This episode from the vault originally aired March 2016, and celebrates the contributions of the strong women of Jonesborough, past and present, who have worked to build this community.
Written by Jules Corriere with Anne G'Fellers-Mason, Abby Hathorn, sarah elizabeth, Linda Poland, Jil Smith
Music Accompaniment Brett McCluskey
Sound Engineer Michael D'Avella
Stage Manager Phyllis Fabozzi
Sound Effects Gary Degner
Edited by Wayne Winkler
Original Music composed by Heather McCluskey
STORIES COME FROM INTERVIEWS WITH OR ABOUT:
Mary Dosser
Abby Hathorn
Mary Holt
Nancy Kavanaugh
Mrs. S. J. Kirkpatrick
Mrs. M.S. Mahoney
Mary B. Martin
Heather McCluskey
Carolyn Moore
Eliza Murphy
Carol Redmond
Jil Smith
Mrs. D.T. Wilds
SPECIAL THANKS TO OUR CONTRIBUTORS
Gary and Sandee Degner
LORI
Coming to you from Jonesborough Tennessee, the Storytelling Capital of the World, and broadcasting from the International Storytelling Center, it’s StoryTown, Jonesborough’s original storytelling Radio Hour.. Thank you everyone. I’m Lori Olmstead.
TOM
And I’m Tom Sizemore. We’re glad you could make it.
LORI
Tonight, we are celebrating our region’s strong women. Our show is set to bring to life some well-known stories and some not-so well-known but ought to be known stories, about the women who shape our community.
Tonight’s show is also brought to you by the makers of Parsley. Yes, Parsley, that smooth, easy going flavor that enhances every meal. Sprinkle it on, or garnish a dish.
ALL
It just tastes better with Parsley.
TOM
And of course, where would we be without our other long-time sponsor, Frozen Toast. Yes, do mornings comes too early for you? Then Frozen Toast is the answer. From the Freezer to the toaster, what could be simpler than Frozen Toast? Hit it kids.
BRETT and ALL KIDS
It’s the breakfast sensation
From coast to coast
ALL MOMS
What do you want for breakfast kids?
ALL KIDS
Frozen Toast!
LORI
Tom, I am excited about tonight’s program.
TOM
Is that because it is filled with great stories? Is it because we’re telling true stories from right here in the Appalachian Mountains? Is it because our kids on the program are so darn cute?
LORI
I’m excited for all those things, Tom, and one more thing. I am really excited that the Spice Creek Ramblers, out of Boone North Carolina will be joining us tonight.
CAST
Applause.
LORI
It’s a real treat to have them on the show. They travelled through the same mountains, hollers and hills we visited, when we went out gathering the interviews for the stories on tonight’s program, crossing over the state line to get here.
TOM
We’ll be hearing from the Spice Creek Ramblers coming up in a bit.
MARCY
I can’t wait. You know Tom, I love old movies. Ginger Rogers, Barbara Stanwyk, Ingrid Bergman, they were some of my favorite actors, because they played real people, not just damsels in distress, waiting for someone to save them. Ginger Rogers once said, The world needs strong women. There are a lot of strong women you do not see, who are guiding, helping, mothering, strong men. They want to remain unseen. It’s kind of nice to be able to play a strong women who is seen”.
TOM
Jonesborough has had a lot of pioneering women, since their earliest days. In fact, the earliest women WERE pioneers, because this was Daniel Boon’s wild frontier.
MARCY
But the women from this region, they cut through more than the wilderness of trees and climbed over bigger hurdles than these mountains. Our first story is about someone very special to those of us who love the arts in the region. Ginger Rogers would have enjoyed playing her, I’m sure, because she was certainly a strong woman. Here’s Joel.
JOEL
Mary B. Martin was a lifelong resident of Johnson City, Tennessee. After graduating Boones Creek High School, she began a forty year career as one of the first female lab technicians at Tennessee Eastman Company. Working full time while attending college during the evenings and weekends, Martin earned her B.S. degree in chemistry from East Tennessee State University. She then became a chemist at Eastman, performing exploratory work in the new polymer systems. A testament to her scientific and creative mind, she received two U.S. patents in this field of science.
Science was one of Martin’s passions. The arts, in all of its forms, was another great passion. Her beloved husband of forty two years, Jim Martin, also an Eastman employee, spoke of their lives as scientific people, as well as appreciators of the arts, and explained a connection between science and art:
When we expect the U.S. scientists to create miracles of invention and to lead the world in these activities, they may be ill-equipped to do this. The arts create a diversity of thinkers, both left and right brainers.
