April 26, 1006

My Daddy’s only sister, Lillian Goin McKinney, was intellectual, attentive, and always had time to sit down with me when I was a youngster growing up. She was always willing to sit down and share family history, stories about the hard times. She was a collector of small tidbits of family history that were handed down to her from the five previous generations. She was always saving small tidbits about events during her life.

We all knew her by "Aunt Sis." Her brothers and mother and father called her "Sis" short for sister and as the nephews nieces came along we picked it up and called her "Aunt Sis."

She was a talented musician. She graduated with a B.S. at the same time as her husband, while her daughter received her eighth grade diploma and Bub her son received his high school diploma all at the time.

Her daughter, Billie, has been like a sister to me. She is the lone survivor of that family.

Aunt Sis was born in Aubrey on Black Jack Road on June 1, 1906. The attic at Billie’s house is chunked full as was Aunt Sis’s attic when she suddenly died in 1970.

Aunt Sis was still a teacher at age 70. I find myself speaking joyfully of her unique spirit in my present times of need, as the spirit of this talented lady still lives in my mind.

I recently shared with you the story written by Aunt Sis about the "Stealing of Apples on the Black Jack Hill," and her story about "Her Christian Duty."

Today, I will share with you another story she wrote some 70 years ago.

Between Robstown and Corpus Christi the land is as flat as Aunt Nancy’s fallen arches. The evening sun hangs low and lingers long over the heavy, damp air in the evenness of the countryside.

As I traveled this Highway 44 in 1935 my old Model A Ford carried me into a sunset that shaded from the heavens in pink and settled on each side of the road in a regal, royal orchid sheen into the purple cabbage fields which stretched for miles on either side.

The little white seacoast houses nestled among this pleasant glow and borrowed a purple radiance from the sunset.

The huge yellow ball of the sun then slowly glided in one long sweep over the cabbage tops, then gently and beautifully turned into very deep purple before I saw it set into the middle of the cabbages at the end of the highway.

It left not a cloud in the sky, but a smoothly blended combination of pinks, lilacs. orchids, heliotropes, crimson and purple settling as a velvet mantle over the earth.

This was a heart stopping moment of sheerest beauty for me. It has clung in my mind ever since.

From my hotel in Corpus Christi that same night, I saw the moon rise over the waters of the Gulf.

At first the waters appeared to be turning white, then there was a shading of yellow, always with the blue black nightness of the bay as a background for this picture. Finally one tiny stream of pure gold spread itself upon the rippling scene. This little stream grew wider and bolder in color and reached from the endless movement of water right up to my feet at the hotel pier.

Then it became a broad highway on the uncertain surface.

The motion of the water beckoned and dared me to dance on its uncertain surface. Then the wide lane grew lime colored and fashioned itself into a semi-circle at the end of the bay where it wavered and skipped. This wobbly arc became a ball which struggled to lift its great weight from the clinging watery depths.

At last it made its jump to freedom, bounced clear of the night seas and

suspended itself in a victorious, bantering journey above the water line, returning only once to kiss the ocean’s cheek in a capricious flirtation.

The moon was "up’ and there was her reflection in the water; but like the explorers of long ago, I knew that when night time came, she would hunt for her soft, billowy bed to sink into.

Oh, these horrible report cards! They remind me of Uncle Joe when he said

once that he wouldn’t mind going to school so much if he didn’t have to study!

I wouldn’t mind my job so much if I didn’t have to work!

By Lillian Goin McKinney

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