The Little House or to others The Tin Shack

In the early days of the Angora Chronicles we had a lengthy discussion about “The Little House” as we always called it. It was the house my parents and older brother lived in when I was born. We lived there until August 1956, when the four of us moved down to Jollyville where Kenny started to school the next month.

This little shack set empty until our grandmother, Leona moved in it, probably in 1961 or 1962. Our Grandfather, Theron had died in the fall of 1958. Afterwards she could never return to living down in the “Old House” by herself. That was the home where they had resided most of their married life. She stayed some with us in Jollyville and some with Gordon and Mandy Lewis in Marble Falls for a couple of years.

Knowing Leona needed a place of her own, our dad Cecil went to work on the weekends fixing up the Little House for her. It didn’t have indoor plumbing so he built a lean-to on the side for a bathroom and to give her a larger kitchen.

In Cecil Lewis fashion, he made it livable by tar papering the exterior to seal it up from the cold, with the greatest of intentions to rock or brick it next. Many years later, the little tar papered shack set there beside the road. Cecil had moved on to more pressing matters.

The Little House had been in the Lewis family for many years. It had a one time served as a store, filling station and post office. During that time my great grandfather, FP Lewis was the Smithwick Postmaster. Several members of the family lived there throughout the depression and afterwards.

Luckily when reading the account I had written about The Little House, Clyde Lyda wrote about it and filled us in with some additional history. Below is a series of screen shots of the post made by Clyde about “The Tin Shack” and the comments that went along with it.

I am forever thankful to all those that have helped chronicle the past through this group. So much of our history would be lost forever without getting it from the people like Clyde and Ramona Lyda and Calvin Lewis, of which all three have left us within the past few months.

This demonstrates the importance of continuing to exchange these stories and help preserve some parts of history.

My Mother, Bonnie Gay Boultinghouse Lewis at “The Little House”

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