The House That Built My Mom

Originally published on Little Merry Sunshine, August 17, 2010.

Right after Christmas, my Aunt Dixie died. She was Nana's last living sister. It wasn't entirely unexpected; she'd been doing poorly last July at Nana's funeral and pretty much went straight downhill from there.

I'll be honest, Aunt Dixie's death was bittersweet to me. On the one hand, she was the last of Nana's sisters and the last of the Greatest Generation in our family. It would not be an understatement to say she was the matriarch (or maybe more accurate to say she thought she was). Her home in Batesville, Mississippi was the gathering spot for family celebrations, tragedies, and everything in between. On the other hand, she had publicly blamed me for my parents divorce when I was 12 and I'd spent the past 25 years or so staying out of her way. As sad as her passing was, there was part of me that felt relieved and even glad.

Mom and I debated whether or not to make the 10 hour drive to Batesville, Mississippi for Aunt Dixie's funeral, but ultimately decided that we wanted to be there and as a bonus, we'd get to "celebrate" with Christmas with Nana by visiting her grave. I packed a little bite of Nana's fruitcake and one of the Christmas ornaments I'd made for my Nana-themed Christmas tree to leave at Nana's grave and off we went.

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Mom was born in Oxford, Mississippi and lived in Batesville until she was 8. Nana, of course, was born and raised in Batesville, as was my grandfather Jesse, who died 10 years before I was born. Nana's sisters Johnnie and Dixie also lived most of their lives in Batesville and their children raised their kids either in Batesville or in a neighboring town. With the exception of my mom's brother Michael and his family, Dave and I were the only ones not raised at least part-time in Batesville.

Until Nana's funeral, it had been 15 years since either Mom or I had been to Batesville and we both knew this would probably be our last trip. For me, this trip was about saying goodbye to Nana in a way I hadn't had time or the emotional ability to do in July. For mom, this trip was about to be about her ability to reconcile her childhood with her present and future.

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The day of Aunt Dixie's funeral, Mom and I were up and dressed early with about an hour and a half to spare before we were expected anywhere. Mom wanted to drive around and see some old "landmarks."

First, we drove to the house Nana was raised in. At least four generations of my family have lived in this house. From Big Mama (Nana's mom) to Nana and her sisters Johnnie, Dixie, and Mazie, to all four sisters and their families separately and together, to Johnnie's grandson Robert, many members of our family can count this house as "home" at one point or another. It was part of the family farm, which at some point after Aunt Johnnie's death was sold.

I remember sitting in Aunt Johnnie's kitchen when I was about 6 or 7 and feeling the house shake and hearing the dishes rattle. I turned to my mom and said, "they sure do have low flying airplanes around here," even though we were no where near an airport. As a kid growing up 15 minutes from O'Hare, it was simply the only thing I could imagine would make such a racket. Aunt Johnnie turned to me and in no uncertain terms informed me that it was a freight train and the railroad tracks were 100 yards outside her front door. She then asked my mom what kind of a child she was raising that didn't know the difference between an airplane and a freight train. The thing about Aunt Johnnie was that if you didn't know where you stood with her you were either deaf or you weren't listening.

The house that built Nana. They added on the bathroom located in the left of the picture behind the bush. Before that, they had an outhouse. The railroad tracks are 100 yards to the right of the house as you're looking at it.

Mom wanted me to see her elementary school, Batesville Elementary School, which had also been Nana's elementary school. It's been Batesville's elementary school since 1897 and occupies one entire city block.

Next, we drove by Aunt Dixie's house on Highway 6. It doesn't look like much from the outside, but on the inside, the rooms are elaborately decorated in the Federalist style, or as I affectionately refer to it, Early American Whorehouse. Honestly, I affectionately refer to it that way. In fact, there are some pieces of Nana's furniture that have been in Aunt Dixie's house for years that I'm hoping I can get because I love them. Aunt Dixie also has a huge basement that her late husband, Uncle Happy, built. We used to have the most fun family parties down there. In fact, it was in Aunt Dixie's basement, that Aunt Mazie flashed the entire family one Christmas. But I digress.

When Mom lived in Batesville, her house was located just left of Aunt Dixie's house. After Mom's family moved to Crystal Beach, Florida, they sold the house and it was moved to make way for a strip mall.

