"Baker's Dozen" book: biographical narratives of Baker County, Florida people (Pt. 1)

File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by La Viece Smallwood
(no email address), through Carl Mobley (cmobley@magicnet.net).

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                          Baker's Dozen

               By La Viece (Moore-Fraser) Smallwood
                          Published 1993

Copies available complete with photos, Favorite Recipes, Cracker Jargon,
                     Signs, and Superstitions

Permission has been granted by the author for posting to this page.

Contains biographical narratives and genealogical information of the
following Baker County folks:

* Otis and Mattie (Crews) Canaday (in pt. 1)
* Annie Mae (Mobley) Thrift (in pt. 1)
* Emily Davis Harvey (in pt. 1)
* Ella Dowling Taylor (in pt. 1)
* Bufort and Joyce (Fish) Thrift (in pt. 1)
* Nellie Gaskins (in pt. 1)
* Funston and Hazel Richards (in pt. 1)
* Abigale Camilla Stephens "Abbie" Cook
* B.R. "Bob" and Myrtle (Mattox) Burnsed
* Jimmy and Marie (Rowe) Burnsed
* McKinley & Daniel Crews
* Clyde and Mamie Sands
* Mary Finley
_____________________________________________________________________________


                 ABIGALE CAMILLA STEPHENS "Abbie" COOK
                            Macclenny 1981

     In 1940 Abbie Cook traded her wood burning solid iron stove for a
new electric range.

     "I sure wish I had it back. That wood stove cooked the best
biscuits and cornbread you've ever tasted," she said.

     "Of course, today's cornbread will never taste the same as that
we used to make in the old days," she said, explaining that the
success to making cornbread was in the texture and freshness.

     "It takes a water mill grinding the corn slow and easy to produce
good meal," she said. "That stuff you get from the grocery shelf is
older than I am."

     As the 87-year-old widow talks about the past she smiles and says
that cooking on a wood stove "is not difficult at all."

     "I prefer oak and hickory wood to pine" she explained. "Pine wood
makes too much smut."

     Abbie explained the wood burning stove had four burners situated
directly over a fire box. "The burners were called 'eyes," she said,
and could be removed by the use of an instrument called a stove key.

     "The old iron pots we used back then were made with round
bottoms, just perfect to fit over the hole," she said.

     :If I needed a real hot fire I removed the eye and placed the pot
directly over the fire," she said. "If I wanted a warm burner I moved
my pot to the back of the stove completely off the burner," she said
adding "it was always warm back there and provided a slow-cooking
temperature.

     "I couldn't cook at all when I married," she laughed, "and all my
husband knew how to cook was Georgia cornbread."

     Georgia cornbread? "What's that I asked"?

     "Well, it consisted of plain meal, salt and water cooked slowly
on the top of a stove, preferably on a greased iron griddle," she
explained.

     "I never did care for it. It tasted just like meal," she said. "I
preferred cooking hoe cake." Abbie made hoe cake by using self-rising
flour, an egg and milk. it was then baked as the Georgia cornbread on
top of a stove. Both were turned over after browning on one side.

     "I wanted my three children to eat what was good for them and if
they didn't like certain foods, I'd keep adding to the recipe until I
hit on a combination they liked," she said.

     Abbie's popular recipe for beef liver is a favorite.

     As a young housewife in 1920, Abbie completed a four-year
correspondence course at the Women's institute of Domestic Arts and
Sciences in Scranton, Pa. It included the skills of drafting one's own
patterns, tailoring, hand embroidery and applique.

     "I received instructions and had to select the suggested
materials," she said. "Upon completion I'd mail the article to them
for correction. I had rules like a carpenter," she continued. "I had
tools for each required skill and they could tell if I used the
correct or incorrect ones." Abbie still has the tools she used to
create the fashions she made.

     Her talents and skills have resulted in many of her items being
sold in gift shops labeled, "Handmade by Grannie Cook."

     Her small cottage home is adorned with her inspired paintings of
seascapes, wooded scenes, and still life .... things she loves. She
attends classes in watercolor, painting and pin and ink sketching. The
talented homemaker has received a certificate of appreciation from the
Agency on Aging for her outstanding contributions and talents.

     Abbie Cook, a petite women with an obvious tender spirit, was
born near the rich Talapoosa River muck lands located near Daviston,
in Talapoosa County, Alabama. She came to Macclenny in 1929 with her
husband Fount who was working for a large turpentine company. The two
met when Abbie, her daddy, Thomas Aaron Stephens, and her sister were
taking a ride in their rubber tire buggy, the first in the county.

     "We kept passing this nice looking young man on the road, but
never had met him formally. I'd heard who he was because my dad and
brothers had met him, but one night my sister and I had driven our
horse and buggy to a neighborhood party and he was there. After we met
properly he asked if he could drive me home in his horse and buggy. I
said yes and he went off to borrow a lap robe," she said explaining
that everyone used lap robes when they rode in a horse and buggy to
keep warm.

     Meanwhile though, Abbie remembered her sister and knew she'd have
to accompany her back home.

     "He was mad," said Abbie, "and stayed mad four months."

     Later however, he was tempted into stopping by her family's apple
cider press to drink apple cider and a friendship developed.

     A turpentine man, William Fountain Cook, found himself smittened
by the Talapoosa River damsel and when he heard she was leaving town
with her sister to visit some relatives he emphatically told her she
was going to stay there and marry him.

     "I couldn't do that," said Abbie. "I explained I had to go on
this trip with my sister, so he said he would come along too."

     "We drove by the pastor's house, got married and left by train on
the trip to my relatives."

     That was on Dec. 31, 1911. Ambitious "Fount" already had a
furnished home and a horse and buggy as his assets, not too common for
someone his age in those days.

     For the next few years Fount, operations manager for the
turpentine company, and Abbie moved around from place to place. From
Alabama with a daughter Wilma, to Georgia, where a son Willard was
born, and on into Florida where another son Weldon arrived.

     The year 1929 found them in Macclenny. "We lived in one of the
Powers homes between the railroad tracks and Highway 90," said Abbie
as she described the city as it was then.

     Eventually turpentine work became slow. Fount operated a fruit
stand in Haines City for a short time, then decided upon retirement in
Macclenny where all three of his children had found their mates and
were making their homes.

     One of the fondest memories I have is as far back as a teen-ager
sitting on the beautifully landscaped backyards of Fount and Abbie
Cook looking over the neat and trim vegetable garden that lined their
fence. I loved to hear them tell the engrossing stories of their
youth. I was fascinated when they told me about the sheep skin
document for land that the President of the United States signed on
one of her grandfather's land deeds. I was captivated when she told me
about how she and her family, and neighbors, felt (with fear and
suspicion) about the birth of automation. She said, "We'd heard dad
talk about these things that went without a horse. Our house was off
the main road, but we could hear the car when it passed by. After it
went by we would all run down the road to see what kind of tracks it
made. We didn't want to go near it," she would say with a shiver. "The
horses would run away when one came near them," she'd say. Even the
county doctor had to park his new car for awhile until the settlers
and houses could accept a car."

     Then there was the story of seeing her first train. "We kept
hearing talk about something known as a train," she'd say with a
chuckle. "Dad knew where we could go see one as it came around a
curve, so we got loaded up in the horse and buggy to go look at it.
Dad took the horses off to tie them up and left us in the wagon. We
heard it coming before we saw it. It was blowing and blowing making a
dreadful noise. We got so terrified we all jumped out of the wagon and
climbed under it. We never could tell people who asked much about it
"cause we didn't see much," she said. .

     "My father, Thomas Aaron Stephens, and my mother, Frances Marion
(so named for the great Revolutionary War hero) Gross, bought land
adjoining my granddaddy. During the war the government commissioned
him to care for his aged parents and other families left without
husbands or fathers while the war was going on. It was my father's
duty to supply them with corn, for animal feed and corn meal for
bread. They had chickens for meat cows for milk, and a garden for
vegetables, but dad watched out for their other needs as well. such as
illness or help around the farm."

     She related how the preachers of that time used to preach a lot
about the devil and he became so real to her that she developed a
petrified fear of running into him. it was her job in the family to go
to the spring for water when the well was low. If she went late she
could imagine seeing devils everywhere, she said. Once she stumbled
over a drunk in their cane patch and she just knew for sure it was the
devil himself!"

     Abbie Cook was a pleasant, impressionable, talented yet humble
lady. When she smiled it was as though a candle had been lit in a dark
room. It was so contagious it would quickly spread and light up your
heart. Visitors to her home were always welcome and surely was as I,
captivated by all the homeyness of her domicile. On every wall and in
every nook she displayed relics that characterized her talents. She
sewed, she cooked, she gardened, she painted lovely pictures. it
seemed the older she became, the more she undertook to do. Her
energies seemed endless. I'll always remember Miss Abbie as a beloved
friend, and cherish the many memories I have of her and 'Mr. Fount'.
They attest to a by-gone era and folks like them are not likely to
come our way again. Her little cottage, situated to the rear of her
daughter Wilma's home on the corner of Hwy. 121 and McIver St. stands
today as when she left, it a constant reminder when I ride by of a
by-gone era that will always tug at my heartstrings.

UPDATE: Abigale Camilla Cook died September 24, 1985. She is buried
next to her husband, William Fountain Cook who died Feb. 10, 1966, in
Woodlawn Cemetery south of Macclenny.

Her daughter Wilma Amelia (Mrs. Jessie Franklin Morris) lives in
Macclenny. Son Weldon Manuel Cook and his wife Arlene (Ruis) also live
in Macclenny. Another son James Willard Cook died Dec 28, 1987 in
Lakeland Florida. Wilma and Jessie have an adopted son, Robert Allen
Morris, who was born Oct. 3, 1952. Allen's children are: Stephen, born
in 1980, Michael born in 1982. Weldon and Arlene have three children
Lori, Clay and Jan. Willard had one child, James Willard, Jr. (Jim),
who lives in Sebring Fl.

_____________________________________________________________________________

                B.R. "Bob" and MYRTLE (MATTOX) BURNSED
                        May 1979 Glen St. Mary

     Former State Representative and County Judge B.R. "Bob" Burnsed
of Baker County has it "made in the shade" these days. Retirement for
him has meant enjoying the fruits of his labor, with wife Myrtle, on
an 800-acre farm four miles north of Glen St. Mary.

     Country-style, Myrtle Burnsed cooks three large meals a day.
Anyone stopping by their home at noon, any day of the week will find
the welcome mat out and a hearty and sincere, "Won't you join us for
dinner?"

     The spread consists of at least one or two selections of meats,
two or three fresh vegetables, three different types of breads
(biscuits, cornbread and homemade light bread) and just about any kind
of beverage your palate desires. The same goes for desserts. Come
"suppertime," six hours later, the fare is repeated.

     The Burnseds' deep freeze bulges with their own Angus beef,
peafowl and Guinea fowls. vegetables from the garden are many.

     Across the unpaved road from their spacious, modern home are the
remains of the farm home they moved into in 1933, the year that
brought them to Baker County.

     "At that time Macclenny was just a crossroad town, but some of
the best people in the world lived there," said the Judge. "You just
don't find many people or places like that anymore. I think maybe it's
because people are on the move more. I believe home ownership helps a
person. Take my father, for instance, and others like him. They were
farmers. They could go into the one main general store that was in
town, and buy whatever they needed on credit for as long as they
needed it, usually until their crops were sold. You just couldn't get
the confidence of the people like that nowadays. Back then a man's
word was -his bond."

