In this blog I want to take a journey back to
Cartersville, Georgia, my mother's hometown.
I want to tell a little about her parents- my grandparents-
and share bits and pieces of what Mama told me about
her childhood years.
Mama, Elizabeth Anne Black, was born on May 6, 1920.
Her mother was Kate Florene Gaines Black, born August
14, 1888 (my and Judy's anniversary).
Her father was Homer Augustus Black, born in 1882. At
age 41 he died of pneumonia, leaving his wife with five
children, ages 13, 10, 3, 2, and 1. That's right.
Here is my grandfather that I never knew, and who
my mother, the 3 year-old, never remembered.
According to census records, he was a clerk in a
dry goods store in 1910 and 1920. But for some
period in between, his 1917 draft registration says
he was a mining foreman at the Thompson-Wienman
mines. It was bought by DuPont in 1918, which may
have resulted in his change of jobs. I know little of
his personal life, but much of the Black family history.
My grandmother found a way to raise those
children for the next dozen years or so, including
the heart of the Great Depression. Then she married
George Winchester Gaddis, whose wife and child had
also died during some of the epidemics of those days.
He was the grandfather that I and my siblings Buddy
and Caryn would know and love. He was the sheriff of
Bartow County, a man loved and respected by the community
and his new family.
This picture was apparently taken before Caryn was born,
so around 1957, when I was four and Buddy (Ellis) was eight.
I'll share more about the setting later on.
Below are Mama with her mother and siblings,
probably in the late 1950's, because it was taken at
my grandparents' country house.
Back row, L to R: Mama, Elsie (Melton), Jeannette (Manning)
Front row, L to R: Homer (Jr.), Mama (Black) Gaddis,
Marjorie/Margie (Floyd)
This picture is even earlier and Elsie is missing.
This seems to be inside the country home.
My grandparents and step-grandfather are all buried
at beautiful Oak Hill Cemetery in Cartersville. Many
other family members in the Black and Gaines lines
are buried here, as well.
Mama Gaddis was blessed to have two loving, caring men
who helped her have the wonderful life and family she had.
In 2006, three years before Mama's death, our family
took her to Cartersville, where she gave us some history
that I will always cherish. As a single parent, her mother
used her wisdom and skills to provide for her children,
renting houses so she could take in boarders, and working
from home as a master seamstress.
As Mama took us on a tour of the various houses that
became her homes, I will take you on a similar tour.
I'm going to use some literary license to paraphrase what
Mama told me and put my notes in narrative form.
Let's go!
Mama: "This house is on the corner of West Avenue. It's
white now, but it used to be brown. I was about 7, I think.
It had a dirt yard then, and we played hopscotch. Homer
(age 5) had a white rabbit. Aunt Bessie (Black) lived with us."
Mama: "This big two story house is on Fite Street. I'm not
sure of my age then, but I was older than 7. We had boarders.
One was a student named Davis Upshaw. A girl named
Katherine Hall was from Kingston. She used to dance at
the Fox Theater in Atlanta. She was a real beauty! We used
to walk to Poindexter's on West Street. The neighborhood
boys would put on shows for pennies or pins. We had a fig
tree beside the house."
Mama: "This house is on Market Street, but now
they have renamed it Cherokee Avenue. We played croquet.
It was close to school, so we could walk. I was older than
seven. A girl named Connie stayed there with us. She was
from Euharlie or Stilesboro and worked at the dry goods store.
Our house was downhill from Aunt Addie and Grandma Gaines."
This house and many others in the old downtown area
have been designated as historic homes.
Below is the beautiful house that Mama identified
as the home of her Aunt Addie and Grandma Gaines.
Mama: "Grandma Gaines played with us a lot. The day
she died she played Russian Bank (a popular card game)
at the jail. (This may have been when Mama Gaddis and
Sheriff Papa Gaddis were courting or just after marriage.)
She said, 'I'm tired of playing,' and went home to lie down.
She wore her hair in a knot with a 'rat' in it.
The next two pictures show this lovely house as it is today.
Mama: "This house is at 123 Leak Street. I was older
than six when we moved away from here. From when
I was 6 to 13 I lived in six houses. (These are not in
order, but this is the order we visited the locations).
We skated a lot and children would come on the porch
for games. We lived here when Mama Gaddis worked
for Papa Gaddis before they married.
(We couldn't get any closer to this house with an
overgrown yard.)
Mama: "We lived here when I started school. I walked
with Margie. Once I didn't want to go to school and she
held my head under a water faucet. Years later before
she died she told me she was so sorry she did that."
Mama: "Marjorie was born here (1913). But I don't
think I lived there. The house I was born in was torn down."
Through draft records on Ancestry.com I was able to learn
that Homer and Kate Black lived at 230 Gilmer Street in 1918,
and probably when Mama was born.
Let's moved a couple of decades later. Papa Gaddis
had retired to a country farm after some 35 years as
Bartow County sheriff. How I loved driving into the
farm on this winding lane (unpaved then) each time we
came to visit.
Here's the house I remember so well. Buddy remembers
far more about it than I do, when Papa Gaddis was still
actively farming. There were fields of crops, bountiful
orchards, a spring house, and beautiful woodlands.
We would walk to a grave of a Confederate soldier
deep in those woods. I'm glad the current residents have
taken good care of this dear old house.
The porch was screened in those days. I remember
a hammock and comfortable chairs, where family
members would relax and converse.
Somewhere in these woods is that soldier's grave.
This view of the house is from the road below.
You can envision what a beautiful farm it was.
As Mama and Papa Gaddis grew older, one ice storm
too many forced them into town. They lived peacefully
and comfortably in a small brick house at 8 Alexander
Street until his death in 1964 and hers in 1975.
I'm so thankful for the memories I experienced myself
and for the stories I have learned from my mother and
other sources. I'm eager to learn still more from my
cousins, who may have fascinating stories of their own
that we haven't yet had time to share.