As I said, Mom's house was moved about a mile or so from its original location after it was sold. Over the year, Mom has mentioned many times that she has always wanted to go back into the house and see how it looks now. When they moved to Florida in 1956, it was a very sudden move and I don't even think Mom knew they were moving. I've always understood that they went for vacation to visit Mom's godmother and decided to stay. In fact, they left most of their furniture in Batesville because they believed they'd be back, but they never returned.

Because there were cars in the driveway, I pulled into the drive and told Mom to go knock on the door. I can't remember the last time I saw Mom move so fast as she did racing up to that door. A middle-aged woman answered and it only took a second for her to invite Mom inside, while I waited in the car. There was a part of me that wanted to see the house my grandfather built and see where my mom came from, but I knew this was really Mom's journey and worried a stranger wouldn't let two women she didn't know just roam around her house.

Mom returned about 20 minutes later with tales of how nice the woman was and how much of the house was still the same. The bookshelves my grandfather built in Mom's room were still there. The kitchen and the pantry were still the same. The owner, who it turned out was the daughter of the family that purchased the house from Nana and my grandfather, bragged to my mom about how well my grandfather built everything so only minimal work had had to be done over the years.

Getting back in the car, I could see a glow on Mom's face I hadn't seen for years. She was so happy to have been given this gift of visiting her childhood home and the only house she felt like they were a happy family in.


Having been at Mom's house in Batesville, I now have a better appreciation for the old 8mm family movies I found last summer and had converted into DVD. I can better picture these movies being filmed inside Mom's house in Batesville. This is the only video I have of my grandfather. (Get Little Merry Sunshine via email? Click here and go watch the video on Little Merry Sunshine.)

Jessica Gardner from Orange Guest on Vimeo.

Being back in Batesville was not easy. It was an emotional trip, but it was well worth the 20 hours we spent in the car. I don't know if we'll ever go back, so I'm a happy I gave Mom the time with her cousins and the opportunity to step back in time in her old home.

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A few months later, I first heard the Miranda Lambert song, The House That Built Me, and it brought tears to my eyes as it took me back to that day in Batesville with Mom.

Count Your Blessings Every Day (My Eulogy for Nana)

Originally posted on Little Merry Sunshine on July 18, 2009.

Today was Nana's Celebration of Life Service at Crystal Beach Community Church, in Crystal Beach, Florida. She loved this church and was proud to be one of its founding members in 1957. My mom and I both spoke at Nana's service and these were my comments. I'm proud to say I only cried three times and wondered if I could finish my talk just once.

JLG

For those of you who don't know me, I'm Jessica Gardner, Frances' granddaughter. I'm the oldest of her four grandchildren, the only granddaughter, and Virginia's daughter.

My memories of Nana span almost four decades and I could stand here all day sharing stories with you, but rather than do that, I want to focus on what I believe made Nana the woman she was . . . counting her blessings every day.

Late last week, as we were preparing for Nana's passing, I spoke with Denise McCloud, here at the Church. She shared with me how she and Pastor Susie went to visit Nana recently. Nana was sleeping with the most peaceful expression on her face and her hands were folded neatly across her chest, as though in prayer. I remember smiling through my tears, as I heard this story and then shared with Denise that for as long as I've known Nana, she always slept that way - on her back with her fingers interlaced across her chest as though in prayer. I've never seen anyone sleep as peacefully as Nana did.

As we spoke, I continued to share that it was my belief that the reason Nana slept so peacefully every night, never suffering from insomnia or other disruptions to her sleep, was because she always spoke kindly, found the best in others, focused on her blessings rather than what she didn't have or trying to keep up with the Jones's, treated people with respect and the way she wanted to be treated, lived her life with humility, and turned her struggles over to God every night. I never heard Nana gossip, speak ugly about anyone, curse, complain, or hold a grudge, even at times when no one would have faulted her for it. One of her favorite proverbs was Proverbs 15:1, "A soft answer turneth away wrath; but grievous words stir up anger." It was one of her most fundamental beliefs.

She was a devout Christian, but you didn't know it because she was constantly telling you about it. You knew it through her deeds and the way she lived her life. Whether she was finding a low-cost, good home for a family in financial distress, bringing a table to a newlywed without any furniture, or dealing with her customers at the bank, Nana was selfless in her actions. She thought of others before she thought of herself and, in my mind, was the originator of the question "What would Jesus do?" I know she asked herself this question many times every day.

