Once upon a time a woman named Florence lived in a place called Bay Minette. She got married at 15 and had several children, 9 of them reaching adulthood, and the last of them born when she was 41. She then runnoft to Pensacola with a neighborman named Thomas, who had a wife and 8 kids of his own. Tom was 5 years younger than Florence.
About 5 years passed and Florence runnoft with another neighborman back to Bay Minette. Her new husband’s name was JT and he was also married with 4 children, the youngest of which had just died of cancer. Florence was 50; JT was 10 years younger.
Florence and JT ended up moving in next door to one of her former stepsons, the second son of Thomas. This son’s name was Leslie. As you might imagine, Leslie was not happy living next door to the woman who tore up his family twice, and one night Florence and Leslie got into an argument. JT went inside and got his gun and shot Leslie, killing him. JT dragged Leslie’s body out into the backyard and threw him in the bushes some 200 yards behind the house.
Six weeks later, Leslie’s body was found and the police hauled JT, Florence, and Leslie’s wife Flarie off to jail. JT admitted to killing Leslie, and the women were released. JT spent the rest of his life in jail and Florence never runnoft again. She and JT are buried side by side in Bay Minette.
And that is the story of how my great grandfather ended up dying in jail.
When JT’s first wife Bertha Pearl was abandoned, she ended up living next door to a woman who had also just divorced: my great-grandmother Ruby Mae. And THAT is how my grandmother Nita met my grandfather Jesse jr and had my mother Joyce. So I guess I’m here because some 50 year old woman still had it.
When You Wake Up It's a New Morning 
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