History of East Texas and Family

Author: Kat

For a child born near the east Texas town of Fostoria the tang of lumber was always in the air. Sawmill smells like a Mothers caress or a morning spiced by old pine trees. Our Summers seemed forever. Time seemed so long and sweet and ciders of the mill. The whine of the saws hummed all day long. It was a simple world. Everyone shared with neighbors. Times were hard but the lumberyard sustained us. We used our plows to make a garden. We had chickens and cows.

Time has a way of changing and the beloved town was closing down. People were crying on each other shoulders and promising to remember each other forever. The year I believe was 1958. So now faces and voice fade as more and more move away. Many years become as one day. As the company store close the folks will not have this store to see them through till next payday. Many doors close that day. Would be no doctor office or train depot.

Finally the mill whistle wails its last cry. One more era of time has yielded to decay. They are all gone now. The footsteps have all died away. Why do I not feel alone? In memory I know the town again just as it was years gone by. Close my eyes and let my mind drift off with sunlight and rain in a haze as smell of honeysuckles and roses coming down memory lane. By Kat 5-20-03