JAYSPEAK

What is on my mind? I need to rant! Pardon me while I rant! I have had a lot of things happen since my last post, so I don’t know where to begin. And most of it, I don’t want to share with you. Just know that I don’t have any hidden agenda. I NEED ONE. This is my hidden agenda with this post! Selling my book “Janet Tallulah”? Why not? It’s my real reason for this rant. NOT. It is just a personal journal that needs a plot. Oops. I have/had been accused of having a “hidden agenda” all my life. I wrote that journal to let people know how I had helped myself on my personal journey. When I left town in 1968, I was a strong-woman-mess with lots of dreams. They were talking of giving me “shock treatments” to make me fly right. That is what they were doing to Daddy. (Long story.) A strong woman. Heaven help us from strong women. This is not new news. In acting class, it is called “subtext”. “Knocking little Janet Jewell off of her pedestal.”

What is really going on?  Was I born being a “showoff?” Did I have a hidden agenda at birth? It is one of the ABCs of good acting.  – The line may be “Shut the door”.  But it is the actor’s job to find out why the character needs to shut the door.  So, in life, I would make decisions and choices based on the subtext or What is Really Going on.”  It came naturally to me.  And, It was particularly useful when I was interviewing a potential client as an attorney.  And I would listen to the client’s story to find out what was really going on.  Most of the time, a client tried to justify what a good person he/she was. That is when I knew “he woulda if he coulda, but he couldn’t get away with it.

I considered it a skill.  And acting class honed it and make it better and better.  You may call It “intuition”.  It has lots of names.  But I do it and will continue to do it from now on. My intuition is my friend in Paris. Always at my side. Like my “guardian angel”.

I am taking all of the comments personally. That is what we southerners do. “Bless my heart.” And I remember why I left in the first place – TO GET THE HELL OUT OF TOWN! But so be it. Sorry.

Do you ever wonder why people don’t understand? Do you ever feel always misunderstood? Maybe I am dreaming to think people should understand why I see something a certain way, but they don’t. Well, I released all of that by calling my concerns “unresolved matters”. Most things will never be resolved. And, a lot of it just isn’t true. People don’t want to know the truth. They want to make up their own facts.

I hate being blamed for things that are not true. Goodness knows that I did a lot of things that were true. And, I deserve a lot of blame. But, that old saying comes to mine, “She Woulda if she coulda but she couldn’t.” Maybe they are not true because I couldn’t do it or I could not get away with it for some reason. So, the premise is correct. I was #1. I had lots of ego. I wanted it ALL. I lined my pockets with everything i could and I used people to help me get what i wanted. So? “I always thought of myself first”, said he who was thinking of himself first. Haha. DUH! YES, I am a survivor and I raised children who are survivors. DUH. ….and they are surviving the best way they can. You don’t have to agree.

And the consequences of that with family and friends is being accused of surviving.  Any way I could/can.  Not in the style I want but getting to the other side.  But, I never lied to do it.  It did not matter.  I was accused of it anyway.  WELLLLLLL.  She woulda if she coulda but she couldn’t.  Didn’t you see Glenn Close in “DAMAGES” A strong woman.

No one likes a strong woman. DUH. Where do you think they got “glass ceiling”. “Good girls don’t get ahead, gutsy girls do.”

NO, my friend. Janet Jewell may have been taken down off her pedestal but the money, GLAM, and fame will NOT die with her. Quite the contrary. It will continue as long as there is a strong woman alive to go after what she wants and Jesse Jewell is remembered for helping Southerners eat. Mary Tallulah Dickson is alive and well and kicking in the collective unconscious. And so is Lillie Westmoreland Dorough. If you don’t follow the blog, this will make no sense and maybe only to me and a few others, but hopefully you can identify with some of it. Thanks for letting me rant.

 

It is work to talk to people. It requires too many words. And, then people don’t get it. They think they do. Or they don’t listen or want to know all the facts. And jump to conclusions that are wrong and designed to hurt. And spout some platitude while doing the very thing they accused you of . or something else. I had a client who kept his wife in a room like a prisoner and was an “upstanding Christian”, praising the good deeds of others on LinkedIn.

I am not having a good day, and I may or may not take a leave of absence from my blog, but I need time to think and get a better handle on things. LIfe in France and in Paris as well as the Cote d’Azur is/was no piece of cake. Everything is a challenge and keeps you on your toes. But, we no longer have to wear a mask outdoors. Good. I can take deep breaths again. And, I am seeing Paris with new eyes. I like it.

