This site is dedicated to the man who made all of this possible for us: Glen C. Smith 1937-2002
NOTE: THIS SITE IS EXTREMELY GRAPHIC INTENSE. THE PHOTOS MAY LOAD EVER SO SLOWLY ON A DIAL-UP CONNECTION.SOME OF THE
PAGES HAVE MUSIC, SO TURN UP YOUR VOLUME!
THERE WILL BE NO FURTHER UPDATES TO THIS SITE AFTER JULY 31, 2009. TRIPOD IS SUSPENDING IT'S FREE VERSION OF THEIR SITEBUILDER,
SO I WILL BE UNABLE TO ACCESS MY SITE AFTER THAT DATE. HOWEVER, THE SITE WILL REMAIN ONLINE,
THE POOR QUALITY OF SOME OF THE PHOTOS IS DUE TO CHEAP CAMERAS (NO DIGITAL CAMERAS BACK THEN!) AND/OR FILM
OR BECAUSE THE PICTURES ARE OLD.
I created this website as a Christmas gift to my children and a legacy for my children's children. I wanted
to give them a piece of the happiest days of their lives - in the place where they grew up.
Though our memories can help sustain us when all else may seem lost, it's good for the soul to go back in
time through photos, old letters, and favorite stories. It can bring a certain peace to the heart.
This websire - this story in words and pictures - may not mean much to others out there in cyberspace, but
it does to me and mine.
And that's what it's all for.
******
Old tin roof
Leaves in the gutter
Hole in the screen door big as your fist
And flies on the butter
Momma's bakin' sugar cookies
We were watching cartoons
I heard her holler from the kitchen
Which
one of you youngins wants to lick the spoon
Yellow jackets on the watermelon
Honeysuckle in the air
Daddy turnin on the sprinkler
Us kids runnin'
through it in our underwear
Old dog nappin' on the front porch
He's there just a twitchin'
I fell asleep on Grand-daddy's lap
To
the sound of his pocket watch tickin'
It doesn't seem like it was all that long ago
You can dream about it every now and then
But you can't
go home again
My best friend Jenny
Set up a back yard camp
Stole one of Momma's mason jars
Poured coal in the
linen and made a firefly nest
Me and Danny Monroe
Sneakin' down by the river
And I'm still haunted by the taste of the kiss
I
was too scared to give him
It doesn't seem like it was all that long ago
You can dream about it every now and then
But you can't
go home again
There's a black top road
A faded yellow center line
It can take you back to the place
But it can't
take you back in time.
It doesn't seem like it was all that long ago
You can dream about it every now and then
But you can't
go home again
Old tin roof
Leaves in the gutter
A hole in the screen door big as your fist
And flies on the butter.
Sung by Wynonna Judd
