Martin arrived in Mississippi in 1874 as a peddler, won some money in a poker game in Tupelo in which he may or may not have held a few cards in his coat sleeves, changed his name, claimed Irish heritage and skedaddled first to Aberdeen and then on to Columbus, which he thought was suitably out of the way and a pleasant enough town with honest and gullible citizens. He used his newfound wealth to buy a drygoods store from a young widow whose husband had just passed away from cholera the year before, married, and set up shop. But that was ancient history.

By the time his lovely daughter was turning 16 in 1898, he had mended his ways. His winning personality and good looks had made him a great friend of the ladies, and he and his wife Edna had prospered in their store. He could sell and she could sew and had an eye for the latest fashions. Their store had prospered, and they were able to build a fine house with a tower overlooking the town on the bluff above the Tombigbee River.

Mary was not their first or only child. They had lost a son in childbirth early in their marriage and a daughter at the age of two to measles. Life in Mississippi could be harsh in those days, and Martin and Edna had often thought they should not tempt fate again, but nature would have its way and at the ripe old ages of 28 and 34, Edna and Martin conceived and bore their third child, whom they named Mary in hopes the name would bring her luck. And indeed, she was a beautiful lass with dark eyes, dark hair, and a brilliant smile. It was hard to see her growing up and becoming a young woman.