After ten years, the upkeep on our property had become impossible for us to maintain and we decided it was a good time to put it on the market. It was a beautiful old home, and we loved it but honestly couldn't see ourselves keeping it up forever. We wanted to sell while it was at its best. I researched online sites to list it and decided I would give it a try myself rather than list it locally. I took photos and wrote up a description of the property and published it online. I will admit that really, deep in my heart, I expected no interest from anyone. After all, it was listed with a nationwide site. Wouldn't you know, I had ONE response from a family in Texas. Oh Lord, what have I done? I responded with everything I could think of that may change their mind. I told them about the small town, the distance to the workplace for the gentleman, etc. Their response was
they had already checked everything out and knew they wanted to live in Blackstone and loved my house. They wanted to come next week for a tour! And so, it was they came, they saw, and they made an offer we couldn't refuse! They needed to close in one month!
A dear friend knew we were in a bind to find someplace to move quickly and offered us her home on her farm. Her husband had passed and she moved to an apartment in town and her house was empty. Once again, God rescued me from my impulsive act and we moved to Rural Oaks, the huge farm that was a family home with 500 acres that had raised tobacco cows and sheep for years. We closed on our home in town and moved to the country in a month. It was a peaceful place on two acres with everything we could hope for, including a lovely view of the pond filled with fish. Sol was in hog heaven since there was a great place for his "junk" cars and tools. A full basement gave me a place to open my little antique business. The neighbors were just up the road, and we were already friends with them, so everything was perfect.
Up the hill stood the big main farmhouse overlooking the entire 500-some-odd acres of family land. Several generations had been raised there. Now, it was occupied by a family friend who loved it just as the owner did. Huge boxwood led up the path to the porch, and the large old trees surrounded the home like a mother guarding her child. They were bare now but, in the summertime, hung over the enormous grounds providing cool shade for summer picnics. A big barn, complete with all the farm implements stood to the left. They were of little use nowadays since tobacco was not grown anymore and most of the fields were either leased out or used to raise sheep by another family member.
The nearest neighbors are at least a quarter mile away in either direction, but everybody looks out for everybody else as is the custom in this small Virginia county, where everybody knows your name. Up the hill, another small farm with a brick house sitting back through the field can hardly be seen but once you get there, the hill becomes a pinnacle for a view of the valley behind the home. Beautiful fruit trees, summer crops, flowers, and everything good makes you want to just sit down and have a glass of lemonade in summer or on a cold winter day like this day, sit in the homey kitchen where cinnamon bread may be in the oven and a pot of navy bean soup on the stove. Tommy and Betty Sue had raised a family here and never expected to leave. It was home.
One February day, as usual when the weather is bad, Tommy goes out, cranks up his old tractor that’s sitting under the carport, and waits for it to warm up. Betty Sue is inside the warm house making breakfast. The usual routine is, once the tractor warms up good while they have breakfast, he backs it out, plows their driveway through the front field, and on down to the next house. As time passes, Betty Sue realizes it shouldn’t take this long for him to come back inside while the tractor warms up. She wonders what’s taking so long and decides to check to see if he had left without coming back in for breakfast. Tommy was there on the floor of the carport. Tommy, our good neighbor, had apparently slipped on the icy floor as he prepared to plow the snow from his friends and neighbor’s driveways.
Seeing the emergency vehicles roar up the road, we knew something bad had happened. Sol jumped in his truck and made his way up the road where he heard the sad story. Good friends like the Barnes’s are hard to come by. We’d just had Christmas dinner with them that year enjoying time with their whole family. We were alone that year and they knew it, so they invited us to share their holiday meal around their table. In just a few weeks, he was gone leaving a great void in his home, church, and Southside Virginia near Rural Oaks Farm.
