The content on this site is posted by the son in law of Kathleen Byers-Lindsey. This is being done, in part, because of the kindness shown us beginning just before and the subsequent to Kathleen's death on Feb 11, 2012.
The first image is Kathleen Lucille Byers at about age 2, in 1918. Her mother was Nell Byers (formerly Nell Hill) and her father was Arthur Byers. The picture was probably taken in Augusta, GA.
The second image is Kathleen when she was about 16, about 1932. The third (the small one following that) is of her mother Nell, taken about the same time, probably in Augusta, GA
The fourth image shows Kathleen studying in a science lab. Presumably this would be when she was about 20 in about 1936. It was probably taken in Athens, GA at the University of GA.
The fifth image is Kathleen (now Kathleen Byers Lindsey) holding Patricia Ann (who later went by just Ann), in 1949. This would be in Atlanta.
The sixth image is Kathleen holding Beth (Ann's daughter) in 1979, in Virginia.
The seventh image is Kathleen with William John (aka Jay) her husband in about 1982.
The eighth image is Kathleen with her red convertible. She bought it
about 1998 and had it until about 2007.
The ninth image is, from left to right, Ann, Kathleen, John (her son who died in 2008) and Martin (who is writing this). This image is from Kathleen's 90th birthday party in October 2006. She had a much bigger party in October 2004. It was also a retirement party as she left a part time job with the State of GA that month also.
The tenth image is Kathleen at a dinner at the Lenbrook. This would probably be in 2010.
Below are remarks made by Katie Smith in July 2012,
".I have so many wonderful memories
of Nellie B and Bath Lake. It seems like we drove over to see them
nearly every Sunday. Mama told me we spent a summer there the year after
Mary Sue was born and she would throw her bottles out of the crib to break on
the concrete floor before they could get there to stop her! What a
game! We also enjoyed the mtns with the "shack" right next door.
One summer after I graduated from college Nellie B took you and me to the Isle
of Palms because it rained so much in the mtns we got sick of it! We
stayed at Mrs. Watkins which is still there only it is an office building
now. No air conditioning, and very saggy mattresses of old cotton tufted
that were hard to be comfortable on. She was quite a sport and
absolutely adored you. Didn't mean to get off on such a rant but you
really brought back such a flood of happy memories. Wish I had a picture
of John in his pink slacks he wore when he brought your Mama down here to
visit Susie for their birthdays. She was so tickled and just loved
it. Kathleen was always such a lady and looked beautiful always.
As Bob Hope said, "Thanks for the
memories""
We continue to get more images sent us. This one (Katie Smith, formerly Katie Hill, sent it) was from November 1985. Kathleen (at the right of the image) was at the Piedmont Driving Club at the Harvest Ball for the
Atlanta Debutante Club.
Kathleen was a guest. Susan (then Smith)'s date was John Parker (left most person in the image) from the Citadel. As of 2013 (26 years later), Mr. Parker was a Marine Col. about ready to retire.
Kathleen Lindsey-Byers by Rev Jim Bell, Minister of Music at Peachtree Christian Church Feb 17, 2012
Remembrances of Kathleen
On behalf of Kathleen’s daughter, Ann and her son-in law, Martin Weiss and her grandchildren George and Beth, I would like to thank you for attending today’s service.Dr. Kathleen Byers Lindsey was three things to me; she was my surrogate mother, my borrowed grandmother and my Auntie Mame. I first met Kathleen 25 years ago when I walked into the choir room at Peachtree Christian Church. Kathleen was a member of our Sanctuary Choir; she sang in the soprano section. Kathleen was not a loud dramatic soprano who constantly needed to be stifled, on the contrary, Kathleen was a quiet and retiring presence in our choir. In fact, I barely heard a note out of her the whole time she sang in the choir. She was a good musician though and later I learned that she had initially set her sights on majoring in music.Over the years Kathleen became an extended part of the Bell family. She was always there for Martha and me and our children. When Beth and George were children and came to visit Kathleen and her husband, Jay, Kathleen would often invite my children, Elisabeth and Jamie, who were roughly the same age as Beth and George, to tag along. Beth and George, your grandmother loved you so much and was so very proud of you and your accomplishments. When you grew into adulthood and visited her, we would often go to the Broadway Café on Briarcliff Road and enjoy their Kosher food. We always enjoyed our times together at the Broadway. Beth, I know you cherish the trip you took with your grandmother to the Holy Land. I think that trip made a great impression on you and perhaps influenced your decision to move to Israel. Several years ago, I had the good fortune to travel to the Holy land and while in Jerusalem, Beth was able to join us for dinner one evening. Kathleen was so proud George and his law school experience. George was able to pass the bar on his very first attempt, quite an accomplishment. The last time George was in Atlanta, we went by to pick up Kathleen at Mario’s Beauty Salon on Briarcliff. Tony, Kathleen’s hair dresser for decades, had been in treatment for cancer and had just returned to work. George was so thoughtful to go into the beauty parlor to greet Tony. I’m sure Kathleen insisted though.Kathleen had a very active mind, was interested in many things and especially loved dancing, travel, reading and collecting exotic friends. Dr. Lindsey was a member of the Atlanta Writer’s Club and the DAR. Once I attended a meeting of the Atlanta Writer’s Club with Kathleen, she was an officer. At the meeting which was at the Wimbish House, there were gentlemen who wore monocles and ladies who smoked little cigars in long cigarettes holders. It made quite an impression on me. It was at the DAR that Kathleen met Frances Martin, a Wagnerian soprano who sang at the Bayreuth Festival in German. Frances was a legendary beauty in her day and she was courted by the Wagner heirs and sang with the likes of James King and Birgit Nielsen. I remember the time when Kathleen scheduled a luncheon for the three of us. I was summoned to appear at Kathleen’s house at 10:00 in the morning at which time we were served Bloody Marys. After an hour of Bloody