Jim Martin understood this about his wife, Mary. It’s why he began so many art programs and theaters in her name, here, and in Johnson City. Because of her strength and resolve, her breakthrough as a woman working in a non-traditional role, we live in a better, stronger, more vibrant community.
LORI
She certainly did, and so did her husband, Jim, who sadly passed away in December. They left a legacy that benefits all of us. And in case you didn’t notice the big letters outside this building, you walked through the Mary B. Martin Storytelling Hall when you came to the show tonight.
NANCY R
Lori, one of the things I think is important about the women around these parts is their independence. A fierce independence, I’d say. We know how to do things, we make sure to get the best education we can. In 1833, newspaper articles written by travelers to the region noted, and were almost astonished by the fact that Jonesboro boasted both a male and female academy. 1833. Think about it- that is not what most people would imagine when thinking about this region. They may still have wanted to call us hillbillies, but our hillbillies were often more educated than folks in Charleston and Richmond. At least, when it comes to women. It’s not surprising that Mary B. Martin had a scientific mind. It’s not surprising that Marion McKinney would become the first woman to serve on the board of elections. It’s not surprising that many suffragettes in Washington County helped make the right for women to vote a reality, by petitioning, demonstrating, making speeches and proudly standing up for women’s rights, which finally, finally convinced Tennessee to become the 36th state to ratify the 19th amendment, on August 18, 1920, giving women the right to vote.
SADIE
That wasn’t even a hundred years ago.
NANCY
That’s right Sadie. And I think it is important to mention that Mississippi rejected it in 1920, and took no action to officially ratify it until 1984. I’m proud to be part of our heritage and legacy, by being an independent woman myself. Tennessee was the vote that was needed to make it happen, and in doing so, changed history for all of the United States.
LORI
You are so right, Nancy. And I want to point out it was also brave of the Senate and House and Governor, to stand up and make that decision, and stand on the right side of history. Those men were also threatened, facing political ruin, but they did it.
TOM
Some of our stories are about the women whose names made the papers and the history books. There are also some, like those Ginger Rogers mention, that were independent and strong in much quieter ways. Our good friend Jil came by and shared with us a personal story about what it means to win with grace, on a day she couldn’t lose.
NANCY HOPE
It was a simple game – a meaningless game, but for some reason on that particular day, it was my game. I couldn’t lose.
The game was called Jarts and it consisted of giant, heavy, handheld darts that you tossed through the air at a plastic circle on the ground. The thick, weighted metal point at the end of each Jart caused it to stick firmlywherever it landed. The winner of the game was the player with the most Jarts in the ring.
I don’t know if I was simply having a lucky streak or if my arm and brain synchronized in such a way that my body knew exactly how hard and high to toss each Jart with perfect consistency or if God was simply amusing himself by watching this small game play out knowing how the bigger game would end in the long run.
I was at a picnic at the home of a friend. It was a “singles” picnic with food, games and unlimited opportunities to shine or humiliate one’s self in the presence of prospective suitors. Before dinner, the hostess produced an official Lawn Jarts set and set it up in her back yard.
SUSAN
OK, we’re ready to go. Who wants to try?
NANCY HOPE
I’d always wanted to try Jarts, because lobbing potentially deadly but bright colored objects through the air looked like great fun.Plus it didn’t involve a lot of sweaty running around – unless you were dodging the Jarts.
JONATHAN
I’ll give it a try.
ABBY
Me too.
JONATHAN
Are you sure this is safe?
SUSAN
How about you, Jil?
NANCY HOPE
In an attempt to restrain my enthusiasm I said, “Well, I don’t know – I’ve never played before.”
SUSAN
Oh, come on. It’s easy.
NANCY HOPE
At that invitation, I jumped up and my winning streak began. I quickly and gleefully beat the hostess three games in a row.
SUSAN
Well…I better go check on the food.
NANCY HOPE
Giddy with victory, my normally reserved self scanned the yard for possible players. At that point, I wasn’t caring about “wins”, I was just having a good time. Several others came and played. We laughed and had fun like we were supposed to and I continued to win. I couldn’t lose. I was just about to call it quits and head over to the food table when the only “single” that I was interested in at the party approached the “Jart arena” to play.
STEPHEN
How about a match?
NANCY HOPE
At the time, I knew the man was probably competitive, but I didn’t know how much that would entail. We played our first game. I quickly won.
STEPHEN
(Laughs) I’m just warming up.
NANCY HOPE
We played again – I won.
STEPHEN
Let’s switch sides.
NANCY HOPE
I won.
STEPHEN
Lets switch jarts.
