Authors: Donna Mabry
I heard the sound of voices shouting outside.
Bessie and I went out to the porch. People were
gathered in clusters on the sidewalk and in the street,
talking loudly, waving their arms, men shaking their
fists in the air. Some of the women were crying.
Bessie went over to a group and asked what had
happened. When she came back, her face was white,
and she was shaking. I was afraid to hear the news. She
grabbed my arm. “Maude, the Japanese bombed the
fleet at Pearl Harbor.”
“Where is Pearl Harbor?” Betty Sue asked.
Bessie said, “It’s in Hawaii.”
“What does that mean? What’s going to happen
We turned on the radio and listened to the news.
I had only one thing on my mind, Gene.
The news was repeated often, and we listened to
it on several stations. After an hour or so, George,
Gene and John joined the men out on the street. By late
evening, we all finally went to bed. I think Paul was
the only one who slept well that night. I lay awake
wondering what the future would bring. George
worried about Bud, already in uniform. I worried
about Gene, whose health seemed to be fully restored.
He would be a prime candidate for the draft.
It would be days before the final tragic toll
would be realized, but almost the entire Pacific fleet of
the United States had been in port at Pearl Harbor
when a Japanese force estimated at 360 planes had
started bombing just before eight o’clock that
morning. They targeted the ships in port, the American
planes sitting on the airstrips, and ground troops
stationed on Oahu. Eighteen ships were sunk or greatly
damaged, and American forces suffered 3,700
casualties.
The next day, the President addressed Congress,
and it declared war on Japan. On December 11,
Germany and Italy, who were war partners with Japan,
declared war on the United States.
It was all anyone talked about. Even in church
the next Sunday, the pastor preached a sermon on how
it was up to Christians to fight against evil. The male
members sat there shouting, “Amen!” The women
nodded their heads in agreement. I felt the grip of
terror in my heart. We’d all thought that sooner or later,
we would have to fight Hitler. Most of us didn’t worry
about Japan until that awful day.
The next morning, Gene didn’t come downstairs
at the regular time to get the breakfast I had ready for
him. I hoped he was just oversleeping, but in my heart
I had a pretty good idea why he wasn’t at the table. I
went upstairs and tapped on his door. “You’re going to
be late for work, Gene. Better get up.”
The door opened and Gene, dressed in his church
suit and tie, and holding his hat in his hand, stepped
out in the hall. “I’m not going to work today, Mom.
I’m going down with some of the other men to enlist.”
I froze, wanting to grab him and hold him but not
able to move. I just stood there and stared at him. He
wrapped his arms around me and held me close. “I’ll
be all right, Mom. We’ll get into this and in a few
months it’ll be over. Who did they think they were
messing with? Didn’t they know this would be the end
of them?”
I opened my mouth to speak but couldn’t force
any sound from my throat. I just nodded and turned to
go to the kitchen. Gene followed me downstairs, and I
finally found my voice. “Come eat before you go. No
telling how long it will take. I hear that every ablebodied man in the country is lining up to enlist.”
Gene took a seat and buttered a biscuit while I
slid his eggs and ham off the plate and back into the
frying pan to warm them. Then I put them back on the
dish and set it down in front of him. He ate as if he
didn’t have a care in the world while I made myself
busy around the kitchen. I tried to sound normal when
I asked, “What kind of work do you think they’ll have
you doing, Gene?”
He pursed his lips and thought it over. “Well, I
heard that men with CCC experience would probably
go into the Corps of Engineers, building bridges,
roads, that sort of thing.”
Somehow, this eased my fear a little. If he were
building bridges, maybe he wouldn’t have people
shooting at him. I sighed and turned to look at him.
“Gene, Bud is already in the Army. He’ll have to go.
Can’t you stay here?”
He looked shocked. “Mom, how could I stay
here? I have to go, or I’d never be able to show my
face. Any man my age with no family has a duty to
do.”
I nodded. “I already made your lunch. You may
as well take it with you. You may be gone all day, and
I don’t know if they’ll have anything there for you to
eat.”
He stood, hugged me again, and kissed my
cheek. “I’ll come straight home as soon as they’re
through with me. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
He grabbed the lunch pail and hurried out the
back door. I stood there looking after him. “Don’t
worry,” he’d said.
A few minutes later, George came into the
kitchen and started cooking his bacon. “Gene’s gone
down to sign up,” I said.
George yawned. “I know. He told me last night
that he thought it was the right thing to do.”
I was speechless. George had known this since
last night and hadn’t said a word to me, hadn’t made
any effort to prepare me? He didn’t even take the
trouble to come downstairs and say goodbye to his
son.
