The following is written by Jennifer Killby, a granddaughter of Cleopatra Harvey. The story is about visits with her Aunt Mary:
Aunt Mary was married to my Uncle Bum (I can't remember his full name). I believe she was 13 when they married. My aunt stated that she remembers Cecil Pack (our grandmother) saying she was angry at Uncle Bum for wanting to marry her at a young age. Aunt Mary spent lots of time at Cecil's home prior to their marriage and I believe that's how he met her. Cecil told him to let her grow up to be a woman, but he didn't and they married. My aunt stated all of Aunt Mary's daughters were post masters also until they retired.
I remember being really afraid of going to Aunt Mary's because my grandfather scared my sister and I to death about copperheads and rattlesnakes and we had to use the outhouse to go to the bathroom at her house. Of course, being the jokester my grandfather always was, he made sure we were good and scared when we had to use the facilities. I also remember the dog she had that would always be under the porch when we arrived. For the life of me, I can't remember its name. Aunt Mary always kept a picture of my grandmother's first marriage sitting out. And it wasn't til years later that we found out who the man was. I know he only lived a week after my grandmother had married him. She always had something cooked, but I remember the pies. She always seemed to have pies. She made my grandfather mince meat, my grandmother and sister a cream pie - usually banana or chocolate. And for some reason she always made me applesauce pie. I didn't like applesauce pie and always complained to my grandmother who made me eat the applesauce pie so not to hurt Aunt Mary's feelings. I forced it down, dreading every bite of it. Now, I miss those pies and have made applesauce pies to remember those days. No one seems to know what I'm talking about when I ask them about an applesauce pie or say they never heard of such a thing. When my grandmother sat and talked with Aunt Mary, my grandfather would walk us down to her friend (or relative - I can't remember) who lived in a one room house just a little bit down the road and we would visit her for a while. She was such a sweet lady. I liked visiting her. Every generation have had their pictures taken in front of the the postal house she has in the front yard. I didn't get to see Aunt Mary in the 90's. I last saw her in the 80's.