Frienship in 1993
Lauren and I considered Mamaw and Papaw’s to be another home. Not much was off limits—what was theirs was ours. They were quite patient with us. As an adult I recognize their place was an open door of learning opportunities—a smorgasbord for the senses, unending exploration for the imagination—in Friendship, Alabama. Mama dropped us off on Friday afternoon with our purple duffle bags that said in gold “Tallassee Tigers” with a gold tiger paw underneath (which came from “Tiger Paws” downtown). Lauren had an array of dolls and animals: Molly and Jelly Bear for certain…and any other toy she could carry. I may have Samantha (Molly and Samantha were our American Girl dolls) and a few other toys but for certain I brought my hot pink Caboodle with a purple handle (I was an aspiring teenager from preschool). The Caboodle carried Teen Spirit deodorant, Cover Girl powder, a curling iron, and Lip Smackers Chap Stick. Mama pulled her silver Volvo station wagon into the driveway around the pool privacy fence around the carport right next to the fig trees. Fig trees with the sweetest plump figs you could eat. To the front was a large Magnolia tree with sweet smelling large white blossoms. Its branches were perfect for climbing--a common tree attribute on their farm. Underneath the Magnolia was a stone sidewalk leading to the front porch. In front of the fig trees was a raised brick flower bed with old fashioned roses from Grandmother Funderburk (her mother). Mamaw spoke fondly of her mother. Lauren and I thought fondly of her too.
Fortunately Grandmother Funderburk made an extensive scrapbook filled with pictures and paraphernalia. Mamaw, Lauren and I spent hours looking through her scrapbook (that aunt Nita eventually had laminated) and listening to Mamaw’s stories of driving the family’s model T, riding the family mule, and climbing trees with our great Uncle Charles on their home place about two miles away.
To the right of the station wagon behind the fig trees was the cotton field and Papaw humming down the rows on his tractor. At 69 he was still farming strong. Off in the distance we could see the Milners brick house. And the long dirt road that carried us to Mamaw and Papaw’s “back place” where we also used to live. Beside the last fig tree was a homemade bird feeder.
Bird food was left over cornbread and other scraps—she had the best fed birds in Alabama. Nathan and I estimate that Mamaw has probably cooked at least 20000 pans of cornbread in her lifetime –no hyperbole- a conservative estimation.
The feeder was a hub cap perched on a fence post. To our left was their house—built by Papaw—which was remodeled and bricked before I was born. Four big windows were on the left side. The back window had another bird feeder shaped like a house that hung from the eve. The birds were practically pets! She kept a bird watching book on Papaws desk in the den. The back of the house had a covered patio. The entrance had screen door. The wooden door was painted yellow. The wood on the screen door was the same. In the window next to the door we could see the curtains with little sail boats. The patio had 2 metal lawn chairs and a little bench that my dad made. Every year Mamaw painted them (throughout my childhood they were several colors). But my favorite part of the patio was the little wooden swing that hung from the ceiling. Mamaw told me that it originally hung at the appropriate height for adults but she lowered it so it would be the perfect height for the grandchildren.
And they had a slew of grandchildren. First were Lisa and Laura (whom they lovingly called the “first crop”). Then came the “second crop”: me (Katherine), Will, Jay, Lauren, Grant (I can’t remember between the two who was born first).
Mamaw and Papaw lowered the swing so that a small child could sit down easily. From the patio was a very large carport. Large enough for their car and truck as well as a picnic table barrels for dog and cat food, a shelves with truck supplies, wheel bearer, and three bicycles: mine, Lauren’s, and best of all my daddy’s childhood bike (red with silver fenders). We kept our bicycles there because Mamaw and Papaw had the very best place to ride bikes. In between the patio and car port was a stone walkway filled-in with gravel. In the front corner of the carport were the dog’s water bowl and an old metal water pump. Behind the carport was the pool. Oh the pool! What Papaw said when we visited him in the V.A. nursing home a few weeks ago was perfectly true: “That pool was a good-un; got a lot of use out of it.” We sure did… and a lot of memories too. It was an in-ground pool with another large patio, a diving board (where I learned to dive), and a concrete walk-way all around. They had gravel poured around the walkway and a privacy fence. The gravel served as the perfect place to gather a rock collection.
Lauren and I were not the first to discover this. Stephanie, Charlie, Lisa and Laura were amongst the first. They took some of the rocks and painted pictures on them. The Second Crop of kids excavated the art. (When I was really young I thought they were natural.)
