My Grandfather, Henry Joseph Mundy, was born near Burnley's Station, Albemarle County, Virginia, August 25 , 1855. His parents were Roland Mundy and Pelissa Anne Hall, the daughter of James Hall. He was the oldest child in a family of three brothers and two sisters. His family farmed and his mother was a widow according to the 1870 Census of the County. It is likely that he had to act as a breadwinner for the family at an early age. The Census that listed his mother as a widow listed him living with his mother, one other brother and two sisters. He was 18 years of age and his occupation was listed as a farmer. The home place where the family lived had been formed from the estate of his Grandfather, James Hall, and consisted of 16 acres of land located near Mountain Chapel, which lies less than a mile east of the base of Piney Mountain. It is likely also that young Henry Joseph worked rented land as well as the 16 acres, to support the family. The home place must have been very near Bob Estes's Store and close to the present day U.S. Route 29. The land was held by Pelissa A. Mundy until the late 1800's. She was living with her daughter, Pinky, and her son-in-law, Joseph Birkhead, at the time of the 1900 Census. She died sometime between 1900 and 1910.

My Grandpa died when I was just a bit more than 10 years old, but my memory of him is still fresh in my mind. He was a quiet man; it was not popular in his day to be pals with his grandchildren. Yet often, mostly on Sunday afternoons, he would take us on long walks along the old railroad bed which led to Proffit. He knew where every hazzelnut and chinkapin bush grew along that route, because he walked it to work everyday. He helped us in getting the nuts without filling our fingers with the sharp barbs from the husks. He was not much of a talker, and I don't remember any profound sayings he imparted to us children, but we knew we were loved and appreciated by him.

I do remember some of the bad times that occurred when he didn't het home from work on time. Several of us, including James, Grandma, and my father would begin to follow the route he would take from work and very often we would find him at the ford over the Rivanna River. He would have fallen just as he reached the bank closest to home after fording the river. I didn't understand at the time what had happened, but it scared me half to death. It took me several years of education to understand that he was suffering from heat exhaustion. The work on the railroad in those days was manual and hard. My Grandpa taught us all to give an honest days work for an honest dollar, and he was fiercely proud that he could put most men "in the shade." We know now that adding more salt to his diet, or supplementing salt as he sweated in the July and August sun, would have prevented the terrible pain of muscular contraction caused by low sodium. He would be helped home and was up and ready to go back to work the next morning. I really don't know how many times this happened during his working years, but it seems that it happened more frequently as he got older.

Another anecdote I heard from my Dad was how Uncle Dave tried to qualify Grandpa to become a Section Foreman. It was necessary that foremen know how to operate the "new fangled" motor cars that were used to transport the men and supplies to the work sites along the section. They labored on how to start the engine and how to maintain it in good working condition, and then came the "Big Test." The motor cars ran on the track, so there was no problem with steering, but Grandpa never got used to driving the machine as fast as was needed to get to the work site rapidly. He motored out with Uncle Dave and Dave would urge him to put some speed on her. Grandpa finally stopped the car and told Uncle Dave that if he wanted it to go any faster he had better drive it himself. That ended the lesson.

The last memory I have of him was when he lay near death in Martha Jefferson Hospital in Charlottesville, VA. He had fallen in the roadway near the mailbox and broken his hip. There were no antibiotics in that day, and certainly none of the readily available orthopedic surgery we now expect. A broken hip in a man of his age was most often a fatal event.

In 1932 children were seldom allowed in hispitals as visitors. Somehow I was allowed to go see my Grandpa. Aunt Fannie or Bertie may have had something to do with my getting in. I will never forget my last visit. Grandpa was semi-conscious by now, but I didn't know about such things. I did know that I had never seen anyone so sick. He must have sensed that I was there, or perhaps he was dreaming of being back home once more, because he said, "Roy Lee, what are you doing in my grapes?" He knew that I dearly loved to eat the grapes from the arbor at the side of his front porch, sometimes when they were still too green. All I could say was, "nothing."

-- Recollections of Roy Lee Mundy, _____date______