knoxcotn-digest Thursday, December 9 1999 Volume 01 : Number 024

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Date: Wed, 08 Dec 1999 22:17:57 -0800

From: "Billie R. McNamara" <knox@tngenweb.org>

Subject: Fwd: Jan Philpot's Latest Musings: " When Mama Died"

Having been to a funeral at a country Baptist church today, helping lay a

dear friend who died too young to rest among his people, recollecting about

all the bits of my own genetic code that lay buried in another graveyard on

another hill, reading this tonight really dredged up a right powerful bunch

of emotions.

I keep saying it: "Jan is some writer...." She's given permission for

forwarding. Please remember to give her credit if you do.

=============================================================================

From: "j" <unicorn@sun-spot.com>

In a bit of a mood tonight, I guess, with reason. And thoughts went back to

those many folks we had who lived as all did, wealthy or poor made no

matter... with no idea when death would come knocking at the door...and

death not being fair about whom it would take. It was simply the price for

living, and they knew it, I think, far better than most of us accept it

today. They are sprinkled throughout my family tree, and yours too.

When Mama Died

I reckon in ever body's life there is somethin that changes it all, and I

reckon for me it was when I was eight and Mama died. But wasn't much

different from what a many went through, I don't reckon. And I reckon we

just did what most folks did, and luckier than most.

When Mama died there were ten of us, and Mary Belle was the eldest, but she

wasn't old enough to take care of us, being only eleven herself. And so

when Mama died we weren't real sure what that meant...only that one day she

didn't wake up and have the kitchen humming with bacon and eggs and a fire

started to keep us warm.

When Mama died we woke up cold and it was cold all the day long, because

Mama was cold. And the ladies from the church house, and Mama's sisters,

they come. And they washed my Mama and brushed her hair till it was sleek

and shiny, and got her ready to put in that black shroud. I reckon that is

the only time I ever knowed of Mama havin something new to wear, and it is a

shame it being a black shapeless thing like that. They washed up the baby

brother that never was a real brother too, don't reckon he even ever cried

like a real baby does, nor even saw anything at all in this world...only

they put him in a long white gown. And they took the old treadle sewing

machine that was my Aunt Bet's and Uncle Henry brought it up on the wagon.

And Aunt Bet and Miz Martha set there and made Mama that black shroud while

Uncle Henry and Papa pounded nails out at the barn making a coffin to lay

her in. For hours I heard that pounding, and ever time I heard it I thought

it was like makin it all final. Must have been what was goin through Papa's

mind too, cause I went out to talk to him and he didn't want to talk. Sweat

was pourin off his brow and down his cheeks and I think it was mixin with

tears, only I ain't never seen him cry. And he just went on a poundin and a

poundin, and Uncle Henry watched him a minute and tole me to get on back to

the house and look to the little ones.

And after a while, Uncle Henry and Papa climbed the hill and I knowed where

it was they was goin. Aunt Bet, she hugged us a lot, and her lips pursed up

like she was afraid if she didn't hold them tight something might come out

that wasn't what she wanted, but she didn't say nothin and just went back to

makin that black shroud, and I don't reckon any of us cept maybe Mary Belle,

quite understood what this was all about...but we knew one thing, cause we

seen it done enough. When folks make black shrouds, and pound nails to make

a box the size of a grown person, when they climb that hill out back, well

that means someone going to be buried IN that ground...and it mean they

ain't gonna be seen no more neither....leastways not on this earth they

ain't. When the preacher comes around, which ain't nothin but oncet a

month, if that, he says they's a better place than this and he says it so

fine that it is summer all the year around, and plenty to eat and always

warm. He says they is flowers ever where, and streets of gold runnin right

through the middle of it all...that ain't all he says. And sometimes he

gets lit up and his face gets red, gets to hollerin and jumpin and you can

feel the flames a lickin' at your toes, he makes it all seem so real. But

now I reckon Mama done gone to that place where it is summer all the year

round, and flowers ever where. Cause I don't know of nothin bad Mama ever

done. So anyhow, us youngins mostly hung back out of the way till Miz

Martha figured out we probly hadn't had nothin to eat and then she went to

the kitchen and fixed up a bait, and I reckon that was the first thing that

seemed right about all the day long, and so we ate but Papa did not. We

didn't see much of Papa at all. Seems like the makin of that coffin and the

diggin of that hole was what Papa had on his mind and he didn't much want to

be around us right then, it seemed.

When Mama died the house was full of folks, and Mama lay in that coffin all

still with that baby on her arm. And the folks set there all the night

long, and I reckon one after another of us got carried up to bed when we

fell asleep there wishing Mama would move and those folks would go away. I

kept starin at the pennies they layed on Mama's eyes, and thinkin that made

her look like somethin she was not and like whatever it was, it was starin

wide at the ceilin and listenin to us all carry on. But it wasn't Mama.

