J. M. Middleton Services Tuesday in San Antonio Funeral services for John M. Middleton, 45-year-old Dallas Frito-Lay executive and Hunt County cattle rancher, were held at 10:00 AM Tuesday in the Jefferson Methodist Church in San Antonio. Mr. Middleton owned and leased several sizable tracts of land in the Celeste-Kingston area. Middleton carried on a Hereford cattle operation on his Hunt County lands, and had built a country home between Celeste and Greenville where he and his wife spent their weekends. He had been with Frito-Lay since 1961 as director of procurement. He died Saturday, November 6, 1965, in Dallas after suffering a heart attack. (November 12, 1965, The Celeste Courier)

Mrs. Lillie Lipsey Spending Winter in Florida Mrs. Lillie Lipsey is spending the winter months in Orlando, Florida with her daughter, Mr. and Mrs. James A. Shott and son, Bill Shott. Mrs. Shott is the former Billie Lipsey. Mrs. Lipsey and her five children who had not been together in several years, enjoyed a ten--wonderful--day reunion before she departed for Florida from Mesquite. The children are Mr. and Mrs. Robert G. Goodin, Robbie Goodin and Greg Goodin (Mrs. Goodin is the former Gloria Lipsey) of Waukegan, Illinois; Mr. and Mrs. Bobby Jack Lipsey, Bobby Lipsey and Renee Lipsey; Mr. and Mrs. Jimmy L. Lipsey, Randy Lipsey and Roxanne Lipsey; Mr. and Mrs. Curtis L. Smith, Jr., and Curtis Smith III (Mrs. Smith is the former Barbara Ann Lipsey). (November 12, 1965, The Celeste Courier)

Lt. Col. Denny in Command of Helicopter Squadron During a formal change of command ceremony at Hue-Phu Bai, Viet Nam, Lt. Col. Rex (Ziggy) Denny of Celeste, assumed command of Marine Helicopter Squadron-161 (HMM-161). Lt. Col. Denny departed Hawaii in March with the First Marine Brigade and arrived in Viet Nam in April this year. Prior to assuming command of HMM-161, he served on the staff of Tank Force 78 for the landing of US Marine at Hue-Phu-Bai and Chu Lai and later served as the operations officer of the Third Marine Amphibious Force with headquarters in Da Nang. HMM-161, the first and most famous assault helicopter squadron in the Marine Corps, was the first to see action in Korea. Col. Denny flew over eighty combat missions with the 161 in Korea in 1952 as a captain. HMM-161 moved to Hue-Phu-Bai, a small Vietnamese airstrip located forty-seven miles from the border of North Viet Nam in June. Lt. Col. Denny, son of Mr. and Mrs. R. C. Denny of Celeste, is still proud to call Celeste home after more than twenty-three years active duty in the United States Marine Corps. His wife, Marjorie and three children are remaining in Hawaii until Denny returns to the United States. (November 12, 1965, The Celeste Courier)

I found that story on the net and it gave no year.I also sent this to my son in Greenville, his oldest daughter is always bringing home a stray cat or dog.

For Dr. Mac: Do we have a date for the mad dog episode? Rabies was still a problem during my childhood in the thirties and forties although treatment was available.

>From Quinian there comes the report of one of the saddest and most pitiful cases of physical suffering ever recored in Hunt county. Seven years ago,W.K.Steger and Holland Pitts were bitten by a mad dog. One year after Pitts died from hydrophobia,but Stegar never at any time showed any symptoms of the dread malady.Six weekks ago he was bitten by a cat,and last Friday when he came from work he told his wife he was sick. His condition continued to grow worse until Saturday,when he lost his mind and attacked his wife. Neighbors were notified and came in and overpowerd the unfortunate victim and physicians pronounced the malady hydrophobia. It requires the effort of five or six men to hold him in bed,and he is being attended by Dr. Yates of Poetry and Dr.Merchant of Quinian.When nebghbors and friends come in and offer to shake hands,the suffererer has to be watched closely and held or he will bite them. The afflicted man is the son of "Squire Stegar," a well known citizen of Quinian.

