MINNIE MA

By Joyce Livingston

Minnie Ruth Kelly/Lewis/Marshburn/Leggett (my grandma) was born on October 18, 1915 in Bladenboro, North Carolina, and in my humble opinion, she was the greatest woman that the Good Lord ever saw fit to grace this fine Earth. Being the oldest of her twenty-one grandchildren, I feel blessed to be able to be the one to tell the world about this wonderful, Christian woman.

Minnie Ruth Kelly only had a fourth grade education. Like so many others during that era before the Great Depression, she had to drop out of school to help raise her flock of younger brothers and sisters, pick the cotton fields, and crop tobacco. Her parents were just as strict with her as the parent of four girls and two sons that she eventually became.

Minnie Ruth's first husband was my grandfather, a half-Cherokee Indian by the name of Donald (Donnie) Alton Lewis. Minnie Ruth's heritage included the Fighting Irish, so you can just imagine the tempers that flared on more than one occasion between these two. She would get mad at him every time he cussed or drank, and he would cuss and drink every time she got mad at him. I do believe they must have been the original creators of the infamous Catch 22.

My mother, Rena Mae, was Minnie and Donnie's firstborn. I was born in 1953 and by the time I learned to talk, I had labeled my grandparents with the names that would stick with them for the duration of their lives. They became known to one and all, throughout the state of North Carolina, as Minnie Ma and Daddy Donnie.

Daddy Donnie was wounded in World War I and ended up selling newspapers to help make a living. He was run over by a drunk driver on Halloween, October 31, 1960; I had just turned seven years old. It was shortly after his death that Minnie Ma taught me a song, the words of which have stayed firmly planted in my brain all these years. She never told me the name of the song, but I always assumed it must have been, "Which Way is Heaven." The words to that song were:

A little girl was waiting for her Daddy one day,

It was time to meet him when she heard her Mama say,

Come to Mama darling, and please do not cry,

Your Daddy's gone to Heaven, a way up in the sky.

How far is Heaven?

When can I go?

To see my Daddy,

He's there I know.

Which way is Heaven?

Let's go tonight,

I want my Daddy

To hold me tight

To this day, I always think of my Daddy Donnie whenever I remember that song.

Minnie Ma was a working woman. That woman never slowed down for one minute of the day; she was always, constantly on the move-with a dishrag in one hand and a switch in the other. She managed to keep all of us under control and we never doubted her ability to do just that.

She didn't wait long to remarry. She met Allan Marshburn while cropping tobacco in Clarkton, North Carolina. Allan became my second grandpa, but he never replaced Daddy Donnie in my heart. He was a good man, but he, too, liked to drink and carouse. I remember visiting their farm and having to use the outhouse because they hadn't gotten indoor plumbing yet.

I actually slipped and fell into one of those deep, dark holes inside that out house when a mooing cow outside the door scared me. By the time the rest of the family missed me, I was drenched with an unsavory aroma that prevented me from being allowed inside the house. Minnie Ma had my Uncle Rock strip me and hose me down outside before she allowed me back inside her spotless abode.

My family and I had moved on to Georgia by the time Allan died of a heart attack. Chalk up number two for Minnie Ma. I don't think the ground had a chance to get good and cold before she up and married husband number three, Mr. Leggett. If Mr. Leggett ever had a first name, none of us ever knew it. We always called him Mr. Leggett. Now that I think about it, so did Minnie Ma. She called her first two husbands by their first names, but always referred to the third one as Mr. Leggett. I asked her once, after I was grown, if she had sex with all those men. After she threatened to get the switch after me, she offered a mischievous grin and said, "What do you think, shoog?" She called everyone "shoog"; I think it must've been short for "sugar."

Minnie Ma became a day care worker in her church after she married Mr. Leggett. From that point on, there were hundreds upon hundreds of children who came to know her as Minnie Ma, the best cook of down-home cooking in the United States. Her buttermilk biscuits, fried chicken, and countless cakes earned her a reputation that has carried over even after her death on June 6, 1994.

I've got to master her technique of getting those buttermilk biscuits just right. Too much or too little lard, or too much or too little kneading will either make or break a reputation as a damn fine cook!

I sure do miss Minnie Ma. I only wish the rest of the country could have gotten to know and love her like those of us who were fortunate enough to have been part of her life.

Joyce Livingston is a freelance writer for hire from Florida

Legacies