The bottom line is that I have had an AHA moment in my life that is major.  I need some time to process things. Things will never be the same again.  I woke up from a deep sleep.  And there is no turning back.   Be careful what you say.  It will be heard through a malformed sieve. A rant is not in order. Thanks for listening.

Best, Jay

THIS IS ON MY MIND TODAY. I don’t like to walk or get caught in the rain.  And it is off and on.  So, I am going to spend time with you.  The stats on Jayspeak are booming.  I now have readers from all over the world. That is so amazing to me.  But I LOVE the audience and appreciate the forum.  12,300 visitors.  46,300 views.  So, I shall keep on keeping on until I stop. And I like doing it so I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.  Thank you ALL very much.  So, what’s in store for today? 

First and most important, Janet Tallulah Jewell is back!!!! I, Janet,  took a leave of absence for 64 years, went into hiding under a different name(s), and I came back on June 3, 2021. Long-standing, unresolved issues of mine – which will never be resolved. I did not forgive. I will not forget. But somehow, I let it ALL go. I don’t know how long I have in this Life Journey, but the twists and turns have taken their toll.  I already feel better. A weight gone off my back.  That is my BREAKING NEWS for today. That is a biggie for me. I already see clearer. It wasn’t the name.  It was unresolved issues that I held against Janet. I had difficulty forgiving Janet for her mistakes.  It was a feeling of total and complete failure in all things.  Duh.  I was good at most things.  But, let me say that for now, I just am processing what happened 64 years ago.  And all the years in between.  And all the relationships in between.  So, bear with me while I just post some thoughts and some ramblings.   And a lot will remain unsaid although the message will probably be obvious.  Just let go for a minute and just BE for a minute or two.  That is what I plan to do. 

I need to see what I am doing while the dizzy spells begin to heal.   Janet knows what she is doing – when she stops hiding.  Jay did her best.  And, I have a lot of fences to tear down or mend and a lot of apologizing to my kids and some friends.   I will never be the same again.  Remember, you were here when it happened.  A MAJOR KALEIDOSCOPIC SHIFT.  A miracle has happened.

Bottom line – we have all come through life-altering experiences in this Pandemic.  I spent my time with myself in Paris.  And, talked to myself, you, some stuffed animals, and some plants.  Read, wrote, and watched British mysteries. AND, I am grateful to Facebook.  It had my back and was there when I needed it. Let’s begin. The look. Add LOTS of years.

Well, that pink tiger is so weird that I like it. I overthink everything . AND, I have already simplified my life and gotten rid of stuff, so that won’t happen. I don’t want to fly, I just want to walk and see and think again. Janet can see and think and walk. And, she is pretty. So, I need to work on all of that. Jay has had problems. Nuff said.

Best, Janet

(I have Jay’s back. FYI.)

WHAT????? This is not new news. I am not healthy. I have had several brain strokes that are making me upset. Affecting my health and my pocketbook. YIKES! There is nothing like a brain stroke that can get your attention. It impacts EVERY MOMENT of my life. People either ignore it, say get over it (you are in Paris, for God’s sake!), just keep keeping on, do yoga, take deep breaths, exercise more, get a personal trainer, do physical therapy, take blood pressure medicine, put tea tree oil on cotton into your bad ear, come to the USA for better medical care, ……..

NO ONE OFFERS TO HELP. THEY CANNOT. The only thing anyone can do is to help financially. And, a few nice people have offered to help me financially. A few. There is nothing that anyone can do. I am flying SOLO here. Yet, I am not dying. I keep waking up each morning. Dizzy. And, my day begins…..

Well, nothing is wrong with my mind. Or my memory. Or my ability to think. And, I am intelligent enough to know that health and longevity don’t come about on their own.  – They need a little help.  Can a person grow and heal at age 84?  YES.  I KNOW a person can do it.   There is NO limit to how healthy, how well, how energized, I can feel. 

BUT I must have a plan.   I must be a planner. Even if I stumble, fall. Failure is not an option. Why? Because I keep waking up each morning with a day ahead of me. I must write down specifically how I want to be and feel.   What is my ideal of how I want to be and feel in all of it? How should I begin.

