Though I presently live in Florida where temperatures are hot most of the time, I have refreshing memories of my time in Mount Gaylor, Arkansas. My brother, sister, and I spent many childhood summers on my paternal grandparents’ farm, located off the old main highway between Fayetteville and Fort Smith. They owned a retail store, Mount Gaylor Giftshop and Tower, which had a tower you could climb to see panoramic vistas of the Boston Mountains. In the late ’50s and early ’60s, I spent time helping them sweep the front porch while sipping cold Cokes from the vending machine. Located in a storage building at their home were damaged ceramics that I loved to use for tea parties and pretending to be a salesperson.
My grandparents, Vern and Helen Stewart Carter, were savers and only spent the money they had. But when others were in need, they readily loaned their money. I think that is where I was motivated to become a banker in my first career. My goal to have a career and persevere through adversity was also motivated by my great-grandmother, “Gran” Amy Dawson Stewart. She was a young widow with seven children to raise. During the early 1900s, she became the first postmistress of Greenwood, Arkansas, at a time when few women were in the workforce. She did what she had to do to provide for her family. As a teenager and then as an adult, I admired that trait. When I became a grandmother, no other moniker would do it for me. I chose to be called “Gran” as well.
My grandparents were hard workers who valued education. Grandad was a pharmacist. He later attended optometry school out of curiosity for the subject. After he closed the pharmacy, he operated the Mount Gaylor gift shop. My grandmother worked alongside him throughout.
She was the eldest child among her siblings and chose to work instead of attending college because she wanted to help her siblings afford a college education. Her youngest brother became a physician, and later, my father chose the same career. Grandmother demonstrated self-sacrifice.
They both valued sharing knowledge and would work with me, reading and diagramming sentences to learn proper grammar. They taught me about science by encouraging me to explore and work on their homestead. They inspired my favorite subjects in high school, biology and literature. Their rural living instilled in me a love for the farms our family currently runs in Florida and Arkansas.
When Grandad moved off the mountain to a Fort Smith retirement facility, he took courses at the community college. He was in his 70s at the time! Lifelong learning is a fantastic legacy I hope to pass on to future generations, too. My four grandchildren share their schoolwork with me and seek advice from time to time. My continuing goal is to demonstrate to them how life is enriched with self-sufficiency gained through knowledge and hard work. Watching my grandchildren glow with a sense of accomplishment after putting in the effort is so rewarding to me.
Grandmother was the one who took me to my first church experience, at the Methodist church in Winslow, Arkansas. It was a quaint, white clapboard church. Those Sundays at church provided me with a knowledge of Scripture and a sense of belonging. My grandmother never cursed or said anything unkind or what would be considered gossip. Her strong work ethic, combined with her faith, made her a wonderful role model in my life. Though my faith was challenged when Grandmother died the year after my parents divorced, she had provided a strong foundation. When I close my eyes and think back to those days, I can feel Grandmother’s hand holding mine walking into that church, and I am reminded of Who holds our hand every day.
Today, during family dinners, my husband Glenn, my children, and my grandchildren often look through old photo albums, providing a time of reflection on our lives well spent in the Ozarks. Some of the photos are from our farm in Madison County, Arkansas. Lollars Creek Farm, which we still operate to this day, was our first home after marriage in 1978. It was also the final home for Grandad living next to my parents, who both died suddenly in 1989. My husband and I purchased the farm out of their estate and are thankful to have endeavored to keep the farm going. Before Grandad died, Glenn had his days enriched with helping him tend his very large garden and rolling Wheatie balls to go crappie fishing together. I remember stopping by the house on my way to work to find Grandad still sleeping at that early hour. I would kiss his forehead, with his old man smell, and smile all the way to work. I’ve come to appreciate spending time with the wise and aged, and I am so grateful for those who taught us well.
This article was originally published in American Essence magazine.