After the Storm

A tempest blew across the land —

it’s purpose to destroy

the life and home of one alone

enduring years of toil.

An eagle flying by looked down

and saw the wasted lot.

“My god, she’s dead!” the veteran said, 

then soared beyond the spoil.

The sun rose high and midnight rain

continued as before—

though eagle’s words were often heard,

she dreamed of something more.

A willow bending near the ground

whispered with the wind:

Press on, press on—you know you’re strong

She shuttered deep, and then

A live oak stands now on the land,

her shade and shelter sure —

and people say, unto this day

her faith survived the storm.

Abs Welch and his family

Abslon Colon and Laura Mae Welch (c. 1900)

Grandpa and Granny Welch

Grandpa Welch, his Dad,               and his Dad’s Sister

Granny (c. 1935)




Charles Colin, Mama, and Johnny Wesley (c. 1941)


Pawpaw, Nanny & Daddy China, TX c 1927

Write the things which thou hast seen, and the things which are, and the things which shall be hereafter – Rev. 1:19

My granny was a Holy Roller.

I spent the first six years of my life trying to find out what that meant. Today, some of the children of those old time Pentecostals hold graduates degrees from prestigious southern universities — and some of them are master criminals in the Louisiana State Penitentiary.


On February 10, 1951, my parents and brother were at Stevens’ Hospital in Lake Charles, Louisiana. Daddy was a shy twenty two year old, Mother was eighteen and equally shy; my brother was two and a half.

The hospital was small compared to Saint Patrick’s, a multi-storied brick and iron ornamented catholic hospital three blocks over; but it was clean, friendly and sufficient. According to Daddy, a little after one a.m., Dr. Stevens walked from the delivery room. Daddy’s eyes filled with tears when the doctor reported, “Gervis, you’ll have to make a choice. I can save your wife or I can save your child. I cannot save them both.”

Daddy could not answer the doctor. With tears pouring down his face, he left the waiting room. Thirty minutes later, they found him in front of the hospital. He was on his knees behind the boxed hedge bushes.

“On that night, God gave me a baby girl and the life of my wife,” Daddy said, twelve years later. Granny said it was a miracle. 

Granny's birth

Granny’s world did not always border on the miraculous. She was born August 3, 1915, three years after the sinking of the Titanic and one year after electricity came to Winnsboro, Louisiana. However, it’s unlikely Granny or her parents heard of the Titanic’s marvelous wonders. It was eight years before running water and sewer services came to the area, but even then, electricity and in-door plumbing were far beyond the means of Abslon Welch, his wife and ten children. "Abs" was part Cherokee and a share-cropper on the Cherry Place in Franklin Parish.

Abslon Colon and Laura Mae Welch (c.1900)

Granny meets Granddaddy

Granny was thirteen when a tall thin stranger with reddish blond hair stepped off a freight train in Winnsboro, LA. Grandpa didn’t like the boy, and he made it plain he was not welcome in his home or around his daughters.

Flora, Leonia, Clare, and Hettie Welch (c. 1928)

But  Granny like him and John Russel befriended the stranger. John owned a forty acre tract of land, lived on a river boat in the Beouf River, and was married to Granny’s sister Evielean. So, Granny dated the stranger behind Grandpa’s back for one year.