A story written by Fannie Lillian Terry Prothro

A story written by Fannie Lillian Terry Prothro prior to her death in 1979.

 

The first chapter to this history was printed last month history was printed September 1, 1996,

and contains information about Mrs. Prothro's childhood from her birth in 1895 to 1907. You can use this link to see that story. Click Here.

 

 

My father's people, the Terry’s, came from Ireland. The name was O'Terry but they dropped the O after they arrived in America. They were wealthy and owned many slaves until after the Civil War. Taxes and debts took all they had so five brothers and their families left their home near Baton Rouge, Louisiana, in covered wagons and they settled in Crecy, Texas.

 

One of those brothers was Sanford Warren Terry, my grandfather. He was married to Cornelia Elizabeth Cockerham and they had eight children. The girls were, Lillian, Mae, Berta, and Martha. The four boys were Randolph Monroe (my father), Wert, Silas and Ivy. I was named for Papa's sister Lillian and Mama's sister Fannie.

 

When I was in my teens, I was called Frances (I didn't like the little name, Fannie.) In those days, every girl had a new dress for Easter and a new hat to wear to church. One of mine I shall never forget was made of sky blue china silk. Mama thought blue was my color and I still like it. On Saturday before Easter, I went to town dressed in my pretty dress. The main street was wide with stores on each side. The farmers came to town on Saturday and stood around talking on the street. As I passed a man, he spit tobacco juice all over me. He hadn't seen me and was horrified. I went home crying. I can't remember if Mama could clean my dress and I wonder why she let me wear it downtown. I guess I wanted to show off.

 

Papa's brother, Silas, had moved to Louisiana and he urged Papa to move from Groveton,Texas, to Boleyn in Northern Louisiana where he could get a good paying job at a place where Silas was a manager. We moved in January 1908. After we arrived, we learned that the school wasn't a good one. From there we moved to Victoria, a better place. Elsie was born there, so now my parents had seven children: Edward, Tom, Bill, Eva, Vera, Elsie and me.

 

Grandpa wrote to Papa and wanted me to come back to Groveton to live with him and Grandma and go to school. Their last daughter, Berta, had married and moved to Joliet, Illinois, and they were lonely. (As I look back, I wonder if Papa wrote to them about the poor schools in Louisiana and this was the reason they invited me) O, joy! How happy I was to be back in Groveton where my friends were and to be staying with my grandparents whom I loved.

 

Grandpa had a big brown quarter horse named Dan Patch (I think there had been a race horse by that name). Mae lived a few miles away and we visited her on Sunday. Life was all wonderful!

 

I returned home to Galbraith, Louisiana, when school closed for the year. Again the school problem. There was only one teacher and only seven grades were taught. There was a good accredited school at Marthaville in North Louisiana, so it was arranged that I would go there and board with the Coopers. We knew them at Boleyn. They had a girl my age named Omie and a son, Karl.

 

At Thanksgiving Omie went home to Galbraith with me to spend the weekend. She had a boyfriend who was an agent for the Texas and Pacific Railroad two miles from Galbraith at Chopin, Louisiana. She had written to him and told him we would be on the train. After he had finished his work while our train was at the Chopin station, he came back to the coach to speak to Omie and I met him. His name was Eddie Thomas Prothro. I later found out that Eddie was born near Robeline, Louisiana, in 1889.

 

Since there was no school close by when he was young, his mother taught him reading, writing, spelling and arithmetic. When he was nine, his family moved to Marthaville, Louisiana. It was a small town with a good grade school. He entered the grade with pupils his age and won several prizes for being best in his class. The prizes were usually good books, such as Ruskin's True and Beautiful. When he was 14 he quit school and went to work in a mercantile store to help support the family.

 

His salary was $20 per month. He bought the house and lots where they lived for $350, plus paid for music lessons for his sister Essie. Later he got a job in Langstreet in North Louisiana at a commissary where he earned $60 per month. He had a nice place to board for $12 per month. He sent his mother $5 each month to pay for the washing and ironing. It is unbelievable when we compare living expenses then and now.