Marys and conversation, we piled into Frances’ 1950 something Chrysler and drove the Swan Coach House for lunch. It was like a scene out of “Driving Miss Daisy” . After retiring from Piedmont Hospital and moving to Lenbrook, Kathleen got bored and renewed her medical license at the age of 86. Can you imagine renewing your medical license at 86 years of age. She then took a part-time job reviewing Medicare claims. It was there that she met and became friends with Martha Mitchell, her retirement buddy. Several years ago, Kathleen attended a retired Physician’s reception at the Academy of Medicine. She came back and reported that it was sort of depressing because some of the Doctors were on walkers and others were in wheel chairs. I reminded her that she had arrived, glamorously attired, and driving a red convertible [note by MHW: the images above show Kathleen at about 86 with her red convertible and the driver's license she renewed at age 90] . Special mention should be made of Kathleen’s lifetime neighbors on Wimbledon, Bobby and Susan and their lovely mother, Dorothy. They were such loving and supportive neighbors. After moving from her home, Lenbrook became a vital part of Kathleen’s life. Kathleen lived at Lenbrook for 11 years and those were some of the best years of her life. When she first moved to Lenbrook, there were two other ladies who arrived at the very same time, Marie Lanham and Ellen Ritz. Kathleen, Marie and Ellen became fast friends and lived life to the fullest. They would pile into the red convertible and off they would go. They often came to the church for our Senior Adult events and for our worship services. Marie and Ellen died some time ago but their families have remained loyal and faithful friends to Kathleen. I want to express my sincere thanks to Bill and Jackye Lanham, Gayle and Frank Mitchell and Stephanie and Bill Reeves who always remembered Kathleen during the holidays and at other times as well.Kathleen loved the Halloween Costume Party at Lenbrook and was overjoyed the year she won wearing her shinny green wig. This year Kathleen wanted to go as Lady GaGa. I did not know who Lady GaGa was but Kathleen did and she coached me on what props I would need to gather for her. Several years ago Peachtree members, Estelle Wisdom and Elizabeth Holcombe moved to Lenbrook and they became Kathleen’s special Lenbrook friends. Special mention should be made of Kathleen’s other life-long church friends, to include Frances Carlton, Kathleen Mainland and Ida McKnight. I would also like to thank Eric Duke, Lenbrook’s Activities Director, for putting up with Kathleen and all her requests and suggestions. Kathleen was a typical stage mother and she was always promoting my wife, Martha and me to sing programs at Lenbrook. She could be a tough customer and a hard sell. Thanks Eric for always entertaining Kathleen’s requests and acquiescing to her demands whenever possible. Again, I wish to thank Lenbrook and her residents for providing a beautiful and safe home for Kathleen. Her time there was filled with many activities, many friends and much joy.
Jim Bell also led the choir during the memorial service.
Music during the service included Beethoven's Hymn to Joy (sung by whole congregation), the Lord's Prayer (Malotte arrangement sung by the Choir), Psalm 23 (sung by whole congregation) and The Lord Bless You and Keep You (John Rutter arrangement sung by the Choir).
Scriptural readings were Isaiah 40:28-31, John 14:1-6; Revelations 21: 1-4, Proverbs 31 (abridged- aka the 'woman of valor', Aches Hayil) and Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 ('there is a season...)
Jim Bell not only led the choir and gave the remarks. He also loaned us a car for us to use subsequent to Kathleen's death (so we could drive to the memorial service, etc.).
Below is what we sent to the Atlanta Journal Constitution. We also sent a shorter version of this and that is what they published as an obit. However, the longer version was in the program given out at the Memorial Service. The image of the version in the memorial service and also the program is on a separate Post.
Kathleen Byers-Lindsey, M.D., 95, Atlanta’s First Female Board Certified Anesthesiologist Dr. Kathleen Byers-Lindsey, 95, died peacefully on Saturday, Feb. 11th surrounded by family. Dr Byers was honored in late 2011 at a reception for Medical College of Georgia alumni in Atlanta. At the time of her being honored in 2011, she said, “I don’t know if pioneer is the word or not. The time had a lot to do with it…I’m just happy to have done something that I enjoyed doing for so long.” It was only the latest recognition for a lifetime of service for this modest pioneer in medicine.The daughter of telegraphers with Southern Railway Co., Kathleen chose to go to medical school at the Medical College of Georgia and graduated in 1943, one of only three women in that class. The country was at war and new doctors had their pick of where to go. Kathleen chose to go to New York City to do an internship at Flower and Fifth Avenue Hospital. During her internship, she became interested in anesthesiology. She completed a residency in that specialty at the Bellevue Hospital, studying with Dr. Emery Rovenstine, founder of the American Society of Anesthesiologists, who also taught her colleague, Dr. Perry Volpitto, who was the first Chairman of Anesthesiology at the Medical College of Georgia, the first academic anesthesiology department in the South.She practiced briefly at the Baptist Hospital in New Orleans and then returned to Atlanta in1947 to work as a staff anesthesiologist at Piedmont Hospital. She became board certified in Anesthesiology in March of 1952, one of the first female board certified anesthesiologists in the U.S. and the first in Atlanta, Ga.Later in her career, Dr. Byers-Lindsey worked as a rating board physician for the U.S. Veteran’s Administration and later as a part time reviewer for the Georgia Department of Human Services. She retired from the latter position in October 2004 at the age of 88.From 2001 until the time of her death, she resided at The Lenbrook, a retirement community in Buckhead. She married the late William John Lindsey, a pharmacist, in 1948. She was the mother of two children, Patricia Ann Weiss, and the late John Byers Lindsey. She is survived by Patricia Ann, who lives in Potomac, Maryland, with her husband, Martin Weiss, and two grandchildren, Tamara Elizabeth Weiss of Ramat Gan, Israel and George Arthur Weiss of Potomac.