NANCY HOPE
I won. Now since this was someone I was interested in, I was thinking perhaps it was not very attractive on my part to be winning so much. I tried to play the next game with less focus and more flirt.
I won.
I briefly thought about throwing a game, but I grew up with brothers and that fleeting thought left my head as an unexplained burst of laughter. I tried to make a joke out of the whole thing, but this only seemed to spur on my competition’s desire or was it – need - to win.
STEPHEN
Another round?
NANCY HOPE
After 10 or more rounds, the only thing I was losing was interest in the game. Mr. Handsome refused any suggestions that we stop playing.His determination to win increasing each game.
I was in a quandary. I still wanted this guy to be interested in me. I also wanted dinner. But – I couldn’t lose. I and the Jarts had apparently become one. I was having a backyard Zen experience of some sort. I was stuck in the flow and I couldn’t get out. My challenger was growing ever more frustrated. I saw my chances of a date flying further away with each Jart that sailed through the air and hit the target.
SUSAN
Now Jil, you two haven’t had a thing to eat yet. Come have some dinner.
STEPHEN
Sure. We can finish up the game after dinner.
SUSAN
No, you won’t. You have had enough.
NANCY HOPE
I watched with gratitude as she scooped up the Jarts and targets and took them in the house. My unsuccessful opponent headed immediately to the food table, filled his plate and sat with the guys. I grabbed a burger and sat by the girls – many of whom had a crush on this gentleman, and obviously envious of the excessive attention bestowed upon me.
ABBY
So, uh, what happened?
NANCY HOPE
I won…Every game.
ABBY
(Sighs in relief) Ohhh, good. I mean, good for you!
NANCY HOPE
You could see the palpable relief on their faces, feeling that by beating him over and over again at a sport, I was no longer considered competition for his romantic attention. It’s true that he didn’t officially ask me out for 8 months after that. In another 8 months when the relationship was not the great romance I had hoped it would be, I considered escaping by becoming a professional Jarts player and touring the country. However by this time Jarts were officially banned in the United States. The one sport where I knew I was a winner was no longer an option, and now I still couldn’t lose- I couldn’t lose the loser.
LORI
Thanks, Nancy Hope, and thank Jil, for a great story.
SFX
Bells, whistles.
LORI
Oh, brother. I know what that sound is.
TOM
It’s the time in our show when the cast comes together to share their deep knowledge and wisdom in a piece we like to call,
ALL
Throw me a line!
ANNE
Nothing ruins a Friday more than an understanding that today is Monday.
NANCY R
I just missed winning the lottery by six numbers.
ABBY
Dear eyelashes, wishbones, dandelions, 11:11, shooting stars, and birthday candles. Can you just do your jobs!
MARCY
I wonder how much a zebra would cost if you scanned it.
BRETT
For daylight savings, we should move the clocks forward an hour on Monday at 9 AM so that we lose an hour of work instead of sleep.
SUSAN
Studies have shown that women who carry a little extra weight live longer than the men who mention it.
STEPHEN
If I had a dollar for every date that found me unattractive, they would eventually find me attractive.
JOEL
Apparently, I snore so loudly that it scares everyone in the car I’m driving.
NANCY HOPE
I just read that 4,153,237 people got married last year, not to cause any trouble but shouldn't that be an even number?
LINDA
When an employment application asks who is to be notified in case of emergency, I always write, "A very good doctor".
PHYLLIS
You know what they say. A clean house is a sign of a broken computer.
TOM
Sometimes I wonder if Google is my mother, because it won’t let me finish my sentence without coming up with other suggestions.
LORI
OK, OK, that is enough of that. Folks, if you’re just tuning in, you’re listening to A night with the Jonesborough Yarn Exchange on WETS 89.5 out of Johnson City, Tennessee.
BRETT
30 Seconds of music.
LORI
And, We’re back
TOM
Lori, There is so many stories, and so much history here in Jonesborough, and there is one person in town who is here to make sure we storytellers get our facts straight when we’re talking about history, and that’s our own Anne G’Fellers-Mason from the Heritage Alliance of Northeast Tennessee and Southwest Virginia. Let’s have her come up and share a story about our strong women for my favorite historical segment, Ask the Historian.
ANNE
Thanks Tom. OK. Imagine this. You’re invited to a party, and it’s gonna be big! I’m talking BBQs and baseball games, concerts and lectures. This is a multi-day event, and the streets will be packed. Oh, you didn’t receive your invitation? No worries, I’ve got a spare on me. The event I’m talking about was the 1912 Jonesborough Homecoming, an event that celebrated the placement of the new cornerstone for the third, brick Washington County Courthouse.You’re probably very familiar with this building. The party was so successful and so well attended, that even a newspaper in New York wrote about it. And this, this was the official image for the 1912 Homecoming. Not the first picture that comes to mind when you think party.
