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by Phyllis Sasser Hartsell
Turning down Old Trillium Road, wildflowers fell onto lush laurels, bright green conifers, and cute yellow blossoms of the trilliums that lined the single gravel lane. The cabins came into sight around a curve, and easing up the driveway a bright sign read, "Welcome Mamie's Kids".
Greetings floated through the cool mountain air from Cousin Don atop his porch at the Lookout House. Greetings echoed family voices calling the clan to return each year for our gathering, sharing stories, playing in the creek, and consuming a bounty of food. Don and Denna are so gracious to open their mountain retreat to the family and to build a scaffolding for fellowship and fun times. We will be forever grateful.
Diane and Clif prepared a feast for Friday night. You knew the minute the car door opened and a sweet, earthy smell of meat on the grill greeted your senses that Clif had been busy, patiently tending Southern barbequed chicken until it was tender and tasty. Diane stood by a countertop covered with a heavenly yellow squash casserole, fresh salads, zesty pasta salads, and savory baked beans. Sliced watermelon and cantaloupe and fresh blackberries brightened the table. Yummy peach custard pie, colorful kiwi/strawberry/blueberry pie, lemon pound cake, and cookies tempted the taste buds!
It took a lot of food to fuel all the conversations that erupted simultaneously. There were not enough arms to hug everyone at once, but we tried. Cousins congregated on the back covered porch, sitting where the rain could not dampen spirits. Plates piled high with delicacies decorated the dining table and more plates were propped carefully on porch railings and arms of chairs. Diane was busy serving up refills of food in the kitchen.
Younger cousins had no idea there was a sprinkle of rain as they were knee deep in creek water and splashing the icy cold stuff. Nate, David, Jaxon, and Sam were joined by McCullough, Jessa and Chase. All accustomed to mountain creeks, not a one felt the chill. The group demonstrated some advanced rock-skipping skills and cheered each other on to try again and skip a rock 2, 3, 4 times!
Festivities were in full swing, slowing only for a lullaby of rain drops on the roof and creek water over river rocks. A short sleep was necessary to empty our stomachs and prepare for breakfast at 9:00 a.m. in the faculty dining room on the Appalachian campus.
Thank you Clif and Diane for arranging the beautiful, quiet accommodations for not only a filling morning meal but also the perfect acoustics to hear each of Mamie's kids' memorable tales about life since we last gathered. Our youngest cousin, Taylor Brooks, charmed the family with adorable coos. Diane announced that 2018 will be our 20th reunion anniversary and a full house to celebrate would be glorious.
Although the family dispersed to activities of their choice, conversations trailed out the door and into the parking lot. Skies had cleared. The temperatures were not too hot and not too cool and it was time to play. It took a while to make plans and get in the cars on our way to more creek play and more lounging on porches. Some of us ended up at Willie and Keith's art studio, shopping for weddings and birthdays. Everybody had to shop for, guess what, more food!
The youngest generation was continuously in the creek, burning calories as fast as the older generation could provide. A curious bump popped up on their necks as gills began to emerge. Instead of their skin becoming water logged and turning pruney, the kids crusted over with scales. Well, maybe that's a little exaggeration, but lordy ya'll, they enjoyed that creek, splashing skipping, sliding, swimming. It was a beautiful sight!
So to care for his young (and old) cousins Clif fired up the grill, again, and seared some juicy beef. Leonard and Ella fried catfish and crappie they caught and fresh squash they grew. There were salads and potatoes, sweet and russet. Deserts appeared and disappeared. And before you knew it, there were just empty, dirty dishes and full bellies.
In case your wondering, YES, we did prepare and consume a big breakfast at Don and Denna's the next morning. Then there was one last creek adventure. Elizabeth and Jaxon coaxed a crayfish to swim backwards into a water bottle. It was an impressive display of teamwork and focus. (Applause and big grins.)
All three days, did you hear it? Laughter of cousins cackling mingled with the sound of creek water . There were bowls full of giggles spilling over all weekend. This crowd loves to tease just like Fronnie and Paul, Reese and Ora B, Ruth and Dowd, Zeb and Ruby, Opal and Wilson, Joe and Cornell, Clayton and Dean, Evelyn and Addison. We carried on just like they taught us.
