two rather large black boards on the wall where the stage was.  Some times the teacher would draw a circle as high as a person could reach their nose and as punishment the student would have to stand, sometimes on tip toe, with their nose in the circle for a specified time.  Other times the teacher would make a student rub out the chalk marked circle, with their nose.  Strange how a person remembers things like that.  At first, there were eight grades in the school with very few students in any grade.  Later the 7th and 8th grades went to Portland. In my first couple grades I used a slate.  As I recall it was for math, or as we called it, arithmetic.  We would work problems and then erase them for further use.  Who could afford paper?  We never used pens, only pencils.  Also, we never had a pencil sharpener, except a good pocket knife, which every boy had.  It was amazing how talented some of the boys were, when it came to sharpening pencils. As I recall, there were a few desks, I can't remember what kind, and a few tables with benches, for group participation.  In the very cold days we all huddled around the old stove and I don't know how the teacher ever did her job. 

My first grade teacher was Miss Hettie Mae.  At that time in the south, we never used last names.  My favorite teacher was Miss Edith, who was about 22 years old, as I recall.  At that time 2 years of college was all that was required to be a teacher.  Other than my parents, I think Miss Edith had the greatest influence over my thinking.  She taught me to love poetry, to perform in public and to love the South.  Many of the things I believe in today were taught to me by her.  I suspect I've passed much of this on to my children, so I guess teachers probably don't know how important they are in their student's life.

The people in this area were very poor and I know of one or two families who could not afford enough winter clothing decent enough for their children to wear to school so they missed many, many days. Also, because this was a farming area, at certain times the children were kept home to help. Therefore, attendance didn't enter into promotion or failure. The County School Board prepared tests for every school in the county and if a student passed this test they were passed on to the next grade, regardless of any attendance figure.

We rode a school bus driven by Mr. Gus Brown or one of his sons.  His youngest son, W. G., was a very good friend of mine.  I think there were 6 boys in the family, no daughters.  For many years there were one or more Brown boys in high school at Portland.  Several days one of them would drive the bus and leave it in the Portland High School parking lot until school was over then they would pick up the kids on the way home.  The bus driver actually let us off about what would be a couple blocks (city talk) from the school where the road turned toward Portland. When we left the bus, if there was snow on the ground, I'd lead the way with very small steps, so Gibby and Brother could walk in the tracks I made.  We were the first ones there and it was my responsibility to start the fire, A few of the kids rode their horse to school occasionally and left it hitched until school was over.  I took my lunch, usually a couple ham and biscuit sandwiches, which I would occasionally trade for beef steak and biscuits with Bill Fleming.   I took my milk to school in a cleaned out pint whiskey bottle, which I placed under the door step in the shade so it would be as cool as possible or the least warm as possible. 

I remember we were considered to be so poor we got government food, from time to time.  We got powdered milk and other forms of dehydrated food, from time to time.  Small Pox was a scourge in those days and we were encouraged to be vaccinated and if so we were awarded a Blue Ribbon and were permitted to be in a parade in Portland.  Mama and Daddy would not let me get the vaccination for fear of the aftermath.  After a couple years, I had the vaccination anyway and I told them about it. They were not too disappointed and I got my scar, my Blue Ribbon and I marched in the parade with my friends.  I think I still have that Blue Ribbon.

I have no idea how much schooling William Mayes had, or how much schooling Frank Mayes had but I do know that Granny Em could not read or write and that Granddaddy (George) went through the third grade. Mamma and Daddy both graduated from elementary school, only. Mamma attended both Little Oak Grove School and Hickory Hill School from time to time and Daddy attended Martin's School.

In the days of Mamma and Daddy's youth and for that matter mine too, living in a farming area as we did, socializing with the opposite sex was not easy. One of the most common ways was to meet at church meetings. Being located in the "Bible belt", as we were, the local church was the prominent meeting place. Naturally, some churches were more active than others but typically, there was Sunday school every Sunday and a circuit preacher came around about once a month for hell fire and damnation preaching. Quite often revival meetings were held every night for a week or so. The boys would find out where the meetings were and go as often as possible to see the girls or in some cases a special girl. Even though these were "Church" meetings, the parents seemed to be pretty lenient. I guess even religious people don't want to keep their kids at home forever. When Mamma was 10 years old she was attending a meeting at Antioch Missionary Baptist Church, located at Sengtown, Tennessee. The local pronunciation is Sangtown. At that meeting there was a 13 year old red headed boy, riding a white pony. She knew his name was Garlan Mayes and for some reason she can't explain, she very boldly yelled, "Hi, Garlan" which didn't impress him at all at that time but evidently meant more as time went on. Her mother teased her about Garlan Mayes a lot and when she was old enough to have a party (pound supper) she made sure Garlan was invited. I'm told, Mamma Nancy and Daddy were very fond of each other. They both were out-going, fun loving people. When Mamma Nancy was born, Granddaddy Neal was 10 years old and he used to play kid games with her and just naturally spent time with her family, who were neighbors to the Neal family. He always said he raised her just the way he wanted her and then he married her, when she was 14 years old and he was 24. Garlan was five feet ten inches tall and weighed about 135 pounds most of his life. His eyes were small, squinty and blue. Gladys Neal Mayes is about five feet tall and never weighed over 100 pounds in her life. Her eyes are hazel. I may be prejudiced, but I think they were both quite good looking, As a matter of fact, I always thought there was no one prettier than my mother. Oh by the way, Garlan was also a good baseball catcher but, I guess not as good as his father. He could hit the ball farther than any little man I ever saw.