I use this photo as a teaching tool with students about how times have changed, but all humor aside, and believe me, there have been some very humorous discussions of this image, all humor aside, this is a remarkable picture. Jonesborough chose this picture, these women to represent the Town in 1912. Who were these women? From the left to right we have Mrs. Eliza Muprhy, Mrs. D.T. Wilds, Mrs. Mary Dosser, Mrs. S.J.Kirkpatrick, and Mrs. M.S. Mahoney. These were the matriarchs of Jonesborough, the oldest women in town.They’re pictured at the Old Mill Spring, and this picture was printed with the legend about the Spring, you know it.Anyone who drinks from these waters is destined to return to Jonesborough time and time again. This was a welcome home, a reminder to remember where you came from and who you are.
These women were the daughters of Brigadier Generals, the wives of lawyers and judges, newspaper owners and merchants. It’s sad, and telling, that when I look to our archives now, I find way more about who they were married to, then who they were. That’s a hole that needs filling, but I think that makes this picture all the more remarkable. Jonesborough could have picked men to be in this photo, women weren’t allowed to vote until 1919, 7 years later, so what good was a Courthouse celebration to them?The Courthouse is the heart of Jonesborough, and these women, these women were the backbone, and I think that’s what this picture is all about.
MARCY
(Tells short piece about one of the women in the photo who is a relative.)
LORI
And you know, it is stories like that, that making living here so incredible. We can touch our roots. Or, those of us who are transplants like me, we get to know someone who touched those roots, and hear family stories about those tales. Touching history going back more than a hundred years. That’s powerful.
LINDA
I give town tours of Jonesborough. I know the place like I’ve lived here my whole life, but I’m a transplant, too. I was lucky enough to get to know someone who would introduce me to the people, the places, and the customs of this town. Now, 30 years later, I am a local. I’m from here. But let me tell you how it happened.
The first time I ever met her she came into my office at the travel agency where I worked pushed everything on top of my desk to one side and sat cross-legged on top of my desk. With a crooked smile, she watched me to see what I would do. I had a strange feeling that I had known her a long time ago but that was impossible because we had just moved from Denver to Tennessee.
I carefully removed anything that was breakable from my desk ….never taking my eyes off her. Then I pushed everything else off my desk and on to the floor…. Her eyes got very big. Then I jumped up onto the desk crisscrossed my legs and said, “I’m new in town thanks for showing me how things are done around here.” She smiled then ask me if red was my true hair color. I cracked up and asked her if she had just come out of a major wind storm or was her hair always that wild………….
She began to laugh and said “Richter told me to come and check the new girl out to see if I thought you could handle doing tours overseas with a bunch of college students with assorted behavior oddities.”
I will tell Richter that we have a real firecracker that just might be fun to work with. She slid off my desk, and with a very dramatic gesture threw her scarf around her neck, and started striding out of my office on those long legs of hers.Just as I was going to ask her name, she turned around and said “Oh… I am Carolyn, Carolyn Moore.” Oh another thing we are having a Christmas party and you really must come.
Then she was gone and I was standing in the middle of the office with everyone staring at me. Renee who had worked there the longest and always looked like she was getting into mischief said, “She must have really liked you to invite you to the house.You will love the Moore’s house it is so small and quaint. Then they all giggled… I had a funny feeling that I was being set up.
I asked around about Carolyn Moore and learned she not only lived in Jonesborough the oldest town in Tennessee but her tireless efforts had helped to put Jonesborough on the map.
I received a hand written note on some… Holiday Inn hotel stationary from somewhere out west. The envelope had quite a few miss-matched stamps on it that looked like they had been retrieved from other letters. The note was a reminder about the Christmas party with the date and directions to the house. There was a P.S. You may bring your husband if you have one.
Well I was intrigued to say the least. Unfortunately, my husband Jim had to be in Texas and could not attend with me. I went early since I was not familiar with Depot Street and you can imagine my surprise when I saw all these cars parked leading up to a massive house with a roofline that shot towards the sky.
I made my way up the long driveway and on to the porch, which had rich red velvet drapes that looked like they were twenty feet long. It was like entering a castle. I was glad to see some people that I knew and I tried not to gawk at all the wonderfully wild decor of the Moore home. Before I knew it, I was taken by the arm and led into another room. To my amazement, I saw at least 10 golden barouche mirrors going up a stairway.