     Born in 1893 in Charlton County, Georgia, Judge Burnsed, son of
Solomon and Abigail (Parmenter) Burnsed, was teaching school by age
19.

     Farming communities had very little money to pay school teachers.
To help compensate for this, teachers were invited to stay with their
students' families.

     One such family was James J. and Ollie Mattox. The young school
teacher never dreamed then that their 9-year-old daughter, Myrtle,
would eventually become his wife.

     "It was 1917," remembered Judge Burnsed. "I enlisted in the Army
and went to France during World War I, and corresponded with the
Mattox family to keep in touch. When I returned I resumed teaching and
was promoted to a two-room school house.

     "When I finished my day's work, I'd study law."

     Meanwhile, he attended a Primitive Baptist Church meeting and
noticed that the lovely young girl, Myrtle Mattox had grown up in his
absence.

     "I wanted to have some resources before I married," he said.
"Back then you could become a lawyer without a degree. I passed my
test and was admitted to the Georgia bar in 1924."

     He and Myrtle were married the same year on September 24th.

     "Later," said Judge Burnsed, "I worked my way through two years
of college required for a degree." He worked for the Post Office in
Jacksonville and the young couple lived for awhile in Atlanta while he
studied law.

     Immediately upon arriving in Macclenny in 1933 he established his
law office and for awhile was in practice with Mr. Cone.

     He was respected and trusted and soon encouraged to seek the
office of county commissioner. The year was 1934 and he won. Later
came the state legislature, including two years as speaker pro-tern.
After losing a bid for a Senate seat; he retired from the political
scene until 1956, when he ran for county judge.

     "I liked not to have been elected", he said. "I thought I'd lost
so I came home from the polls and went to bed, but I ended up winning.
Someone came and woke us up to say we had won.

     "I was the first lawyer ever elected County Judge in Baker
County." Judge Burnsed served as County Judge from 1957 to 1977. He
retired at age 84.

     "I was born on a farm," said the judge. "We lived in a log cabin
and in 1896 a big storm hit. It blew the old log house down to the
fourth log. None of our family got hurt, however. The good Lord had
taken care of us," he said, relating how their neighbors all pitched
in to help his family rebuild their home.

     Judge Burnsed's first job away from home was at age 17 helping to
survey for the railroad. He also worked as a cook on a barge, but
being away from home didn't make him very happy.

     He became very homesick and soon returned to teach school in
Charlton County Georgia and later in Baker County Florida where he was
most beloved and trusted by the citizens.

     Myrtle Mae Mattox Burnsed grew up about four miles southwest of
Folkston, Ga. She began teaching school when she was 16 years old. The
term at that time was three months. She lived with a family on the
edge of the forbidding Okefenoke Swamp and taught school. After
teaching in St George and Moniac George, she moved to Baker County and
began teaching first grade in Glen St. Mary. She retired when she was
70 years old.

     The Burnsed's daughter, Joyce, and her husband, Wayne Guy, help
with the garden, as well as son Bobby and his family who live near by.

     The fertile soil of the Burnsed land produces in abundance,
"because they love it and the plants respond," said a good friend
Wilma Morris who was present at the interview. The many fruit trees
that grace the property inspired a private bee firm to install
beehives producing "some of the best honey in the world," say the
Burnseds.

     As I stood to leave, Myrtle Burnsed, whose recipe file is one to
be envied, handed me a generous amount of freshly baked chewy cake.

     And with a firm handshake, Judge B.R. Burnsed quipped with a
twinkle in his eye, "Don't go back and tell those old revenue people
nothing."

UPDATE: In 1993 daughter Joyce added this to the Burnsed interview.
"It's the simple things that make living worthwhile such as love, duty
, work and rest and my Papa, BR Burnsed, believed this. He always made
an earnest effort to be fair and perform the duties of office well. He
was a friend to the people of Baker County. He loved growing things,
working in the garden, trying to grow unusual plants.

     Our mother touched many lives through her classroom career. She
was a loving mother and a good friend," said Joyce.

     One of the most vivid memories of life on the farm with her
parents that Joyce quickly recalls is how her mother use to tell her
to go gather the eggs in their chicken yard.

     "She would always say, 'Joyce, go gather the eggs, but look out
for the snakes.' I was scared to death to go into that dark chicken
house and reach my hand over in the dark chicken nest. Sometimes I
just couldn't do it and I'd lie to her. She'd say, 'didn't the hen lay
any eggs today Joyce' and I'd say 'no mam' and Mama would say, 'Are
you sure', and I'd say, 'yes mam'. Now maybe the next day I could do
it, "she continued," but there were just some days I couldn't because
I was sooooooo scared of putting my hand over in the chicken nest and
touching a snake.' She still shudders at the thought.

     Joyce said she has always loved being from the country despite
the snakes. "In fact, I have always loved the country and being called
a country girl was fine with me."

     "Just think," she mused, " my parents went from the horse and
buggy days on into the space age during their lifetime," she said.
'Now that is just wonderful.'

GENEALOGY: Judge B.R. Bob Burnsed was born May 27, 1893 and died Nov.
28, 1980. His parents were Solomon and Abigail (Parmenter)

His paternal grandparents were Ben and Elizabeth (Parton) Buensed.
They are buried in North Prong Cemetery.

MYRTLE MATTOX BURNSED's FAMILY

Myrtle was born Dec 14, 1903 and died Jan. 24, 1982. Her father was
J.J. Mattox and her mother was Ovie (Grooms) Mattox. Her maternal
grandparents were Jessie Shepard Grooms and Elvina (Riggs) Grooms. Her
maternal great grandparents were Peter and Mary (Warnell) Grooms.
Myrtle Mattox Burnsed's paternal grandparents were John McKinzie and
Elizabeth Stafford Mattox, and her paternal great grandparents were
Michael McKinzie and Mary (Stanley) Mattox.

Most of the above are buried at Bethel Methodist Church Cemetery west
of Folkston.

_____________________________________________________________________________


                    JIMMY and MARIE (ROWE) BURNSED
                       Glen St Mary August 1979

     Former School superintendent Jimmy Burnsed isn't sitting in the
shade of an old apple tree these days. Instead, the 79-year old Baker
County educator is busy growing 3,000 budded seedling apple trees on
his 250-acre farm one mile north of Glen St. Mary.

     "Apple growing in Florida has been limited to northern areas
where a few local selections of medium to poor quality were grown," he
said. "Recently, however, apple varieties from Israel have been grown
and fruited with much success in central Florida," he said, pointing
to a 2 1/2-inch 'Anna' apple on one of his 40 stock trees.

     The fruit usually ripens in late June to early July and fruit
sizes range from 2 to 2 1/2 inches in diameter for Anna and up to 2
3/4-inches for 'Ein Shemer.' Anna has a shape similar to Red
Delicious, but with approximately 30 to 40 percent red blush. Flavor
is good and is sweet to semi-acid. Ripe fruit of Ein Shemer is similar
in shape, yellow and the flavor is sweet.

     When Burnsed was within a few years of retirement he began an
ornamental nursery, gradually changing over to fruit trees such as the
pear, peach and fig. Four years ago he took advantage of an offer by
the University of Florida to give nurserymen who requested it a small
amount of bud wood to help introduce the apples into the state of
Florida. When this proved successful he ordered 500 seedlings.

     "My first year's crop grew wonderfully. Better than 90 percent
grew and made nice trees," he said proudly.

     "There is something surprising about the way they grow" he said.
"We bud in August and they get up to 2-1/2 feet by December. By the
fall of the next year the trees will be 5-7 feet when ready to sell.

     "My biggest thing now is my apple trees," he said, "of which I
hope to have 2,000 ready to sell by winter.

     The trees can be sold bare rooted from the middle of December to
the last of February.

     When Burnsed is not busy budding his seedlings from the 40 root
stock trees he has set aside for this purpose, he and wife Marie love
to sit and chat with passersby about the "good 'ole days."

     And you can be sure those dropping in will not go away empty
handed. The Burnseds give away the fruit the trees produce.

     "Mr. Jimmy" as he is fondly called by Baker Countians, launched
his educational career by passing a teacher's examination which
eventually brought him to Baker County. The year was 1922. Burnsed
continued taking educational courses during the summers and at nights.
On one occasion while trying to gather enough people for one such
course, he met his wife, the former Marie Rowe, a county native and
fellow school teacher.

     "Jimmy and I married in 1934, while he was a teacher and
principal of the three-room school house at Taylor," said Marie. "The
next year he ran for county school superintendent and won." "It was
during a period of growth and decisions for the county," said Jimmy.
"There were about 14 rural schools averaging one to three rooms, each
needing consolidation. A high school was desperately needed in the
north end of the county."

     At the time, high school students were transported into
Macclenny, on dirt roads, some the distance of 52 miles round trip,
taking as long as three hours one way.

     Progress from the horse and buggy school wagons had been made to
open-air trucks with topless cabs and rear bodies. Students sat on
wooden seats attached to the sides.

     "If it rained we all got wet" Marie said.

     "At the time Jimmy won the school superintendent election,
steel-framed school buses were required by law to replace the first
covered county school buses, made with wood frames in 1933," she said.

     Burnsed's first major decision once in office was to make a high
school in the north end of the county, ending the long rides into
Macclenny for the students.

     "I continued my education every chance I got" said Mr. Jimmy. "I
received my bachelor of arts degree from the University of Florida in
1946 and my master's in 1953."

     Mr Jimmy, who has held many educational positions in the Baker
County school system, retired in 1967. Together, he and Marie
represent 78 years of educational service.

     "I don't feel my age at all," said Mr. Jimmy as he strolled in
the hot noonday sun along the neatly plowed rows of apple trees. "I
just don't think about it 'cause I've got too much to do these days."

     Is it any wonder the tune he whistles goes, "I'll be with you in
apple blossom time"?

UPDATE: August 1992

Mr. Jimmy Burnsed is lovingly cared for by his wife Marie and family
members while in declining health. In another interview with 'Miss
Marie' and her daughter Jeanette (Mrs. Kyle Brown) in August 1992 the
two educators discussed with me an evolution review of education in
the county and it is included here.

     The Burnseds married in 1934 while he was a teacher and principal
of the three-room school house at Taylor. Students in those days were
taught to the tune of the hickory stick.

     "We didn't have discipline problems either," said Marie. "and
times were lean. There were lots of barefoot 'beaus' around and plenty
of 'queens' in calico."

     A year following their marriage he ran for county school
superintendent and won. He served for 16 years.

     "Back then there were three kinds of certificates you could get
if you went to what was called 'Normal' school and passed the test.
The highest certificate was Number 1 and qualified you to teach grades
one through tenth. Certificates number two and three qualified you to
teach grades one through eighth.

     "I remember Mr. Walter Dopson, the school superintendent at the
time, came out to our house when I was about five years old and gave
my mama the test and I knew then I wanted to teach like her," said
Marie. Her first salary was $60 monthly, but had increased to $1,000
when she retired in 1972.

     On occasion, during the great Depression, the county had no money
to pay their teachers and the couple and others were paid in 'scrip'
by the government.

     "We cashed the scrip in like some people do today who have food
stamps," said Marie.

     "Times have really changed since Jimmy and I served in the county
school system," said Marie, "particularly with discipline. I think it
is because many families are not established in a church, where in my
day most of the community were deep rooted Christians with established
values."

