| August 2003 | |
Modern times reach across centuries
At the risk of living up to the designation of “old coot,” here’s something else with roots in the past. In relating one of my “log cabin” stories recently, I mentioned talking to my great grandparents about “Grandma” coming to Texas from Alabama in a two-wheel ox cart. The person listening to the story said, “You should write about reaching across the centuries and how we’re not so far removed from those times.” “Oh, but we are,” I said. “While we may not be so far removed from memory of relatives three generations ago, we are greatly removed in terms of methodology and technology.” Still, the idea of “reaching across the centuries” had a ring to it and no small amount of fascination. As a child and a young man, I had the privilege to know some paternal and maternal great grandparents as well as a maternal grandmother. Great Granny Webb was 95 when she died in the early 1950s. Great Grandpa Smith made it to 86 and the mid-1950s. Great Grandpa and Grandma Thompson were 84 and 86 at their deaths in 1959 and 1960. Grandma “Mama” Mandeville lived to age 97 and died in 1992. My mother turned 87 Aug. 1. Having seen all of these relatives live to a grand old age gives me some hope for longevity even in our pressure-cooker world of deadlines, typos and “don’t print my name in the arrest report” kinds of threats. In thinking back to the little bit of oral history I was able to coax out of those grand old folks, I can see a lot of relevance to modern times. Five years before she died, Mama Mandeville had a lesson for me. It was as near to being critical as I ever heard her be. We were discussing a young relative whose wedding I’d attended about five months earlier and she said, “Well, you know, her baby’s due any minute now.” I suppose she noticed the wheels turning in my head as I calculated how far back the wedding was, so with just the slightest hint of a smile, Mama said, “You know how it is. When you order ’em from Sears & Roebuck, they get delivered faster.” I think perhaps that lesson and many that preceded it have helped me write issue-oriented editorials and columns rather than clawing at the faults of humans. Grandma Thompson came to Texas from Alabama in the late-1870s in that two-wheel ox cart. I asked if she was scared. “Well, I reckon I was a mite.” We can only imagine the uncertainties and fears she faced. Through the next clump of trees could have been a bunch of cutthroat thieves or a band of Native Americans on the warpath or bears or any number of natural disasters. Still, Grandma made it to Texas, married Grandpa and raised a family. What do we face today? Terrorism, stock market roller coaster rides and MTV. Mama Mandeville and the Grandparents Thompson lived on farms outside Teague where my family and I lived. As a teen-ager, most Saturdays it fell my lot to go to their house, pick up three grocery lists from each of them (comprised of the specials from each of the three grocery stores in Teague) and go back to town and buy the groceries. With the lists came three handkerchiefs each, with money tied up in them in the exact sum it took to pay for each grocery list. While they were not well educated and though I thought the practice a bit quirky, I realized later it was their way of planning, budgeting and living with what they had. There was no Social Security for them. It was grow a few things in the ground, keep hogs, cows and chickens and raise most things they needed to survive, then sell those items they had in some abundance. Most of the time we don’t think much about the 1800s or even the early 1900s because we didn’t live in those times. But, if you’re old enough to remember two or three generations of relatives, reaching across the centuries is no reach at all. And, it has plenty of relevance to how we live, manage and survive today. |
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