Daddy (Garlan) and Mamma (Gladys) were married in the back seat of a friend's car in Brackentown, Tennessee by "Judge" Thermon Butt on September 25, 1927. "Judge" Butt was actually the Magistrate. I think he had no legal training whatsoever but in those days a lot of business was conducted in Magistrate’s Court. After Mamma and Daddy were married in the back seat of a friend's car, they and their friends attended an all day singing with dinner on the ground, to celebrate and show off, I guess. They moved in with Granddaddy Neal and his six other kids, Basil, Garlon, Verlean, Fordie, Nadine and Gilbertine, ranging in age from 14 years to 10 months. My grandmother, Mamma Nancy, died when Gilbertine was just 3 months old and Mamma Nancy was just 33 years old. Since Mamma was the oldest (16 years) and a daughter at that, most of the work of raising kids and taking care of the house fell onto her.

I was born there the qualified nine months later, June 22, 1928. Daddy helped with the farming. We lived with them until I was 4 or 5 years old and then we moved into our first home of our own, the Stephens Cabin. It was close to the Mayes Farm but I'm not sure just where it was. It belonged to Daddy's Granny Em's family. Daddy helped Granddaddy Mayes with the farming. We lived there just a little over a year and then moved in with Mr. And Mrs. Berry Johnson, just over the line in Kentucky, probably because Granddaddy and Mammy Willie (his second wife, Willie Roberts Lambert) lived nearby. We lived in the same house with the Johnsons (I believe they had no children) and Daddy worked for our room and board, and I suppose a stipend also. Mamma helped with the housework. The Johnsons were very nice people. It was during this time that Granddaddy (George) died, and I suppose that's why we moved to the Spivy cabin near Granddaddy Neal and "the kids". We couldn't have lived with the Johnsons very long at all because Brother (Rudy) was born in the Spivy cabin and I was just 5 years and 10 months old at that time, and I was almost 5 years old when we moved into the Stephens cabin. When we lived in the Spivy Cabin, I started to school at Little Oak Grove School, which was a one room, wood frame building, supported by the county. The county also furnished bus transportation. Mr. Gus Brown had the bus contract and most of the time he drove the bus but sometime his oldest son (Cary at that time) would drive. His route ended at Portland High School, which he attended. All eight elementary grades were in that one room. However, I'm not sure all grades were represented. I believe there were 4 or 5 in my grade. As I mentioned earlier, Brother was born in the Spivy Cabin. Daddy was not a good farmer and he didn't like farming. I don't know which came first. So when I was about 7 or 8 years old, he went to Indianapolis to look for factory work. He heard P. R. Mallory Co. was looking for a few baseball players and if someone made the team they also were given a job. He made the team and he got a job with steady pay, which was quite a Godsend to him. By the way, I got a job at E. C. Adkins the same way, just before Mom and I were married. Everything went well for a couple years and we were all very happy in Indianapolis. Then Granddaddy Neal died December 8, 1938 when he was just 54 years old, leaving 4 daughters and 1 son at home. At that time he was a tenant farmer on the Bole Denning Farm. At the funeral home Uncle Basil, who had already left home and was living in Indianapolis, asked, "What are we going to do?" and Daddy said, "I'll just leave my job and move back to Tennessee." which he did. From that moment on, he was quite a hero to all the people who knew the circumstances. As I mentioned earlier, he didn't like farming but I never heard of him ever complaining, even though it was difficult for even a good farmer to get ahead on the tenant farming arrangement and tougher than ever with 8 mouths to feed. The owner supplied much of the equipment and all the seed and at harvest time he took one half of the profit. It was during the next few years that I got to know him very well. I was old enough and big enough to do a lot of the farm work and I can tell you, when you love your father and get to work side by side with him day in and day out you can ask for nothing better. And there is no way to give Mamma enough credit for the work she had to do with her new family. Somehow Daddy was able to come up with enough money to buy his own small farm, but it was just a very bare existence. Over the next few years, Uncle Garlan, Aunt Verlean and Aunt Fordie got married leaving Aunt Nadine, Aunt Gibby, Brother, Mamma, Daddy and me. When I was in the eighth grade, Daddy gave up farming again and was able to get back his old job at P. R. Mallory Co. Aunt Nadine died in 1944 at the age of 23 and shortly thereafter, Aunt Gibby married and moved out and it was back to Brother, Mamma, Daddy and me. At this time I was in High School and probably already in love with your mother.