     Together, the couple represent 78 years of educational service in
the Baker County schools. Daughter Irma Jean (Mrs. Travis Green) is a
teacher in Crystal River and daughter Jeanette teaches kindergarten at
Westside Elementary. (Son Dewey is an attorney and David is a medical
surgeon in Leesburg.)

     "My parents struggled to get resources where I have all I need to
teach the children. As a kindergarten teacher I have access to
teachers with all kinds of expertise in many areas, such as languages,
special reading and writing programs, computers, counselors and
specialist for almost everything. The list is endless."

     Jeanette says she believes the changes in our whole society have
affected education.

     "As an example, " she said, "when I went to school the children
ages 1-12 rode the same bus. We all got along and didn't think
anything about it. The bus driver knew each of us personally and joked
with us and became our friend. There were never discipline problems.
Today that would never work."

NOTE: cwm.
James Dewey "Jimmy" Burnsed 1900-1994
Marie (Rowe) Burnsed 1913-1997 both buried Woodlawn Cemetery.

_____________________________________________________________________________


                      McKinley and Daniel Crews
                        Baxter Fl. April 1982

     More than 70 years ago, when Daniel and McKinley Crews were born
on a farm in Baxter, Fl. there were no automobiles, airplanes,
telephones, blaring radios or television sets, no electricity, running
water, indoor plumbing or microwave.

     Time seems to have stood still all these years for the bachelor
brothers. They have spent their entire lives rising daily from the
same beds, in the same clap-board house, under the same tin roof, on
the same farm, "just like our ma and pa used to do."

     The two men rise with the sun to do separate chores. Then they
pass the time of day comfortably on the front porch of their
antiquated home where they have managed to avoid the modern world for
70 years.

     While McKinley, the younger of the two, prepares a hearty
breakfast of grits, boiled potatoes and piping hot biscuits on an
enamel wood burning stove each morning Daniel feeds the 70 or more
cows that roam and graze inside the split-rail fences surrounding the
farm.

     It takes Dan'l a long time to feed all these cattle 'cause he
feeds them one ata time out'en a bucket" McKinley grumbles as he
rambles around in the house's antiquated kitchen. Dense light filters
through cracks in a weathered wood window shutter and casts a glow on
pots and pans of various sizes that dangle from nails on the rough
pine walls.

     "This ole stove's about wore out as I am," McKinley said as he
removed a pan containing eight king-sized golden brown biscuits from
the oven.

     "Come over here and you can see how he makes biscuits," Dan'l
said, holding up a wooden spoon from a bowl containing a lumpy flour
mixture.

     "The health woman told me not to use hog grease, so we just put
in some of that there Crisco and them yonder powers", McKinley said,
pointing to a box of powdered milk on the table. "Just put all you
want in a dish and stir it up, that's the way you do it."

     Now you can't put too much water, 'cause if you do you'll never
make biscuits," Daniel cautioned. "They'll be too soft."

     The brothers have favorite dishes they eat from.

     "That's the youngun' still in us, I guess," McKinley said. "Our
ma got these dishes with coupons out of soap powers."

     The brothers fill their bowls with a good size helping of grits,
adding boiled Irish potatoes with lots of liquid. Biscuits are then
crumbled and added to the mixture.

     "Ain't got no name. I just call it somethin' to eat" McKinley
quipped when asked what he called the concoction.

     "We said the other day that if flour, bread and Irish potatoes
gave out we'd be in for it.' Daniel said. "But once in a while we eat
a mess of black-eyed peas."

     The wood-hinged door banged loudly as a cold north wind blew a
gust up through a 4-inch gap in the kitchen floorboards, where small
chubby kittens were scurrying in and out.

     "That there hole's fine in the summer, but it ain't so good in
the winter," McKinley said. "We try and keep feed sacks stuffed in it
but the kittens pull them slap out through to the ground."

     The two men divide chores.

     "I wash the dishes, and he lays them out here on the table and
dries them," McKinley said as he poured a kettle of steaming hot
water, heated on the wood stove, into a large metal dish pan sitting
on the table.

     "Bet you ain't never seen people wash dishes like I do," he said.
"I use a spoon and a rag like my ma did."

     "That's his water, and I got my water," Dan'l said.

     "I keep a box over my pail to keep the cats out" he said, lifting
the cover slightly to peer in. "I don't want him using my water. Let
him go round yonder to the water pump."

     "I used it once and he blowed off about it" McKinley said. "So
now I wash with my water and he rinses with his."

     "When Ma was living we scrubbed the floor twice a year on the
Fourth of July, you know, and then before Christmas," Daniel noted.

     "And now we scrub when we can or will, mostly when we will,"
McKinley added.

     "I scrub my floor and he scrubs his," Daniel said. "I scrub
awhile and then he does what you call rinsing."

     The Crews brothers say the holidays are just another day to them.

     "We don't fret over 'em," said Dan'l. "I think for Christmas I
had a piece of sausage from Winey Dixie."

     "You had a piece of ham too," reminded McKinley.

     "Sure did," said Dan'l.

     "I can't eat hog meat' said McKinley," but I had a piece of
boiled chicken myself and some woman brought Dan'l some socks. He
sleeps in socks near every night to keep his feet warm."

     "She brought me a piece of cake too," Dan'l reminded his brother.

     One woman told Dan'l she'd keep him warm but I told Dan'l yes...
and that ain't all that woman would do." "A woman would worry me to
death," snorted Dan'l. "If anybody was young a woman might be a
satisfaction to 'em but we done got too old."

     "We ain't never been out with a woman," said McKInley. "I was
scared of them things. We went a frolicking when we were young, but
thats as far as it went."

     According to the brothers the small board and batten house built
by their white bearded father is cold in the winter and hot in the
summer.

     "We sleep with all the kiver (cover) we can turn over with," said
Dan'l, "and I still get cold. I got pnewmonie once but it was cause I
fell over a bucket I had to go to the hospital 'cause they said it was
catch'in, but I never knowed anybody to catch it. They must have just
thought it was. If it was catch'in they must of nobody catched it bad
cause I never heard of 'em catch'in it."

     A small brick and clay fireplace in their front room supplies
warmth for the brothers, while an old smoky kerosene lamp provides
light. Actually the house has three rooms the brothers use for their
living area. In the front room where the fireplace is, Dan'l sleeps.
Mattresses are piled high, and so are the covers. The kitchen is
attached to that room and off from the kitchen is a room small enough
for one single bed. There is no insulation. In fact, light filters in
through each board on the wall.

     "Use to be our feed room," McKinley explains. "Now it's mine." It
too is piled high with quilts just as Dan'l's bed is.

     Two wood-slatted rocking chairs sit in front of the fireplace.
Clothes hang from nails on the rough wood walls.

     A few pictures, mostly of their parents, are on the mantel. What
they call a' night slop jar used for toilet convenience instead of the
one seat outdoor privey sits in one corner of the house. The smell is
dank and musty. Stepping outside onto the porch you get a panoramic
view of the farm. At one end of the porch is a hand water pump. Stacks
of fire wood is at the other end. A small feed room is connected to
the porch next to the water pump. The scene is about as antiquated as
you can get, and to say that you are stepping back in time is an
understatement. This is real, not a re-enactment. It is fascinating.
It is certainly unique. This is how it was suppose to be a century ago
yet you are really standing in the midst of authentic pioneer history.

     Except for an occasional trip to town for groceries in a rickety
old truck, and except for a few infrequent visitors, the men say they
have little contact with the modern world.

     "Someone gave me a little old thing in there that talks, but I
don't know where it gets its news," Dan'l said. "My brother said he
don't like no kind of music though."

     "I got some education, but I don't take it to heart. I don't use
it," said Dan'l.

     As for politics, the brothers say they are 'stuck on Democrats."

     "I threw my pocketbook over the fence in Hoover's time," McKinley
said. "Had to. Didn't have any money to go in it."

     And what about the Super Bowl?

     "We don't know what's that. We don't know it all, we know a
little," smiled Dan'l.

     On April 28, 1988 I returned to the Crews farm and took along a
friend, Naomi Crews Roberson, for an update interview with McKinley
Crews. His brother Daniel had died and he now lived alone. As I video
taped our Visit Naomi talked with him about his life on the farm. As
he took us inside his humble abode light filtered through cracks in
the wall and a stream of sunlight stood in streaks on the rough wood
floor reflecting from the wood shutter window that opens to the
outside. McKinley pushed the window outside to let in more light.

     The little house has two rooms, the living room with a fireplace,
and a kitchen with the lean-to just off the kitchen.

     Daniel's bed, with its array of dingy cotton mattresses, remained
in the comer of the living room with a pile of frayed and worn
handmade quilts on top. McKinley told us he still slept on the single
bed in the small lean-to off the kitchen. Walking through the screen
door into the kitchen McKinley takes us to the right and into the
little room just big enough to hold his single bed. Its a cool place
in the winter and that ain't so good fer me," he told us. "And in the
summer the sun shines through these here holes and it gets hot, but it
don't worry me none," he said.

     "Do you sleep well at night" we asked.

     "I don't have no trouble sleeping but once in a while I let some
woman get on my mind and I can't sleep," he chuckles.

     "Do you like women," Naomi wanted to know.

     "Naw, they're too mean," he quipped. "One woman come out here and
told me she drumpt (dreamed) that the Lord wanted her to come out here
and tell me to pray to Him and He'd forgive me of my sins."

     "Well did you?" asked Naomi.

     "Naw," he chuckled. "I read in the Bible some. I read where they
chopped ole John the Baptist's head off ... wonder what they did with
his ole head?" he asked sincerely.

     "Well, they gave it to the women on the platter," explained
Naomi.

     "Yea, I know, but wonder what did those women do with it?"

     "I'll try and find out for you," replied Naomi.

     There is no doubt McKinley Crews is an intelligent man who likes
to play dense. He received a fifth grade education from a school,
'over yonder but said "I got to fractions and that wound it up." One
of his teachers was Bessie Crews and once, he said, "she beat my
britches off me."

     President Franklin Roosevelt was his favorite president because,
"he stopped the banks from going busted."

     The world he says is getting 'worser and worser' because people
are getting 'meaner and meaner'. And about those TV evangelists who
have been involved in sex scandals, he has a name for them. "They are
dirty skunks."

     As McKinley talks he opens up his kitchen safe, screened to keep
flys and other varmints out that creep in through the many holes in
the house. He shows us a plate of biscuits. Tonight he'll eat them
soaked in a bowl of powdered milk. Pots and pans hang from the rafters
and nails on the wall. Kittens of all sizes scurry in and out on top
of and under everything A few groceries are kept out of their reach
way up on the kitchen rafters.

     When we're ready to tour outside McKinley takes us back out the
way we came in.

     "My Ma said ifen you go out another way you'll have bad luck, so
we got to go out the way we come in." As we step down off the porch
McKinley stops.

     "Here's where that ole girl kissed me, right here on this spot,"
he said pointing to the area. Naomi hugs his neck and pecks him on the
cheek.

     "Now you've been kissed by two girls on this spot," she said.

     McKinley smiled from ear to ear.

     As we walked along Naomi wanted to know if he went to church.

     "That holy witness comes around once in a while," he said.

     The 160 acres surrounding the farm is framed with a split rail
fence and outdoor buildings dot the landscape. There is a syrup house,
long ago deserted, the out house (outdoor privy), a barn, smoke house,
car and tractor garage and a cow pen and shelter that his brothers and
daddy helped him build. The doors are opened and closed on creaky
wooden hinges, one his mother made. A horse shoe hangs upward on the
car garage.

