I first saw Polly Edwards Johnson some 45 years ago. She drove into my life in a burgundy Mustang convertible and thankfully she stayed around for about the next 5 decades.
I learned many things from Polly, one of the first being that a woman could keep her maiden name as her middle name! In the small town of Bryans Road, Polly -- with her middle name and her open mind was a real stand out. She had three children – Kae, Kris, and KeKe and I had the good fortune to snag Kae as my best friend. This meant that I had unlimited access to Polly.
Fortunately Polly had an open door policy and all of Kae’s friends were welcome. Many of us grew to be part of the often raucous and always interesting Johnson family. A teacher by trade, Polly could be found evenings and weekends curled up in her living room chair reading a book and making notes. When I arrived (whether Kae was there or not), Polly would look up and without missing a beat say, “Pam, you’ve got to read this book, this lady is a fabulous writer.” With her ever present glass of sweet tea and a cloud of cigarette smoke, Polly ruled the living room -- delivering edicts, demands (get my purse, Kris), recommendations and wisdom, to a gaggle of teenaged girls who listened in wonder and took mental notes.
A mother who read books, talked to me like I was an adult, dispensed sweet tea and the occasional cigarette – I was enthralled. If it weren’t for Polly, I’m not sure I would have ever considered going to college. But, there was no doubt in Polly’s mind that was where all of us were headed. It was“When you and Kae go to college -- THIS and be careful what you choose as a major --THAT” – and soon, I accepted as normal, that I would indeed go to college. Polly had that knack, what she said, somehow became true, or at least a possibility. She expected the best effort from people and rarely got less.
And, it wasn’t just school work and literature that she extolled. I remember coming in with Kae one day and Polly jumped up to put a record on the stereo, “Listen to this girls, I saw this guy on Johnny Carson the other night and he’s going to be a big star. She then proceeded to tell us about Elton John. Kae and I (caught up in the teenybopper world of top 40 tunes) most likely exchanged skeptical glances until we heard the first few notes of “Friends.”
And how fitting that the memory of a song called “Friends” would leap to mind as I gathered my thoughts on Polly. She embodied the essence of friendship and she obviously passed that along to her children. “Come in, sit down, have some tea, watch this show, read this book, sing this song.” All this directed at a gawky teenager with loads of adolescent issues and the desire to be taken seriously.
That was another thing that Polly always did – for her students, her kids and her kids’ friends -- she took us seriously, She listened to our woes, our little triumphs and our dreams. She encouraged those dreams. She didn’t scoff or poo poo what we hoped to do, she said “Do it Girl.” And, somehow, when it came from the mouth of an adult, a teacher and a parent, it sounded doable. She came to our sports games, our plays and school activities. She picked me up countless times in that little burgundy Mustang and schlepped the whole bunch of us to the movies, the mall, and the pool. And later, when we could drive and go where we pleased, we continued to gather at her feet and listen to her consul on the issues that plagued us as we grew up – grades, boyfriends, parent troubles, college, and politics. And as we aged the bigger issues of sex, drugs, and rock and roll.
She was an authority figure, but like no other I’d ever known. A grown-up who was interested in what young people had to say, who encouraged us to stretch and who never judged or talked down to us.
I owe her a great debt and I only hope that I repaid a small part of it in her later years when I had the pleasure of making her a dinner or taking her to a concert or spending an evening with her reminiscing about the old days.
Thank you, Polly – for the wisdom, the guidance and the laughter. Thank you for being a part of that Village that it truly takes to raise a child. Not only raise them – as you did your three loving children and their countless friends – but raise them to be responsible, thoughtful and caring adults.
When I think of you in the days, weeks, months and years to come – I will see you in a comfortable chair, bathed in the warm glow of lamp light, head bent over a book and pencil and notepad at the ready. As I cross the threshold into your snug little living room, you’ll look up with a warm smile and in that husky but commanding voice --softened with a slight Georgia drawl – say “You gotta see this, read this or do that…” And I will, Polly -- we all will -- we’ll keep learning and growing and living like you wanted us to, like your taught us, like you showed us.
Thank you Friend, Mother, Grandmother, and Teacher. Thank you and Good bye.
 |
| Polly Edwards Johnson & Me |
No comments:
Post a Comment