https://docs.google.com/document/d/10x6-95L_3tLcMPB1NJvVyTJyKCaZhw32l-nWG0cZvQg/edit?usp=sharing
June 18, 1986, written during Heather’s high school graduation
I tried to start keeping this journal in May, but somehow I’ve lost it - perhaps in a motel
in Wheeling, W. Va., perhaps in a Stuckey’s someplace. Anyway, this has been the most terrible year of my
life. Rod McGillis and I split up after three years. What a liberation to admit that he is finally a selfish,
childish bastard and that I am fortunate to be rid of him. But it hurt terribly and threw me into an acute state
of depression. Though I have not entirely recovered, I am no longer paralyzed.
in Wheeling, W. Va., perhaps in a Stuckey’s someplace. Anyway, this has been the most terrible year of my
life. Rod McGillis and I split up after three years. What a liberation to admit that he is finally a selfish,
childish bastard and that I am fortunate to be rid of him. But it hurt terribly and threw me into an acute state
of depression. Though I have not entirely recovered, I am no longer paralyzed.
In May after school was out, I went to a retreat at Wild Acres. Mount Mitchell, the highest point east of
the Mississippi was in view. I took long walks, wrote, and met some colleagues I had not known before. The
most memorable of these was Phillip Johnson of the Math Department. He married a year before I did, but
we had never met before. We took a wonderful hike and then sat together all afternoon talking, talking,
talking. He is happily married but I like him very much and believe I’ll see him again. In fact, he left me a
note before departing on his trip.
the Mississippi was in view. I took long walks, wrote, and met some colleagues I had not known before. The
most memorable of these was Phillip Johnson of the Math Department. He married a year before I did, but
we had never met before. We took a wonderful hike and then sat together all afternoon talking, talking,
talking. He is happily married but I like him very much and believe I’ll see him again. In fact, he left me a
note before departing on his trip.
Glenn and I went to Topsail Island for several days and reenacted our beach rituals - hours on the sand
and in those wonderful waves. I desperately want a house on that magnificent island - for myself and for the
girls, but the question is always money.
and in those wonderful waves. I desperately want a house on that magnificent island - for myself and for the
girls, but the question is always money.
Now I’m sitting at Heather’s graduation. I left home on June 11 and spent the night at Jellico, Tennessee.
The only notable event was a friendly tag game with an amiable truck driver. The mountains were splendid
smokey blue, just as they are supposed to be. The next day, June 12, I stopped and visited my Aunt Alice
in Lexington. One month ago she sustained a serious fall and crushed her left hand. I visited with her for
two hours. She told me that her live-in nurses knew more ways to spoil good food than she had ever
dreamed possible. She also told me about Aunt Lou’s courtship with Uncle Eugene Mattox - how she and
Aunt Lou were sitting under the walnut tree one morning in early June and how an encyclopedia salesman
came to the front door and wanted to sell Grandma some encyclopedias. He was a WWI veteran just home
from fighting the Germans in France and still wore his uniform - a Lieutenant’s Uniform. Grandma Moss
said she knew nothing about encyclopedias but her daughter might. Aunt Lou came and talked to him and
Aunt Alice stayed under the walnut tree drawing sketches of the pink gladiolas growing in the garden.
Bejeweled hummingbirds blue-green and brilliant visited the gaudy blossoms one by one, and Aunt Alice
wanted to draw them, too. Aunt Lou came back, Aunt Alice said, her dark lovely eyes flashing and her
creamy complexion aglow with a rosy blush. “I’m going to marry that man,” she exclaimed, “He’s tall and
handsome, a college graduate and a veteran. He graduated from Miss. Southern, just as I am going to.”
The only notable event was a friendly tag game with an amiable truck driver. The mountains were splendid
smokey blue, just as they are supposed to be. The next day, June 12, I stopped and visited my Aunt Alice
in Lexington. One month ago she sustained a serious fall and crushed her left hand. I visited with her for
two hours. She told me that her live-in nurses knew more ways to spoil good food than she had ever
dreamed possible. She also told me about Aunt Lou’s courtship with Uncle Eugene Mattox - how she and
Aunt Lou were sitting under the walnut tree one morning in early June and how an encyclopedia salesman
came to the front door and wanted to sell Grandma some encyclopedias. He was a WWI veteran just home
from fighting the Germans in France and still wore his uniform - a Lieutenant’s Uniform. Grandma Moss
said she knew nothing about encyclopedias but her daughter might. Aunt Lou came and talked to him and
Aunt Alice stayed under the walnut tree drawing sketches of the pink gladiolas growing in the garden.