The best I can conclude, the Mayes family did not quite conform to the more acceptable standards for family life as that which was (openly) performed by other families in the Bible belt. Probably to their detriment. Underneath the stairway in what we would call the closet, and Fat Pap called the scuttie, he kept a jug of moon shine (mountain dew) whiskey, from which he took a nip every morning of his life. Daddy said as far as he knew no one ever saw Fat Pap drunk, this was just an important ritual for some reason. The same can not be said for others in the family. They drank too much and they played with "poker" cards not Rook cards or other acceptable ones. Granddaddy played baseball on Sunday, which was a no no, and by the end of the game he was often so drunk he had to have help getting home. His brother Virgil didn't play baseball but he drank with the best of them. I mention this just to show the contrast between Mamma's family and Daddy's family.

Mamma's family was very religious and very active in Antioch Missionary Baptist Church. There was no alcohol in the home and no "poker" cards. One time Granddaddy found out that Uncle Basil had a deck of "poker" cards and he took them from him, threw them in the fireplace and gave him back what he paid for them. However, I guess you could say Uncle Basil chose to see things in a different light, and did not always lead the life his father had wished for him. He never showed any disrespect or lack of love for his father or his family; he chose to be his own man. They attended Sunday school and church regularly and all lived what we would call, good lives. Granddaddy cleaned the church and made sure a fire was going and the church warm, when needed. Without a title, he was the church leader. As is a good old southern custom, to show extra respect, he was called Uncle Jeff by practically everyone. In all of my life I have never known anyone who was more respected than Jeff Davis Neal. When Mamma Nancy died she left him with 7 children to raise. He was not a healthy man, he looked at least 20 years older than he really was and he died when he was only 55 years old. We can all be very proud of his legacy.

With their diverse backgrounds, I've often wondered how Mamma and Daddy ever made it. I have been witness to a few problems. I've seen Daddy come home with at least two sheets in the wind; I've seen him come home sicker than a dog and I've heard Mamma explain a few things to him. I've heard many discussions about playing baseball on Sunday. But there is no doubt in my mind they loved each other very, very much and were therefore able to overcome these and other differences. Daddy did drink a little, but very little and he did play baseball on Sunday, but not very often. Mamma is like her father in that she is supremely respected and loved by all who know her and Daddy loved everyone and everyone loved him. One of his old friends, Willard Perdue, told me, "If anyone couldn't get along with Garlan Mayes, they couldn't get along with anyone."

The following story was related to me by my brother, Rudy Mayes, which gives a great insight into the personality of our father, Garlan Mayes. The time was around 1953 or 1954 when Brother was 19 or 20 years old. Louise, the kids and I were renting a home owned by Mamma and Daddy at 2347 English Av., Indianapolis, IN. On this particular day, Daddy was painting the trim on the house and Brother was observing, without comment of course. Daddy put the ladder up to the tallest part of the eave and started climbing up with a bucket of paint. When he neared the top, he stopped and backed down, He said, "Rudy, go up there and paint that eave. I'm afraid to climb that high." Brother was nicely dressed and said, "The guys are picking me up any minute." Daddy replied, "Then you'd better paint fast." Brother took the bucket of paint, climbed the ladder and painted fast.

Brother said the story is exactly true. Another one: Daddy told him he was going to the movie show and would leave at 5:00 o'clock and if he wanted to go, be ready. At 5:00 o'clock Brother was in the bathroom combing his hair and Daddy left for the show, leaving Brother at home. Brother said that was the last time he wasn't ready on time. Another one: To preface this story, Brother had gotten into a fight at a basketball game and took a pretty good whipping and about the same time I dropped out of college. Daddy was in the cafeteria where he worked (P. R. Mallory Co.) having a cup of coffee before checking in and a good friend asked," What's the matter with you, Garlan. You look awfully down." and Daddy replied, " Well, my schoolin' boy just quit school and my fightin' boy just got whipped."

I could not have picked parents I respected and loved any more than the ones I got just by dumb luck.

When World War II started (December 1941), I was 13 years old and Louise was just barely 12 years old. When the war ended, with the defeat of Japan in September 1945, I was 17 years old and Louise was just a few days short of being 16 years old. I mention this just so you'll know we grew up in rather unusual times with the ever present prospect of war service immediately upon graduation from high school for me and years of worry and loneliness for Louise. Thank God, the war ended just before I reached draft age.

