Picture is of E.D. and his 2nd wife, Dallas Arnold.
OBIT:
Nov. 26, 1956
E.D. Dethrow Dies
Monday Morning
E. D. Dethrow, well known farmer of the Piney community, died in the early morning hours Monday at his home, after becoming ill quite suddenly.
As we get the report, he had awakened being quite sick and went to the home of his son, Lee Dethrow, thinking he would get him to take him to the doctor. Lee, realizing that his father was too ill to travel, took him back home and called a doctor, but he died within a short time after being put to bed. He was 82 years old.
Funeral services were held at Cotton Creek Church Wednesday afternoon, with Rev. Billie Rogers and Rev. Cecil Cypret officiating. Burial was in the Cotton Creek Cemetery.
From Daughter, Grace:
"I always thought my Papa was a god. I was always with him in the fields, on trips, and everywhere, and I could cuss as good as he could - and at him sometimes, too. And he'd just throw his hat to the ground and say, "You are a hell cat!" He never, never hit me. (Grace once told about the time she broke her nose while working on the farm. Papa grabbed a stick and wrapped his handkerchief around it and rammed it up her nose to stop the bleeding and set the break! With her "a yellin and a screamin". He could take care of anything!)
Papa started his 80 acre farm when I was about three. He had two horses, two cows, about a dozen chickens and two or three pigs. He had already built our little house. He planted the orchard and built his outbuildings. Eventually he acquired over 600 acres, buying adjacent farms. He would rent them out to sharecroppers.
One time a fellow named Thompson rented one of his houses and was to farm and give Papa a row of corn for every three that he harvested. He was lazy and would not work, so Papa gave him the heave-ho after a couple of years. But he would not go, so Papa had him evicted by Court order. The farm he had rented had a wonderful peach and apple orchard on it, and before he left, old Thompson salted it down and completely destroyed the orchard. Then word got out that Thompson was hiding in the bushes and out to kill Dave Dethrow. So Papa started carrying a gun. Uncle Ray was a Deputy Sheriff and got into the act, found Thompson and told him he'd find a reason to put him in jail if he ever saw him around those parts. That was the end of Thompson.
One of the things that was most peculiar was that 'way back in the early days, the settlers and farmers they never built an outhouse...and people would just run outside the back of the house or behind a bush or wherever pleased them, taking along a corncob to clean their butts...Grace was grown before Papa built a magnificent structure with two sittin' holes in it - an outhouse! There was room on the sittin' bench for the old Sears catalog, which was a darnsite better than a corncob. One problem was chickens. You had to be careful or they'd peck at your bottom.
Then there were the geese. People would raise geese primarily to make feather beds, because it got mighty cold in the winter time. After you had all the feather beds you wanted, usually the geese were eaten or sold. They weren't good for eggs and weren't a favorite food.
Grace knew that one old gander really hated her. He used to hide under the front porch (it was completely open) and would rush out and bite her legs and scare her. She was about ten years old then. Well, she waited and caught him one day and kicked him hard, then got a rock and pounded his damn head over and over, until Papa yelled at her to stop before she killed him. She did. And the gander never bothered her again.
One wild binge was the 4th of July. Papa and Mamma always seemed to like to have a lemonade stand at these picnics. He made money on them - one lemon to a gallon of water. Just joking, but almost. He had the stand at Jobe. I went with him to set up the stand for the next day, thinking I'd be right there to help sell ice cream and lemonade. But, no, he said next morning that Mamma was going with him early in the morning. They gathered at 8:00 a.m. and stayed 'til dark, just mulling around, chewing rag, and lying to each other. So he said they would come get us kids at noon. Noon came and no one came. I was so mad, I told Lee, "I'm going on my horse." He was to stay and look after the kids.
