The stories we’ll tell

It was sunny with a nice breeze Saturday morning, bringing an official feeling of spring that raised some warm feelings as we sat on the porch and drank coffee — all at a time when we're warned not to get within six feet of each other, so it was appreciated.

These were the mornings my Grandmother Dot loved. Especially later in life when she couldn't get out and do like she always had, she enjoyed crisp spring mornings that weren't too hot where she could sit on the porch, drink coffee, smoke her L&M Blue cigarettes and watch the hummingbirds fight around the feeder.

She's been gone a little more than a year now.

It was a painful loss for our family and as I've written in numerous columns in the past, she was my hero. She taught me how to fish, loved Bob Ross and was the best rifle shot around.

But maybe she used a comforting spring breeze to remind me of something. Life gets tough, but it goes on. Right now we're in the midst of the single biggest crisis of our generation. Nothing since World War II has impacted so many in so many complex ways. People are afraid of getting sick, losing loved ones, losing their jobs or even paying their bills now. It is an absolutely terrifying time to be alive.

Then I thought about my Grandmother, who was not born into privilege and endured many hardships in a world without iphones and constant stimulation.

I remember her telling me a story about when her daddy was off fighting in the European theater of World War II. She was born shortly before the U.S. entered the war and had little to no memories of my Papa Jones until he came back. She said she remembered him coming home and being terrified because she didn't know who he was. And in the early stages of this current crisis, we are already seeing families complaining about spending too much time together. While my Great Granddaddy was gone, though, my Granny Virgie held down the fort at home — something that was much more difficult than the complaints we have of homeschooling kids right now and working from home.

The way my Grannie Virgie worked from home during this time was by tending a cotton patch. Grandmother told me the same story on multiple occasions that her mama would take her out to the field as a toddler and place her on a quilt. Granny Virgie would then pick cotton in circles around my Grandmother and move the blanket to another spot once she finished and repeat the cycle.

These folks also weren't concerned with not getting enough toilet paper or food from a ravaged grocery store. One of Grandmother's favorite stories was while her daddy was off at the war, Granny Virgie would set out on foot — they lived in a sparsely-populated rural community in northern Tuscaloosa County, Alabama — and walk to a neighbor's home for nothing more than a hambone.

Granny Virgie would put the hambone on a cookie sheet and roast in the oven to cook out the grease that she would then use to cook with. Even after Papa Jones came back, she said he would trap opossums and feed them greens to clean them out, then they would have it for dinner.

How many of you folks my age would be willing to do any of that right now?

My Grandmother would go on to work as a nurse's aide and then a police officer at Bryce Hospital in Tuscaloosa — the state's mental institution. She retired from the force as a captain and raised hogs, cows and catfish with my Granddaddy Joe before his health declined and we lost him.

I found myself thankful on Saturday morning that my Grandmother wasn't having to endure the current COVID-19 pandemic and the fears associated with it. She had gone through enough, I thought, to not deserve to live in a world where she was scared she might not have toilet paper.

But then I realized all she had lived through and how she came out on top through it all.

This is a pivotal and important moment in our history and something that we will look back on in 50 years and reflect on how much it changed us. In the coming weeks and months, we are going to find out a lot about ourselves and what we're made of, so it's important that we acknowledge our fears and not let them dictate how we will individually handle this crisis.

As I sat on our front porch enjoying the spring morning, much like my Grandmother, I thought about how this will be an event that we will overcome and one that will leave a lasting impression on each of us, as we will have our own stories to tell about how we were affected and how we overcame it.

Ryan Phillips is the executive editor of the Starkville Daily News and Daily Times Leader. The views expressed in this opinion column are his and do not necessarily reflect the views and opinions of either newspaper or their staffs.