     "Pa said it was good fer making wishes, but some man came alone
and said when it's turned up it would hold your luck but if you turn
it down the other way your luck will fall out."

     In the car shed is the 1951 Chevrolet truck he has driven for
more than 37 years. Next to it is a tilting trailer McKinley built
from the frame of his Model A Ford. He pridefully points to the wooden
doors held together by wooden pegs.

     "You're pretty smart," said Naomi.

     "No if'en I'd been smart I'd marry one of these pretty little
things," he teased pointing to me and Naomi.

     "Yea, but just think, you'd have to feed her," said Naomi.

     "If I did get a girl she'd want electricity and I don't think I
could get it way out here," he said seriously.

     "And I think she'd want plumbing and running water, and a new
car, a telephone and of course a micro-wave," said Naomi.

     McKinley grinned and quipped, "Recon so"

     Small calves lay cuddled near the fence trying to dodge the cool
wind. Over the fence was a strand of corn, a patch of string beans, a
row of Irish potatoes.

     "You do pretty good for yourself," said Naomi.

     "Yea sometimes I think I need a good ole woman."

     McKinley said he has been on the farm all of his life except for
four and a half months when he went to work for the CCC Camp in
Pennsylvania. His mother died in 1951. "They didn't know how old she
was, the court house burned." His father died in 1931.

     His brothers Dan, William and Ben are all gone. The farm has been
an oddity as most people have stepped out into modern society. The
farm, and brothers have been featured in magazines such as the
National Geographic and spotlighted on TV such as PM Magazine.
Newspaper reporters and photographers come around often writing in awe
of the backward scene. And it's always the same today as it was
yesterday and the day before that and the day before that.

     Some could say McKinley is stuck in his ways after so long a time
doing the same routine day after day. But one thing is for certain, he
still has women on his mind. As we started to leave he said this to
us.

     "If I had my life to go back to, I'd marry that girl I knew way
back then when we was 15." On second thought he said, "But neither of
us had anything."

     "What was her name, McKinley," we wanted to know.

     "Well, I can't say her name, her old man ain't dead yet." Then on
second thought he mused. "But you know, just before I got 65 years old
I went to that Social Security place to sign up and she came in there
behind me. She didn't even look like she used to, all that still
favored her were her eyes. She use to look good but now she's an old
dried up thing with old yellowed white hair."

     "You recon you look to her like you used to look," quizzed Naomi?

     "Don't know," he said passively. "But all a woman would want to
do anyway is be the boss."

_____________________________________________________________________________


                         CLYDE AND MAMIE SANDS
                      GEORGIA BEND, MONIAC AREA

     Turning off Georgia Road 185 onto the peaceful rural lane that
leads to the Clyde Sands compound is an exhilarating experience, that
is, if you like country. On either side of the by-way, as far as the
eye can see, is a complex of rich and fertile farm-land. Closer in to
his more than half century rustic abode are an abundance of fruit
trees such as the peach and pear, orange, lemon, kumquat and fig. And
to the east and west north and south are an abundance of muscadine
grape arbors. Big fat hens, and little fluffy guineas run loose adding
to the ever present charm of a by-gone era.

     Clyde Sands was born on this spot of revered land July 29, 1916.
In a way it is sacred to him.

     This land was my grandpa and grandma's land and my Pa and Mama's
land too. The old wooden house where I was born wasn't much, but it
was home. We could lie down at night and see the moon and count the
stars through the cracks. We slept pretty good on our moss or straw
mattresses, and we also had downy feather beds." he said.

     He was twelve years old when the present house was built in 1928.
Since then it has been added to, and added to, until now there is a
nice cozy room for any occasion. But for Clyde, the kitchen was
always, and still is, his favorite gathering place.

     "There are two things I enjoy, working and eating but I don't eat
like I use to, stuff don't taste like it use to. I don't know why."

     Today he lives with his wife of 19 years, Mamie (Thrift) Lee
Sands. Before they married their lives took different paths. But they
have always known each other. "I was born right down the road, me and
Clyde went to school together, and I washed for his family for more
than 30 years," said the jovial lady who makes their house a home. It
is obvious she is happy with the way things turned out for both.

     Clyde was the first born child of George Washington Sands and his
wife Nellie (Thrift). They were a hardworking farm couple who
struggled to grub a life from the poor pastures of their 496 acres
that borders the Florida-Georgia line on the Georgia side of the
Charlton County dividing line .... the 'big' St. Mary's River. At an
early age he worked on his parent's farm and learned how to be
responsible.

     The farm gave the family food for survival, but Clyde and his
daddy did other things as well.

     "At one time I worked 10 hours a day for the county for one
dollar." he said. Pa was foreman with the WPA and I think he got two
or three dollars a day."

     "One way my daddy got a little money ahead was to grow cotton.
But when the bank in Macclenny went busted he lost $1,200.

     "I just can remember I was going to get rich working in that
cotton. I got up one morning, coming daylight, and I picked all day,
and picked 70 pounds. All I made was seventy cents, one cent a pound.
Can you just imagine! And them ole burrs was sticking all in my
fingers and that was the last cotton I vied to pick. Just think, I
worked all day and half the night nearly for seventy cents."

     "The bo-weevil came along and destroyed the fields of cotton. We
started growing more vegetables, corn, peas and some pumpkins. The
ground was poor. It was the Depression. I did make whiskey for my
daddy some but I never owned a barrel of buck in my life. He just made
it in the winter time mostly when we needed some extra money. They
(the reveners) caught me in 1936 and I never did mess with it any
more. I was put on probation. I remember that old man Ludous Knabb was
my probation officer.

     "In 1937 Pa bought an old bar in downtown Macclenny from Verge
Walker and George Bennett There weren't no air conditioning in it.
There was a little restaurant. It had an old radio that you could get
Nashville Tennessee on and people would set around and listen to it.
There weren't no juke organs and things like that way back then. I
eventually went into partnership with Pa and we ran the bar together.

     "I remember back then we could buy two cans of salmon for a
quarter, round steak two pounds for a quarter. why the biggest steer
would sell for $7.50. It might weigh eight or nine hundred pounds, but
you couldn't get more than $7.50 for it .

     "I think I went to about the third grade in school, but I dropped
out to work on the farm. I was always a puny kid and I remember
staying home and working while all the other of my brothers and
sisters attended school. They all eventually graduated," he said
proudly.

     Other brothers and sisters were brothers Holland and Maxie,
sister Inez, brothers George Washington (Dub), Ralph, Cecil, and
sister Annie. Three babies, one girl and two boys, died as infants.

     The children grew up amid a complex of relatives. Their maternal
grandmother, Salley Sands, lived down the road.

     "We had fodder pullings, peanut boilings and frolics at her
house. Grandma had a big table in a side room where the wood cooking
stove was. She had big pots plum full of peas and sausage and stuff
like that on the table, and people would come to square dance and eat.
I remember people like Myrtie (Taylor) Walker-Rowe, John Laramore and
Pauline Mikel being there. I never did like to dance. I tried it with
Pauline Mikel once and the more I went around the drunker I got so I
just never did do it. I liked going though. Grandma had an old stick
and clay fireplace that she cooked and baked in. It was so big we
could walk inside of it."

     "I remember when Pa bought an ole graphic phonograph that you
could wound up. It's down yonder now, in the barn, the rats have eat
it up. But people would come from miles around to listen to it."

     But mostly there was farm work to do.

     "I remember being so puny I just let that ole mule drag that plow
around and me too," he said. "Could have been because when I was
little Mama had me with her in the sweet potato field and somehow I
got poisoned. That might have been it, they say I was real sick."

     He took on other jobs despite his frailty. He drove a school bus
and was janitor at the four room school house in Moniac.

     "I remember scrubbing the class room floors with ole burnt oil
and kerosene to keep the dust down," he said.

     The principal, Thyra Topist MCDuffie from Folkston, was a petite
brown haired, brown eyed, 5 foot 8 inch beauty who was six years
Clyde's senior. But despite Clyde's shyness and fragile health,
despite his uneducated rank, she fell madly in love with the tall
handsome farm boy. Thyra saw something special much deeper and
stronger in the young man other than material wealth and literacy.

     Clyde is a striking figure. Standing five feet eight inches tall,
he has firm broad shoulders, intense brown eyes and an always ready
smile that easily erupts into jovial laughter.

     "I never was too interested in marriage. Never thought too much
about it." he said. "I was kinda shy too. I did go with a girl named
Sally Thomas about seven years. She felt like she just had to get
married and that done it with me."

     About this time, in 1940, Clyde developed a terrible stomach
ache.

     "My daddy believed in them old chiropractors, and they had one in
St. George, so he carried me up there. He couldn't do me no good, so
they took me to Dr. Anderson in Macclenny who told my daddy, 'George
if you don't do something this ole boy is going to die'."

     Clyde was rushed to St. Vincents Hospital on Barrs Street in
Jacksonville.

     "The last thing I remember," he reflected, "was being put on the
operating table. My appendix had busted open and gangrene had set in.
They had to take the whole bottom of my stomach out. For nine days and
nights I didn't know a thing. At first they put me in the woman's ward
'cause there weren't no room in the men's ward. There weren't much to
the hospital then like it is now. But finally I got in a ward with the
men and was hospitalized 19 days all together."

     Thyra, the school teacher principal, came to see him daily riding
all the way from Moniac to Jacksonville by train.

     So on February 1, 1941, the couple was married by Judge Frank
Dowling in Macclenny.

     "I remember it was on a Saturday. We drove to Jacksonville in my
Pa's old 1944 Ford car and tried to get us a hotel room on Bay Street,
but they were all full, so we drove out Main Street and stayed in a
motel. I don't remember the name of it. Next morning we visited
Thyra's mother and then came back to my Pa's house and moved in."

     Thyra drove the school bus in addition to being principal with a
staff of three teachers. The couple's marriage brought two sons into
their life: Clyde Dell (pronounced by the family as Cly-Dell) and
Ferman (Kay).

     On February 14, 1951 Clyde's daddy, George W. Sands, Sr. and his
wife Nellie, moved from Charlton County onto 210 acres of rural land
they had purchased in 1937 in north Baker County. The land was
originally known in the area as the Nath Pellum Place. This beautiful
expanse of towering oaks and scrub trees stretched out over low
rolling terrain and was bordered by the tea-colored waters and white
sandy shoreline of the Little Saint Mary's River. George W.
commissioned a relative, Uncle Dan Thrift, son of Leroy J. and Zelphia
a Thrift, to build a nice, cozy farm home for his beloved wife Nellie
as a Valentine's Day gift.

     The old Charlton County homestead was not left abandoned.

     Clyde wanted to keep it in the family, and after all it was the
only home he had ever known.

     "I told my wife Thyra that I'd always wanted this ole place, so
we paid Pa $16,000 for the 496 acres. Pa and my grandpa had worked
hard growing cotton to pay the $600 it cost in the beginning. They had
borrowed the money from George Chisolm. I own lots 440, 430 and 429
and another piece of dirt a way back there too," he said pointing
southward.

     "In Georgia land is divided into lots," Clyde explained. "and in
Florida it is divided into sections. I own some land I inherited from
Pa over in Florida. It's in mine and my wife's name, that's the law in
Florida, but in Georgia just my name is on the land. That's just the
difference in the law," he said.