 

After two years the sawmill at Longstreet closed and Eddie went back to his old job at the store at Marthaville. He did not see much future to working in a store and was trying to decide on what to do. He wanted to go to college and study medicine but there was no way to finance it. There were no scholarships or loans to help.

 

The railroads were paying the highest salaries and a way did open up for him. Young men were allowed to study telegraphy and help the station agent with accounts but the agent at Marthaville already had someone helping him. Then one day the agent came to the store frightened, as the auditor had come to check his accounts and he knew he was short $20. One could lose his job even with that little amount of shortage. He wanted to borrow the money and Eddie loaned it to him. When the agent, Mr. Small, did not pay him back, Eddie asked if he could study station work and telegraphy as repayment and Mr. Small agreed. The other man left to take a job at another station.

 

Eddie had saved enough money to meet all his needs until he got another job. He bought telegraph instruments and installed them at home. He ran wires under the house from his room to his brother Leslie's room. At night Leslie would send messages in Morse code from his history lesson, and Eddie copied them down. One had to be able to copy train orders in a rush and be sure they were correct. During the day, Eddie studied as the messages came over the wires, plus he worked on the accounts and learned station work.

 

In six months, he was sent to Lake End as relief agent and he worked as relief agent at several stations before he got a permanent railroad agent job at Chopin, Louisiana. At that time he also handled the business of the Galbraith sawmill and of the town of Chopin.

 

At the time that Eddie was talking to us through the coach widow at the Chopin station, though, I knew nothing of his background. Omie and I invited him to come to Galbraith to visit that night. He got the section men to bring him on a handcar (after he checked with the dispatcher to see that no trains would be passing through). I had a boyfriend who came to visit, too. My boyfriend and I sat on one side of the parlor and Eddie and Omie sat across the room on the other side. We played the phonograph. It had a big horn where the music came out and we had it on loud so we couldn't hear each other talking. Every time I looked at Eddie, he was looking at me.

 

My boyfriend and Eddie came back on Sunday and Mama had a good dinner. After dinner we went walking up a high hill to the schoolhouse where we all really got acquainted. We acted silly as we wrote on the blackboard and just had a good time. We left at four o'clock on the train to go back to Marthaville. Eddie got off at Chopin. He was leaving Chopin the following Wednesday to go to Mansfield to take a job as a telegrapher, and he stopped in Marthaville to visit friends as this had been his home since he was nine. His family had recently moved to Pleasent Hill, a few miles from Marthaville.

 

After Eddie got to Mansfield, Omie received a letter from him. When she read it, she threw it into the fire and was angry. Until then, she had let me read her love letters from him and he did write good letters. After a few days, I received a letter from him saying he was in love with me! I did not answer, because I felt guilty about coming between Omie and him. I did send him a Christmas card at Christmas. At that time the greeting was a postcard with no envelope. Soon a letter came from him asking if he could come to see me. This caused the Coopers to ask me to move. Their excuse was that they had a relative coming to live with them and they needed the room. I found a room with the Rains Family who were friends of ours.

 

I wrote to Eddie and gave him permission to come to see me. He sent a telegram that he would be there on Sunday. We sat in the parlor with the door open, as it wasn't proper for a girl to be in a room with a man and have the door closed. After a while, we heard footsteps coming down the hall. It was Omie and a girl friend. I was embarrassed. They stopped at the door and spoke in an unfriendly way, gave us hard looks and left. I must admit that I wasn't very comfortable but it didn't bother Eddie.

 

I had never dated except in a group and only school boys. But I had always had my eye on some boy or another since first grade. Eddie was a man, 22 years old, and I was only 16. He was very attentive and good to me, sending me candy, books, telegrams and letters, and he came to visit every Sunday. I liked him.

 

A boy in my class and I had liked each other before I started dating Eddie. This boy was from Shreveport, Louisiana, and was staying with his uncle and going to school. He was French and very possessive and jealous. He neglected his studies (because I was dating another) until his uncle sent him home.

