Eva May Haddock Connors was born in 1891, on the Haddock Farm at Kings Ferry, Nassau County, Florida. She was the sixth of eleven children born to Rufus Goldwire Haddock and Mary Jane Vanzant Haddock.
Grandpa Rufus, she would tell us, “planted corn and sweet potatoes and sugar cane. He also had a large vegetable garden and grew every kind of vegetable you might want,” Grandma told us during those shelling sessions. She also told us about her brothers and sisters: Mary Jane Haddock Campbell, Zona Haddock Walker, Zack Haddock, Bill Haddock, Jennie Haddock Rowe, Paul Goldwire Haddock, Harley Haddock, and David Miller Haddock.
The Haddock children helped their father and mother raise cattle, sheep and hogs, plus grow the vegetables they needed. Money was not that much of a necessity, Eva’s niece Wilma Walker remembered.
“Farmers could almost survive on the fruits of the land. Poverty was unknown,” Walker recalled. “A good livelihood was a way of life. Wealth was measured, more or less, by tangible holdings, not dollars in the bank. If they were poor, they were not aware of it. It was a good time to go barefoot, she remembered.
“There were horses to ride, trees to climb and wild grape vines were used as trapeze wires. Fruits, especially the scuppernong grape, were for the picking, watermelon galore, fresh vegetables, milk and sweet butter. There was no need for summer camp. We had it there. Farmers worked hard, but it was a good, wholesome life, rewarding in many ways, an era and life style now erased by progress and covered by the sands of time.”
Zack and Eva seemed to have a special bond. Zack was eight years older than Eva. When she was about seven years old, the Haddock family was eating the heavy breakfast that farm families needed to “hold them” until lunch—biscuits and grits and bacon and eggs—“and like that to carry you through,” Grandma explained. Zack always like to eat syrup with his biscuit, and as Grandma related to me, “he laid a piece of sausage back to take the sweet taste out of his mouth…and I got Zack’s last piece of sausage. And until I got married, whenever I’d ask Zack for a favor, he’d say, “No, you ate my sausage!”
Zack’s “grudge” became a favorite family story. You’ll hear many more Mama stories or Grandma stories or Miss Eva stories today. It helps us share special times…and people.