| Notes |
- SSN 424-24-2258
- THE LAMMON TREE.
B&D-Hartford Cemetery inscriptions by correspondence from
Jane Linton, P.O. Box 218, Gordon, Alabama, 36343. (1995).
- Among pictures and other clippings lent to me by Alyce and Sara Marlow was the following poem, typewritten
-- Elmer Burns Lammon:
Uncle Joe's gone now
And the South Forty ain't kept.
There's a bunch of pine straw on the roof,
And the yards ain't swept.
There's some bent nails need fixin',
And that old swing kinda needs him too.
Some straw to burn in the sewer,
And his walking stick that's anything but new.
We never went to his house
That he didn't say, "Y'all just consider this home."
We'd sit and talk about the "Cubians",
Then he'd be up and gone;
I guess checking on the south Forty,
Or the new road they built near the house.
Then he'd come back in real easy.
He could be quiet as any mouse.
He had some funny eating habits,
And Mama would get mighty mad
To uncover the leftovers on the table
And see a spoon of pie he'd had.
"My Eyes", he'd say, "ain't what they usta be,
I can hardly see from one line to the other,"
Then held take up the Montgomery Advertiser
And read it from cover to cover.
There's some pecans out there on the ground
That wouldn't be there if he were here, no doubt.
He loved his pecans and their trees.
And too-he loved his oak trees dear.
We were on the front porch talking,
And he pointed out a large oak across the way
He told me how and when he'd planted it
The month- the year -the day.
Uncle Joe stayed on for a long time,
And he seemed always easy-never with force.
Then that day came, like it will,
And he had to go ride his "Old Black Horse".
And that was just about the way Uncle Joe was
And he wouldn't have changed for anything,
He just had his ways-and in that way, no doubt,
He was as happy as any king.
I could go on and on with this
And tons of words could never say,
All there is to tell about Uncle Joe.
So in closing, if you will, let us pray:
Dear God, please take Uncle Joe
And his ways some people don't understand.
Lead him easy, and he'll go with you,
By your gentle, mighty hand.
He'll work as hard as anyone,
No matter what there is to do.
He always seemed to like to work
And we're sure he'll work for you.
He'll be real glad to see his Carol and Beatrice,
And others there that we don't know.
Please take good care of him, dear God
He was our only Uncle Joe.
-- Edward L. Atkinson
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1877 - 1970 (93 years)
