by Frances Mullen Felts Brunson
written in 1984
submitted by Donna Felts Grogan
James Ellison Lott, Jr. b. 6-2-1857 in Carroll County, MS d.
5-11-1919 married 11-12-1879 in Carroll County, Eliza Wilborn Sullivan
b. 11-25-1858 d.10-16-1918
I have little knowledge of my Grandmother's family, only the things I've heard
from others, and some that I think I remember:
Eliza Wilborn Sullivan's mother was Eliza Davis, nee, Pritchard. Her
father was Timothy Wilborn Sullivan, and Tom Sullivan, her brother, married Maud
Mullen, my fathers sister.
Grandmother's sister, Florence, married a Lott from Texas, and their son, Tim,
once visited us in Mississippi when I was 8 years old. I especially
remember that visit because of the big bear skin coat he wore.
Another sister, Nettie, died at age sixteen, and the third sister, Ella, married
Dell Perkins, and taught school in Chapel Hill, TX(?). Ella and Dell's
children are Reba, Opal, and Dell, Jr. I don't remember them very well,
but I know Opal married Stanley Hiller, a scientist from Switzerland,
living in CA. Their son, Stanley, Jr. is an inventor living in CA, and I
remember reading in Readers Digest about the Helicopter, a lawnmower of sorts,
also numerous other inventions of his.
Grandmothers brother, John Sullivan, was a recluse, more or less. John
lived with Grandmother and Grandfather, he never married. It seems he was
always working at some new invention or another, and did invent a barb used in
barbed wire. We children were afraid of him, or maybe respected his
eccentricities is more the truth! I remember us peeking through the
keyhole, watching him plait his beard, then tucking it up under his chin,
wondering what made it stay there. He spent most of his time in a little
room attached to a storage house in back of the big house. There he kept
his prized possessions, his mothers and sisters clothes, house furnishings and
other thing, all kept under lock and key. We called it Uncle John's shop.
He would disappear for months, and at times for years. After one long
absence, the family, overcome with curiosity, broke into the shop. I remember
them finding gold leaf picture frames, enormous hand-woven bedspreads,
furniture, handmade clothes and bric-a-brac, circa 1800, all of which would be
deemed priceless today. Some years later, Uncle Harry received a telegram
from someone in St. Louis, MO saying Uncle John was critically ill. When
Uncle Harry and Uncle Gordon got to St. Louis, Uncle John was already
dead. He had been living in an apartment on Pigalle, (we would call it Pig
Alley). The room was filled with boxes of who knows what. Uncle
John's body was returned to Carroll County and buried in the Lott Cemetery.
To date, there is not much information on Uncle Tom Sullivan, but I hope to have
it in the Mullen family record.
When I was seven or eight years old, I remember either Opal or Reba Perkins,
whichever was the musician, coming to visit Grandmother. The whole Lott
clan was there to see this cousin from "far away" Texas, or
California. Both states defied imagination in distance to us all!
Our guest, after supper, sat down to play the piano, and I thought it was the
most heavenly music I had ever heard. Grandfather, not the most
knowledgeable or appreciative person of classical music, was convulsed with
laughter and had to leave the room, much to Grandmothers embarrassment.
Grandfather did recognize and appreciate "Dixie" when she played it
The Hiller family visited Aunt Fannie Lott and Rebecca Lott Liddell in 1956.
Grandmother and Grandfather Lott died in 1918 and 1919, respectively ,when I was
twelve years old. Grandmother was invalid and had tuberculosis the last few
years of her life. The remedy for tuberculosis at that time, was bed rest and
fresh air, so the front end of the porch was made into a small bedroom for her,
and there she spent her remaining days. Grandmother was a warm, kind,
gentle person. She showed great love and patience for all the many children and
grandchildren. Grandmother died on October 16, 1918, and the next year,
May 11, 1919, Grandfather died.
His death was considered a freak accident. It happened on a Sunday
afternoon, with quite a number of friends and relatives all there at his home,
gathered on the porch. Grandfather, being a big tease was playing with the
children, pretending he was going to kiss Girl Delap. Girl was a
thirty-five year old neighbor who was raised by her aunt and uncle, Johnnie and
Paralee Delap. Girl, being very shy, gave Grandfather a little shove and
he fell and couldn't get up without help. Dr. McBride, the family
Physician, happened to come by in his Model T Ford, examined him and said that
Grandfathers leg was broken. The doctor went back to town to get Dr.
Godfrey to help set the broken leg, and both came back pretty "well
lit". The boys had made a splint for his leg, and I remember
Grandfather being lifted onto the dining room table, but I don't remember who
was administering the ether. It may have been one of the boys, but any
rate, Grandfather never waked. Our second tragedy in less than a year.
As a child, the house seemed very large and roomy to me, but after being away
and returning later, actually it was a small one in which to raise twelve
children and some relatives. The house was about five miles northeast of
Carrollton at the edge of Hickory Grove Community. I don't know when my
Grandparents first moved to this house, it was later torn down, but the saying
is, you can't find anyone who lives in Little Texas anymore..