I got to go to a local family reunion last week. You know the drill, there was food, fun, music and good conversation. It was the Delta in all its glory. Sara and I felt right at home.
The fourth Sunday in July has been a traditional family reunion date for both Sara and me for years.
Now, it has been at least 10 years since I went to an Ingram Family reunion and it has been about that long since Sara carried me to one of hers.
My last one was in Cleveland at a city park in that flat-as-a-flitter place called the Delta.
Sara's last was in Vardaman at a nice camphouse near a lake.
Southern folk know the routine: Saturday was the day the kids played softball and rode motorcycles. The older folks tossed horse-shoes – I'm not making this up – and sat under big trees drinking “refreshments.”
Supper was served and then somebody pulled out a guitar or sat down at the piano. The kids all slept in one big room and adults found couches or rented a room at the local motel.
Everybody was up early on Sunday and if we didn't go to church, there was some kind of church service on the grounds.
Sunday dinner was the big meal and those who just came for one day, came then. There was more singing and those who had far to drive usually left first, but only after promising to be there again next year.
Ingram/Wood
I can remember going to family reunions as a young child in Kilmichael.
It was the 1960s and Uncle Jake and Aunt Allie Ann lived on a dirt road somewhere way out in the country.
Theirs was the big Mississippi farm home we all remember. It was painted white and there was a porch all the way across the front and a yard full of kids playing badminton or softball.
The adults were around back, and being Baptist at an early age, this was where I first saw those “refreshments” alluded to earlier, served up to all who wanted.
I remember an artesian well down the road and cold water flowing from a concrete pipe. I remember Uncle Jake, a farmer, in a pair of faded blue overalls sitting on his front porch and Aunt Allie Ann running the show in a print dress, white hair and apron.
I remember Uncle Pete who really enjoyed those “refreshments.” I wish I could say I remember all the old stories they told. What I do remember most is the laughter.
Hollis/Hollingsworth
Sara is the youngest of eight. Her mother was in the middle of 13. There were lots of them, they were from Calhoun County and they loved each other like family should.
Yes, I knew where Hollis Switch and Slate Springs were long before I moved away from West Point. I married into this family and always met new kinfolk. Sara's mother pointed out we weren't really kin to some of them.
Ike hunted and raised cattle until he was 90. Hattie Mae would dance with any man, boy or child that stepped toward her. There were the twins, Dink and Sugar Dink. Joe had the means and usually hosted the affair. These reunions moved around from church, to civic center and precinct buildings in Vardaman, Slate Springs, Calhoun City and even as far south as Eupora.
These reunions were bigger than what I was used to. There was always more food, more people and more fun at these events. Sara's seven brothers and sisters clued me in on who was who and what their claim was to family fame.
Family
We always said we would be back next year. Living in Texas for 10 years broke that cycle.
When we moved back, many of my aunts and uncles had gone on to be with the Lord. We try to keep up on Facebook. We have them drop by occasionally and of course we see them at weddings and funerals.
Sara and I traveled to Texas this year for a vacation with our two grown boys, wives and grandchildren. I guess you could call it a family reunion. It sure felt like one.
As the fabric of family in our country slowly frays, I'm glad we have found a new, smaller way to bind it tight.
Floyd Ingram is Editor of your Clarksdale Press Register. Woods, Hollingsworths, Ingrams and Hollis' can reach him at 662-627-2201.
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