We've been packing Kathleen's possessions for pick up by charity or giving it away to Lenbrook staff or taking home.Today, one of Kathleen's neighbors (Mary White) spent about 4 hours helping Ann do this. After this, Mary helped Ann about 8 more hours. As noted Richard Prince helped us by taking the telegraph hardware (this even though we had inadvertently discarded some things he had lent to Kathleen). Mrs. Fisher gave us some packing tape and the staff helped with everything they could (e.g., Dave in food services made sure we had plenty of boxes).
About two or three dozen people have expressed their affection for Kathleen to us. The images are the street level entrance to Lenbrook (top) and a view from the top floor of the Lennox residential tower (bottom) where Buckhead high rises are in the foreground and Atlanta midtown high rises are in the background (on the left).
Thursday, February 09, 2012 Sir, You dropped the good Stuff
I (Martin Weiss) went shopping at Kroger today. It is only a few blocks from the Lenbrook where Ann and I are staying while Ann's mom adjusts to being in the health care unit there (she had been in the independent unit).
I took a Lenbrook shopping cart to the store, filled it up and was taking it back. I had a 12 pack of MGD 64 in the bottom shelf of the cart. The top part of the cart was also pretty full.
Evidently, as I went over a bump in the sidewalk, the beer slid out and I didn't notice.
A guy (an employee of Lenbrook as it happened) was walking behind me. He pickup up the 12 pack and brought it to me and said, "Sir, you dropped the good stuff." (or something close to that).
That is pretty much the template at Lenbrook. Everybody wants to help everybody else: staff, residents, visitors.
Tuesday, February 07, 2012 KBL visits Beth's Apartment in Ramat Gan
Well it was by IPAD and Skype. The IPAD and Skype assistance was provided by Jamie Bell whose parents are good friends of KBL. KBL was in Piedmont hospital after having a heart attack. Jamie had asked us to let him know if there was anything he could do for us and voila. We asked. Ten points for Jamieclaw (or possibly Hufflejamie).
M's note: I found this on the computer in the business center at the Lenbrook. Kathleen had begun an autobiography, partly at the urging of Richard Prince (who lived on her floor in the Brookhaven Tower - the date/time of the post is guesswork for when it was composed). Ultimately, Kathleen dictated it and Martha Bell (of Peachtree Christian) typed it up (I'm not sure how it ended up on the business center computer hardrive but fortunately it did).
I have been encouraged to write about my early years of growing up with the telegraph keys, trains and railroads. I don’t suppose there are too many of us left to tell the story.
Both of my parents were telegraphers and station agents for the Southern Railroad, now Norfolk Southern. Dad taught mother telegraphy during World War II when there was a shortage of men and a great need from the troop trains were running and there were important acts of war.
Mother was quite young—still in her teens and I was a baby at the time. The next door neighbor kept me while Mother worked. Dad was self-taught by hanging around the railroad station at a small town where his brothers, my Uncle Paytaw lived. The railroad agent in the small town chose him.
Dad had left the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina, near Hendersonville, for the flat lands of Estell, South Carolina. He had grown up on a beautiful farm with a large family—four brothers and four sisters. Telegraphy was in its hay day at the time. It seemed to appeal to him as a career. He had just been out of the Army and had been dismissed during peace times. He was successful in getting a job, or jobs, and worked for the Southern for some forty years.
So I grew up in this fascinating era of telegrams and train rides galore. Much of my childhood was spent the railroad office of my mother. After school, I would walk to the office to be with mother. The telegraph wires would be clicking—clickity click.
There was several keys and sounders in the operation where the dots and dashes of the morse code would be sending messages from all over. I learned the morse code at an early age. It was like a game to me like learning your ABC’s. As a child, I talked with my Dad on the keys, with mother’s help, and this is a memorable experience. I had the strangest feeling at this moment of time.
Telegraphs were going hither and yond on the clicking keys with a symphony of different tones and pitches, some slow and some very fast. The operator had to keep an ear on alert for a special que in order to answer his or her call. Actually, the office became quite noisy at times to the extent that the sounds would bother me and mother had a way of quieting things down. One way was to stick a pencil in a certain part of the sounder. Another was to have a tobacco can placed on the sounder—I think to make louder or resonate softer.
I still have a telegraph key and sounder that was used by my parents. I also have an instrument that was called a “bug” that was used for fast sending of messages. So called, because the instrument message was so fast that it made a buzz similar to a bug. My Dad used it a lot. He was a faster sender than my mother, although she was very good. Dad had more experience. These instruments are in my possession and are for sale.
