The Edwards

Grama Amy and Aunt Betty had a brother named Bill.  I did not know Uncle Bill very well.  I know that their mother was a Nutman.  She was Jewish.  Their father was a Hale.  He was a distant cousin of the famous patriot, Nathan Hale.  Grama said she had his watch at one point.  I assume she had to sell it, because no one ever inherited it.


Before I go into my memories of this side of the family, I have to say I found a book by Grama's cousin, Nancy Hale, at a library, "Save the books from the cruncher" giveaway.  It was time to leave, and as I was on the way out the door, my eyes literally fell on this book in the middle of a whole lot of other books strewn around on the history table.  I picked it up and saw Nancy's picture on the back flap and thought, "Gee, she looks like a perfect cross between young Amy and Betty Hale."


When I showed it to Mom (who still has it,) she confirmed it was a relative.  Nancy's parents were artists, (both portrait) and the mother a fairly good one at that.  Nancy, however, chose to be a writer and publisher.  I enjoy both artwork and writing!  Not surprising, then, to find we are distant cousins.


What I find interesting about the Hale connection is that it was Great Grampa Hale, their father, who died falling down the stairs drunk as a result of breaking his neck.  This caused the children, Bill, Amy and Betty, to become orphans, and the two girls were brought up by a lady named Aunt Enid.  I am not sure about Uncle Bill.  I only remember seeing him one time.  The same way we have genes from Molleneaux on Mom's side of the family, which tie us to Prince Charles (17 times removed) we have to remember that not only good things travel down the family line, but bad genes as well.  Thank God we have Jesus who broke all these curses by becoming a curse for us having hung on the tree.


My first memory of Grama Amy is being at their home on Wisconsin St. in Detroit and following around after her as she went about her morning routine.  She had very thick, dark but graying, manageable short hair which she pushed into waves with her fingers when she hadn't recently been to the beauty shop.  She and Grampa slept in twin beds on their backs and snored so loudly, you could hear it all over the house.  Uncle Tom had a room with bunk beds, and Uncle Bob had the guest room when Dad moved out.  I slept in the guest room in a double bed.


Grama made very good white bread and all kinds of cakes.  She was known for excellent roast beef, which she surely must have learned from her English ancestors.  She often served turnips and sometimes rutabaga along with the delicious and smooth mashed potatoes and creamy Yankee dark gravy.


On nice days she let me play outside on the front porch.  The neighbor lady made my brother a sock monkey one time.  I was so jealous, she asked the lady if she would also make one for me, which she did.  I treasured that sock monkey more than my Madame Alexander doll.  There was a neighbor in back who had kids, and Grama made me go over there to play one time.  I didn't want to go.  I remember the little boy was potty training and wouldn't let anyone flush his poop down the potty.  When I went to use the bathroom, there it was in the potty, and I didn't want to go there.  She told me I was too shy and needed to learn to play with other kids.  (Funny how my daughter, also a middle child, has the total opposite mentality, so outgoing she looks at her friends more as family than family...)


We often went over there on Sundays and stayed until just before bedtime.  The Edwards liked to watch sports, especially basebal, hockeyl and football and enjoyed Dragnet.  They even named their cocker spaniel, Friday.  I used to hide in the closet and jump out at Grampa Edwards  when he opened the door to hang up his coat and hat.  He never left the house without a hat.  He then gave me a big, juicy kiss on the cheek which I proceeded to wipe off.  He said, "Don't wipe it off!"  I immediately said, "I'm not!  I'm rubbing it in!"  And he picked me up and hugged me.


On Sundays Grampa and Grama bundled me up in a blanket and drove me to Sunday School at the Christian Science church.  They did not have a heater in their car.  I remember learning the ten commandments and Onward Christian Soldiers there.  I did not know it was a cult that perverted the words of the Bible to Mary Baker Eddy's ends.


Grama Amy was warm and affectionate and had lovely friends and manners.  It is unfortunate she left the Episcopal church and went into the arms of Mary Baker Eddy and her insanity. Desperate people can often be very open to deception.  This had devastating effects on Dad and his brothers.  When Dad came down with asthma at around five years old, she took him to a practitioner and traded up in the devil's market.  She traded his asthma for a spirit of death.  The enemy has killed my dad's little boy faith and tried to take his life many times.  I am thankful my true Abba Daddy has my earthly daddy in his hands.  He didn't even really get over the asthma, because I have heard him wheeze many times.  The devil is such a liar.


