I’ve written about my mother’s family to some extent, but my children may be interested in more, at least their names.  Granddaddy was Francis Marion Wells.  The name sounded to me like a woman’s name, but not so.  Grandma was Octavia Watkins Cousins Wells, called Tave by her husband.  Momma whose name was Ivo Onolia had two sisters, Idyle Faire and Odette.  Everyone knew Idyle as Tump, a name derived from her attempts to repeat “Sugarlump” as someone called the sweet little child.  Odette was called simply “Ode”.  Of Momma’s four brothers, Claude was the firstborn.  I knew little of him except from an early visit at which I met his wife, Virgie, and a couple of cousins.  Next in line was Clyde whose birth name was Lionel Clyde but became Clyde Lionel when he joined the Army.  See what can happen by going by a middle name?  The Army changed him to Clyde Lionel.  Momma’s younger brothers were called Kyle and Lonnie, who was known as Jack by his friends.  Kyle Vaugntus (I guessed at the spelling) and Leonodus Augustus Cousins were their real names.  Surely these sound like strange names for the most part.  Grandma must have named them.  She did a lot of reading. 

Uncle Lonnie was a teenager when I knew him.  He tended to be a bit ornery, as some of his age seem to be.  He liked to tease me.  I remember that later on he liked to borrow Tump’s car to go courting.  He was a persuasive guy.  He usually got what he wanted including Marie, whom he married. 

Uncle Kyle who never married seemed to be the odd one of the bunch.  He would finish his chores and head for town a mile away.  He came home for lunch and went back to town until suppertime.  After supper he would sometimes go back to town for a while.  There was nothing in town to do except to sit with the bunch of guys and talk and whittle.  Tump called it loafing.  Sometimes Kyle would leave home for a year or two and then come back to resume his old routine.  I later found out that he left to find a job in the Norfolk shipyards.  He saved his money until he had enough to last him a while.  When he ran short of money he would leave again for a while.  I never got to know him very well. 

Aunt Odette insisted that I call her Aunt.  When I was first aware of her she was a young schoolteacher living at home.  I amusing myself by watching her tend the flowers at Granddaddy’s one day when I saw a little rabbit in the yard.  He was very young and looked so soft and cuddly that I wanted to pick him up but he ran away across the road.  Aunt Odette saw my disappointed look, shed her shoes and took out after it.  The rabbit ran into the cornfield across the road.  She followed it for a way and soon came back with her prize that she handed me.  I satisfied myself by holding the little fellow and caressing him for a while.  She finally convinced me that he was a wild thing and could not be made into a pet.  It was fun while it lasted.  Aunt Odette was never around much after that.  She got married and moved away. 

Tump never insisted that I call her “Aunt”.  She was my favorite of Momma’s siblings.  Tump treated me as her own child, only better.  Most people called me Ralph Donald but Tump preferred Donald whom I became.  Tump was a life long schoolteacher and never married.  As a teenager I liked to visit her.  She was an interesting person to be around.  She took me to places around the area where I was born and acquainted me with cousins and many of her friends. 

After my family moved to Kentucky and left me with my grandparents to finish third grade they rented our house to Uncle Clyde.  He had married Mattie who had a daughter.  They had no other children.  The house was a short walk from Granddaddy’s place so I often visited Clyde, sometimes stopping there on my way from school.  My uncle and I became pretty good friends.  Since he had no son of his own perhaps I was a fair substitute.  We talked a lot and I learned a good bit from him.  He was a veteran of World War I but he seldom talked about that. Beyond the front of the house lay a ridge rising perhaps six or seven hundred feet to the summit.  The slope of the ridge had long before been cleared and used as pasture at one time while the top portion remained wooded. 

One fine autumn day Clyde and I set out on a little hike along the ridge to see what we could discover.  A slight breeze created waves in the grass that covered the slope.  A hundred yards into our trek we flushed out a rabbit that hopped along making a zigzag trail until he disappeared into a safe haven.  Farther along I saw what I thought was a cave.  Excitedly I ran up the hill to investigate, but was disappointed to find it was only an outcropping of rock too shallow to be a cave but an excellent place for snakes.  We came upon a beautiful beech tree that had somehow escaped the assault of the axe.  Its smooth light gray bark and its well-shaped limbs and foliage were a pleasing sight.  I picked up a handful of beechnuts from the ground and noted their unique triangular shape.  They were harder to shell than peanuts, but it was easy to crack them between my teeth and get to tasty morsels inside. 

We continued up the ridge into the wooded area near the summit where we strolled along through fallen leaves and wild asters.  Occasionally we came to a log in our pathway.  Uncle warned me to never step over a log without first making sure that no copperhead lay on the other side. 

The woods gave way to an opening where a lone tree stood.  Looking up I could see fruit hanging from its branches and some on the ground.  I picked one up and tasted it.  It was like a drawstring in my lips was pulled tight and tied.  Persimmons my uncle informed me; no good until after a heavy frost. 

We had crossed the top of the ridge and moving down the other side a way a wide valley came into view.  The dominant sight in the valley was of all things, my schoolhouse.  Needless to say I was surprised to see the school.  Ah, a shortcut to school was the thought that ran through my mind until we came a little closer and I looked down.  Almost straight down I saw a little river at the edge of the steep cliff.  Well, so much for the shortcut, I could never get down that way.  As we make our way back to the house I marveled at what a great time I’d had on our walk.  I was especially pleased that Clyde promised that we would go back and gather some persimmons after the frost.  Here was my favorite uncle.