Audie waved him back. "Pull out of here with that radio! I'll contact the artillery by phone!" Audie had done artillery spotting before. He checked his map, estimated the enemy position, then rang the field phone. "Get me the artillery!" he snapped. "We're being attacked! Six tanks and a couple hundred infantry!" The American artillery opened up with smoke, shell, and then added high explosives, square on the German lines, scattering them like duckpins. Smoke drifted through the shattered trees. Audie stared down the road and then reached for the phone just as it rang. "How close are they?" came the question. Audie told them to keep firing between the Americans and the advancing enemy. Then the German tanks cracked through the woods and opened up almost at point-blank range on the outnumbered Americans. Audie cupped his hands about his mouth. "B Company pull out! We can't stop that armor with small arms! Pull out!" The men began to drift back. Out of the 128 men and seven officers who had entered those woods at the start of the drive were only forty men and one officer left. . . Audie Murphy. "What about you, sir?" yelled a non-com. Audie jerked an arm, pointing to the rear. "I'll stay with the phone as long as I can. Git!" The battered company slowly pulled back, leaving the scattered bodies of their comrades lying on the bloody snow. Audie called in some artillery corrections, then put down the phone to pick up his carbine. The Germans were a hundred yards or more from him. He shot carefully and began to drop one of the enemy after the other. It was too hot, though, for one lone American. Audie began to fall back and then he noticed the burning TD. A machine gun was mounted on it. He glanced back over his shoulder. The German tanks had veered off. The phone rang. "How close are they?" came the dry voice. Audie spoke quickly. "Just hold the phone and I'll let you talk to one of them!" He carried the field phone with him, dragging the wire after it until he reached the TD. He pulled the dead body of an officer from the burning vehicle. Then he jumped to the machine gun. It looked all right and there was plenty of ammunition. Audie cut loose with it at the line of advancing infantry. The heavy slugs chewed through the line and broke it. Something swished through the air and the TD seemed to ring like a bell. A direct hit! And another one! The phone rang again. Audie mouthed corrections into it. Then he threaded a fresh belt into the machine gun and opened up again. Smoke from the burning TD was so thick he could hardly see through it. But the smoke helped, for the bewildered enemy could not tell where the fire was coming from. Audie did not realize at the time that the tanks and infantrymen of the German forces were afraid of the gas and ammunition in the TD. If the flames reached them. . . The wind shifted and Audie saw a group of Germans crouched in the roadside ditch trying to figure out where he was. They found out too late. When the machine gun stopped firing, they were all dead. He reached for the phone. "Correct fire, battalion. Fifty over." he barked. "Are you all right, lieutenant?" came the anxious question. In a moment the American artillery opened up on the new range Audie had given them and the woods became a nightmare of crashing shells, flying tree trunks, and dense smoke. Audie stared through the smoke. The German tanks had had enough. They were lumbering angrily back toward Holtzwihr, but the infantry were still in the woods and advancing along the road, practically on top of the burning TD where Audie held his phone. He raised the phone. "Correct fire: fifty over; keep firing for effect. This is my last change." "But that's your position!" "Fifty over, sergeant!" It didn't take long. Audie Murphy's position was soon the center of his own barrage, and the Germans broke completely. Audie shook his head. The concussion had been terrible and something warm was running down his right leg. He had been hit by German mortar fire. He dropped from the TD and limped through the woods, all alone. He found the company, reorganized it, then started right back through the woods with them in a savage counterattack. Later, he called in artillery corrections and the accurate fire did the rest. On the plane that carried Lieutenant Audie Murphy back to the United States, he was the only junior officer among fourteen generals. But he had four rows of medals and campaign ribbons. The sharecropper's kid from Farmersville, Texas (Kingston, Texas), was famous. Among his twenty-three decorations, he had the Medal of Honor, the Distinguished Service Cross, the Silver Star with two clusters signifying that he had won that decoration three times, the Bronze Star, the Legion of Merit, and the Purple Heart with two clusters indicating that he had been wounded three times. He had been personally decorated by General De Lattre De Tassigny of France with the Legion of Honor and the Croix de Guerre. He was World War Two's most decorated soldier at the age of twenty years. The Fifteenth United States Infantry of which Audie Murphy was a member during World War Two had been stationed in China for many years. On the lower half of their colorful regimental insignia, they have a coiled Chinese dragon and below the dragon is the motto, "Can Do." Audie must have remembered that motto as he stood alone in the wrecked and burning tank destroyer near Holtzwihr, France, and watched six enemy tanks and over two hundred enemy infantrymen closing in on him. "Can Do!" (pp. 154-160, They Met Danger by Captain Gordon D. Shirreffs*, USAR (Retired), Illustrated by William L. Marsh, Whitman Publishing Company, Racine, Wisconsin, 1960) (*There was a Gordon D. Shirreffs who wrote Western novels and died in 1996)