My mother had a good thought to keep them. She had key placed on a board for travel to Atlanta to the Morse Club Historical Society Annual Meeting which used to take place annually at the Atlanta Woman’s Club. The key was hooked up to a battery so that she could send a message to the main center celebration which I think was in Philadelphia. I was introduced as having cut my teeth on the telegraph key, which was so funny to me but almost true. I thoroughly enjoyed these meetings because the participants had so many interesting tales to tell as we went around the tables. I wished I had recorded them in some way. Now they are all gone and the meetings no longer exist. It is sad to me that this great era is gone. I will attempt to describe in more detail some of the instruments that equipped the railroad office during the time my parents were telegraphers. I have a few pictures of the station—one especially of me and my mother standing at the entrance to the depot and showing a flower garden that she had planted to beautify the area—I was young, about 8 years old and I had a big bow in my hair (picture). This picture appeared in a journal called The Telegrapher (I think) that was published by the railroad and I did have a copy. I did have a copy, but this article has been lost. It was complimentary to my mother and so the good caretaking that she had with the depot in trying to keep the yard pretty with flowers. It was the responsibility of the agent to keep the depot clean and also the yards.
The office had the telegraph wires to the right of the door as you entered and then there was a big desk to the left of the door where mother’s big desk was. There was a big pot belly stove in the center of the room, a setee close by, and then on the opposite side of the room there were 2 big desks. One of them I claimed as mine and I had a typewriter and an ink well. It was the kind of pen that you dip in the ink and, of course, I enjoyed that. Also, indelible pencils which were purple and leave a little purple mark and I loved that color of the pencil. I had paper and pencil, and I probably used up a lot of Southern Railway papers and stationery and I would write letters to my cousin Mary which was fun. We would write each other back and forth.
The office opened into the freight room and inside the freight room was a blue jar which had a copper foot in the blue water and it had wires that were hooked up and that supplied the electricity for the sounder and keys. I will describe this more later in the story.
The office had large windows, kind of like a bay window, from the ceiling to the desk top so that mother could look up and down the railroad track and see the train coming. On the other side of the room was another large bay window from ceiling down to desk level. The Branch line had only one train that came daily, usually late in the afternoon, around 4:00 pm, and this was the big event of the day because it brought freight. It also picked up freight and it went up into the mill yard and across the highway—it was about half a mile up to the mill and dad had a station just about a mile away in a small town called Bath, South Carolina. He had a different type office—a busier office. It was on what’s called “the main line” and he did passenger service as well as freight and express and, of course, handled the mail from the post office there. Mother had the same thing, except for the passenger. There was no selling of tickets to ride the train.
Outside of the station was a big platform that went all around the right side, the back and the left side which was sort of the front of the depot and there were two doors at the opposite end of the place that had originally been for passengers, but apparently, they decided not to sell tickets at that station. One was labeled “white” above the door; and one was labeled “colored” above the door. But, an odd thing happened. It seemed that we didn’t have a place to live there for a while and we lived in the depot itself—somehow through special arrangements with the railroad and so those waiting rooms which were supposed to be seats for passengers were used as a “condo” for us to live in and they put running water in the kitchen which was one of the waiting rooms and that was our kitchen and dinette and the other passenger room was used for a bedroom. Our office was our sitting room. That was it! We lived there until Dad found a better living arrangement.
He had a garden across the railroad tracks which were close to the station and my Dad was a farmer at heart. Dad also had a cow and she had a stall at the far end of the station. It was just a little place he could stand and put a tin roof over it and we had some chickens—so we had eggs and actually I guess there was no store close by. We had our garden and our milk and eggs and that was the way it was.
I remember one time we had picked a lot of butter beans and spread them out on a sheet in the warehouse. We were selling butter beans and I was little. They had a big pile of beans in the middle of the sheet, and it was mother, me and my uncle and a few others shelling beans. It was tempting to me to play in those beans and so I did that. My uncle told me not to play in the beans, and I evidentally didn’t stop it. I got a spanking—the only real spanking I ever got—from my Uncle Herbert. That’s my butter bean story.
I used to play on the platform outside a lot and walk around the station. There were rain barrels on each corner and on the far end of the depot. They contained water with kerosene in them. It made a filmy top which was to keep the mosquitoes down. At the far end of the depot was an outhouse and we did have running water, but there was no bathtub or anything like that. I remember getting a bath in a galvanized metal tub and mother would heat water on the stove and that was the only way we had hot water. I think I got a bath in the tub once or twice a week.
We used a kerosene lamp and candles and I remember one lamp that we had was called a land lamp and it had a real white wick that made a real bright light and we loved that. I still have that lamp and had it converted to an electric lamp.
At night, instead of the outhouse, we used a chamber pot or sometimes called a slop jar with a lid on the top. Mother kept it smelling good with something like Creole in it—sort of like a disinfectant and it had a piney smell to it.
In the freight room, there were two long boards called “skids” and they were used when the train came and the box car door opened, those two skids would be put in the box car and that was the way to bring the freight up from the box card to the freight room. That was something interesting to watch when the train crew would come, it would be a happy time for me because the train crew all knew me and they, of course, would first play with me a little bit, and then they would get with mother about the work that was to be done. Sometimes they took me for a ride on the engine up into the mill yard and I got to sit way up high where the engineer sits. I could feel the heat from the firebox where they put the coal which was red hot. So much heat came out it almost scared you and it was at the same time a very exciting time for me and a little bit scary—the heat and seeing those red coals when they would put fresh coal in with a shovel to the coal. That’s what made the train go.
