Grandmother

This column is dedicated to acknowledge examples of positives that express the community spirit of Column — our town.

Say the word “Grandmother” and the responses are many and varied. Usually, one will hear kind comments that portray a woman who has loved you very dearly.

Many folks in Columbus know my talented friend, Tracy Wegenhoft. Tracy is a highly respected retired teacher. You will probably see her as a volunteer at the Nesbitt Library and the Live Oak Art Center. She is a lover of animals and particularly adept at caring for animals that need a helping hand.

Recently, Tracy joined a group known as Senior Smiles (they regularly entertain residents at the local nursing homes/assisted living facilities). Tracy’s presentation about grandmothers received many compliments. I asked her to share the stories with you. Tracy had two quite different grandmothers and I will quote some of her remembrances from her perspective.

The first grandmother was her mother’s mother (Lallie). The real name was Gladess Mae (Campbell Casey). I was closer to her than to anyone else in the world. She was born in Louisiana in 1904. She was the middle child of five siblings. Her father died when she was six. Mother left for California; Lallie was left behind. She lived with black sharecroppers and was passed along from family to family. She was in the fields picking cotton like everyone else. She eventually wound up in Texas living and working for white people. She married at age sixteen. The husband was an educated banker but turned to the oilfields when the big gushers struck. There was much traveling and times were hard. She lost two babies, but three beautiful girls survived to adulthood.

It was the Depression and they struggled to provide for the young family. She took in sewing and washing to help make ends meet.

During WW2, her grandmother was the real “Rosie the Riveter”. She built B52 bombers for the military.

Sometimes, we’d get to spend a whole weekend with grandmother. I remember helping her hang clothes on the line while my brothers made little cities in the dirt. They’d put horn toads in penny match boxes and pretend to drive them.

In summertime, she’d fill a number #4 washtub and turn on the sprinkler for us. We’d splash around like it was heaven. All the while, grandmother was sitting on the back steps reading her Women’s Day Magazine.

Lallie’s kitchen was a place of wonderment. There were smells of good food, but also there were art projects here and there. Grandmother also kept a kiln in her kitchen. She not only taught me ceramics, but she also taught me how to sew. When it was just the two of us, she’d pull out the old 78 rpm records and teach me how to dance.

There were wonderful times at the lake where we were taught to water ski. When we were not in the lake, we were out exploring and catching tarantulas. My best memories at the lake were the Fourth of July. We’d have watermelon, ice cream & cake, hot dogs & potato salad. It was one of the few times we’d get to have soda pop. There is much more to tell about Grandmother Lallie. She was the best grandmother in the world.

My second grandmother’s name was Googie (Guy-gi). She was her father’s mother. She was a child of the dust bowl of Texas. She wasn’t poor or under-privileged. She came from a well-to-do family in Vernon, Texas. She was small, very white skinned with reddishbrown hair and clear blue eyes. I wouldn’t say she was beautiful because she inherited a pug nose from her father. She often took them to visit my father’s mother … my great grandmother. Her name was Mee-Mamma. Mee-Mamma lived in a great big house. It was full of scary animal heads looking down at us. When we went to visit her, we made sure that we minded our manners. She always had special candies that she served us on a silver tray. I did not like those candies, especially that orange peel. It was like eating sugared leather.

In her back yard, she kept Shetland ponies. I constantly hounded my parents to get me one. They would just sigh and roll their eyes. Mee-Mamma always had parakeets at her house. I couldn’t bear to see the little birds in a cage, so I would open the door and let them out.

Googie would never be seen without her red rouge and orange/ red lip stick. She had beautiful clothes and lovely jewelry. Even if she was just going to the grocery store, she would put them all on. She drove a red and white Thunderbird convertible; we would fight over who would get to sit in the front seat. We loved that car.

Googie loved the game of bridge. One day during a bridge party, I hid under a fancy tablecloth. My aunt was supposed to be watching us, but I escaped during her soap opera. I was spell-bound looking at the ladies’ beautiful shoes. I accidentally touched one of the little baubles on a lady’s shoe. She leaped up thinking it was a mouse. Now the gig for me was over. I was banished to the back of the house.

Christmas was a wonderful affair at Googie’s house. She decorated everything and made us fudge and divinity. The only thing we didn’t like were her mince meat pies.

Googie did not live to see me grow up, but I think she would be proud to know that she taught me how to be a young lady and to mind my manners.

Now that you’ve enjoyed Tracy’s grandmother stories, do recall your own and share them around the Thanksgiving table.