The Hineston Chronicles
Volume 13 Number 3
J. B. Dyess was the
s/o - Edmond D. Dyess - Margaret Mathis
gs/o - Thomas D. Dyess - Nancy Jenkins
g-gs/o - George W Dyess - Elizabeth Everett
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Sarah Matilda Smith was the
d/o - Jeremiah Smith - Mary Caroline Wilson
gd/o - Sherrod Smith - Maria Bond
g-gd/o - Nimrod Smith - Unkn
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Choosing my favorite picture was difficult because every picture is my favorite. I wanted to choose one that had at least one of my favorite; therefore, I chose a picture of my parental grandparents. Although it may not be the most photogenically appealing, I chose it because my heart skips a happy beat each time I see the picture. I see my heritage, genes, and resemblance in both.
My grandparents had ten children; however, only nine reached adulthood. These nine children produced twenty-two grandchildren (first cousins) of which twenty reached adulthood. I am the daughter of their sixth child and third son, Oscar Carl Dyess. Presently, there are eleven remaining first cousins and several of them are on Facebook who may read my account of our grandparents. I know each of the first cousins has special memories of “Granny and Gramp”. I look forward to reading and hearing some of your grandpa and grandma memories you may wish to share.
My grandfather, J. B. “Josie” "Jose" Dyess, was a tall, big-boned man with beautiful, clear-blue eyes that seemed to twinkle especially when he knew he had “rattled” my grandmother, Sarah Matilda “Tilda” Smith Dyess. They lived in the country about 25 miles west of Alexandria, Louisiana. To get to Alexandria, they would ride a bus driven by a public-school bus driver who earned extra money transporting people from the country to town in his personally-owned bus.
Grandpa was a farmer who loved being involved in politics. For many years, he was elected Constable in his community.
During one of the elections, after Grandpa voted, he went to “town” (Alexandria). On the way home, he found himself on the bus with the wife (Addie Holt) of his opponent, Howard Holt. All the way home, Grandpa and Ms. Addie sparred back and forth about who was going to win the election.
Grandpa’s stop was first and as he was getting off the bus, the opponent’s wife leaned forward and announced, “Well, Mr. Jose, I will be sleeping with the constable tonight.”
Grandpa’s tall framed loomed in the doorway of the bus. Without missing a step, Grandpa slightly turned his head and with a blue-eyed twinkle said, “Good, Ms. Addie, bring your night gown because I go to bed at dark!”
Grandpa did win the election. Ms. Addie slept with the loser!
I loved staying with my grandparents. During one of my visits, they had a disagreement. To make matters worse, Granny would call him “Joseph Blossom”, which would heat the disagreement even more. Grandpa’s middle initial was ‘B’ and although I really do not know for certain what it stood for, Granny sure knew how to push the final button!
When she called him “Blossom”, Grandpa stomped off the porch, went to his hammock, which hung between two trees, and flopped angrily down on it. Granny and I continued sitting on the front porch shelling peas and talking.
Suddenly, huge rain drops began to fall. I was so worried that Grandpa was going to get wet. Granny would not let me go and wake him. She said when he got wet he would get in a good humor and come back. Sure enough! He came back very humble, smiling, and resumed his seat in the swing on the front porch. The rain must have settled whatever the disagreement was about because nothing more was said.
My grandmother had a certain smell that was so comforting and made me keep wanting to hug her. I can still smell my grandmother to this day, which bring me a lot of comfort.
She allowed me to follow her wherever she went. Granny was the most creative cook I have even met. When I thought there was nothing in the kitchen to cook, she would go in there and in no time, there was a full coarse meal. The meals seemed to just appear. I keep looking for that gene to appear in my DNA matches! But it hasn't.
When my mother was within a month of delivering my little sister, Lola Kay Dyess Desormeaux, Daddy took Mother and me to my grandparents. We lived far back in the woods and Daddy worked nights. I was only 21 months old and Mother was having some difficulty with her pregnancy. Granny took care of us, and as the story goes, she spoiled me.
When Granny made biscuits, I would whine for raw biscuit dough. My mother; however, was of the very strong opinion that raw biscuit dough would ‘give me worms’ and told Granny not to feed me the raw dough. Even though I was only 21 months old, I learned quickly not to verbally ask for the dough. Fortunately for me, Granny figured it out. As I stood by her side, she trained me to open my mouth, and like a mother bird, she would drop the raw dough in my opened mouth. Mother never caught on! To this day, I love raw biscuit dough as do several of my grandchildren. Learned behavior. Or, possibly they inherited the raw biscuit dough gene?
A short while ago, I was sitting in Sissy’s, a little community restaurant in Hineston. Suddenly, a man came through the door and look directly at me. He came to my table and said, “I hate to ask, but are you a Dyess?”
I smiled back and replied, “Yes, and I bet you are a Miller.”
We had never met each other; however, in a small community, family features are easily recognizable. He was in his 80’s and his memory was keen. We shared many Dyess – Miller stories. One of the stories he shared with me was about my grandfather.
Later in life when Grandpa quit his farming, he continued to raise a big garden. Mr. Miller told me he and some of the other people would sit and watch Grandpa as he plowed. Well, maybe not the plowing, but watched what Grandpa would do while plowing.
On the other side of the garden, a family had moved in with some pretty, young ladies. Mr. Miller said Grandpa would plow and when he came to the end of the row and started to turn, he would stop and look over the fence at the pretty ladies for a minute. Mr. Miller said if Grandma was sitting on the front porch Grandpa wouldn’t stop to admire the pretty ladies.
When I was almost twelve, we moved from the community about an hour and half away. Since daddy was a minister, our weekends were always busy with church functions and services. Therefore, we did not get to visit my grandparents as much as we did before. I do not remember spending the night with them again after we moved. I missed that so much! I always kept in touch with Granny by phone, visited several times of the year. These moments are cherished memories.
Now, going back to the picture I choose. I know you will not see glamour or anything like that. However, what I see is how important these two people were in my life. They were hard working and I knew they loved me.
My grandmother could remember all our birthdays, which made me feel I was important to her. She could remember the smallest details. When she told a story, she started at the very beginning. When I start to tell a story, my immediate family will say, “Ok Matilda, let’s hear the whole story”. I always like to remember important dates and again my immediate family will call me and say, “OK, Matilda, what year did this happen or that happen”?
Even though they have been gone a long time, I still miss them very much. I value the time I had with them
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