Grama Amy also made my dad kiss a little dead boy who had died at a very early age.  Mom told me this, because, evidently it is one of the few early memories Dad shared with her.  It could be part of the reason they shooed me away when Grampa Edwards died.  Sometimes when we feel we are being rejected, it is really God's way of protecting us.


Grama used to let us watch Bozo the Clown and Howdy Doody during lunch time on Disney TV trays in the living room. I liked the one with Dumbo.  Steve usually had the Mickey Mouse tray.  She cut our peanut butter or bologna sandwiches into party pieces and finished it off with cookies and milk if we ate everything.  Sometimes we got to see Buffalo Bob and Sheri and Lambchop if it came on while we were there.


These memories of The Edwards did not come from photos.  I don't remember seeing many pictures of Dad's side of the family, unfortunately.  But the love was there, a family love that comes down from God above, no matter how messed up those are who dispense it.  Grampa was also a thirty third degree Mason.  I found this out later.  I don't remember much about him, except he was quiet and died when I was twelve years old.  It was the only time I ever heard Dad cry.  I heard him crying in the shower the morning Grama called to tell him.  They let me go to the visitation, but not to the funeral.  I was sent up north with Mary Underdown that weekend.  I felt rejected and lonely and wished I could have been with the family.  I wanted to give my cross to Grampa to take to the grave, but they had him cremated.  I somehow knew the cross was associated with death and people's need for Jesus at that time of their existence.  I remember when he died, they had him laid out on the couch for the first day.  I guess it was a custom people who did not have a lot of money followed at that time.


Grampa and Dad and Uncle Bob built a summer cottage for Grama and Uncle Tom on the Detroit River near Amherstberg, Ontario.  It was one of my favorite places to visit.  They installed a pot belly stove to heat it and a huge attic fan to cool in summers.  We played such games as Sorry, Tiddly Winks and Parcheesi when it rained or sat on the porch swing watching freighters go down the river.  I learned the route of, Paddle to the Sea and the antics of Little Toot and heard the tales of Nurse Jane and Uncle Wiggley before bedtime when at the cottage.


It is so nice to be able to get away from home for a weekend perk.  I was very blessed to have frequently been able to visit Grama and Grampa Edwards in Canada.  Grampa even went to work from the cottage, since it was very close to Detroit.  We were allowed to stay up late during the annual barn dance at the Grace's.  It was said to be pretty rowdy, but I only remember being asked to dance by Red Wilson or Lou Bouberette of the Detroit Tigers.  Square dancing was lots of fun.


The nextdoor neighbors, the Dick Prices,  were close friends and had not only a bunk house and outhouse in back but a beach house down on the river.  We used the dock and beach adjacent to it for our swimming escapades.  The river was not clean, but we swam anyway.  There were big globs of seaweed that floated by at regular interludes with the current.  The water was cloudy and the sand dirty with oily spots as well.  But this did not bother us when we got to cool off on the hot and humid days of July and early August.  I often got to swim down at the Graces beach when an adult was there to watch.  


On the weekends when Uncle Tom and Bob were there, they would take me by the arms and legs and throw me off the dock.  I had no choice but to become a strong swimmer, since not only was there a steady current in the river, but a pull when freighters went by.  Sometimes we did not get out in time to avoid it.  We had to swim like crazy to get back to shore or the dock.


We also had lots of fun playing croquet in the front yard.  I never tired of that game.  Grama was the type of cook who did it all herself.  She even had a plaque over the stove that said, "There is only one finger allowed in this pot - mine!"  So I spent endless hours playing croquet while dinner was being prepared.  She did allow us to set the table, so I had to leave the game when they set up the table on the front porch and handed me the tablecloth.


How I miss not only the fresh, locally grown corn on the cob, tomatoes, cucumbers and green beans we shared, but the family togetherness we experienced on weekends in Canada.