Famous Water Color Picture of Christ

"Knocking At The Door"  by Grandma Walker

Donated by Dorothy Walker Schoenhals

Grandma and Grandpa Walker

Written 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.