In loving memory of all who came before and all who follow.
Mamie's Memories - 2010
The cool mountain air and soothing water of Wrinkler's Creek balance the industrious, hectic lives of Mamie's Kids. Maybe that is why we gathered up the children and grandchildren, packed fresh veggies and cakes and left our separate worlds to be together again. Or maybe it is the hunger that gnaws in our belly for a tight hug with family, for a shared laugh with family, for a moment with family.
All expectations were realized and much, much more. It was a year of "shock and awe" as Mamie's grandchildren revealed a little of their challenges and rewards over the past year. We are a bunch of varied personalities and the stories ranged from tales of successful businesses to building Dobros by hand to renovating really old mountain houses. Some folks are looking forward to retirement and others are leaving retirement behind to work some more. Don and Denna take the "shock and awe" award opening their doors to Mamie's Kids during a home renovation this year. We enjoyed the comfy couches on the covered porch and listened to the great-great grandchildren of Mamie scream with laughs of joy that climbed the side of the mountain and splashed back into Winkler's Creek. Mamie's great grandchildren and great--greats are all awesome. The pictures on the website tell the tales.
Mamie's Kids circled closer on the cabin's covered porch to share our memories:
David remembered Aunt Fronie saying, "Fronie was the eldest. She was extra strong physically, emotionally stable, and in good stead with her Lord." Fronie and her husband, Paul, built houses from the foundation up to the rafters. They built houses for several family members and more rental houses. Fronie was the cornerstone of the family for her brothers and sisters, showing them the way, paving the way for each one. Thanksgiving dinners were at Fronie's house with food prepared by all of Mamie's daughters, but did you ever visit without Fronie giving you a gift, an azalea, a jar of Muscatine preserves? Fronie remained strong throughout her 99 years. She visited David and Marilyn at the beach when she was 82 years old and accepted Chad's invitation to go out on a catamaran, returning with her smile aglow, loving the ride. Fronie was smart and mentally clear always. Fronie was craving pound cake and Diane offered to go shopping for Fronie who directed Diane to the cookie jar for some cash. Diane, intending to do a good deed, only pretended to take some money. When Diane returned with the cake, Fronie was not so pleased. Fronie paid her own way and you sure could not trick her. She was a country girl who loved to grow things, and her house was hidden by azealeas. Because of Fronie all of our yards were painted with azealea blossoms in the Spring. It's no wonder the doctors did not suspect that a 99 year old would have a rash from poison ivy because she had been weeding the garden. Like her garden, Fronie nurtured her family and loved us all unconditionally. She talked about each one by name, remembering the good times with love. I'll never forget her voice as we stood at her door, "Hey young'uns. Come on in!"
Bobby began his memories of Opal thinking that
"Our stories are a jigsaw puzzle, piecing together our common history."
Bobby's history with Opal goes back to times before his birth. His parents, Reece and Ora Bee, had their marriage certificate witnessed by none other than Opal Sasser and her soul mate, Wilson Hatley. Opal continued witnessing all the good times as our family grew. When David read Opal's memories with us last year, we learned how important it was for Opal to tell the family stories. The sisters were very competitive and had loads of fun arguing over who had the most handsome husband or the best cake. They never argued or talked or anything else without laughing. Opal had a unique laugh and a soft heart and loved us all. She loved her community too and taught young children how to paint which became a love of Opal's later in life. I remember how completely she loved Wilson. The family was gathering down on the Ponderosa for a big feed. Opal and Wilson walked up hand-in-hand, living their love story, showing us all how it should be. Bobby knew that the Christmas Eve spent at Opal's was not planned, but he had a gift waiting for him anyway. Marilyn knew that David was the light of Opal's life, yet she accepted Marilyn graciously, saying "Son, if you love her, I will too." Opal took us all into her heart and gave us her love, her laughter, and her stories.
