Feb. 12, 2008
Let me tell you about my mama.
She was a funny lady although she didn’t try to be. She spent her whole life taking care of her husband and four kids. All four of her kids thought the world of her. Mama once told a neighbor that she didn’t have much, but she had the four greatest kids in the world.
She made us feel that way. In fact, she never spanked us. She just couldn’t, she said.
When my baby brother came along, a change of life baby, she used to stand in the doorway and watch him when he played. She couldn’t bear for him to be out of her sight. That was in the days when children could safely play outside. The word predator was unknown in our town. There were no kidnappings, pedophiles, or such. We had never heard of such a thing. Children could play outdoors all day long in complete safety.
Sure, we got skinned knees and scratches but that was to be expected.
Now back to mama. Mama didn’t know how to drive a car…..never did all her life. She didn’t work outside the home until the three oldest left home. For a while, she worked at a shoe factory, then as a cleaning lady, then at the Majestic Hotel where she answered phone calls on an antique switchboard. She liked working the switchboard, plugging into different hotel rooms., connecting the guests. She told me she made $18 per week doing that.
Harry S. Truman had slept at the Majestic Hotel several times. A large black and white photo of him was on a wall near the switchboard. That photo and the suite he stayed in burned to the ground one night. The whole hotel burned to the ground.
We were all worried about mama. We knew she was supposed to have gone off duty earlier that evening. But we had to be sure.
My sister called me. They were frantic because they couldn’t find mama. She wasn’t home. The hotel was in flames. People were jumping from windows.
I told my sister that I was sure mama was okay. Mama had told me she was going to play bingo in Blytheville that night. She usually went with the “girls.” She, of course, hitched a ride since she couldn’t drive. She and the girls always stopped and had barbecues before they played bingo.
Nervously, I called the bingo place, and asked for mama.
She was there, innocent as could be. She had already heard about the fire.
Mama didn’t know until later that one of her friends had died in the fire. They never found her charred remains. Mama knew her friend was taking a nap and probably didn’t know about the fire. Maybe she died in her sleep, we reasoned. It grieved mama for a long time.
Mama had red hair but she didn’t have a temper. Only once did I see her riled. That incident had to do with my baby brother, who was shy and sweet. A neighbor had chastised my brother and either slapped or spanked him. Mama flew like a wet hen over to her house and they almost came to blows. No one was going to touch her baby. Mama came back home, her face flushed. She was visibly shaken. For months she and the neighbor avoided each other.
Mama lived to be 93 years old. In later years she developed alzheimer’s disease. It was a slow destructive insidious disease of her body and mind. Yet, she never forgot her children. She always recognized our faces and called us by name.
Mama was always interested in her children and her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She was the wheel and we were the spokes. She made sure she was always involved in our lives.
She will always be a part of us.
