Daddy had a great passion for sellin’ anything. As long as he could make a dollar, Daddy was going to work as hard as possible to plow it, pluck somethin’ out of the ground, haul off, or sell, trade, buy at the Louisiana State Fair in Shreveport. Daddy came up to me before the biggest Louisiana State Fair ever and said, “we’re gonna hand out what I call ‘a round to its”. “What’s that Daddy?” I said. “Well, everybody’s always puttin’ off things to do and sayin’ when I get around to it maybe I’ll get something done.” What an ingenious idea. I bet I stood and handed out a thousand of those to a hundred people or more. A ‘round to it” is shaped like a quarter on beige background with coal black bold letters “Round to it or Get Around It.” People stared at them when they walked by our booth for five minutes or more and started laughin’. I figured we should patten that idea and become millionaires because Daddy wanted to buy a Rolls Royce for Ma someday and they’re expensive.
Marylee told me that story a thousand times or more when Daddy and Ma owned a gas station while livin’ in California when she was a three year old. She didn’t want to leave Beverly Hills and return to Grandma and Grandpa Matthews’ house in Seminole, Oklahoma before Pearl Harbor because she was taken’ tap dancin’ lessons at MGM Studios. Aunt Sarah got her into that because she recognized Marylee’s dancin’ talent and had the right connection in Hollywood with designin’ clothes for that famous actress and dancer named Anne Miller in the 1940’s. Daddy wanted to be closer to his parents when World War II broke out and didn’t think Marylee should be a famous tap dancer because you lose your privacy. I bet Daddy knew how famous Marylee could be since Shirley Temple was dancin’ a lot.
Now I’m in the habit of repeatin’ myself. Most of my friends never say a word about that but I told one of them one mornin’ the other day, “Let me know if I repeat a story if I’ve told it to you already two times or more and I’ll stop.” The only problem with that suggestion is I’m hard of hearin’ now and my friend had to interrupt me by yellin’, “Bev, you told me that already.” I didn’t feel too good about that and thought, “well, since I can’t hear worth a flip, I’m goin’ to tell my friend that I changed my mind on that idea.
Daddy had a great passion for sellin’ anything. As long as he could make a dollar, Daddy was going to work as hard as possible to plow it, pluck somethin’ out of the ground, haul off, or sell, trade, buy at the Louisiana State Fair in Shreveport. Daddy came up to me before the biggest Louisiana State Fair ever and said, “we’re gonna hand out what I call ‘a round to its”. “What’s that Daddy?” I said. “Well, everybody’s always puttin’ off things to do and sayin’ when I get around to it maybe I’ll get something done.” What an ingenious idea. I bet I stood and handed out a thousand of those to a hundred people or more. A ‘round to it” is shaped like a quarter on beige background with coal black bold letters “Round to it or Get Around It.” People stared at them when they walked by our booth for five minutes or more and started laughin’. I figured we should patten that idea and become millionaires because Daddy wanted to buy a Rolls Royce for Ma someday and they’re expensive.
Marylee told me that story a thousand times or more when Daddy and Ma owned a gas station while livin’ in California when she was a three year old. She didn’t want to leave Beverly Hills and return to Grandma and Grandpa Matthews’ house in Seminole, Oklahoma before Pearl Harbor because she was taken’ tap dancin’ lessons at MGM Studios. Aunt Sarah got her into that because she recognized Marylee’s dancin’ talent and had the right connection in Hollywood with designin’ clothes for that famous actress and dancer named Anne Miller in the 1940’s. Daddy wanted to be closer to his parents when World War II broke out and didn’t think Marylee should be a famous tap dancer because you lose your privacy. I bet Daddy knew how famous Marylee could be since Shirley Temple was dancin’ a lot.
Now I’m in the habit of repeatin’ myself. Most of my friends never say a word about that but I told one of them one mornin’ the other day, “Let me know if I repeat a story if I’ve told it to you already two times or more and I’ll stop.” The only problem with that suggestion is I’m hard of hearin’ now and my friend had to interrupt me by yellin’, “Bev, you told me that already.” I didn’t feel too good about that and thought, “well, since I can’t hear worth a flip, I’m goin’ to tell my friend that I changed my mind on that idea.
The Disappearin' Closet
Part Two
Continued from Home Page
"Eye in a Hurricane"
I survived living after dark without shelter as I fondly played the game 'kick the can' with my buddies until darkness fell and twilight stars shone brightly in the sky. I searched in the nighttime sky for the 'milky way' often as I wished on any star to get me out of where I lived on South Martin Street. I closed my eyes and sang "Jesus Loves Me" as I slept under an old tree in our poor neighborhood as Ma, unknowingly locked me out of the house again. I knew she didn't mean to and I forgave her everytime as she didn't recognize me after the horrible roller skating accident in California during WWII. I knew that she was so smart as a Senior Inspector for Douglas Aircraft during the war and not liked much. She refused to pass any aircraft that didn't meet safety standards for the military. Yet her roller skating accident with my Aunt Pauline, changed all of that.
Darkness closed in too soon on winter nights, yet Mrs. Moore at the end of our street, had mercy on me in our neighborhood living on Riverside Drive. I never will forget that she let me sleep all night in their home on a quilt laid out on the floor. I began to notice that food was scarce for her own children and there were no more beds but yet she loved me and let me sleep in her house on an old quilt in the living room. Although she didn't have money to feed us all, her plate was empty many nights as she said that her stomach was full and couldn't eat anymore and yet she fed me. At least for that single night and any night I needed, I knew that I would survive without sleeping on leaves in the winter. I learned then to thank God for anything and everything. My girlfriend, Debbie in third grade, begged me to run away from home and 'jump the train' to go anywhere but where we were. I told her 'no' although I wanted to be anywhere but Debbie jumped the local train in Kilgore, Texas and I never heard from her again.
In the late 90's while living in Nashville, I realized once more that I "fit in somewhere." I toured the Nashville's Hall of Fame on my day off from work one weekend.when all of a sudden, I saw an old restaurant napkin with words that meant something to me yet I realized it was penned by the country music legend Johnny Cash. He wrote a song on an old napkin probably at a tiny restaurant before he was "discovered." I knew right away that I found my home among millions of lyric and songwriters.
More than anything, I noticed lyrics were penned on scratches of old grocery store receipts, and scraps of any paper found in their car. As I read the words of many 'old timer' country songwriters, I knew right then that I found my home. I no longer felt like I lived on the street sleeping under a tree.
I knew my home was in the heart of every songwriter who felt love, pain, elation, and hope. My song featured this week called "Eye in a Hurricace" was penned before "Hurricane Katrina." Encouraged incessantly by my girl friend and next door neighbor, B.. J. Spivey, I will never forget her words when that hurricane almost destroyed New Orleans, Louisiana. We watched the national news as the horrible images came on our television screen. "Oh my God, this song Eye in a Hurricane is different from all the rest. You've got to share it now or so many will lose hope." I am even more convinced now as ever that you will find solitude, peace, and contentment no matter whatever battle you face. "Eye in a Hurricane" is a pop, or contemporary country song that I know in my heart will inspire you. Share it with all your friends and colleagues. If ever there was a time we need hope, it is now. www.cdbaby.com/cd/beverlybernson
A True Story
by Beverly Matthews Bernson
Part Two
Continued from Part One on the Home Page