Theresa’s Bed Story

My bed story may not be particularly interesting to most folks, but the story behind the bed that sits in one of the rooms at my bed and breakfast is very special to me. The bed belonged to my Mother and Daddy.

Before they owned the bed, as the story was told by my Dad, it was in the possession of a black man that frequented his service station located at that time on the corner of Fillmore and Tate Street in Corinth, Mississippi.

On one of those occasions this black gentleman needed some gasoline and did not have the money to pay for the gas. So, my Dad asked him if he had anything he could trade. I am not sure at this point what transpired. The man probably got $2 or $3 worth of gas. Daddy got a bed.

I just know that my memories are vivid from childhood until adulthood that “the bed” was always Mother and Daddy’s bed.

Only on special mornings, usually Sunday, we were allowed to crawl in the bed and play and listen to Daddy’s stories. This bed is not fancy or even very attractive. It is just a plain, ordinary mission type bed, circa 1940s. Fancy, ordinary, it really did not matter. The memories and the love that was shared by a Daddy and his daughter on those special mornings is what really mattered then.

Now, “the bed”, it still matters, because some sixty years later, it is playing host to countless visitors who frequent The Old Place Bed & Breakfast.

Today “the bed” is priceless.