 

When I went back home and told my parents about being in love, Papa forbade me having anything more to do with Eddie, including writing to him, because I was too young. The postmaster, Marvin Wright, was a friend of Eddie's and we managed to send letters through him. He kept my letters from Eddie and gave them to me secretly. My sister, Vera, took my letters to the post office and mailed them for me. This continued for awhile until Papa found out; I guess I was careless. He was angry with Marvin and said he had thought that he was a friend of his. But as we've heard "Everybody likes lovers." Marvin was our friend. Finally Papa agreed to let me invite Eddie to the house. The next Sunday, he came on the train. He met my parents and made a good impression.

 

Papa sent my brother Ed to Pleasent Hill to find out about the Prothros (I didn't know this until years later). Ed must have brought back a good report because there were no further objections to Eddie. The Prothros were good people. Eddie had four brothers and sisters: Louis, Essie, Leslie and Alma.

 

At the time we were living in a nice house in Galbraith built for the manager. His family did not live at Galbraith. One day my sister, Elsie, was playing with matches in the plunder room, where extra beds, quilts, clothes, and furniture was stored. She started a fire and ran out. Before we knew it, all that side of the house was burning. All my clothes and my hope chest with quilts and linens burned. A few pieces of furniture, including the parlor furniture, were saved. We moved to two small houses. By then our family included Edward, Eva, Vera, Tommy, William (Bill), James Warren (Doug), Elsie, and myself.

 

Eddie came every Sunday to see me. He wanted to hire a horse and buggy for me to go riding. Papa wouldn't allow it. We would go out walking and Mama sent my brother Bill along as a chaperon. Eddie didn't like that. One Sunday he brought a box of candy for Bill and when we started out gave him the candy to keep him busy while we were gone. We had not gone far when we heard Bill running to catch up. When we asked what he did with his candy, he said he had hidden it under the iron wash pot in the yard. The other children searched everywhere for it but never found it.

 

We decided we wanted to get married and Eddie asked Papa if we could, as we knew we loved each other. Papa said I was too young and that he wanted me to go to college, then help send the next sibling to college when I got a job. This was the proper way to do things in those days. I wasn't present, but Eddie persuaded him until he gave his consent. We were married June 9, 1912, after church services were over.

 

We left at four o'clock on the train for Mansfield where Eddie was now working as a telegraph operator from midnight to 8:00 am. Friends went to see us off at the station and carried my suitcase and a trunk with them to the station. It was time for the train to arrive and I couldn't find my suitcase. They brought it to us after the train arrived and they had decorated it with pasted-on signs and all kinds of silly things attached to it such as safety pins, etc. We were embarrassed to take that luggage onto the train. They showered us with rice. The passengers on the train joined in the hilarity. We had planned to act like old married people as we didn't want to be the center of attention.

 

When we passed through Pleasant Hill, there were others at the train station. Both of the Prothros were there to meet their new daughter-in-law and so were Eddie's friends. When the train stopped at Mansfield, we were greeted by more of Eddie's friends. We hurried to a taxi, my first ride in an automobile. We had reservations at a big hotel and spent our honeymoon there.

 

We rented a two bedroom house and bought furniture for it. Eddie's mother gave us a hen and some little chickens. O, how happy we were! We were in love and life was great. After a few months, Eddie applied for a job as a station agent as he thought he would have a better chance at a promotion. Our first job was at Victoria where he was express agent too.

 

This was a wonderful time. Our first son was born June 3, 1913, a fine healthy boy we named Randolph Davis, for my father and Eddie's father. He was the first grandchild in both families and we all were so proud of him. It was the custom to call boys by initials, as R.D. has always been called.

 

We moved to Robeline, where Eddie had a better job. This was a good place to live, and the churches and schools were good. We bought our first home with three large rooms, a front porch and a porch on one side. It had shade trees across the front and side. We added a hall and a large livingroom and bathroom. Life was good.

