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Note: Family information for Jefferson Davis Reed is from Nena Reed Hopkins, Marj Ferris, Louise Nance (Frank's wife), 1900 and 1910 census reports and personal knowledge known to be true.
(The following was copied from Marj Ferris' Family Treemaker genealogy report. Received by email MBFerris@@aol.com)
OBITUARY - from Waco News Tribune, 20 Jan 1955
"Jefferson Davis Reed, 92, father of Waco detective Bennie Reed, died at 4 P.M. Wednesday in a Waco hospital after a four day illness. He lived at 707 South Fourth Street.
Mr. Reed was born in Arkansas and came to Texas in 1866. He lived in McGregor and Whitney for many years and came to Waco 13 years ago [ca 1842] after retiring from the farm. Services will be held at 1 P.M. Friday in Wilkirson and Hatch Chapel, Rev. T. B. Crews officiating. Burial will be in Rosemound Cemetery.
Surviving are five sons, O. R. Reed, Lloyd Reed and Bennie Reed, all of Waco, Woodrow Reed of Dallas and J. D. Reed Jr. of Shreveport, LA; seven daughters, Mrs. Albert Young of Denison, Mrs. Alice Janes of Denton, Mrs. Ben Hendrickson and Mrs. C. L. Lambright, both of Austin, Mrs. Alma Abbey of Phoenix, AZ, Mrs. C. B. Nance of Roscoe and Mrs. Cecil Harris of Dallas; a half-sister, Mrs. Lucy Gilliland of Waco; 36 grandchildren, 25 great- grandchildren, and five great-great-grandchildren."
Family Story per Mary B. Ivy Reed in telephone conversation 10 Mar 1997:
"Bennie remembers his father saying that when they left Arkansas to go to Texas, it was in the 'middle of the Night in wagons." [As Jefferson Davis was born in 1863 and moved to Texas in 1866, he could not have been much older than 3, so this perspective is from a child's viewpoint.]
History Sheet
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Surname: Reed
Given Name: Jefferson Davis, Sr.
Date of Record: 21 Jan 1989
Source: Edward "Bo" Lambright (died Jan 1996)
Told To: Donald Ray Reed, Sr.
My earliest memories date back to 1934. J. D. Sr. lived on a sandy land farm near Whitney, TX and within walking distance of the Brazos River where we used to swim. The children living at home at this time were J. D. Jr., Juanita, John Woodrow and I think, Gertrude [Irene Gertrude]. I remember Gertrude cooked the best soda cornbread I have ever eaten. The farm was owned by Dewitt Janes, who was married to Alice, a daughter by a previous marriage [to Nelly Gray]. Alice's sister, Jessie, was married to a carpenter, Ben Hendrickson. Seems like there was a third sister, but I am not sure; at least I didn't know her. [There was....Alma Nancy, and also a 4th, Mamie]. Jessie and Ben lived in Austin, TX till the day they died. They lived at 406 Sterling (sic) St. off Barton Springs Road near what became Butler Park and backed up into Barton Creek. They had no children.
Back to the farm, J. D. Sr. raised watermelons, peanuts, peas, and sweet potatoes. One year he had a record winning sweet potato in the area. There was a garden for personal use. One of his main sources of income was a syrup mill where he converted his own and neighbors sugar cane into molasses. I remember riding the mule that turned the press and helping watch the cooking pans. The temperature in the syrup pans was very critical in order to prevent the syrup from getting too hot and turning to a waxy sugar which was not commercial. The temperature was maintained by using cord wood and a touch of the hand, very crude by today's standards. Every year all the married children and their brats congregated for Xmas and J. D.'s birthday (Jun) for the hog killing and hominy making. This was done by using wood heat to produce boiling water to de hair the dead hogs and soften the corn for hominy. Times were very hard then; one year all the grown men left to pick cotton for a month. J. D. was a strong bodied and strong willed man, not well loved by his children. I was in awe of him and many of my memories of him I cherish to this day. Exie [Exie Helen Simpson] went blind during this era due to cataracts.
