Grandpa and Grandma Morgans farm on the hill on Bray Rd.
between Norwood and Norfolk, N.Y. during the late 1930's and early 1940's.

I remember After a huge snowstorm, my aunts Olive and Betty, my
brother Bob and I , having to shovel thru the drifts the
entire length of the road --- about 500 feet long.
I remember The swing on a tree across from the house, which we all enjoyed, because we could soar so high.
I remember Grandma's delicious side pork dinners (and of course
her pies)
I remember Our Sunday family gatherings in the living room
where everyone sang while Uncle Fred chorded on the
piano. His favorite song was "The Little Gray Rabbit".
We sang "There (G7) once was a little gray rabbit (C)
Who got (F) into an awful bad habit (C).
At the table (G7) you know, when the clover (C)
was low, (A7) The little (D7) gray rabbit (G7)would grab
I remember At one family gathering, someone brought 'Limburger
cheese' .  My uncles Ray and Bill enjoyed chasing me and
others around with the 'rancid smell'.
I remember Uncle Bob Haggett riding his horse to the farm to 'court'
Aunt Olive.
I remember The owl tied up in the woodshed.
I remember Playing croquet on the side lawn.
I remember "Laddie" the dog who didn't like thunder and lightning.
I remember Etta Rae. Bob and I got the honor of sleeping over at
Grandmas house a few times. Bob and I in one room and
Etta Rae in the other.  Grandma kept a good watch on
us, and had to send us back to our room a few times.
I remember Our grandfather lying in bed in a room next to the dining
 room, living his last days, suffering from cancer.  He died
July 27, 1944.
I remember Bob and I riding the train (free) from Raymondville to the
farm.  The train would stop at Bray Rd. and let us off.
I remember Grandma's kitchen was a busy place.  She baked bread,
cookies, pies and dough nuts. Grandpa would take
them to Norwood to sell to the stores.
I remember Grandpa milking the cow to supply milk for Grandma's baking.  I would go into the hen house with him to gather eggs. If the hens were on the nest, you had to be careful or they would peck your hand.
I remember Taking Grandma's baked goods to the Wilbur house
on the main road, first place on the right towards
Norfolk.  I was young and quite frightened by the ladys daughter who may have been retarded and made terrible vocal sounds.
I remember Grandpa scolding Etta Rae and I for 'playing house' in the
'outhouse' which was attached to the barn.
I remember One day Grandma told Bob and I to go kill a chicken
for her to cook.  This was our first attempt and we
did not know what to expect.  I believe I held the
chicken by its legs while Bob chopped its head off.
The headless chicken began to flap its wings and
I let go.  It flew into the hayfield and we could not find it.  Grandma was not very happy!
I remember Bob and I walking to the fence line of the Molnar farm
one day and scaring their cows.  Sam  Molnar chased
us and caught us. He scolded the 'heck' out of us
and threatened to tell Grandpa and Grandma.
I remember Riding home to Raymondville from the farm on
Sunday's still singing Dad's favorite The Old Rugged
Cross".  On one of our trips home, Carol fell out of
the car while going slow in Raymondville.  Our car
had the rear 'suicide doors'. Apparently she pushed
down on the door handle and out she went.
She lost a little skin.
I remember In the late 1930's and early 1940's the Army from
Pine Camp (Fort Drum) were training on the farm
land.  Bob and I would take Grandma's baked goods
to them at their 'Command Post' in the woods toward
the railroad tracks.
I remember The Army was also in Raymondville.  Mother made
lettuce and mayo sandwiches and Bob and I took them
to the soldiers.
I remember Mother driving to the farm with us and the soldiers
would shoot blanks under the car as we passed.
There would also be bags of flour on the road which
the airplanes would drop for bombing practice. 
I remember When the Army left, Dad, Bob and I would gather up
the empty brass shells and sell them to the junk man.
Some of the shells still contained powder and caps
which Dad would clean out.

I remember Uncle Fred stopping at our house in Raymondville
and letting me ride in his 'dump truck' when he hauled
stone for a road job from Barretts Quarry.

 These memories may not win a Pulitzer Prize -
but may bring 
enjoyment to the surviving people of this time period.

                If someone  needs to dispute my writings, -- Forget it !!  

produce evidence to the contrary.

Thanks for reading.

Wayne A. Morgan