     George and Nellie's 210 acre estate was eventually equally
divided among their children as an inheritance. Clyde said his share
came to 19 acres because his daddy gave land for the whole right away
for Bob Kirkland Road that borders his property.

     "Pa's land was valued at $150. an acre in the swamp and $300. an
acre on the high ground. Now it's worth thousands of dollars an acre."

     "This land that borders mine here in Georgia once belonged to
Dick Powers and sold for twenty-five cents an acre," he said shaking
his head in disbelief. Now a lumber company owns it.

     His taxes in 1957 were $75.68. This year he paid over $3,000.
Some years it's been even more.

     Thyra, who was born September 9, 1910 died with cancer on August
25, 1967 after 26 years of marriage.

     "I cooked for myself and took care of my boys for the next five
years," he said.

     And then something happened. He got a phone call one night from
his wash lady.

     "Can you come over to my house," she wanted to know.

     "Well I've got company but when they leave I'll come over," he
told her.

     "He didn't come until about nine o'clock, I didn't think he was
going to come," said Mamie. "But he did and I had finally got the
courage to tell him something."

     Mamie and Clyde had known each other since children. They went to
school together and like Clyde, she too dropped out of school early.

     "My mother was Millie (Thrift) who married Henry Outlaw and I
have a half brother Maine, but I was raised by my grandparents Robert
'Bob' and Mary (Raulerson) Thrift. Grandpa let me eat and get so fat I
just quit school. I wasn't like the other kids and I was embarrassed.
I was 12 years old and weighed 175 pounds.

     So I just quit and worked on the farm. I was in fourth grade.
Mamie eventually married Frank J. Lee on December 23, 1936.

     "He and his daddy would come to our house selling furs. I was
nine when I first saw him, and later his daddy told me that when they
left our house that first time Frank said 'daddy, that's going to be
my wife.'," she said. At the time Mamie was very chubby and Frank was
'just a little man'.

     When Mamie was 11 years old she received a letter from Frank. He
had written it backwards and told her to hold it up to the mirror to
read. She did, but her grandmother burned the letter. When Mamie was
16 she married Frank who was 26. They wed on Dec. 23, 1934. At the
time he made $3.50 a week as a saw mill laborer. They moved 13 times
over the next few years before her Grandpa Thrift came for them in a
big school bus and moved them to his farm to help him work. He paid
Frank $15. a month for labor.

     The couple had three children: Charlton, Clifford and Minnie.

     "An old colored lady asked me one time if I didn't think I'd had
enough babies. I told her I had, and she told me she knew what to do
not to have any more. She told me to get some cotton root pills and
take them according to directions. I did and I never had another
baby." she said.

     Mamie took in washing for the Sands family. Sometimes Clyde would
bring the clothes to her house, sometimes Thyra. Sometimes she would
come to their house to wash clothes in the big old outdoor boiler.
Sometimes Thyra would visit with her way into the night until time for
Clyde to get off work at the bar in Macclenny. They became good
friends.

     After Thyra became ill and died, Frank became ill with emphysema.
Mamie's weight had escalated to 205 pounds but in the end it dropped
to 137. She stayed with Frank constantly during his illness and the
stress took a toll on her body.

     "He didn't want me out of his sight," she noted.

     Before Frank died in 1973 from emphysema he told her. "Mamie, I'd
die happy if I knew you would marry Clyde Sands. He'll be able to take
good care of you."

     "Clyde Sands!" I exploded. "No! not old Clyde Sands!"

     "But I had changed my tune when I phoned him that night." she
said. "When he came in and sat down I told him what Frank had told me,
and he just said, 'Well, I think we can work it Out" and then he said,
'Well I'll be seeing you,' and left."

     "I thought 'Well you old son of a gun' because he never said he'd
be back or anything."

     The next morning found Mamie in the hospital preparing for
emergency gallbladder surgery. Her friend and neighbor, Lola Dobson,
told her daughter Minnie maybe she should call Clyde Sands.

     "Call Clyde Sands,!" yelped Minnie. "Why?"

     "Well" said Mamie, "she soon found out why. Minnie called him and
Clyde came right on in to see me. We dated for nine months before
marrying on Feb. 23, 1974 in Folkston, Georgia. "The Lord blessed me
with two good men," she said seriously.

     "And the Lord blessed me with two good wives," he concluded.

     Later, a lady who had helped attend Thyra when she was ill came
to tell them something Thyra had told her.

     "I can't be with Clyde much longer. I hope that Clyde gets
somebody good like Mamie Lee."

     "Between Frank and Thyra,both wanting us to get together we feel
good about it. They were both good people. And we've been real happy
together," remarked Mamie.

     Over the past nineteen years the two have toiled the land
together.

     Clyde is not one to take success for granted; there have been
years of struggle and disappointment but his convictions are ingrained
and certain.

     "There's more in saving than in making," said Cyde. I don't mind
spending money but I don't believe in throwing it away. Neither did
Thyra and neither does Mamie. My daddy always said if you make a
hundred dollars a day and didn't save any of it you hadn't done a
thing and I believe him," said Clyde.

     Clyde is profoundly devoted to his heritage. His ancestors lives
have affected him deeply. His life has seen years of struggle and
disappointment yet he learned and developed the discipline that would
keep him working through the lean years. Distributed throughout his
home are an abundance of family photos and framed news articles
featuring outstanding family members including himself. (He grew one
11# turnip that made big news!)

     Beginning a new married life Clyde disrupted his longtime
business career in the downtown Macclenny bar that centered amid the
routine hysteria of the outside world. Three weeks after he married a
trim 137 pound Mamie, Clyde sold the bar to brothers Dub and Holland.

     "They moved the old building out and built a modern, air
conditioned one, but they didn't stay in the business long" he said.

     Not too much has changed where Clyde and Mamie live.

     They have a year round abundance of food stored in the six large
deep freezers they labor to fill annually. One holds crop seeds, but
the other five are filled to the brim with vegetables harvested from
their sun-kissed fields and the tender good meat gleaned on their
farm.

     "I cooked some butterbeans Thyra put up in 1966 the other day,"
she said. "They had been packed in water and were still good."

     But some things have changed they say.

     They still grind cane and make rich red syrup, but the mule is
out to pasture and Clyde rides the tractor around and around in the
same sweep.

     "My boy feeds the mill and Mamie makes the syrup. I use to but
I've turned it all over to her now," he said.

     The same old smoke house and corn crib still stands transporting
by-gone memories to the mind. They have their beef and hogs killed,'
down at the slaughter house,' but bring them home and make pounds and
pounds of country sausage, hogs head cheese, hams, pork shoulders,
beef roasts and on and on.

     They grow a little of everything on their farm and people come
from miles around to buy fruit and vegetables by the bushel, eggs by
the dozen, peanuts, pumpkins, corn, peas, and okra.

     They are known far and wide for their great crops and knowledge
of farming.

     "Well I go by the signs, I was raised up by 'em,' said Clyde.
Always have. A lot of peoples' always asking me about the signs.

     "Anything that grows in the ground you want to plant it when the
signs are in the feet and then anything when the signs are in the
twins, like peas, will bear more to the pod.

     "You plant by the moon. I've seen corn grow as high as the
ceiling and yet wouldn't make a ear of corn. It just grows different
if you plant corn when the signs are going down to the feet, right
after the full moon.

     *And if you plant peas in the full moon the bugs will eat 'em
up."

     "Is all that in the Farmers Almanac?" I asked.

     "No, that ain't in the almanac it's in my head. Don't ever plant
peas and things like that when the signs ain't right. Plant them in
the twins. Plant peanuts when signs are in the feet and they just make
better.

     "You want to kill your beef and pork a few days before or after
the full moon, some where around the full moon, and it'll be so tender
you can cut it with a fork.

     "Now take them old piney woods cows, or hogs, we use to could dry
it out and smoke it right out there in that old smoke house that's
been there all my life, at least as long as I can remember, and we
cured a many piece of good meat but we just don't do it no more. The
weather's too uncertain for one thing, it's cold today and hot the
next day. The meat all sours and we lose it.

     "I think men going to the moon messed the whole thing up. We
never had so many bad storms like they do today, like the one we had
the other day. I'll be in the field plowing and these ole jets leave
Cecil Field and come around by the swamp here and they actually almost
scare me off the tractor, they're here and gone before you can hardly
see 'em, just making a lot of racket."

     "There's not a lot of money in farming, you mostly break even
financially," he said.

     "My Pa could buy a ton of fertilizer for $17. Now it cost me
$154. a ton. Pa put it on this whole place and we'd just make enough
corn to feed the horses and then we'd buy our grits most of the time.
That's how poor this ole dirt was, you know, and now you put all that
fertilizer to it and grow as much on one acre as you use to the whole
thing. My daddy wouldn't believe that. We didn't even try to sell
anything in my daddy's day, not even a hog or a cow. We grew food for
survival.

     My corn and velvet beans are fed back to the cows, I just turn
them into the field to eat because there's so many weeds in the field
you can't get a piece of equipment in there to gather the corn. I buy
corn for my chickens."

     "You take chickens. You can raise 'em out there in the yard and
you can't eat them things. Use to they were the best things in the
world, just put 'em in a pen a day or two before you kill 'em and
clean 'em out good and they'd be so good. Now a days chickens raised
in the yard are stringy. We always keep the ones we eat penned up and
they are good. We don't let them run around." said Clyde.

     "Yea, Clyde killed one the other day that dressed out at 14
pounds," said Mamie.

     "How'd Clyde kill it?" I asked remembering how my grandparents
would ring the chicken's neck.

     "He shot it!"

     "Shot it?," I exclaimed in question.

     "Yea, used to we had no trouble ringing a chicken's neck, but
something's happened today, and you just can't hardly ring one's neck,
especially them old yard chickens," she said.

     "Now you take those ole broilers out of these chicken houses, If
you kill them they taste just like the feed, but when they're taken to
the plant and you get one there it'll taste all right, but no tellin'
what they pump into that chicken to create that taste. I think that's
what's wrong with people's health today." mused Clyde.

     Mamie makes her cakes from Guinea eggs because she says they are
richer. The same with pumpkin pies.

     "I like my yard eggs, I wouldn't eat them ole cage eggs 'cause
they ain't nothing but water .. why they're even plum white. You go
out there and get you one of our eggs and they're just as yellow and
firm as they can be. You see, they got a rooster, that makes a
difference, I recon'." said Clyde.

     "I remember how we use to go run down one of our chickens when
the peddlers would come around," said Mamie. "We'd exchange a chicken,
eggs, or whatever we had on the farm for what ever the peddlers were
selling. I remember we'd get Watkins Products, flavorings, salve and
patented medicines. And there were some called Blair flavorings. Mr.
Carl Rhoden's daddy use to peddle them." remembered Mamie.

     "We traded at the grocery store too," said Clyde.

     "Yea and I remember my grandma traded her eggs for snuff." said
Mamie.

     Some other commodities were: Rosebud salve, Vaseline and Watkins
Liniment for sore muscles.

     "Remember that old Had-A-Call?" asked Clyde. "And Black Draught,
and Caster Oil?"

     I sure did. My grandparents gave me all that stuff when I visited
them as a child. Ugh! Especially the Black Draught.

     "My daddy said that Had-a- Call would make you boogie up a hill
it was so full of alcohol." said Mamie.

     "And back in them days they'd put an old dried apple in whiskey
and make a tonic what they called, Bitter Apple," said Clyde.

     And that's not all that's changed they say.