Carolyn had my arm and she looked down at me and said. I had no doubt that you would come. Let me take you to Richter… I wasn’t sure about that... I never knew anyone with the name Richter but off we went. At the far end of the room there was a man with his back to us he had on what looked like a black silk smoking jacket with a big dragon on the back. He was waving his arms around describing some sort of an adventure they had on a recent journey. Carolyn introduced us and he shook my hand then he held my hand up and looking at my arm said I think she is a real red head she has freckles.
They both leaned in and stared at my face …I did not know what to do…..so I began to blush… Richter laughed and said yes most definitely… look she is as red as a beat only real redheads blush like that.
I was still in shock from this encounter when something that looked like a white bird swooped overhead and I saw everyone calmly put their hand over their drink glasses.
That ladies and gentlemen was my introduction to Carolyn Moore and the beginning of a wonderful 30-year friendship with a very strong women of Jonesborough.
I later learned that Carolyn Moore was one of the movers and shakers of Jonesborough. She went to Nashville multiple times working tirelessly to get recognition and funding to put Jonesborough on the map.
OH...Did I tell you Carolyn Moore was the one that suggested I answer the call for a tour coordinator for Jonesborough over 25 years ago?
But, that’s in another story… Oh, there is a multitude of stories that deal with the many - many adventures of the wonderful --strong women of Jonesborough.
LORI
Thank you, Linda. Carolyn was such a character, and truly one of Jonesborough’s most vibrant, creative women.
TOM
She sure was. If you are just tuning in at home, you’re listening to a Night with the Jonesborough Yarn Exchange on WETS 89.5 FM out of Johnson City Tennessee. We’re going to pause for a short station ID.
BRETT
30 seconds of music.
LORI
We’re talking about strong women tonight, and our strong women come in all ages. Help me welcome Abby Hathorn to the stage, bringing a younger perspective on what it means to be a strong woman today.
ABBY
When I was young, I never really fit in with the girls. I sported cut off denim shorts, a SUE the dinosaur shirt and worn-out, pink, high-top sneakers more than I ever wore dainty, ruffled skirts with crochet socks. But you probably wouldn’t guess that looking at how I dress now. I much preferred swinging and making mud pies than standing around and gossiping about my latest crush or new lip smacker flavor. When the teacher wasn’t looking, I would slick my hair back into a tight pony tail and join the boys who were swinging. If it had recently rained, I would join the boys in making mud pies. The teacher caught on to my disguise and started sending notes home to my mother. After two weeks of notes, my teacher confronted me.
MARCY
Why don’t you play with the other girls?
ABBY
Swinging and jumping is more fun and mud is softer than gossip.
MARCY
I see…Well, you ought to try playing with the other girls every now and again because little girls need to be clean and delicate—and don’t forget lady like. Rather than always being dirty…like little boys.
ABBY
Yes ma’am. I will try to be more like a lady. I told her that, but didn’t follow through. I spent time with boys all throughout my school years because there was less drama, and I never was one to start planning my marriage at nine. Even at almost 21, I still think planning that “beginning” is up to the big man upstairs.
People have pushed an unrealistic tradition upon little girls that does not fit into their reality. They tell us that it’s cute to be scared because Prince Charming will come to the rescue. They tell us being weak is part of our nature. They tell us we cannot do certain things just because we are women—for goodness sakes, we women have not even had the right to vote for 100 years. Our ancestors have played an active role in the development of America; however, where are their names in our high school history books? But that is another story for another day. My point is, women can be just as strong—if not stronger—than men, and do it all while working their dream job, raising a family and knitting a sweater. I am a woman going into a man’s world, and from my experiences as a kid—I have learned the strength of femininity that no one ever took time to teach me.
LORI
Up next, we’ve got a story about a very special woman. Why don’t you tell us about her, Tom.
TOM
It was her smile. Mary’s smile was big and bright. It was vibrant. It was a smile of joy. That’s the only way i can think to describe it. It made something inside me pop. We worked together, and I found myself saying the most ridiculous things to her, just to see that smile. Then the store closed. We looked for work elsewhere, and went our separate ways…until one day a former co-worker told me Mary was working at K-Mart. I suddenly found myself in desperate need to go to K-Mart. I don’t think anyone has uttered that statement before. But it was true. I walked through the store, looking up and down the aisles, and I found it. That smile. I knew I would vow my life to that smile. In time, we got news that would make me smile just as big. We were expecting. Then, came more news. News that would test the smile that had become such a part of our lives together.