There was a flower bed between the carport and pool patio. I remember the plants were tall with pretty orange blooms. My mom says they were Cannas. Beside the corner of the carport and the pool patio was a large pear tree, not good for climbing but perfect for making pear preserves. Mamaw made fig, pear, and blackberry preserves every year. Wild blackberries grew all around! The cotton field curved behind the pool. Lauren and I grabbed our duffle bags and paraphernalia and crunched along the gravel toward the patio. The back door was open with the screen door closed and latched with a small hook. We walked up to the door and called for Mamaw. She walked from the kitchen on the right into the “utility room” to let us in. “Well, well, look who’s here,” she said as she opened the screen door and gave us a hug. She need not instruct us—we made our way straight to the front bedroom: through the utility room to the right into the kitchen and then down the L shaped hallway—the bedroom on the right and bathroom on the left. Mamaw and Papaw’s utility room was large with a half bath on the left (where Papaw shaved), a washer and dryer on the right with a utility sink in between.
It was this sink where Mamaw played beauty parlor with Lauren and me. We lay flat on the dryer with our head over the sink. Mamaw washed our hair with the sprayer (which I thought was so much fun), comb it out VERY slowly so that not ONE tangle hurt. Then…oh then…she would pull out her hair dryer. The hair dryer was placed on the kitchen table. It was the kind they have in salons that we pulled over our head like a helmet—so cool! Then of course Lauren and I traveled down the hall to the big bathroom which had a built-in make up counter. In the drawer Mamaw kept her nail polish—Lauren and I painted away.
The back of the utility room had a large deep freezer where they kept all of their frozen vegetables from the garden, ice cream, sherbet, and bacon. Their house always smelled of fresh vegetables (peas, turnip greens, and green beans), sausage, biscuits, and cornbread: a conglomeration of all of the meals Mamaw cooked daily. Mamaw cooked a variety of meals but my favorite included: homemade biscuits, sausage and eggs, French toast and syrup, cornbread, roast beef, potato salad, homemade corn dogs, chicken and dumplings, meatloaf, cubed steak and gravy. The kitchen had three windows. One was over the sink in between the cabinets. Here Mamaw kept her aloe plant. She broke a piece for Lauren and me and we played with the gelled inside and rubbed the aloe on our hands. The next wall had two windows. The kitchen table set in between the windows. One side of the table had a bench. The grandkids always sat on the bench—gladly! I was an early riser so I awoke with Papaw early and ate a bowl of cereal: Cornflakes, Fruit Loops, or Rice Crispies. He went to work outside. I sat in the den and watched Nick Jr. (Yes, I was an innocent 10-year-old aspiring teenager). At about 7:00 or 7:30 Mamaw cooked a big breakfast. She baked biscuits every day. She usually gave Lauren and me a piece of dough to play with. Mamaw also pulled out her electric skillet and cooked French toast which we ate until even sitting was uncomfortable we were so full. She used thick bread because she said it cooked better.
Mamaw started cooking French toast for us when I was in the first grade. When I was seven, I traveled with Mamaw and Papaw to Washington DC during Spring Break (although I think we called it AEA week back then). It was my first time flying in an air plane. Boarding the delta plan from the Montgomery Airport was a dream. Mamaw later said that she was afraid that I would cry during the flight out of fear and discomfort but no such thing occurred. What she didn’t know is that for at least the past four years of my childhood I stared from my backyard in amazement at the planes flying overhead. How neat would it be to get their view of the world! So the plane ride in and of itself was enough to make my entire year! But in addition to the plane ride—I was traveling to our nation’s capital. Several educational videos prepared me for the trip—my favorite was “American School House Rock.” If your familiar with the songs then you know I could wait to visit “Capitol Hill” where the pass “Bill”s. From books I read about famous Presidents I was thrilled to visit all of the monuments and memorials. So we boarded the plane—I with my very own pink and purple camera (from which I took all of my own pictures…much to everyone’s regret) and my mother’s childhood stuffed animal “Pepper” the dog. I stared out of the window the entire flight. (I’m still enthralled by planes and jets…I just have to take Dramamine today to conquer the flight without a green face.) Anyone who has traveled with me to a rich location full of famous sights knows that I get so excited that I zoom like a bullet from one sight to the next. I think I kept Mamaw in a state of panic. She couldn’t keep up with me. They never lost their patience though. They just laughed because they know I was soaking in every patriotic moment. Papaw attended a meeting for farmers. Then we went sightseeing: memorials, monuments, museums, the Capital building, and the White House. We saw President Bush (Senior)’s helicopter land on the White House front lawn. Back then you could walk up to the fence (I stuck my hand through the fence and touched the grass). On the plane ride home they fed us breakfast. I asked Mamaw what my breakfast was called, “French Toast” she said. I told her I loved it. So she always cooked French toast for Lauren and me.