The Seventh Army drove on toward the Vosges Mountains after the landings in south France. Of an original complement of 235 officers and men in B Company, Fifteenth Infantry, Third Division, which had landed in North Africa early in 1943, there were only a few originals left. Audie Murphy, who had joined in time for the Sicilian invasion, ranked as one of its veterans. The tough young combat soldier had learned to be a scrapper at an early age. Born in a sharecropper's cabin near Farmersville, Texas, June 20, 1925 (near Kingston, Hunt County, Texas), he was one of eleven children crowded into a four-room shack with the father and mother. In 1939, the father deserted his ailing wife and eleven children and never came back. Audie became the family mainstay, borrowing a twenty-two-caliber rifle with which to hunt rabbits. When he didn't have cartridges, he used a slingshot. He worked at a variety of jobs. His mother died in 1941 and two of his sisters and one of his brothers were placed in an orphanage. While Audie was stationed at Camp Wolters, he sent every spare dime back to the orphanage. After basic training, he was shipped to Fort George G. Meade, Maryland, for fourteen more weeks of training, and there was contained a private war between Audie Murphy and his well-wishers. He was so slight and babyfaced that his officers seemed to want to protect him. At Camp Wolters, they had tried to ship him to Cooks and Bakers School, but he fought the idea. At Fort Meade, they tried to get him assigned as part of the permanent force, but he wiggled out of that. They placed him in the Post Exchange as a clerk, but somehow young Murphy managed to land in North Africa as an infantry replacement for the Third Division. In the months that followed, Audie had seen many comrades get killed or seriously wounded. But somehow, despite his always being in the very thick of the fighting, he managed to avoid the fate of his comrades. In those months, he became skilled with Tommy gun, Garand rifle, M-1 carbine, Browning Automatic Rifle, and all the other lethal tools the modern infantryman uses in the pursuit of his deadly trade. He wasn't always lucky in the strictest sense. A mortar shell had exploded between his feet in France, and the concussion had knocked him out and broken the carbine in his hands. But, even then, his only real injury was a wound in the heel. The weather turned cold. The Germans were masters of the art of the slow, stubborn retreat, and the Third Division had suffered heavily. The terrain was thickly wooded and, though frost was thick on the ground every morning, during the day General Mud took over and units had to plow through the icy gumbo. Audie's company had been in the thick of it. One day he was called back to regimental headquarters where he and two other bearded non-coms were field-promoted to second lieutenants. The officer who promoted them shook their hands, smiled, and told them, "You are now gentlemen by Act of Congress. Shave, take a bath, then get back into the lines." Later, after three days of tough fighting through endless woods and fields, Second Lieutenant Audie Murphy was leading a B Company platoon. The dawn had been cold and the October day was raw. The American artillery had opened up with a roaring, walking barrage behind which the Third Division was to advance. Lieutenant Murphy led this men off the trail and as he did so a rifle cracked flatly and his walk-talkie radioman, who was only a few feet away, fell with a bullet hole just above the left eye. "Sniper!" yelled Murphy as he jumped for cover, a fraction too late. A red-hot iron slammed against his hip. Audie raised his carbine. There was a slight movement as a camouflage covering was lifted from a foxhole. The carbine spat flame and the sniper was dead. Bad weather had slowed Murphy's journey to the hospital, and when he got there, the doctor found that gangrene had set in. It had cost Audie several pounds of infected flesh, which he could ill afford to spare, but in time, he had recovered. He