Part V-c: Four Grandchildren of Andrew Russell and Josephine Davis

Memories of Mary Lucille Davis Woodliff (Part III)

In June of 1971 my wife and I decided to take make the long trek west to visit family and friends in Louisiana, Texas, Oklahoma, and Arkansas. Our first stop was to visit my grandfather Luther Davis’s sister who lived with her daughter and son-in-law in New Orleans. Aunt Elva Davis Crawford was the daughter of my great grandfather Andrew Russell and his wife Josephine Ryan Davis. The visit was for a couple of hours. Aunt Elva, as mentioned in a previous post, suffered most of her life from severe arthritis and was confined to the second level of her daughter’s home. Romans 12:12 describes her stance in life—“Rejoice in hope. Be patient in tribulation. Be constant in prayer.”

From New Orleans we drove to Taylor, Texas which is near Austin to visit a high school classmate who was now a priest in the Austin, Texas diocese. Afterwards, we drove what seemed like an immense distance from Austin to Tulsa, Oklahoma to visit another friend from college who was a priest in the Tulsa diocese. All the while, our main destination was Henryetta, Oklahoma where we once again would visit our OK family connection.

We arrived in Henryetta after spending eons of time squished inside a 1969 VW Beetle—no air conditioning. I remember that we arrived at Mary Lucille and Kirk’s home in mid-afternoon with more exhaustion than I was accustomed to. We were glad to be able to nap shortly after we arrived. The nap was not restful, however, either due to the fact that our bodies were not able to unfold due to the cramped conditions of the automobile or the fact that we had inadvertently walked into the preparations for a dinner party for newcomers to the Henryetta area. The living room and dining room had been arranged to accommodate numerous card tables that had been clothed in linen attire and set with fine china, silverware and stemmed crystal.

After our brief nap, we were swept into the rush of last minute preparations. My head was hurting from being fried in the sardine can of a vehicle that had no air conditioning. Plus, I was not prepared to be part of a welcoming party for strangers. I was relieved to know that Duane and Eloise (son and daughter-in-law of Mary Lucille) would be present for the occasion. Uncle Kirk, of course, would be present, also. There would be people I knew, and this was a relief for a shy person like me. As the dinner progressed, it was announced that at the end of each course of the meal, everyone would move to another table and join someone they had not yet met that evening. That meant if you were with your wife, you would part company with your spouse and head to a foreigner’s table. This was a good and clever way to make sure everyone got to meet everyone else. I, however, didn’t want to meet anyone else, but only wanted to stay put so I could just keep a low profile. I also was trying to protect my wife from too much fellowship. This didn’t sit well with the hostess who insisted that we cooperate. I quietly said that we would stay put and that decision was respected for which I was grateful.

When dessert was about to be served, the hostess stands and announces that at that moment, Ron Davis, her nephew, and Glenda, his dear wife, would play the piano for all to enjoy. I felt cornered again as well as exploited. How does one decline gracefully without making a scene amongst so many? I stood and said that my wife and I would be delighted to play the piano but not this evening. We would, however be delighted to play for Mary Lucille in the morning when we would be more rested. Secondly, there were two things that we definitely didn’t do while on vacation—one was to play the piano in public and the second was to talk about George C. Wallace, who was the governor of Alabama at the time. For a musician, playing the piano in public while on vacation was like asking a letter carrier (mailman, in the old days) to take a hike on his day off. We did play for Mary Lucille the next morning, and we had an enjoyable time, on our own terms so to speak.

Mary Lucille was very proud of her family—husband, sons, daughters, her siblings, nephews and nieces. She only wanted others to enjoy the richness that she was so blessed to have. She and I were a lot alike. I call it the “show and tell” syndrome or the “brain is in your mouth” approach to thinking. People like us love to share everything that is going on in our minds. That is how we process life. The problem is that most people get weary of people processing everything out loud as well as wanting to “show and tell” about everything that’s happening in their lives. Basically, Mary Lucille and I were kindergarten children at heart. It drives everyone else stark raving mad. Just look at this blog. We are now into the fifth part of a series on my great-grandparents and, this is part three of just one of their grandchildren. When will it ever end? Well, frankly, not until I tell one or two more episodes about Mary Lucille Davis Woodliff.

(To be continued with the visits in 1997)