Martha Lena "Jack" Teel Johnson

    I was sitting in Foreman-Brown Funeral Home in Andalusia, Alabama and listened as the minister prepared to speak.  "Martha Lena Teel Johnson.  Born February 15, 1908.  Died November 9, 1994.  Wife of Autrey Lewis Johnson.  Mother of Wayne Johnson and Marilyn McCracken."  His voice echoed through the chapel as he pronounced each word sharply and clearly.  He then proceeded to his sermon regarding life on earth and the promised land waiting for Martha and for all of us.  He spoke for several minutes and then a minister who was well acquainted with the deceased proceeded to speak.  This man began in a calm, soothing voice.  "Yes, her name was Martha Lena Teel Johnson, wife of Autrey, mother of Wayne and Marilyn"  And as a smile slid across his face he added, "But I knew her as Jack." .

    Those six little words spoken about my Grandma brought tears to my eyes and a smile to my face.  She was Jack.  I had never heard anybody call her Martha except in a doctor's office.  She was Jack to all of her friends and family.  A name given her to her by two of her mother's brothers when she was a little girl.  It stuck around for the rest of her life.  And it fit, because Jack fit her perfectly.

    My grandmother loved to laugh and smile.  She would give you the shirt off her back just to see you smile.  I remember learning to play "The Battle Hymn Republic" on the piano when I was young.  I knew it didn't sound much like a song as it was very slow and dragged out.  I didn't even realize she was listening but when I got to the chorus all of the sudden she started singing to the top of her lungs and laughing at the same time.  I remember at first I was shocked that she would be making fun of me but quickly realized that she was not making fun of me but encouraging me to keep going.  To this day I laugh as well every time I hear that song. 

    Grandma was crippled with rheumatoid arthritis when she was in her twenties.  Her hands were swollen and gnarled by the time I came around.  She honestly never complained even when she was in so much pain you could see it in her face and eyes.  She would just say "I think I'll rest today."   She made each and every one of her eight grandchildren a quilt by hand.  Her uneven, crooked stitches may be looked down upon by critics, but to me it was just one example of the love she had for her grandchildren.  My brother, sister, and myself all still have our quilts (bow-ties for the boys and sunbonnet girls for the girls) and keep them among our most prized possessions. 

    I loved to hear her talk about her younger days at their "country home".  She grew up in the Conecuh community with her 8 brothers and sisters.  They had another brother who died as a baby.  Grandma seemed to "Pair off" with her sister Dora "Dodi" who was 2 years older than Grandma.  They loved taking pictures and even dressed up as two men.  If you saw the pictures you would never guess that the two "gentlemen" were actually teenage sisters. 

    Don't get me wrong, my grandmother could be a spitfire when she wanted to.  I remember witnessing one argument between Grandma and her brother Fred.  I can look back now and find humor in the situation, because having a brother myself I know how these "tiffs" can come and go.  But I will never forget the sight of my great uncle in his mid eighties waving his walking stick in the air and saying "Good riddens and don't you come back"  as my Grandma, mother, and Addie Lee (Grandma's first cousin) hustled out the front door one night.  I have no idea why they were angry, but I do know that the next morning we were all back at Uncle Fred's just like nothing had ever happened. 

    I try to make it to her grave every year when we visit that area.  It may be strange but when I look at her tombstone I can't help but smile as I remember what a dear sweet lady she was, and how many times I wish I could still pick up the phone and call her or hug her after that 15 hour drive. So to borrow her own words I'll just try to "Be sweet 'til we meet."