Another interesting part of the train to me was the caboose (that’s the last car on the train that has the little light hanging down from it). That was always the end of the train. At one time I would go in and see the caboose inside—that was where they kept their papers and important things in a little desk for a long desk. For a long time I had the little desk…it had little pigeonholes in it that they kept different pieces of their mail and papers.
The little town where mother had her station was called Clearwater and my father’s station was Bath, and so some of us said you go to Clearwater and take a Bath. Anyway, that was just a funny thing, but the little town itself was owned practically by the mill company—the manufacturing company that manufactured textiles. It was very small, just a couple hundred people maybe, and it had a church, I think it was a Methodist Church. Everybody went to the same church and I remember Mother used to play the piano some. She was taking music lessons on the side and there was a music teacher in that town. She was very good. She later moved to Aiken and I took music lessons from her for quite some time. I would ride up to Aiken on the streetcar.
Besides the church in Clearwater there was a company store. That was the only store in the town and I think they had a little bit of everything—kind of like a country store. There was a community center and there was a nice lady that ran that. She taught the girls courses like home ec. She taught us how to make simple things. You could go there to play games and they would have entertainment at times. The school that I first went to in the first grade, I remember, was very small—like a one room school house. They later built a nice grammar school there and I went through the 5th grade there. My 5th grade teacher was Mrs. Mimms and she seemed to take a liking to me and I made a scrapbook during the 5th grade. She gave me magazines and things that I cut out and pasted into an album and strangely enough, I found through a friend of mine, that they had placed that book in the education department there in Aiken which is the County seat and it was on display there. I had never known that and I was a little bit proud to know that happened. It was all about South Carolina.
After the 5th grade my Dad found a home in Bath where he worked, which was just a mile away, and we moved from the depot to Bath and I transferred to the public school there.
We moved into a much bigger house and it had running water. Dad had installed a pump and we had a Delco system, and we had a bathroom. I think by this time we had electricity. I was older and I went to the latter part of grammar school at Bath. After that, I went to a high school called Langley- Bath which was from two small towns—Langley (just beyond Bath) and they combined to have the school named Langley-Bath High School.
Telegraphy Instruments
(M's note; this was to be the next chapter. Kathleen had some actual telegraph instruments in her apartment. We gave these to Mr. Prince for him to donate to any institution that would like to display them.)
My early
years were spent growing up with the sounds of telegraph keys, trains
and railroads. I don’t believe
there are many of us left to tell the story.
My
parents were telegraphers and station agents for the Southern Railroad, now
Norfolk Southern. During World War I,
Dad taught mother telegraphy when there was a shortage of men and a great need. The troop trains were running, there were
important acts of war and lots of train movement.
Mother
was quite young—still in her teens. I
was a baby at the time. We lived in
Pelion, South Carolina, a very small town.
My Dad basically taught himself by hanging around the railroad agent in
the station in the town where his brother, my Uncle Plato, lived. The neighbor who lived next door kept me
while Mother worked.
Dad
left the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina, near Hendersonville, for the
flat lands of Estell, SC. He had grown
up on a beautiful farm with a large family—four brothers and four sisters. Telegraphy was in its peak. It appealed to him as a career. He had been in the Army and dismissed during
peacetime. He was successful in getting
jobs, and worked for the Southern Railroad system for some forty years. His first job was at Hambury, SC, a few miles
from Augusta, GA. Next was Clearwater,
SC were he met my mother. Later, her
first job was at Clearwater. By the
seniority rule, the person with the longest service could “pull: a job when a
new one came open.
We
were living at Pealion, SC—a very small town.
At the time, mother thought she ready for delivery, she rode the train
by herself to Augusta, Georgia to be at her parents home. They lived on Wrightsboro Road in Augusta. Mother wanted to have a specialist, a Dr.
Mulherin, because her first delivery had been difficult. My sister lived only a few weeks due to a
head injury. I was born in the front
bedroom of my grandparents home. Dad
came at my birth and he sent a telegram to all of the family members to
announce my birth. I have a picture of
them at the Grove Park Inn in North Carolina.
(PICTURE) They had met in
Clearwater at the depot and had married at St. James Methodist Church in
Augusta, Georgia in 1909. They spent
their honeymoon at the Grove Park Inn.
His
first job was at Hambury, SC, a few miles from Augusta, Georgia. Next was Clearwater, SC where he met my
mother. Later, her first job was at
Clearwater.
So
I grew up in this fascinating era of telegrams and train rides galore. Much of my childhood was spent in the
railroad office of my mother. After
school, I would walk to the office to be with mother. The telegraph wires would be going clickity
click, clickity click constantly.
Several keys
and sounders were in operation where the dots and dashes of the morse
code would be sending messages from all over. I learned the morse code at an early
age. It was like a game, like learning
ABC’s. As a child, I talked with my Dad
on the key, with mother’s help. This is
a memorable experience. I had the
strangest feeling at that moment. To
send a message the telegraph key had to be opened to the right; to end the
message the key was closed.
(PICTURE—KEY)
Telegrams were delivered immediately after being
sent, often a sign of death, especially in wartime. So many words at a rate (picture--telegram).