Since Clayton has told us the great adventure of Leonard and Ella's wedding, I guess Leonard figured it was his turn to tell the tale on Clayton. (Clayton, you can confirm or deny any of this, but this is the way Leonard told it.) It seems that Clayton has a fine sense of humor and can be a little mischievous, telling sweet and innocent Wayne and Leonard that cooters were going to pull the cart. The boys thought hard about this but eventually thought is was true. Other times Clayton wanted the boys to be creative and have fun, so the new refrigerator box became the best boy's clubhouse ever complete with handmade quilts donated by Mamie -- until it rained a couple of times. The years of childhood passed for the boys, but fun and games continued. For instance, there was the trip that Clayton and Dean took to New Orleans to visit Leonard and Ella. Knowing that Clayton would want to make good time in getting there with few stops for the call of nature or anything else, Leonard surmised that the bathroom would be his young uncles first stop. Sure thing, Clayton stopped the car, waved "Howdy," and took two steps at a time up to the porch, through the front door, and Ella pointed the way. The bathroom door opened, Clayton entered. The bathroom door closed, AND THEN a roar of cursing came through the walls as Clayton's survival instincts reacted to the snake behind the bathroom door. Now that's family fun! So, the next day was moving day. Everybody was loading furniture onto the truck for a return to the Carolinas. Wanting to be especially careful of a pretty little antique side table, Clayton gently lifted it off the floor. BUT, the drawer fell out somehow and I'll be(!), that snake reared up and nearly got Clayton again. By the way, did I tell you that Clayton really does NOT like snakes?
Remembering ...2009
The wave of time rolled on to July, 2009 and washed Mamie's Kids ashore on Winkler's Creek once again. It was a large tidal wave, pushing hard from the east and collecting many strays. As the tribe gathered for the morning feast, elders greeted each other with hugs and warm greetings. Generations of Sasser's proceeded. Conditions were fertile and a baby boom was apparent. Babies and toddlers filled the room. The tribal rituals began with a calling of names. Each elder called their immediate family present and absent with praise and respect. (Please check the website for our family tree.) Although formalities ended here, there was much more to come.
Conversations moved with the tribe up to the creek, over the rocks, and flowed wherever the family settled. There are many good storytellers who learned from Mamie how to spin a yarn and keep the action alive. As the itty-biddies caught crawfish, and the parents tried frantically to keep the little ones from emergency room visits; David, Wayne, Phyllis, and Joe sat on a boulder and remembered their youth. No, I will not repeat those stories here. But, we were amazed at how our parents handled our teenage antics. Other stories were in the air on every rock and in every cabin. I could hear Mamie's high pitched, grandmother voice woven in each voice.
We pulled our chairs together on the porch to collectively put together stories about Mamie and four of her children. Diane, the youngest grandchild, knew Mamie as a woman who radiated love for God and her family. Leonard remembered the homespun quilt that his grandma warmed on the old kerosene stove to cover him in the unheated bedroom. David remembered her putting cushions on the driver's seat of Clayton's car so that 12 year old David could drive Mamie to a neighbor's house for a visit. We all remember her biscuits that she learned to cook at the age of six when her mother died, pulling a box up to the counter to make biscuits for her daddy. Many of her grandchildren remember Mamie celebrating every New Year, firing the old rifle at midnight. I remember the tone of her colorful stories she told on her own children and grandchildren, laughing as she talked. When others thought her grandchildren were being mischievous, she thought they were "the finest grandyoungin's on earth." In return her grandchildren agree that she was the finest grandmother on earth.
Brenda remembered Reese as a loving uncle who was big in a lot of ways. He was tall and big physically. He also had a big heart. Reese took time for the kids. He shared arrow heads and took them fishing. He could touch his toes and performed a mean hula-hoop. Reese was a farmer and I remember him in coveralls, standing high above me and smiling kindly like a friendly bear. I remember a smell of tobacco and motor oil which reminded me of my daddy. Reese loved music. Although he did not perform, he welcomed musicians into his home for fun and socializing. Reese loved his wife and was remembered for always opening the truck door for her to step out. He was a gentleman and a gentle man.