Every night, she ended her day the same way. She dropped to her knees, thanked God for the many gifts he had given her (even if sometimes those gifts took the form of "opportunities" or "challenges") and asked for His blessings for all of her loved ones - naming each of them individually. Nana's prayers were never pre-scripted. Each one was unique. She never asked God for material things; rather she thanked him for giving her strength, courage, patience, humility, and providing for her and her family. She knew he had a plan for her and she never questioned it.

For Nana, family always came first. Even when she was working, if any of us would call her, she would always take the call. She may not have been able to speak at that moment other than to say, "Jessica, dear, I'm with a customer now. Can I call you back?" in her sweet Southern drawl, but she never asked anyone to take a message from her family.

I remember that Nana used to always tell me that I was her favorite granddaughter. Now, the fact is that I am her ONLY granddaughter. At first, I didn't like it when she said this to me, but I came to understand that this was her way of telling me what a special blessing having a granddaughter was and I began to look forward to the compliment. When she retired from NationsBank, now Bank of America, a customer presented her with a gift of drugstore chocolates. I remember standing there as she accepted the gift, held the box like it was a rare jewel, looked at the man, and sincerely said, "Oh, that's JUST what I have wanted! A box of really fine chocolates! Thank you so much!" When my parents divorced, she reached out to my dad to let him know that she still loved him and that he was always welcome in her home. Twenty-five years later, he still remembers those words and the impact they had on him, as he related the story to me for the first time, just the other night. He wasn't her ex-son-in-law. He was and has always remained the man who married her daughter and gave her two beautiful grandchildren. Paying you a sincere compliment was one way she counted her blessings every day. She filled herself up by sincerely lifting you up with heart-felt, soft words.

Nana wasn't rich in material goods, but she was rich in all the things that mattered: love, gratitude, compassion, friends, and family. She loved to tell us that we must always count our blessings every day and that included the things we might not think were blessings. She taught me to always find the bright side of life. I might have to search for it, but it was always there. I think my own optimism in life came from her.

One of my favorite things about Nana is how she loved to write letters. I would receive letters from her weekly, no matter what. Sometimes, those letters would be personal letters written just to me. Sometimes they would be copies of letters she had sent to someone else, but thought I'd be interested in. Sometimes, they'd simply be newspaper clippings that she thought might be relevent to my life. I've kept the letters that touched me most and found one recently that I'd been saving just for today.

She wrote this letter seven years ago, in April 2002, as she was recovering from a stroke and just before she went blind. What I love about this letter, is how rather than focusing on her aches, pains, and new limitations, she chose to count her blessings and share them. I think she sent this letter only to me, although it reads like a letter she copied and sent to multiple family members. Maybe she somehow knew this was the perfect way to remember her today. It was simply titled "Happy Days I Recall."

Of course, a happy day was when Daddy (Jesse Paulk) and I married on September 30, 1938.

The happiest day was when I knew Jesus was my Lord and Savior - my strength and my redeemer.

I do not remember being baptized, but when I was a little girl about 6 or 7, Momma had a new dress for me and Momma and Daddy took me to Sunday School. We sat in little chairs in front of churt - about 7 or 8 children and their parents talked to us. I am sure that was the day I was baptized. I have always loved the Lord, but as I grow older, I realize each day - He is my strength and redeemer. He will never leave me or forsake me, if only I believe and I do.

Another great and happy day was when the nure handed me a darling baby girl - Virginia - September 12, 1948. Daddy and I thought we owned the world with Virginia, so sweet and precious.

Another day to remember was when a bouncing baby boy was handed to me, February 22, 1951 - Michael. Daddy thought the whole world was handed to him with that special baby boy. Virginia and Michael have both given us great pleasures then Daddy was taken away on September 12, 1961.

With dear thoughts of Daddy and God's help, they grew up and were a real pleasure, dear children. Never any trouble. I had many smiles each day.

Then came along another darling baby girl in Tampa on June 16, 1971, Jessica. (My first grandchild.) She was so cute and sweet. I remember driving over to Tampa to see the precious new arrival. Such a pleasure you have been. Then came another bouncing baby boy in Ft. Myers, Florida on October 5, 1974, David Gardner. All these dear little babies have made life worth living.

