A Tribute to Willie Mae
Miles of Memories
She never wore a lacy cap. She never wore a ruffled white apron over a black uniform. Because, you see, she wasn’t a real maid. Instead, she wore dresses she’d sewn herself from feed sacks and navy felt house shoes when her corns “got to botherin’.” She was a heavyset woman with a large lap and bosom to cradle my head and she smelled of Faultless Starch which I thought was the best smell in the world. Her name was Willie Mae. She was my best friend and I loved her.
MamahadwarnedherIwas “active” before she came to us. Mama had hired others to stay with me while she worked in Daddy’s store but none worked out until Willie came. Today, I would be labeled ADHD and heavily dosed with Ritalin. I hated naps. I had an active imagination. I was always on the move.
Yet Willie quickly learned how to handle me; she learned I loved radio shows.At my insistence, she’d stop whatever she was doing to march around the breakfast room table with me every 15 minutes during Don McNeill’s “Breakfast Club” program. While she put dinner on to cook we listened toArthur Godfrey and laughed at all his silly jokes. Sometimes she gave me a rag soaked in O’Cedar oil to help her dust furniture. I complained when I caught her coming behind me with her own rag. “Oh, I noticed just a little speck you missed, Baby.”
On my first day of school mypuffedsleeveswerestarched and ironed to perfection. Miss Julia, my first grade teacher, asked how many of the class could count. All hands went up. In order to verify this, she asked each of us to stand and give his name and the number of members in his family. I was called on first. I thought this was pretty silly because everybody in town knew everybody else. I humored her though.
“My name is Brenda Joyce Starks and there are seven people in my family.” About to sit back down, Miss Julia corrected me.
“No, Brenda, there are six members in your family: you, your parents and your three brothers.” I corrected her, “No Ma’am – seven – you forgot Willie.”
I’d practiced for first grade long before I started. Willie fixed me a desk on the yellow kitchen stool. I stuck my small legs through the top rung and sitting on its step, I used the stool seat for my desk top. There, I colored and cut out paper dolls – what Willie and I called “getting my lessons.”
After dinner I kept a close eye on the kitchen clock because my favorite radio show was about to come on. Now, Willie and I had made a deal early on – it was her method of getting me to take a nap. She had rescued an old lace curtain and pinned it on my head just before 1 p.m. and the first organ chords sounded, announcing the “Bride and Groom” show. I’d rush to the living room wearing my veil and holding a faded plastic flower to march down our hall to the strains of “The Wedding March.” I got married five days a week. Willie and I would gasp at ‘my’ big prize when it was announced at the end of the show.
“You like that Maytag wringer washer, Willie? If you do I’ll give it to you when they mail it to me.”
She’d thank me while removing my veil and leading me back up the hall to my bedroom.
“Baby, you gonna’ have to lay down for awhile now so I can finish up the kitchen.” Drifting off to sleep, I could hear her beautiful voice in the distance singing her favorite song, “When the Roll is Called UpYonder, I’ll Be There.”
Some of Willie’s expressions remain stored in my mind today. If I told her something she figured to be untrue, she’d reply,” I very doubt it.” If I needed assurance, she’d always end her comforting answer with, “Ain’no doubt about it!”
When my first tooth became loose, she was the only one allowed to pull it. She bragged on her ‘good girl’. I told her I hoped my new one came in gold like the one at the corner of her beautiful smile. She said I’d have to pay the tooth fairy extra for that.
I was “Baby” when I was good and “Chile” when I was bad. Only once do I remember her being really angry with me. Upset with my new puppy, I shook my finger in its face and declared, “You chew on that again and I’ll knock the CRUD outa’ you!” (a term I heard at school) Before I knew it, Willie grabbed me by the arm, my feet dangling above the floor, and threatened, “CHILE if I EVER hear you use that bad word again, you gonna’ know exactly what Lux Flakes taste like!” That was the end of my cussing career.
Willie taught me Bible verses. I memorized the 23rd Psalm before I entered second grade. Willie loved the Lord.
When I grew older, she taught me to crimp a perfect pie crust…how to soak pinto beans overnight with a ham hock… to put a drop of chocolate into a small glass of water to tell when fudge was ready. Willie was a teacher.
One Autumn afternoon in 1957, I came home from school to find Willie ironing in the back hall.
“Willie, we were talking in Civics class today about everything that’s going on up at Central High School in Little Rock. I know you’ve heard about it – what do you think about this integration thing?”
She sprinkled a skirt, placed it on the board and smoothed it. She ironed from the hem up to the waist before she spoke… ”Well, Baby,” she began, “People’s just people. You got bad people and you got good people. Don’ make no difference what color they are. When bad people mixes with other bad people nothin’ good’s gonna’ come out of it. But when good people mixes with other good people, everthing gonna’ work out jus’ fine.” She made two more swipes with her iron, stood it on its end, and hugged me to that wonderful, comforting bosom and whispered into my hair, “Guess we know which side we on – right, Baby?” Willie was a philosopher.
I was married and living in Houston when Mama called me. Our Willie had died. I had to miss the next day of teaching because I could not stop crying. Even today as I sit typing these words, I still remember the comfort of my head against her bosom, the smell of Faultless Starch, and her rich voice singing, “When the Roll is Called UpYonder I’ll Be There”.
AIN’T NO DOUBT ABOUT IT!
This column, written in 2009, appears in Brenda’s first book, “Summer Night/Dixie Dog Delights” for sale at the Record office.
Brenda Miles has a new e-mail address: brenstar61@gmail.com