Adele

A few years ago, Adele called me to say that she had been diagnosed with breast cancer. Then quickly she reassured me, "Don't worry, Pam. I'm going to beat this. My grandmother did, and I can, too." That was Adele: positive and upbeat. Always.

We met when Adele, her husband, George, and son, Tom, moved into the Gaitherburg Ward in the 1980's. I don't remember that we worked together in any organization that led to our long friendship. I think she just drew people to her with her warmth and kindness. She was easy to know, and easier to love.

Once in a casual conversation about something, she mentioned having chosen a doctor when her family lived in Florida because his last name was Redd, her grandmother's maiden name. Her mentioning that was one of those "little miracles" that often happens when one is interested in genealogy. I told her my maiden name is Redd, and we immediately set about to find the connection -- the connection we have believed from that day exists, although we have not been able to document it.

Adele was married to George Swift for almost 50 years. They have three sons, Herb, Tom and Jon, and seven grandchildren, all of whom have been the loves of her life. She was so proud of all of her family. She was a gifted homemaker, taught Home Economics in several cities, and she loved to cook and sew.

The quality I most admired in Adele, and the one I will always remember, is her ability not to just remember people, but to remember everything about them. She could find connections between people whom she knew in different parts of the country. It was an amazing gift. She truly loved everyone she knew and wanted them all to know and love each other. She was a gatherer.

I have lost a dear friend. She passed away on September 20, but I know she never gave up.

Trouble in the Kitchen

Well, not trouble really. I just got de-railed and sidetracked from my original plans for the day. Since having moderate success with my plum jam the other evening, and because two plum trees still hang heavy with fruit in the far corner of our yard, I decided to make a plum pie today. Yes. You read right: I decided to make a pie. Amazing. I don't even really LIKE pie. But I found a 5-star-out-of-5-star by 16 readers recipe on the internet for a plum pie, whose ingredients I just happen to have all of in my house.

So this morning I put plum pie on my list of Things To Do. Well, misery loves company, so I called my friend Lynne to see if she would like to come over and play in the kitchen with me. Being the good sport that she is, she said yes, and 10 minutes later was knocking on my kitchen door -- back door friends are the best.

I had already picked the plums, was standing at the sink (zink, per Grandma Baker) slicing them, talking with Kathie on the phone, when Lynne arrived. She dived in, making the topping while I finished plum prep. Just a few moments later, we had two pies ready for the oven.

Ah, but I digress. The real topic here is my detour. As Lynne was getting ready to leave -- she had a previous engagement with her daughter, but was kind enough to slip by my kitchen for a few minutes -- we were talking about old recipes or something that triggered my memory of three old books that I have, one of which dates back to Maggie Pamelia Shaw Redd (above picture). I ran down to pull them off the shelf to share them quickly with my friend.

Maggie's book, The Heart of the World, the copyright page missing so I have no idea when or where or by whom it was published, was inscribed inside the front cover in Maggie’s hand, “Presented to Maggie (Shaw) Redd by her pastor, Rev. D.F. (C)ender as a wedding present. June 25th 1885". This two and a half inch thick “how to” book is precariously held together by now-failing black cloth tape down the spine of both covers. If memory serves me, Uncle Dick generously gave it to me during one of my visits to his home in Pennsylvania, possibly with the explanation that since I was named after Maggie (Pamelia), I should have this book. I treasure it. It is the kind of book all modern brides -- and also those of us who have been married a long time -- should read and ponder. From the preface: “(This book’s) aim is to be a brother-book to American homes, to open them to the sunshine of the best life, to make them the seeding ground of all good principles, the nurseries of noble character and harmonious and happy society….It believes in God implicitly, in men a great deal, in character as of infinite value, in the Divine ordainment of Home and Society as its legitimate outgrowth. It goes out with a great faith, a warm heart and a willing hand, to do what it can in everybody’s behalf. In its aim, author and publisher are agreed, and with earnest cooperation join in their home-improving and world-helping endeavor.” What a noble cause!

A similar "how to” book entitled Safe Counsel - Searchlights on Health - The Science of Eugenics published in 1920 by J. L. Nichols & Company of Naperville, Illinois, has been one of my favorites for many years. I don’t remember for sure where it came from, but I think possibly from Aunty Mary’s bookcase on Victoria Place when she was downsizing to their new apartment on Douglas Road. Covering such topics as “Knowledge is Safety,” “Influence of Associates,” “Self Control,” “Rules on Etiquette,” “What Women Love in Men,” (and vice-versa), “Purity of Character,” “History of Marriage,” hints on courtship, advice to newly weds, how to perpetuate the honeymoon, how to care for children, and so much more, this book promises to help women through every possible circumstance that may confront them in courtship and marriage. The first time I opened and read parts of it -- I was probably in my late 20’s at the time -- I laughed and thought about how “outdated” it was. Well, the language is. But the principles, however fraught with flowery language, still hold true. What a treasure this book is!

Lynne and I briefly perused Safe Counsel before she left. Then I continued: the book that became my detour and de-railing for the day is one that had belonged to Grandma Redd, another two and a half inch thick red book held together by tape. These books were not placed on a shelf somewhere to collect dust. My grandmother and great-grandmother used them often as testified by the worn pages and failing covers. This one is entitled, Household Discoveries - An Encyclopaedia of Practical Recipes and Processes by Sidney Morse, and was published by Success Company in 1908. Today, it wasn’t the book itself that held me captive, but the stack of loose papers tucked into the front.

I carefully inspected each fragile yellowing sheet -- some were merely recipes torn from the local newspaper, which in some cases could be identified as the Toledo Blade, but others not. Some were handwritten recipes on paper that I recognized had come from a desk-set-type of pad that had had a place on Grandma’s or Aunty Mary’s telephone stand. Still others were hastily scribbled unidentified recipes on scraps of whatever paper was handy at the moment. The handwriting of most was recognizable as either Grandma’s or Aunty Mary’s. Some other contributors were given credit for their recipes: “Irene” (probably Kotecki); “Edna”, (no doubt Hoover, who had been Grandma’s friend for almost all of her life); “Grandma” (Fassett. This I know because it was a recipe for Chicken Pie, an heirloom recipe from Maryett DeKay Fassett); and one attributed to “David Wojnarowski”, for French Vanilla Custard Pie. It was like walking into the past.

I must have spent an hour browsing. It was time originally meant for other mundane daily tasks. But it was a delightful detour. I love seeing the handwriting of loved ones who have moved on. I am intoxicated by the musty smell of old paper and crumbling newsprint. Grandma must have been looking over my shoulder, remembering the occasions for which she prepared some of these dishes or shrugging off the ones she never got to. I could almost feel her there.

(written Tuesday, September 18, 2007)