Genealogy, Catholicism, & Managing Women...

Mary Alice (Truitt) Blacketer

Drumroll, please...here is my Gran. If you've been reading my past stories then you know who I'm talking about. [If not, after this post read: "My Gran's Southern Hash," if you like...] She was such a sweet little lady [unless you got on her bad side, which I didn't because I was her favorite :)]. I don't have a whole lot of photographs of her, but I managed to find some "Mom" pics with all her kids over the years. One of the pictures [a copy actually] I stumbled upon when I found her passport application [way cool]. In it she's holding her infant daughter my Aunt Happy [a name worthy of another story], and an unidentified other woman, who, if I had to guess, is probably my Gran's sister, my Aunt Anne, but I don't know for sure. My Gran and her mother, my Boo [yes, there's a story behind that name, too] raised Gran's eight children together during World War II. My Gran worked several jobs outside of the home, and my Boo took care of things on the homefront. Like so many other mom's, they worked hard to "make it happen."

From Ireland to a Deck in Texas

My Gran's Gran, Annie O'Brien, who came to America [thru New Orleans, LA] from Dublin, Ireland was Catholic. [Shocker, right?] I was baptized a Catholic and remained one for only the first 3 years of my life. My dad didn't really like the Catholic Church, and he'd been raised a Methodist. So my mom and dad compromised and we became Episcopalian [can't say we aren't problem-solvers]. "Why didn't my dad like the Catholic Church," you ask? Well, if you read my 6-part series [yes, I said 6] on "Secrets" of my grandfather's then that might shed some light on it...So, what does this have to do with my Gran? One of my most vivid memories of her [other than her Southern hash] was that she was a devout Catholic who prayed religiously [pardon the pun]. She had her Saint Prayer Cards and her Rosary always in her pocket and she'd go outside to be in nature and talk to God...everyday...several times a day...without fail [in the rain, she'd sit on that same deck that my dad built...the one mentioned in "Runaway Bunny"]. And I remember when I was little thinking at the time that she and God sure talked a lot...[She was probably praying for my dad's non-Catholic soul! lol]

Three Managing Women

So here's to [really] 3 mom's my Gran, my Boo, and the outlandish Annie O'Brien [yeah, there's some stories there, too] - 3 hardworking, managing, Catholic women who never stopped and asked, "Why," but just kept working together to keep their homes together and their children healthy and happy...Happy Mother's Day, Gran, Boo, and Annie!

Caroline

My Gran's Southern Hash

The term, "hard times" has been tossed around lately, and I don't think that everyone knows what it means exactly. I'm not talking about politics or the market, though. While those are important for the "why", I'm talking about the "how." How did it affect the everyday family?

Just what did it mean to the everyday family?

I can still remember interviewing my Gran (my grandmother on my mom's side) for my family tree project my senior year in high school. I remember asking her, "how was life 'way back then'?" [My interviewing prowess showing even then! lol] While my technique obviously needed work, I think, in this case, it may have have been the right approach. Her answer was so clear and simple, but powerful. She replied," Dear," [my Gran always started a story with "Dear,..."] "during the war, we would wait in line on 'meat' day with our ration books." [Huh?]

Since we were sitting at the dinner table with full tummies and my mom in the kitchen doing the dishes, her reply caught me offguard. As a friend of mine likes to say, "I just don't have a slot for that." I couldn't compute that statement.

She went on to explain about rationing books and not having enough meat to go around during World War II. They were allowed only so much meat [and other goods] per week per person. Could you imagine - in this day and age in America - standing in line with your neighbors every week with your ration coupon books clutched in your hands in order to receive your ration of food items for the week for your family? [And to think I complain about having to go to the store...]

I also now understand my Gran's recipe for Southern hash. You see, my husband & I disagree on what hash really is. He was born in Iowa, but got to Texas as fast as he could, and I am a Texan, born and raised. [Hey, y'all!] Whenever my Gran would visit, she'd make hash at the end of the week, which consisted of all [and I do mean all] the leftovers in the fridge and homemade biscuits. And everytime I make it for my family, my husband always says that it isn't really hash, but a stew concoction of sorts. He says that real hash is made with corned beef and potatoes and served for breakfast. [Well, my Gran's Gran was 100% Irish, and I know what corned beef is. It's what you eat with cabbage on St. Patty's Day] To be fair, though, I have had corned beef hash, and it makes a wonderful breakfast. O.K., so there's 2 types of hash: Southern and not-Southern [but my Gran's hash is the real one - at least for me...]

While I make Gran's Southern Hash for my family [and "stew" for my husband] out of nostalgia and comfort [and yes, sometimes out of laziness - I really hate going to the store], my Gran made it out of necessity in order to feed the mouths of 8 growing children. My Gran's story about "hard times" during World War II is similar to a lot of other people's stories who went through it.

They scraped.

They saved.

They made "do" with what they had.

They hunkered down. [Texas-speak]

They worked long and hard to put food on the table for their families.

That's their family story.

It's my Gran's family story.

And it's my family story, too...

Caroline