I KNOW. I WILL MAKE A LIST.

All of my life, I have made lists. Yes, I MAKE LISTS.  A person never outgrows making lists.  I came out of the womb making list of what I was going to do that day.  At 84, at 64, at 44, at 24, at 12, I was making a list of what I was going to do that day.

Yesterday, I knew that I was going to do my best to take a practice walk, talking photos and taking baby steps toward living outside of captivity with a foggy brain and eating breakfast at the local patisserie.  I must not worry about the toilet or anything else. That would be my goal. That is what I did. 

The day before, I knew that I wanted to eat an omelet somewhere open.  Not everything is open yet.   And I must plan my trips according to toilettes.  I cannot go somewhere without an accessible toilet.  Or it must be close to home. So I have limitations.  And my plan must include my limitations.   

And I plan my dinners. Wine or not? TV shows. Last night, I binged watched “Halston”.  I had wine.  And so it goes. 

NOW this may be too much “planning” for most people.  But that is my way.  And, it has worked for Janet Jewell (ME) all my life. 

Now, I don’t always make a written list, but I have in mind what I want to do, if I can. Unless something unexpected happens.  Maybe that is why I have had brain strokes.  It does not matter why.  I have them, and I am trying to heal and grow. 

I set goals.  Small ones.  Goals that I can accomplish, taking baby steps.  I love my lists. Lists have lists.  Categories have lists.  Thoughts have lists.  And I have no problems with not accomplishing something that is on a list.  I just erase it.  I like pencils. Pencils have erasers.  I love erasers.  Haha.  I love trash cans.  I throw a lot of things away.  I empty a lot of garbage.  I adjust to the inspiration of the moment. Or I try to.  But I don’t like knee jerk reactions.  And I don’t like last-minute anything.  Oops.  I like exploring. And walking new streets.  So, this is a lot of contradictions.   Oops. 

Well, the goal is to grow and heal.  So, I am making lists of what I think might work.  And I am taking a lot of time to think these days.  No choice. 

I want to begin using my name again. Janet Jewell.  Isn’t that beautiful? Why did I change it legally?  I know why.  But now is the time to begin using it again.  Né Jewell.    If not now, when? AND, if I am going to keep waking up each morning, I must plan to live. I have 11 items on my TO DO list. And they are all “subject to change without notice.”

Now, that has gone on a To Do list.  And it may or may not happen.  But I don’t have to remember it.  My memory is great.  I am proud of my memory.  I am simply dizzy most of the time.  So, I am trying to train my brain to work when I am dizzy.  I think it is happening.  Each day I practice, it seems better.    

When I wake up in the morning, I am so happy that I woke up, I get excited that I have another day to do stuff.

“Out of this situation only good will come, everything is resolved for the highest good of all involved. I let go and all is well in my world. I am safe. And so it is.” 

 you got this 

Best Jay

I am beginning to feel “Parisian”.  BUT, there are a few snags. I need to be more patient about everything.  WELLllllll – Patience is not my strong suit. So, since impatience does not work in Paris, I need to change.  The Parisian French take their time about EVERYTHING.  And take breaks before work. And, years to finish projects.  And one can wait for hours at a doctor’s office or a store for service. So, if I want to get something done, I must be patient.  And “customer service“ does not exist.  SO—–I must change from being impatient and demanding to being patient and nice and waiting my turn, which comes at some time or not.   

BUT how can I change without changing?  And how does one change?  I HATE being patient and being nice. And I love Paris.  So……. What is happening?  I fought back. AND……As a result, I had three “vascular accidents”.  What? Brain strokes. Oops.

Am I having a Kaleidoscopic Shift?  A Fluke?  What is going on here?  Good question.  My reading tells me that I have had brain stokes because of constant stress.  I apparently was in “fight or flight” mode for the 20 years while I was practicing law, and the 60 before that, constantly on the defensive and fighting for an abused employee – the Plaintiff or a person in general.   As an attorney, my specialty was Employment Law (Government Entities in LA and Entertainment law.) I got a good reputation and was constantly busy.   Powerful law firms tried to break me because I was a woman and up in years, but they never did. 

