by Fannie Flagg
THE SEVENTIES
A New Decade
IN 1970, after a long illness, the Smith family lost Mother Smith. That same year, Bobby and Lois had another boy. The world in general had changed very little except that a man had walked on the moon and everyone in Elmwood Springs was elated that America had done it first. Aunt Elner had been the only one over at Macky and Norma’s house that night at the moonwalk party who felt sad about it. When Linda asked her why she was not as excited as everybody else she said, “Oh, but I am. It’s just that I can’t help but feel sorry for that poor Neil Armstrong.”
“Why would you feel sorry for him, Aunt Elner?”
“Because, honey,” she said, “after you’ve been to the moon, where else is there to go?”
She had a point.
Linda Warren, Macky and Norma’s daughter, was a pretty girl with reddish-blond hair and although Norma had tried to be different, she wound up saying and doing all the annoying things to Linda that her mother had when she had been a teenager. Her favorite complaint, when Linda did not do what she wanted, was “You’re just like your daddy.” However, there was some truth to the statement. Linda, a real daddy’s girl, was much more like her father in likes and temperament. She loved baseball and fishing and was great at sports.
And despite all the nagging and pleading by Norma, she had refused to take the course in domestic science in school and much to her mother’s horror, had taken shop instead. Linda told her mother that she would much rather learn how to make a birdhouse than bake a cake and, as usual, Macky agreed with her. “I don’t know how you expect to raise a child and take care of a husband if you can’t even boil an egg or make a bed!” said Norma.
When Betty Raye had been elected for her second term as governor, the first thing she had done was to appoint Vita Green as the state’s first female lieutenant governor. So, unbeknownst to most people, Hamm’s wife and mistress wound up pretty much running the state. They had the help of Peter Wheeler and other smart people who were brought into the administration. Betty Raye also named her old friend the former short-order cook to an office she had created, as adviser to the governor on disabled veterans’ affairs. After the Trolley Car Diner closed, Jimmy moved to Jefferson City and did a good job helping her out with many things. Alberta Peets, what with the murder and all, could not serve officially but she did get an early pardon and stayed on as Betty Raye’s private secretary. Earl Finley said he would not live to see the end of the Hamm Sparks era and he was right. He had a stroke in 1969.
But Betty Raye was not the only Oatman doing well. In 1970, the State Department put together a goodwill tour featuring a tribute to American music and the Oatman Family Gospel Singers were chosen to represent southern gospel. They traveled to sixteen countries and had a wonderful time, especially the night of the performance in London at the Royal Albert Hall.
Minnie was so excited to meet the Queen Mother that after she did the curtsy they had taught her, which on a three-hundred-pound woman was more of a dip, she clapped her hands in delight at the very sight of her. “Well, if you are not just the cutest thing in your little crown. I know we are not supposed to touch you but I could just hug your neck.” The Queen Mother, fascinated with the large American woman in the red dress and rhinestone glasses with her hair piled up almost a foot high on her head, listened to her prattling on. “You know, you may not know it, but you and me has a lot in common. Your girl turned out to be a queen and mine is the governor of the state of Missouri. So we must have did something right, didn’t we, honey?”
“Indeed we did, Mrs. Oatman,” said the Queen Mother, smiling as she moved on to greet Rosemary Clooney.
As to the ongoing mystery of what had happened to Hamm Sparks, Jake Spurling had far from given up. He had worked long and hard for the past three years and in January 1970 there was finally a break in the case.
When Jake received the call about the abandoned hearse down in Louisiana he ordered it and the entire area cordoned off. Some kids who had been down at the river playing found it in the woods. It was rusty and the upholstery was ripped with age. He had his men go over it from top to bottom. The hearse, an older model, was traced back to the Cecil Figgs Mortuaries car lot in Kansas City, where all the older models were kept. A check on it revealed that a hearse had gone missing sometime after Hamm and the men had disappeared. The man in charge of the lot at the time was located and questioned about why he had not reported it. He said those old hearses were stolen all the time by kids wanting to joy-ride, so he’d figured that was what had happened. Jake flew in to Louisiana and walked around the area but there was nothing there except an old falling-down boat dock.
Jake was curious about who it belonged to and had it traced. His ears pricked up when the name was found. The registered owner of the land and the boat dock in 1967 was Mr. Buddy Leo, uncle of Mr. Anthony Leo of Kansas City, Missouri. A man with definite ties to organized crime. It might turn out to be nothing at all but it was too much of a coincidence, as far as Jake was concerned. The boat dock had not been too far from Hamm’s last known location in Jackson. Maybe he had come by boat. After a long search it was discovered that in May 1959, a brand-new thirty-five-foot Chris-Craft cabin cruiser had been purchased in Kansas City in the name of Mrs. Jeannie Micelli, sister of Mr. Anthony Leo. This might be the connection Jake was looking for. The abandoned hearse, the boat dock, and the missing men were all connected back to Kansas City.
