My grandmother was born in 1903. Theodore Roosevelt was the president, at the time. Evaryone wore onions on their belt, because that was the fashion.
For some reason, I was reminded tonight of Mama's fears (we had a lovely thunderstorm this evening). Mama and Clem would hide in the closet if lightning came near. Considering the small space of the closets in those days, this was a feat comparable to the clowns in the tiny car at the circus. Kids were left to fend for themselves.
Later, Mama relied upon wrapping herself in a foam-rubber mattress-pad, with her feet on a rubber mat, on the plastic-covered couch in the sitting-room.
Mama was staying with us in Houston, back in the sixties. I was awakened by a thunderstorm, and decided to go downstairs. Mama and Madeleine (our dachshund) were huddled together under a quilt on the stairs. I made cocoa for Mama. The thunderstorm was over by the time the milk got hot. She still accepted the cocoa.
So, fear of lightning isn't the point of this essay.
Clem and Mama were afraid - of cars!
It must have been during the Taft administration when Mama and Clem first saw a car. They heard an awful noise, looked over the hill, and ran as fast as they could back to the house (a polite term for a shack). "It's a car!" cried Clem. They did well to notice the menace of car culture, as it turned out. At the time, they were merely frightened of the car itself.
They got over it, eventually.
The first airplane seen in the vicinity was noted by Grandaddy's mother in her diary. Interestingly, there were only two entries in her diary. One was when WWI started. The other was when Charles Lindbergh landed his aeroplane at Samson. Not that she saw this. But, she did note it in her diary.
Mama Barber truly hated Grandaddy's mother, Maragaret. You didn't hear this from me, but I heard it from Mama. Grandaddy's mother was very snobbish, and considered the Cumminses to be riff-raff and hillbillies. She may have had a point. Once, when the preacher unexpectedly came to visit(well,they saw him from a disance; his mule was distinctive) they had to roll great-uncle Elmo under a bed: he was very drunk at the time. Moonshine.
I only met Great-grandmother Margaret once. One of her sons (I don't remember his name) was living with her. They would move from house to house. He would restore a house (he was a very expert carpenter, a true artist at inlay-work), they would sell it, and move to another house. I wish I could remember his name, or that I knew what happened after Margaret perished from having her bathrobe catch fire due to a bathroom space-heatet misfortune. She was really old. Ninety, if she was a day, I'm thinking. Grandaddy was born in 1895, and he wasn't her youngest child..
Grandaddy's birth was during was during the second Cleveland administration. We all tied onions to our belts then, which was the style at the time. During the Wilson administration, they were renamed "Vicory Roots".
OK, one final anecdote, or maybe more. I dont't remember which sister had the scissors, but it was probably Claire. I think Louise would been too old for the story. I got this story from Babe Mason, friend of the family . Claire (or Louise) had the scissors, and Sis wanted the scissors. Why, I don't know. Anyway, Sis grabbed for the scissors. Oops. A blade pierced all the way through her hand. Big kerfuffle. Sis wound up getting taken to the nearby E/R by Mamas's sister Clem, who lived next door. Then everyone noticed: Mama wasn't around. So, Babe decided to look for Mama. Babe fpund her near the Honey Hut - about two miles down the road on HWY 90. Babe pulled up to intercept Mama, and asked where she was going.
"San Anonio!" Mama replied.
Babe talked her back into the car. Sis got over it. I'm not sure that Mama did, but at least she didn't make it to Knippa on foot. San Antonio was eighty miles away. Babe was a true friend of the family. She took Mama home. By that time, Sis was bandaged.
Mama didn't have my advantage of my psychiatric drugs to quell panic.
Message for Democrats:
DON'T PANIC
Also, know where your towel is. Two simple lessons. So little time left to apply them. Don't forget to donate to the DNC. Gotta help with the Denver convention, right?