Telegrams
were going hither and yon on the clicking keys like a symphony of different
tones and pitches, some slow and some very fast. The operator had to keep an ear on alert for
a special “sign” in order to answer his or her “call”. Actually, the office became quite noisy at
times to the extent that the sounds would bother me. My mother had a way of quieting things
down. One way was to stick a pencil in a
certain part of the sounder. Another was
to have a red Prince Albert Tobacco can placed on the sounder—to make louder or
resonate softer.
I still
have a telegraph key and sounder that was used by my
parents. I also have an instrument
called a vibroplex that was called a “bug” used for fast sending
of messages. So called, because the
instrument message was so fast that it made a buzz similar to a lightening
bug. My Dad used it a lot. He was a faster sender than mother,
although she was very good. Dad had more
experience. These instruments are in my
possession and are for sale, also a railroad lantern that belonged to mother, a
required possession for emergency use only.
Torpedoes were kept. They made a
purple light meaning danger.
My mother was smart to keep them. She had a key placed on a board for travel to
Atlanta to the Morse Club Historical Society Annual meeting, which took place
annually at the Atlanta Woman’s Club. The
key was hooked to a battery so that she could send a message to the main
center celebration, which I think was being held in Philadelphia. I was introduced as having “cut my teeth” on
the telegraph key, which was so funny to me but almost true. I thoroughly enjoyed these meetings because
the participants had many interesting tales to tell as we went around the
tables. I wished I had recorded
them. Now they are all gone, the
meetings no longer exist. It is sad to
me that this great era is gone.
I will
attempt to describe in more detail some of the instruments that equipped
the railroad office during the time my parents were telegraphers. I have a few pictures of the station—one
especially of me and my mother standing at the entrance to the depot and
showing a flower garden that she had planted to beautify the area—I was young,
about 8 years old and I had a big bow in my hair (picture). This picture appeared in a journal called The
Telegrapher or Dots and Dashes, which was published by the
railroad. I did have a copy, but this
article has been lost. It was
complimentary to mother about the good caretaking she had with the depot in
trying to keep the yard pretty with flowers.
It was the responsibility of the agent to keep the depot clean and also
the yards.
The office had the telegraph keys to the right of
the door on entering, then there was Mother’s big desk to the left. A big pot belly stove stood in the center of
the room with a coal scuttle, a settee close by, and then on the opposite side
of the room there were 2 big desks. One
of them I claimed as mine. I had a typewriter,
an ink well, pens and pencils. It was
the kind of pen that you dip in the ink. I enjoyed that. (I called it inking.) Also, indelible pencils which were purple
and left a purple mark. I loved that
color. I probably used up a lot of
Southern Railway papers and stationery and I would write letters to my cousin
Mary, which was fun. She answered. She was Aunt Katie’s daughter who lived in
Hendersonville, NC.
The office
opened into the freight room and inside the freight room was a blue jar (Leyden)
which had a copper foot in the blue water.
It had wires that were hooked up to the key that supplied the
electricity for the sounder and keys.
Mother had an unusual copy machine with a wheel on top. She used melted sealing wax on important
letters with a heavy weight to stamp by hand.
I liked to watch her do these things.
The office
had large windows, like a bay window, from the ceiling to the desk top so that
mother could look up and down the railroad track to see the train coming. On the other side of the room was another
large window from ceiling down to desk level.
The Branch Line had only one train daily, usually late in the
afternoon, around 4:00 pm. This was the
big event of the day because it brought freight. It also picked up freight and it went up into
the mill yard across the highway—it was about half a mile up to the mill. Dad had a station about a mile away in a
small town called Bath, South Carolina.
He had a different type office—a busier office. It was on what’s called “the main line”
and he did passenger service as well as Western Union telegraph, freight
American Express and handled the U.S. Postal mail from the post office across
the street. Mother had the same thing,
except there was no selling of tickets to ride the train, nor did she handle
the postal mail.
Outside of
the station was a big platform that went all around the right side, the back
and the left side which was sort of the front of the depot and there were two
doors at the opposite end of the place that had originally been for passengers,
but apparently, they decided not to sell tickets at that station. One was labeled “white” above the door; and
one was labeled “colored”. Oddly we didn’t
have a place to live for a while so we lived in the depot—through special arrangements
with the railroad company. Those waiting
rooms that were supposed to be seats for passengers were used as an “apartment”
for us to live in. They put running
water in the kitchen, which was one of the waiting rooms, that was our kitchen
and dinette, the other passenger room was used for a bedroom. The office was also our sitting room. We lived there until Dad found a better
living arrangement. We had a wind up
phonograph in the freight room. My
parents like to dance.
He had a
garden across the railroad tracks, which were close to the station. Dad was a farmer at heart. He had a cow and she had a stall at the far
end of the station. It was just a little
place to stand with a tin roof. We had a
few chickens. We had Dad’s garden, milk,
eggs and chickens. There was only a
Company Store.
Now, a
butterbean story…we had picked a lot of butter beans and spread them
out on a sheet in the warehouse. We were
shelling butter beans. They had a big
pile of beans in the middle of a sheet, and it was mother, me and my Uncle
Herbert and a few others shelling beans.
It was tempting to play in those beans and so I did. My uncle told me not to play in the beans,
but I didn’t stop it. I got a
spanking—one good wallop on my bottom—
the only real spanking I ever
got—from my Uncle Herbert. I never
forgot it.
I used to
play on the platform outside a lot and walk around the station boxcars with
mother to check numbers. I liked to
climb up the ladder on the boxcars to the top.