The first ultrasound showed a fast heart rate. Fast enough for the doctor to order tests. The next ultrasound showed the heart was abnormal. If our daughter lived… if… then there would be open heart surgery. If she lived, there was a good chance our child had Down Syndrome. Later that evening, we stood in the living room - how can you sit with news like that? We cried and held each other. Through Mary’s tears, I saw her strength and resolve. Whatever our child needed, we were ready. Our child lived. There was heart surgery. There was Down Syndrome. And there was laughter and dancing. And smiles. Katie had her mother’s smile. Our daughter. Our perfect Katie. They are both the strongest women I will ever know.
For Years, Mary helped manage the Down Syndrome support group FRIENDS. We chose to adopt our next child, and he found us in Russia. And he, too, had his mother’s smile. Our family was complete.
Then, one day, it happened. After all the worry, all the care my Mary had for Katie, our son Daniel, me, the support group members, she had somehow missed some signs her own body was trying to give her. It seemed it was an instant, and she was gone. I thought I would never see that smile again. We baked a cake to celebrate her birthday, it was important to the children.
JOSEF
This cake is good, Dad.
TOM
Thanks, Daniel.
JOSEF
But you know, Mom always made the best cakes. Her cakes were the best.
SADIE
Her smile was the best.
TOM
It sure…it sure was. I looked at our daughter Katie, remembering her mother’s smile, and smiling herself, and there it was. The smile I fell in love with at first site. Her mother’s smile. My daughter’s smile. I looked at Daniel, and there it was too. His mother’s smile. My son’s smile. And I could feel Mary, and I knew she was smiling down on all of us. Happy Birthday, Mary. I remember you. And your smile. Always.
LORI
Thank you, Tom, for telling the story of Mary and Greg, and their family. Oh, I need a hanky after that one. I think that’s a three hanky story.
BRETT
Well, then let me tell you about my mom. Because then you’ll laugh. My mom is a pretty strong woman. I grew up in California, and she and my dad were in a band together and played in LA. But it wasn’t my dad’s band. It was more like, my mom’s band, back in the 70’s and 80’s. And it was not a girl’s band. It was straight up rock and roll, and it was led by a woman, but so what. That’s just what she did. She set rehearsals, and you better have your timing right and be ready for the changes. She called the songs, and she played piano and sang. If someone in the audience might have had a little too much to drink, she knew how to handle them. She has a great sense of humor, so she can be dangerous on a microphone if you tick her off. Most times, she’s just as surprised as the things that come out of her mouth as everyone else. I started playing drums with them when I was fourteen, probably because they could keep more of an eye on me if I was right there with them. I was known to get into a little mischief too. But…I always say I got it from my mother. I think they got the idea to get me to start playing after this one night they came home late from a gig. Well, see, I was getting to be old enough to stay home with my sister now, without a babysitter. But, we weren’t supposed to have anyone over or anything. Well, I was playing with my friend Chris all day, and then I asked him to spend the night. But I was supposed to ask, but they weren’t here. Chris spent the night, and slept on a sleeping bag on the floor. About 1 in the morning, he woke me up and told me his back hurt, and wanted to get in bed. I didn’t want to trade, but he was going to go home, so I told him OK. So I slept on the floor. About a couple hours later, my folks get back from their show, and I hear the door open. My mom comes in to kiss me goodnight, pulls back the covers, and flips out and runs out the room.
JULES
Billy! Billy! Tha’ts not Brett in there!
JOEL
What? What are you talking about?
JULEs
Billy, that’s not Brett. It’s somebody else in the Bed!
BRETT
I hear this, and I wake up Chris, and make him hide at the foot of the bed, and get where he was, and pretend to be asleep. Then my dad comes in.
JOEL
Brett? Brett?
BRETT
(acting sleepy) HI dad. What’s going on?
JOEL
Nothing. Well, maybe one or two white Russians too many. See Heather, come here, it’s Brett.
JULES
But…But I know it wasn’t him. I swear!
BRETT
Mom? Is that you? Is everything OK?
JOEL
Don’t worry about. Go back to sleep, Brett. Good night.
BRETT
I pulled it off. Chris and I got up really early in the morning, and watched cartoons and pretended like he just came over like he always does on Saturday. My mom thought she was losing her mind a little bit, and do you know what? I never told her until 2 years ago.
LORI
Oh, Brett. Shame on you. I think the fact that she didn’t do anything to you after you told her is a testament to her strength.
