On the weekends, when the family came together, they often sat on the front porch talking late into the night. My favorite story was the day Ronnie Wayne rose from the dead.

When Ronnie was a baby, they said, Granddaddy let him ride on the front of the tractor while he plowed the back fields. When Granddaddy hit a hard piece of ground, Ronnie Wayne fell under the front wheels.

“I carried him home and put his lifeless body in Granny’s arms,” Granddaddy said.

Granny walked the floor, crying and pleading the blood of Jesus. Ronnie Wayne lived to tell the story to his own children, and forever removed any doubt in the power of Granny’s prayer.

Another story told was not my favorite. According to the story, late one night, a relative was driving on Hollis Road, when they saw the devil riding in the back seat. It was pitch black in the car. At first, they could only feel a heavy cloud floating in the back, then in the review mirror they saw the devil’s head floating above the back seat—staring right at them!

One night after hearing the story, Ronnie Wayne said he saw the devil walk across the corner of my bed. I decided, then and there, it was time to talk to Granny about the sleeping arrangements in her house. When she came to visit us, she slept with me in my bed. I saw no reason why the favor could not be returned!