It was another sweltering-hot summer Sunday in Crane, Texas, in 1964, and we had just gotten home from morning worship service. I was 12 years old; my sister, Dollie Sue, was 14; and my brother, Norman, was 16. My dad, Cecil, like most every day, was at work in the oil field.
We were eager for lunch as my mom, Annie, always fried chicken on Sundays and made biscuits and gravy. We looked forward to this meal all week long. Mom always fixed Dad a big plate and