PHYLLIS
Well, I’ve got another story of strength. A story from Carol Redmond, and it goes back to what we were talking about, with people who touch history here. So let’s go back in time on this journey, to 1920, just before the ratification of the 19th Amendment. Are you there yet, I’m here, only now I’m the mother of Carol’s Favorite Aunt, who was arrested on the courthouse steps.
CLAIRE
Hey! You’re getting a little ahead of the story. If you start it like that, you’ll make me sound like a common criminal.
PHYLLIS
Well, anyone who is arrested in public on the courthouse steps is usually recognized as a common criminal.
CLAIRE
Mother. Please. This is my story, and I am going to tell it.
PHYLLIS
Talk about strong women.
CLAIRE
I intend to. So it’s 1920. I’m a young woman, who spent my high school years going to school without the benefit of any upperclassmen who were boys, because they were off at war. The country was going through huge changes, and I wanted to have a say in what was taking place. But I had no voice. 50 percent of the people in the United States of America did not have a voice, yet the policies affected all of us. This was wrong. For forty years, there was an amendment waiting to get ratified. I’m not kidding. Since longer than my mother was alive. That is pretty old.
PHYLLIS
Watch it.
CLAIRE
Here it is, 20 years into the 20th Century, I am 18 years old, ready to vote, except some people who read the law that says “All Men are created equal” did not understand that men meant “mankind” Or HU-Man kind”, which I am a part of. I had listened to the speeches of some suffragettes. And I herd some speeches given by politicians that I knew I did not want to represent me or my state. So I decided to do something. And our country, especially Tennessee, was in a place for this historic thing to happen. Since January 6 of this year, twelve states voted to ratify the amendment. We needed 36 votes. Tennessee was still not decided. Around here. There was a “War of the Roses”. Suffragettes, and those who supported them, wore yellow roses in their lapels. Those who opposed, wore red roses. I was swept up in the momentum. I put on my yellow rose, and stood on the courthouse steps, to stand for women’s rights, and speak my mind.
PHYLLIS
And she was arrested!
CLAIRE
Mother!
STEPHEN
Come with me, Miss.
CLAIRE
It’s true. I was arrested on the courthouse steps in Nashville, daughter of a prominent Nashville family.
PHYLLIS
Oh, dear, what will the neighbors say? This is sure to wind up in the Society Page.
STEPHEN
Ma’am, I found your daughter our rabble rousing with those other…women. Looks like they put all kinds of foolish nonsense in her innocent head. We’ve been friends for a long time, so I thought, perhaps, just this once, I won’t book her in the jail. But don’t let me catch her again.
PHYLLIS
Oh, thank you, thank you.
CLAIRE
My mother pleaded with me not to protest again, but I was torn. Good thing for me, I did not have to defy my family, in order to stand up for myself. In August, the War of the Roses was over, and the amendment was ratified. And I got to vote for my first President in 1924. So I say this. We stood up, got yelled at, got arrested, got called names, and some had worse. So make sure you exercise your right. For me. And all of us who fought for the vote.
SUSAN
It hasn’t even been 100 years yet. It is important to vote, and not just vote, but vote with information, Educate yourself, the same way women and men in Jonesborough have been educating themselves since the beginning of this town. Read lots of sources, and make a decision where you know you’ll be standing on the correct side of history. It is our right now. And a lot of people fought and died to make sure all of us, men and women, have the privilege, and the duty, to vote.
SADIE
I get to vote in 13 years.
LORI
That’s right, Sadie.
SADIE
And in thirty years, you can vote for me, when I become President.
LORI
I will be the first in line to fill out my ballot for you, Sadie.
TOM
Thanks, Susan. And thanks Claire, and Phyllis, for taking us back in time. And thank you, Sadie, our future President.
LORI
Women who share a similar birthday to mine, we were not taught to be strong when we were little. We were not told we could grow up to be President. Our play time consisted of playing house and tending to baby dolls, even as our own mothers had just come back from their jobs in the factories, women who were the workforce of this country, while the men were fighting overseas. The men were home now, so it was time to put the women back into their place. But the world changed, women began to see their power both in and outside of the home, and while it was not taught, and not encouraged, some of us, born from this time of change, began to teach ourselves how to be strong, how to have agency in this landscape that would never go back to the idyllic picture of Norman Rockwell, aprons twirling in a kitchen, worn by a smiling woman content to bake cakes and wipe noses while the men of the world took care of business.
