Overheard, out and about, Mrs. Grundy sees all, tells all

By Mrs. C.R. Grundy (Contact) | Andalusia Star-News

Published Friday, October 16, 2009

Peeping through my Venetian blind, I noted the French mulberry a-berry and the angel trumpet, hanging in beauty like candles in the night.

Our town square looks unusually lovely this time of year, especially with the addition of the large, old wagon, used to house pots of fall-colored "mums."

Bob and Lisa Davis and their children, Libby and Hugh, visited Andalusia briefly last weekend as they motored to the beach for the Columbus Day weekend. Bob is editor of The Anniston Star, where Lisa is the features editor.

I received the following from "Pete" Donaldson, Andalusia High School Class of l96l: "It was appropriate that you mentioned Ellen Barrow and the A.H.S. Annex in the same column. I was part of the inaugural seventh-grade class in the new annex (September l955), and Miss Barrow was my first English teacher (her classroom was in the southwest corner of the Annex). I still have vivid memories of Miss Barrow, standing in front of my seventh-grade class, giving 'dictation' or reading poetry while gently stroking her upper lip with its hint of a mustache. In those days the English and foreign language faculty was extremely strong. In addition to Ellen Barrow, I had both Simmons sisters (Clyde and Annalee), Anne Chapman, Louise (Pelham) (O'Neal) Taylor, and Margaret Croft. I cannot pick a favorite, but Ellen Barrow was the first; so she is very special, even after more than 50 years."

The statue of Helen Keller, as a girl at the pump, discovering the meaning of language, has been dedicated in the Capitol at Washington, D.C. It is one of two statues, honoring Alabamians. Each state is allowed in the Capitol memorials to two of its own outstanding citizens. The statue of the former Alabama honoree, J.L.M. Curry, a popular and honored educator of his times, has been given to Samford University, once known as Howard College, of which Mr. Curry was once president. (Mr. Curry is buried near President Jefferson Davis in Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond, Virginia.)

Seen at Perry's for the seafood buffet were James Thomas "J.T." and Eula Davis, Natasha Mallory and her mother Voncile Mallory, Robert Lee Holley, Hubert and Rebecca "Butterfly" (Sullivan) Sullivan, Kathryn Danley (originally from Scotland), and Dr. Jim and Marion Powell.

Mr. Davis worked with helicopters 39 years. He and Mrs. Davis live in Hacoda, named after the first letters of three families: Hart, Coleman, and Davis.

Miss Mallory was named Natasha after the character of that name in Tolstoy's War and Peace.

Mrs. Sullivan's brother, Jim Sullivan, former chairman of the Alabama Public Service Commission, is celebrating his first wedding anniversary. (He lost his first wife Susan in a tragic automobile accident.)

The Powells run the adult literacy program in Opp.

Seen at C.J.'s Grille in Andalusia last Saturday night were Billy Jones and his sons, Will and Joshua. The boys were treating Billy's mother, Martha Jean Jones, to a belated birthday supper.

Last Sunday at First Baptist Dr. Fred Karthaus, pastor, baptized young Seth Dooley. Jeanice (Paul) Kirkland, organist, and Jason Tucker, pianist, played a moving offertory, "God's Eternal Love." The Adult Choir, directed by Dwight Crigger, sang a stirring anthem, "Thou, Oh, Lord." The remarkable ladies' ensemble, One Accord, sang a medley about joy. Arrangements of flowers, in a modern cut, were given by Mancil Ezell in honor of his sister, Sybil Smith, and in memory of her late husband, the much loved Charlie Smith, who was always wishing one a "Merry Christmas," even out of season.

The Andalusia Association of Educators, the local arm of the Alabama Education Association here in the "Dimple of Dixie," has finalized its slate of officers for this year: Perry Dillard, president; Cathy Powell, vice-president; Linda Kyle, secretary; and Karen Pass, treasurer.

Yesterday was homecoming at A.H.S., known far and wide for its homecoming assembly and related activities.

Seen at Off the Square Cafe last Sunday were Mike Jones, his wife Kathy, their girls, Sophia and Olivia, and Mike's mother, Martha Jean Jones, being treated to a belated birthday lunch. It seems Mike's brother Billy was treating their mother to a belated birthday in the paragraphs above. I'm "keeping up with the Joneses."

Also at the cafe were Dan and Rita McMullen, Fred and Dot Simpler, Rick and Linda Kyle, Bill and Doris Hicks, the Crittendens, Esker and Ann Thomasson, Frankie and Lisa McVay with their son Cory and granddaughter Rene, Justin Monk, Ashton Garner, Trudie Steele (the artist), Daniel and Leigh Roberts, Joe and Anastasia Hogue and their little son Michael, and pert and pretty Lexie Grantham (eight years old).

Mr. McVay preaches at Lindsey Bridge Baptist Church. Mr. Roberts preaches at Central Church of Christ; and in his free time he likes to hunt.

I ran into Douglas and Frances Castleberry at Andalusia Manor Sunday afternoon. I was out to see Myrtle Ruth (Everage) Welch, and also saw Lucille McGraw, Tachie Perry, and Virginia Hale.

