On the River Road
Where Grandma Ramey Lived

This song written by Quentin Oliver Gregory (My Uncle!)

Listen to Uncle Quentin Sing

Now, I remember when this story first began:
Of the things that we remember long ago;
Where our thoughts and memories are gathered in the evening breeze,
On the river road where Grandma Ramey lived.

And I remember well, those stories Grandma used to tell:
How her and Grandpa did a candy pull.
She’d place the candy on its end, and he knew where to begin,
To find the matching piece because they’d broke the rule.

Early in the morning cold, she’d light up that old wood cook stove,
And bake her homemade biscuits to a tender brown,
Then she’d make her coffee strong, “Carl, wash your hands an’ ya’ll come on.”
Then she’d set the table with the eggs and ham.

Grandma left behind these fond memories of my mind:
Of the Garret Snuff that Grandma always used,
Of the apron that she wore, and that old iron against the door,
On the river road where Grandma Ramey lived.

She’d sit in her cane bottom chair, on the porch in the cool air,
And the paddle in her churn moved up and down,
And her money she kept pinned in her underskirt back then,
On the river road where Grandma Ramey lived.

It was always a great treat to find all those good things to eat,
Under Grandma’s table cloth on Sunday eve.
There was chicken on the plate, and those half eaten Pies and cake
On the river road where Grandma Ramey lived.

Now, our uncles had their pride, on the Oklahoma side,
Of the Red River, where they always made their brew.
Then they’d make a batch and say, “That is all we need today.”
Then they’d put it in a spring to keep it cool.

Grandma left behind these fond memories of my mind:
Of the Garret Snuff that Grandma always used,
Of the apron that she wore, and that old iron against the door,
On the river road where Grandma Ramey lived.