
Daddy
Bull, Mr. Billy, Daddy, and Poppa Bear
were all names for my father, William Homer Saunders. The nickname Bull was given
to him when he played football in high school and came from his tendency to put
his head down and push ahead no matter what obstacles were blocking the way. This
sometimes came across as stubbornness, which could be frustrating, but I will say
that his Bull nature mainly served him well throughout life. He was known as
“Mr. Billy” to most people in the community, reflecting a Southern blend of
formality and informality. The title “Mr.” showed respect and recognized his
social position as a farm business owner and community leader, and the nickname
“Billy” was what his family and close friends called him. The name “Daddy” or
“Dad” was used exclusively by his three children (me, my younger sister, and my
brother), although in the final years one of his dear caretakers also called
him “Daddy.” His children sometimes referred
to him as “Poppa Bear,” typically in his absence. It reflected his teddy bear
side, as well as his occasional tendency to growl when in certain moods.
Momma's Shoes
My mother,
God rest her soul, always had a closet full of shoes. From early childhood this
was a source of fascination to me. There was every kind of shoe one can
imagine: athletic shoes including walking shoes, running
shoes, tennis shoes; sandals of all shapes and descriptions including multiple
pairs of flip-flops; casual shoes to wear around the house and dress shoes with
low heels and high heels; and various pairs of bedroom shoes in a variety of
conditions from well-worn (in fact barely recognizable as shoes) to pristine
princess slippers. The variety in colors
was amazing, but I will say Momma kept the styles very basic. No elaborate
sequins, buckles, or glitter. She was a no-frills woman, and I’m proud to say
that I have taken after her in that respect.
Trees
I loved to climb trees when I was growing up. It
turns out that I still do, but my current tree-climbing is greatly limited by
social expectations for people of my age (late 60s) and a body that is
increasingly assertive about protecting its chronologically accumulated
insults. But climbing trees was a great pastime when I was little. I used to spend
hours climbing and viewing the rural scenery from trees on our property. Some
trees were easier to climb than others. Straight, tall pines were very
difficult, but smaller trees with many low branches such as maples and dogwood
were great fun. Live oaks were also good, once you were able to reach the lower
branches.
Hills and Mountains
My first sight of a mountain in North
Carolina around age 11 was a wondrous experience. I couldn’t believe how the
land rose up and was framed by the sky. Our family made many more trips to the Blue
Ridge Mountains of South Carolina, Georgia, and North Carolina during the years
we were growing up. We visited the Great Smoky Mountain National Park; National
Forests including Pisgah, Nantahala, and Chattahoochee-Oconee; and numerous
State Parks in all three states. We enjoyed the scenic vistas and tourist attractions.
These trips have merged in my mind as one, large, happy memory.
Poem by my mother, Ruth J Saunders, written August 6, 2003
Inspired by overhearing her granddaughter, Rebecca, telling her
younger sister, Crystal, “You can’t put a frog in a book bag.”
Letting Go
For
me summer begins when the hummingbirds arrive and ends when they leave. I
remember seeing my first hummingbird feeding at a Mimosa tree blossom in the
backyard when I was a child.
I
marveled then, as I do now, at what wondrous creatures they are, light refracting
in their feathers creating jeweled colors. They are small for birds, but quite
feisty and not afraid of people though that doesn’t mean that they like us
around. I wouldn’t be afraid, either, if I could fly that quickly in any
direction with such maneuverability. They are social birds, nearly always in
the presence of other hummers, but they are also territorial and aggressive, so
they don’t get along with each other particularly well. Hummers, with their
energy, quickness, and fierceness bundled together in such a small and
beautiful package, represent life to
me.
Ice Cream
Saunders Family Recipe for Homemade
Ice Cream Few
memories are more delicious than those of home churned ice cream in the
summertime. Here is the Saunders family recipe as recalled from my childhood.
Fishing
It
doesn’t take much imagination to know the outcome of my first and only fly-fishing
outing in a boat: I hooked Daddy in the back. In the long view, no harm was
done, and it is amusing now. But it was not funny on that hot summer afternoon
with Daddy bellowing in pain. I can also verify it is easier to remove a hook
from a fish than from a person.
Learning from Tadpoles
The nearly flat soybean field surrounding
our childhood home was bounded on its lower side by a drainage canal, fondly known
as the “big ditch.” The clear, still water in the canal created the ideal
habitat for toads at all stages of their life cycle. The transformation from
eggs to tadpoles and then toads was astounding and otherworldly to me. I spent
many hours watching and learning, sometimes the hard way.
Learning on the Job
During
high school summers I began learning about characteristics of my preferred occupation
by experiencing jobs lacking these features. It was like having to find the
puzzle pieces before being able to put them together. At first, I thought being
able to do the required tasks was the only thing that mattered. Through
experience I found other pieces of the puzzle: the physical setting, the social
environment, and liking or finding meaning in the work tasks. I began
assembling these elements in my high school summer employment as a tobacco farm
worker, legal secretary’s assistant, and camp counselor.