September 11, 2003

As I stepped off Bouncers’ back porch into the first cool whiff of fall weather arriving in North Texas, the wonderful smells carried on the crisp morning air stopped me. I looked up at the pecan trees heavy with nuts, over at the fat green peppers shining with faint dew in the garden and laughed at the 164 sparrows (by Bouncers’ count) who live in the Catalpa tree.

I stood still in delight and in confusion till I realized I was also remembering fragrances from a long ago garden and barnyard that had been gone for many years.

The fence separating the house from the barnyard had been gone for two generations, but the odor of the honeysuckle that draped over its’ length was a happy residuum in my olfactory memory.

And the vines by the gate with the round orange fruit – Mama Goin called them her pomegranates.

The evening before, Bouncer, Jackie, Oner and I sat on the back porch enjoying the sunset when Bouncer mentioned the trouble he had trying to get grass to grow in the yard.

I laughed and told him I wasn’t surprised. I recalled how assiduously Mama and Dad Goin both kept grass out of the yard around the house.

The bare dirt was swept in patterns along walkways between lush beds of flowers. The white picket fence on the south-east front corner of the property was the boundary for grass and bluebonnets. This was also where cars were parked.

Horse drawn buggies came around to the rear to the barnyard where old Snip lived. She was a wonderfully friendly old white horse who was as hospitable as her owners.

Dad Goin bought the one acre lot with house on the corner of Hill and Spring Street when he moved his family into Aubrey from Blackjack.

The house was originally built for the Caddell family in 1897. The purchase was made when Uncle Jim returned from WW1 and assisted his parents with the necessary funds. Jim Goin, like his father, was always a warm hearted generous man.

Dad and Mama Goin lived there until Dads’ death in 1947. He and Mama Goin provided vegetables and canned goods from their large garden to many less fortunate neighbors during the depression. I recall going with Dad to deliver food during this time. No one had much in the way of material possessions in the thirties, but we always had plenty to eat, and shared it. Mama Goins’ large dining room table customarily had three seatings for Sunday dinner. The oldest people ate first, then the middle group, then the cousins. Ten of us were first cousins and we had (and still have) an ample supply of second and third cousins.

Martha Joe was born in that house. All of us have wonderful memories of our childhood connected to this place.

After Dads’ death, Mama Goin was not well and lived with Uncle Jim and Aunt Reina while the house was rented out. It was not cared for and was in sad shape when Bouncer purchased it for his growing family.

To say it was a labor of love for Bouncer to restore the place was an understatement. It was more like the labors of Hercules.

It had an outhouse that Dad Goin kept extremely clean. The nightsoil, as it was called, he buried on a rotating basis in the peach orchard. The only toilet paper was old Sears catalogues, with the underwear ads a predictable hit among us cousins.

There were two wells on the place – one in the barnyard and one on the large L shaped screened back porch. Both wells had buckets and pulleys to get the water. There was no pump on the property. I loved the taste of the fresh cool well water and was very happy when I grew tall enough to be allowed to draw the bucket up myself.

Nice memories, but Bouncer had to clean up years of neglect, install a sewer system, bathrooms, put running water in the house, replace the old wood stove and install a whole new electric system.

He lowered the high ceilings and put additional bedrooms and a bath upstairs and doubled the floor space downstairs, while adding air conditioning.

He and Jackie then reared his family of five, who have children who have happy memories of their Grandads’ place. To these children, the swimming pool has always been where it is. To us old cousins, it is where the barn used to be.

One constant has been the flowers. The Chinaberry tree still stands where it always did. Dad Goins’ red roses still bloom and Bouncer has oodles of day lilies and tulips that Mama Goin bordered her grassless walkways with.

There was a sound reason for no grass in the yard back then. One main one was chiggers. This was long before effective insecticides and no grass meant no chiggers.

Barefooted children were another reason. It was easy to see anything on the ground. So the house yard had bare ground and flowers. Except in the L formed by the back porch. Dad Goin fixed a wash basin on the back porch with a drain that ran directly into the strawberry patch just outside in the L. So each time we washed up, we watered the strawberries.

The grass free environment extended under the house, also. Clean sand was spread here. This was where potatoes and onions were stored. The potatoes and onions were carefully spaced so they did not touch. They stayed dry and cool this way.

Mary Ann, Bouncer and I loved to crawl under the house to get the vegetables for a meal. We always tried to capture doodle bugs, but weren’t good at it.

There was no icebox then and milk and butter were kept in an inset in the well. At large family gatherings someone always went to the ice house and got ice for the iced tea and home made ice cream.

The seasons canned goods were stored in the storm cellar that is still just in front of Bouncers’ back porch.

Chickens provided eggs and fried chicken. I wasn’t fond of wringing their necks and cleaning them and tried hard to avoid this chore. It’s much nicer now when they come wrapped in plastic and already cut up. Some things about the good old days can stay there.

Baked goods were stored in the safe. This was a cabinet with punched tin panels that allowed air to circulate, but kept out flies.

Food not eaten was given to the hogs.

I can personally testify that it is possible to have many wonderful meals without a freezer, without a refrigerator, or even an ice box.

But it also took many people a lot of hours of work to achieve this.

The old house had a pantry with a flour and cornmeal bin where Mama Goin made wonderful biscuits, cornbread and her famous sugar cookies. She had a floured counter always prepared.

The cookies were in a brown cookie jar that was always a first stop for grandchildren. You got your fat sugary cookie and took it straight outside. The cookie jar was never empty.

Bouncer has retained the original front door, but closed off the side door that was a frequent entry point years ago. Extensive remodling of the kitchen and additions to the back of the house led to a new back door, but the porch is in the same spot. Thanks to Sam, however, the old wooden porch has been replaced by a brick one that should last for awhile.

Bouncer has preserved the original fireplace in its’ same spot in the living room where it still gives a warm winter welcome.

After a recent bad fire in the kitchen, Bouncer has been giving the old place another facelift. L.Z. Harmons’ grandson made the kitchen cabinets, keeping repairs in the family.

New floors, sheetrock in place of the old wallpaper and much remodling is making the old house look lovely.

I’ve always been happy that Bouncer and Jackie chose to make their home in Aubrey so I could come back for visits. It has always made me proud that Dad and Mama Goins home is still in the family, still the center for a family and continues to be cared for.

The recent renovations, done with such care, are giving the house new life.

Buddy restored a part of the original ceiling in the kitchen that was badly damaged by the fire. It is inset into the new ceiling in the center with molding around it and looks very attractive.

Carlos is finishing up the hot tub, Noel and Sam lend their labors and the place is looking better than ever.

But when I stand still, I catch a fragrance of buttermilk biscuits cooked on a wood stove, or see a cheeky rooster strutting before the hens, or hear a hymn played on the organ, faintly, from the front room.

It gives me joy to know that some day when they are in their seventies, Bouncers’ grandchildren will remember other smells, other sounds, all of them recalling the priceless gift of grandparents – a loving welcome.

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