When I was a child, the Hemphill place was where Uncle John and Aunt Nadine Shepherd lived, and cousins Susan, Kenny, and Jonny. I remember birthday parties there and at least one campout, with a “tent” arranged over the clothesline.
I remember the metal register in the floor where heat came up from the furnace in the basement, and the steep stairs and open balusters to the small bedrooms upstairs.

Remembering rooms in that house helped me while writing about the Wilson family when Clabe took a job with B.C. Hemphill as a tenant farmer in August 1923. My mother Doris turned 5 that month.
The family’s first Christmas at that place, preschooler Doris received a porcelain doll. Her mother (Leora) told her to take the doll to show relatives who were visiting. Doris carried it across the metal grate in the floor, slipped, and the doll’s brittle head broke.
Another time, Doris awakened one night and came partway down the stairs, amazed that her folks were still busy at night. They were in the living room, turning brown eggs in a large incubator. I could see that preschooler peeking through the balusters.
There were a couple of smaller rooms off the kitchen, one a pantry, the other the “bawl room.” A crying child was sent there where coats and boots were kept on one side, wash tubs on the other.

Upstairs, the girls’ bedroom was the first one on the right, the parents’ straight ahead, and the boys’ room to the front of the house. There was a nook in the hallway where the chamber pot was kept.
Claiborne Junior Wilson, or Junior as they called him, was the first Wilson baby born in Dallas County, in the Hemphill house. 1925. Doris said when she heard her grandmother’s low voice downstairs one morning, she knew they had a new baby.
Aunt Nadine held a bridal shower for me in that house in 1966. She and Uncle John hosted us to supper before Guy left for Vietnam three years later. The house has been torn down, but I still enjoy remembering the good times with the Shepherd family in it, and also my mother’s stories from a century ago.
This is also where Leora talked her husband Clabe into giving her a new “shingle bob” haircut!
It’s funny how childhood memories of certain people’s houses–and certain features of them–stick with you throughout life!
I’ve been living in earlier decades so long, I was surprised when the memories of the bridal shower and dinner before Vietnam showed up!
Such vivid memories of that house! I think having a bawl room is a very good idea for a household with children.
The bawl room comment was from Doris! It’s been fun to weave her little stories with the memoir her mother wrote.
I’ve greatly enjoyed Doris’s little stories as well.
I’m thankful I finally started paying attention and jotting them down.
As one of your readers, I’m glad, too!
Too bad the house is gone. But the memories remain, especially now that you have recorded them.
I agree, Eilene, especially since the house was torn down for something industrial that didn’t even come to fruition.
I love all of the stories with precious photos, Joy. They sing to me – and do a body good! Thank you. 😘
Love your note, Vicki!
You are very welcome, Joy! 🥰
Such wonderful stories and memories, Joy. I’m actually sad to hear that the house was torn down. I guess sticks and bricks are just there for a time, but memories last forever. Have a great day.
Thank God for memories!
Wonderful details, Joy. I have no doubt it is remembering these details that make your books so engaging!
Goosebumps!
They had a chamber pot in the hall, now every house needs to have two bathrooms! I love going down memory lane with your family. Thanks, Joy.
It is amazing, isn’t it, Nancy!
It’s great we still have our memories. I googled my grandmother’s house where I was born and it looks like it was torn down and a new style in its place. I was heartbroken.
Same here. Even the hospital where I was born, my elementary school, and childhood home have been torn down and something modern built instead.