Not What It Seems

I'm working on a personal writing project that has me going back through family pictures I've looked at a million times over the years. It didn't take me long to realize that you can look at something over and over without really seeing it.This all started when I decided to interview my Uncle Bud—known for his prodigious memory—and write down some of his recollections about his parents, brothers, and sisters. Originally, I had planned to work on it for a few weeks—just transcribe the interviews, and that would be that. Now I can see myself working on it for years because the story is so much bigger than I thought. I want to interview my mother and her other brother, my Uncle Chick. I'm lucky in that my cousin Jimmy loves genealogy and has already done the heavy lifting in outlining the family tree. What I want to do is take that tree and put some leaves on it—tell the stories.

Look at this snapshot of my Uncle Ferrell—Mama's older brother—and their father. It's one of the few pictures we have of Granddaddy McCranie, and it's the only one I've ever seen of him with one of his children. All these years, I've been interpreting this image as a happy homecoming—Uncle Ferrell home from the service after World War II. But as I've learned, that's not what's going on here. This picture was made when Uncle Ferrell was home on leave, after basic training but before he shipped out to the Pacific and heavy combat. The family was visiting Granddaddy McCranie's mother, who was living on the Brumbaugh farm in Harpersville. They were all about to say a very hard goodbye. 

Uncle Ferrell would make it safely home when the war ended in 1945. After he got back, he and Uncle Bud helped their father build the barn that still stands on the McCranie home place. Granddaddy died in an accident in 1947, before the barn was finished. Over the years, Uncle Bud would have to add larger sheds around the original structure. But he would never in a million years tear it down.

My older cousin Richard, photographed on the north side of the barn in the 1950s.

Comments

[Cindy]

I'm so happy to hear that you are working on this! I always did love to hear Uncle Bud tell a story. Daddy too! I remember him telling me how on Sat. night when the boys would get outside to bathe, Grandaddy would on a dark night sometimes sneak out there with a strop and pop them on the bare behind, just to get the blood pumping and watch them scatter lol. And, how sometimes when Daddy would be walking home from Big Daddys house in the dark, Leck Ford would jump out of a ditch or from behind a tree and just grab him and hold his arms down so he couldn't fight back and holler and make scary noises!! Daddy could always make me laugh telling those tales. Last time I saw Uncle Bud he was telling me how Daddy would scram whenever the kin would come by for a visit, especially Aunt Nancy........I'm not familiar with her who was she anyhow??? I love the pic. of Daddy & Grandaddy and the barn too. Can't tell you how many times I've been stuck in that hayloft.....Daddy would come get me .... ;)

[Valerie]

Love that! Aunt Nancy (and I think she spelled it differently) was before my time, but apparently, she always made the children "give her some sugar," which they didn't like. Aunt Rosalie used to grab us at church and tell us she was Aunt Nancy and to give her a hug. So we finally just started greeting her with "Hi-dey, Aunt Nancy!" I told Uncle Bud I want to share our project with the family, but first he gets to approve all the copy. He gave me his first edits on Sunday, and I must say, I did pretty well! Not to much red ink:)