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| W.A. and Sallie Templeton were my Great grand father and mother. |
It was held at Uncle Marvin's ranch, a few miles down the road from the Lone Grove, Texas Post Office. Uncle Marvin Bales was married to my great aunt Lillie Templeton. They lost their only son in WWII in the Pacific. I remember seeing a hand tinted picture of him in uniform on the mantle and wondering what happened to him. It wasn't until I did an extensive family tree a few years ago I discovered what happened to him. He is buried at the National Cemetery in San Antonio.
Uncle Marvin had one eye. He lost one to barbed wire. Not being a vain man, his glasses had one smoked or frosted lens. In his pocket was one of those transistor radio type hearing aids with a volume control he was adept at using, especially when his wife was yelling at him which she seemed adept at doing. He was a wiry man who always wore the uniform of small Texas ranchers of the day, khakis with a denim work shirt, boots and a Stetson.
The house had a breezeway. Today, this is a seldom used house design, but worked wonderfully. The kitchen and dinning room was on one side and the living room and bedrooms on the other and in between was a large porch. Every room had a door onto the porch. The house was angled to make the most of southerly and northerly breezes. He had what seemed to be a 3 to 5 acre garden. He raised a few cattle and Spanish goats and chickens and a milk cow. I envy folks of that day's self sufficiency.
Once, Marvin was having difficulty with squirrels getting under his house so he set out traps under the house. The only thing he caught was a skunk. They had to move out for a few days.
Back to the reunion. There had to be what seemed like a hundred people there. "Sodie waters" were on ice, huge gallon jars of iced tea sweated in the Texas heat. Three whole goats were being turned on a huge spit over mesquite wood, long before mesquite was trendy, it was just handy in those days.
Everyone brought an ice cream churn and a quilt to be used for as the seat for a child who had to help hold it in place as it was churned. By hand, as the electric churn had yet to reached the Texas Hill Country of the early 60's. Fresh fruit would be added. Uncle Marvin had lots of peach trees and I remember tons of peach ice cream.
Every woman brought her best side dish with potato salad being the leading choice. Each one pulling out their best church social repertoire. Jello molds containing God knows what. The latest recipes making the church supper circuit were offered up with pride. Mayo sales had to spike during reunion season. And the variety of deviled eggs. Ah, hundreds of deviled eggs. Some mustard based, some mayo based, some dusted with paprika, some plain. You could sample every variation. Does anybody make deviled eggs these days?
Children were fed first and sent off to hinterlands of the ranch to get out from under foot. The adults would gather and the oldest person, still of sound mind, would be asked to say grace. Everyone brought lawn chairs, the cheap aluminum ones with the green nylon straps. They'd sit and small groups with paper plates on laps and gossip about those not there or out of ear shot. "Did you hear about..." "Isn't it a shame about..." "I heard she..." "Poor..." "Did you taste her salad, it was way too... salty, sweet, bitter..." "Boy she has aged, not looking well at all..." the list went on... And on it went until the sins of everyone were discussed, criticisms made and advice offered.
So as my kindred sit under live oaks down by the Broad Branch Creek today and consume fried catfish, potato salad and hopefully deviled eggs, my thoughts, memories and heart is with them.
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