I call this picture "Chompin' at the Purefoy" (not to be confused with "Stompin' at the Savoy"). It was taken at the annual Wyatt-McCranie Christmas dinner, held at the old Purefoy Hotel in Talladega, Alabama. (My grandmother was a Wyatt who married a McCranie, hence the name:) That’s “Grandme,” third from the left, at the horizontal table in back—the one just right of the American flag, wearing a hat, and looking a little aggravated. Look to the rear right, at the little girl with a flower in her hair, seated underneath the "Feed Hungry Europe" poster. That's my mother. And if you follow a diagonal line from her to the left front corner, you'll see a little boy—our cousin Jimmy, who gave me this picture. He and Mama were constant playmates back then, especially in the summertime, when Wyatt's Lake was open for business. She is still quite proud of the fact that she and Jimmy could swim the length of the lake underwater. No word on whether snorkels were involved. The lady next to Jimmy is his mother, my Great-Aunt Margaret, who is repsonsible for making me play my very first congregational hymn in church. I was probably 12 or 13, and the pianist was absent that Sunday. I was at the piano, waiting to play my offertory (which was all I played back then), when Aunt Margaret, the interim choir director, marched down to the piano and whispered forcefully: "We're having trouble hearing with just the organ. Can't you help us out on 'I Am Resolved?'" Turns out, I could and I did. I am resolved no longer to linger, charmed by the world's delight; things that are higher, things that are nobler, these have allured my sight. I won't go around the whole table (though I'd like to), but I MUST point out the gentleman next to Aunt Margaret, Jimmy's dad and my Great-Uncle Clyde. He called my grandmother "Sister," actually "Sistah," which I always thought was sweet. And he called ME, with a wink of mischief, his "old-maid niece" (I married at 43), and delighted in reminding me, "Now you just let me know when I need to get my weddin' suit pressed." I love this circle of parents and grandparents, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles and cousins. I love that the ladies all have on corsages and the men are wearing boutonnieres (somebody check my spelling on that one). To me, those flowers say that this was a special occasion and that my family honored their special time together. We SHOULD honor our time with the people we love. It's a gift.
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January 30, 2013
Chompin' at the Purefoy, 1947
I call this picture "Chompin' at the Purefoy" (not to be confused with "Stompin' at the Savoy"). It was taken at the annual Wyatt-McCranie Christmas dinner, held at the old Purefoy Hotel in Talladega, Alabama. (My grandmother was a Wyatt who married a McCranie, hence the name:) That’s “Grandme,” third from the left, at the horizontal table in back—the one just right of the American flag, wearing a hat, and looking a little aggravated. Look to the rear right, at the little girl with a flower in her hair, seated underneath the "Feed Hungry Europe" poster. That's my mother. And if you follow a diagonal line from her to the left front corner, you'll see a little boy—our cousin Jimmy, who gave me this picture. He and Mama were constant playmates back then, especially in the summertime, when Wyatt's Lake was open for business. She is still quite proud of the fact that she and Jimmy could swim the length of the lake underwater. No word on whether snorkels were involved. The lady next to Jimmy is his mother, my Great-Aunt Margaret, who is repsonsible for making me play my very first congregational hymn in church. I was probably 12 or 13, and the pianist was absent that Sunday. I was at the piano, waiting to play my offertory (which was all I played back then), when Aunt Margaret, the interim choir director, marched down to the piano and whispered forcefully: "We're having trouble hearing with just the organ. Can't you help us out on 'I Am Resolved?'" Turns out, I could and I did. I am resolved no longer to linger, charmed by the world's delight; things that are higher, things that are nobler, these have allured my sight. I won't go around the whole table (though I'd like to), but I MUST point out the gentleman next to Aunt Margaret, Jimmy's dad and my Great-Uncle Clyde. He called my grandmother "Sister," actually "Sistah," which I always thought was sweet. And he called ME, with a wink of mischief, his "old-maid niece" (I married at 43), and delighted in reminding me, "Now you just let me know when I need to get my weddin' suit pressed." I love this circle of parents and grandparents, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles and cousins. I love that the ladies all have on corsages and the men are wearing boutonnieres (somebody check my spelling on that one). To me, those flowers say that this was a special occasion and that my family honored their special time together. We SHOULD honor our time with the people we love. It's a gift.
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Come On In And Meet Everybody
I come from a long line of feisty Southern women—women with wit and wisdom, faith and strength.
Loved this story! After reading, not 2 minutes had gone by and I caught myself whistling "I am resolved". Then Claude joined in and was whistling with me. LOL Is that your Uncle Ferrell third on the right from the front? I was trying to pick some others out. Love the photo. Your mother is so cute!
Posted by: Sarah Slaughter | January 30, 2013 at 07:55 AM
Hey! I'm so glad I made the Slaughters sing! Yep, that's Uncle Ferrell. If you look at the comments on that post on Facebook, you'll see one from Jimmy Wyatt where he names everybody. Aunt Joyce is on the same side of the table as Uncle Ferrell:) Would love to visit! Hope I can see you soon! xoxo!!
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