Friday, April 23, 2010


I was writing the history of my dad's life. I was desperate to learn anything I could about Kentucky, the state where my dad was born. I couldn't find any information whatsoever. One night I was in bed asleep. I felt the presence of someone. I opened my eyes and looked and lo and behold there was an angel. He motioned me to go with him. I got up, and leaving my body, I hooked arms with him and we began to fly. The night was so dark and it was so very cold. I found myself wishing I had a pair of long-jons to protect me from the cold.

We flew a long, long distance. I still didn't know where we were going. Then we came to a wooded area of maple trees. I left the angel and floated through the clump of trees 'til I came to an opening. There before my very eyes was the little farm the Nickell family lived on. I could see their little cabin in the distance. The cotton field in front of me looked like it had just been cleared as there wasn't a stock of cotton standing. I watched as my Grand parents and their three children walked across the barren field. I couldn't help but notice, the clothing the family wore was all the same color. Material my Grand parents had made from the cotton they had grown. History says they had scutched the cotton before it had become yards of material.
The word scutched left the dictionary, years ago. It was a word the country folks used.

Grand father wore pants and shirt and his outfit was topped off by wearing a homemade hat. Grand mother was wearing a skirt and blouse that was called a middy. Milton, about 12 yrs. old was a blond. He wore nothing but a long shirt past his knees the way the boys dressed in those days. Zinnie was about 10 yrs. old and she wore a middy dress. She was a beautiful girl with long dark ringlets hanging down her back. Ambie was 8 yrs. old. Her hair was blond and her hair was also in ringlets hanging down her back. Jim was 6 yrs. old. He was wearing his long shirt the same as his brother. He had a full head of black wavy hair. I watched as he lagged behind picking up rocks and anything he saw he could play with.

As the family left the little valley, I floated back to the thicket of maple trees and hooked my arm with the angel and we began our cold flight home. As I arrived home I stood at the north window in the living room and looked out at the blue sky and all the stars and thought about where I had been and my family I had seen. It was just midnight. The next day I began writing my dad's story.....

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