Chapter 3: 1942-1943, Orphans

Henry had helped his mother move back to Huntsville after his father’s death. Ann had to sell most of her furnishings to generate enough money for the move and attempt to make the transition a little easier for the children. Even so, much to her dismay, Henry had not lingered after getting her and the girls settled in Alabama.

2 Henry was preoccupied with pleasing his new wife, and he simply didn’t have the time or resources to help his mother and his sister’s orphaned children. In fact, his own daughter was an impediment to making this new marriage work. “Erna can stay here and help you with the girls,” he had told her.

3 Ann was old and tired, and now she was raising four little girls by herself. Henry was right about one thing: Erna would be a big help. Nevertheless, she was still a child. “I’ll go and see Sam and see if he can help me,” she thought.

4 Sam was getting ready to leave for work when she arrived at his home. His wife, Nannie, had never concealed the fact that she didn’t care much for her mother-in-law. She resented the way that Ann and Virgil had put Sam and his brothers to work in the cotton mill when they were boys. Hence, Nannie stood in the kitchen while Ann made her appeal to her son.

5 “I can barely support my own family, Mama,” Sam shrugged in exasperation. “Here’s a couple of dollars. I wish I could do more,” he concluded as he grabbed his lunch pail and headed for the door.

6 Ann collapsed in a nearby rocking chair and stared at the wall. “I really am on my own,” she thought.

7 About fifteen minutes later, Doodle pushed through the front door with Wayne in her arms. She nodded at the strange woman sitting in the rocking chair and went on through to the kitchen.

8 “Who’s that?” she asked her mother-in-law. “Oh, that’s that old indian – Sam’s mother!” she exclaimed in disgust.

9 Doodle turned around and went back into the front room. “I’m Buford’s wife, and this is our son,” she began. “Would you like to hold him?”

10 Ann nodded and received the baby into her lap. She smiled, kissed him on top of his head and whispered, “God bless you.”

11 When Ann returned home, her neighbor was pacing back and forth on her front porch. “Oh, Ann, you’ve got to help me!” the woman cried. “Jimmy has burnt his fingers on the hot stove, and he won’t stop crying,” she explained. “We don’t have any money for a doctor, and I heard that you could talk the fire out of a burn.”

12 Ann stooped over and took the little boy’s hand in hers. She closed her eyes and whispered something over the fingers. By the time she had finished, Jimmy had stopped crying and the redness around his fingers had clearly dissipated. “He’ll be just fine now,” Ann sighed as she climbed the stairs and went into her own house and closed the door.

13 The next day, she summoned the director of the Baptist Orphanage to her home. “I’m sorry to trouble you,” she began. “But I’ve got to make sure that the girls are going to be taken care of when I’m gone. I’m old, and sick, and tired, and there’s no one left to care for them when I’m gone,” she finished.

14 “Well, of course, we’ll take them Miss Hendrix – if no one in the family steps forward,” the man smiled. He reached over and patted her hand in a display of sympathy. “You don’t know what a relief that is,” she sighed as the tears again rolled down her cheeks.

15 Ann Hendrix died in March of 1943. At the conclusion of her funeral service, Roy’s brother stepped forward. “I’ll take Betty, Nancy and Myra,” he said. As a consequence, Virgie’s daughters would be raised by their Uncle Fred. And, since there was no money to purchase a tombstone for Ann, he took care of that too.