"Cleata Mae Dean"
by
Donna Kolb

Beautiful, no striking is the way I'd discuss Cleata Dean, although I just call her Mamaw. I was her first grandchild and I so I like to think that I pinned her with that name. But, knowing her like I do, I'd say it was at her suggestion. She's very opinionated, while at the same time indecisive. Any decision made by her must be run by her "boys" and her daughter Cheryl. She didn't use to be as opinionated as she is now.
In fact , there are times now when she cuts to the quick as she asks you a question or tells you what she's observed .

Her name is unusual. I've never met anyone else with the name. She doesn't like it. It suits her though.
Whenever anyone asks who I am. Meaning: what is your family lineage. I tell them I am Cleata Dean's granddaughter. The remark that follows goes something like: " Are you? I always liked Cleata. She's a fine woman or a pretty woman." Everyone it seems, knows her.

If you ask her what's most important to her, she'll answer quickly, " my family." What she might fail to mention is equally important to her, is her tenet of "doing the right thing". Sometimes this is based on societies standards but always, it satisfies hers. She goes above and beyond to rid herself of potential regret or oversight. Her family is the primary recipient of this creed. She has five children, her four boys, and one daughter. She has 11 grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren, not to mention numerous in-laws. She never forgets a birthday, even the in-laws. She lost her mother a few years back and last year, her brother.

Mamaw is a strong Republican. But, she is now on the Electoral Board and can't take the active part she'd like. Last election though, she sought the nomination from the Republican party to run for Supervisor in her district. However, after consulting with everyone and weighing her chances she threw in her hat too late. The "good ole' boy" system had already decided on a nominee. Had she got it, there is no doubt that she could have pulled off winning the election. Not getting the nomination from her party that she had supported for years, hurt her and she withdrew into herself for a bit. Even though she supported her parties nominee, when he lost to the Democratic candidate, I believe she had some vindication.

Not only does everyone know her name, she knows them. Noone goes to the funeral home more than her, not even preachers. She is forever, fixing food for some family members who have lost a loved one. According to her, "I have to do something." She also manages the Pennington Gap Cemetery where many of our family is buried.

She and I were forever going some place together. Once, when on our way somewhere, we were passed by an ambulance. She immediately accelerated the car. Lurching ahead, I looked sideways at her and asked, " Mamaw where are you going?" By this time, we had turned off the main highway and were directly behind the ambulance. "I'm going to follow them, Old so and so's been sick and I bet they're going to get him. Over the railroad tracks we went and climbed several hills and then back down near a river. She was intent on keeping up with the ambulance. We came to a screeching halt at the river. A car had went over in the river. I kept waiting for someone to ask us what we were doing there. She asked some people who was in the car. After she ascertained that it was noone she knew, we backed out of the holler and got back on the road. Her only comment was, "well you just never know when it might be somebody you know that they're going after."

My earliest memories of her are when she ran Dean's Store on Stone Creek. Papaw worked the mines. I loved watching her slice balogna and wrap it in the butcher's paper. Then she'd ring them up on that big wooden cash register. Always talking and laughing while she worked. For me, the best days were when the feed truck came. I loved climbing in the back of that truck and rolling over the bags of feed . Sometimes I think back to that, when I have to go to the Co-Op for something and smell that smell. I don't remember Mamaw ever telling me not to do something or telling me I couldn't eat something. I ate my first plum after asking her what they were in the store one day. The first time I remember using lipstick was some that she had for sale in the store.

On Sunday's if I had spent the night with her and Papaw, we'd eat a big breakfast, then we'd get ready for church. She'd always let me finish watching cartoons even though it meant we were late. Sometimes she'd come in the room when a special group was on the Mall's Singing Convention and watch for a minute. I loved going to Pine Grove church with her and Papaw. When the preacher preached, I'd sit beside Mamaw. She taught me silently how to make silver trophies out of Wrigley's gum wrappers, while she stroked my hair in her lap. . She and Papaw sang in a quartet with another couple. I vaguely remember them practicing at home. Papaw's big fingers on the piano while Mamaw sang.

Mamaw wore night cream and I loved the smell of it and how she smoothed it diligently over her face and neck. She always wore silky pajamas that felt cool against my skin and at the same time seemed to give her an air of elegance. Somehow every experience with her was always so special, no matter how routine. Her pancakes were thin and small, so you appeared to be eating more. She always had butter in a serving dish and cold syrup. I remember when her and Papaw moved to Jonesville. One day for lunch we decided to eat outside on one of the porches. It seemed so grown up and like I imagined rich people lived.

Mamaw has always loved jewelry. I have adopted her love of it. Although my taste is much cheaper than hers. She used to let me go through her gold jewelry box with the pull out drawers and mirror on top. I'd put on strand after strand of beads, earrings and broaches. In fact, I'd try on her shoes and about anything she had. Even today I think she has the most beautiful clothes, shoes and jewelry and would be content to try them on. As I said her taste exceeds my means and according to her, "I just can't help it; I love expensive things and why, I don't know. I wish my taste wasn't like that because I can't afford my taste."

