Things were hard when we were growing up in the 20's and 30's. We girls helped Papa all we could in the field. Wilma and I would run the cultivator for Papa. One time he was working some land about a mile from us. We rode on the cultivators over there, and one time the one Wilma was riding had some trouble. The tongue dropped down and the horses began going round and round, in one bar ditch and out the other. We finally got it under control and went on our way. Never a dull moment when we helped out.

We hoed cotton, then helped pick it. I wasn't very good at picking cotton; 200 pound was my limit. One year I recall Wilma picked up cotton off the ground after the stripping. She was wanting extra money for something.