Famous Water Color
Picture of Christ
"Knocking At The
Door" by Grandma Walker
Donated by Dorothy
February, 1972 by Dorothy Walker Schoenhals
My memories of Grandma and Grandpa Walker are associated with
the experiences I had, as a child while we lived with them in their
home, during the later 1930’s and early 1940’s.
I remember listening to the radio that Grandpa always turned
on full blast, on Sunday, December 7th when the Japanese declared
war by bombing Pearl Harbor. Grandpa explained the significance of
the event to me.
President Roosevelt’s speeches and the gloomy tones of
Gabriel Heater, and then the livelier Grand Ole Opry were radio
rituals that I shared with my grandparents. Actually, anyone on Main
Street could have shared the Grand Ole Opry, because the radio
echoed a long way up Main Street.
I can remember running errands for Grandma, getting her
glycerin hand lotion that was made up by the druggist, buying
chocolates for Grandpa at the drug store on Saturday night and
carrying them home in a little white sack, while I literally
drooled, in anticipation.
Grandpa was fond of the chocolates, and Grandma bought the
peppermints that I was not as fond of, until all the chocolates was
gone. I also bought turnips, parsnips and brains for Grandpa, which
he would sneak into the scrambled eggs, and not tell Jake. Grandpa enjoyed cooking and
he was good at it, I thought, except for the scrambled eggs and
brains; which was a delicacy to the others at the table.
I recall Grandpa often had extra guests at the table, as he
was friendly and courteous to everyone, and invitations to meals
were extended to all visitors.
Memories of Grandma Walker are composed of
paints, fishing trips, sewing machines, crocheted dresses —- one for
each girl grandchild, all in different colors. Marcille and I, Willa Mae
and Kaye, Trixie, Jan and Patsy were all matched up to the most
becoming colors. There was a red, yellow, blue, green, orange,
purple and white dress.
Grandma’s paintings of birds, tigers, fishing streams and
mountains the pictures that lined the walls of the house are still
vivid in my mind.
I recall Grandpa calling Jake “Bolivar”, forging wolf creek
baiting squirming worms on fishhooks, picking plums, making
headcheese, wearing a wide, Stetson hat and calling Grandma-Emily. I
associate Grandma with leather gloves (even when baiting her hooks),
red, bright colored dresses, always neat and long-sleeved and
high-necked, pinned with a cameo pin. Even when Grandma was quite
elderly, she was particular about her hair and her condemnation of
someone would be an adjective describing the scoundrel as radical as
he always was such a radical”.
Grandma Walker stood for lemon, frosted lemon cakes, hats,
taffeta slips that rustled loud, boxes of ribbons, buttons, frilly
trims, a pin cushion on her wrist, loud revival singers and
preachers on the radio, and a soft touch for Jake and my dad; while
Grandpa catered to me.