This is Anna's great aunt Maude Wright (1895-1975) and Lem Q. Guffin (1887-1969) on their wedding day August 13, 1916.

Last year I got to know Lem's nephew Steve Guffin.   My mother-in-law had some pictures, documents, and notes she wanted to hand over to the Guffin family for genealogical purposes.  I knew my friend Paul Roper had some dealing with a Guffin, which was William Steve Guffin.  I called him and he told me his uncle was Lem.  He also told me his brother does family research and would love to have what I had.  It took two or three meetings.  One was at Piedmont Baptist Church, where Steve is a big worker.... also, in this process I learned that Steve was well known in the antique car restoring community.  One time I ran into him a at Brandi's Hotdogs at a men's prayer service.

I carried some stuff to him at the body shop he owns on Glover Street.

The property on Glover Street that his company is on was the home of a friend a couple of years older than I was in my preteen years, Jack.

Jack was a year or two behind in school and he was in my class one year at Waterman Street Grammar School and kept me in stitches giggling at the wisecracks he whispered.

One time on the corner of Glover Street and Manget, in the Rich's side yard were a bunch of us kids... the older kids who smoked and us younger kids, who wanted to be like them.  Somehow or another the older boys agged Eddie Nichols and I into a fight.  I remember I didn't want to fight and Eddie Nichols was believing every word they older boys said that I said about him, which was making him madder and madder.... Jack was a ring leader.  I think it was Jack who pushed Eddie into me, or me into Eddie - whichever it caused Eddie to start wildly swinging his arms at me.

Eddie Nichols was mentally challenged.  I should say he meant to swing with both fists, but one of his hands was busy.  He was sucking on the back of it.  Every time he got nervous Eddie sucked on the back of one of his hands.

I hit him in the nose and broke it;  blood went everywhere, it got all over him.  He ran home crying.

His adult sister, who was responsible for him, came looking for who ever broke Eddie's nose.  I had already went home. The boys that agged us into a fight acted like they had no idea a fight took place.

In time Eddie forgot about it.  Maybe a year later we were playing in the loft of Eddie's grandfather's barn.  One so-called friend reminded Eddie I was the one that broke his nose.

Suddenly, Eddie pounced on me choking me with an iron strong grip.  I could not breath.  I thought I was about to be killed.

However, in our scuffling in the loft we rolled over a sheet of plywood that was not nailed down.  When we got to end the plywood tilted and like a dumped truck dumped us to the floor of the barn.   I landed, rolled to my feet and took off running like a rabbit.  I suppose Eddie laid there sucking the back of his hand, wondering what happened.

One thing leads to another doesn't it?

By the way, I was told last year at the Bell Reunion that Eddie Nichols is in prison for murder.