It took its toll on me. And, then when I moved to France with Steve “to do something else”, I stayed there- in fight-or-flight mode. And when Steve died, I stayed there. And when I had a bum knee replacement, I stayed there – in that mode. And when I had a repair knee replacement on the same knee, I was furious and stayed there. And when I moved to Paris “to do something else”, I stayed there. And then when a pandemic arrived at the same time that I did, I stayed there. And, when I was unhappy in the Studio in Paris, I stayed there. And when I moved to a larger apartment in the 16th arrondissement, I had several “vascular accidents” during 2020 while trying to move out of my “fight or flight” mode. Oops. How to change the energy I had lived with for years. How to move into rest and repair mode. I had to change modes.

It is ALL a process of growth and healing and resting so I can heal.

SO, here I am in an apartment, trying to decide how one changes to get better. And, the first thought that comes to mind, is that I must change. What I had done before is no longer working. How? Oops. I went to specialists. I got tests. I just wanted to stay alive. Not die from a stroke. My knees had been botched. I still cannot walk without a cane. And I soon found out that Paris is more expensive than Nice. Specialists and tests (MRI plus) cost me my extra money. So, I am still searching for my answers. What trauma have i not released ? Or which trauma should I work on? I still have a lot of questions. And my biggest enemy was/is fear. And it all costs money. Duh.

Meanwhile, I got another shot of cortisone in my left knee. I got the Pfizer vaccine . Restaurant patios are open. Stores are open. My blood pressure meds don’t work. I have/bought good wine for the weekend. I need fresh flowers. Friends are coming to town. And I woke up this morning. All that is good. And I dumped the garbage without my cane. And I am enjoying writing this post. And a nice person helped me with a snag in my GoFundMe campaign. And, I have gotten a little financial help toward my goal of 5000 euros. So, all that is good.

At present, I am asking for help with raising money for my medical expenses because I am in a bind . That is difficult to do . I keep trying to “think”. Things are Blurry a lot of times. My vision is impacted. My balance is impacted. I live in a fog.

If you are willing to help, here is the link: https://gofund.me/8771e076

So far, I have handled things pretty well. Brain strokes make everything difficult. I do affirmations throughout the day. And I let people help me. And they are. I have tried to change my priorities and my thinking. And I have. I am forcing myself to affirm the positive. And I do. I am forcing myself to write and to think in a fog. And I am.

I think it is happening. Slowly. YES!!

I am changing. Slowly. I am in the midst of a Kaleidoscopic Shift. The most important one of my life. Ouch. It is not a fluke. I feel different on the inside. I choose to smile more.

Soon, I plan to go to lunch in a real restaurant. I will drink Perrier. I am watching my intake of wine. I sometimes just sit and think. I work daily on my French. A friend and former client is coming to Paris for a few days. So, this is a progress report. I am filled with love for most people who formerly irritated me. A lot of them still irritate me. Oops

YES! I am going to live some more. Fear, Fear, go away. Come again another day.

I read an interesting article on Facebook, posted by a friend in Paris.   I am going to share it with you.  I don’t know the writer.  I think he is in the USA.   But, it made a profound impression on me.  I am blessed.  We all are.  Some of us just don’t believe it or know it. 

So, I am finally pausing to smell the roses.  A former client will be lunching with me in Paris.  I am excited.  I have smiled all morning.  That is a good sign.  Here is the article I want to share.  I think it is interesting.  About my ancestors in England in the 1500’s.

Jeremy Hanlon, October 2, 2019, published it on Facebook at some point.  I read it this week.  I don’t know much about the writer. 

“They used to use urine to tan animal skins, so families used to all pee in a pot & then once a day it was taken & sold to the tannery…….if you had to do this to survive you were “Piss Poor”

But worse than that were the really poor folk who couldn’t even afford to buy a pot……they “didn’t have a pot to piss in” & were the lowest of the low.

The next time you are washing your hands and complain because the water temperature isn’t just how you like it, think about how things used to be. Here are some facts about the 1500s – in England:

Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May, and they still smelled pretty good by June.. However, since they were starting to smell . …… . Brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor. Hence the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting married.

Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water. The man of the house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children. Last of all the babies. By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it.. Hence the saying, “Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water!”

Houses had thatched roofs-thick straw-piled high, with no wood underneath. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof. When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof… Hence the saying “It’s raining cats and dogs.”

There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house. This posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection. That’s how canopy beds came into existence.

The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt. Hence the saying, “Dirt poor.”

