AfriGeneas Writers Forum
It is funny as I think about it, because I really do not know that much about that old house in which my grandmother, Martha Crowell House Ingram, owned and lived in. It was a house built in the 1880s in a rural Gold Hill, N.C....Gold Hill is one of several townships in Rowan County. Her husband John House brought the deed from Andrew Crowell, Martha's father, as a wedding present and in that time frame the house was built. Six children were born inthat house, one was my mother, and as of the present those six have long made their transistion. When John died, Granny married Stokes Ingram, and helped out as a farmer, but he died in 1931. Later on, about 1942, Granny died, and the old house went to her heirs who allowed the house to be lived in by my older sister. At this time, I used to go there to play with my neices and nephews. The old house stood as long as it could: lots of holes in the roof where rain always came through. We often had to put buckets down. The old house faced the highway and between the highway and the house was the Yadkin Railroad where you could hear that old train coming. Near the house there was the General Store owned by Guy Russell where we often bought a few odds and ends. And sometimes, my sister and all of u s children managed to go down a road a piece to a white woman named Mrs. Goodman who had some real nice vegetables. Then we all come back to the house, where my sister spent time cooking, canning, and we would sit around in one room sometimes while the lamp was on, and we would sing and sometimes tell stories. Out in the back the old field, quite dry, but we had times playing in the fields. We often caught the bus to go into town, which was like about twenty miles away, and we would get things like clothes, and sometimes goodies, and books. I remember the old Mobile Library bus coming around and we would borrow some books. This was by the way in the 1950s. The old house was beginning to be more delapidated, and just seemed as though it was going down hill. My sister and her children later came to live with me and my mom in D.C. You see I lived in d.C. but would go there in Gold Hill to visit for lots of days during the summer, and sometimes in the winter. The old house is no more; it is just a big old piece of a lot with some weeds and stuff growing, and probably snakes and everything else. Last time I really saw that house, the only thing left was a chimney. Yet, it is funny, I imagine sometimes seeing those folks who were there when the house came about, and hearing them, and taking a few conversations from my mom, I can almost feel their presence with me. That was Grandma's House.