 

One time, when R.D. was two he was at our neighbor’s, Dr. and Mrs. Merrel. I went to the market and Mrs. Merrel asked if R.D. could stay with her (the market was only a block from our house). When I came back, Mrs. Merrel had R.D. in her arms. She told me to hurry, that he had fallen on a flower pot and bit his tongue most in two.

 

When he opened his mouth, his tongue fell out on his chin. It was just terrible. I phoned Eddie and he got the doctor from Shamrock and Dr. Merrel to come. They were there in a few minutes and boiled their instruments and laid R.D. on a sheet on the kitchen table and sewed his tongue back together. It was something we could not imagine, anyone without a tongue. Eddie and I walked back and forth across the porch praying while they sewed his tongue. The doctors were afraid it would not heal before the stitches dissolved. We boiled milk and water and gave it to him in a spoon. It did heal. He still has the scars but it did not affect his speech.

 

The Ku Klux Klan became active after World War I. They had a meeting at Natchitoches and hundreds of people attended. We were there for the spectacle and it was unbelievable to see the hooded white robed figures. They made speeches, burned a cross and tried to enlist members. We were not interested. One day Eddie found an application on his desk for him to sign up as a member. He threw it in the wastebasket and ignored it. Most of the other businessmen joined and it was said that those who refused would be punished.

 

My grandfather McClain came to visit us from Texas and he said if the Klansmen should come to visit him, people would find out who they were even though they had their faces covered because he would shoot them before they got to him. My father did not join either and after a few years this activity died down.

 

My sister, Eva, died at only 21 years old and was buried at Robeline. My father died the same year. This was our first sadness.

 

On December 11, 1919, a welcome eight pound boy that we named, Edwin Terry (Terry for my family name) was born. He had his father's initials, but he was not a junior. We called him Terry. It was a merry Christmas, Terry's first. Eddie and R.D. went to the woods and cut down a big pine tree and put it in the hall.

 

On Christmas Eve we got out our decorations and trimmed the tree. I sat in a rocking chair with Terry on my lap and gave directions and trimmed the tree. When they had finished, we thought it was the most beautiful tree we had ever had, so colorful, with shiny balls, drapes of gold tinsel rope and tiny red candles in holders clipped to the branches. Early the next morning Eddie lighted all the candles and called us to come see. We were the happy family that people called us.

 

We bought our first car, a Model A Ford. On Sunday afternoons we always went driving. Mama moved to Mansfield after Papa died. Eddie's parents lived at Pleasant Hill and we visited them often and enjoyed going to Natchitoches to shop and go to the movies. I wanted to learn to drive but found it difficult. There were so many things to remember to do at the same time, which foot on what pedal, hands adjusting the spark plugs, etc. Eddie lost his patience trying to teach me and got a neighbor, Earl Cook, to take over. He didn't think I was stupid.

 

We were eagerly looking forward to our third child and prepared for a girl. But when son number three arrived on April 15, 1922 we rejoiced and decided we didn't want a girl anyway. We named him James Warren for my grandfather James Artis McClain and grandfather Sanford Warren Terry. We called him Jimmy.

 

The Dallas, Texas, office called Eddie to interview him for a job as traveling auditor. This was what

he had looked forward to. He was appointed auditor and given the territory in South Louisiana. The

years were busy, happy years for us and as I look back, I wonder where they went. The years passed too quickly.

 

In 1959, Eddie retired after 50 years of working for the Texas and Pacific Railway. I shall not quote Robert Browning, but truly these were the best years. We both were in good health, had good friends and a very active social life. It was such a shock on Sunday morning, March 2, 1969, when my beloved husband did not wake up. After 57 years of marriage, I remember feeling like I couldn't live without him. I grieved and cried for several months. He was a great man and I am so grateful that I was fortunate enough to have been his wife all those happy years. It is a wonderful heritage he left his children, grandchildren and future generations.

 

Editor's note: The same can be said about my grandmother, who died in 1979. I am extremely

grateful that she left us this written legacy of her life.

 

U S Legacies Magazine