My daddy was Joe and Don lovingly talked of his mentor, advocate and friend. Don said that Joe was a man's man, strong and respected by others. Joe was an engineer without an education who translated blue prints into roads that are still used today. Don told the tale of Joe always needing sleep and recruiting Don as his driver. He must have learned this trick from Mamie because Don was only 14 or 15 years old. Joe had to get to a job in South Carolina and Don was given directions. Joe was soon fast asleep. The two sidekicks crossed the state line and cruised the roads of South Carolina with Don at the wheel. It must have been a good nap because Joe slept for a good while, waking to South Carolina pines and sandy loom. However, it was the wrong pines and sand, and Joe realized they were way off course. Joe demanded a quick stop and jumped into the driver's seat, putting the pedal to the metal as he was prone to do. On another road job in eastern N.C., Joe supervised a crew driving heavy equipment. One machine called a drag link was considered a prestigious job, paying a bit more to operate. Joe picked the best man for the job and he happened to have dark skin. This was the 1950's and racism was the unfortunate norm in those days. Since Joe and the crew were staying in a boarding house, the word got out in the community and things got ugly. When the KKK showed up, burning a cross and demanding the black man's hide, Joe came out of the house. Joe's response was, "You can have him, but you've got to come through me." He must have had that look in his eye because the bad guys backed off. Although Joe had his prejudices, he was also bull headed about what he thought was right. Well, that's the best John Wayne story that I've heard in this family. Joe was also a big, big teaser, and he liked physical humor too. The mechanics teacher who came to the shop jostling with Joe learned the consequences of messing with this big man. The teacher was lifted and dipped head first into an empty barrel. I'm not sure how he got out, but Joe walked away chuckling. He also had a few giggles over taking David's nickels in many black jack games at the beach.
David's mama, Opal, had to know what her son was getting into as she and Joe were close in age and grew up teasing each other as a way of life. David brought a treasure with him to Winkler's Creek. He had pages of handwritten memories written by Opal herself. David washed the notes with his tears of love and began to read. She told of the years when she was the baby of the family and had her daddy twisted around her little finger. She told of knocking Ruth out cold and staring over her until she woke up. She told of Joe checking to see if a shotgun was loaded by firing it through the wall. She told of Reese going off to work in a shipyard and of Zeb raising white rats that scared her. She told of grandma's good food although Opal was a skinny, little thing. David promised to make copies as time and our tears were running out.
Last, but not least, were Willie's remembrance of Zeb's wife, Ruby. I'm sorry, but I can't recall what Willie told. I can recall Aunt Ruby who lived next door to me all of my childhood. Ruby was the smartest person I knew, graduating Valedictorian of her high school class. She spoke with proper grammar and read newspapers and books. She was a supervisor at the hosiery mill where Mama worked and taught herself to type when the mill closed. She sang in the church choir and taught Sunday School classes for years. One year she taught my class. I was maybe 13 years old. Ruby always prepared well for the lessons, and one Saturday she came to talk to me about our upcoming lesson. The assigned scriptures had something in there about circumcision. Ruby wanted to know if I knew what that was and I smiled sweetly and said, "Yes," not adding much to my comment. I'm pretty sure I had to endure some conversation that followed with Ruby and my mother in the room, but it would have been difficult for me to elaborate because I didn't have a clue what she was talking about. As I said, Ruby was smart and probably saw through my embarrassed lie. Some things are better left unsaid. Ruby had manners and grace that she would not betray.
Back to the current event:
We feasted once more at Winkler's Creek. Leonard and Ella fed us generously and graciously. Rich, spicy, smoky meats melted off the bones after smoking ALL day on the smoker they towed from Jefferson. Fresh corn and potatoes were slathered with butter and life was very, very good. AND if you didn't sleep the morning away, Ella showed up the next morning with a fluffy egg casserole for breakfast and Leonard fried up some left over meat and potatoes. I know Leonard and Ella had to be exhausted, but they left us all nourished and a lot fatter. Thank you.
Don, Denna, Brenda, and Bill housed the whole tribe in cute cabins with comfortable beds and indoor plumbing. Don greased up the old red belly and rides down the creek road were chauffeured by Ariel and Chase. Don inherited the teasing gene from Joe and helped David Brooks load and point the water gun toward the unsuspecting bystanders, baptizing us gently in the creek water. The rubber ducky race was successfully rewarded to Kelly. Thank you for all the time and effort given to herding we Sasser cats and organizing a beautiful time with Mamie's Kids.