     "Neighbors have changed. Use to we knew everyone around and they
knew us. Today we don't know many of our neighbors. We met 'em on the
highway and don't even know 'em. That ain't right There's 600 acres of
houses and house trailers that join me over there on the river and I
don't know one of 'em. They come here and buy vegetables but I don't
really know a one of them.

     "Use to if you'd get sick neighbors would come and help out and
if it was in crop season they'd come clean your crops out. I remember
when I got in an automobile wreck and my two sons were with me. They
came and put my fertilizer out and done my plowing and planted my
crops. They sure don't do that today. Your neighbors don't even know
you. I weren't raised up to be different than that and I miss those
days." reflected Clyde.

     "Me and Mamie don't belong to any certain church. We just visit
around where ever we want to. I guess if I ever join it'll be over
there at Oak Grove. I can only read a little so I've never read the
Bible, but I believe it, and I believe in God. My family didn't go to
church. I don't even know if they had a church back then for if they
did no one talked about it. I'm sure there were some around, but we
just didn't go. I don't remember how or when I learned about God, but
I've just always known about Him.

     "I hear these people always saying who's going to heaven, and
who's not going, but I don't see how they, or anyone else knows who is
going to heaven. That's too far back for them to know.

     "I know how I was raised and what kind of people I came from.
They were honest hard working people whose word was their bond, their
back pocket their bank, their word sealed with a handshake.

     "When our family members died we made their caskets. I still have
some boards out there in my shed now. We laid them out on a cooling
board, and stayed up all night if necessary making their casket. Then
the women padded it, and we took 'em to the cemetery the next day."
remembered Clyde.

     "Yea, I can still hear the little tap, tap, tap of those hammers
making the casket while we fixed the body," said Mamie.

     "And we didn't have any flowers on the graves like they do now,"
he said.

     "My Grandma Mary Thrift delivered me and all my children," said
Mamie. "My two boys were born at Grandpa's old house, but me and Frank
had moved into another one of Grandpa's old houses when Minnie came.
My Grandma was the midwife in this area."

     In fact, Mary Thrift delivered many of Clyde's brothers and
sisters.

     "I wasn't told anything about the facts of life, what I learned I
learned from animals on the farm, but we've never had any trouble
figuring things out like they do today," he laughed.

     Somethings will never change. They may never scrub their floors
with river sand, and leave a small amount to cut down on the dust or
have need to bathe in the Sand's washhole cut from the river, or
gather Spanish moss from the surrounding oak trees to boil in the big
boilers to kill the growth to make their mattresses, labor over
fireplace cooking or even on a wood stove, but they still remember how
to pile the ingredients into the cooking pots and make them taste the
same as in Grandma's day when everything tasted so much better.

     Mamie's pantry is full of bright clear jelly made from grapes and
mayhaw.

     "If you want it to stay clear and pretty put a teaspoon of butter
in the recipe and seal," she said. "It will always stay clear and
pretty and won't turn dark."

     Her chicken and dumplings are a favorite.

     "I make my dumplings with self rising flour, an egg and use the
broth from the chicken as liquid for the flour. I roll them out real
thin, then hang each dumpling over a pan for about 20 minutes to
'toughen up', she said, "before I put them into the boiling hot broth.
Those dumplings won't tear up no matter how many times you warm them
over, and I also add a can of cream of chicken soup in my broth for
flavor.

     When she cooks anything that smells or has an odor like collard
greens, tripe, or hog chitterlings, she puts four whole pecans (in the
shell) in the pot.

     "If you do that you'll never smell up your house with anything
your are cooking. Just take the pecans out and discard when the food
is done," she says with confidence.

     Her hog chitterlings never smell when cooking even if she doesn't
use the pecans.

     "I just wash them real good several times and turn them inside
out Then I pack them in a pan and roll them in salt. I let them set
overnight. In the morning I wash them again, turn them inside out
again and then wash them in cornmeal. That gets all the little pieces
of slick off. Then after another good washing they are then boiled
tender and ready to eat and they never have an odor."

     In the cool of the shade trees that stand strong and tall in
their perfectly manicured yards, swept clean and free of any sign of a
blade of grass, is a unique peace that is a rare find in today's
hustle and bustle world. At times it seems as if you only have to
reach out your hand to touch the sun-gilded edge of the clouds above
as the evening sun is sinking to the far west of their sun-kissed
fields. it is a treasure beyond any attempt to place a worth.

     And nestled on a little plot of land beneath the clear blue sky
of their peaceful retreat are the unmarked graves of a few of those
long ago ancestors who were laid to rest too long ago for anyone
living to remember. It is a sacred spot for Mamie and Clyde and others
in the family. They know that some of the little infant children who
died before life began for them are buried there, grandparents and
great grandparents, aunts and uncles. And some members of the Batten
and Drawdy families were placed there in the little community burial
plot. But sadly enough, no one knows for sure just who, or how many
lie beneath the peaceful sky in the field of their labors. The wooden
markers have fallen prey to decay and completely destroyed when Aaron
Thrift torched the woods once.( Mamie attended the funeral of Spencer
Sands there) And like many of those long ago forebears who had so
little, but left so much, the realistic phase of their life has almost
passed into oblivion. But the memories linger in the minds of those
few left behind who still remember when it was an even better time,
maybe not materially, but in the end what counts the most. Their
ancestors lives depict an American saga about underlying faith,
something greater and more powerful than mankind. It was a faith that
triumphs over adversities and lends to establish courage and fortitude
to a way of living for the early settlers who created a proud heritage
for those who followed them.

     The end

FOOTNOTE. GENEALOGY RECORDS OF THE CLYDE SANDS FAMILY

CLYDE SANDS, born Georgia Bend in Charlton Co. July 29, 1916 Married
(1) Thyra Topist MCDuffle in Macclenny on Feb. 1, 1941.
She was born in Charlton, Co., Sept 9, 1910 and died Aug 25, 1967. She
is buried Oak Grove Cemetery. Her parents are W.O. McDuffie and Kate
Powell.

Clyde Sands married (2) Mamie Thrift Lee on Feb. 23, 1974
She was born in the Georgia Bend on December 1, 1918 and was delivered
by her grandmother Mary Thrift.

Two sons born to Clyde and Thyra (McDuffie) Sands are:
Clyde Dell Sands, born March 4, 1942, at McCoy Sawyer Hospital in
Folkston, Georgia.
Ferman Kay Sands, born May 12, 1943 at McCoy Sawyer Hospital in
Folkston, Ga. (see additional information on marriage and children in
McDuffie sketch.)

Parents of Clyde Sands were:

George Washington Sands born July 17, 1889, Moniac, Ga. died Nov. 1,
1970 in Macclenny. He married Nellie Thrift Sands, born April 23,
1896, in the Georgia Bend area. They married July 22, 1913 in
Charlton, Co., Ga. by Justice of Peace J.J. Stokes. She died Mar. 2,
1960. They are buried in Oak Grove Cemetery. Nellie's parents were
Joseph Thrift and Caroline Raulerson of the Georgia Bend area.

George Washington Sands and Nellie Thrift's eleven children were:

(1) CLYDE, born on July 29, 1916. An (2) INFANT GIRL, date of birth
and death unknown, (3) HOLLAND, born Dec. 13, 1919, died May 6, 1977.
He married Beulah Mae Yarbrough Aug 18, 1946 at the home of her
parents, James Corbett and Sadie Mae (Thrift) Yarbrough in Macclenny.
Holland is buried in Oak Grove Cemetery. He married (2) Vicki
Crockett. He and Beulah Mae had two children, a daughter Sanella Raye
born May 18, 1953 in Duval County, Fl. and Holland Kendrick Sands born
30 June 1957 also in Duval County. Sanella Raye married Paul Gene
Lindsey on 30 Sept. 1972. Ken Sands, married Debra Jean Lee 21 Aug.
1976. (4) INFANT BOY, date of birth unkn, (5) MAXIE born April 14,
1922, married Sarah Dollie Kirkland daughter of Steve and Nova Irene
"Novie" (Garrett) Kirkland May 29, 1950. They had two children, Maxine
Pamela born in Duval County on Jan 16, 1952. She married Gerald (1)
Orval Jones and (2) Raymond Raulerson. Maxie Dewayne was born in Duval
County Nov. 12, 1953. He married Nancy Smedley daughter of Ray and
Ellen (Theis) Smedley. (6) INEZ was born Aug. 27, 1925, in Moniac,
Charlton, Ga. She married Lonnie James Taylor, son of Lonnie Buford
and Ethel Theo (Kelly) Taylor, on Sept. 18, 1949 in Macclenny Fl. at
the home of J.C. Yarbrough. Their two children are Lonnie James
Taylor, Jr. born Oct 9, 1955 in Duval Co., Fl. He married Debra Lee
Osteen on Aug. 12, 1978. Sandra Louise Taylor born Jan. 27, 1960 Duval
Co. is unmarried. (7) GEORGE WASHINGTON 'DUB' SANDS, was born Nov. 9,
1927. On Sept. 1, 1949 he married Edna Burnsed, daughter of James
Harley and Lossie (Rhoden) Burnsed, in Macclenny. They had three
children: George Michael born Jan. 31, 1951 in Duval Co., Fl. He
married Sherry Collins. Sherree Lynn Sands born Dec. 3, 1954 in Duval
Co. She married Bryon Brinkley June 1972 and Terri Ann Sands was born
April 1, 1967 in Duval Co. She married John Adams on Nov. 23, 1985.
(8) INFANT BOY, date of birth unkn.,(9) RALPH born Aug. 13, 1932,
married (1) Etta Elizabeth (Betty) Taylor, daughter of Robert Phillip
Taylor and Ossie Irene Braington, Jan. 10, 1964 in Macclenny, Fl. They
have two children Kelly Taylor Sands born Aug 20, 1964 in Duval Co.
and John Taylor Sands born Nov. 3, 1967 in Duval County. John married
Patricia Lynn (Patty) (Sharman) daughter of Charlie and Glenda (Lee)
Crawford on June 13, 1992. Ralph married (2) Margaret Sue Burnsed at
the home of Clyde and Mamie Sands in Charlton County Georgia on Feb
23, 1985. She is the daughter of Charles and Lena (Bedenbaugh)
Burnsed. (10) CEC1L was born, May 22, 1935. He married Betty Hall,
daughter of Albert A. and Annie Lee Hall in Macclenny Nov. 8, 1969.
(11) ANNIE LOUISE was born Feb. 26, 1938. She married (2) Ronald E.
Rogers, son of Price Henry and Mary Jane (Edenfield) Rogers on June
17, 1962, in Jacksonville. Their two children are Annell Jacqueline
(Raulerson) born Sept. 9, 1958 in Macclenny and David Allen Rogers
born Jan. 22, 1969 in Duval Co., Fl. (Annell is Annie's daughter from
first marriage to Violice Raulerson.)

Paternal grandparents of Clyde Sands are:

John Newton Sands was originally from Coffee County Ga. He was born
Dec 28, 1851. He married Sarah (Arnolds) nicknamed Salley Sands who
was born Feb. 16, 1861. They married on April 2, 1882 in Ware Co. Ga.
They settled in Charlton County Georgia.

Their known children were.

George Washington Sands born July 17, 1889, Mamie born July 14, 1896,
James Newton born March 10, 1898, Lula born Feb. 10, 1899, Spencer
born June 30, 1903, Ellen June 26, 1905. Mamie died Nov. 22, 1898.

Clyde Dell Sands not married.

