this week i write about my paternal grandfather, papa w. he and my grandmother, mama w, lived in a large brick three-bedroom home they had built on the main highway leading through town. it was on a huge lot. in front of the home were towering hickory trees which produced delicious nuts that we grandchildren loved gathering when they were in season. they also owned a large pasture behind the house. in the middle of the pasture was a barn where boxes and boxes of records from papa w's business dealings were kept for reasons known only to him.
papa w's domain in the house was a suite of rooms that included his bedroom, a den with a wall of windows on one side, and a small study. his den was called "the sunroom" because it was so filled with light. a door made up almost entirely of small window panes led to the yard. the floor was covered in linoleum in a pattern that looked like rectangular reddish-brown stones. in front of the window wall was a small gas heater on which papa w set a small pan of water to humidify the room when the heater was lit during the winter. opposite the window wall, was a long couch where papa w often napped during the day. a large radio housed in a dark wood cabinet stood at one end of the couch. papa w often listened to the bbc on the short wave band of the radio when he was alone in his den.
papa w had severe arthritis. while he was mobile to the end of his life, his legs ached and his activity was largely limited to walking to the opposite end of the house at meal times and driving to church services in a nearby town on sunday mornings. i was always perplexed as to why he and mama w slept in separate bedrooms. their bedrooms adjoined a jack-and-jill bathroom which they shared. the furniture in his bedroom was made of a dark wood that looked oppressive to me. i always found his bedroom to be somewhat frightening. the bed was positioned so that the tall headboard of the bed almost completely covered the only window in the room, so it was always quite dark, in marked contrast to his well lit sunroom.
it was obvious that papa w was a well-respected man in his small town because, when he need a haircut, the barber came to his house rather than him waiting his turn in the barbershop. in like manner, the president of the local bank came to see him in his den when he had business matters to take care of. papa w kept a stock of silver dollars in the chest-of-drawers in his bedroom. when we grandchildren came to visit, he usually gave each of us a silver dollar when it was time to leave.
during the time their children were growing up, papa and mama w led separate lives which may explain why they didn't share a bedroom. he operated a large sawmill in a town about 150 miles away from their home. because road conditions were so poor in those days, he stayed in housing at his mill from late sunday afternoon until the following saturday morning each week. this meant the mama w had all the child-rearing responsibilities, and his children saw little of him. the mill operated through most of the 1920s and even through the depression. as the country prepared for world war two, the demand for wood increased, and the mill prospered as never before. it must have been quite an operation, with worker housing and a company store. during the depression when cash was scarce, workers were paid in company scrip that could only be spent at the company store. at one time, i had a wooden coin manufactured for use in that store, but over the years it has disappeared.
because of this arrangement between papa and mama w, their children were all a little distant from papa w. it was clear that my father and his siblings loved him, but they never seemed comfortable around him. papa and mama w continued their pattern of living separate lives even after papa w sold his mill and other properties and retired. she had her domain on one end of the house, while he had his on the other end, and they met only for meals and church attendance. i think this is one of the reasons mama w and i had such a close relationship. during most of the year, she was alone in her end of the house, and she delighted in having some company during the weeks i stayed with her during the summer.
like many of his generation, papa w was a racist. i never heard him speak ill of members of another race, but he and mama w left the church in the town where they lived to become members of a church in the next town that had as one of its principals the belief that the white race was superior to all others and that those of african descent were ordained to be inferior and the servants of others. i know that mama and papa w both held these beliefs, and it was painful to me to realize as i got older that their religious and political beliefs were so bigoted.
my father seemed to resent attempts by his father to control him. after he and my mother married, papa w wanted to provide a house for them, but my dad refused, choosing instead to buy a home on his own. my dad's older brother and papa w were much closer. it seemed as if my uncle curried favor with papa w, often acting as his driver when papa came home and being his business partner when my uncle was old enough to take part in the family business. my dad kept his distance and worked for the business but never owned a part of it. my uncle tried to get dad to go into business with him when my uncle and his family moved to the northern part of the state to operate a large mill up there, but my dad refused. he wanted to stay in the little town where we had settled and divorce himself completely from reliance on papa w and my uncle.
like my dad, i was never quite sure how to relate to papa w. he was always kind to me but we were never close. like many successful men of his time, he viewed child-rearing as "woman's work" and was uncomfortable around young children. in return, we grandchildren were never comfortable around him. he didn't talk to us directly, beyond asking how we were when he first greeted us each time we visited. all his conversation was directed toward the adults present in the room, while we children either went someplace else to play or set silently as the adults conversed.
i suppose papa w did the best he knew how for his family. he provided well for them and left mama w well off when he died a few years before she did. i'm sorry that i was unable to have a close relationship with him but i always knew he loved me and all the other members of his family.
may we try to understand those who have gone before us, even when their actions are difficult to fathom. may we look for the good in them and forgive the bad. may we remember that all of us wrestle with flaws that we may have difficulty overcoming. shalom.
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