Tuesday August 9 2016  A PICTURE INTO THE PAST: MARY HATTIE BELL

There is sort of a ring (no pun intended) to the name MARY HATTIE BELL.  I wish I knew its full origin.  There is usually a story of some kind when we tag our children with their names.  I suppose “Mary” may have been named after her grandmother, Mary Edith.  I do not know the derivative of Hattie, nor the Bell.  I do know that Bell was and still is a popular name in the south. 

“Hattie”, the name I knew her as, was four months shy of her second birthday when Helen died so I doubt if Hattie had any memory of Helen.  So many questions I wish I could go back and ask my departed aunts and uncles.  I know many stories of their growing up years have long been left unsung.  I believe that life must have been so difficult living with their father that many buried the pain with their tucked away memories.  Only a few of my 8 aunts ever discussed their childhood with me.  For some it was just too difficult to bring up.

The first recollection I have of Aunt Hattie was when she was already “very old”, she must have been at least 34 years old, and that was ancient to me.  The timeline of my early years is blurry to me but I do remember when my cousins lived across the street from us.  During this time we lived in an old drafty house that seemed menacingly large to me.  Aunt Hattie and Uncle Floyd and all their children lived across the street in the projects.  These projects were in Richmond, California instead of in Rodeo, California.  After World War II the military workers moved back to home towns and the plethora of government housing became available as low-cost housing.  During these years my Uncle Harce and Aunt Estell came to California with their two children in tow following the end of the war.  My sister informed me that Harce and Estell lived in the San Joquine valley for a period and then moved up north to Richmond, California which is in the San Francisco Bay Area. I think they too, lived in one of the apartments by the time we migrated there and had one more daughter by that time.  A couple of years later they had another daughter.

The apartments, if I remember them correctly, were quite cramped and small, even to a child.  The apartments provided a roof overhead and that was what counted!  Estell and Harce had 2 children when they migrated from Arkansas, we had 5 kids at that time and from what I’ve been told, we all lived together in one of those small apartments.  Later, our family settled in an old house on Steege Street.  I wouldn’t be surprised if Hattie, Floyd and their five children also lived with Harce and Estell at one time or another.  Harce and Estell’s open door generosity was usually the first stomping ground of all the family members who migrated from Arkansas to California looking for a better life.   It was the GRAPES OF WRATH in motion; my family being one that came, uneducated, barefoot, and with a passel of young’uns hanging onto their mama’s apron strings, hoping for a better life.   I was totally oblivious to the hardships endured.  And it was me, the baby at that time that probably made it even more difficult to live in such cramped quarters.

I don’t know who migrated first, our family or Hattie’s family.  Eventually they lived across the street from us and I had a best friend in my cousin Paul Michael.  We were both preschool age and spent many hours together under the back porch digging to China.  My earliest memory of Hattie’s clan has more to do with the kids than with knowing who Hattie was in relationship to me.  She was just “another” aunt and I was discovering that I had a lot of aunts.  Paul Michael’s brother Steven was born about that time and I am sure Hattie had her hands full.

Over the years I became better and better acquainted with Aunt Hattie and always perceived her as being quite bossy, having control of what was going on around her, and always, always, working so hard.  She worked as hard as any man I ever saw.  And the other thing I remember about her was regardless of how little she had, she was always willing to share it with others.  She had a brusque demeanor to us little kids, but we knew she loved us.  I pretty much stayed away from Uncle Floyd however, because I knew he gave his kids some good lick’ins.  Hattie had a few high spirited kids in her mix and of course I was always aghast at the things I overheard while playing under the quilt frame as our mama’s quilted.  You bet your bottom dollar that if you are talking and your little ones are present (especially when you are NOT talking to them) they have antenna ears.  We even had supersonic hearing back then and we knew how to be real quiet all at once so we could hear their hushed tones through the thickness of the quilt above our heads as we sat on the floor amongst several pairs of legs hanging beneath their long dresses. 

Though I seemed to get along with all my aunts, I sometimes didn’t see eye to eye with my cousins.  And it was always fun to hear the juicy gossip.  Aunt Hattie was always kind and I knew she loved me in her own matter of fact, bossy way.  And boy, did she know how to get things done!

As I became an adult and had opportunities to be around Aunt Hattie she became one of my favorite aunts.  I think every aunt became a favorite aunt as I grew up.  Our relationships changed and I loved any and all history they could give me about our family.  My interest in the genealogy of our family grew as I matured and some Aunts were very helpful by telling me stories of the past and others were closed mouthed about their childhood.  I am still gleaning information from them even after all these years.