And next day Miz Martha tole us we best be kissing our Mama. I

reckon some of us did and some of us did not. I did. But she weren't

really Mama. Her cheek was cold and she didn't tell me to tuck my shirt in

nor grin and say "get on with ye!" nor nothin. And that is when I knew what

that preacher meant the time he said the body we lived in was just a house

for the soul to live in. Mama done moved out.

When Mama died seems like even ole Blackie knew somethin was bad wrong. He

didn't jump up on nobody, nor chase the cats, nor nothin. He just hung

round with his tail down waitin for something and I didn't know what and I

don't think he did neither. The little ones was even quiet, cept for Henry

Joe who kept tuggin at Papa and wanting to know why Mama would not get up.

I reckon even if the most of us was not real sure how or why our world was

changed, we knew it had.

When Mama died they put her in that hole that Papa and Henry Joe dug, and we

was told to each take a clod of the dirt and throw in after her...and I

reckon some of us did and some of us did not. Seemed like something I did

not want to do, but Papa looked at me stern and bein the oldest boy I did

what he said do. And Uncle Henry did the preachin and the prayin cause

weren't no preacher to do it unless we waited for two more weeks, and that

ain't somethin you can do. And it bothered me cause I could see snow was in

the clouds, and even if Mama already cold, something about knowin that snow

going to be piled up on that spot of fresh dirt didn't feel good and made me

want to tell them she gonna need a quilt or something. And we left Mama up

there on that hill, and come home...some us for the last time.

When Mama died, I reckon that was the last time we all lived under one roof

like one family. Henry Joe and baby Aaron went home with Aunt Bet, and that

is where they stayed. Cause Papa could not take care of them and Mary Belle

had her hands full lookin out for the rest of us and doin the cookin and the

washin and such. We helped her best we could, and Papa didn't put up with

nobody not. Mary Belle married three years later and the three least ones

went to live with her and her new husband. She married a boy from over on

the ridge who been left without his folks too, and little ones left behind.

They say they could take care of them all better they just do it together,

and I reckon they right. Married to give the little ones a home and did

nigh all right they did, and had a bunch of their own too. And Papa raised

the rest of us till he got sick hisself. And then we put him up there on

the hill by Mama. By that time I was fourteen so I was mostly a man, and

the girls they went to stay with Miz Martha's oldest girl Malissa, and the

boys they stayed with me and we made out best we could. So we got grown,

best we all knew how, and I reckon fact of it is some of us don't even know

"when Mama died" cause they would be hard put to say who they Mama even was

bein raised by Aunt Bet, or Mary Belle, or Malissa, or even by me. We just

done what folks did, and was right lucky we had folks and Papa lasted long

as he did.

That's how it was when Mama died.

------------------------------

Date: Thu, 09 Dec 1999 01:45:52 -0800

From: KnoxCoTN List Mistresses <tnknox@wdbj.net>

Subject: New! Trivia competition

Rose-Anne and Billie thought something that might be fun -- and hopefully

spark some discussion about Knox County history -- is to hold a trivia

competition each week. Here's how it will work:

This is a friendly competition! The contest will run from Thursday through

Sunday each week. Answer as many of the questions as you can. Send your

answers to tnknox@wdbj.net no later than Sunday evening at midnight,

Eastern Time.

Whomever gets the most correct answers with the earliest "postmark"

wins. The winner will get to choose 10 questions for the next week's

competition and send the questions to the List Mistresses no later than

Wednesday. Those questions will be sent to the whole list on Thursday. If

the winner for a particular week doesn't want to create a list of

questions, he or she can defer to someone else. The questions can cover

any period of Knox County history from the 1700's to the 2000's.

Answers to each week's questions will be posted to the list on Monday.

1. What years was Knoxville the Tennessee state capitol?

2. How did Knoxville get the nickname "Scruffy Little City"?

3. The first Knoxville newspaper was really published where when it

originated?

4. This man was born in County Antrim, Ireland, and moved to Knox County

about the time of the first settlement here. He served as entry-taker for

Sullivan County (NC/TN), helped finance the Battle of King's Mountain with

public funds he'd collected, had one of the first store-houses in Knox

County (when it was still Hawkins County), was appointed in 1792 as a Knox

County justice of the peace/member of the county court, was a member of the

first Board of Trustees of Blount College (now UT), a member of TN's first

constitutional convention, and was a member of the first board of elders of

First Presbyterian Church in Knoxville. He died in Knoxville in 1795 and

is buried in what is now Lynnhurst Cemetery, which was originally a part of

his homestead. Who was he?

5. What Tennessee counties were Knox County's parents?

6. Which church is believed by historians to be the first one organized in

Knox County?

7. It's not the oldest settlement in the area. So, why did Knoxville

become the predominant town in this part of East Tennessee?

8. What entities have had jurisdiction over present-day Knox County since

1700? (Hint: it's a bunch!)

9. The headquarters of the Tennessee Valley Authority is in

Knoxville. But, Congress originally mandated that it be elsewhere. What

city was supposed to be the home of TVA?

10. What was the first two-story, frame house built west of the

Appalachian Mountains?

------------------------------

End of knoxcotn-digest V1 #24

*****************************