What I Remember

Grandmother’s house, Whiteflat, Texas

Grandmother’s house, Whiteflat, Texas

The old photo in an oval frame with convex glass

of the Tilson farm in Virginia 

hung above the coat rack on the side wall 

next to the front door with its full length of retangualr glass panes 

in the house my mother moved to 

when she returned to Motley County, Texas

where she was born in 1927. 


In the late 1880s her grandfather 

had left that farm for Fort Worth

to become a cowboy, 

then headed further into the wild west 

a barren land of rattlesnakes, 

endless sky and a flat, rocky, cactus filled terrain. 



As kids in the ‘50s, Daddy driving west from Illinois for summer visits 

we fantasized as soon as the terrain changed. 

The entire journey entered slow motion. 

We were no longer in a station wagon. 

We were in a covered wagon. 

We knew we were. 

We could feel it. 

We were on horseback. 

Our eyes squinted, searching for our destination, 

wanting to hurry  and yet, 

wanting to savor the heat, 

each town exactly 30 miles apart. 

the distance the stage coach could ride in a day 

evidence, we were indeed part of history. 


The further west we drove, 

the closer we got to Grandmother's house, 

the farther apart the gas stations were

with their very dirty bathrooms. 

Sometimes we drove on past. 

Pulled over on the side of the road 

and carefully stepped out 

watching for rattlesnakes 

before we squatted down.

West Texas Road Trip, 1949

West Texas Road Trip, 1949


We had heard the story many times 

our mother, three years old,

stepping out of the house

her daddy yelling, 

“Grace Laverne, you stop right now.” 

He grabbed a gun

shot a rattlesnake 

right in front of her. 


The rattles remained on top the buffet

to be revered every summer we went to visit

the house that was nothing like 

the old Virginia farm house. 

Not two story and stately. 

a small, four room house,

added onto several times. 

First, the indoor bathroom

then, a large, bunkhouse type bedroom 

filled with bunkbeds and twin beds we could lay on 

next to the open, screened windows 

and listen to summer sounds 

during the day, 

cicadas and cows mooing 

during the night, 

the sounds of wild animals 

far off in the distance. 

Visiting the old homeplace

Visiting the old homeplace