Blown into the Pig Pen
Mr. McMurry and I had retired for the night, our bedroom being in the front part of the house. We were awakened from a sound sleep by deafening peals of thunder, the terrible roar of the wind, and a mighty down pour of rain that fell in blinding sheets. our first thoughts were of Minnie, who was sleeping alone in a back room that opened onto a porch. When we opened the door that led to her room we found that the room had been blown away!
Her father and I rushed out into the black night in search of our child with no light to guide us but the vivid flashes of lightning. We called and called her name, but there was no answer, for our voices could not be heard above the roar of the elements. Minutes seemed years! We continued to call and creep, inch by inch, over the debris which the storm had left in its wake.
Finally there was a lull; things grew quiet, except for the cries of the distressed. We continued to call our child and to pray that we might be directed to her. God hears and answers prayers. In the distance there came a plaintive answer to our calls, “Here I am, Mamma, in the pig pen.”
The pig was dead, but Minnie we found on her bed, unhurt, except for the terrible beating of rain and mud.
Mrs. Duncan added that Minnie McMurry grew into a magnificent young woman, loved by all who knew her. She was married to Benton McMillen of Whitewright in the late ‘eighties and passed away just a few years ago at her home in Kilgore, Texas.1