A Little Twig from Ladonia (My Family Tree)
By Mary Katherine James Dowell -- 1987
Provided by Glenn Ann Dowell Hunt
Good Old Days
This does not seem like the Ladonia as we see it today. But it was like that. There was even an Opera House on the top floor of the City Hall. I well remember the shows and plays that were put on there, a lot of local talent and some brought in. What I remember best about the Opera House is going to hear Cyclone Davis, with my grandfather. Can you imagine a small girl sitting on the edge of her chair listening to this man?
James Harvey "Cyclone" Davis was a Congressman at Large from 1912-1914. He was a powerful speaker and aided other hopefuls running for office by his speech making abilities.
My Daddy Roan was a staunch Democrat. He always believed his party came next to his family and church. He would probably turn over in his grave if he knew who I had voted for these last years. To tell the truth, he would be right and I deserve a swift kick in the pants.
I heard him and Mother Roan talking one day, and he said, "Did you know Mr.___Norvus[?]_____ was a Republican?" This man's daughter was my best friend and for months after that overheard conversation, I was in awe of him. I thought of him as a monster with two heads and horns. But do you know he was the same kind of man he had always been, even if he was a Republican!
Mr. __________ worked in the office of the Ladonia Oil Mill. It was my friend's job, each afternoon, to take the milk bucket to her father so he could milk the cow and bring the full bucket of milk home with him, after work.
Of course, I had to go with her to see it well done. The cow was kept in a pasture close to the oil mill. We had to go through the cotton yard to get to the mill.
The cotton has been ginned and was waiting to be shipped out by railroad. How many children of today have ever played on ginned bales of cotton or seen a big sheet iron building brimming full of cotton seed? Not many. I know my grandchildren never have. Not even a gin in operation.
The Good Old Days... and they were just that. Everyone was your friend and you did not know the meaning of the word fear. Maxine was the dearest friend I ever had and I do not even know where she lives today. I wonder if she ever thinks of me? I hope if she does, her memories are as pleasant as mine. I even remember her birthday - October 12.
Her mother's book provided to us by:
Glenn Ann Dowell Hunt