There were
rain barrels on each corner of the platform and on the far end of the
depot. They contained water with
kerosene in them. It made a filmy top
which was to kill the mosquitoes. At the
far end of the depot was a two-hole outhouse.
We did have running water, but there was no bathtub. I remember getting a bath in a galvanized
metal tub. Mother would heat water in
the kettle on the stove. That was the
only way we had hot water.
We used
kerosene lamps. I remember one lamp we
had was called an Alladin lamp and it had a real white wick that made a bright
light. I still have that lamp and had it
converted to an electric lamp.
At night,
instead of the outhouse, we used a chamber pot, sometimes called a slop jar
with a lid on the top. Mother kept it
smelling good with something like Creolin, a disinfectant that had a piney
smell.
In the
freight room, there were two long boards called “skids”. They were used when the train came, the
boxcar door opened, those two skids would be put in the box car and that was
the way to unload the freight from the box car to the freight room. That was something interesting to watch.
When the train crew would come, it
would be a happy time for me because the train crew all knew me and they would
first play with me a little bit, and then they would get with mother about the
work that was to be done. Once they took
me for a ride on the engine up into the mill yard. I got to sit up high near the engineer. I could feel the heat from the red hot
firebox where they put the coal. So much
heat came out it was scary seeing those red coals when they would put fresh
coal in with a coal shovel. That made
the steam train go.
Another
interesting part of the train was the caboose (that’s the last car on
the train that has the red light hanging down from it). That was always the end of the train. One time I went to see the caboose
inside—that was where they kept their papers and important things in a little
desk with pigeonholes.
The little
town where mother had her station was called Clearwater and my father’s station
was Bath, and so some of us said “you go to Clearwater and take a Bath”. Anyway, that was just a funny thing, but the
little town itself was owned by the mill company—the company that manufactured
cotton textiles. It was very small, just
a couple hundred people maybe, and it had a church. Everybody went to the same church and I
remember Mother used to play the piano and sometimes taught Sunday School. She was taking music lessons and there was a
music teacher in town. She was very
good. She later moved to Aiken, I took
music lessons from her for quite some time.
I would ride up to Aiken on the streetcar. The streetcar ran from Augusta to Aiken, and
was later replaced by a bus or taxi.
Besides the church in Clearwater there was a
company store. That was the only store
in the town. I think they had a little
bit of everything—kind of like a country store.
There was a community center that was run by a nice lady. She taught the girls courses like home
economics. She taught us how to make
simple things like pimento cheese and hot chocolate. You could go there to play games and they
would have entertainment like Maypole dancing on May Day.
The school
that I first went to in the first grade, was very small—like a one room
schoolhouse. Later a nice grammar school
was built and I went there through the 5th grade there. My 5th grade teacher was Mrs.
Mimms and she seemed to like me. I made
a scrapbook during the 5th grade.
She gave me magazines and things that I cut out and pasted into an album
and strangely enough, I found through a friend of mine, that they had placed
that book in the Education Department in Aiken which is the County seat. It was on display there. I had never known that and I was a little bit
proud to know that. It was all about
South Carolina.
I wish she
had taught me more 5th grade arithmetic. When I got to medical school, some of us had
to repeat our 5th grade math (fractions) in a chemistry class.
After the 5th
grade Dad found a home in Bath where he worked, which was just a mile away, and
we moved from the depot to Bath and I transferred to the public school
there. Dad invested in real estate that
extended to frontage on Bath Lake where we had swimming and boating.
We moved
into a much bigger house with running water.
Dad installed a Delco pump well system, and we had a chain flush bathroom
with lavatories in each bedroom. I was
older, I went to the latter part of grammar school at Bath (9th
grade). After that, I went to a high
school that was from two small towns—Langley (just beyond Bath) combined to
have the school named Langley-Bath High School.
(picture)
The school
was within walking distance of our home.
It was a large stucco building, all on one floor, with a big
auditorium. I spent four years there and
continued with piano lessons. I took
Algebra, English, French, Home Economics, Science, and typing. My typing teacher later married my Uncle
Herbert—they met at our home. For a
while, we rented rooms to teachers. The
school had football; I took basketball and tennis. There were no guns, knives or drugs in school
like now. School was good. We did a play coached by the English
teacher. My good friend Carolyn Grice
had the lead role. I played the black
maid—they blacked my face and put a pillow over my stomach to make me fat. My often repeated line was “I ain’t saying
nothing”, the audience laughed at me a lot—I was a sight.
Carolyn
and I liked to swim in the lake. We
would follow each other with the boat to see how far we could swim. We did some diving. Dad had a motorboat, not outboard, the kind
you hook on the end of the boat. On
Sundays, he would take us for a ride. It
was fun. (picture) We played tennis after school in the
afternoon.
TELEGRAPHY INSTRUMENTS will be added by david as a foot
note or appendix!
Indoor
plumbing was a luxury. We had 3
bedrooms, kitchen, dining room, living room, and a screened porch. It was a big house located near the high
school so that I had a short walk to school on a dirt road. The “big house” faced the Augusta-Aiken
Highway.
Bath
had a railroad station in the center of town and across the tracks was a
Company store with a post office inside, a church close by, large brick mill, a
drug store which was privately owned, and a theater that showed silent films
with piano playing.
TRAVEL
STORY TO BE INSERTED SOMEWHERE…(typed September 6, 2010)
When I was
about 11 years of age, my parents decided that we would take a long trip to
Spokane, Washington to visit my Uncle Grover who was the one brother who said
he wanted to get as far away from home as possible. He didn’t return to visit the family, so Dad
decided we should visit him by train.