was needed on the line. The mortality in combat officers was terribly high. The dull light of dawn spread across the woods and fields near Holtzwihr, France, the morning of January 26, 1945. There was a gloomy, foreboding look about the woods. The black-etched tree trunks and branches stood out against the knee-deep snow. An icy wind swept down from the Vosges Mountains and cut through thick woolen clothing. Audie's B Company had been given order to "drive to the edge of the woods facing Holtzwihr, dig in. . . and hold." They had reached the edge of the woods facing Holtzwihr, all right, but digging into the frozen earth was another matter. And there was yet another part of the order to be filled. . .to hold the ground. Audie stamped back and forth. It was no place for a warm-blooded Texas boy. He could hear the men muttering. They didn't know the grand strategy of war--nor did he, for that matter. An infantryman's field of vision is limited from one ditch to another; one tree trunk to the next; one empty clip of ammunition to the next loaded one. But it was clear that the veteran Third Division was having one of the hardest fights of its distinguished career. They had reached the Rhine, and beyond the Rhine was Germany. Some American units had already crossed that famous river. But the job of the Third Division was to climinate the Colmar Pocket, a strongly fortified area reaching south to the Swiss border. The Colmar Pocket was a constant menace to the American advance. The Germans knew their business. They were posted in easily defensible positions with fine fields of fire. They had plenty of armor and had the advantage of being on the defensive. Audie called battalion headquarters at dawn, "Where is our support?" he asked. "It will be up. Hang on. The attack will be delayed." Audie studied the cold woods and he didn't like what he saw. Holtzwihr was about a mile off across the fields. The church steeple showed up like a thin finger against the dull sky. Beside the road leading toward Holtzwihr were the two tank destroyers, which had moved up during the night. Audie walked over to them and banged on the side of one of them. "Hey! Rise and shine! You'd better get these tin cans off the road! It's getting light! They'll blast you if you don't" An officer stuck his head out. "If we move into those woods, we'll get bogged down," he growled. "You haven't any cover!" The officer yawned. "Maybe so, but we sure have a fine field of fire." Audie shrugged and walked over to his machine-gun squad. "How's your ammo?" he asked the sergeant. "Four hundred rounds, maybe." Audie whistled and shrugged. "Don't miss, sarge." It was lonely there in the woods as the light grew. A one artillery observer showed up, blue with cold. Audie rubbed his unshaven jaw and rang up headquarters again. "What's the scoop? he asked. "No change. Hang on." "Yeah. . . hang on . . . " The long morning dragged by. Suddenly there was a rushing, whining noise in the air. The German barrage roared in, throwing up murderous clods of frozen earth, knocking out the machine-gun crew, hitting the first of the tank destroyers, killing three of the crew while the rest of them poured out of the smoking TD. Six German tanks rumbled out of the town. They split up into sections of three each. One section disappeared into the woods on one side of the road and the other vanished into the woods on the other side. Audie whistled softly. "Here they come. Trying to flank us from both sides." White dots began to move across the snowy fields toward the American lines. German infantry wearing white snow caps! The second tank destroyer kicked over its engine and the unexpected roaring startled some of the newer men close by. The gears were meshed and then the heavy vehicle slid helplessly into a ditch. The angle of the stranded vehicle made the guns useless. The crew wasted no time. They abandoned the helpless TD. The artillery observer raised his head. "I can't get headquarters yet!" he called out. (pp. 146-154, Shirreffs)

