This is Bessie, I’m the third of Emilie and Halsey’s four daughters. I took most of the photos you will see today, [#2] including this one of brother Hal with his last load of corn.

You know, we Hallocks never threw anything away, not even words. We called this grassy area in front of our barn our “pightle” [pronounced PIE-kel]. That’s a word young folks of today are puzzled by. It’s spelled P-I-G- H-T-L-E. My Puritan ancestors brought that term over from the old country in the 17th century, and we still use it hee-aa on Sound Avenue. Bet you haven’t heard it anyplace else. Probably can’t even find it in your dictionary today!

That’s my brother Hal in the picture, driving out through the pightle with his last load of corn in 1925. It was kind of sad when he gave up farming – it was really a way of life we gave up – a life where we were self-sufficient in most everything we needed.

Now wander over towards the Homestead. Pa is waiting for you under the grove of trees.