My mother grew up on a farm in Eastern North Carolina during the Great Depression and as a youngster I used to occasionally hear her mention a farmer she used to know named Seth Henry Isaac Tyson. The name struck me as unusual but I made nothing of it.
Many years later, one Sunday afternoon we were riding around the back roads of my mom's girlhood when she pointed to a mailbox and exclaimed with glee, "It's HIM! Seth Henry Isaac Tyson!", and then I understood. His mailbox only had room for his initials.
-- Dalton Hammond
Saturday, February 12, 2011
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