In a message dated 05/30/2003 8:59:55 PM Eastern Daylight Time, [email protected] writes: > I am confused about how to answer your questions. I checked the book > "Decatur County, Tennessee History And Families 1846-1996" for your > questions and discovered the article written about the Jernigan family was written by > you. > In the article, you answer your own questions. > Carol, In the article I described William Franklin Jernigan's life, but I never did figure out his reasons for moving to TX. His parents had died in a house fire, leaving Will and his younger brother and sister as orphans. But why did he go to TX? I find it really interesting that there were apparently many families from Decatur Co. TN who moved to Hunt Co. TX. If anyone can add their ancestors to this list of people who lived in both places, I would like to hear from you also! Sharon Tingley

I have been trying all day long to get hold of a cousin Freda Richardson. Wolud some one check on her?

My gradfather came to Hunt County sometime before 1883, as he married Alvia Ellis Hodges on Aug. 30, 1883 in Hunt Co. They stayed there for awhile then moved to Navvaro Co. Tx. and then to Okla. Thats where I lost him, cannot find anything after they arrived in Okla. I.m reserching Brackin, Hodges . They moved to Texas from Sumner Co. Tenn. between 1880 and 1883. Anyone have information on this family I would like to hear from. Write: [email protected]

Higginbotham Books used to deal in out of print books, and I thought they had a website, but I can't find it anymore. Another possibility would be to contact the authors. They would likely have any unsold copies. At 03:22 PM 5/30/03 -0500, you wrote: >The History of Wolfe City Texas! and From Tall Cotton to ? Can you still >buy these Books? > > >==== TXHUNT Mailing List ==== >Don't forget! The Hunt County GenWeb Project Home Page has moved to >http://www.geocities.com/countyofhunt

Hi Sharon, I am confused about how to answer your questions. I checked the book "Decatur County, Tennessee History And Families 1846-1996" for your questions and discovered the article written about the Jernigan family was written by you. In the article, you answer your own questions. Carol Brown [email protected] "I Think That I Shall Never See, A Finished Genealogy"

Audie Murphy: Too Young to Fight! The big Marine recruiting sergeant looked up at the thin face of the kid in front of the desk. "How old are you?" he asked. "Eighteen, sir!" "Yep," the sergeant said dryly. His experienced eyes studied the thin frame of the young Texas boy. "How tall?" he asked at last. "Five feet, seven, sergeant." The sergeant nodded, then looked the kid full in the eyes. "How much do you weigh?" The kid hesitated. "One hundred and eight pounds, sir." The sergeant shook his head. "You can't make the US Marines. Try the Army down the street. I hear they have a war on, too." He turned away to avoid the hurt look in the kid's eyes. The boy walked toward the door. "What did you say your name was?" called out the sergeant. The kid turned. "Murphy. . .Audie Murphy. . . ." Then he was gone. The sergeant shrugged. He had to face many of these boys trying to worm their way into the Marines. The Marines wanted men. "Audie Murphy," he said with a grunt, then promptly dismissed the episode from his mind. It wasn't until three or four years later that he would remember that name with a start. . . Audie Murphy. The kid had a hard time. He was seventeen, not eighteen, in that blazing war year of 1942, and he wanted to be a Marine, a flier, or a soldier--anything so that he could get away from the cotton fields of this part of Texas. But the paratroopers turned him down, too, although an experienced recruiting sergeant tipped the boy off to filling up on bananas and milk. It was a good tip. He made four pounds that way and was finally accepted in the infantry. It didn't take him long to get a nickname in his training outfit at Camp Wolters, Texas. Service outfits have a neat way of tabbing a man with a nickname that sticks. For thirteen weeks of basic training the skinny, sharecropper's kid was called "Baby." In August of 1944 units of the Third Division, Seventh United States Army, landed at Yellow Beach in the invasion of southern France. Company B of the Fifteenth United States Infantry was pinned down by accurate enemy machine-gun fire soon after they had landed. The German machine guns were on a wooded hill with command of the vineyards and canebrakes where Baker Company had taken cover. The murderous fire ripped through the canes and trees. "Medic! Medic! Medic!" rose from dust-hoarse voices in the canes. Baker Company was truly held up and they couldn't go back. A young staff sergeant ran his M-l carbine dry, then realized he needed a lot more firepower than he had. He crawled back to a light machine gun and dragged it forward. There was only one place to set up the machine gun for accurate fire on the enemy guns. Out in the open. The non-com dashed out, set up the gun, sighted quickly and opened fire, stitching a row of bullets along the rim of the enemy position. The enemy fire died away. "Come on!" yelled the young sergeant. He ran forward and opened fire with his carbine. One of his men followed and hurled grenades until he was killed. Then the sergeant began throwing them. When the smoke cleared the young non-com was master of the hill and B Company advanced. The sergeant was a hard-bitten veteran of the fighting in Sicily. He had been in the bitter fighting near Salerno and he had fought along the bloody Volturno River. At Anzio, which almost ended in the Germans driving the Americans back into the sea, he gained his staff sergeancy and command of a platoon of veterans, and later he had led them on the advance to Rome. He was just a few months past his nineteenth birthday when be brought his platoon ashore at Yellow Beach. His name was Murphy. . .Audie Murphy. . . .(pp. 142-146, by Captain Gordon D. Shirreffs)