I was going to that picnic on Old Pearl, my horse. I ran all over that meadow for 30 minutes or more and she would not let me catch her. She'd just hike her head high and her tail over her back and looked like she would just laugh a me., and she would just fly over that meadow. I came back to the house hot, mad, and tired, my hair let's-don't-talk-about-it! Anyway, Old Tob was in the lot, an old work mule, so gentle. And, Honey, I saddled him up, put on my flowered dress, and a big wide straw hat with roses around the crown. What a sight I must have been! I was 14. On the way, old Tob would not trot, he just poked along. And he'd run to the side of the road, and I was getting my hat and hair a mess (the trees would hang low over the old country roads). I heard sounds of horses coming, and it was Balcom Clark and another boy. Balcom was Mamma's third cousin. They just laughed at me. They lived at Biltmore district. Anyway, he said, "Get off that mule, Grace, and get on my horse. And for god's sake, fix your clothes and hair and hat!" We got to the picnic but I did not have a good time. I was so mad at my folks for lying to me, and I sure did let them know it, too. They had got so busy they could not leave. I never believed they ever meant to come after us. I didn't do much good work for a long time, and I let Papa know it, too. He tried to make it up to me by letting me go to town and buy a new dress for Mamma to make. I not only got the material, but ribbon for my hair and lace for my dress, and a lot of other stuff. He says when he went too pay for it, "How come cloth costs so much?" I got even.
(Old Tob and Old Fox were a team of mules that Papa always used, but he sold them to the Army during World War I when the USA issued a plea for teams of mules. Grace says they cried for those old mules just as if they were family members. No doubt they were excellent soldiers! )"
OBIT:
Nov. 26, 1956
E.D. Dethrow Dies
Monday Morning
E. D. Dethrow, well known farmer of the Piney community, died in the early morning hours Monday at his home, after becoming ill quite suddenly.
As we get the report, he had awakened being quite sick and went to the home of his son, Lee Dethrow, thinking he would get him to take him to the doctor. Lee, realizing that his father was too ill to travel, took him back home and called a doctor, but he died within a short time after being put to bed. He was 82 years old.
Funeral services were held at Cotton Creek Church Wednesday afternoon, with Rev. Billie Rogers and Rev. Cecil Cypret officiating. Burial was in the Cotton Creek Cemetery.
From Daughter, Grace:
"I always thought my Papa was a god. I was always with him in the fields, on trips, and everywhere, and I could cuss as good as he could - and at him sometimes, too. And he'd just throw his hat to the ground and say, "You are a hell cat!" He never, never hit me. (Grace once told about the time she broke her nose while working on the farm. Papa grabbed a stick and wrapped his handkerchief around it and rammed it up her nose to stop the bleeding and set the break! With her "a yellin and a screamin". He could take care of anything!)
Papa started his 80 acre farm when I was about three. He had two horses, two cows, about a dozen chickens and two or three pigs. He had already built our little house. He planted the orchard and built his outbuildings. Eventually he acquired over 600 acres, buying adjacent farms. He would rent them out to sharecroppers.
One time a fellow named Thompson rented one of his houses and was to farm and give Papa a row of corn for every three that he harvested. He was lazy and would not work, so Papa gave him the heave-ho after a couple of years. But he would not go, so Papa had him evicted by Court order. The farm he had rented had a wonderful peach and apple orchard on it, and before he left, old Thompson salted it down and completely destroyed the orchard. Then word got out that Thompson was hiding in the bushes and out to kill Dave Dethrow. So Papa started carrying a gun. Uncle Ray was a Deputy Sheriff and got into the act, found Thompson and told him he'd find a reason to put him in jail if he ever saw him around those parts. That was the end of Thompson.
One of the things that was most peculiar was that 'way back in the early days, the settlers and farmers they never built an outhouse...and people would just run outside the back of the house or behind a bush or wherever pleased them, taking along a corncob to clean their butts...Grace was grown before Papa built a magnificent structure with two sittin' holes in it - an outhouse! There was room on the sittin' bench for the old Sears catalog, which was a darnsite better than a corncob. One problem was chickens. You had to be careful or they'd peck at your bottom.
Then there were the geese. People would raise geese primarily to make feather beds, because it got mighty cold in the winter time. After you had all the feather beds you wanted, usually the geese were eaten or sold. They weren't good for eggs and weren't a favorite food.
Grace knew that one old gander really hated her. He used to hide under the front porch (it was completely open) and would rush out and bite her legs and scare her. She was about ten years old then. Well, she waited and caught him one day and kicked him hard, then got a rock and pounded his damn head over and over, until Papa yelled at her to stop before she killed him. She did. And the gander never bothered her again.
