Mama Hattie stood a scant five feet. She never learned to drive. She didn’t go to college. She stuck around the community—a cluster of houses and stores alongside a bend in the road. But she towers in my memory because of the magical summers spent with her in the north Georgia mountains.
Tag: grandmother
Space Enough for God, Mama Hattie, and a Whale (Part One)
It’s the small things that keep a person alive. Take my grandmother, Mama Hattie. She made it to ninety-five. She was born in a wagon-and-mule era and died the day an astronaut stepped from the space shuttle to test heating devices in the toe caps of his boots.
Her obituary said she was somebody’s wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, sister, and aunt. But she was so much more.
Spunk and Spark: Nannie Rewrote the Rules for Love and Marriage
From day one, Nannie was in charge. In 1915, she demanded driving lessons. She played basketball in finishing school and supported herself as a stenographer after a stint in business school. Her rules after marriage: 1) two children only; 2) her own car; 3) an annual bridge party vacation with “the girls” on St. Simons Island (no family, no questions).