Both of my parents were school teachers. My father was teaching in a very fine school district- a high percentage of students went on to college. The town I lived in was different. Higher education wasn’t part of the picture in my neighborhood school. In the 50’s, my parents decided I would go to school in the district where my dad taught. I rode with him to school every day. This was the beginning of my education in how to be alone, and be OK. The other children came from upper middle class families. It was pretty clear what my parents earned from the clothes I wore and the lunch I brought. I also couldn’t hang out with the kids because I rode home with my father. I couldn’t walk to the movies, go shopping, do any of the things most kids do together after school, because that was not my community. When I left each day, it closed like a pond does after you throw a pebble in. I was pretty much alone, but getting a better level of education. During the summers, we’d visit in the Pokonoes. It was in the middle of nowhere. There were no children. So at fourteen, I said I am going to work. At least I’d be busy, being alone. There was a Pops Inn and village. It had a restaurant and boarding house and summer cottage. There was a group of girls employed as waitresses and an upstairs girl who cleaned the rooms, and I got a job as upstairs girl. I think that toughening and surviving helped me be able to sort things out for myself, not just then, but through all of the challenges I’d meet later in life.
I was married to a senior officer and we lived in Germany. He was one of the very first who was called to go to Vietnam. He was trained as a special forces person. He went to Plaiku, working with the tribes people to build their skills and teach them guerilla warfare. I didn’t know that at the time. I just knew he was going to Vietnam. I had no clue as to how dangerous it was or how close to the border to N. Vietnam it was. It was a time that was difficult for me. It was and it wasn’t. I was a wife, but I had no husband around. There was such outrage about the Vietnam War, I was reluctant to tell anyone I was married, and my husband was serving in Vietnam. There were demonstrations, burning of cities. I moved in with my parents. I had them, but no friends to speak of, because they were either married or not interested in me because I didn’t want to go to bars and such. He came back in 67. People never talked about PTSD or trauma. We got stationed in North Carolina, and our son was born in 1969, and a year later, my husband was sent back to Vietnam. It was different for me this time. We had a child. We didn’t live on base, so had no support of other military wives. My parents were teaching and couldn’t take care of us. Those years were pretty awful. The riots, the burning of cities. When the men weren’t in Vietnam they were deployed in Los angeles and Detroit to quell the riots. We suffered with many people whose husbands died in combat. My husband came home, with post-traumatic stress disorder. He recognized it early, and was determined he was not going to have that control his life. He buried himself in academics to deal with the trauma he endured, and isolated himself, withdrew from the family. How could you say it was not a good idea that he was getting another degree? We divorced in the late 70’s. Alone, but not. I had a son. I went into teaching, but it was not for me. There was a job fair in Atlanta. I was interviewed by General Motors. I had a science and german background. They invited me to come to flint Michigan for an interview. I went and realized after I got there, they had a chemistry job for me. I knew I wasn’t a lab person. The man who interview me had the periodic chart of elements hanging on his wall instead of some beautiful paiting. I said oh no, but he opened my eyes to other possibilities. I found out what production management was all about. It was also a time when companies were hiring women in non-traditional areas, in factories as supervisors and managers. That was the opportunity I was given. I was a formanette. Not a forman, I was a formaneette. This was in 1977. I loved it, I just loved working in the factory and the people and that began my career until 2000. I worked at GM and then at Lockheed. At GM we had both a car line and a truck line and you bounced around from lines depending on where they needed a general supervisor. I got assigned to the trucking department and they called me the mother trucker.
I had more difficulty with my peers than with my subordinates. The men who were other supervisors did not want me there. It was an endurance test, to see if I would fail. If I would capitulate. I was determined never to say a word to my supervisor about these shenanigans. They would send me off on a wild goosechase for something that was right there. Terrible duplicitous, mean spirited things. They eventually say I wasn’t going away, and I was doing a good job, and they learned what a Mother Trucker I really was. I was the first woman they brought in. I was a street hire who did not rise up through the ranks. There was no social life for me in that community of people, but I knew how to live apart from them, and finding friendships in other places. That’s when one year I took a class in storytelling. It was an evening, two hour a week class to learn to be a storyteller. And in time, that would be how GM’s biggest Mother Trucker found her way to Jonesborough.
TOM
Thank you, Nancy Kavanaugh, for letting us share that story about your life. We’re so glad you found your way to Joneborough.
LORI
That looks like all the time we have tonight. We want to thank our sponsors, Crestpoint Health, Mountain States Health Alliance, and Toast Wine and Spirits.
TOM
And we want to thank our storytellers, our friends and neighbors from the regions who share their stories with us every moths.
LORI
And most of all, we want to thank you, our listening audience. We perform the 4th Monday ever month at the International Storytelling center in Jonesborugh, Tennessee.
TOM
If you’d like to come to the show, call for tickets at 423-753-1010.
LORI
Thank you everyone, and good night.