Growing Up with a Preacher Man
Rev. William "Lester" Howard (1929-2021)
Mary Eulalie McLean Howard (1933-2021)
Mary Ann Poore Dean (1902-1987)
____________________
by Carolyn Ann Howard
I'm not sure how my mother decided which myriad of older church members I was going to stay with on their date nights, but fortunately, Mary Dean was one of those church members. She lived very close to our house on Beach Drive on Pine Lane in Monticello, Indiana. Her house was newer than ours, ranch style. And I loved her bathroom! She had a shower in tub with glass shower doors that I thought were beautiful. This is probably why when I moved into my first home, I had my first husband install them. MISTAKE! Do not put glass shower doors on your tub! They are so difficult to clean. Also in her bathroom was a vanity chair. It was all so fancy.
I'm not sure how much I stayed with her, but I remember sitting on her living room floor, playing pick-up sticks with her or typing on her typewriter. I've always loved typing. We didn't watch TV. In hindsight, she may have sat at her kitchen table grading papers. I didn't realize she was a schoolteacher at the elementary school where I attended. She retired in 1968 after the death of her husband, Glen, who was also a schoolteacher. I was 7. Apparently, according to my childhood friend, Linda, Mary continued to substitute teach in the same school system.
She was always kind to me, and she was always gracious when I stayed with her. She had a guest bedroom that was reserved just for me. Outside of the bedroom window, I could see the Burger King lighted sign. I would watch out that window, waiting for the light to switch off. That's how I knew it was 10 pm, which meant it was time to go to sleep. I never had trouble sleeping at her house. I don't remember what it was like to wake up at her house, though. I can imagine that she welcomed the new day and me, perhaps having breakfast ready? I just can't remember.
Once when we were together on a Friday night, we went to a restaurant that had all you can eat fried chicken. I ate all that I could eat and then some. She never shamed me for being too heavy or for eating too much. When we got into her car, I told her I could go back in now and eat some more. She told me that she could, too! I also remember eating with her at a nice restaurant with tables and tablecloths. It may have been Angler's Restaurant.
Mary Dean was born Mary Ann Poore in St. Louis, Missouri. Her parents were Frank and Anna Poore, and she was born in 1902! When I think of the people in my young life being born over 100 years ago is a bit lifechanging! Also thinking of all those wonderful people in my young life, I am finding a gratitude for those women that I've never felt before. When you're young, that's just your normal, right? How I wish I could go back and hug all those wonderful women! I will hug them for sure when we all get to heaven.
Reaching out on Facebook, hoping to find a few pictures since my father threw all my Monticello pictures away, in his dementia. God bless him. I didn't find any pictures, but I did find some comments. She apparently was a stern schoolteacher. She also - I had forgotten - had a birthmark that covered half of face. This was off-putting to some, unfortunately. How brave she must have been.
After remembering the birthmark, I wondered how much it affected her life. I did find at least one picture. Her senior picture. It is heartbreaking. The name of "Poore" at the bottom of her picture indicates her maiden name. Click on photos to enlarge
Mary Ann Dean nee Poore attended Ball State Teachers College and graduated from there with a master's degree in elementary education. Her husband, Glen, also graduated from there. I imagine this is where they met. They settled in Kokomo, Indiana, where they both taught public school. I don't know why they moved to Monticello, but I would think it was because they were offered good jobs there. They lived a modest life, to be sure, but it doesn't seem they wanted for anything. They attended church faithfully.
Death doesn't bother me. It never has. And I wonder if it's because I grew up with it. We had many funerals at the church growing up, and the bodies would be delivered sometimes the day before. And I was there with the bodies, and it was the normal. To that end, when Mrs. Dean's husband, Glen, died in 1968, his embalmed body was delivered to the church. The next day, at the funeral, the only thing I remember was watching Mrs. Dean walk up the church sidewalk to the doors. She was stoic. And it left me wandering, how was she feeling right then?
After Mr. Dean died, Mrs. Dean and my father put their heads together, brainstorming of what to do with the church building during the week. Dad didn't think the church building should ever be empty, except maybe at night - maybe. They settled on starting a day care center. Mrs. Dean volunteered her time every day, every week, and worked to build the day care center. The endeavor was successful, and the day care center served many children over the years.
You know what makes me so angry at myself is not keeping in touch with these wonderful people. And I'm angry that I didn't rescue my pictures. I thought they were safe in my father's care. When I realized he had thrown the pictures of the day care center away, I became a little more intentional on getting whatever pictures he had left into my possession. I didn't want to upset him by taking what he perceived to be his things.
I did also find a small box of slides that I was able to make into jpegs. In this picture, Mary Dean may be the woman on the right, but I can't blow the photo up close enough to see if that's her birthmark or a blemish in the picture. Many of the slides were in such bad shape with many blemishes.
After the day care was up and running successfully by itself, Mrs. Dean retired and moved back to Kokomo. At the end, she was with her son, David, in Brazos County, Texas.
No comments:
Post a Comment