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in his voice was enough, and a firm hand to us Lilly children was never needed. Although he probably could have, he never did.
I recall many summers helping in hay fields, apple and peach orchards, working to save our earnings to buy our school clothes and books; the salary wasn’t much back then to us kids, but was a big help to our dad, and to the Massie farm, he appreciated our help, and came to call on the kids’ help if needed, year after year.
I really feel good about knowing Mr. Massie, growing up on his farm getting hands-on experience in farming, and learning that it’s not an easy business and requires a lot of hard labor, long hours to do all that’s needed to be done in the time yoil have to do it in.
Mr. Massie was a man of great respect, a gentleman, also a friend, one I looked up to as a child, that still held true as an adult today.
When I drive past the old home place on U.S. 211 at Massies Comer; the farm where I was raised, he’ll enter my thoughts, and the thought of him standing by his mail box glancing through his copy of the Washington Post as he did all so many times, brings memories of yesteryear just as clear as today. He \vill be missed and thought of by a lot of people, even by the little kids who grew up there calling the farm “The Old Home Place.”
My deepest sympathy to his children, who I grew up with. p
BETTY M. LILLY-FURE
Remington
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