During the Fifties, many religious revivals were held in large tents. I attended one and especially remember the heat and the mosquitoes and someone walking who had been crippled. The speaker asked for donations. He claimed if we didn't give our money to his ministry, "the Lord would come and take your purse away". That statement must have had a profound effect on me. For months afterward, I used all of my allowance to buy purses at Woolworth's.
Daddy and I left for St. Louis, right after my "tacky" birthday party (the guests were asked to dress in an unusual manner). The two of us rode in our green piano truck with Clayton Smith Pianos painted in big black letters on each side. The purpose of the trip was to purchase used upright pianos to repair and sell in the store. At night, we parked along the highway and slept in the back of the truck. Since I had never traveled beyond the Gulf Coast, the hilly terrain we encountered was a huge surprise. Daddy let me eat french fries at every meal the entire trip.
My parents and I took a leisurely, but guarded walk on a country road in Louisiana. We knew to be cautious of creatures that "came out" at night; however, were shocked when an armadillo darted out of the bushes and ran up Mother's leg! Mother screamed, the surprised armadillo quickly ran back down her leg, and disappeared into the bushes. This was my only walk in the dark on a country road in Louisiana.