Ferman Kay Sands married Linda Sue Harvey on June 18, 1979 in
Folkston, Ga. She was born Feb. 20, 1949 in Baker County. Their
children are (1) Jeremy Clyde Sands, born June 9, 1980 at Ed Fraser
Memorial Hospital in Macclenny. (2) Walter Clayton Sands born Mar. 9,
1984 in Lake Shore Hospital in Lake City Fl.

Kay and Linda's children from Linda's first marriage are: (1) Robert
Rollin Griffis born August 21, 1967, Ed Fraser Hospital in Macclenny,
(2) Anthony Daryl Griffis born Aug. 30, 1969 at St Vincent's Hospital
in Jacksonville. (3) Brian Keith Griffis born Feb. 12, 1977 Ed Fraser
Memorial Hospital in Macclenny.

Kay and Linda's grandchildren are: Ryan Cody Griffis born June 25,
1990, Rollin Griffis, Jr. born Feb. 10, 1991, and Dillon born March
24, 1992. All three children were born St Vincents Hospital in
Jacksonville.

Ferman Kay married (1) Kathryn Johns who was born Feb. 21, 1934 in
Woodbine, Ga. on June 12, 1970. Their son is Ferman Kay Sands, Jr. who
was born at Ed Fraser Memorial Hospital in Macclenny on April 4, 1971.

FAMILY OF THYRA TOPIST McDUFFIE wife of Clyde Sands

Father was W.L. McDUFFIE, born June 2, 1872 in Charlton Co., Ga.. He
married Catherine Powell who was born Feb. 8, 1877 on Dec 17, 1895.
Their children were.

(1) Lafayette McDuffie born in Wainwright Ga. on March 18, 1898.(2)
Ada Beatrice McDuffie born Nov. 18, 1900, (3) Herbert Perkins McDuffie
born Oct. 16, 1902, (4) Henry Ermine McDuffie born Uptonville, Ga.
March 11, 1905 (5) Kermit Exurn McDuffie born May 21, 1908,(6) Thrya
Topist McDuffie born Sept. 9, 1910, (6) Monie Alberta McDuffie born
Oct. 16, 1912, (7) Eyre Verona McDuffie born Feb. 1, 1915 and (8)
Willie Mayonese McDuffie born Sept. 29, 1917.

FOLLOWING ARE THE NAMES OF THOSE KNOWN TO BE BURIED IN THE LITTLE
COMMUNITY CEMETERY WITH UNMARKED GRAVES.

John Newt, Salley, Mamie, Spencer, and Felton Sands. Two unnamed
infants of George W., and three unnamed infants of James (Jim) Sands,
one girl and two boys. (In another area nearby on Sands family
property are the unmarked graves of two infants of George W. Sands.
One is buried in a shoe box, the other an ammunition box according to
the family research of Clyde Dell Sands for this book.) Members of the
Drawdy and Batton families.

_____________________________________________________________________________


                              MARY FINLEY
                        Baker County, Educator

     Surely this book would not be complete without this story. For
almost a half century the influence of tantalizing aromas from Baker
County kitchens have had their beginnings under the guidance and
direction of a Baker County gourmet matriarch.

     The spirit of the old days blend with the new when it comes to
Mary McAlpin Finley, a connoisseur of endless talents that have in
fact for the past four decades fanned the flames of homefires and
added warmth and glow to many a family hearth in Baker County.

     Chances are if your wife or husband can make a golden flaky pie
crust, a mouth watering custard pie, a delicious and economical potato
casserole, sew on a button, or hem a dress, Mary Finley taught them
the art. Many a young girl's first prom formal and dazzling corsage
has been under the guidance and inspiration of Mary Finley.

     Baker County first met her in 1948, but her life began in rural
White Springs in Northeast Florida's Hamilton County on May 26, 1927
at the home of her maternal grandfather, Randolph (Dolph) Cone. The
only child of Joseph William, and Elizabeth (Cone) McAlpin, was
delivered by Dr. D.N. (Dan) Cone, a popular cousin physician in White
Springs. The little bundle of dynamic energy weighed two pounds and 12
ounces at birth.

     "I was premature because my mother had the mumps," she said. "At
one year I only weighed 13 pounds, but I was walking and talking and
some people say I've never hushed."

     Mary descends from a long line of Florida pioneer stock. Her
paternal grandparents were Joseph P and Fannie (Smith) McAlpin. Her
maternal grandfather Randolph Cone married Bessie Goodbread from a
long line of distinguished Columbia Countians. She died during a
typhoid fever epidemic when Mary's mother was only 14 years old.
Mary's mother, Elizabeth Goodbread Cone, married Joseph McAlpin on May
9, 1921.

     Marys paternal grandfather, Joseph, had encouraged his only son
to study Agriculture in college and it was while he was doing so that
his father died.

     "My grandfather died in December, so my father dropped out of
school to run the farm with his sister Suzie who was married to Emmett
Jordan from Reidsville, Ga. After my parents married my father bought
a 457 acre farm not too far from the old homeplace and that is where I
lived and grew up from the age of four years old."

     Though born only a mite, she proved herself at a very young age
when she began school with her first cousin Johnny Jordan, who shared
the same birthday.

     "Because I was so little the teacher put me in the Primer Class
with a Primer reader. Johnny was put in first grade with a first grade
reader. When I got home from school that day I told my mother I wasn't
going back to school because I could read both readers and I thought I
should be in first grade with Johnny." When she proved this to her
mother, and her teacher, she went directly to the first grade ... with
cousin Johnny. At the end of the year she was promoted to the third
grade. By fourth grade she transferred from her little two room school
house to the White Springs elementary and throughout her school years
she held a class office almost every year, played in the school band
and was a hard nosed guard on the White Springs basketball team. In
1944, at the age of 16, she graduated with honors from White Springs
High School as class president and valedictorian.

     "I always knew what I wanted to be," she said in a recent home
interview. "I love anything to do with homemaking," she said, "I had
spent most of my time with my mother in the kitchen watching her cook,
or sitting by her side while she sewed. She would give me some scraps
of material to keep me busy and I'd make doll clothes."

     And that wasn't all Mary learned to do. At an early age she was
influenced by her community oriented father that she says, "did
everything."

     "He use to say if anybody wanted him to do anything he'd have to
do it between the hours of three and five a.m. He was always busy."

     And Mary stayed busy too. On her parents productive farm lived
sharecroppers and their families.

     "I'd make their children's clothes. They'd buy the material and
buy enough for me a dress as well." she said.

     Her family was usually among the first in the community to have
modern conveniences. Mary remembers the Super Fix Refrigerator in her
parent's home that they used until the late 40s.

     "It had a two burner stove on one end we would make a fire on one
side of it and make ice on the other side. It only had two ice trays."
she recalled. And she remembers the first battery operated radio and
how people would come gather in her parent's parlor to listen to the
new oddity.

     Time quickly passed and in the fall of 1944 Mary entered Florida
State College for Women (FSCW) in Tallahassee to major in Home
Economics. Three years later FSCW became Florida State University and
the following year, 1948, Mary graduated from FSU with a Bachelor of
Home Economics degree. Her next move was to chose a suitable location
to call home and began her professional career.

     Joseph McAlpin was serving in the State's legislature as a
representative from Hamilton County when Mary graduated. ( He served
from 1945-1965). His colleague, State Representative Bob Burnsed from
Baker County, suggested to him that Mary apply for employment in Baker
County since his brother Jimmy was school superintendent and needed a
Home Economics teacher. Mary interviewed for several jobs, but decided
to chose the one with the higher pay, that at Baker County's then
Macclenny-Glen High School where Mr. Harold Milton was principal. And
too, she said, "it was closer to home."

     She settled into a room in the famed Hotel Annie on Main Street
and made fast friends with another new comer, basketball 1950-51 coach
Elizabeth Gazdick who lived there also. The hotel was well-known for
its celebrated fried chicken and delectable homemade vegetables and
deserts. That worked out fine with Mary, especially after encountering
the school's primitive working conditions.

     "Our class rooms were equipped with an old iron pot belied wood
burning stove," she remembered. "The students would climb down the
fire escape to get the green pine wood that we could never get to burn
very well." she said.

     After the initial shock of the scant equipment in her department
Mary set about to improve things and found that her efforts were
eventually well rewarded.

     "When I first came there was only one cooking stove and three
sewing machines for 16-18 students. Mr. Burnsed bought an old oil
stove that couldn't be regulated and burned everything we tried to
bake so we only used it for top of the stove cooking. I wasn't use to
an oil stove, in fact never used one at all. The thing smoked up
everything."

     Finally Florida Power and Light stepped in and furnished four new
electric stoves for the Home Economics Department about three years
later. "That was a real boost," she noted.

     "And we had to keep those stoves spotless because Alice Jones
would come by and check them regularly. My students will have no
trouble remembering that, I'm sure!" she said.

     Some of her former students remember well the experiences they
had with their teacher.

     Bobbie Sue (Dugger) Rowe remembers when her cooking class kept
adding butter to the mashed potatoes trying to get them soft enough.

     "We didn't think to put milk in them," she said. "Boy was Mrs.
Finley upset with us."

     And there was the time someone in the class took Gedone
(Raulerson) Prachar's apple.

     "When Gedone went to look for it Mrs. Finley said to the class,
'Produce Gedone's apple', and someone handed her the core. It had been
all around the classroom and everyone had taken a Bite!"

     "We all were given a zero on our grade," said Bobbie Sue. "My
grades were real good and I was about to be exempt from my exams so I
was really upset over that zero."

     She remembers being exempt anyway, "but I barely made it because
of that zero."

     "She was hard, but she was good," remembers Gedone Raulerson
Prachar. "I may not have ever left Macclenny had it not been for her.
She took me to my first hotel when we went to a Future Homemakers
Convention. And you had to act like a lady. She was fanatical about
etiquette, and good behavior. Anyway, somehow you just wanted to be
good for her."

     According to Bobbie Sue, "She brought something to our community
that we needed and had never had before. She'd been around educated
people, her daddy had been in the legislation, and her mother a
teacher. If a party was given by Mary, if it had her name on the
invitation as a hostess, everyone would go. They knew it would be nice
and classy, and everyone would enjoy the party. She just had that
special something that special knack."

     Bobbie Sue was the first student to make a formal and among the
first to knit.

     "I remember that me and Verna (Fraser) Hunt knitted a sweater
under Mrs. Finley. I loved Home Ec. And she was such a good teacher."
she said.

     And there were the salad days. Mrs. Finley would give the class
two sheets of recipes for salads and each student would be responsible
for making a salad.

     One was the candle salad. The students had trouble with this one
because they had to stand a banana up inside the round hole in a
sliced pineapple which was on a lettuce leaf. When the banana was
standing the student made a hole in the top of the banana and put a
cherry on top.

     Another favorite salad was a peach half on a lettuce leaf with
the peach center filled with a cream cheese filling (a little
mayonnaise added) and nuts mixed in. If it was too thick you added
just a little milk.

     Gedone remembered the spiced ham dinners.

     "I can't remember what we had with them, maybe some roasted
potatoes, but I do remember how good that ham was." said her former
student.

     Today Dollie (Kirkland) Register, one of Baker County's most
experienced seamstress, gives her Home Ec. teacher the credit for her
expertise in sewing.

     "If you sewed in her class every stitch had to be right, and I
learned the importance of that early on," she said.

