Sunday, June 8th, 2014
When we moved in 1960 from Macon, Georgia to Rossville, Georgia one of our parting gifts had been a motion picture camera.
On every special occasion we used that camera. It worked well when Papa took off the lens cover but we got back several reels of dark, empty shots.
He’d get up at dawn to go fishing and it would be late, late afternoon when he’d return. I remember as a young bride pouting because he was gone so long fishing. To me the honeymoon was over. But not really. I soon wised up and never again interfered with his fishing gigs.
I loved being the wife of Claude Mason and the mother of Max and Alan.