Your Mother [Mary Belle Ivy] and Dad [Bennie Ray Reed] got married during this period. I had a terrific crush on your Mother's sister, Maxine. Around 1937 J. D. moved to Waco, TX where most of the married children lived. They lived with one or the other until they moved into the Kate Ross Homes. While they were living with us J. D. taught Junior and myself how to play dominos, moon and poker. This was when I really got to know and love him. One of the best stories I remember of him was when he got in a fight over dominos at the old Cotton Palace grounds. Your Dad was a police officer then and got the charges dropped; J. D. was 85 at the time. All the young girls hated him because he would pinch and goose them. He was over 90 when he died and still very active. His death was caused by an accident. He was mowing the yard with an old reel type push mower, tripped, and broke his hip. He died of pneumonia as old folks were inclined to do in those days after an accident. On the day of the funeral Woodrow broke me up. Exie was a very religious lady and believed till the day she died that a glass of wine she had one Xmas was the reason God struck her blind. As long as I can remember J. D. had his hot toddy the first thing every morning and last thing every night which Exie raised plenty hell about. As Woodrow and I helped Exie to the car after the funeral, Woodrow said "Well, Mama, that whiskey finally got him."
When they lived on the farm they had a huge cast iron wood stove to cook on. The girls had to see that the fire was banked every night so there would be hot coals to start the morning cooking, and the tea kettle was filled and set where it would have warm water for J. D.'s morning toddy. J. D. would rise long before daylight, dress and make his hot toddy in a porcelain tin cup. He would pour the whiskey, add sugar, warm water, and stir like hell. This was the signal for everyone to get up and God help those who weren't up, dressed, and ready for work by the time he finished his toddy.
He was a stern taskmaster and ornery old fart, but he worked hard and did not tolerate laziness and didn't raise any lazy children. This probably explains why all the children left home as soon as they got old enough. I remember Mother [Ocie Edith Reed] and Dad [Clarence Lee Lambright] took in Bennie, Woodrow, and Junior [J. D. Jr.] until they got a job and got married. Your Dad lived with us when I was a baby. I don't actually remember the earliest years, but there was the usual pet stories that you hear so often that when you get older you believe that you remember. Bennie loved me dearly, this I know, because I have such fond memories of him. I recall one story that when Mother scolded me, Bennie would say "One of these days we're going to leave home." One day when Bennie wasn't home, I repeated this phrase after being scolded by Mother. Mother wrapped up a sandwich and one of my toys in a bandanna, tied it to a stick, and pushed me out into the cruel world. Having never been out of her sight before, this was a rude awakening for a four-year-old. She made me walk about a half a block, crying all the way, before she would let me return. When Bennie returned home and was told about it, we cried, but never threatened to leave home again.
Times were extremely hard, in the 1930's. Hardly anyone had a steady job, or any job at all. Bennie got a job as a warehouse roustabout at Cooper Co., wholesale grocers, which made everyone extremely proud of him. He worked long and hard, became a delivery driver, and established a reputation that made it possible for Woodrow, Junior, and myself to get a job with them just because we were related. When Bennie received his temporary appointment to the police force, they wished him well and promised him that if it didn't work out his old job would be waiting for him. Of course it did work out due to the work ethic that had been instilled into him as a child. It was not easy for someone with his limited education and background to advance as far as he did. He anguished over his acceptance and each succeeding promotion, but he made it. His reputation as a hard but honest and fair police officer was not limited to Waco. A good friend of mine who worked for the Department of Public Safety told me that Bennie was respected by all who knew him. His favorite story was the time he and Bennie returned to the police station to find one of the local crooks sitting at his desk with his hat on and his feet on Bennie's desk. Bennie slapped his feet off the desk, him out of the chair, and his hat on the floor. Bennie threw him into the hall and told him that if he wanted to see him, he would knock on the door and say "Captain Reed, may I see your for a few minutes." The crook did this, hat in hand, and Bennie said "I'm busy."
END OF EXCERPT from Marj Ferris's Family Treemaker genealogy report.
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