We could see each other, just we couldn't play together. Just the way we was brought up. My twin sister had got burned up when we were somewhere around nine years old. The fire was on Calhoun's plan'ation. It was in the fall, cotton pickin time.
Mother get up around four in the mornin, fix breakfast, go to the field and pick cotton.
It was cold, and she told us to stay at the house. And she would come back and see about us. I went on with her. And the cotton stalks was dry. And it was cold.