Whenever I didn't want to be in my parents home anymore, I'd call Mamaw. I'd sneak and use the phone when I knew Mom was going to be out of the room for a while. "Mamaw, would you call Mom and ask her if I could spend the night? Don't tell her I told you." In a little while, the phone would ring and I'd listen outside the doorway. Mom usually made the excuse that she needed to consult with Dad when he came home, even though he never had a problem with it.

I eventually made the move to Mamaws, semi-permanently, at age 18. Papaw had been dead about six years and she had moved from their house outside Jonesville to one in Town. Our living together only lasted a while and then I went back to school, but I saw her several weekends when I came home or she came to college. I remember telling her about Tony during our living together time and then showing her our picture together. She just looked at the picture and then at me, back and forth. You see, Tony happened to be black. She stood inside the house while Dad confronted me with the news he had just learned from Mom. It was a trying time with my parents and she stood sometimes beside me, sometimes behind me. During that time we both met our future husbands. I never thought about it like that, but we did.

She began dating Ben I think, even before she moved into the house in Town. He was a presence that noone in the family could figure why he was there. He was nice enough to Mamaw and he had been a hard worker, an old friend of the family and was rumored to have quite a bit of money. We had a joke in the family long before Mamaw started dating Ben. He wore his pants a bit high above the waist, kind of like a cummerbund and so anytime someone's' pants were pulled up a little, someone else would say automatically, "Ben Sergent, pull your britches down." Even after she eventually married him, we'd almost forget and say it out loud.

Once before she married him though, we took a trip. She and I and Ben set out to Nashville to see Papaw's brother's daughter, Sue. Ben insisted on driving or should I say alternately accelerated rapidly then braked, all the way to Nashville. Not only that, but he chain smoked with an inhaling sound much like the "e,e,e" sound they tell expectant mother's to use during contractions. When we got there, we found a room. Ben remarked that they had a pool and we should use it. Mamaw discouraged it and we seperated soon after dinner. He went to his room and we went to ours. When we did, we laughed about everything and then she said in a whispery voice, " I bet he's asleep by now, you want to go swimming?' I agreed and we snuck down to the pool. The next day, when we finally found where cousin Sue lived, she told him we needed to find him a room because he wasn't going with us. So, we found him a Holiday Inn with a pool as she pointed out. Then she and I set out to Sue's . I never knew why she wouldn't let him go. I guess it was out of respect for Papaw, even though she told Sue she'd left him at the hotel and Sue told her he could have stayed there. She laughs now about all the trying times with Ben.

We took other trips too. Once we took off to Hickory, North Carolina. We were going to a wedding of a distant cousin, who I am rumored to look like. We had no map and no clue where we were going. I remember all those mountains and her looking at me and saying, "do you think we're going the right way." "Well at lease we can say we've been somewhere we've never been." We laughed and talked to truckers on her CB and eventually made it.

Even when I moved to Salem she was there for me. I had my son and she was there along with my mom not long after the delivery. She wanted to take me home with her, which in turn upset my husband. He just didn't know her sense of obligation like I did. Even if she couldn't take me, she wanted me to know she would if she could. I talked to her frequently by phone and always visited when I came home with my
son. She called me once to tell me about a dream she had had of me. She said she dreamed she came to visit and I opened the door wearing a maid's uniform. She needed reasurrance that I was not being treated in this manner and I did. She came again to Salem when I was babtized. She still talks about how "the spirit moved her" in my church. She came to Salem one other time with Ben. We had ridden the bus home and since she and Ben were going to a conference in Northern Virginia, she opted to let us ride back with them. Boy, was that a tense situation. Ben disapproved of my marriage, and certainly my son and so there was little conversation during the three and one-half hour drive. My son, who has from birth been wonderful to travel with, refused to set down the whole way or to remove his coat and hood. Mamaw was beside herself, because she felt responsible. Later, she remarked, "even Sidney no older than he was, knew something wasn't right."

While living in Salem I missed one of the many traditions in our family: Christmas Eve at Mamaw's. I always called and talked with everyone and Mamaw never failed to say, "Honey, I sure wish you were here, Well we all do." Thanksgiving is another time we all gather at Mamaw's and she cooks herself into
almost total exhaustion by the time the meal is complete. On top of that, she refuses to sit down and eat until she has observed that everyone has eaten enough. "Honey, is that all you're going to eat, isn't there anything over there you want?" said to someone with a semi-filled plate. I remember the first time I brought my friend Danny to eat at her house. She came over and scanned his plate. "Wayne is that all you're going to eat? You need more than that." and proceeded to take his plate. Upon returning it, I said,
"Mamaw, his name is Danny." She just laughed and said, "Oh, well that must have been some other man she brought over here" ( knowing, I hadn't )

Other traditions at Mamaw's are "Squirrel breakfasts and Oyster breakfasts" at least once a year. Her cooking is renowned, especially her bisquits. I remember Papaw complimenting her at every meal, using the same line, "Mae, I believe these are about the best bisquits I ever ate." The other time we all gather at her house is on July 4th, not to celebrate our Independance, but her birthday. It's one of the few times, she allows others to cook, not that she doesn't whip up a little slaw or bake a cake to go with it. You can never just stop by and not eat. If you do, you have to take something with you for later. When, I took a job at Social Services, she made it her mission to feed all the girls I worked with. So, taking four or five of us at a time, she proceeded to feed the masses at Social Services. As she explained her reasoning, "they might be nicer to you."