This is the most important part of my life and I wish I had the ability to explain better what it all meant to me, and just how I came to love Louise so very much. I first met her in grade school when she was about 13 years old. Since I was almost 15, she seemed pretty young, I guess. Some time later, I remember a friend of mine, Harold Barbee, told me once about her and that he thought she was really cute but that was all that amounted to. The next time I remember seeing her was when I was a clerk/soda jerk at the Tacoma Drug Store and she came in on her way home. The Tacoma Drug Store was located on the corner of Tacoma Ave. and East Washington Street in Indianapolis, In. and was joined to the Tacoma Theatre by a door next to the soda fountain. Friday nights and Sunday afternoons somehow evolved into teenager times at the movie. In other words, at those times it was a real teenage hangout for those who were too young to "car date". Since most of us were too young and/or too poor to actually date, we made arrangements to sit together in the movie and that's how our learning process began.

It must have been on a Friday night, when I was working with Earl Barnes, that Louise came in the drug store (she was about 15 years old at this time) and told Earl about some old guy following her around or something like that and asked if he would walk her home. Earl explained that he already had plans. I was too timid to say anything, but I sure wished she had asked me. God, she was cute. I didn't know it at the time but now I know she was made for me. I had a friend of hers, Virginia Hollingsworth, ask her if I could sit with her in the movie sometime and the rest is history.

At one time, a branch of Father Flannigan's Boys Town was located on South Keystone Ave. just north of the Citizens Gas and Coke Utility Co. in Indianapolis, In. Immediately after I moved to Indianapolis, it was sold to the City Park Dept. and became Keystone Community Center and another important part of our lives. There was a nice clubhouse, a softball diamond, a football field, a concrete basketball court and two asphalt tennis courts. Because I always loved to play so much, when I wasn't in school or working, I was doing something at the park. I don't remember the exact schedule but is seems that we met at least one night a week for meetings and dances, etc. I think maybe more often than that. A mention of Keystone Community Center would not be complete without also mentioning Emma Lou Voelker, the director. She was about the age of our parents and the only adult, about any of us knew, to whom we could speak absolutely openly and she had quite an advantage of knowing everyone of us very well. She was a really wise person who cared about us and assisted us in solving our problems and helped us stay together when obstacles seemed to get in the way. Louise and I got to know each other pretty well by sitting in the movies together and walking home together. Also, we were together a lot at Keystone Community Center. She would walk there with several of her friends and then we would hang out together.

We went to Sunday school and church at Woodside Methodist Church where we sang in the choir. This gave us choir practice night and Sunday together. After Church, several of us would go somewhere together, usually Millie Higgin's since she played the piano and we could sing and stuff. It's obvious, we spent as much time together as possible. One of the obstacles was baseball, but that's another story.

I don't remember any particular time when I fell in love with her but I do know it was pretty soon. It seems we grew up together and our love just sort of evolved and matured. After a while, when we were a little older, I started picking her up at her home. Her family seemed to accept me and they all made me feel really good. In fact, they took me with them on many family visits.

We both attended Arsenal Technical High School, thank goodness. It wasn't easy but we saw each other there as much as possible. The enrollment was about five or six thousand students. There were so many seniors that they had five or six senior roll rooms. Louise was a very good student and was in fact selected to be in the Tech Legion, which was a select group of students who had better than average grades and several teacher recommendations. She had another particular honor of being voted Secretary of her senior roll room. I was a rather indifferent student who got good grades in my favorite classes and not good grades in classes that did not interest me. The problem was, there were too many classes in the latter category. I kind of frittered away the first three years. I did however pass my subjects, except Spanish IV, which I had to take twice, and complete all my required subjects in three years. For some miraculous reason, in my junior year I took vocal music and in my senior year I took Expressions (acting). Because of this, in my senior year, I was chosen for the Tech Choir and was voted President, of all things, and was given the lead roll in the Senior Play. In all honesty, I was really pretty popular my last year. Since I could pick the subjects I wanted to take, I got straight A+ in my senior year. It's just a shame I wasted the first three years. This is called experience with which we are supposed to help our children.

At school, we had five minutes between classes and when one class was over I would rush to Louise's class, whenever possible, hold her hand and walk her to her next class. During most of my Senior year and all of her Senior year, I spent virtually every night at her house and I remember so well how I hated to go home. I never wanted to leave her and I still never want to leave her.

Well, that's the highlights and that just brings us up to about the time we got married. In between, there were dances, hay rides, sectional basketball games and all kinds of neat things. This will probably be the end of what I write you about our life together because when we started being parents there was such an explosion of activity I couldn't begin to cover it all. To sum it all up, I have loved her so much for so long that I don't know where I end and she begins.