A few years ago, Jessica invited me to Washington, DC for Christmas. As the plane reached DC, I stood by the window and looked at the Capitol, never expecting to see it with my own eyes. I stood there in awe thinking about all the goverment under that dome. It was a sight I shall never forget. That Christmas she got many wonderful passes for us to see all of DC. David, bless his heart, got a wheel chair and pushed me all over Washington. Sights I had only studied in school - never expecting to see with my own eyes. Potomac River was real. All of the beautiful sights of DC and thanks to Jessica and David for all these wonderful sights. Even Christmas Eve services in the beautiful National Cathedral and then a drive to Roanoke, Virginia. I slept in the back seat all the way, but the next day, going back through all those mountains. Had I known I sure would not have slept. Anyway, was a wonderful Christmas - being with Virginia, Jessica, and David. Will always be a wonderful memory.

Then I think of Jesse and Ryan, (my grandsons from my son Michael). I only saw darling pictures of Jesse for a few months with Michael holding him in his arms. Such a precious picture. Then I few to Colorado when he was baptized at home. The preacher came to the house and Maureen (Michael's wife) and Michael had a few friends in. Jesse arrived November 30, 1981 and was named for his grandfather, Jesse Edward Paulk, and someone in Maureen's family was named Michael, so was a nice name - Jesse Michael Paulk - from both sides of the family.

Ryan arrived in a Dunedin, Florida on May 1, 1985 and named Ryan Thomas Paulk. I remember driving to the hospital when he was only a few hours old. He was so dear and sweet.

Certainly I am sad today. Sad at the loss of my dear Nana, whom I will miss more than I can even comprehend right now. But I am blessed to have had her for 38 years and, when I focus on that, my sadness is lifted just a little. She would want us all to focus on the good in each other and in life. To celebrate each day for the gift that it is and to count our blessings, just as she counted hers each day for 93 years.

Nana's Date Loaf Candy

In addition to Nana's White Fruit Cake, Christmas in my house wasn't complete with Nana's Date Loaf Candy.

I'll be honest, I don't love Date Loaf Candy as much as I love Fruit Cake. In fact, I probably haven't had any in close to 20 years and at my request, Nana never sent me any.

That said, everyone else in my family loves Date Loaf Candy and I will be making it this Christmas. Shhhh! Don't tell them.

Just like with Nana's White Fruit Cake, I don't know where this recipe originated, but it came as part of the recipe collection I was given in 1999. The words are Nana's because I think it taste better made the way she thought about it.

Nana's Date Loaf Candy

Ingredients
3 cups sugar
3 Tbs White Karo Syrup
1 cup milk
3 Tbs Oleo (JLG Note: "oleo" is butter or margarine, I'll use butter)
8 oz pitted Dates (chopped)
1 cup Pecans (chopped)

Directions
1. Combine first 3 ingredients in sauce pan and cook until makes a soft ball in cold water. Cook about 12-15 minutes. Will turn dark while cooking. You can sample little in cold water several times and will feel kinda hard.

2. Add Oleo and stir in dates. I chop into pieces so will dissolve easier. Continue to stir.

3. Add pecans and with spoon take a big helping and roll into a sausage-type roll. I put butter on my hands to roll easier and stuff will be hot.

4. Place on a damp cloth then roll into a roll about 2 inches across.

5. I put on bottom refrigerator shelf and leave for 20-30 minutes. Then you can take out and cut into about 4 pieces and roll in wax paper or Saran Wrap and put in Ziploc bag and leave until ready to eat.

6. Slice into 1/2 inch slices. Enjoy!

DO NOT MAKE ON RAINY DAY.

JLG UPDATE 10/19/2009: I posed some questions to my mom today who informs me that Nana's recipe makes about 2 12 inch logs. The number of pieces of candy it will make depends on how thick you choose to cut each piece from the log and whether you cut the round pieces into 4 bite-sized pieces or not (Nana never did). If you are planning to keep your Date Loaf Candy for any length of time, then it should be stored in the refrigerator.

While searching for recipes of Nana's, I perused the Batesville (MS) Presbyterian Church Cookbook from 1993 and found the Date Loaf Candy Recipe submitted by Nana's sister, Dixie Gladney. They are similar, but with a few slight differences.


Louise L. Smith's Date Loaf Candy submitted by Dixie (Scruggs) Gladney

Ingredients
2 cups sugar
1 cup milk
1 1/2 Tbsp. butter
1 cup chopped dates
1 cup chopped pecans
1 tsp. vanilla

Directions
Cook sugar, milk and butter to soft ball stage. Add dates and boil 5 minutes. Take from heat and beat until thick. Add nuts then beat again until real stiff. Wet a cloth kitchen towel. Spread candy with spoon into long roll on wet cloth, then roll 1 ply cloth around candy to make roll. Unwrap and let set. Will be sticky at first. Slice into 1/2-inch slices.

