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Cooking Southern Style
By: Sandy Williams Driver
A stranger could taste my down-home cooking and probably guess I was raised in the Deep South, Alabama to be exact. As a child, I stood on a stool and watched my mother fry everything from chicken and pork chops to okra and potatoes. She rolled out the biscuits by hand and always cooked cornbread in an iron skillet.
Fetching Milk for Dinner
The girl in this photograph carrying milk is Marion Leedom.
She was born in Elizabethtown, PA, 1903 and died 1981 in South Bend, IN
Mulberries and Root Beer
From Harvey Wike of Texas
Bertha Otelia Kunth Lavender about 1902
The Lavender History as Heard and Seen
by Charles E. Blakeslee
11/24/97
The Place Where I Feel Most At Home And What Makes It A Special Place For Me
by Amy Finkle
The place I feel most at home in is at my grandmothers house. I know it sounds silly that I wouldn’t pick my own house, but at my grandparents we do such fun things. First off, they live on a farm and have 26 acres of open forest and so we go walking in the woods. In the woods there is a pond and a cabin next to it that my pop built. In the summer we sleep over there and go fishing.
By Linda Clark
This is how I became a member of the Wike-Clark family.
By Heather Stergos
As a child nothing spoke of the magic of Christmas like my grandparents house. I can still clearly remember the thrill of pulling up the snowy drive, for it seems like it was always snowy when we arrived at the big house for the holidays. My grandparents lived in a large three-story house built in 1908. At any point during the year it was a magical place for a child, filled with all sorts of treasures, but it seemed especially so during the Christmas season.
By Helen V Lundt
(Myra and Andrew Riley in front of the Christmas tree at the Seven Stars residence)
By Polly Mazariegos
All of my childhood Christmas memories are full of fun and food, except on the occasion when I had such a bad case of bronchitis and had such a sore throat I did not want to come down for Christmas morning.
Bernita & Marion Hoffman
By Marion C. Hoffman
By Harvey Wike
When we moved onto our farm outside Fredericksburg, PA, the road past our house was an old dirt road. I guess at times we could be called Hucksters, as we would load up our produce from the farm, take it to the town of Lebanon, PA, in a Dodge panel truck and sell the produce door to door.