I didn't have enough time. I did not get to squeeze the babies enough. I did not get to look my cousins in the eye long enough. I did not have time to tell everyone how unique they are and how special they are in this world. The rushing wave of time pulled us all back to our abodes east, west, north, and south, but our hearts remain with Mamie's Kids at Winkler's Creek.
Love to all and may God bless, Phyllis Sasser Hartsell
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As the family gathered again this year on Winkler's Creek, we traveled back in time on the 1950 Ford 8N tractor with our memories of Mamie's Kids past and present. Cousin Don has collected a couple of the old red-bellied tractors, reliving his youth when he plowed with his daddy's tractor. Don hitched up a trailer and redirected the exhaust pipe, equipping for a luxury ride on pillow cushions instead of hay for the grandchildren, great grandchildren, and great-great grandchildren of Mamie and Willie Sasser. As an experienced 8N driver, I had the honor of operating the magic machine for my adventurous cousins, chugging along a gravel road that follows the clear, cold waters of Winkler's Creek. Although he appeared to be doing me a favor by letting me drive, I think Don just wanted to snuggle up next to his pretty bride, Deanna, for the ride. The young teenagers talked and teased not knowing how much this memory will mean as the days go by. The chatter and giggles tickled my ears over the clatter of the reliable engine. We've always been able to make our own fun whether it was peeling peaches or plowing. This ride was no different. Mamie's Kids thrive on the simple pleasure of family. The Walton's had nothing over Mamie's Kids. The red-bellied 8N rode is a new tradition for our annual reunions. We upheld other treasured traditions like the rubber ducky race and taking a dip in the tempestuous waters that run down the creek. Just so you know, a nap is not an excuse for missing these events. Leonard kindly made his rounds to get Joe and Bobby up and at 'em. You don't want to sleep too much anyway because you might miss important happenings. The gang was a little smaller in number this year. In general, the rowdy side of the family attended. Diane was basking in the bliss of another grandchild, and we missed her and her family. Wayne and Nancy responsibly attended a business conference in Charleston. I hope they didn't work too hard. Brenda attended the reunion and her patience and tolerance with her siblings, Willie and Don, is a trait we would all aspire to build. (If you were not just named, you are in the previously mentioned rowdy side of the family.) Brenda is a true guide for her grandsons who obviously adore her. One grandson, Jake, is definitely leaning to the dark side. Brenda, I would be happy to take him in the young rebel if you need some help. I think Jake is a superhero in the making. He will make the world a better place and he will surprise us all with his technique. Jake hasn't changed really since the first time I met him about 10 years ago. Neither has Ariel. I knew then that then that she was smart, strong, and stretching. She will reach the stars and swing in the Milky Way. Speaking of things high up in the sky, have you seen Chase lately? He has grown up to the barn loft. Chase has Clayton and Dean's good looks and charm. Chase will bring the Sasser name fame and fortune. Our three emerging adults will make our futures brighter and bring us joy. Talk about superheroes and stars...David Brooks is OUR baby. Coming from a long line of talkers (I'm trying to be nice,) he can communicate exactly what he wants and needs. The thing that baffles me is his beautiful enunciation. Let's face it. Leonard is a great guy and a professional talker, but he is a Stanley County boy born, and he talks like it. Eric takes after his daddy a little bit. Crystal has to take credit for our little David's elocution. David let's anyone who will listen know that he absolutely loves the creek. Before he could get out of the truck, he utters a string of cries, "Creek! Creek! Creek!" He never flinches at the freezing water or hesitates as his socks are soaked. He is still singing, "Creek! Creek! Creek!" Eric is right when he says, "It doesn't get any better than this." Our other babies could not attend this year. We understand that Sherry has blessed us with a brand new baby girl. We are anxiously awaiting the details as we know only Diane can describe. Gabe's daughter, Lydia Marie Sasser, will