Hungry one afternoon, I raced home ahead of John, hoping there might be a leftover biscuit and slice of salt pork or piece of cornbread left from dinner. Opening the kitchen door, I was surprised to see Mama and a guest sitting at the table drinking coffee. Mama had neighbors popping in all the time, but this guest had skin the color of deep chestnut. Continue reading
Kathleen
Kathleen’s Vintage Letter from The Great Depression
Kathleen had just gotten the results of an achievement test when she was in the fifth grade when she wrote this letter to her sister, Annie. I believe she was a bit full of herself, but did remember to ask after her sister. I will transcribe since it is hard to read. Continue reading
Swapping Lunches (from Kathleen’s Memoirs of The Great Depression)
I was fascinated with the twins, Velda and Melba Peterson, from a family of eleven kids on a poor farm way down in the low country. Their daddy “drank.” They often came to school beaten and bruised. They carried their lunch in a silver-colored syrup bucket and ate it under a big oak on the Continue reading
Annie and the Hinsons
Pictured is Annie Lee Holdaway 1941
Excerpt from Kathleen’s Memoirs of The Great Depression
To my great sorrow, Annie had finished all ten grades in Cuthand. On Mr. Kinnebrew’s recommendation, she’d gotten a position as mother’s helper to Mrs. Hinson, his wealthy aunt who lived almost adjoining the Clarksville High School. Judge and Mrs. Hinson were one of the most prominent families in Clarksville. They’d had only one child, Laura, who was “sweet but simple.” They’d always doted on Laura, giving her a privileged, though very protected life. Unfortunately, Mrs. Hinson was hospitalized for a while when Laura was about fifteen, leaving Laura in the care of the housekeeper by day and her father at night. The gardener who clearly saw how they doted on Laura was able to woo and win her without her mama’s interference. Naturally, she fell for the first man to ever allowed to pay attention to her, even though he was nearly fifty. When he caught the housekeeper was too busy to notice, the old goat slipped her off to marry one afternoon.
He convinced Laura to keep the secret of their marriage until it was obvious a baby was on the way. Not surprisingly, for the sake of decency and their daughter’s happiness, the Hinsons did their best for Laura and her family. Laura wanted her useless husband. He had enough sense to know which side his bread was buttered on, so was always good to her and the children, though he never worked again. The Hinsons built her a nice house, adjoining theirs. Over the next few years, Laura had a large brood, but was never capable of keeping house or caring for the children, so Mrs. Hinson had a housekeeper to take care of the house and help with the children. Annie’s job was feed and dress the school kids off in the morning and make sure they got their homework in the evening. For this she got room, board, a small salary and generous bonuses. She had to be there Monday afternoon through Friday morning. It was a wonderful job for a high-school student. It broke my heart to see her catching a ride in with the mail carrier at six am on Monday morning, but was the high point of the week when he dropped her back off Friday afternoon, full of tales of the Hinsons, high-school, or life in Clarksville. She always managed to bring me a tiny gift or two, such or a damaged book or toy one of the kids no longer wanted. Best of all, was a piece of Laura’s candy.
Any story Annie brought me from her time at the Hinson’s was golden. Though Laura was simple, she had a gift for making candy. Hotels, stores, and high end business competed for the confections she she’d learned early to make candy at the hand of the housekeeper who raised her. Her husband was only too happy to serve as delivery man for her, selling all the candies Laura cared to make. What a stroke of luck for him! He’d married the goose who laid the golden egg!
Jimmy Sasses Sweet Miss Billie
Sweet Miss Billie 
This is an excerpt from my book in progress. It is a collaborative memoir of my mother’s memoirs of The Great Depression.Pictured above you can see Kathleen Holdaway, left to right from grades 1 through 5 Please don’t be too hard on Miss Billie. Corporal punishment was an accepted part of education at that time.
I adored Miss Billie, my first grade teacher. I hungered for her approval, strived for perfect work, and admired every thread she wore, her floral scent, her ladylike jewelry, and her kind, modest manner. Heaven could have granted me no greater wish than to grow up and be just like her. And above all this, Miss Billie was fair and gentle. One day after lunch Jimmy Wilson shocked us all by “sassing” Miss Billie, earning me the privilege of serving as message bearer to Mr. Kinnebrew, her husband and the principal. I proudly carried a note concealed beneath red and white checked napkin covering the lunch basket Miss Kinnebrew packed for them daily. I almost felt like a member of the family, being on such intimate terms. I knocked shyly, intimidated by the powerful man. He opened the door just a crack, took the basket, and returned it to me moments later, without a word, to my great relief. I returned the basket to Miss Billie, got her smiling nod in return, and scurried back to my seat.