I stared at the handle of the cast-iron skillet where
the thick slices of bacon hissed as the grease cooked
out of them. I wanted to pick it up and hammer
George’s head with it. For a moment I hated him,
really hated him.
Then shame filled me. I seemed to fail more and
more every day in my search for a state of grace. I
would have to pray twice as hard for God to forgive
me and to help me to be the Christian woman I wanted
to be.
Gene came home with a sad expression on his
face. He was 4F. His injury at the CCC was too severe
for him to serve. I couldn’t control my emotions. I was
relieved he wouldn’t be in the army, but at the same
time, I felt sorry for him. He’d been rejected and felt
bad about it. I felt guilt that inside I was celebrating
his rejection, but I was filled again with fear for his
health. He’d been hurt so much that even in a time of
war, he couldn’t serve his country.
Bud came home on leave with the news that he
wouldn’t be shipped overseas right away. He had too
much experience and was needed here to help train the
hundreds of thousands of men who had joined up since
the attack at Pearl Harbor. He would be transferred to
Fort Knox, Kentucky, for his new assignment.
Bud was home for two weeks. He went out
drinking almost every night. After the first night, I
locked him out. When he came home late, he pounded
on the door and woke the whole house. George started
to get up and to let him in. I grabbed his arm. “Get
back in bed, George. I won’t have a drunk sleeping
under my roof. If he wants to stay here, he better get
sober and stay that way.”
“You can’t turn him out, Maude. If he goes
overseas, he could be killed. Then how would you
feel?”
“He isn’t likely to get killed in Kentucky unless
he starts up drinking too much of that homemade
moonshine they make there. He can sleep in the
garage, but when he’s drunk, he can’t sleep inside my
house.”
George got out of bed and stood there in his long
underwear. “I don’t care what you say. I’m not going
to let my son sleep in the garage in the middle of
winter.”
I stood, too. “Tell him to sleep inside John’s
truck. He’s got enough alcohol inside him to keep him
warm.”
George shook his head. “I can’t do that, Maude.
This is my boy, and I’m the one that pays the rent here,
not you. I’m not letting him sleep outside, but I’ll tell
him if he wants to sleep inside after tonight, he has to
stay sober.”
If George told him to stay sober, it didn’t do any
good. Bud came home drunk every night until the last
day of his leave and then finally sobered up for his trip
to Kentucky. George and John drove him to the train
station to see him off. I didn’t go with them, and I
didn’t pack him a lunch to take for his trip. I was glad
he was gone. That night I asked God to help me deal
with my feelings, or lack of them, for my oldest son
and to help me fight hating George for making me feel
so helpless. It was as if I had no say over what went on
in my own house.
Gene and Betty Sue had never given me an ounce
of grief. Bud and Paul had given me nothing but grief.
One afternoon in April of 1942, Betty Sue came in
with Evelyn following quietly behind her. I hadn’t
seen Evelyn in months. The girls said a polite hello to
me and went up to Betty Sue’s room. I was irritated to
have Evelyn back in our home. Gene had just come
home from work and gone to take his bath. He would
be downstairs soon for his sandwich. I hoped that with
the passing of time, and the war and all, he’d gotten
over her. I was afraid that seeing Evelyn again would
just stir up his old feelings. He hadn’t mentioned
another girl since she’d stopped visiting.
I put the sandwiches on the table, including an
extra one for Evelyn, but no one came to get them
except Paul. After a few more minutes I walked to the
hallway and started to call up the stairs. I put my hand
on the banister and opened my mouth, but what I saw
made me stop.
Gene was standing outside Betty Sue’s door,
leaning close to it so he could hear what was being said
inside. I stood and watched him. I could hear the sound
of the girls’ voices but couldn’t make out what they
were saying. After a minute Gene tapped on the door.
Betty Sue opened it and he went in. I didn’t move. I
heard Evelyn crying, then more talking.
When the door finally opened, I hurried back to
the kitchen and stirred the pot of chicken and
dumplings I was making for supper. Betty Sue came
into the kitchen, followed by Gene holding Evelyn’s
hand. Evelyn kept her eyes on the floor. I knew it was
going to be bad news and braced myself.
Gene smiled at me as if he were afraid of me.
“Evelyn and I are getting married, Mom. We’re going
down to city hall tomorrow.”
I looked from him to Evelyn, who still kept her
eyes down. I knew as sure as I knew anything that it
wouldn’t do me any good to fight with him about it.
“All right,” I said, and turned my back to them. I was
filled with anger, filled with fear for my boy, and fear
for myself, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Gene was determined to marry this girl.
When I was a child, my mother had tucked me
in every night and at first said prayers for me. Then as
I grew old enough, she listened to me say my own.