I don't know the answer, but they were published by the Henington Publishing Company in Wolfe City. If there are any copies left, they might have them or tell you where they are. Bob Wilson ----- Original Message ----- From: "Dr.J.T Maclaine" <[email protected]> To: <[email protected]> Sent: Friday, May 30, 2003 3:22 PM Subject: [TXHUNT-L] BOOKS PUBLICATIONS in Wolfe City,Texas > The History of Wolfe City Texas! and From Tall Cotton to ? Can you still > buy these Books? > > > ==== TXHUNT Mailing List ==== > Don't forget! The Hunt County GenWeb Project Home Page has moved to > http://www.geocities.com/countyofhunt > >

"Our Town This Week..." The stars fell, not on Alabama, but on Our Town, this past weekend when "the kind hearts and friendly people" came from far places to greet, love, visit, and in general sweat it out in the great crowds that gathered both on Saturday evening and Sunday all day. The humid weather was the only thing amiss, and no one seemed to mind it too much. But, for the record, there is talk to be put into operation (next time) to get a shade over more space and over the food tables. Compliments were in excess for the management of the entire affair, so with more shade and seats on the outside, it will be complete. Five years is plenty of time to get things done. It is noteworthy that so many of the coming middle-aged group and the yet younger ones attended the meetings. They will be the ones who glory in the get-togethers in a very few years. Reams have been written telling about what was to be and it would take reams and reams to tell all the story--if it could be assembled--but no one can do that. I believe the largest class group that was together--at least the one handed to me--was the class of 1949. There were fourteen present out of a class of twenty-three. Present were Artie Clinton, Captain Harry Wilkerson, Jimmie Jean Passons Nichols, Mary Harris Morriss, Jimmy McMichael, Rex Hudson, Edwin West, Jimmy Don Mulkey, Bobbie Hunter Rysinger, Peggy Lewis Norwood, James David Lacy, Jackie McGahee Stranlin, Clifford Clark, and Rachel Glasscock Clark. Well, I don't know, haven't time to figure percentage, but Marjean Henslee's class of 1941 had sixteen present out of forty-seven. Reba Bland and eight members of the first grade picture she was displaying, were present from the '41 class. Lena Harrison Rowell was present from the class of 1920. Good for Lena. The class of '27 with five present were Mary Braly Doyle, Eula Jones Lewis, Truett Wilburn, Carl W. Ross, and Charles Luna. Solon Milton turned in a list of thirty-two people who were in the 1930 to 1940 room gathering. Carl Lacy listed twenty-nine names in the classes of the twenties with the class of '30 represented by Marie Patterson Connatser, Ruby Jones White, Cleatis Green Hudson, Mozell McGee Jacobs, Mildred Felty Evans, and Ruby Blankenship Warren. Others in all groups were present the next day. Albert's class, 1936, a rival in Celeste Homecoming attendance, may have been beaten as only seven were named for the class meeting. The homecoming postmortems were again thrashed over, retold, and related last night, Monday, over a sixty-three pound watermelon that was the gift of a friend of Norris Lewis of Brownfield, and now our friend for this is the second homecoming that he has contributed a giant melon. The eating of the most delicious melon was in our yard, and the hard working committee members were invited to enjoy it--and enjoy it they did. Sid, you can pick fine ones and you have five years to plan for another--please! Mr. Frankie Szydloski (Sid), a farmer and a businessman in Brownfield, and Mr. Bill Timmons, a farmer, also sent along a fine one. We will have it later when our California family gets here. The O. L. Nichols, Jr.'s, deep freeze cooled the huge chuck of melon in a few hours. Again, about the homecoming, among the many there, relatives were missed. Too bad to have not seen the Marvins, Ray and his mother, Lillian, the West Texas cousins, and we had expected to get a visit. Just a lot of people to get all around. (By Mrs. Lois Lacy Lewis, September 10, 1965, The Celeste Courier)

