One brisk October day, Mamma headed across the yard towards the outhouse. About halfway there, she realized that was not her need. She made a turn and headed across the street, calling, “Uncle Doctor!” Daddy’s sister, Aunt Martha, was married to Dr. Franklin Pickett. He was the main doctor in our little town, and lived in the big two-story house made of hand-poured concrete blocks shaped to look like stones. Uncle Doctor met Mamma at the door and helped her onto the kitchen table, which doubled as an exam table, a surgery table, a delivery table, or whatever else was needed. A short time later, I made my appearance. Mamma and Daddy named me Carolyn.
I was a plump little girl. Then one year I got sick. I had the measles and also had pneumonia. They thought I was going to die, but I pulled through. After that I was a skinny little thing and tended to be sickly. One fall, when I got the first cold and had trouble breathing, the doctor said, “Take her to Florida.” Daddy was a traveling salesman, and the whole Southeast was his territory, so he could live anywhere in that territory. From then on, we moved twice each year. We spent the winter near the beach, often in Miami, and we spent the summer in the mountains.