The following was written by Alta Brandon, one of my best friends and a one-time Texan who today lives in Greenwood, Arkansas. Alta is the daughter of Kenneth and Oneta Brandon who served in the town of Comanche at the Liberty Free Will Baptist Church.
I asked Alta to send me memories of the people she met in Texas, and today she writes of Minnie Cox, mother of Missy Cox Jones who does so much for us here at Texansunited.com.
We lived in Comanche, Texas right before I started 1st grade. I remember that our house seemed really big with a porch big enough for me to ride a trike, and I think I even rode that trike thru the house!
We made some lasting friends in that town. One of the most memorable characters was Sister Minnie Cox. She was probably already in her 70s when we lived there. I remember going to her house for her to babysit me when Mom and Dad had church things to do. She made the best hamburger patties. They were always square.
Isn’t that funny how I remember that?
She also introduced us to Ranch Biscuits. We always said they were Cowboy Biscuits. Boy, were they good, and she always let me help make them. I thought I was special!
Mrs. Cox would pay my brother David to mow her yard but, she would pay my brother Carl to sit and read comic books. She did not drive so we always picked her up for church services.
One of the stories my parents always told about her was how she always said she was praying the Lord would see to it we could get new seat covers for the car. (We kids had worn them out I’m guessing!)
We also picked up her cousin, another memorable lady, Sister Viola Rackley. She had heard Sister Cox say that so much that she gave my Dad a check one day and told him to get those seat covers. The first time we picked up Sister Cox after getting them put on, she got in the car and exclaimed, “Oh, Brother Brandon! The Lord has answered my prayer.”
Her cousin said under her breath, “Yeah, Minnie prays, Viola pays!” That is something my parents never forgot though. God does answer prayers. We still had good laughs about it though.
Sister Cox thought my daddy hung the moon, I guess. He became “Her Preacher” when she would talk about him. One time when he was sick, she got a taxi to bring her to our house to bring him a cold RC Cola. She brought my mom a hot RC cola. She would call real early every morning and say, “Now I’m not going to talk very loud because I don’t want to wake up my Preacher.”
Like the phone ringing didn’t disturb him!
One time we took her to church and the parking lot was just absolutely a muddy mess. My dad offered to lift her over the mud to the steps. She refused the offer and took off toward the steps.
With every step she took, the mud kept collecting on her shoes and she kept sinking a little further in the mud until she couldn’t even walk. She looked up at my dad who was standing on the steps of the church and said, “Brother Brandon, I may be a virtuous woman, but you are going to have to help me!”
This was said to the man that she kept a certain glass goblet at her house just for “Her Preacher” to drink out of when he would come for a meal or visit. When we moved away from Comanche, she sent the glass with us. She just could not stand the thought of someone else drinking out of that glass!
She was a little pistol! She also went fishing with our family one day. We were catching the crappie as fast as we got our hooks in the water. My mom was even fishing that day. Mom caught one and as she was trying to get it to the bank, Sister Cox said, “Oh, Sister Brandon, don’t you fall in that water! If you did, Brother Brandon would have to come in and get you and HE might get pneumonia!!
She was so worried about my father, she did not even think about the ramifications of my mom falling in the water.
Sister Cox told my folks about a little accident she had one day while walking on the sidewalk in downtown Comanche. There was apparently a crack in the sidewalk and she stubbed her toe and stumbled. There just happened to be a policeman standing by and he reached out and grabbed her as she was going down.
She later told us, “I was so glad that man was there to help catch me. If he hadn’t been there, I could have fallen down and broke my nose!”
We have laughed at the idea of her stubbing her toe and falling face down and not even trying to catch herself and hitting herself face first and breaking her nose.
There are so many stories I could tell about Sister Cox. Each one was just as priceless as the next. We met many a good person on the journey my Dad took us on.