I am working on BATES, FELMET, & TEAGUES. These names were in Hunt Co. before 1900 & up to the 70's or later Joe Bates had a Cafe in Greenville who is a brother to my Rebecca Bates Felmet. Thanks for any help. Peggy

The History of Wolfe City Texas! and From Tall Cotton to ? Can you still buy these Books?

Wolfe City,Texas DOB April 27,1909 DOD June 18 ,1996. Can someone tell us how this CHASTAIN family fits into Dr.Pierre Chastain family tree?

Kingston Ex-Students and Community Homecoming Enjoyable Day For Many In a building in the same spot where once stood Calhoun College and later Kingston School, many gathered for the day. There were many hand shakes, smiles, hugs, and also a few tears as old timers greeted each other. One remarked that it had been fifty years since she had been to Kingston, but enjoyed it so much she won't wait as long again. The day started at 9:30 with registration. Some attended the three churches, coming later. At noon, the invocation was given by Weldon Harless, a former student of Kingston, after which a delicious meal was enjoyed. Mrs. Wayne Steed was in charge serving the food, assisted by Mrs. Doc Lyday, Mrs. Bert Reisor, Mrs. Marion Morgan, and Mrs. Ralph Ross. During the afternoon, the following program was enjoyed. Bro. Bill Reisor led in prayer, after a moment of silence in memory of those that passed on since last year. They were: Mrs. W. F. Hopewell, a resident; and Mrs. Dollie Stokes, a student. Mrs. Hazel (Jones) Conley, a former student, led a couple of songs, assisted by Mrs. Nelson Shankles. Prizes were awarded to the following: Two students present that attended school back in the 1800's, Mrs. Emma (Albert) Quattlebaum and Mrs. Asa DeFee; the teacher that taught the farthest back in 1916-1917, Mrs. Loura (Cole) Ross; the teacher with most students present was Mrs. Katie (George) McGee with thirteen pupils present; and the one traveling the longest distance to the reunion, J. C. (Bud) Porter, of Pearland, south of Houston. Five former teachers were present, the smallest number since organized: Mrs. Loura (Cole) Ross, Mrs. Katie (George) McGee, Mrs. J. B. Jones, Mr. Nelson Shankles, and Mrs. Cora (Birdwell) Furlong. One family should have been honored with the greatest number of brothers and sisters present. This family was reared most of their lives about one mile north of Kingston, the Penny Porter family with several present. Those present were Matt Porter, Ode Porter, Lee Porter, Hazel Porter, Ethel D. Porter, J. C. Porter, and Penny Porter. Another family, the Steve Adams family, reared about two miles south of Kingston with five brothers and sisters present were Maude Adams, Albert Adams, Luther Adams, Jetty Adams, and Lillian Adams. What a time for a family reunion, plus homecoming! Officers for the coming year are Nelson Shankles, chairman; Carl Lamm and Ralph Ross vice-chairmen, and Bell Lamm, secretary. Bro. C. B. Garrett dismissed with prayer. Those in attendance were: From Kingston: The families of Wayne Steed, Ralph Ross, Cloyd Gibson, Carl Lamm, Marion