My good friend, Frank Boyette from Red Springs, knows that I enjoy reminiscing about growing up on a farm and what it was like when life seemed so much more simple than it is today. He also knows that I like to share my stories and experiences with others, often writing about them in this column.

Several weeks ago, Frank sent me an E-mail message that brought back a lot of memories. I thought I would share the contents of this message with you by adapting them to my own personal experiences. Hopefully, it will bring back memories for you as well, especially memories about your grandmother, favorite aunt, elderly neighbor, or maybe even your mother.

I grew up on a small farm in rural Wayne County. We lived next door to my grandfather and grandmother. In fact, the only thing that separated our house from their house was a garden and a huge grapevine where my brother and I spent countless hours playing and pretending we were defending our "fort" from enemy troops.

All of our farm equipment, as well as the mules and the milk cow, were kept in barns behind my grandparents' house. Because of this, my brother and I spent about as much time around our grandparents as we did around our own parents. Like with most farm families, we developed a special bond with our grandparents that you do not seem to see as often today.

Although she passed away almost 20 years ago, I can still remember my grandmother very vividly. She was a headstrong little lady, standing only about five feet tall. She was devoted to her family, and her main mission was to take care of us as we worked the fields and took care of daily chores around the farm. After my grandfather died in the late 70s, she never traveled away from her home except to go to church. My mother and father even did her grocery shopping for her.

I never really thought about it until I read the E-mail message that Frank sent to me, but as I think about my grandmother, I cannot help but remember her wearing her apron. Every memory I have of her, except when she was going to church, she was wearing an apron. I guess her apron was as much a part of her daily attire as a shirt and pants are for me.

As I read the E-mail message, I realized just how important that apron was for her. Not only did it protect the clothes she was wearing underneath, it also served as a potholder for removing hot pans from the oven.

I remember on many occasions she used the apron to dry away the tears from our eyes when we had those everyday injuries that happen to kids growing up on a farm. I can even remember her using it to wipe away the sleep from our eyes or to clean our ears when she thought they were dirty.

Granny always had a pen full of chickens. She used the apron to carry eggs back to the house. I even remember seeing the apron full of little chicks as she moved them to another nest.

As most children are, we were very bashful when strangers came around the house. I remember hiding behind Granny's apron, using it to shield my face, hopefully to make me invisible, but still curious enough that I wanted to know what was going on.

I can still see Granny pull the apron up around her arms when she needed to go outside during the winter but did not take the time to put on a sweater. She used it to wipe away the perspiration as she worked over the hot stove in the kitchen or as she worked in her garden. She used it to carry firewood and kindling to the old pot-bellied stove in the sitting room and as she carried vegetables from the garden back to the house. When she shelled peas or beans, she gathered up the empty shells in her apron to take to the chicken pen.

When unexpected company stopped by her house, and often as she moved from one chore to another inside the house, she used the apron to dust off the furniture. When the chickens got out of the pen, she used the apron to shoo them out of her flowers. When a meal was ready, she would stand on the porch and wave the apron while calling to us to tell us it was time to come in from the fields to eat.

I now realize how important that apron was for my grandmother. It was not only functional clothing, it was a tool of her trade. I bet you remember someone that used an apron just as my grandmother did.

E-mail address: Everett_Davis@ncsu.edu

Mailing Address:
P. O. Box 2280
Lumberton, NC 28359-2280

Phone: 910-671-3276
Fax: 910-671-6278

Date Created 10/26/06