My life started well in the backwoods of eastern Tennessee. My father was a farmer and loved the smell of his land. He loved to talk all day about the war, ?Theys ain?t gonna when nothen fight?n like a buncha chickens? he?d most often say.
He also loved my mother, brother and me. I barely remember my mother now for she died when I was very young. All I remember is her dressing me in little pretty dresses for church ad I would try my best not to let her because I was a bit of a tom boy with dirty little fingernails, mest up hair and the bottoms of my feet were as black as coal. Nevertheless my mother would try her very best to make me look pretty for Sunday morning church.
The day was April 17,1921. I remember this day well for this was the day that me and my mother had our last struggle for that Sunday morning dress. ?Jenny Fraiser you?d better be still, you?s gotta were this here dress for church,? my mother yelled
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