ONCE UPON A TOBACCO FIELD
So... in the center of my living room rests a fairly small table, worse for wear, quite plain, obviously cracked from time and old varnish.
It has been in this house since my grandmother passed away in 1983. Mom always called it a tobacco table, and I first thought it had been used to house smokes or chaw... or at least tobacco.
But my mother always added a bit more to the story behind this name.
Gramma Herrington (Ma as all called her) at the age of 13 hoe(d) tobacco, (for an entire harvest season I understood) received $1.50, bought this table, and... carried it home. I let that sink in a bit... the 13 years old. the hoeing tobacco for days on end for 150 pennies. And carrying it home at that age... And then the clincher: Before the War of 1862-1865, The Civil War... This is the same old lady who came to live with my grandparents in Terre Haute when my mom was a young girl. Mom said she had to sleep with her great-grandmother because there was no bedroom... they slept in the dining room on a roll away. This old lady used to moan and beg the angels of death not to take her while her bones were in Indiana. She made it obvious in her petitions that she wanted to die in Missouri, in Macon County... where she was born... where she had hoed tobacco at 13... Mom said that hearing all that groaning and wheedling with Death's henchmen really scared her... Well, I reckon!!!
I looked her up on Find a Grave even though I have put many a flower on her grave every Memorial Day... I found her photo... Not a beauty... lol but sturdy stock.
I really like this old table. Thank you, great, great grandmother... or rather "Ma..."
Whimsy and Hugs!
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