Cracker Cures

      I've been fighting a nasty cold, and I started thinking of the different cures my Granny and my Grandmother would use for illnesses. My own mom was a big proponent of Vick's for any sign of a cold, especially if it was turning "chesty." My daddy actually ate Vick's when he had a cold--even though the jar clearly says not for oral consumption. His other cure was more to our liking. He'd take us to the beach so he could clear out his sinuses. Granny, who was a strict teetotaler, believed in the efficacy of a well-made, very strong, hot toddy.  Sugar, water, lemon, and a generous splash of bourbon, heated on the stove, and the fortunate sick family member would sip it from a coffee cup.
     But, the cures and medicines went beyond a hot toddy for a cold. Granny was a firm believer in Black Draught. You did not have to be "bound up," as she called it, to get a dose of the Black Draught. If you weren't happy, you needed some Black Draught. If you looked a little peaky, you needed a dose of Black Draught. If SHE was feeling peaky, YOU needed that Black Draught. I promise you, I learned to smile and act happy, because one dose of Black Draught was enough for a lifetime. And her bottle looked like it was bought back in the 1930s.
     Where Granny trusted Black Draught, my Grandmother Crenshaw was a Lydia Pinkham's Pink Pills supporter. I, fortunately, never took them, but Grandmother would try to get me to take them for all kinds of problems, but especially "Women's Problems."  (Of course, she asked about those in a whisper.)

     Granny had other cures for various aliments. She used Gentian Violet salve for rashes--on humans or animals.One summer I had blisters on my hands, and she went crazy with the Epsom Salts. I had to soak my hands twice a day in a hot Epsom Salt solution. Another summer I was stung by a puss caterpillar, and she had me soak the sting in a solution of aspirin and hot water. That actually helped the pain lessen.
     The most unusual cure I ever saw Granny administer was during the summer of 1969. My cousin woke up one night with a terrible earache. He was crying in pain. There was no way Granny was going to take him to the ER for just an earache. She went into the kitchen, got a little pot, and went back down to the back bedroom. I hear her tell my cousin to get up and go pee in the pot. "Why? Why? Why do I have to pee in the pot?" She just told him to do it, and, as we all did, he obeyed.
     Granny took that pot, put it on the stove, and heated the pee up. She got an eyedropper and took it and the pot back to the bedroom. I could hear her tell my cousin to lie down and put his head in her lap. He was suspicious and asked what she was going to do. "Why, put a dropper of this in your ear. It will stop the pain."  Then the wailing and complaining began, "Granny! Don't put pee-pee in my ear! I don't want no pee-pee in my ear!"  I have to admit, I was was laughing in the other room. She dropped it in his ear; the warm pee soothed the pain; and the night ended quietly. The night also ended with my personal vow never to let her know if I had an earache or anything else wrong with me because the cure had to be worse than the illness. 

Eternal Family Reunions

     Family reunions are always interesting and fun. The first one I remember was the J.L. Jones Family Reunion in 1960. I was only four years old, so I just remember running around and playing with the other kids. I was the oldest grandchild in the Willie Jones branch--so no close cousins to play with yet.
     I think my family got together more at funerals than planned reunions. Maybe it's a Southern thing, but I was taken to funerals from a very young age. I have a vague memory of going to my Uncle Gilly's funeral. Grandmother walked me up to view Uncle Gilly, and I loudly asked, "Why is he sleeping in that box?" Then, swish, Grandmother pulled me quickly down the aisle and back to our seats.I was on my way to learning proper funeral manners. Hush up during the viewing and the service, then speak when spoken to (as a child) at the dinner afterward.

 Bertha Mae and Aaron Skinner

      The funeral that seemed to be a huge reunion was that of my Great-Granny Skinner. Mommy, my brother, and I took the Greyhound bus from Miami to Jacksonville, then we were picked up and driven to McAlpin to stay until the funeral was over. During the couple of days leading up to the actual funeral, we met all kinds of family--from both the Jones and the Skinner sides. Meeting the ladies was always a little traumatic. They would swoop in for a little "sugar," and then, for the next hour,  I'd be wiping red lipstick off my cheeks. Many of my aunts and cousins were bosomy, and I feared I'd be smothered in their hugs.  We had our dinners at my Uncle Van's home, and what dinners they were! The women would start cooking right after breakfast for dinner at noon. Aunt Lucy's church ladies and friends had been dropping by food and desserts, but the women of the family always wanted to add a little special something. I think the food is why I associate funerals with family reunions. We would all come together to enjoy the best each lady had to offer. Black-eye peas,white acre peas, English peas,  butter beans, pole beans, greens of all kinds, ham, fried chicken, chicken and rice, pork chops, biscuits, cornbread--this was the first course. Then came the desserts, every kind from cobblers to pies to cakes, including a special treat--Coconut Cake. More funeral manners--adults chose their food first, then the kids could choose. The elder family member, in this case Uncle Van, would pray and then we could eat. The adults would sit and talk after dinner, and we kids got to run around outside and explore Uncle Van's farm. Of course, at the dinner after the funeral, we all sat quietly and talked. Well, the adults talked and the children were to stay quiet. There was a lot of laughter at the funeral dinner as family members told and retold stories about Granny Skinner and each other. I came to understand that the laughter after the tears was comforting to my family and an important part of both funerals and reunions.
     We were gone from home for a week for Granny Skinner's funeral. I knew much more about Granny Skinner after her funeral, because I had only seen her a handful of times in her life. From this trip, I understood that she had been Mommy's GRANNY, like my granny. And the way my granny spoiled me, hers had spoiled her. There were tears as we were driven back to Jacksonville to board that bus for home because the family didn't know when we'd all be together again. The tears were prophetic. The next time most of these aunts, uncles, and cousins were to be together again was  three years later at my mommy's funeral.  By that time, I realized why family reunions and funerals went together--my mommy was reunited with her Granny Jones, Granny Skinner, and Granddaddy Skinner in heaven. The ultimate family reunion!