(JLG Note: Yes, I know, there's no explanation of what to do with the vanilla. I'd suggest adding it to the sugar, milk and butter, but I haven't made this recipe.)

Frances in Pictures

Frances Scruggs Paulk Bredemeier lived a remarkable life, much of it captured in pictures.

This slide show is about 5 minutes in length. I apologize for not having all of the pictures captioned yet. It's a work in progress.

A Little More Information About Frances Paulk Bredemeier

Written by Virginia Paulk Gardner, daughter of Frances Paulk Bredemeier, April 20, 2007.

Mama was born in a log house her father had built out in the country in Batesville, Mississippi on July 18, 1916. Mama says it was was a "log house," not a "log cabin," because it had several bedrooms and a big front porch. Her parents were farmers. Batesville is a small town 60 miles south of Memphis, Tennessee and 20 miles west of Oxford, Mississippi.

When Mother was about 16 years old and active in "4-H," she canned the most green beans in the whole state of Mississippi. This won her a free trip to the Chicago's World's Fair in 1932, where she met and had breakfast with Amelia Earhart. Miss Earhart presented Mama with an inscribed Elgin Platinum Watch - Mama's other prize for canning the most green beans. [This was in the early Fall after Miss Earhart's first solo flight across the Atlantic on May 20, 1932.]

Mother graduated high school with start A's, was Class Valedictorian and gave the graduation speech at Batesville High School in 1933. Due to all her many high school achievements, she won a full 4-year scholarship to Bellhaven College in Jackson, Mississippi. Mama passed on her life-long love of learning to all her children and grandchildren. Both my brother, Michael, and I gave Valedictorian speeches at our high school graduations, and my daughter, Jessica, gave the Valedictorial Speech at her Junior High School graduation; but Mother was the only one of us to earn all "Straight A's"!

When her mother, Lillie, became sick and bed-ridden while Mama was still a very young girl, her mother taught her how to make patters and to sew. From that time one, she made all of the clothes for herself, her 3 sisters, and her mother. My mother was a beautiful and talented seamstress. She designed and made all my clothes so that I never had a store-bought outfit until after I went off to college. She continued to sew until Mama's sweet pretty blue eyes went blind in December 2002. When that happened, I'll always remember Mama asking me, "what will I do now, if I cannot sew?"

But God helped MOther to discover and to see that there are always many gifts in every disability and hardship that comes our way.

As a result of Mama's blindness, not only did God make it possible for me to be able to be with her for the rest of her years, even though my home has been in Illinois since 195, but there was an even greater gift yet to come when I discovered that Verizon charged every disabled person $2 for every local call and $6 for each long distance call plus $1 per minute for all call an Operator had to disal for them, even when no one answered the call.

So, on Mother's behalf, I filed a Complaint against Verizon of Florida with the FCC in September 2003, in order to get them to comply with the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990 and the Federal Telecommunications Act of 1997, both of which require all phone companies to waive those extra fees for persons who are not able to dial their own phone calls.

Within 30 days, Verizon set up call centers for customers with special needs in all 50 states. now Verizon provides special services for all disabled people, not just those who are hearing or speech impaired. I'm working now with Verizon to get all phone companies and states to provide Voice-Activated Calling Devices for customers who need them, just as TDD/TTY equipement is provided free of charge to all speech and hearing-impaired people.

Mama now sees how God used her blindness to make it possible for her and I to be able to be together now for all her remaining years, as well as used Mama's blindness to help millions of disabled people all over America to now be able to have better and more indepedent access to phone service.

Frances Lily Scruggs Marries Jesse Edward Paulk

Originally written by Virginia Paulk Gardner, daughter of Frances Paulk Bredemeier, April 20, 2007.

My mother, Frances Lily Scruggs, and father, Jesse Edward Paulk, were married at Idelwilde Presbyterian Church in Memphis, Tennessee, on September 30, 1938. During World War II, my father served with the Army Corp of Civil Engineers in Germany and then in France. During that time, my mother was a supervisor on the War Price and Ration Board, and also worked as assistant to the General who managed a German Prisoner of War Camp near Sardis, Mississippi.