The wealthy had slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they added more thresh until, when you opened the door, it would all start slipping outside. A piece of wood was placed in the entrance-way. Hence: a threshold.

In those old days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big kettle that always hung over the fire.. Every day they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They ate mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes stew had food in it that had been there for quite a while. Hence the rhyme: Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old.

Sometimes they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special. When visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show off. It was a sign of wealth that a man could, “bring home the bacon.” They would cut off a little to share with guests and would all sit around and chew the fat.

Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the food, causing lead poisoning death. This happened most often with tomatoes, so for the next 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous.

Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or the upper crust.

Lead cups were used to drink ale or whisky. The combination would Sometimes knock the imbibers out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial.. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a wake.

England is old and small and the local folks started running out of places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a bone-house, and reuse the grave. When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized they had been burying people alive… So they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (“the graveyard shift.”) to listen for the bell; thus, someone could be, “saved by the bell” or was considered a “dead ringer”.

And that’s the truth….Now, whoever said History was boring?”

Best, Jay

This is what is on my mind…. Get some coffee. This is a long one but one I want to write while I can. In 2020, I had three brain strokes. And I am struggling to get better. I did not anticipate brain damage. But then, I did not anticipate moving to Nice, France, retiring, France, Steve’s death, my resulting depression, a bad orthopedic surgeon, a repair-and-replace orthopedic surgeon, a move to Paris, a pandemic, the death of my rescue cat “Missy”, an MRI, out of pocket expenses with specialists, not being able to walk, the need for another knee replacement on my other knee, and another apartment move in Paris in the middle of a pandemic. Ugh. Is this what Daddy meant when he said, “Rough Seas Make Good Sailors”? That is only a portion of the list causing me stress and anxiety. I am 84. And there is no “home” to go home to. I am there, already. I am trying not to panic. So far, so good.

Since I have been staying inside for lockdowns, I have been doing a lot of thinking.  And so, my “walks” are in planning stage.  Where? When? I plan to do more research of this area when I feel better about being outside because of the pandemic.  And so, even though I feel like I am “home” in this apartment, I have several places I plan to go when it gets warmer.  I have now been vaccinated. And, cafes are opening their patios on Wednesday. I need to get outside! And, spring is here and in the air.  Leaves are appearing on trees, and different flowers are in the plant shops.  And it is light longer during the day.  Great!  I love spring.  Hope and new life are within reach. AND, it is my year – The Chinese Year of the Ox! A good one for me, for sure.

I have thought a lot about my family of late. You know, you only have one family and every family has issues. Mine had a LOT of issues. So……as a result, I have had a LOT of issues. So…..what is my Destiny? I’m living it. I have heard that your beliefs become your thoughts, your thoughts become your words, your words become your actions, your actions become your habits, your habits become your values, and your values become your destiny.

As a result of looking at my destiny, I have begun to understand more things. I think that is good. I have done a lot of research about Daddy, Daddy’s mother, and now things have made more sense to me. I was planning to write about my findings, but I am rethinking that. Maybe things are better left unsaid. Maybe. I am still thinking about it. It is a wonderful story of strength, love, and forgiveness. It is a wonderful story of choices and priorities before our time.

My plan was to do a “Once upon a time….”. I wanted to write a novel. But, I doubt I will. And, I would have fun writing it. A little girl. Born to a slave owner in Alabama. Tallulah Dickson. She grew up and moved to Gainesville, Georgia. She met a Gainesville man and married June 1, 1897. She was amazing. One of their sons, my Daddy was an amazing man. And I understand his father now. Even more than people remember. I have discovered it. And it all makes sense to me. I am very happy that I know now. Secrets that adults keep from children. I know the secrets. And, I love them for keeping them from me. I was just one of three – the baby.

Plus, these things don’t mean anything to others.  They have their own family secrets.  But, somehow, it matters.  Daddy did a lot to help entire area, and now it all makes sense to me.  I lived it.  And I am a dying generation. 

So, maybe it needs to be told.  Maybe.  I need strength and energy to write it.  And, I make a lot of mistakes because I write with blurry vision. Brain strokes. So, we’ll see.  Maybe, through my eyes……  You see, when you start trying to recreate someone else’s world, you get outside of yourself and see through different eyes.  I have always enjoyed doing that.  That is why I loved acting so much. And they say “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Well, the brain strokes have not killed me. And, my mind still works. YES!!!

