By Evelyn Howell Sapp
For a period of time in the 1920s, there were no Rices living in Ricetown. Sallie F. Frye and Lou Rice Howell were living at Blount Springs, and “Uncle Rabbit” in the Uncle Remus stories had come back to the “Briar Patch.” The Fryes and Howells moved back to the farm.
We, the Howells, moved back in 1933. I cannot give a day-to-day account of the years from that time until the present, but I can summarize a brief history by comparing life then and now. The lifestyle of all concerned has made a drastic change.
During the 1930s, we had no paved roads, telephones, or running water, except the “spout spring,” which had enough water for all of us if we had a way to pipe it to the houses. Electricity was brought into the community in the late 1930s, and in time we acquired telephones, city water, paved roads, and other things that have made life easier. Everybody used coal and wood for heat. We cooked on wood stoves, and these also helped heat part of the house. Most of the people raised and preserved a greater part of their food at home. They had chickens, cows, hogs, and large gardens, as well as fruit trees. It was a common thing to see towels spread on tin roofs with apples drying to be used in the winter.
My dad carried the mail from Blount Springs and pastored country churches. Mr. John Reid was the postmaster. Marvin Cox and Sam Cox drove the school buses. The children went to Mountain Brook to elementary school. The first school had been at Ricetown Church, then moved to Blount Springs. As the churches moved, so did the schools. Finally, the school was moved to Sulphur Springs, and they built a school just for that purpose. In later years, the schools were consolidated with others at Hayden, Alabama. When we were ready for junior and senior high school, we had to go to Cullman or Hanceville. When my brother started school, Hayden had become an accredited school, so he finished high school there.
Every Friday on the farm, we swept the yards. In the fall, the leaves were deep. We had to burn large piles of them. On the south side of the house, Mother had pretty beds of flowers. I look back now and wonder how she managed to do this because everything was done the “hard way,” and she had a large family.
My grandmother Howell came and spent the last few years of her life with us. My dad built a room and back porch for her on the back of our house.
We had a large cellar under the house and, in the early fall, started filling it for winter. In one corner was a sand bed for potatoes, and in another was an apple barrel. We had a tree of fall apples, and we wrapped each one in torn newspaper. On winter nights, we sat by the fire and ate the mellow fruit.
My mother had crocks of kraut, cucumbers, pickles, and jars of canned fruit and berries. We had smoked ham and bacon in the smokehouse, chickens and cows, so we were never hungry. We did work hard.
We had no telephones, but the dinner bell at Uncle Preston’s would ring each day to tell the farm hands when it was time to eat. If it rang any other time of day, it was a signal for help, and people came running.
We were happy with our way of life because we did not know any other. We had preaching once a month in the one-room Ricetown School House.
Around the turn of the century, Blount Springs was a very popular resort town. People came from near and far to drink the sulphur water for their health, enjoy the good Southern food, and enjoy the social life of music and dancing.
People began moving closer to Ricetown, and the cemetery was expanding. My Uncle Preston had died. Sam Frye, my brother-in-law, bought his property and moved into the house. His daughter, Nettie Lou Frye, and his daughter, Lillie Belle Gibbs, live there today, 1991, and give a warm welcome to people visiting the cemetery. Relatives come from distant states and like the way the cemetery has been kept up.
Sam Frye became concerned about people having to stand outside in all sorts of weather for a funeral, and he said that a chapel should be built. The idea caught on and spread fast. Plans had to be made, and funds had to be collected. Volunteers moved right in and helped. Lou Rice Howell came to my house for a donation. Sam gave hours to the project and enjoyed it.
My father, Jake, died in 1927, the last one of the four to go. He was buried along with his brothers on the land they pioneered and loved.
This history is dedicated to their memory, and also to Sam Frye, who built the chapel.
Around 1949, the leaders of the Ricetown community appointed a committee and planned a chapel. It was made of blocks and built in 1951. They used the old bell from Ricetown Church, which had rung on Sunday mornings and tolled to notify everyone of deaths through the years. The committee also got some benches made, and Mrs. Nettie Rice Merrill donated a piano. Marvin Cox, who was taking care of the grounds, asked that Decoration Day be made an all-day program. Since then, we have met all day every fourth Sunday in May.
In 1980, the people contributed and voted to have brick walls added to our chapel. Volunteers worked for several days under the leadership of Bud Barber and James Reid. Bud was a brick mason by trade and donated his time and expertise to the project. He is a descendant of Henry Sanders. Bud Barber’s wife was from the Reid family. The ladies of the community carried lunch and served the workers. Before this time, tables had been built under the trees, and Mr. B. M. Ogletree also had built a beautiful pulpit for the chapel.
The members of the committee who have served for several years are Nettie Lou Frye, Evelyn Howell Sapp, Marvin Cox, Mae Frye Dooley, Gene Sawyer, and Cranston Cox.
Mr. Horace Dooley served as Decoration service leader after Rev. Mac Howell’s death. He lost Mr. Dooley, and Robert Gardner, who also served. At the present time, Tim Frye and Bertis Russell are in charge of the singing.
Marvin Cox kept the grounds for a number of years. At the present time, the family are the caretakers.
Some of the Rice relatives still live in the area. Many newcomers love Ricetown and help in the upkeep of the cemetery, as well as on our Memorial Day. Ricetown is now their community, too.