As I said we've traveled a lot together. Once when I was Clerk of Pennington Gap, I was to go to Charlottesville and the County Clerk, Charlie Calton asked me to go with him. I discussed it with Mamaw and we felt it would n't look right for me to travel alone with him, so she opted to go. It wasn't like she didn't know "Porky" as she always called him. So, I drove "Porky's big Cadillac up and back and they reminisced about life on Stone Creek. Periodically, they complimented me on my driving. On another work related trip, I had to go to Richmond and she went with me. She again wanted to visit one of Papaw's nieces. So we made plans for Billie to pick us up for supper. We hugged and greeted her and then we got in the car to go. Billie non-chalantly put the car in gear and backed into the car behind her and then put it in drive and drove off, seeming not to notice. Mamaw and I gave each other raised eye brow looks and put our seat belts on. When we returned to the motel hours later, we burst with laughter and then sobered up realizing we were accomplices in the act and then we laughed again.

She's traveled to a lot of places with others besides me. Regarding one such trip recently, I got a call from my mom. "Can you go and pick up your Mamaw in Kingsport?' she asked. "Sure, where's she at?" "Ralph's Bar and Grill." "Her car broke down and she's sent the other's with the tow truck, but there wasn't room for her." When I arrived at the bar after getting lost, she practically ran through the glass door as she pushed it to get out. We laughed as she related tales of her stay there. She said several had offered to buy her drinks and take her home. At age 76, she's still got it! One other time she ended up in a bar. She went into this place called "Hoggies" in Stone Creek to get a custard. "Mrs. Dean, I don't think you should be here." the man who owned it told her. "This is not "The Custard Stand" anymore. This is a bar."

I wish she could find a man worthy of her. I fear there are none out there for either of us. Although I don't count myself as worthy as she, I think she sees herself in me when it comes to men. We've discussed how ironic it is that our lives have parelleled. We both had marriages at the same time to men who sought to control and repress our spirits. Though, her last day with Ben was more courageous probably than the day I left my husband. Indeed the old gal rallied on that final day, even though like me, she planned it a few weeks prior. As she tells the story, "I told him that morning, that when he came back from playing golf, I wouldn't be there. I was moving out." He laughed and told her she had no where to go . "You'll see" she said. When he left, she called for two of her grandsons to bring their trucks to move her. She had found a house to rent in Jonesville. She decided to wait until he returned, to leave instead. Again, he smirked and much like the character "Mr." In the Color Purple, he told her she couldn't make it without him, that she'd be back, she wasn't smart, etc.. How wrong he proved to be. Just the other day,
she said, "I probably wouldn't have been able to do all the things I've done, had I not left."

What she did was to go back to work. She worked in a furniture store and a pawn shop. She took care of her mother with Alzheimers until she died. She learned to square dance and dances now with a group at various functions. As I said, she ran for political office. She has nursed many members of her family and friends through such things as cancer, heart surgery, leg surgery, etc. Many of them have survived but she has lost several friends and acquaintences. She thanks God daily for sparing all of her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and in-laws. She has recently joined the Hospice organization and began sitting with persons in their last days.

In an ironic turn of events, she was recently called about a patient. They asked her to sit with a man who was dying of lung cancer. It was Ben. She called him and asked him what he'd think of this arrangement. He said he'd love it. So, in his final days, she offered words, prayer, and gestures of comfort. Today, we attended his service as he was lain to rest. As she told me, "I don't have any regrets where Ben is concerned. I did what I felt I should do."

Mamaw loves trying new things. She's done ceramics, painted sweatshirts, embroidered, painted pictures, decorated cakes, did photo albums,etc. She is forever planting something outside or renovating her house.
With all her activities at home, she still finds time to be on the go visiting the sick or bereaved or shopping for and attending birthday gatherings. Not only that but she attends various social functions. Recently, I talked her into possibly working at the Lee County Jail as a fill in cook. She trained a few days and on one of those days I witnessed her working. She was in her element cooking for all those people and then standing back watching them eat it. She reveled in the conversations that took place in the kitchen between the jailors, road officers, judge and others. Her eyes danced and she grinned and threw in a comment now and then, all the while refilling their glasses and telling them to eat more. Unfortunately, by being on the Electoral Board, she couldn't work there. But, "It was a good experience."
As she says of herself, "I'm just a people person, I just love people."

She never fails to brag on me. Sometimes it's to my face, and sometimes it's to others. In a crowd she always introduces me as her granddaughter. However, there have been several times, when people have autimatically assumed that I am her daughter. I take this as a compliment. Mamaw has been the biggest inspiration to me. Simply by example, she has taught me to keep trying new things and even things not planned are experiences not to be forgotten. I have often remarked that I hope to have half her beauty and stamina when I am her age. I think I emulate her rule in trying to live life with few regrets and I add my own: what others may think of, as my mistakes were my learning times and my stepping stones. They helped carve me into who I am.