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Memories of Golde Dicks Markham (1996) Golde Markham Dicks 51/125

Nowadays it’s said that pork isn’t good for anybody, but it must not be too harmful or
it would have killed all1 the old’ folks. Yes, I can just hear you say how people didn’t live as

long back then as they do now, but Ma lived to the age of 86; Pa lacked one month and
eleven days of living to be 98; I’m going on 88 years old. I still eat my pork, and I love it!

I have always been a late sleeper, even after I was old enough to help with the chores.

Because my bed was right by the window, I’d wake up and see my mother in the yard wash­
ing the dirty clothes. She would tell me to get dressed and that my breakfast was in the oven
staying warm.

“Please hurry and eat, Golde, and then come help me!” she yelled.
She had me battling clothes with a paddle on the battling block when I could hardly
reach it. Believe it or not, Pa helped with the clothes washing, too.

The only times Pa woke me up was to ask if I wanted to go with' him to the lake to see
if there were any fish in the fish traps. I jumped out of bed full of glee. I loved going to the
fish traps! We crossed the field to the fence, and Pa lifted me over the fence. It was quite
steep down to the lake. We used an old boat with a hole in the bottom of the front end so big

that I could have crawled through it.
Pa had taught me to sit on the .middle seat and clench my hands to the seat beside me.
He sat on the rear seat. His weight in the back would pop the front end of the boat up in the

air and keep the hole out of the water.
He had a’pole with a hook on it and could reach with the pole and pull the trap up to
the back end of the boat. He then reached down and pulled the trap out of the water. By the

time the trap got partly out of the water, the fish would be fluttering and splashing water
everywhere—a beautiful sight to see! I knew then that we would have some meat other than

fat sow belly.
Pa opened the little door on the trap and let the fish fall into the bottom of the boat.
He then paddled the boat back to the edge of the lake, cut a limb with’ a fork on it and strung
the fish on the limb. Ma already had grits cooking and coffee made. Pa would take the fish to

the well and scale and gut them. In those days nobody had ever heard of broiling fish. We
always ate fish for breakfast. I didn’t know fish could be eaten for any other meal until I

married Eric.
Our fish trapping didn’t last very long. Some scalawags would hide in the bushes by
the lake and watch where Pa placed the trap, then they would fish it. Since Grandpa Tyre

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