This would be the longest train trip for us ever. Since we al used railroad passes, it would help
on the expenses. We were all excited
about using the dining car and the Pullman.
It took us about 5 days to travel from Augusta to Spokane across the
whole wide west. It was such a treat to
use the sleeping car and to watch the porter make up our beds at night. Sometimes in the day, we could move into the
day car or the observation car. The
scenery was beautiful as we passed through the Rocky Mountains and some of the
national parks. When we stopped at
Glacier National Park depot, I remember looking out the window and there was a
big tall Indian standing there. He had
eon the brightest feathered outfit I had ever seen--to behold, almost
unreal. I don’t know if he worked for
the railroad or if he was traveling.
After
we left Chicago, we were on a new railroad line called the Burlington
Northern. It was such a smooth ride that
even a child could tell the difference.
From there on no more jerking and squealing on the tracks. I learned that the western trains were the
best. And the mountains were different
from the ones in North Carolina that I was familiar with—more ro0cks and crags
and fewer trees—a different kind of beauty.
When
we got to Spokane we were met by my Uncle Grover and Aunt Viola. I had not met them before. Uncle Grover was an engineer with a Northern
line. They had no children so I didn’t
have anyone to play with but we kept on the go sightseeing. There were beautiful gardens that we visited,
beautiful flowers and trees. I learned a
new tree called the monkey tree. The
redwoods were beautiful. After a few
days in Spokane, the three of us traveled to Seattle by train with the plan to
go by boat to Vancouver. Again we got a
discount on the fare by being railroad people.
The steamship boat that we had was named Princess Kathleen. I got a thrill out of that and pretended it
was named for me. This was indeed
exciting. There was a grand piano in the
lobby of the ship. I played a song
called Ramona. I was a bit timid,
but something made me want to play on that big piano. There was some motion on the water, but I
don’t remember getting sick. We did
sight seeing in Vancouver and again, beautiful gardens. Totem poles abounded. It seemed like a different world to me—I felt
like my horizons had been expanded by that trip. The most extensive trip we had ever
done…before it had been short distances like to visit grandpa in
Hendersonville, NC or to the beach.
THE ELI LILY PHARMACEUTICAL COMPANY STORY
When
I married my husband, he was going to the Southern School of Pharmacy on the
G/I bill—it was his junior year. He was
recently back from 4 years of European duty in the U.S. Army Air Force, night
fighter squadron. In his senior year,
his class traveled to Indianapolis to tour the headquarters of the Eli Lily
Company. The wives were invited. It was a bargain trip, thanks to help from
Eli Lily and a very enjoyable trip to see how so many pills are made and
prepared for distribution. Little did we
know at that time that his first job after graduation in June 1952 would be as
a Sales Representative for the Company.
This was memorable because our son John was born on June 6, and while I
was in the hospital, I received a letter stating that I had passed the
examination that made me Board Certified by The American Board of Anesthesiology. This was my final big exam.
My
husband Jay went to work for Lily. All
employees were required to buy stock in the company which was a good
thing. So this was the beginning of our
stock portfolio which slowly grew to about 500 shares. My husband left the company after a short
time because it required traveling through much of the State and being away at
nights sometimes. So he went into retail
store pharmacy. I was doing
Anesthesiology at Piedmont Hospital at the time, which required me being ON
CALL every other night and every other weekend.
Jay was needed at home. We
continued to invest a small amount in the stock. As the years went by and our son, my second
child grew up, I decided with the two of us, to give the stock to John as a
gift. I think it was Christmas in the
1980’s. I remember trying to decide on
half of the shares or all. I decided to
give John all 500 since we had a modest portfolio of our own. We wanted to encourage John to invest some in
the stock market. During the years
following, the stock split four times over a span of many years so that John
had 2,000 shares—not bad for a good dividend stock.
The
sad part of the story is that John died April 29, 2008 of Coronary
Atherosclerotic Heart disease at home by himself. He also had vascular dementia. He had been a heavy smoker for many
years—since high school at North Fulton.
He had not been diagnosed for the heart and was being treated as heartburn. He kept this from me. He had actually retired on disability from
the Atlanta Journal Newspaper as Sales Manager for over 25 yrs. He told me he was offered regular
retirement. He kept a lot from me. We lived together for many years. He was age 55 at his passing—much too
young. He had made a Will leaving me
with living rights to the house, but the house and property go to my
grandchildren from Uncle John. Of
course, I was supposed to die first, so we never know. I was living at Lenbrook at the time and for
8 years in my 90’s because of his dementia he had not handled his finances well
and had a lot of credit card debt, a loan on the house, and just a complicated
mess of bills. I am co-executrix with my
son-in-law who is handling the estate.
The house I had deeded to John is now up for sale in this slow economic
downturn. Beth and George received the
assets associated with his work--the 401K, IRA and so forth, for which I was
glad because they are young with a long life ahead. This will make them feel more secure to have
been so fortunate. Because of the ambiguity in the Will
regarding the stocks, the Eli Lily stock goes to them, the real prize, and some
leftovers too. I think an interesting
generational stock evolution over 3 generations thus far. Thank heavens for a good stock like ELI LILY
and all the good the company has done with their extensive research and good
pharmaceuticals that are well tested.
They also make contributions to many foundations over a long period of
time.
AS OF October 7, 2010 (save to CD and printed for Kathleen’s revisions)
