As memories fade and then resurface I am reminded of the true beauty of the phases of our lives. The moments that separate time from ordinary into spectacular - the happiness and joy that is paired with tragedy and sadness. Sometimes it is more difficult than others to realize the true gift it is to live the lives we are given. I think Nannie new that and although she was fragile at times she had the strength to smile and rise again with the same grace and class that she had embodied before. Always.
In 1979 Nannie would marry John Edward Cato, who was known by friends and family as Buddy. Buddy had retired from the United States Postal Service in the early 1970s after serving in a long time position as Postal Inspector. A job that was based in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Upon retirement and a divorce he had returned to his hometown where his only family resided. After a brief stay at his Uncle and Aunt, Clyde and Beatrice "Bea" Woodruff's home, he settled into the Wingo Apartments on Hall Street next door Mr. and Mrs. (Christine and Harold) Wingo's florist and he later purchased a home on the corner of Hamby Avenue and Russell Streets. Buddy was the son of Joseph and Dessie Cash Cato, whom at the time of his return to Dawson Springs had both already passed away. Nannie and Buddy's courtship led to marriage and the two moved into Nannie's home on South Main Street. They would later sell this home in addition to Buddy's home and purchase a home together at 600 Russell Street. The home on Russell Street had been built and lived in By Edward and Dorothy Simons.
It would be during this time in the fall of 1981 that I was born, I would grow up to know Nannie and Buddy as my grandparents and they would live there at 600 Russell Street until both of their deaths. It was also during this short period that Nannie would suffer an injury while working at Ottenhiemers that would lead to back surgery, and her retirement. I would come to know her in a time when her life was slowing down, she had more time to visit with family, decorate and shop. In the early eighties she would also lose both of her parents.
First in 1981 her father, Ollie J. Russell, would die at the age of eighty one from lung cancer. The loss of her father would be one that would strike her to the very core. A man who had been known as Ollie J, Judge, Daddy, and Papaw, died in Caldwell County Hospital. He had been retired for many years from the VA at Outwood. He was an avid gardener, a faithful Christian, and beloved husband. Nannie would recall her days of milking the cows with her Dad, among fond stories of sitting next to him at the family table at the "old home place" while growing up. Papaw Russell had long been revered as an honest and good man. A man that was often called upon to say prayers over the sick, a man who had worked hard, good to his family and to his neighbors. I have often been told that he had the ability to witch water, a gift in those days that helped determine a lucrative spot to dig wells. He was certainly a jack of all trades. He had been married to Myrtle Johnston Russell since 1919, adding up to sixty two years. Papaw Russell was the father of eight children, and had lived to experience the loss of one of his sons William, who died in a car accident just outside of Saint Louis, Missouri in 1965. He was a grandfather of eleven grandchildren who loved him and enjoyed spending time at his house "up on the hill." The family gathered at Beshear Funeral Home where "When the Roll is Called Up Yonder" was sang and he was buried among many family members in the Isley Cemetery.
Later in 1983, Nannie's mother Mrtyle Russell died at the age of eighty five. Mamaw who had been ill for several years was spoke of as a constant source of kindness. A resourceful and hardworking mother, who loved nothing more than to have her family gathered around her for Sunday dinners, holidays and special occasions. Mamaw had pinned yellow ribbons to her porch in the days of the second World War and prayed that her two boys would return to her safely. She had been the person that wanted the family to move into town. She had boiled clothes and linens in an iron kettle over a fire and scrubbed them over a wash board. There is no possible way to imagine the amount of goods that she preserved and canned for the winter months over the years, the meals that she cooked, the clothes and quilts that she made. The thing that were all in a days' work for her, she would live to see become easier tasks, task that her own daughters would later find ways to make quicker or obsolete.. But never would they try to improve the Sunday dinners that she hosted - fish fries, barbeques, the fried chicken, the roasts, the holiday turkeys and hams, and never in this family could we forget the desserts. We all know that the Russell's love desserts! After all this… she too would pass the baton and leave a large family to mourn her loss. She joined her husband at Isley Cemetery, surrounding the church that they had been members of for so many years.
I know that the burden of losing both of her parents so close to the loss of my grandfather Decola was a huge weight on her heart. After the loss of her parents she would work together with her cousin John Lush Russell and her own brothers and sisters to create the Russell Reunion. An event that would be held annually to gather the descendants of William and Lenora Russell, the original group that had once lived, romped and played on the lane near the "old home place." This reunion would be an important undertaking in her life and over the years she would reunite cousins and family members that would gather long after her death, as this reunion still takes place -although the crowd has grown sparse.
Also, during this time of her life Trisha and Bill would move to Washington, D.C., where Bill would work for the state department. A job that would lead to their first assignment in Brasilia, Brazil. A mixture of worry and concern would be paired with a great deal of pride surrounding this move and Nannie would look forward to their return but boast of their good measure while they were away.
It is around this time that my own memory kicks in. I remember quite well Christmas Day Dinners in the living room at Nannie and Buddy's house. To me her house was a show place and the living room was a room that we did not inhabit much, except on holidays and special occasions. A stately brick home nestled on a street with no outlet, made for less traffic and a peaceful existence. The basement was the home of their two Oldsmobile's, usually a ninety eight olds and a delta eighty eight, the same year but different colors. It was in those days that my sister and I would receive our three dollar a week allowance from Nannie - money that I often saved or hoarded - a trait I wished I had today. Nannie's room had a sitting room as well, equipped with a sofa, a rocking chair and an arm chair and of course her beautiful twin bed set that is now in my Mom and Dad's home. The living and family rooms were parallel to one another and this is where Mom and Trisha would prepare the Christmas dinners to go along with Buddy's turkey. In the family room the men would gather in the sitting area discussing what was happening in the world at the time or the current sports season - Buddy keeping the tempo. While my sister and I would be making snow angels on the plush and almost white carpet. It was there in the living room surrounding a fully decorated and lit tree that my sister and I would open present after present at that time of year. Seated near a regal mantle piece over a fire place that was never lit we enjoyed many happy times. The furniture and things in that room seemed to sit as if they were made to be there and it was this room that I felt was one of beautiful rooms of my life. And year after year my sister and I would look forward to our picture being taken with Nannie before the fireplace.
To be continued...
{This is part of a series of blogs about my grandmother, Brunette Russell Franklin Cato, titled: Brunette.}
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