Morgan, E. J. Morrison, Bert Reisor, Weldon Harless, Rob Shields, Troy Books, Eli Webb, Mrs. Edna Wade, Mrs. Lessie Addington, Mrs. Doc Lyday, Charlotte Lyday, Mrs. Nellie Ward, Eutricia Giles, Mrs. Bessie Farmer, Katherine Yeary, Mr. and Mrs. J. H. Baker, Preston Hopewell, Fay Brooks, Margie Brooks, Melvin Brooks, Mrs. Mary Lou Atherton and grandson Keith Luke, Mrs. Letha Williams, Mrs. Loura Ross, Mrs. Thela Statzer, Debbie Statzer, and Mr. and Mrs. Thurman Brooks. From Fort Worth: Mr. and Mrs. A. J. Tidwell and Andrea Tidwell, Mrs. Jessie (Lacy) Phelan, and Geneva McCoy. From Tidwell: Mr. and Mrs. Herbert Spradling. From White Rock: Mr. and Mrs. J. D. Lowery, Bro. and Mrs. Bill Reisor, Gary Reisor, Greg Reisor. From Point: Mr. and Mrs. Nelson Shankles. From Wolfe City: Mr. and Mrs. Leon Hanson (Ethel D. Porter). From Graham: Mr. and Mrs. Woodrow Read. From Spur: Mr. and Mrs. John Read. From Commerce: Mr. and Mrs. Ray Williams (Frances Nicholson). From Wichita Falls: Mrs. Irene (Albert) Hall. From Bonham: Mr. and Mrs. O. B. Morrison and Zora Kay Morrison. From Pearland: Mr. and Mrs. J. C. (Bud) Porter. From Kaufman: Mr. and Mrs. Penny Porter and Jeff Porter. From Campbell: Mrs. Doc Read. From Mount Pleasant: Mr. Lee (Porter) Steadman. From Sherman: Mr. Woodrow Little. From Caddo Mills: Mrs. Emma (Albert) Quattlebaum, Mrs. Ruth (Quattlebaum) Williams, D. B. Quattlebaum, Mrs. Jetty (Adams) Fan, Mrs. Lillian (Adams) Newinllage, and Mrs. Maude (Adams) Shields. From Houston: Mr. and Mrs. Ray Scott (Faris Horton), Mrs. Gladys (James) Jones, Deane White (daughter) Cindy White, Stephanie White, Jennie White (granddaughter) and grandson, Craig Anderson. From Euless: Mr. and Mrs. Robert Wilson (Joyce Reisor), Lynn Wilson, Glenn Wilson, Sherry Wilson, Donna Wilson, and Debbie Wilson. From Denton: Mr. and Mrs. Albert Adams, Ralph Adams, and three children. From Celeste: Mr. and Mrs. George McGee (Katie George), Teri Gale, David Dale, Mr. and Mrs. Leon Norris (Norma Meeks), Mrs. Monroe Passons (Matt Porter), Mr. and Mrs. Drew Aven, Mr. and Mrs. Haskell Biggs, and Mrs. J. C. Slayden (Angie Lou Norris). From Dallas: Mr. and Mrs. B. E. Williams, Donna Williams, Mrs. Juanita (Moore) Beezley, Louis Reed, Rosa (Reed) Moreland, Mr. and Mrs.. R. H. Furlong (Cora Birdwell). From Greenville: Mr. and Mrs. Roy Spoonemore, Mr. and Mrs. L. D. Wilburn, Elizabeth Wilburn, Melinda Hitchock, Mr. and Mrs. J. B. Jones, Mr. and Mrs. A. W. DeFee, Mr. and Mrs. Dub Morrison, Priscilla Morrison, Travis Morrison, Mrs. Judy (Cannon) Hurley, Jeff Hurley, Mr. and Mrs. Willard Brownfield (Ruth Burns), Ode (Porter) Burns, Mr. and Mrs. Troy Meeks, Mr. and Mrs. Raymond Orr (Lois Morrison), Mr. and Mrs. Luther Adams (Rosie Isham), Mrs. Louis Estep, Mrs. Fannie Carroll, Leta Faye (Carroll) Long, and Janice Kay Long, Mr. and Mrs. J. D. Haney (Neomi Spoonemore), Mr. and Mrs. B. H. Newman, Linda Newman, Stacy Newman, Mrs. Cora (Meeks) Williams, and last but not least our very own Big Joe Reed, and his wife, Mabel Reed. (Reported) (June 18, 1965, The Celeste Courier)