     And I'll have to add a personal note here that the potato
casserole I learned to make in her class is still a favorite and now
my children make it for their families, not to mention all the people
I have handed the recipe down to through the years. It is her original
recipe like many of the others she used.

     Betty (Taylor) Sands a 34 year veteran English teacher in the
Baker County School system was also a former student. When Mary
retired in January of 93 Betty felt her loss heavily.

     "I relied on her expertise more than I can say. It doesn't mean
when you walk out that everything walks out with you. A part of her
will always be with me."

     Betty learned to crochet from Mary Finley. "What I learned from
her has given me so much pleasure. I still use a piece of crochet I
did in her class."

     But Betty learned something she says is far more important than
crochet. There were more important skills.

     "She taught me an attitude and a spirit. She taught me not only
to do things right, but to want to do them right."

     Tim Starling present day County School Superintendent was one of
her first students.

     "She got me started cooking," he said. "Today that's my therapy,
the way I relax, the way I deal with stress, and I still make the
apple turnovers she taught me how to make."

     But Startling had deeper feelings for his former teacher.

     "Some people are status leaders and some are esteemed leaders. Of
her I have to say she is an esteemed leader. She is a roll model of
the highest caliber."

     Gale Raulerson (Mrs. Marcus) Rhoden, currently principal of
Westside Elementary who next year will become Baker County's first
female high school principal, said of her, "She molded me, my
leader-ship ability came from her. I owe her so much."

     Gale said her mother, Lyma (Raulerson), and Mary Finley had plans
for her long before she had them for herself.

     "You know, I was more interested in boys, especially Marcus, but
their love and interest in me was patient and kind." Marcus Rhoden.
Gale's highschool sweetheart and husband, remembers when he and his
classmate Mackey McDuffie ate all the pineapple planned for their
salad class. That is, they ate all but one slice.

     "Tom Handley, another classmate, came into class just before we
ate the last slice, so he grabbed it" Marcus recalled. "Before he
could swallowed it Mrs. Finley came back to class and caught him. We
told her Tom had eaten the whole can, and before another word could be
said she grabbed Tom by the ear and marched him to the principal, N.J.
Johns's, office. Back in those days you got a paddling and well ....
that's the end of the story, but the moral is Mrs. Finley didn't put
up with nonsense."

     Macclenny's City Manager, Gerald Dopson, was one of Mary's
students back in the 60s. Here's what Gerald remembers.

     "The particular group of boys I went to school with were real
roudy, and we were actually looking for easy classes to take. We
thought it would be simple in Modern Family Living and jumped at the
opportunity to sign up. Well some of us that had that idea had to sit
up front so she could keep an eye on us. I admit I was one of 'em. But
we soon found out that even though she was strict she possessed that
unique personality that made you look forward to her class. It ended
up to be one of my most rewarding experiences and I learned many
positive things. She had an effect of tranquility on us, you just
wanted to perform respectfully for her. `She was a great influence
because she showed you that it was possible to be firm, but kind, and
that it was better to act respectful. She just had that kind of
ability and effect on her students."

     Her earlier students will also remember something else. The funds
were very limited for athletics and activities. Only $2.50 expense was
allotted per student annually. Economizing was essential. Ingenuity
helped and Mary Finley was instilled with both. In the Home Economics
Department she directed many helpful projects.

     "We washed and mended many uniforms, made majorette and
cheerleader uniforms, prepared refreshments for almost every occasion
in the community and always was represented in any activity that
students entered," she said. "Fashion shows were a must for all
students who made garments in class, and I usually narrated the shows
for school and civic groups."

     The students learned to make formals, tailored suits, do copper
enameling and make aluminum trays, basket weaving, and crochet Her
students entered flower shows. (One student Bobbie Sue(Dugger) Rowe
made her first corsage in Mary's class and won a blue ribbon in the
flower show. She went on to become one of Baker County's most talented
florist).

     In addition Mary sponsored the junior class for many years
directing many banquets and proms. The annual Future Homemakers
Chapter (FHA) and Future Farmers Chapter (FFA) banquets were always
decorated and served by the Home Economic girls for FFA and the boys
in turn served the FHA. These banquets were the highlight of the
school year for many parents and students, she said.

     In fact it was a era that will most likely not pass our way
again. It was a time to get personally close not only to students but
to the student's family as well.

     "When I first began teaching home economics I made home visits
and fashioned projects for the students based on their needs at home,"
she said. "That would not be possible today because there are major
differences in the family that have brought about changes over the
years. Both parents work now and would not be home. And too, the
economy has changed."

     In the early days the girls and boys exchanged classes about
three weeks each school term. The girls went to Agriculture and the
boys came to Home Economics.

     "Those boys came to class thinking they were going to have a ball
and a big fun adventure and far be it from studying." she said. "But
they soon discovered differently and I think they really enjoyed it,
even so. I still see them today and they tell me they remember what
they learned." Two of her first students were Tim Starling, present
School Superintendent, and Dwight Jones, Manager of Cool-Aire
Corporation in Jacksonville. Both grew up to be good cooks and refined
gentlemen.

     And then a new course was established, Modern Family Living.

     "I've taught about half the men in the county," she said. Some of
her first male students were Adam (Pee wee) Brinson, Larry Prevatt,
Marcus Rhoden, Earnest Long, Frank Dorman, Paul Raulerson, Gary
Milton, Tommy Johns, Gerald Dopson, Gary Dopson, Raleigh Knabb, Lacey
Crews, Donnie Simmons, and R.L. Starling.

     And she was fairly strict too.

     "I did not allow gum chewing in my room at all. As far as I'm
concerned that is etiquette rule number one, no gum chewing in public.
If they chewed gum in my room they had to sweep the floor. just ask
Naomi (Crews) Roberson," she Laughed.

     And my students learned to set a proper table too. A glass of
water was always put on the table. Now a days you have to ask for a
glass of water in most restaurants, but I told my students it is just
as easy to do things correctly as not to. It's just as easy for the
knife and spoon to go on the right side and the fork on the left as
all three to be put on one side of the plate. I really think etiquette
is something the student should practice every day and not just on
special occasions. I tried to instill that in all my students."

     She particularly remembers with humor two of her male students,
Tommy Handley and Mackie McDuffie in her beginning class.

     "We made cup cakes and the boys mischievously took the cupcakes
and ate them. When I found out who did it I contacted their parents
and told them I was going to charge the boys $1.00 a piece for each
cupcake. The parents agreed, but you could not get away with that
today."

     Cooking classes were always fun and anticipated. It took a week
to make ready for the food they would prepare.

     "We used a lot of hamburger in those days because it was cheap
and went a long way. We really had to stretch the ingredients even
though we were provided with food commodities like butter and powdered
eggs."

     And there were many fun times. Well .... now they can be funny.
Like the time the powdered sugar got mixed up with the flour. That was
easily determined when the onion rings hit the frying pan and the
icing on the cake wasn't sweet And there was a time when the cake
baked over and over and over in the oven. By mistake a cup of soda was
used instead of a cup of flour.

     "When you had lots of students doing the cooking those things
were easy to have happen," she explained.

     She remembers the county nurse, Mrs. Bertha Wolfe, would come in
to talk to the students and give as much instructions on the 'facts of
life' that was thought necessary.

     "I remember she'd tell them lots of old wives tales like 'put a
knife under the bed during child birth to cut the pain'.

     As her students grew up, graduated and married she directed many
of their weddings and hosted numerous bridal and baby showers for
them.

     This story would not be a complete story without romance.

     As Mary settled into the community she and her friend Liz
(basketball coach at Macclenny-Glen) and another teacher Mary Clark
(basketball coach at Sanderson) moved to the College Street home of
Raymond Thomas, the school custodian where they rented a small
apartment.

     "I remember that Thad Reynolds was our ice man and we took turns
getting up at 5 a.m. three times a week to let him in with the ice for
our icebox," she said.

     "I usually went to all the ball games because Mary and Liz were
coaches. Liz was dating Mike (Gazdick) and he told me he had someone
who wanted to meet me. It ended up being my neighbor, Maines Finley,
and later when Liz and I moved across the street with Nancy Dowling
and rented rooms I could see Maines from our front porch in his
mother's kitchen doing the dishes."

     The two met and courted for about three years.

     "Liz married Mike in August and I married Maines in December,"
she noted. And the two couples have remained life-long friends.

     "There wasn't any trouble talking Maines into a dish washer
either when we married." she noted. The couple build a home at 330
South College Street where they still reside. Their only child, Linda
Susan Finley was born in 1957, and grew up under her mother's
guidance, but decided on a career as an attorney. "We did everything
together though, while she was going to school and before she began
her career. She was active in the band, 4-H Club, Future Homemakers,
Rainbow Girls and just about anything else you can name. I rode a
school bus more times than I'll ever be able to remember going with
her to all the activities. It was wonderful and I enjoyed every minute
of it."

     Action was the course she followed. Among the countless things
she did was to be a sponsor of the Future Homemakers of America.
Through her guidance the Baker County chapter produced seven state FHA
officers. She remembers with pride that they were: Gedone Raulerson
Prachar, Gale Raulerson Rhoden, Carolyn Mobley Tyndall, Flo Ann Milton
Holloway, Sharon Finley Moore, Rachel Gilbert Nasrallah, and Nan North
Burnsed. Two were National Committee members.

     In 1972, after a 24 year career in the Home Economics field, Mary
became an Occupational Specialist for the Baker County Educational
School System, a job she has loved because she has been able to help
numerous students secure financial aid and make career decisions to
further their education.

     "The most rewarding thing about teaching is to see your students
grow and develop into successful citizens and take their place in the
community as leaders," she said with obvious self satisfaction.

     After 44.6 years thought to be the record for the most
consecutive years of teaching in Baker County's School District, she
retired January 29, 1993 amid showers of praise and accolades.

     "People look at me and say, "what are you gonna do now?" Well
I've never caught up." she said.

     She and Maines ( who retired from the Department of Revenue after
31 years of Service in 1987 ) operate the 457 acre farm in White
Springs, much like in the days when she and her parents lived there.
The old farm house is still the same, there is an abundance of pasture
for their grazing cattle, and plenty of farming going on as well which
means in the summertime there is canning and freezing to do. ( Her
father died in 1970 and for the following 10 years her mother lived
with them in their Macclenny home. For two years her mother was a
resident at Wells Nursing Home until her death in 1982.) Though
daughter Linda is currently positioned as an attorney for Mccall,
Rhymer, Patrick, Cobb, Nichols and Clark law firm in Atlanta, Ga. she
visits often.

     Meanwhile Mary basks in all the homage bequeathed at her
retirement. Hundreds attended a reception in her honor at the
Macclenny Womens Club at which time School Superintendent Tim Starling
presented her with a resolution from the governor and cabinet praising
all her years of labor for state and local service.

     She was feted in style by friends and colleagues who further
praised her hard work and dedication to education throughout her
career. Among her many honors through the years included being awarded
Teacher of the Year in 1969-70, and as Outstanding Educator in 1992 by
the Florida Career Development Association.

     In March of 1993 the Sertoma Club of Macclenny honored Mary by
conferring upon her their coveted Service to Mankind Award. Once again
hundreds of Baker County citizens turned out to pay a richly deserved
tribute to this devoted and highly esteemed educator and friend who
has earned their respect and esteem. She will long be remembered for
her untiring energy, high ideals, broad vision, lofty principals and
purpose for she has lived a life so full of accomplishments that few
can match the honor and respect that is associated with her name.