One wild binge was the 4th of July. Papa and Mamma always seemed to like to have a lemonade stand at these picnics. He made money on them - one lemon to a gallon of water. Just joking, but almost. He had the stand at Jobe. I went with him to set up the stand for the next day, thinking I'd be right there to help sell ice cream and lemonade. But, no, he said next morning that Mamma was going with him early in the morning. They gathered at 8:00 a.m. and stayed 'til dark, just mulling around, chewing rag, and lying to each other. So he said they would come get us kids at noon. Noon came and no one came. I was so mad, I told Lee, "I'm going on my horse." He was to stay and look after the kids.
I was going to that picnic on Old Pearl, my horse. I ran all over that meadow for 30 minutes or more and she would not let me catch her. She'd just hike her head high and her tail over her back and looked like she would just laugh a me., and she would just fly over that meadow. I came back to the house hot, mad, and tired, my hair let's-don't-talk-about-it! Anyway, Old Tob was in the lot, an old work mule, so gentle. And, Honey, I saddled him up, put on my flowered dress, and a big wide straw hat with roses around the crown. What a sight I must have been! I was 14. On the way, old Tob would not trot, he just poked along. And he'd run to the side of the road, and I was getting my hat and hair a mess (the trees would hang low over the old country roads). I heard sounds of horses coming, and it was Balcom Clark and another boy. Balcom was Mamma's third cousin. They just laughed at me. They lived at Biltmore district. Anyway, he said, "Get off that mule, Grace, and get on my horse. And for god's sake, fix your clothes and hair and hat!" We got to the picnic but I did not have a good time. I was so mad at my folks for lying to me, and I sure did let them know it, too. They had got so busy they could not leave. I never believed they ever meant to come after us. I didn't do much good work for a long time, and I let Papa know it, too. He tried to make it up to me by letting me go to town and buy a new dress for Mamma to make. I not only got the material, but ribbon for my hair and lace for my dress, and a lot of other stuff. He says when he went too pay for it, "How come cloth costs so much?" I got even.
(Old Tob and Old Fox were a team of mules that Papa always used, but he sold them to the Army during World War I when the USA issued a plea for teams of mules. Grace says they cried for those old mules just as if they were family members. No doubt they were excellent soldiers! )"
Picture is of E.D. and his 2nd wife, Dallas Arnold.
OBIT:
Nov. 26, 1956
E.D. Dethrow Dies
Monday Morning
E. D. Dethrow, well known farmer of the Piney community, died in the early morning hours Monday at his home, after becoming ill quite suddenly.
As we get the report, he had awakened being quite sick and went to the home of his son, Lee Dethrow, thinking he would get him to take him to the doctor. Lee, realizing that his father was too ill to travel, took him back home and called a doctor, but he died within a short time after being put to bed. He was 82 years old.
Funeral services were held at Cotton Creek Church Wednesday afternoon, with Rev. Billie Rogers and Rev. Cecil Cypret officiating. Burial was in the Cotton Creek Cemetery.
From Daughter, Grace:
"I always thought my Papa was a god. I was always with him in the fields, on trips, and everywhere, and I could cuss as good as he could - and at him sometimes, too. And he'd just throw his hat to the ground and say, "You are a hell cat!" He never, never hit me. (Grace once told about the time she broke her nose while working on the farm. Papa grabbed a stick and wrapped his handkerchief around it and rammed it up her nose to stop the bleeding and set the break! With her "a yellin and a screamin". He could take care of anything!)
Papa started his 80 acre farm when I was about three. He had two horses, two cows, about a dozen chickens and two or three pigs. He had already built our little house. He planted the orchard and built his outbuildings. Eventually he acquired over 600 acres, buying adjacent farms. He would rent them out to sharecroppers.
One time a fellow named Thompson rented one of his houses and was to farm and give Papa a row of corn for every three that he harvested. He was lazy and would not work, so Papa gave him the heave-ho after a couple of years. But he would not go, so Papa had him evicted by Court order. The farm he had rented had a wonderful peach and apple orchard on it, and before he left, old Thompson salted it down and completely destroyed the orchard. Then word got out that Thompson was hiding in the bushes and out to kill Dave Dethrow. So Papa started carrying a gun. Uncle Ray was a Deputy Sheriff and got into the act, found Thompson and told him he'd find a reason to put him in jail if he ever saw him around those parts. That was the end of Thompson.
