Fred Lee Cain was the oldest child of Mary Lou Belle and Alan Cain. Fred was born 31 Jul 1887 in Arkansas (Editor’s note: Johnston County AR is believed to be the place of birth). He married Clara Evelyn Herring 15 Apr 1906 at Dublin AR. They had ten children, eight living to adulthood. Fred passed away 24 Oct 1976, Clara 3 Jan 1978 and both are buried at Gladewater TX. Their children: Delmar Ray, Rosie Myrtle, Elmer Fay, Buford Lee, James William, Irma Imogene, Fred Burris, Charles Monroe, Clara Earlene and Herbert Irron Cain. Rosie and Clara died as children. Four sons served their country in World War II; Charles Monroe was killed 22 Aug 1944 when the bomber on which he was flying was lost over Hungary – he was 21 years old.

Fred worked in many fields of endeavor during his life. He was a railroad engineer on the Arkansas Central Railroads, owned and operated a ferry on the Arkansas River at Morrison Bluff, farmed in the Spadra bottoms at the beginning of World War I, and spent 32 years working in the oil fields for Texaco.

I am the oldest grandson of Fred and Clara Cain, whom I called “grandpa” and “grandma.” My dad Ray (Delmar Ray), was their oldest son. Although I was born in Arkansas, I only remember stories of living on the Cook lease in Norphlet. My memories of grandpa start when he and grandma were living on the Texaco Stenchcomb lease near the small community of Seven Pines in Upshur County, Texas. Grandpa was the pumper on the lease and remained in that job until he retired.

We lived about five miles away on a small farm near Gladewater. Occasionally, I would go and spend the day with grandpa and grandma. If I was lucky, I would get there in time to have some of grandma’s biscuits, which after all of these years are still the best I have ever tasted. Of course, they were homemade, about 3½ inches across, light and flaky and would melt in your mouth. I had mine with strawberry preserves, but grandpa would have his with a generous portion of ribbon cane syrup in which he had mixed with a slab of butter. Grandpa liked to eat and he ate whatever he wanted, without ill effects until his death.

I might get to go with grandpa on his “rounds.” That included going upon the tank battery to check the level of the oil in the tanks. Grandpa would go up the metal ladder steps without holding the handrail and try to get me to do the same. He would tell me that Ole Pudge, his birddog, didn’t have to hold on to the rail so why should I. It didn’t work!

Grandpa could walk to some of the wells, but others were farther away. He had an old DeSoto, which he used as a work car. It had old cloth seats, a stick shift, and a trunk full of his tools and shredded cloth called “waste” which he used for wiping his hands. The roads to the wells were gravel and, in addition to the wooden bridges which crossed the small creeks, they were crossed by iron culverts through which the rod lines passed which gave power to some of the wells. Grandpa, at least when I was with him, didn’t like to drive slow. As a consequence, a trip with him to the wells was like riding a roller coaster. I am sure there were times when there were definitely less than four wheels of that old DeSoto on the ground. The less breath that I had the more he liked it.

Grandpa never gave me a spanking, but he came awfully close. One day when Mother and Dad let me spend the night, I showed signs of early stubbornness, which still chronically appears. My Uncle Herbert was still living at home. He had a date and for some unknown reason to me at the time, did not care to take me along with him. When grandpa tried to reason with me and tell me that I couldn’t go, I told him that yes I could. I emphasized the point by kicking him in the shin. I didn’t go on the date and barely escaped the belt.

Grandpa loved to fox hunt with my dad. I think that grandpa had infected my dad in Arkansas, and dad returned the favor after they both got to Texas. I thought that it sounded like a lot of fun – sitting around a campfire, cooking out and listening to the voices of the hounds as they ran the fox – but, I always fell asleep after eating and before the action got hot. Grandpa didn’t own any dogs but he loved to go and hear Lemon and Crickett (two of dad’s dogs) run a fox.

Before my dad overfished me after he retired, I enjoyed going fishing with dad and grandpa. I usually fished with dad in his boat and grandpa fished in his own. But on one occasion I left dad. We were fishing on Caddo lake and grandpa seemed to be catching a lot more fish than we were. While we were eating lunch with both boats together, I eased over into grandpa’s boat. I fished with him for the rest of the day and caught more than my share of pike. Dad never let me forget it and grandpa didn’t let dad forget it.

When grandpa died the grandsons were his pallbearers. We all loved grandpa and enjoyed his company. Of course, my dad who had always been close to his parents suffered the most. I tried to comfort him as well as I could, but I will never forget what he told me. With tears in his eyes he looked at me and said, “I just lost the best friend that I ever had.” At the time I was startled to hear him say that since I had always been very close to my dad. But as time goes by I think that I understand what he meant. A loving father is always the best friend that a son can have.