After the war, my mother and father built their home and lived in Batesville, Mississippi. My father set up his own plumbing and deep-water well drilling business there so that his two brothers, who were still being held captive in German POW camps, would have a business to work in with him when they were released. Both my brother, Michael (1951), and I (1948) were born in Oxford, Mississippi.

Even though Daddy specialized in drilling deep-water wells, in April 1953, he brought in the largest gas well ever brought in in the Southeastern United States. He accomplished this because he had the courage to meet the infamous and wealthy Texas wildcatter, J.T. Whitlock, who had been trying for over a decade to bring in this particular gas well using standard oil and gas drilling rigs. Daddy told him that he could bring in the well using his deep-water well drilling equipment.

Daddy succeeded in doing what he said he could do, but the wealthy J.T. Whitlock never paid my father or any of the other poor farmer in Fulton, Mississippi, from whom he had purchased the lifetime oil and gas rights under all their land for only $0.05 to $0.10 per acre. Daddy's well is still pumping gas that is piped all the way to Texas to this day.

In 1956, my mother and father, along with Michael and me, moved to Crystal Beach, Florida. Daddy continued his well-drilling business and drilled the first drinking-quality water wells here in Crystal Beach. He knew that water wells in this area had to be drilled deeper to get past the more shallow water wells, which produced only water that was full of sulfer, making the water smell and taste like rotten eggs. Many houses in Crystal Beach still get their water straight from the wells my father drilled.

My mother began working at Ellis National Bank as an assistant cashier and foreign exchange teller. After a few years, bank president and owner, A.L. Ellis (at that time, one of the richest men in America), made mother the first woman Vice President ever in all of his many banks. Later, Ellis National Bank became NCNB, then NationsBank, and now Bank of America. Altogether, Mother worked in the bank in Tarpon Springs for 40 years, until her retirement on her 80th birthday on July 18, 1996.

My mother and father loved God dearly and tried to live their lives to help others. They were founding members of Crystal Beach Community Church, took us to Church and Sunday School every Sunday, and taught us to love God with all our hearts and souls. They spent time helping both of us to memorize hundreds of Bible verses after our homework was done.

At bedtime, they read us Uncle Wiggley stories, followed by a Bible story and then they would kneel down with us while we each said our nighttime prayers. Finally, we would say the Lord's Prayer all together.

We moved from Mississippi to Florida the day after I finished 2nd grade and my brother was not yet in school. When Mama and Daddy took me to Palm Harbor Elementary and Junior High School to enroll me in 3rd grade, we all sat in small chair around on of the low round wooden tables, along with my new teacher, Mrs. Wiseman. As she talked to them, always calling them Mr. Paulk or Mrs. Paulk, I was busy evaluating this kindly old woman with gray hair and a warm, soft kind voice sitting to my right.

When it seemed everything was completed, I notieced her lean forward and looking quickly up at her, I saw her look my father straight in the eye as she said, "Now, Jesse, I have only one more thing to say to you and it is this: I am absolutely certain that I am going to enjoy having Virginia in my class and teaching her every bit as much as I enjoyed teaching you!"

It turned out that she had taught my father in the red brick, one-room school house (now School House Restaurant on Alt-19 on the way to Tarpon Springs), her first year out of teacher's college and still single. Now, more than 3 decades later and only 3 years away from her retirement, my Daddy's teacher was going to teach me.

My mother loved to sew, cook, and tend her plants and flowers, both in the house and in the yard. Daddy loved all nature - rocks, trees, animals, birds, and fish, and enjoyed working in the yard planting flowers for my mother and planting trees and hedges. Daddy also loved to hunt and fish and taught both me and Michael to fish and be out in the water with him.

My mother taught Sunday School at Crystal Beach Community Church. My father sang in the choir. Michael and I both sang in the Children's Choir and also played the bells. I also sang in the girls' trio. Long before CBCC had automatic chimes installed, until he went to college, my brother Michael spent one hour every evening at 6pm playing the church chimes, which could be heard throughout Crystal Beach. We would wait supper until he got home.

On my 13th birthday, September 12, 1961, Daddy died suddenly of a heart attack. Although it was certainly difficult to be a single mom in the 1960s, my mother continued to work and raise Michael and me. One of her proudest accomplishments was being able to see us both not only graduate from high school but also put us through college as well.