One of the things that was most peculiar was that 'way back in the early days, the settlers and farmers they never built an outhouse...and people would just run outside the back of the house or behind a bush or wherever pleased them, taking along a corncob to clean their butts...Grace was grown before Papa built a magnificent structure with two sittin' holes in it - an outhouse! There was room on the sittin' bench for the old Sears catalog, which was a darnsite better than a corncob. One problem was chickens. You had to be careful or they'd peck at your bottom.
Then there were the geese. People would raise geese primarily to make feather beds, because it got mighty cold in the winter time. After you had all the feather beds you wanted, usually the geese were eaten or sold. They weren't good for eggs and weren't a favorite food.
Grace knew that one old gander really hated her. He used to hide under the front porch (it was completely open) and would rush out and bite her legs and scare her. She was about ten years old then. Well, she waited and caught him one day and kicked him hard, then got a rock and pounded his damn head over and over, until Papa yelled at her to stop before she killed him. She did. And the gander never bothered her again.
One wild binge was the 4th of July. Papa and Mamma always seemed to like to have a lemonade stand at these picnics. He made money on them - one lemon to a gallon of water. Just joking, but almost. He had the stand at Jobe. I went with him to set up the stand for the next day, thinking I'd be right there to help sell ice cream and lemonade. But, no, he said next morning that Mamma was going with him early in the morning. They gathered at 8:00 a.m. and stayed 'til dark, just mulling around, chewing rag, and lying to each other. So he said they would come get us kids at noon. Noon came and no one came. I was so mad, I told Lee, "I'm going on my horse." He was to stay and look after the kids.
I was going to that picnic on Old Pearl, my horse. I ran all over that meadow for 30 minutes or more and she would not let me catch her. She'd just hike her head high and her tail over her back and looked like she would just laugh a me., and she would just fly over that meadow. I came back to the house hot, mad, and tired, my hair let's-don't-talk-about-it! Anyway, Old Tob was in the lot, an old work mule, so gentle. And, Honey, I saddled him up, put on my flowered dress, and a big wide straw hat with roses around the crown. What a sight I must have been! I was 14. On the way, old Tob would not trot, he just poked along. And he'd run to the side of the road, and I was getting my hat and hair a mess (the trees would hang low over the old country roads). I heard sounds of horses coming, and it was Balcom Clark and another boy. Balcom was Mamma's third cousin. They just laughed at me. They lived at Biltmore district. Anyway, he said, "Get off that mule, Grace, and get on my horse. And for god's sake, fix your clothes and hair and hat!" We got to the picnic but I did not have a good time. I was so mad at my folks for lying to me, and I sure did let them know it, too. They had got so busy they could not leave. I never believed they ever meant to come after us. I didn't do much good work for a long time, and I let Papa know it, too. He tried to make it up to me by letting me go to town and buy a new dress for Mamma to make. I not only got the material, but ribbon for my hair and lace for my dress, and a lot of other stuff. He says when he went too pay for it, "How come cloth costs so much?" I got even.
(Old Tob and Old Fox were a team of mules that Papa always used, but he sold them to the Army during World War I when the USA issued a plea for teams of mules. Grace says they cried for those old mules just as if they were family members. No doubt they were excellent soldiers! )"
OBIT:
Nov. 26, 1956
E.D. Dethrow Dies
Monday Morning
E. D. Dethrow, well known farmer of the Piney community, died in the early morning hours Monday at his home, after becoming ill quite suddenly.
As we get the report, he had awakened being quite sick and went to the home of his son, Lee Dethrow, thinking he would get him to take him to the doctor. Lee, realizing that his father was too ill to travel, took him back home and called a doctor, but he died within a short time after being put to bed. He was 82 years old.
Funeral services were held at Cotton Creek Church Wednesday afternoon, with Rev. Billie Rogers and Rev. Cecil Cypret officiating. Burial was in the Cotton Creek Cemetery.
From Daughter, Grace:
"I always thought my Papa was a god. I was always with him in the fields, on trips, and everywhere, and I could cuss as good as he could - and at him sometimes, too. And he'd just throw his hat to the ground and say, "You are a hell cat!" He never, never hit me. (Grace once told about the time she broke her nose while working on the farm. Papa grabbed a stick and wrapped his handkerchief around it and rammed it up her nose to stop the bleeding and set the break! With her "a yellin and a screamin". He could take care of anything!)