I saw in Hattie a spark of life that I believe had never been allowed to surface until it finally spilled over as she aged.  I saw an excitement and exuberance come alive in her.  She seemed to have the spunk of a young woman and she shared her joy in so many ways with others.  I still have a beautiful set of Monkey Sock Dolls that she made for me many years ago.  She was an avid gardener, cook, canner, and talker.  I think she could out-talk me!  I loved her spirit.

She also weathered many hardships.  Her son, my favorite boy cousin who helped me dig to China under the back porch, eventually became a Vietnam War Veteran.  He had a great loss of love in his life and took his own life right after Mother’s day one year.  I know that was extremely difficult for Hattie.  It was a sad time for our entire family.  We all loved Paul Michael so much.  Paul had a gentle soul and a sweet demeanor.

So, as you can see, life wasn’t easy for Mary Hattie Bell, third daughter born to William Ellis.  I will now share the short biography I wrote for her for that I shared at the 2011 Family Reunion.  I asked her children to tell me what Hattie should be best remembered for.  Her FIRST PLACE AWARD CERTIFICATE SAYS:  “for BIGGEST HEART!  We also remember her for her strength and determination.  She never looked at the bad side of life.  She fought a good fight!”  And I agree with every word!  Aunt Hattie was truly one of a kind!

BIOGRAPHY BELOW WRITTEN IN 2011 (With one correction as to the cause of her death)

MARY HATTIE BELL  1922-1988

Children:

Joyce

Linda

Jimmy

Mary

Paul

Steven

“Hattie was a strong character in her roll of life.  She too weathered some storms and worked hard to help her family through some lean times.  She was devoted to her family.   She was a woman of strength and determination.  She fought a good fight!  She was always able to put food on the table and she could make a feast with very little makings.  She was strong and enduring and never looked at the bad side of life.

Hattie was loving and caring to siblings and generous with the fruits of her labor that came from her garden.  She would send her kids to a neighbor’s house with a cardboard box full of garden produce and have them knock on the door and then run away so the family would not know where the food had come from.  She did not want to hurt their dignity.  She could always find someone that had less than her family and made certain they had food to eat if she was able to provide it.

At times she worked outside the home.  She was employed by Mount Diablo Hospital.

Hattie had the creativity that runs in this family.  She gardened, sewed everything her family needed, cooked, and she created ribbon roses.  She was an avid quilter and received great satisfaction when she completed her creation.  Best of all, her son stated, “she could stretch a dollar farther than anybody until you could hear it snap”.  She will lovingly be remembered for her Monkey stocking dolls.  

Hattie went home to be with the Lord in 1988 after a long illness *due to an inherited genetic blood disorder.  We still miss you Aunt Hattie after all these years of being without you.  You were always so full of life and vitality!”   

*Originally the text stated that the blood disease was caused by a blood transfusion.  I was informed on Sunday by her daughter Joyce that it was actually caused from an inherited genetic blood disorder.

 

SHE FOUGHT A GOOD FIGHT

Mary “Hattie” Bell

Kathleen Martens

April 2, 2011

 

An Amazing woman, strong and bold.

She battled some hardships, so I’m told.

So full of life, and energy galore.

She worked like a man, and talked even more.

 

Excitement in her eyes telling her story,

I imagine that God is now listening in glory.

Always so busy with children and home,

Or out in her garden working in loam.

 

Her garden gave life; food for so many.

She was so giving yet frugal with a penny.

Her kids never hungry, she worked hard to provide,

And with generosity she’d always divide.

 

She quilted and sewed and made monkey faces.

And two of those critters, my home still graces.

She had such zest just for living,

And suffered decline when bad diagnosis was given.

 

And through her illness she cherished each hour,

A hard journey to heaven but God gave her power.

We miss you Aunt Hattie; your personality with zest!

No matter what you did, You gave it your best!

 

Today’s poem:

 

LONG AGO MEMORIES

By Kathleen Martens

August 9, 2016

 

What glimpses of time

In memory confined?

Memories of past

Seem better to last.

 

Yesterday is gone

As if scattered on lawn

Thoughts come and go

But where, I don’t know.

 

Reminiscing brings pleasure

In unending measure.

And my joy is to share

So others can care.

 

Long ago days

In languid thought,

No need to hurry

Worry or scurry.

 

Little smiles tucked here and there

And so easy they are to share.

When I bring them to mind

They are easy to find.

 

Like little jewels

Of handy tools,

When they are needed

My bidding is heeded.

 

And so I cherish

Before I perish

To give without cost

Before memories are lost.

 

Lord, thank You that I can still recall some memories of the past.

Lord, thank You for the amazing brain which you created.

Thank You God for Your concern for each person in our vast family.

Thank You for all the people You put in my life to make it so rich.

Thank You for each aunt, each uncle, each cousin, and all the in-laws.

Thank You for this very moment in which I live.

Thank You for plumbers.

 

GOOD NIGHT AND GOD BLESS YOU.