Kim here. I remember growing up that Granddaddy would grow tomatoes in an empty lot down the street, and Grandmother had the most elaborate garden in the backyard. I would walk the paths and pretend it was a little city. I used to play with a little girl whose backyard was on the side fence.
Grandmother loved to etch names in wet cement. She put our names out on the front walk, Henry Jr.’s name on the steps in front of the porch. The one that made me laugh was Precious Kimberly and Darling Keri etched on the back stoop. I first went back to the house in the early 90s, and knocked on the door to introduce myself as the granddaughter of the couple who built the place, but they were already gone by then. So was the beautiful garden in back.