Unfortunately, neither Mr. Leo was available for questioning. The uncle had died of old age and, as was often the case, Mr. Anthony Leo, although younger, was no longer alive and well. In 1968 he had accidentally stepped in front of five rapidly speeding bullets, which had proved to be fatal. When questioned, his sister, Mrs. Micelli, said she had never owned a boat. Which was probably true. These men were known to buy things they did not want traced by using other people’s names.
When Jake questioned Betty Raye, she told him she remembered that Hamm had mentioned a few times that Rodney had a friend with a boat that they sometimes borrowed.
“Is that so?” said Jake.
“Yes. I think he took the boys with him a few times.”
Hamm Jr. remembered it quite well.
Jake was pleased. Now we’re getting somewhere, he thought.
The next thing was to find out what had happened to the boat.
Tot’s Vacation
ON APRIL 21 Aunt Elner started the phone conversation, as she often did, without even saying hello first.
“Did you hear what happened to Poor Tot?”
Norma knew that whatever it was, it was not going to be good. “Don’t even tell me.”
Aunt Elner ignored her.
“You know, she’s been miserable with that broken finger and so as long as she couldn’t fix hair she let Dwayne Junior talk her into going to Florida with him and then that fish almost bit her right leg off—she’s in the hospital right now, poor thing, and she was not even fishing at the time. Said she was downstairs in the galley of the boat minding her own business, not bothering a soul, just trying to fix herself a grilled-cheese sandwich, when the fish got her.”
Norma sat down. “What fish?”
“I don’t know but it was mad at having been jerked out of the water, I can tell you that.”
“Who told you this?”
“Verbena, she just got off the phone with Tot this very second.”
Norma said, “Aunt Elner, I’ll call you right back,” and dialed Verbena’s number down at the cleaners to get the story firsthand. Verbena picked up: “Blue Ribbon.”
“It’s Norma.”
“I was just calling you but your line was busy.”
“Did you tell Aunt Elner that Tot was bitten by a fish?”
“No, I said she was stuck by a fish while making a grilled-cheese sandwich. I never said she was bitten.”
“Why would she get stuck by a fish if she was downstairs cooking?”
“Because the fish just came down the stair
s looking for her, I guess.”
“But why?”
“Because she has the worst luck of anybody I know, that’s why.”
“How did it happen?”
“She was down in Florida on this fishing boat that Dwayne Junior and a friend of his had rented to try and cheer her up. That’s what he said but he just wanted to go himself, if you ask me. Anyhow, after three hours of sitting upstairs in the hot sun, not catching a thing, she said, ‘I’m hungry, I’m going down and fix myself a grilled-cheese sandwich. Does anybody else want one?’ They said no and the next thing she knew, just as she was getting ready to flip her sandwich, this big fish came flying down the stairs. Dwayne had jerked it out of the water too hard and it flew right over his head and when it hit the deck it took a flying leap and came sailing down the stairs and stabbed Poor Tot in the thigh with its nose.”
“Oh my God, it must have scared her to death.”
“She said it was certainly a surprise to look down and see a strange fish sticking out of her leg. The captain packed her leg in ice and took her all the way to Pensacola to get the thing removed. She said she felt like a fool checking in with a fish sticking out of her leg but the captain said that they didn’t dare pull it out on their own. It could cause too much damage.”
“Damage to who?”
“The fish, I guess—Dwayne Junior is having it mounted as a souvenir of their trip.”
“What kind of fish was it?”
Norma could hear Verbena shuffling papers. “I wrote it down. Here it is. It was identified as a needle-nosed houndfish. They took her picture for the paper.”
“Is she all right?”
“Oh yes. Besides having six stitches and having to get shots.”
“Can’t she sue somebody?”
“Norma, who’s she going to sue? She said the fishing-boat people won’t cover it. They said it was an act of God. . . . So who can she sue, the Gulf of Mexico? Or the fish? No, she just got stuck in more ways than one, so she’s coming home tomorrow. She didn’t have but one day of vacation. If she was miserable when she left, you can imagine how she must feel now.”
“Poor Tot.”
The next day the citizens of Pensacola saw a picture of a Mrs. Whooten being wheeled into the emergency room under a caption that read WOMAN SPEARED BY FLYING FISH. People in Elmwood Springs tried not to bring it up but when they did, all Tot would say was “It’s put me off tuna fish, I can tell you that.”
To the Public at Large:
My recent experience has taught me an expensive lesson and I am passing it on as a warning. Do not ever call an ambulance if you can help it. Believe me, I could have gone to Europe twice for the money it cost me to ride no more than six blocks in one (it would have to be rush hour) but they did not take that fact into account. They were as nice as they could be and I was nice back, but at the time I didn’t know I was being charged a small fortune, which I am still paying on, and now my insurance has gone sky-high as well. I only had a leg injury but they made me wear a collar on my neck and on the way to the hospital they gave me oxygen in my nose (that I did not need) and kept taking my blood pressure and temperature every two minutes. Not only that, they were training the boy that was taking it how to do it and I did not even get a discount. But that was not the worst of it. Once they get you to the emergency room, look out. Those emergency room doctors are expensive and they charge you by the second. I was X-rayed and CAT-scanned from stem to stern, pulled from one place to another the whole time almost freezing to death. They keep it as cold as ice in there. In my case I was sent to surgery to have the fish removed (you don’t want to know what that set me back) and I was given a local anesthetic, so I was not able to walk out and they got to keep me overnight. If I were to tell you what they charged me for just the use of the bed, a couple of aspirins, and a tranquilizer, it would scare you to death. Don’t be lulled into thinking that your insurance covers everything. It doesn’t. My advice is this: if you can possibly walk, drive, call a cab, or take a bus to the emergency room, do it. Do not call 911 unless you are out cold.
