Author: James Lawler

I was born on an old farm in 1934, you could see daylight coming through the crack in the walls until papa could afford plaster to fill them in. Mama would bath us kids once a week in a big round wash tub.. There were ten of us kids, three girls and seven boys. All my brothers are gone and I’m still here with my three sisters. We had no indoor plumbing or electricity; we got our water from a hole in the ground and the toilet was out back in a little wooden shack. We read by candle light and in the evenings we sat around telling stories; we were always in bed by nine. Papa had a hard life trying to feed all of us but I don’t recall ever going hungry. He stood in the bread line for hours many a times and he worked for the WPA, a welfare program earning a dollar a day. He was also a share cropper, off and on through-out the years. We went through many hard times and looking back, oddly enough, I miss those hard times; we all pulled together as a family I’m eighty two years old now and I love to tell stories; it keeps my mind occupied My darling wife was aflicted with Alzheimers bless her heart and there’s nothing I can do for her, I feel so helpless. I wrote a novel a couple of years back; I also published a book of poetry and one of short stories. I’m worhing on three other books; I just hope I have enough time left to finish them.