Mrs. Welch, as far as I know, is the oldest living graduate of our high school. She finished in the Class of l929 and is 98 years of age. I asked in a past column for help in finding anyone older in the A.H.S. classes of l926, l927, and l928; but I have received no information so far.

Anniversaries celebrated this week were those of Columbus Day ("In l492 Columbus sailed the blue!"); Virgil, the Roman poet and author of the Aeneid (considered the greatest writer in history until Shakespeare came along); Helen Hunt Jackson, the poet who wrote "October's Bright Blue Weather"; and Noah Webster, the lexicographer whose name is still synonymous with the dictionary.

October l5, the birth date of Virgil, was national Poetry Day - and is, annually.

Coming up this week are the birthdays of Christopher Wren, English architect; Samuel Taylor Coleridge, the English poet who wrote The Rime of the Ancient Mariner ("Water, water, everywhere"); and Franz Liszt, Hungarian pianist and composer.

The ship known as the U.S.S. Constitution or "Old Ironsides" was launched in l797 on October 2l and still floats on the Charles River in Boston. Oliver Wendell Holmes "saved its neck" with a sentimental poem called "Old Ironsides."

I have asked Mr. Wingard, a retired English teacher at A.H.S., to keep me informed on the last days of the Annex at the high school. The Annex, also called "the Little Building," was built to house seventh and eighth graders, a kind of junior-high school in the days of the population explosion after World War II and before integration. When Mr. Wingard retired in 2005, he had taught at the high school longer than anyone else in its history.

"Mrs. Grundy, I went by September 29 and stood for the last time in my old Room 35. Much of the Annex had already been gutted. The tile flooring had been ripped up. In my room an old, plaster-of-Paris, red apple still hung on a wall. Old sets of books lined the shelves, especially the set I had used in teaching English literature in senior English. A row of pictures of British authors looked down from a strip of bulletin board above my black board (actually, green). An old, hollowed gourd I had painted green hung in a corner, filled with leftover bits of chalk I had saved over the years. Two hanging baskets for flowers flanked the 'black board.' The back bulletin board, which had stretched the width of the room, was gone. Mr. Zeanah, who hired me, our local superintendent of education for 20 years, had come by my room my first week and had asked if I needed anything. I had requested of him a bulletin board. The next day that large board was put in place. I had not expected one so big and was grateful to have all that display space. (His question and another by an assistant principal, John Painter, were the only two times in my entire career that I was asked by an administrator if I needed anything.) A few stacks of old papers lay about. The windows were all open. The day was dying. I took a chip of chalk out of the old gourd and wrote on the board, 'Fare thee well, Room 35.'

"October 7 I went back. My room had been gutted; the outer walls of the building had been breached. The Annex was built around l955. It lasted some 55 years, coming down in September and October of 2009.

"October 9 I returned to find a pile of rubble except for the tall, brick chimney and boys' restroom. I was heartsick and teary-eyed to find my old room gone. I had not thought that it would bother me so much, but it did. I spent most of my life in that room, some 39 years, more time in that building than anyone else, I suppose. I used to enjoy just sitting in my room in the quiet of an afternoon when everyone else had gone home. I would sit and remember the past. Everyone who was there when I started teaching in the fall of l966 left me, eventually, alone. I didn't mind. I like being 'the last leaf on the tree,' seeing what becomes of everyone. When I heard the building was coming down, I accepted it. The building was plain and in bad shape. It was like thousands of others built after World War II to house the population explosion following the war when the dads came home, flat, rectangular, brick-and-glass 'boxes.' It was a utilitarian building with hardly any aesthetic features. The Annex, when I began there, housed not only classrooms but also the superintendent's office (the next year the superintendent moved into his current office, once the town's library), secretaries' court, counselor's office, and board room (which later became the Heritage Room).

"Sunday afternoon, October 11, I went back again. A former student, Justin Gantt, saw me, standing under the old water oak next to my room, now a pile of rubble. He came and stood beside me. I think he read my mind, bless his heart. We found a few copies of the old, red, English-literature books, half buried. I realized that the wall to the boys' restroom, still standing, was the wall to one end of my room, the concrete-block wall, painted white. The outline of the old black board was visible. At one side were two light switches; and, above them, a stick-on piece of tape with the words I had put there years ago, 'Time passes. Will you?' I smiled sadly. Beyond the switches was a section of wall painted a pitiful pink-brown, the original color of my room and every room in the Annex in l966, revealed by the removal of a cloak closet. I think I was the first to paint my room a different color. I remember how June Grimes and her siblings came and helped me paint my room, out of the goodness of their hearts. Their family befriended me in my first days in Andalusia. Her dad, Harold Grimes, was the first person I met in town. He sold me my first purchase, a bottle of Old Spice shaving lotion. The Grimeses have been as good as gold to me all these years. I once rented a room from their matriarch, Mrs. J. K. "Little Mama" Burke. I got to thinking that the Annex didn't stand as long as Old Main, built around l939. There's a lesson there somewhere. Justin and I stood a long time, talking and remembering."

This being Saturday, let me encourage each of us to be in his place of worship this weekend. Fare thee well, gentle reader.