The Red Flannel Rag

my main reason for wantin’ you to get married was so you’d have kids to take care of you

when you get old.”

Sh e squeezed my hand a little tighter and went on, “I’ve done a lot of thinkin’

while you’ve been in Texas, and I’ve decided to tell you it’s okay with me if you never get

married. I just want you to be happy in whatever you choose to do.” I was astounded at

how much she had thought about me not getting married. I sensed the extent of her

conflict. She had helped me get the money to go to college while at the same time she

was being pressured by the family to have me fulfill the mountain girl’s role of ge tting

married and having a family. I felt a weight lifting off my shoulders because she had

questioned me over the years about getting married. I said, “Mom, I am so happy that

you’re okay with the way I am living my life. It will relieve me of a lot of guilt.” We

turned around and walked slowly back to the house.

Dad: He was the King of his Garden

My dad, Norman Shifflett, was the ninth child of ten. He never talked about his

early childhood, but Uncle Shirley grew up with him and has shared a lot about his early

life with me. When Dad got home from school in the evenings, Grandpa Austin told

him to hitch up the mule and plow the corn.

Uncle Shirley said, “Your daddy was so little when Austin made him plow corn

that he couldn’t reach the plow hand les good enough to hold the blade in the ground. I

saw him put his feet on top of the plow blade to get up high enough to keep the plow in

the ground. Across the field he went with his feet never hitting the dirt.”

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