Papa started his 80 acre farm when I was about three. He had two horses, two cows, about a dozen chickens and two or three pigs. He had already built our little house. He planted the orchard and built his outbuildings. Eventually he acquired over 600 acres, buying adjacent farms. He would rent them out to sharecroppers.
One time a fellow named Thompson rented one of his houses and was to farm and give Papa a row of corn for every three that he harvested. He was lazy and would not work, so Papa gave him the heave-ho after a couple of years. But he would not go, so Papa had him evicted by Court order. The farm he had rented had a wonderful peach and apple orchard on it, and before he left, old Thompson salted it down and completely destroyed the orchard. Then word got out that Thompson was hiding in the bushes and out to kill Dave Dethrow. So Papa started carrying a gun. Uncle Ray was a Deputy Sheriff and got into the act, found Thompson and told him he'd find a reason to put him in jail if he ever saw him around those parts. That was the end of Thompson.
One of the things that was most peculiar was that 'way back in the early days, the settlers and farmers they never built an outhouse...and people would just run outside the back of the house or behind a bush or wherever pleased them, taking along a corncob to clean their butts...Grace was grown before Papa built a magnificent structure with two sittin' holes in it - an outhouse! There was room on the sittin' bench for the old Sears catalog, which was a darnsite better than a corncob. One problem was chickens. You had to be careful or they'd peck at your bottom.
Then there were the geese. People would raise geese primarily to make feather beds, because it got mighty cold in the winter time. After you had all the feather beds you wanted, usually the geese were eaten or sold. They weren't good for eggs and weren't a favorite food.
Grace knew that one old gander really hated her. He used to hide under the front porch (it was completely open) and would rush out and bite her legs and scare her. She was about ten years old then. Well, she waited and caught him one day and kicked him hard, then got a rock and pounded his damn head over and over, until Papa yelled at her to stop before she killed him. She did. And the gander never bothered her again.
One wild binge was the 4th of July. Papa and Mamma always seemed to like to have a lemonade stand at these picnics. He made money on them - one lemon to a gallon of water. Just joking, but almost. He had the stand at Jobe. I went with him to set up the stand for the next day, thinking I'd be right there to help sell ice cream and lemonade. But, no, he said next morning that Mamma was going with him early in the morning. They gathered at 8:00 a.m. and stayed 'til dark, just mulling around, chewing rag, and lying to each other. So he said they would come get us kids at noon. Noon came and no one came. I was so mad, I told Lee, "I'm going on my horse." He was to stay and look after the kids.
I was going to that picnic on Old Pearl, my horse. I ran all over that meadow for 30 minutes or more and she would not let me catch her. She'd just hike her head high and her tail over her back and looked like she would just laugh a me., and she would just fly over that meadow. I came back to the house hot, mad, and tired, my hair let's-don't-talk-about-it! Anyway, Old Tob was in the lot, an old work mule, so gentle. And, Honey, I saddled him up, put on my flowered dress, and a big wide straw hat with roses around the crown. What a sight I must have been! I was 14. On the way, old Tob would not trot, he just poked along. And he'd run to the side of the road, and I was getting my hat and hair a mess (the trees would hang low over the old country roads). I heard sounds of horses coming, and it was Balcom Clark and another boy. Balcom was Mamma's third cousin. They just laughed at me. They lived at Biltmore district. Anyway, he said, "Get off that mule, Grace, and get on my horse. And for god's sake, fix your clothes and hair and hat!" We got to the picnic but I did not have a good time. I was so mad at my folks for lying to me, and I sure did let them know it, too. They had got so busy they could not leave. I never believed they ever meant to come after us. I didn't do much good work for a long time, and I let Papa know it, too. He tried to make it up to me by letting me go to town and buy a new dress for Mamma to make. I not only got the material, but ribbon for my hair and lace for my dress, and a lot of other stuff. He says when he went too pay for it, "How come cloth costs so much?" I got even.
(Old Tob and Old Fox were a team of mules that Papa always used, but he sold them to the Army during World War I when the USA issued a plea for teams of mules. Grace says they cried for those old mules just as if they were family members. No doubt they were excellent soldiers! )"
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