In working with Daddy and his mother, Mary Tallulah Dickson, I recreated her world and childbirth, and five little babies she loved, and how she dealt with those problems in her world at that time in a small town in Georgia. She was born in Alabama. Moved to teach college in Gainesville Georgia. Most of her family of origin lived in Texas at the time of her marriage. The family moved to Texas (Wharton County – in the middle of nowhere – LAMPASAS, TX (near Houston) when she was 10. And at that time, she cooked and cleaned for her father, her stepmother, and three more half-siblings.

ONCE UPON A TIME, there was a little girl born in 1872 in the middle of nowhere, to a young couple in Alabama (Pine Level), on a plantation. The man was good-looking and strong and his new wife was, too. They named her Mary Tallulah. She was their first-born. Her mother died in childbirth when Tallulah was 2 (1874)And, Tallulah cared for her two brothers and her sister a long time because Tallulah was the oldest. It was a lot of work. I need to have more information with names and places but I don’t have them in my head because she had three step-mothers. But, this story is Jesse’s story.

So when she went to teach art at a private girls’ college in another state, she was glad to get away from all of that.  Now, you cannot just imagine what it was like without remembering a different world.  Things were rough.   Life was raw.  Indians.  Woods.   Wars. No television or machines.  No cars.  How did she learn to paint- watercolor?  I don’t know.  Why did she apply to that college? I don’t know.  Why did they accept her?  I don’t know.  She was tall.   Pretty.  Strong-willed. Brown eyes.

She probably “surrendered” about that time. My thoughts on “surrender” – “Surrender is the ultimate sign of strength and the foundation for a spiritual life. Surrendering affirms that we are no longer willing to live in pain. It expresses a deep desire to transcend our struggles and transform our negative emotions. It commands a life beyond our egos, beyond that part of ourselves that is continually reminding us that we are separate, different and alone. Surrendering allows us to return to our true nature and move effortlessly through the cosmic dance called life. It’s a powerful statement that proclaims the perfect order of the universe.– 

She fell in love and married a party boy with a good personality. Edgar Herman Jewell. He was the son of a Baptist preacher. He was 20 years older than she was. He was moody. Experimented with the drugs of that day – opium. I don’t know if I have a picture of him. I have a picture I think is him, but I don’t know. She helped ED with a feed store. And, fertilizer store. At a time when women did not work. But, she did. They had five little babies, Two girls and three boys. Ed kept trying to kill himself. Tallulah kept all of it running. And, they bought a big house with a lot of bedrooms and a barn. But, Tallulah was terrified that Ed would kill himself. She even hired people to watch him when he was alone. She really loved her babies. And she loved Ed.

And, one night he succeeded. Ed hung himself in the family barn.  Ugh.  Oh, the shame of all of it!  And one of the babies (a son), found his father hanging in the barn the next morning, July 19, 1909.  Talk about trauma.  That image living with that picture in your mind forever.  My uncle Beamus, Ed’s namesake, did. Uncle Beamus, Ed’s oldest son (age 9, going on 10) nicknamed “Beamus” (Ed, Jr.) found him that morning, hanging in the family barn., Jr. (Uncle Beamus)

Well, what happened after that is a story of survival that is so full of love and strength and giving that I still cry when I think of the beauty and the strength of it. Tallulah was relentless in her love and protection for her five babies. Aunt Mary Tallulah (named after her mother) was the oldest. She was 11 at the time.

After that, someway, Mary Tallulah Dickson Jewell met and married Leonard Cranford Loudermilk.

But somehow, she met and decided to marry Leonard Cranford Loudermilk on July 23, 1914, in Atlanta, at the age of 42. How did she meet him? I don’t know. Tallulah and Leonard got married in Atlanta in front of a Baptist preacher and two witnesses on July 23, 1914, blending two families that had five children each, and went home from Atlanta that day to a group of 10 children (ages 15 – 4), who had all been through their own individual experiences – five who suffered the death of their mother and five who experience the suicide of their father. WOW.

Let’s figure out the various ages of those kids.   First, let’s list them:  the Jewell kids were Mary (born June 1898), Edgar, Jr. (born August 1899, aka “Beamus”), Jesse (born March 1902) , Furman (born October 1903), and Margaret (born August 1904).

