Chapter 3: 1899, Visiting and travel

As Press secured the wagon and horses for the crossing, Daniel leaned over the rail of the ferryboat and watched the Elk River hurry by. It was hard to believe that twenty years had passed since he had floated down this river into Alabama from Tennessee. He was still strong and able then, but he was old and arthritic now.

2 “Were almost ready, Daddy,” Press shouted from the other side of the boat. “You probably ought to sit down somewhere,” he advised. Daniel slowly turned away from the rail and readjusted the crutches under his arm. When he was seated, the ferry began to pull out into the water.

3 Daniel allowed himself a smile as they headed for the opposite bank of the river. It was, after all, a beautiful day; and he was going to see his “Limestone County grandchildren,” as he described them to his friends. There was John, Jess, Lou and George; and Press’ wife was expecting another. “They are like this sunshine,” he thought. “They make me feel better.”

4 John, the oldest, was his favorite. He was nine years old now, but Daniel had started calling him “Clip” when he was two years old. “He’s a little clip of a feller,” he had said at the time, and it had stuck to the child like glue. Clip was more outgoing and affectionate than the other children, but Daniel could honestly say that he loved them all.

5 As soon as the ferry reached the opposite shore, Press jumped up and got the wagon and horses ready. “Be careful of those barrels,” his father instructed him. “Those may be the last ones I’m able to make.”

6 “Oh Daddy, you shouldn’t say stuff like that. I’m sure you’ve got at least a few more barrels in you,” Press smiled. “Maybe so,” Daniel admitted. “But we never know, do we?” he asked without expecting a response.

7 Press spread out a quilt for the old man in the back of the wagon and helped him up into the bed for the ride to the house. “Try to take it easy on me today, Son,” the old man smiled. “I’ll try to avoid the ruts,” Press promised.

8 Nevertheless, the roads which they traveled were unpaved, and the ride was bumpy despite his son’s best efforts. The old man grimaced in pain at several of the jolts, but he kept telling himself that they only had a few more miles to go.

9 As they pulled into the yard, the children squealed and ran toward the wagon. By the time it had rolled to a complete stop, they had surrounded it.

10 “Where’d all these children come from?” Daniel asked in mock disbelief. “We live here,” the little girl volunteered. “Well, I guess you do,” Daniel smiled again.

11 He slowly climbed out of the wagon. The ride had made him more than a little stiff and sore, but that didn’t prevent him from patting each one of the children on the head and giving them a piece of hard candy. “Thanks, Granddaddy,” John was the first to exclaim.

12 “Hello, Mary,” Daniel waved as he entered the house. “Where do you want me?” “I got you in the front bedroom, Pa,” she replied. “That’ll be good. I think I’ll take a quick nap before supper.”

13 That evening, while they were eating supper, it began to rain (and it wouldn’t stop for three days). “Mary, this is the best fried chicken I’ve had in years!” Daniel exclaimed. “Oh, Pa, you said that on your last visit,” his daughter-in-law laughed.

14 After supper, the children insisted that their grandfather tell them one of his stories. Daniel sat in a rocking chair by the fireplace, and the children gathered around him on the floor.

15 He told them about his father, and how he had fought in the Revolutionary war. “He helped get this country started,” he finished.

16 “All right children, that’s enough. You’ve worn your granddaddy out today. Tell him good night and let’s get ready for bed,” Mary commanded. At that, each one of the children got up off the floor and hugged the old man before hurrying to the back of the house.

17 “I made that little walnut table for you,” the old man pointed as his daughter-in-law returned from tucking in the children. “Oh, thank you, Pa! You didn’t have to go and do that.” “I wanted to. I hope you like it.” “I absolutely love it,” Mary assured him.

18 “Well, daddy, we’d better get some rest before we go visitin in the mornin,” Press interjected. “I guess you’re right about that,” Daniel agreed. “I am feeling really tired tonight,” he admitted.

19 The next morning, Mary had biscuits in the oven, and she was frying up some fatback on the stove top. “Go and get your daddy up. Breakfast is almost ready,” she declared without turning to her husband.

20 When Press returned to the room a few minutes later, he was as white as a sheet. “What’s wrong?” Mary asked as she wiped her hands on her apron. “Daddy’s gone,” Press said flatly as he sat down in one of the chairs surrounding the table.

21 “He’s cold and stiff. He must’ve died sometime in the night,” he explained. As tears welled up in her eyes, Mary rushed over to her husband and threw her arms around his neck.

22 “My brothers will be expecting him to be buried on that side of the river in the family plot, but the river will be so swollen there won’t be any gettin him back across that for days and days,” Press sighed. “Your brothers will be disappointed, but there’s no helpin it,” Mary comforted.

23 “That little cemetery on that rise a mile or two from the river – what’s it called?” He struggled to recall. “Dement?” Mary offered. “That’s the one,” Press affirmed. “I guess we can bury him there. Anyway, there’s a lot of things to do before we can do any of that.”

24 “I’d better go and tell the children,” Press sighed again. “We’ll tell them together,” his wife offered as she took his hand in hers. They looked at each other through the tears in their eyes and turned toward the unpleasant task before them.

25 It would be hard for everyone to acknowledge that Daniel Miller had crossed the river for the last time, but it would be especially hard on Jess. It was, after all, his birthday today. Nevertheless, the couple slowly got up and moved toward the door to the back bedroom.

26 Now Press and Mary Miller were the parents of eight children: Clip, Jess, Lou, George, Gladys, Tollie, Loyd and Pansy.

27 John “Clip” Miller married Mittie Favors, and they had nine children together. Their names were: Ermonie, Raymond, Luke, Dick, Pearl, Doodle (Edna), Bowser, Buck and Sis.