Carrie Sims and Martha Adams (Scott) Martha Adams Scott (1901- 1979) loved all of her 15 children dearly. It was heartbreaking when her first child, Blakely Jr. (1920- 2004), left to attend school in Columbia. But, Martha was also haunted by a pain in her past and knew in her heart her son was being given a better chance than she had.

In a book by Bluff Road "Scott side" cousin, Brenda Clarkson Turpeau, entitled Almost Forgotten, there is a heart- wrenching account of how Carrie Sims (1878- 1907) died when her daughter, Martha Adams Scott, was six years old.

Carrie Sims bore four children for Jim Uriah Adams (1876- 1957) of the Adams plantation owners' line. The relationship was well- known and strong, but Martha felt that "Jim U" did not take care of her mother or the children as he should have. The rumor persists today that Carrie was slowly poisoned, possibly by someone in the big house, because Jim U. would not break off their relationship.

Losing a parent at such a young age is devastating, but for Martha there was always an insult to that injury. She always carried that pain.

James Uriah Adams I remember Gramma Martha lovingly preparing a meal for her husband, children, and grandchildren in that big bright kitchen off Highway 601. Gramma always smiled but sometimes there seemed to be sadness below the surface.

There was a new white electric stove on one wall and an old black, wood- burning iron stove on another wall of that kitchen. Martha once told me why she preferred to cook on the old stove by telling the story of how she had to climb on a box to prepare the last meal her mother ate on a stove like this. Martha lifted the tip of her apron and pretended to wipe her brow. Jim U. lived until 1957. He sometimes took young Blakely Jr., fishing and tried to make other amends.

Martha's life is reflected in how deeply she was loved by her husband, children, and grandchildren. It is gratifying she was able to overcome memories of poison in her past. Older family members hardly spoke of cross- racial relationships that existed. Martha may have been one of the rare exceptions.

"Big Mama," Charlotte Sumter Carter (b. 1855), had some special connection to the Hicks Chappell plantation in Hopkins. Four of her children had the surname Holley, and it was only discussed in code. These children were listed on the earlier census as Mulatto. A grandmother could discuss it with her sister and refer to these people as "friend girl" and "friend boy"…and only they knew of whom they were speaking. Sometimes they spoke of a child not resembling the father or other siblings, and one would hear them say, "There's a dead cat on the line."

Whatever the relationships were, all family members had common woes when the Depression came. Then some members of the extended family crossed color and family lines to help each other. Or, maybe the lines were only on the surface.

Rev. J.P. Neal Sr. (1902- 1997) spoke of being a teen and once seeing his grandfather Holley on a downtown Columbia street. Uncle J.P. spoke to him and was told, "Get away from me, boy!" Yet, it was OK to speak when at Big Mamma Charlotte's house in Hopkins.