Two of the five Loudermilk kids are listed below. Dennis Loudermilk was the oldest (February 1898 -15 at remarriage). The youngest was Ida Mae Loudermilk, (January 17, 1910 – 4 at remarriage.) Joe and Ruby and Hershel are included elsewhere.

ON the morning of July 19, 1909, that fateful morning when each child’s father was found hanging in the barn, Mary, the oldest, had just turned 11 in June.   Beamus was 9 and would be 10 in August, the next month – he is the one who found his father.  Jesse (my father) was 7 in March.   His younger brother Furman was 5 – he would be 6 in October.  Margaret, their baby sister, was 4.  She would be 5 in August. 

WOW.  Talk about a trauma.  And, if he were suffering from drugs anyway, imagine the craziness that comes from drugs and alcohol.  WOW.  I know that crazy from personal experience. In other words, those kids were very young. And, their mother, was 37. The deceased father ED JEWELL was 52. I am not sure what age Leonard was. I think he was close to Tallulah’s age. Maybe a year younger.

Questions? What did she do for money? How did she manage with those 5 little children and the shame of that death? I don’t know.  But somehow, she did.  And they did.  For five years.  Who was Leonard? Let’s take a minute to see what we know about Leonard. I have a few photos.

Leonard Cranford Loudermilk was born (October 1875) in Habersham County and grew up and fell in love with a local girl Malala Sisk. He married her at the age of 22. Malala was two years older and beautiful, and I image they were excited and In love because their wedding day was Valentine’s Day 1897 (romantic day).

They moved to Gainesville in Hall County when he got a job, managing a company mill store for two cotton mills in Hall County. And they had five children together.  Who were their kids?  The oldest was Dennis, (born February 1898).  The next was another boy, Joe (born September 1899).  The next was another boy Hershel, born March 1902, and then a girl Ruby (born November 1906. And the baby was another girl Ida Mae (born January 1910). The above photo is a photo of Leonard and Malala and their oldest three boys. Malala died on July 28, 1913, from cancer. She was a young 40.   At the time of her death, Dennis was 14, Joe was 13, Hershel was 11.  Ruby was 6.  Ida Mae was 3.  Just babies.  Left for Leonard to raise alone.  From what I think, Leonard was a good man and loved his wife and kids.  I believe he missed Malala very much and wanted the best for her kids.  How sad. 

Within a year, he met a widow – Tallulah Dickson Jewell, with five kids of her own.  They decided to marry and blend the two families. Tallulah had a big house with five bedrooms and two baths, so the twelve of them lived there.  It was struck by lightning in a tornado in 1936 and burned.  All of the children had married by then, except Beamus, who still lived with them.    I don’t know what year this photo below was taken, but the kids look young. It is taken on the steps of the big house before the tornado in 1936 destroyed it. I was born in 1937. All of this happened when I was not present. Or even conceived or thought about. Haha. I just took it all for granted when I was young. NOT.

Another timing to note – after Malala’s death, Leonard remarried in one year. (Malala died July 28, 1913 – remarriage was July 23, 1914.) Mary remarried 5 years after Ed’s death (July 19, 1909 – remarriage July 23, 1914). Mary Dickson was 42. Leonard was 39. That fact tells me that they both needed each other, in love or not. So, they contracted to join forces to help all of the children at risk here. WOW. And they did. And they managed to rear them and send 9 of them to college.

Together Tallulah and Leonard were quite a team. Now, if that is not love, I don’t know it.  Two adults during pandemics, depressions, and world wars, working together to help families and each other.  WOW.  

Now. Daddy felt a strong need to help his mother and step-father through hard times. He was quite a son. And this story is full of love and family and amazing strength during a lot of trauma. The true American spirit. It inspires me. I lived it and did not appreciate at the time. I took it for granted. HOW WRONG OF ME.

I apologize for not being clearer about all of this. Family members may be confused. I still have a lot of blurred vision and want to write this with this MAC that keeps jumping around so I make a lot of mistakes. Sorry. But, I am amazed at all of these people who lived this amazing story during wars and hard times. And, each child has a successful story. But, this is Daddy’s story. Here goes.

His name was “Jesse”. I called him “Daddy”. It has been written “It is dangerous to say that one man in less than two decades changed the eating and food purchasing habits of the United States, saved many farmers from bankruptcy, helped found a national industry. Almost any citizen of North Georgia will readily admit that one man was at least the leading instrument, the planner and stimulating agent for this phenomenal development, and that his name was ‘Jesse Dickson Jewell’ ” . A friend said that he was born “before his time”. On the contrary, he was born at the perfect time and was able to help a lot of people.

