Farm life at 949 Berne St.

As told by Beverly Greene King, Daughter of Catherine Smith Greene:

I remember Granddaddy trying to teach me how to milk their cow but I never got very good

at it.  Of course, I was very young.  I loved to watch him milk her.  I remember gathering eggs in the Chicken coup and was

so excited if I found one with two yolks.  I have never liked the white.  The texture makes me gag.

I remember helping Grandmother churn buttermilk or butter and that she used Honey instead of sugar making a cake or

cooking.  She put a little on Squash and Green beans and maybe some other vegetables.  Mother also did that and I do.

Just enough to help flavor it but not enough to taste it....carrots too.  I remember Grandmother slinging our Chicken for dinner

around by its neck and chopping off its head and feet and then plucking out the feathers and cutting it up into pieces to fry.

She felt bad about it because she was tender hearted but it was what a person did to have Chicken in the old days.  I remember

your Daddy (Bo) and probably Uncle Gerald building her a Greenhouse and all the beautiful plants she grew.  She was partial to

Violets.  She even had glass shelves in her dining room with African Violets on them.  I would help her water them on occasion.

Of course she had other flowers.  I noticed that Nancy has a terraced yard with beautiful flowers planted.  Grandmother and Granddaddy's

back yard was terraced on the side with rock walkways and flowers everywhere.  There was a big leaf mold concrete pit  at the

end of the driveway that originally was used to get under the cars to change the oil or work on them.  I remember your Granddaddy

in particular using it.  Later, Grandmother used it for the leaf mold pit and I am sure put eggshells and other stuff in with the leaves.

Actually there were plants everywhere, down the side of the house between the house and driveway, the part of the yard that wasn't

terraced.  You name it...............plants and bushes everywhere.  I imagine Grandmother did most of it after the children were grown up.

She had to work so hard to do everything in the old days.  I never new how she could manage it all.  I may have mentioned earlier the

old stove ran on wood and when she ironed she put the iron on the iron eye to heat it.  It took more than once to iron some things and

sometimes she could iron small things without putting it back on the stove eye for irons. By the way, the very back of the back yard was

fenced into a chicken yard and the Hen house by it.

My Grandparents' Home on Berne Street

As told by Michelle Nicholas, youngest daughter of Bo and Margaret Smith:

I remember spending the night there once as a small child.   I got to sleep in one of the tiny bedrooms and I could not believe that 6 children grew up there and shared the tiny bedrooms.  I remember seeing Granddaddy's dresser that was probably very old back then, and now it is in my house.  And I loved to touch all the porcelain trinkets that were on the floor to ceiling mantle that was in the living room.  They all seemed so fragile.  And now that mantle is in my living room.  It had beveled mirrors that did not make it from that house.  Maybe they were left in the attic.  These mirrors fascinated me.  And Grandmother had African Violets - shelves of them (I believe Daddy built the shelves for her).   She had a green thumb, and could just place a leaf in a dirt pot and another african violet would grow.  I was never able to do that.  And the front porch was so nice - it was screened and had a swing, I believe, or a big chair.  I remember the big driveway pit that Beverly spoke of - I think it was already a leaf container when I was old enough to remember.  The front yard was small and very shady with stepping stones and plants, and next door were the Garbutts, friends of my parents.    It seemed like a very warm house to me - built with love for the large family and added on to over the years by their loving son, my Daddy.

Bo Smith in the Navy

Photo of Bo and Margaret Smith

yard at 949 Berne Street

One thing I remember about 949 Berne Street is the concrete pit at the end of the driveway.  It seems the driveway widened toward the house about where the covered patio was at the bottom of the steps, on the left side was the pit.  I don't know if it was there when all six children were growing up or if it was added later.  I remember Uncle Bo in particular pulling the cars over the pit to change the oil or work on something he got to from under the car.  I wish I could remember if my Granddaddy Smith did that when I was very young or not.

At some point, Grandmother used it for her "Leaf Mold Pit".  I don't know if she put any garbage that would make good fertilizer in it, but definitely nothing that smelled bad.  I remember the way the right side of the yard was terraced with big rock steps so Grandmother could work in her flowers.  The flowers covered the whole back yard back to the garden area, which was in front of the fenced-in Chicken area and Small Hen House, which had an area just large enough to milk the cow.  I imagine (but don't know) that there was more yard and less flowers when the children were growing up.

At some point I remember Uncle Bo and Uncle Jarold and probably Granddaddy built Grandmother a Greenhouse that one went into from the basement.  At the bottom of the stairs you could turn right and go down a few more stairs (my memory is they were cement and not wood like the stairs coming down from the back porch) or you could go down one more step and open the door to the basement, which I remember as having a paved area where Grandmother killed the chickens.

I am trying to remember if the huge window facing the driveway was always there and if it opened to the side.  Grandmother loved to sit down there in a rocking chair in the winter and feel the sun coming in, during her older days.

Beverly

Sewing patterns for aprons

I remember those patterns well and my Grannie and Grandmother wearing an apron over their dresses all the time from when they got up to when they retired for the night.  Mother wore one a lot but not all day, like they did.

I have four aprons at my disposal and I am always going to wear them when I cook, but I forget.  I have one hanging in the kitchen, but even that has become a fixture and I forget to wear it.

Oh, for the good ole days.

When I was young, before they outlawed cows and chickens in the Atlanta City Limits where my Grandparents lived, my Grandmother had chickens and they had a cow which Granddaddy milked most of the time.  I was going to learn how but I can attest there is a method of milking a cow that I never was quite able to master.  So, I had to settle for gathering eggs in the hen house.  I always looked for the brown ones because they had double yolks and I love egg yolks and detest egg whites unless they are scrambled so no white shows.    There is a story behind that, having to do with being a skinny, anemic child, believe it or not.  Anyway, growing up, my sister hated the yolk so we sneaked and swapped my white for her yolk.  I tell her now that we know cholesterol is bad, that even as a child she was trying to kill me with her yolks.

I remember the wood burning stove at Grandmothers and she even had to heat her iron on it.  It had a special place to heat irons and once the heat was gone from the iron, she sat it back down to warm again.  I remember how she killed a chicken, plucked it and cooked the most delicious fried chicken you ever ate.  I won't tell you the procedure, in case you have a weak stomach.

Then there was churning milk to make buttermilk or to make butter.  I did master that.  Best butter and buttermilk there ever was, was made in Grandmother's home.

I hope this hasn't bored you but I think my cousins will enjoy it.  Some of them probably don't have those memories because I, fortunately or unfortunately, hold the distinction of being the oldest grandchild from both sides of my family.

Beverly