be a year old in September. Vann frequently makes reference to how Lydia reminds him of Grandma. She sure does have a twinkle in her eye. There is no way around it. William and Cameron have grown up. I just want you two to know how proud we are of you for your endeavors to learn and grow with your education. We wish you the best of everything. Our delinquents, Jessan and Eric, continue their childhoods, frolicking in the creek at one in the morning. Of course, there were some less mature and more experienced folks leading the way down the slippery trail. Elizabeth and Kevin were shocked awake by the revelry and waited for the blue lights to lighten the sky, but the Charlie Daniels crowd must have sufficiently occupied the police. I usually don't appreciate being jarred from my sleep by wild laughing, but the gleeful sound of the cousins' cheers tickled me into a sleepy chuckle. I chuckled a lot this year and snorted and hooted. It was a big time. As usual we ate tons of great food. The steaks Ella selected and Eric cooked melted on the tongue. Leonard treated us with home grown, creamy squash that he fried up on the spot. Willie's homemade fresh berry pies were sinfully yummy. Deanna revealed her creative side with a "tractor" pound cake that gave a new meaning to comfort food. Then, Leonard soothed our digestion, picking the strings of his sweet Dobro. We all sang a little but we don't have Leonard's cords. Jessan and Chase (Hager) accompanied Leonard with Jessan on the harmonica and Chase beating an evil rhythm on the sauce pan. Joe promised to bring a cow bell next year. Keith performed an original tune, "Popcorn, Popcorn," which I expect to hear when the top ten songs of the year are played. There were so many new memories imprinted on my heart. But you know, some things should not be committed to print. In this case, many happenings will be left for our oral tradition of telling tales at our Saturday morning breakfasts. It's a better media for recounting our acts of childlike abandon. When the tomato blossom is fertilized, it bears a tiny fruit that will grow if nourished. It's a little hard and verdant green for a long time, and then the warmth of the sun turns the fruit soft, deep red, and juicy. Our family's love for one another does that too. With Mamie's Kids loving care we are all soft, deep red and juicy but that could be from the glow of the ride on an old red-belly or a dip in the chilled creek or from too much good food and drink. Mamie's grandchildren are recreating the fun of our grandmother's spirit. I'm a little overripe and getting all mushy too. Thank you, Don and Brenda, for having us. Thanks for coming. See you all next year when the gang gathers on Winkler's Creek.
Love, |
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| Family Tree |
Our great great great-grandparents were Elisha Sasser, born in Wayne Co. NC, and Elizabeth Smith Sasser. Cullen Joseph Sasser was the son of Elisha Sasser and Elizabeth Smith Sasser. He was born in Wayne County, NC, December 17, 1835 and died in 1917; was married to the former Sarah Drye, who was born in Union County, NC, June 28, 1828, and died August 2, 1896. Sarah was the daughter of Charlie Drye and Easter Misenheimer Drye.
Born to the union of Cullen and Sarah were: William Henry (our great-grandfather, born June 15, 1885, died 1932), Patience Elizabeth, Mary Milecy, Sarah Jane, Elisha Daniel, Rilly Ann, Millard Filmore, and Ila IsaBelle.
William Henry Sasser married Frances Hartsell. Born to this union were Tilden Sasser, Ella Sasser Mullis, Willie Sasser (our grandfather), Mollie Sasser Huneycutt, Lona Sasser Hahn, Lula Sasser Tucker, Lessie Sasser Thomas, C J Sasser, Albert Sasser, and Spurgeon Sasser.
This information was found in a booklet, Cullen Joseph Sasser (Sasse) Family Record, prepared by Nola Baucom and Nannie Smith.
| Willie & Mamie Sasser | |||||||||||||||||||
| Bomar | Fronia | Reece | Zeb | Ruth | Joe | Opal | Clayton | Evelyn | |||||||||||
| / \ | | | / | \ | / \ | | | / \ | | | |||||||||||||
| Pat | Paul Jr. | Bobby | Don | Willie | Brenda | Van | Phyllis | David | Wayne | Diane | Leonard | ||||||||
| / \ | / \ | | | | | | | | | | | | | / \ | / \ | / \ | |||||||||
| Steve | Paula | Elliott | Drew | Elizabeth | Byron | Heather | Gabe | Jessan | Chad | Cameron | Chase | Sherry | Kelly | Eric | Camey | ||||
| | | / \ | | | / \ | | | | | | | | | | | | | ||||||||||
| Mark | Dylan | Paige | Ariel | Billy | Jake | Lydia | Amelia | Anna | Nate | David | Hannah | ||||||||