Bejeweled hummingbirds blue-green and brilliant visited the gaudy blossoms one by one, and Aunt Alice
wanted to draw them, too. Aunt Lou came back, Aunt Alice said, her dark lovely eyes flashing and her
creamy complexion aglow with a rosy blush. “I’m going to marry that man,” she exclaimed, “He’s tall and
handsome, a college graduate and a veteran. He graduated from Miss. Southern, just as I am going to.”
Aunt Alice paused in her sketching, “Why, you’ll never see him again.” Aunt Lou replied: “Al, this is love.
You’ve heard of love at first sight? Well, this was three times as fast.”
You’ve heard of love at first sight? Well, this was three times as fast.”
“But, you are engaged to Connie Riggins.” “Not anymore.” Aunt Lou said.
Later that month my daddy hitched Grandma’s horses, Henry and Dixie Jane to the buggy and took
Aunt Lou to meet the train at the Frisco Depot in Amory. She had gone to Aberdeen, the county seat, and
taken the exam after completing the 10th grade. Then she got a job teaching in a one-room schoolhouse in
Acker, Mississippi, the original county seat of Monroe County. The first county in Mississippi, the site of the
Chickasaw Cession. Aunt Lou taught at what had been the first courthouse in the state where
Tishomingo was tried. He was the last of the Chickasaw War Chiefs. He and his people had to leave the
lush lands of pine-covered North Miss. and go West to Oklahoma. Most died on the trail of tears, but that
tragedy was 70 years behind Aunt Lou, a sturdy, full-bosomed, yet graceful young woman determined to
better herself. When I talked to her at age 92 in the nursing home, she said that Martha Virginia Duke had
not wanted to marry William Richmond Moss because he could neither read nor write and she was ashamed of him. She did not want to marry anyone but wanted to get an education at the Female Academy in
Oxford, but she couldn’t, even though she was smart and could recite Shakespeare and the Bible and
Pilgrim’s Progress and even went to meetings of the Dickens Society later. So she encouraged Aunt Lou,
the smartest and quickest of the children to get an education.
Aunt Lou to meet the train at the Frisco Depot in Amory. She had gone to Aberdeen, the county seat, and
taken the exam after completing the 10th grade. Then she got a job teaching in a one-room schoolhouse in
Acker, Mississippi, the original county seat of Monroe County. The first county in Mississippi, the site of the
Chickasaw Cession. Aunt Lou taught at what had been the first courthouse in the state where
Tishomingo was tried. He was the last of the Chickasaw War Chiefs. He and his people had to leave the
lush lands of pine-covered North Miss. and go West to Oklahoma. Most died on the trail of tears, but that
tragedy was 70 years behind Aunt Lou, a sturdy, full-bosomed, yet graceful young woman determined to
better herself. When I talked to her at age 92 in the nursing home, she said that Martha Virginia Duke had
not wanted to marry William Richmond Moss because he could neither read nor write and she was ashamed of him. She did not want to marry anyone but wanted to get an education at the Female Academy in
Oxford, but she couldn’t, even though she was smart and could recite Shakespeare and the Bible and
Pilgrim’s Progress and even went to meetings of the Dickens Society later. So she encouraged Aunt Lou,
the smartest and quickest of the children to get an education.
Aunt Lou had to browbeat the big hulking country boys. My daddy was just a boy of ten and had to drive
her to Acker everyday. “By Ned,” he told me, “She’d put their heads between her knees and whoop the
fool out of them, but they’d settle down, and try to read one word at a time with a big, rough finger moving
under each word as they’d sound out the letters. But since I was her little brother, she figured she’d have to
make a dadburn example out of me, so she whooped me more than any of the others. But she said she’d
learn ‘em all to read and write or kill ‘em one. And By Ned, she taught ‘em all, too. Judge Ashley says if it
hadn’t been for Mary Lou Moss he would still be nothin’ but an ignorant fool who couldn’t even read or
write his own name. There’s a lot of men in this county that’ll tell you the same thing. Some of the biggest
men in Amory or Aberdeen.”
her to Acker everyday. “By Ned,” he told me, “She’d put their heads between her knees and whoop the
fool out of them, but they’d settle down, and try to read one word at a time with a big, rough finger moving
under each word as they’d sound out the letters. But since I was her little brother, she figured she’d have to
make a dadburn example out of me, so she whooped me more than any of the others. But she said she’d
learn ‘em all to read and write or kill ‘em one. And By Ned, she taught ‘em all, too. Judge Ashley says if it
hadn’t been for Mary Lou Moss he would still be nothin’ but an ignorant fool who couldn’t even read or
write his own name. There’s a lot of men in this county that’ll tell you the same thing. Some of the biggest
men in Amory or Aberdeen.”
