Below:1930 Aunt Venie & Uncle Bill, Aunt Nevie, Uncle Pomp & Aunt Em.

About Uncle Bill and Aunt Venie:
William Hayes Parker and Lavinia Felton were married 9 Nov 1893. They made their home up the road from Tim and Tennie just past the Christian Church. Both Uncle Bill & Aunt Veenie adored children. They had married after Uncle Bill's first wife died in May six weeks after delivering twins on 28 March 1893. One day Venie's brother who was a sailor came to visit and while there fell ill of small pox--and to everyone's horror both of the children caught the disease and both died. Venie from that time forward was always "poorly off."
The brother brought her a parrot that Venie taught to talk and the bird sounded just like Veenie talking I am told. One day Uncle Bill loaned his horse to one of the men on the place; as the man took the bridle to catch the horse the parrot who was sitting up in an apple tree (it flew loose) began loudly squawking. "Mister Parker! Mister Parker--fellow stealing your horse! Mister Parker- fellow stealing your horse!--Mister Parker!" This made that man so mad he wouldn't take the horse.
One day about the summer of 1946 Arthur, Helen, and I were visiting Grandmama. One morning she said, "This afternoon I want you children to go visit your Aunt Veenie." Grandmama gave us her big black umbrella to shade us as we walked the half mile or so up the road. As we approached we noticed two people rocking in the big chairs on the front porch. (Venie's brother Jim made his home with her.) When we rounded the corner and turned into the lane to the house nobody was in sight--though the two chairs were still rocking. We pass by the most interesting squashes--we just grew yellow squash, but in Aunt Venie's & Mr Jim's garden patch were white squat ones and striped ones and the hard shell ones. Flowers abounded nearer the house; Also there were birdhouses with the post lined with metal so her cats couldn't get to the little birds.
Well we go on up to the door and knock. This real weak voice calls to us, "Come in." We step into the hallway, and she calls again, "In here." She's in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin. "Ola's children!, How nice of you to come to see me. But you tell your grandmother Tennie I've been feeling poorly off all week. I just haven't been able to get up today." As we continued to visit Venie remembered something in her trunk she wanted to show us; so out she crawled fully clothed, shoes and all, to get the locks of hair she had clipped from her children's heads before they were laid in the ground. "Once, I had two sweet little ones," she softly would say.
Then since she was up, she took us out back to see the animals her brother, Mr. Jim, had nursed back to health after finding them injured in the woods on his daily roams. Before we went back to Grand-mama's house Aunt Venie gave us a drink of water in her kitchen where all kinds of herbs and peppers were hanging.

Uncle Bill was the only Granddaddy we children ever had.  My sister Julia wrote this poem Based on her memories of him in 1948 when she was in college at WCUNC in Greensboro, NC.