After my mother died, I’d said them on my own every
night of my life. When I got ready to pray that night, I
stopped myself and put it off until another day. For the
first time, I went to sleep without talking to God. I
knew now I would never attain the sinless state of
grace I sought. I felt a seed of hatred growing in my
heart for this beautiful girl my precious son loved so
much. I knew without a doubt that Evelyn would bring
grief into our lives.
They were married Friday at city hall and the
next day Evelyn’s parents brought her clothes and
things over to our house. I could see where Evelyn got
her looks. Her father was handsome, tall, and wellbuilt. He had black hair, brown eyes, and chiseled
features that told of his part-Cherokee family. Evelyn’s
beautiful mother was much younger looking than I
was. She had golden-brown hair and deep blue eyes,
with a rounded figure that must have once been the
same as Evelyn’s, but that time and childbearing had
filled out to a pleasant, matronly look.
George welcomed them and he and Gene tried to
make them feel comfortable. After they carried
Evelyn’s things upstairs to Gene’s room, George asked
them to sit down and offered them coffee. They sat in
the kitchen and talked a little about their families.
The men hit it off, George’s charm working as it
always did. Evelyn’s father was named Smith, his
wife, Ola.
Smith poured some of the steaming hot coffee
into the saucer to cool and sipped it with little slurps. I
thought that undignified but ignored it. George told
him about our trip to Detroit and Smith nodded his
head. “We came from Silver Point, Tennessee, over on
the east side of the state. I had a little farm and we kept
it going as long as we could, but we never had good
bottom land. Some of our fields were so steep it was
hard not to fall out of them.”
The men laughed over the joke and when Smith
swayed and almost fell out of his chair, I realized
Evelyn’s father had been drinking. I was outraged. It
wasn’t even noon.
Smith went on with his story. “We were just
getting by with what crops would grow in such a little
bit of rain. We finally gave up when the cow died.
There were too many children to be without milk and
we didn’t have money to buy another cow. I made a
little from the still, but the government men found that
and smashed it. I didn’t have money to build another
one. We had to come here. A friend got me in at the
United Rubber Company.”
I couldn’t help myself. I burst out, “You ran a
still?”
Smith could tell how I felt and he shrugged. “We
came from the hill country. A man did what he had to
do to feed his family. If the crops failed, he sold
whiskey. I got my first still when I was twelve. It
meant I was a man. I was finished with school and
worked the farm full-time, just like my daddy. He
taught me how to plow a hillside, how to tend to the
livestock, and how to make corn liquor. Every farmer
around had a still. You prayed you wouldn’t need to
use it, but when you did, you gave thanks that you
didn’t see your children go without eating.” He had no
apology or embarrassment in his voice.
I didn’t have an answer to that. I’d had no idea
that such things went on, children quitting school to
make moonshine. It certainly wouldn’t have been
allowed in my home town. Eastern Tennessee must be
an entirely different world from the west side of the
state.
The room became uncomfortable for everyone in
it. Smith pushed his cup and saucer away and stood.
“Thank you for everything.” He looked directly at
Gene, who stood with his arm around Evelyn’s waist,
and nodded. “We appreciate it.”
Gene nodded back at him, blushing at the
meaning of his words.
I knew the Mayses were relieved that Evelyn had
married, even under these circumstances. It was no
small thing in 1942 for a young woman to be in a
family way and not married. She would have been said
to have “gotten herself in trouble,” and the whole
family would be looked down on.
I couldn’t even force myself to go beyond not
being outright rude. I couldn’t help thinking if they had
properly watched over their daughter, this wouldn’t
have happened.
The whole situation was uncomfortable. I was
relieved when they left. I stayed in the kitchen while
George, Gene, and Evelyn walked them out to their
car. George kept talking to Smith until the car finally
drove away. When Gene and Evelyn went up to what
was now their room, George turned angrily to me.
“Maude, what in the world is the matter with you? You
could at least be polite.”
I gritted my teeth and frowned. I almost shouted,
“You know how I feel about this whole situation. It’s
bad enough as it is, and then he comes here drinking.”
“Keep your voice down. Do you want Evelyn to
hear you?”
“I don’t care if she does hear me. She needs to
tell that father of hers if he ever comes here again he
better be sober.”
“He wasn’t drunk. He’s only had one or two. It’s
not easy for him, this happening, besides, I have a beer
or two myself, from time to time.”
“I don’t think he was drinking beer, and I know
very much that you drink, George, and that you always
have, and you know what? I’ve about had enough of
that, too, but at least you have the consideration that
you don’t drink so much that you show it.”
George opened his mouth to say something else,
then just put his palms up in front of him in surrender,
turned, and left the house.