A moment to recap – He was born in Gainesville, Georgia on March 13, 1902, to Mary Tallulah Dickson Jewell and Edgar Herman Jewell – their third child and second son. He grew up in Gainesville and attended local public schools through high school. His father committed suicide when he was seven (on July 19, 1909), when he was in the second grade. Five years later, when he was in the 7th grade, his mother remarried Leonard Loudermilk, a handsome, young widower with five children of his own. They all lived together in Tallulah’s big house and Leonard helped with the family business (a Feed and Fertilizer Store). Tallulah and Leonard got all of the children (10) to help around the house and also hired a woman to help. I don’t know if she lived there or not.  I doubt it.    

All of the kids graduated from High School and started or graduated from college. Jesse went for a short time to the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa, and also was a Kappa Alpha at Georgia Tech for a period of time. He did not graduate. He went home to help his mother and stepfather run the Feed and Fertilizer Store.

The South was in a depression, and people were struggling. His mother was struggling. And, remember, this was a time when women did not work!! I don’t know when that store opened, but it supplied farmers with feed and fertilizer “ALL YEAR ‘ROUND” for their animals and crops. But the store could not sell any feed or fertilizer when the farmers had no money to buy it. The farmers in the area had hogs, cows, and chickens. Crops were grown to feed the family, not to sell. Some were – cotton, peanuts, tobacco, peaches. But everything was a tough sell. The land was worn out. And, on top of that, a devastating tornado wrecked the town in April 1936.

Jesse was hitting brick walls.  Did he give up?  NO.  With youthful enthusiasm, he started using common sense.  If the farmers could not buy the feed or fertilizer because they did not have any money, he had to help them get money so he could help his mother sell feed and fertilizer.  How? Pick an animal.  He picked chickens (hogs and cows were too big) Help the farmers get chickens to feed and raise.  Get baby chickens to farmers.  So, he figured out how to get baby chickens to farmers to raise.  (Somebody loaned him some money to get some baby chickens to begin this project with a few willing farmers.   Did his family do it?   I don’t know.) Somehow, he got resources.  It was a risk.  Did he dare gamble on the farmers helping?  YES.  He was going to try.  What did he have to lose?  He had already lost most of everything. He gambled. 

He GAVE the desperate farmers some baby chickens and GAVE them feed.  Most farmers were scared and unwilling, and landowners objected.  EVERYONE WAS SKEPTICAL.  A few agreed to go along. Then, he waited while his mother watched him go for it. 

When the chickens became “broiler” size (approximately 12 weeks later), he bought them back from the farmers at a market price with cash money. With that money, the farmer paid him back for the baby chickens and feed and still have a profit left. There was a LOT of trust going here. Take note.

IT WORKED!!!

People began to have money in their pockets.  Shops in town began to thrive. Jesse helped his mother and his step-father.  The feed store would survive.  The whole area responded.  People built hatcheries, more feed stores, and places for processing of the broiler-size chickens for market. The entire southeast of the United States changed.  And, from there, Jesse continued to use common sense.  It continued to work.  And the industry survives today with a highway named after Daddy. There is a lot more to this story, but it is up to others to write it. I will just keep up my friendly banter on Jayspeak in PARIS for a while yet. I am not ready to quit.

After that, I don’t know how he helped Tallulah and Leonard. I just know that he did. We visited them for over an hour EVERY SUNDAY FOR YEARS. He was into sharing. So, I can believe he shared the wealth with them and others we don’t know about. That’s our dining room. Wow.

I saw the love he had for his mother.  So for all he did, we can also thank Tallulah Dickson and Leonard Loudermilk, along with a host of others.

Yes, Jesse had problems. I know how Jesse’s story ends. But what he did for the area survives. And it will survive for many years long after our deaths. Yes, the story takes twists and turns. But, all of it is huge and in the history books. Yes, I know the rest of the story, but this is major. Thank you for sharing this time with me. I apologize for any confusion. I am glad I tried.

The picture below was the picture in an ad that Daddy bought and put into the Gainesville High School Class of 1955 yearbook in my graduating class from High School.

Best, Jay