The Red Flannel Rag

In September of 1946, Uncle Rob suddenly died. He left his fields full of crops to

harvest. Aunt Goldie’s sons were too young to do all the work, so we temporarily moved

in with them. Dad helped Goldie get the crops into the barn before winter. Then we

moved back to our own house.

Not too long after John was born, mom got pregnant again. She told us we were

going to have a little brother or sister, and, of course, we were excited. One Saturday

morning, Dad woke us up really early and put us in the car. I could tell he was really

scared and upset. As he drove us over the hill to Aunt Goldie’s house, we met an

ambulance coming down the hill toward our house. I looked at Dad, but he just drove

on and didn’t say anything.

Later that day, Dad took us back home with him to get us clothes to stay a couple

of days with Aunt Goldie. I was a very curious child, so while we were at our house, I

took my brother, Larry, into the room where Mom and Dad had been sleeping. The bed

was covered with blood and there was a washtub setting by the bed with bloody sheets in

it. I pulled the bloody sheets apart, and there was a tiny dead baby. Both my brother

and I started screaming because we thought Mom was dead too.

Dad came running and gave us each a whack or two across the butt. I managed to

ask him between sobs, “Where’s Mama?” He told us, “She is in the hospital and will be

home in a few days.” He had no choice but to tell us the baby had died. “Your mama

woke up sick in the night and I ran over to Mr. May’s house and Minnie called the

ambulance. The baby was born while I was at their house. It was a little boy, and he

died.”

Aunt Goldie was struggling with finances after Uncle Rob died, so she had to get a

job. Although I was only six years old, I worried about Aunt Goldie not having any

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