If G_d makes angels of humans then I know one who is wearing a red blouse and black pants with her wings.Growing up she was the go to for me and many of my friends. I think she lived her whole life to doing for others.
She was an avid seamstress and worked for a long time at Merit Clothing in Mayfield.
When I was small I was embarrassed when other mothers would roll the collar of my shirt to see the logo for they wanted to by some for their child. Later I could not contain my pride. I had a couple of T`s that said “Clinton Milling Co.” on the back or front. Years later she made her own pattern and made a suit for my nephew because they could not find one small enough.
She and Vara Yates could out crappie fish just about any two men and she could shoot a rifle with anyone. I did not know this until one day we were fishing off of the west bank of Fish Lake and I had my 22 which always accompanied me back then.
She spotted a cottonmouth in a bush right beside where we were fishing and at 20 feet he became suddenly headless. I knew then why my dad never disagreed with her.
When I was working for my dad she would ask at breakfast what we wanted for lunch and supper and if we all gave a different preference she usually fixed all three. She knew that we would eat whatever she cooked for it would be delicious but she just liked to please folks.
Years later she went to work at the bulk plant with my dad. He, Tommie and I would all tell her that it took a good woman to run a business and three households. But that is all it was, a joke.
She, like Lois Beck was always prepared for any number at mealtime for she never knew how many we would bring home. I think she loved it.
She would help out at the Mission House in her later years and I do not know of a thing she enjoyed more her whole life except maybe her grand kids and greatgrand kids. She had a spell with her heart at the Mission House once and Lula Belle called me and said she would not let them call an ambulance for she did not want to leave them. I had to run down there to try but in the end it was Lula Belle who convinced her to go and I had to promise that my little doctor would see her if she was admitted. She thought he was the stuff.
I can`t say as much about her as the grand kids did in this letter. I think my granddaughter Kristin wrote it for all of them. Nick was still waiting to join the family when it was written. She drove to Mayfield every day to baby sit when they were little and then some.
My dad had been bitten by a cottonmouth and they hated snakes and would call me to get rid of one that climbed into a flower pot on her porch to wait for birds to light in the lattes. I would catch them and take them down into the field and let them go. I always assured her that I killed it. I am sure I carried off the same chicken snake several times. If it had been anywhere but in flowers it would have succumbed to the fate of her mean garden hoe. She nearly ruined my grand-kids teaching them how to properly dispatch a snake with a garden hoe.
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