A concerned citizen
Mrs. Tot Whooten
P.S. Watch out for flying fish.
Mother’s Day
In the spring of 1970, among the radio shows that featured mostly teenage music, right after Tops in Pops, The Neighbor Dorothy Show could still be heard over station WDOT.
Except for the fact that Mother Smith was gone and Dorothy was almost all gray now, the show remained the same. Her voice was still as warm and friendly, a welcome relief from the blaring rock and roll that played the rest of the day and night.
“Good morning, everybody,” said Neighbor Dorothy. “I don’t know what’s happening where you are but it seems everybody here has come down with a full-blown case of old-fashioned spring fever. And I can’t blame them—this is such a pretty, warm April and I hope it is the same where you are. I’ve never seen so many jonquils popping up everywhere. And pretty soon Mother’s Day will be upon us and if you’re wondering what to get Mother this year, think about giving her a gift that sings. A canary of her very own for the parlor or kitchen, to start her day on a cheery note. I can recommend that from experience. I can’t tell you how much joy my two precious birds, Dumpling and Moe, gave me over the years. Or if she already has a canary, you might think about getting her Rittenhouse door chimes and remember, Rittenhouse door chimes are always pleasant to the ear and a lovely way to say that company is at your door. And let’s see what else . . . we received another postcard from our tin-can tourists . . . the Goodnight sisters . . . and I wish you could see this one. They are both sitting on ostriches. It comes from the Corn Blough Ostrich farm in Kalamazoo—I tell you, those girls have no fear.
“. . . If any of you folks are traveling in or around Lebanon, Missouri, and need a place to stay, don’t forget Nelson’s Dream Village Motor Court. . . . Stop in and see and hear the electrical and musical fountain. Spend a cool night in the Ozark Mountains on U.S. Highway Number 66 . . . the gateway to the South and the West. . . . Nelson’s Dream Village—strictly modern, fireproof, individual bungalows where children stay free.
“And speaking of children. I got the sweetest letter from Bobby and Lois and I am happy to report that grandson Michael is now an Eagle Scout. I would have given anything to be there to see it. It’s so hard to realize that both my children live so far away and no matter how old they get they are still our babies, aren’t they? When I see Bobby now I can hardly believe that he runs such a big company. I know he is a grown man with children of his own but to me he’s still my little Bobby and she is still my little girl Anna Lee, who, hold on to your hat, called me last night and reported that she might be getting ready to be a grandmother herself and make Doc and I great-grandparents.” Dorothy laughed. “I told Doc I hope it happens because it will be the first time I’ve ever been great at anything.
“Later on in the program we will be having a talk from Gertrude Hazelette entitled ‘The Superior Way to Crack Hickory Nuts’ . . . but first let me ask you this: Are there any more pack rats out there besides me? Every year when I do my spring cleaning I go up in the attic, determined to clean it out and throw out all that old stuff that does nothing but sit up there and collect dust and every time . . . I always wind up not throwing a thing away. . . . I sit there and so many pleasant memories come back with each and every thing I pick up. I know I should give all of it away, but I just don’t have the heart. . . . Oh well . . . maybe next year . . .”
Empty Nest
NORMA WARREN was getting ready to have her daughter leave home for the first time and she was not at all happy about it. When their daughter, Linda, graduated from high school, she immediately went to work for AT&T. On career day the representatives had come to school trying to recruit women, in particular, for management training. They needed a quota of women now that the federal and the state governments were paying attention. Aunt Elner’s niece by marriage, Mary Grace, had a good job at the telephon
e company in St. Louis and put in a good word for her. When Linda was chosen, Norma was disappointed. “I wish you’d think about going to college for at least two years, if nothing else. I wish I hadn’t gotten married so young. I wish I had gone to college.”
“I know, Mother, but think about the great opportunity this is. I’m going to be trained for a top job. Why waste four years in college when I can already be working and making good money?”
“But, honey, think of the fun you’ll miss—the sororities, the dating, living in the dorm with all the other girls.”
“People don’t do all that anymore and I can have just as much fun making money. If you weigh all the options, Mother, it’s really the most logical and practical thing to do.”
“You’re too young to be logical and practical. You must get that from your daddy. I was never practical or logical. Maybe I should have been more like you. I just got married and didn’t learn a thing. If something happens to your daddy, I’ll probably wind up as someone’s maid or cook—that’s all I know how to do. I don’t have any skills but cooking and cleaning.”
“Oh, Mother, you do too. Real cooking is a skill.”
“No, it’s not,” Norma said. “Any old person can cook.”
“I can’t,” said Linda.
“You never really tried. You know your daddy is going to be very upset that you’re not going to college.”