By: Delmar Lee Cain (Grandson)

When I reflect on memories of my grandfather I always think of a huge man, six feet two or three. Remember this was from the eyes of a child. He never seemed to get tired of playing. We used to go bear hunting. There we were down on our bellies shooting with a BB guns at that most dangerous of North American big game, the grizzly, which at that time were Pet milk cans. We did this time after time. He always had time for me for example he made a kite for me. He never owned a store bought kite in his life but he could make one that flew and flew. It seemed to fly so high that it was just a speck. Gave us trouble at first but we slipped some cloth out of Mother's sewing basket, got the tail adjusted and brother it flew out of sight.

Granddad saved my life twice. Once when I let the fishing line on my daddy's new spinning reel get in a knot that I swear was the size of a basketball. Granddad was visiting us at the time and he and I spent several hours with me holding the reel and winding up the slack as he worked the knots out of this huge wad of line. I'll never forget the relief as the very last kink came out of that line and I wound it back on the reel safe and sound. My daddy drove up from work just as we finished and he had no idea of the disaster just averted. I fish a lot today and I still wonder at the patience it took to unravel that mess. The second time was when he took me fox hunting. I guess I was about eight or nine at the time. I went to sleep around a bonfire. I went to sleep and the men moved down the road a piece to better hear the race. My older cousin Delmar woke up, realized what was happening and took a light and followed their tracks down the road. I woke up, started down the road in the dark but I went the wrong way. Not too long afterward I saw the lights of a truck coming (it seems like hours). Granddad got out, and boy, I don't know who was the happiest, me for my granddad finding me, or him when he found his lost grandson. I also remember that instead of riding back to the other men in the truck he and I walked back together with him just talking about the hunt and one thing or another. When I think of a soft autumn evening I think of that night. No fear because I was now safe with my granddad.

He could fix anything. He made me a trap out of split boards with not one nail in it. He whittled the trigger out of four pieces of board that you could set and it worked. He could weave a hoop net with a homemade hickory needle and my uncles used that net for years. Cookies tasted better, milk was colder and ice cream was always best at Granddad and Grandmother's house.

The only time I grieve about was one Sunday when I went to Sunday school with my cousin James and Granddad asked me to meet him after and sit with him in church. I decided to go home with James and play and when Granddad got home from church all he said was that he found the bible he loaned me in his car but no buddy to sit in church with. Boy I wish I had done it differently.

By: Charles Braden (Grandson)

Uncle Fred was my mother’s oldest brother and the only one of her brothers that I ever knew. Her other brothers passed away before I was born.

Our home was never located in the same area as Uncle Fred’s. In my years of growing up until I was about eleven or twelve, my Mom always took us to visit with Uncle Fred and Aunt Clara; we would stay about a week. There was always a lot of food on the table at mealtime and the house was always spotless. Aunt Clara had trained her children to do their chores; they each had their own duty and knew what was expected. At breakfast time, all of the boys would be in the kitchen helping her where there was always laughter and talking. Before coming to the kitchen, they had already cleaned their rooms and the house looked nice. I believe there were seven boys and one girl.

Uncle Fred was tall and handsome in my eyes. He had a stern way about him, but at the same time, he was kind. He always made me feel loved and comfortable. I looked forward to our visits in their home with great anticipation. They definitely had a place in my memories as a child.

By: Melba Ruth Ward Dupree (Niece)

My memories of Uncle Fred and Aunt Clara go back to my younger years when Mom took us to visit them in the summer. I always enjoyed playing with their younger boys, “Snooks” and “Snookum,” also sometimes “Son” (Fred) and Bill would play with us some when they were not working.

I remember Aunt Clara was always cooking and cleaning the house to take care of her guests. I had an upset stomach one time when we were there and she cooked something special for me.

Uncle Fred was always special to me. I was scooting across the porch and got a splinter so deep they couldn’t get it out with a needle or his knife. He picked me up and carried me to the doctor to get it removed. After the doctor took care of me he picked me up again and on the way back he stopped and got me some ice cream. He had to walk both ways and was so kind to me. I’ve never forgotten how good he was to me. Most likely I bragged about the ice cream to the other kids because they didn’t get any ice cream—now why would I do a thing like that?

I didn’t get to see any of their family in the later years except for one time I took Mom and Pop (May and Elmer Ward) to see them when they were in a nursing home. It makes me feel sad that we were not able to be close to them in their later years.

By: Margaret Lee Ward (Niece)

I remember Uncle Fred visiting us in our home in Cotton Valley twice when I was growing up. Two memories stuck out in my mind. One of those was that he was tall. During my growing up and afterward, I seemed to always be partial to tall men, I suppose because there were several tall men in my family, Uncle Fred being one of them.

Another memory is the time when he was visiting us there were foxhunters who had their dogs on an evening hunt. Uncle Fred stepped out on the back steps so he could hear the dogs on their chase. This seemed to be something that he really enjoyed.

Although I only remember Uncle Fred visiting us twice, I loved him so much and was so glad that he came to visit us. I wish we could have been closer to his family.

By: Linda Sue Hilburn (Niece)