I never once saw my Grandma Gaddie. She passed away in Oklahoma in 1912. She suffered a sunstroke and died two weeks later.
Some years after that, Grandpa Gaddie came to live with us in Texas. I don't remember exactly when he came, but he passed away while we were living on the Exum place, and we moved from there in 1917. He seemed quite old, maybe old ahead of his time because of hard work and the severity of life at that time in our history.
Anyhow, he could do light odd jobs about the farm. There were always outside chores to be done. We kids were glad to have him help us do them. And he kept us kids company at times when there was no work to be done.
But Grandpa was much more of a stranger to us than Grandma Johnson was. She lived only a half-mile away; we grew up with her. But I guess we hadn't seen Grandpa Gaddie more than once or twice before he came to live with us.
Grandpa was never much of a bother in any way. He was never bedfast and never had to be waited on. It didn't take much to feed him. We raised almost everything we ate and he brought plenty of clothing with him when he came. The entire family didn't require much money, and we had plenty of other things in life.
Grandpa was agreeable and compatible. He was never grouchy. He had a room and a bed of his own in our home and he soon became just one of the family and was accepted by all of us.
Then one morning Grandpa didn't come to breakfast. A knock on his door brought no answer. Had he slipped out and gone for a walk? No one had noticed him out anywhere. This was unusual for Grandpa. He was usually there on time for meals so the rest of us wouldn't have to wait for him. In our home no one ever started helping his plate at meal time until all were seated and the blessing was asked.
Papa knocked on Grandpa's door again, then he called to him, but there was still no answer. As Mama and Papa opened the door to his room, there he was, still in bed, still asleep—but he was not breathing. It seemed that Grandpa just went to sleep and didn't wake up.
Papa went to Hamlin that morning in a wagon and brought back a casket. The women dressed Grandpa in his best suit. Some men went to the graveyard and dug a grave. Others went to tell the preacher, and found him plowing in his field. He stopped plowing and went home to clean up and eat dinner.
Grandpa was placed in his casket and loaded into a wagon. Then about three o'clock we drove him to the Neinda graveyard where the preacher and other friends were gathered. And there, that afternoon, we laid him away in his final resting place.