I was looking through my poem box when I noticed a yellowed old envelope between a couple of pages of poems . My mother saved a lot of correspondence throughout her life, and this turned out to be a letter written in 1939 from an aunt and uncle. This must have been the time my dad was a hired man for Ted McCoy, since they were wanting my parents to talk to a Ralph McCoy. My 93-year-old sister remembers Ted McCoy. I'll have to ask her about this Ralph, next time I talk to her.
I didn't know Uncle Raymond and his family very well. I remember them coming to visit us in Eagleville in the 50's, and then one time they visited us here, in the 70's when my mother and dad were living on our place; Daddy had lung cancer, which usually doesn't end well; so I imagine Uncle Raymond wanted to visit his brother one more time. They had moved to California in the 50's, I think, and lived there for the rest of their lives.
My dad, like several uncles on both sides of my family, made his living working for farmers; they changed jobs a lot during the Depression. This, of course, is all before my time; I was still five years in the future when this letter was written.