She, Jimmy, and the covered basket exited the room. The entire class gave the door just time enough swing closed before rushing to claim prime viewing spots at the large crack afforded by a missing panel, the faster, more aggressive kids and the lucky ones in the back rows getting the best views. Despite our enthusiasm to see the show, we restrained ourselves sufficiently not to push the door open and fall out into the hall in harm’s way. After a quick lecture on manners and respect, Miss Billie had Jimmy bend over, grasp his knees, pulled Mr. Kinnebrew’s belt from the dainty basket, doubled it and gave him three stinging licks across his backside. As Jimmy rubbed his bottom, Miss Billie tucked the belt beneath the napkin, took Jimmy by the arm, and led him back to the classroom, just ahead of the thunderous sound of the class returning its seats, which she somehow failed to notice. No mention was made of how Mr. Kinnebrew was to keep his pants up the rest of the day, since neither the basket nor the incident was referred again, but Jimmy was respectful the rest of the year. I think he’d seen a new side of Sweet Miss Billie. It was an altogether edifying and satisfying experience for the rest of us.
John’s Tragedy (Part I from Kathleen’s Memoirs) Part 2 and update to follow
When John was in the army stationed in New Orleans, we got a letter from him saying he’d married a girl named Wanda. It included a studio picture from Wanda, too, introducing herself. They’d see us some time soon when John got leave. Before too many months, there was a letter there was a Continue reading
V Mail
This
is a V Mail Kathleen Holdaway received from her sister Annie Holdaway. V mail was photocopied mail used during WWII to cut down on mail. Annie was in the Women’s Continue reading
Kathleen and the Phantom Killer
(How my parents met in June 1945. My mother had just graduated and was working as a waitress while she waited to start college that fall, when she met my father. From her memoirs I am currently writing.)
After I graduated, I looked forward to being a lawyer or a teacher for a few years before settling down with a doting husband, maybe a doctor or judge, in a nice little house in town Continue reading
You Catch More Flies
The school was buzzing about the play. The community was putting on a play at the school. The adults, not the kids! According to Sarah Nell, the snottiest girl in school, her mama was the teacher’s best friend. Her mama was going to be in the play! Maybe my mama could be in the play. I flew home at noon to tell the news. Mama was shocked! She squashed that idea like a bug. “No, I’m not going to be in a play. I am not interested in that kind of foolishness! I have more to do than get up and parade myself around in front of folks like I think I’m something special. Now wash your hands and eat. You’ve got to get back to school on time.”
I was very interested in that kind of foolishness. “Well, can we go to the play? It only costs a quarter for adults and a dime for kids. They’ll have an ice cream social afterwards.
“No. That would be close to a dollar for all five of us. Our rent is three dollars a month. I am already doing Miss Lonie’s wash to pay that. We don’t have money to waste on a play. It’s going to take me all day today to finish Miz Watson’s dress. I need the dollar I get from that to put on the bill at Miss Lonie’s store. I’m hopin’ there will be enough scraps left from Miz Watson’s dress to trim that dress I’m makin’ for you. I have two matchin’ feedsacks saved back for it.” She went on with her budgeting plans as my spirits plunged, knowing I wasn’t going to the play. I dawdled my way back to school not wanting to admit to Sarah Nell I wasn’t going to the play. I needn’t have worried. She wasn’t interested in me, anyway.
The evening of the play, I watched the comings and goings at the schoolhouse enviously, as long as Mama let me stay outside. For once, living almost on the school yard was not an advantage, giving me a prime view of all I was missing. Had I even suspected what I was missing, I’d have grieved even harder. It seems Sarah Nell’s mother was in the middle of the performance when Sarah Nell swallowed a fly, along with her ice cream. Panicking, she raced to her mother on the stage. Just as Sarah Nell reached the heroine, she vomited copiously all over her, bringing the performance to an end. There was no encore.
Nutsrok 