I am asking space in your good paper to relate an incident which will long be held sacred in our memory as one of the highest and happiest points in our life experience. The truthfulness of the old adage, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder," could hardly be more impressively verified than it was in the warm reception and kindly consideration accorded us in our recent visit to the old home and the dear friends and relatives in "Sunny Tennessee."

My wife who was formerly Miss Ludie Copeland, daughter of the late Audrey J. Copeland and great granddaughter of Chesley Copeland, one of the pioneer settlers of West Tennessee, was born and reared near Law, in the old Independence community, and still has several relatives and many of her girlhood friends in that part of the state. I was brought up a poor orphan boy near Juno, in the Poplar Springs community and though possessing as now seems to me, few attractive qualities, I somehow won a place in the esteem of my associates that seemed to draw them to me in a bond of affection "closer than a brother."

So having previously apprised of our coming, those find folks left nothing undone that would contribute to the joy and delight of our welcome back home. We left Little Rock on the morning of May 9th (1939) by way of the Railway, and passing through the "Bluff City," we soon found ourselves gliding swiftly but safely over the splendid Nashville, Chattanooga and St. Louis System, formerly the old Tennessee Midland Railway, and at 3:42 we rolled into that fine old city of Jackson Tennessee.

We were met at the station by our cousin, Mrs. Zora Scott Davidson, and with her we soon were seated in the luxurious taxi of her brother, Mr. Homer Scott, and speeding over the fine highway to the beautiful little city of Bemis, where is located one of the largest and finest industrial establishments ever planted on the soil of the Volunteer State, the Bemis Cotton Mill, where I spent several years as an employee, more than a quarter of a century ago.

During our four day stay in this busy mart of textile production I was accorded the gracious privilege of going through the mill, meeting and chatting with my associates and co-workers of other days; and especially delighted to note the fine progress and improvement being carried forward under the management of Mr. Fred Young, successor to his find father, Mr. Joseph B. Young, to whose memory it may be truly said, this fine industrial enterprise and the most beautiful city of working people, stands as a fitting and enduring monument.

This gracious hospitality of our friends and relatives in Bemis made our stay there most happy and never to be forgotten. Being myself a veteran of the Spanish-American War, I found special congeniality of fellowship with our cousin, Mr. Lovelace Davidson, who modestly bears the distinction of being one of those fine fellows who carried "Old Glory" over the top and broke the famous "Hindenburg Line" in 1918.

Sunday, May 14, being the annual decoration day at Independence cemetery, we move on up there, where in anticipation of our coming a host of our friends were gathered to greet us. For hours we enjoyed the warm handshakes and glad voices we had so long wished again to hear; but the sweetness was mingled with sadness as we looked upon the last resting place of loved ones who once enjoyed the blessings we now have. One grave in particular attracted my attention; it was that of Effie Taylor Walthall, daughter of Aunt Jincy Taylor, by whom I was reared from early childhood. More than 40 years have passed since I last looked into her kindly face; she passed away just when she should have been in the prime of womanhood. The tears came as I stood by her tomb and thought of the loving care she bestowed upon me, and how she taught me the lessons that were treasured in my boyish mind and heart caused me to love the Good and Right Way.

After a sumptuous dinner, many of us gathered in the little church near the cemetery and mingled our voices in the songs of Zion as we did half a century ago. As the shadows crept on we were whisked away to the hospitable home of our fine old neighbors Mr. and Mrs. Don Williams, where for the next five days we enjoyed a fine fellowship and good eats with them and the Taylor families. I recall that the last time I saw my two former school mates, Mrs. Lonie Anderson Williams and Mrs. Ella Gill Tylar, they were teenage girls and are now grandmothers.

Saturday morning the 20th we caught the bus at "Blue Goose" station, near the old Daniel Cogdell place and passing swiftly over magnificent Highway 20, through familiar scenes of former days, we arrived in Lexington, where we were royally received and entertained by wifes, two sisters, Mrs. Exie Allen and Mrs. Dorthy Dyer. It was significant that Mrs. Taylor had never seen her younger sister, Mrs. Dyer, she having been born after our marriage. On Sunday 21st we were joined by wife's only living brother Lucian Copeland, and so we had a happy family reunion. Our brother-in-law Mr. Allen is a splendid type of our World War Veterans and he left nothing undone to show his appreciation for our coming. Together, with him and Mr. Lucian Copeland, I, visited the fine veteran CCC camp, just outside of town.

While in Lexington, I hunted up and enjoyed a friendly chat with two former schoolmates, Mr. W.A. (Berry) Holmes and Mrs. Media (Holmes) Franklin. As I went about through this now beautiful little city, I noted with delightful appreciation the wonderful transformation that has taken place since the first train over the old Tennessee Midland pulled into Lexington, 50 years ago; and I feel that the people of Henderson county, and particularly Lexington, owe a dept of gratitude to the N.C. & St. L. that can only be paid by their continued loyal support and patronage.

Sunday night of the 21st we spent in the pretty country home of brother Lucian Copeland and wife; then two happy nights and days with wife's only living uncle Newton Scott, his wife, two of their sons and their wives. Wednesday the 24th, cousin Hobart Scott carried us to the home of my life-long friend and former close neighbor Uncle Joe Corbett, in the Juno community. There, in the same house in which he was born nearly four score years ago, this fine type of a son of the Old South, is peacefully passing the evening of life, cheered by the innocent voices of grandchildren and tenderly cared for by a dutiful daughter and devoted son-in-law.

Though crippled and suffering from an affliction incident to advancing age, Uncle Joe walked on crutches half a mile with us to see my old home place where nearly 60 years ago I whiled away many happy childhood days with my good old God-Mother, Aunt Jincy Taylor, and her noble daughter, Effie. The The old log walls looked familiar, the old dirt and brick chimney had been replaced with one of brick, but the pretty cedars we had planted in the front yard were all gone. We finished our visit in the old homeland with a delightful day and night stay with two fine old boys, Andy and W.C. (Will) Jackson and their fine wives, near the Blue Goose.

Taking the bus Friday, the 26th we sped on through Jackson to the hustling city of Dyersburg, nestling on the banks of old Forked Deer River. Met at the station by cousin Myrtle Scott Bradford and her genial husband, William G., we were soon in their cozy home near the fine textile mill where they are both employed; there for two nights and a day we basked in a warm fellowship with them and their sister, cousin Gertie Scott Zellner, and her two charming children.

Sunday morning the 28th we all packed into cousin Will's car and sped over the magnificent Jeff Davis highway, to the home of Aunt Frances Haywood. She was looking for us and though an octogenarian and many years a widow; and having lost five of her six children, she is very alert and cheerful, and with her surviving daughter and fine son-in-law made our few hours stay joyous and happy. Bidding all a fond farewell, we returned to Bemis, spent another day and night and with the dear ones there, we took our homeward bound train at 12:45 Monday and at 8 p.m. rolled into Little Rock safe and sober, bearing our hearts a spirit of sweet forget-me-not of the delightful experiences we so happily enjoyed.