They paid Aunt Lou $35 dollars a month, and she saved it up to pay her fees in the summer term. First
at Blue Mountain College, and next at Mississippi Southern.
at Blue Mountain College, and next at Mississippi Southern.
But that June morning in 1918 Aunt Lou was too excited to worry about the country boys who had
caused her to come home and throw herself into Grandma’s arms and cry in the winter. She had a new blue
dress with a delicate pink-rose print and a roll-brimmed hat faceted in pink, and she thought now and again
about Mr. Eugene Mattox in his uniform. He had stared at her and talked seriously to her about his plans as
if she were an intelligent person. Now and again she would remember Aunt Alice’s remark that she would
never see him again and feel a cringe of sadness. But when she arrived in Hattiesburg, he met other young
ladies who lived just as she did. They all studied hard during the week, but took long walks after supper
everyday and dreamed and planned and hoped for a better life. All the girls had known only a hard life in
rural Mississippi up until then.
caused her to come home and throw herself into Grandma’s arms and cry in the winter. She had a new blue
dress with a delicate pink-rose print and a roll-brimmed hat faceted in pink, and she thought now and again
about Mr. Eugene Mattox in his uniform. He had stared at her and talked seriously to her about his plans as
if she were an intelligent person. Now and again she would remember Aunt Alice’s remark that she would
never see him again and feel a cringe of sadness. But when she arrived in Hattiesburg, he met other young
ladies who lived just as she did. They all studied hard during the week, but took long walks after supper
everyday and dreamed and planned and hoped for a better life. All the girls had known only a hard life in
rural Mississippi up until then.
One Sunday after Chapel Aunt Lou had a date with a young man named Peyton Fergus
(even though she was engaged to Connie Riggins). Six girls were joining Mary Lou and Peyton for a
“Kodaking” party. As she came out of the dormitory she saw a tall young man in uniform lounging against
the oak shade tree. At once Mary Lou recognized Mr. Melvin “Eugene” Mattox. Peyton Fergus was waiting
for her and the girls, but she went over to ask Eugene if he would like to join them for a picnic and the
kodaking party. Eugene said he’d like that very much. Later, when I was a little girl, sitting under the same walnut tree by
the garden, Aunt Lou said young Mr. Mattox made sure he stood next to her and had his picture taken
with her. Aunt Lou said, “He took that picture home to Fulton and showed it to his father and said “That’s
the girl I’m going to marry,” even though we were both engaged to other people.
(even though she was engaged to Connie Riggins). Six girls were joining Mary Lou and Peyton for a
“Kodaking” party. As she came out of the dormitory she saw a tall young man in uniform lounging against
the oak shade tree. At once Mary Lou recognized Mr. Melvin “Eugene” Mattox. Peyton Fergus was waiting
for her and the girls, but she went over to ask Eugene if he would like to join them for a picnic and the
kodaking party. Eugene said he’d like that very much. Later, when I was a little girl, sitting under the same walnut tree by
the garden, Aunt Lou said young Mr. Mattox made sure he stood next to her and had his picture taken
with her. Aunt Lou said, “He took that picture home to Fulton and showed it to his father and said “That’s
the girl I’m going to marry,” even though we were both engaged to other people.
That fall Eugene took a teaching job in math, and Aunt Lou got a better job teaching at Boggan
Schoolhouse. Her salary jumped to $60 a month. “I thought I was rich,” Aunt Lou told me, “but I was
saving and still had only two dresses to my name.” Six months later Mary Lou Moss and Melvin
Eugene Mttox were married in the Greenbrier Methodist Church. They finished teaching the school year
and then went to George Peabody in Nashville to get their master’s degrees.
Schoolhouse. Her salary jumped to $60 a month. “I thought I was rich,” Aunt Lou told me, “but I was
saving and still had only two dresses to my name.” Six months later Mary Lou Moss and Melvin
Eugene Mttox were married in the Greenbrier Methodist Church. They finished teaching the school year
and then went to George Peabody in Nashville to get their master’s degrees.
End of Entry
Typed by Heather Pierce Smith on October 11, 2019, 18 months after the death of my wonderful mother
No comments:
Post a Comment