Lauren and I sat on the bench, watched her cook, and talked about our adventures in the Capital City. After breakfast we decided if we wanted to play inside or outside first. We stuck together most of our time on their farm. Mamaw kept her homemade desserts (which could be caramel cake, divinity, pies, cobbler, or blueberry muffins)in the dining room, which regular dining room furniture and an antique wooden radio that still worked.
Lauren and I dressed in outfits from Mamaw’s old clothes closet and wore her shoes. We pretended to live in the 1940s. That era always fascinated me. I suppose we liked the family pictures during that time…Mamaw and Papaw’s wedding picture with Papaw in his uniform and Mamaw’s stories. We pretended that we lived back then. We made our house in the foyer by the living room. This room was perfect because we didn’t have to clean up. It was out of the way, except when Mamaw carried her peas and pecans to the front porch to shell. Then we’d join her outside and help. We all sat together, shelled, and watched the cars go by. We played a game. Mamaw, Lauren, and me each chose a color. Whoever was first to see five cars in their color won the game.
In the front bedroom Mamaw kept her cloth and sewing materials. We put together sewing projects—mainly pillows and dolls. I’m amazed at how patient she was with us and generous. She never restricted how much of her materials we used. She delighted in our creations. The back bedroom had a King sized bed. Mamaw, Lauren, and I slept in that bed when we stayed overnight. We took turns telling stories. We always told “The Three Bears” and “The Three Little Pigs.” The king size bed also transformed into a magnificent stage. When the second crop was together we performed many plays. It was not uncommon for kids to go through an unfriendly Junior High stage. Not our cousins. They were always kind—always! They came from Birmingham AL and Columbus GA. All of us together added to the enchantment of Friendship.
In the den we played at Papaw’s desk. There we found typing paper, crayons, markers, a typewriter, and printing calculator, stapler, scissors, and tape. Underneath the TV cabinet Mamaw kept her catalogs. Sometimes Lauren and I would play office. Sometimes I would write and illustrate storybooks. I may draw the illustrations or I would cut the pictures out of catalogs and tape them together.
After Mamaw cooked breakfast and cleaned the house she would sit in the font bedroom queen bed and read “Dear Abby” and the comic strips. We read these with her, lying on our backs with one leg propped on the other knee. Then it was time for a midmorning snack. The three of us headed to the kitchen to make a milk shake, talk about life: school mostly. We told Mamaw about our friends (she always knew them because they came to play and swim), what teachers we wished to have the following school year, funny stories from the previous year. Lauren and I washed our glasses and went outside.
The other side of the house was where we explored. Next door to Mamaw and Papaw was the white house where Papaw was born. The inside was used for storage. The kitchen was in the back and was tiny. The white house had a very large front porch. Sometimes Mamaw carried her peas and pecans to the white house porch because it had more shade with a better breeze. We’d join her there as well. Diagonally behind the white house was a big garden, two gas pumps, a barn, and a tractor shed. Papaw had a big, blue flatbed truck. I seem to remember the truck being used one year during “Trade Day” for a band’s stage. The flat bet truck was parked in the barn. Stairs led to a hay loft above. To the left were copies of “Time,” “National Geographic,” and “Reader’s Digest” magazines. Pecan trees were sprinkled throughout the yard in various places.
Another pasture was on the other side of the barns that was a hay field. The hay was rolled. The second crop learned that we could take turns standing on a hay roll and the rest of us could push. Walking on top of a moving hay roll was yet another fun game.
A hurricane came through at one point almost knocking down their pecan trees. The tree was left leaning with the root ball pushed up from the ground. After Papaw cleaned the limbs from the trunk, he left the trunk to keep growing. The angle of the trunk and what was left of one branch made a lounge chair of sorts. I sat on my perch reading a book or just thinking. It was a great little place to just be alone in my thoughts. Beverly Cleary was my favorite author.
The tractor shed housed Papaw’s “Cotton Picker,” his tractors, and his lawn mowers. In the afternoon Mamaw or Papaw traveled to the back place in the truck. That’s when I got to drive. Mamaw or papaw would have me practice parking around the hay rolls.
For the rest of the afternoon we rode bikes, swam in the pool, ate snacks, and helped Mamaw shell peas and pecans. In the evening we all ate a light supper: bowl of cereal, or maybe cornbread and milk. Papaw taught us to eat cornbread and milk. Then we’d watch Nick-At-Night: Mr. Ed, Green Acres are the shows I remember the most. Then off to the back bedroom to fall asleep, after of course telling one or two stories.
