THE "OLD PLACE"
Written by Margaret Jean Williams in 1973
at the age of 15
We call it the "Old Place." In this old country home, descendants of John Clark Houston, Sr., brother of General Sam Houston, have been born, baptized, reared, and married. It has provided shelter through World War I, the Depression of the Thirties, World War II, and modern days.

A lane of grass and gravel passes over a wooden cattle guard and serves as a pathway to the front of the house. On one side of the lane, huge oak trees stand tall, crepe myrtle trees splash the view with a light pink hue, and the sweet smell of green grass permeates the atmosphere.

The fields extending around the home were once worked from dawn until dusk by those who lived before me. Now, they provide an area for activities at our family reunions.

A wooden gate with a latch opens into the yard around the home. These grounds would appeal to any person's senses. Here many varieties of plants flourish -- old-fashioned red and pink roses, camellia, altheas, snow ball, crab apple tree, daylilies of hues ranging from bronze to pink, magnolia tree, pecan trees; the list is endless.

The "board and bat" house is not at ground level, but is held approximately three feet into the air by pine heart wood blocks. Five steps at the front of the house lead to a large front porch, complete with long, gray benches and a porch swing. While sitting on this front porch, one can hear brown crickets chirp at night, feel the cool breeze blow at sundown, listen to relatives play various musical instruments, or just discuss how the fish are biting at Ten Mile Creek.

Two double doors on the porch mark the entrance to the "dogtrot" hall which stretches to the dining room at the rear of the house. The boards on the floor of the hall have been worn smooth by running children and boot-stomping men. Coats and hats are hung by the hooks on the wall. Extending from the hall are three bedrooms, a living room, and one bathroom.

In one of the bedrooms a picture of my great grandfather Houston is suspended above the fireplace. In other places on the walls are a picture of great grandmother Houston, one of great great grandmother Hardee, and one of great great grandfather and grandmother Houston.

An inspection of the wooden facings around the fireplace reveals the clearly carved initials of some of the family's men. It is in front of this fireplace where my Uncle Bud, a minister, has baptized many members of our family. Three double beds and a baby bed are in this room, as well as several cots. During family reunions, this is one room that provides accommodations for the "wall to wall" people. A door leads from this room to the "dungeon," a tiny, bedroom containing two beds.

During winter, the living room is also heated by a fireplace which is kept burning all day and smoldering at night. This cozy room is the site of domino games and family song fests. At every reunion, those of us who can play a guitar, fiddle, or banjo, gather together and begin playing music. In no time, practically everyone in the family has joined us by singing and foot patting. The type of music ranges from quick-paced "breakdowns" to beautiful church hymns.

The kitchen at the back of the home is not exactly the typical kitchen when my grandmother, great aunts, and great uncles are cooking. Banging pots and pans, boisterous conversation, and a crackling fireplace create a very lively atmosphere in the kitchen. Four or five straight-backed chairs with cowhide bottoms provide a resting place for visitors and those cooking.

Family reunions are held at the "Old Place" on at least three or four occasions during a year, but the Easter reunion is one of the most meaningful celebrations. On this occasion, parked cars line the lane and over one hundred relatives gather at the "Old Place." Those attending are of all ages from the elderly to the newborn.

Saturday after breakfast, different activities spring up. Some men and women skeet shoot and target practice in the fields with firearms ranging from modern pistols, rifles, and shotguns to antique muzzleloaders. Children run in the lane playing childish games. Other relatives make hikes in the woods, play a game called "washers," or sit on the front porch and talk. Some of my great uncles and second cousins challenge each other to a lively game of dominoes. On the back porch, children dye dozens and dozens of boiled eggs, eagerly anticipating the Easter egg hunt held on Sunday.

In the kitchen on a table adjacent to the fireplace, a big crock of juice stands. The juice, ladled with an aluminum dipper, consists of grape juice, mayhaw juice, blackberry juice, plum juice, and many other natural juices. The mixing of all these different flavors creates a savory juice capable of quenching any thirst. Many of the men are barbecuing chicken and sausage.

At noon, long tables are set up on the lawn, and food contributions from each individual family are placed on the table along with the barbecue. These delicious dishes range from duck and cornbread dressing to vegetables, salads, and delightful desserts. Each person eats his fill of food and then relaxes for awhile.

Sunday morning, Uncle Bud preaches the Easter sunrise service in a small white church about a mile from the "Old Place." Deep-voiced men and soprano women are accompanied by crying babies while singing well-loved Easter hymns. As Uncle Bud recounts the story of the risen Christ, the sun shines through the stained glass windows and creates a very touching sensation.

After church we return home to the aroma of fresh pork frying, big "cat head" biscuits baking and scrambled eggs cooking filling the air. These fragrances would arouse anyone's hunger. Jellies and jam and preserves are plentiful. Lines are formed down the hall to the kitchen, and after the blessing, breakfast is served. We eat anywhere there is a place, whether it is at the table in the dining room, in the swing or benches on the front porch, or on the four sets of outside steps.

Around ten thirty several men hide fifteen to twenty dozen brightly colored Easter eggs in a field covered with pine trees. After the eggs are hidden, about thirty noisy children, assisted by excited older folks, scurry about searching for the treasured eggs. A count of the eggs found is made, and when all the eggs are recovered, the family makes its way back to the house.

Later in the day, the Easter celebration ends and reluctantly each member of the family goes on his separate path. The presence of a loving family gathered together on such a special occasion in so lovely a place creates an atmosphere that makes the heart warm and the soul glad.