10 Years of sweet memories

I’ve had my grandmother, Bessie Chesney, on my mind ever since I wrote the story about her saving me from a worse beating. So, I figured I’d write some about her.

My grandmother, Bessie Mae Hayes, was born in 1917, in Grainger County, TN and was the fourth born of nine children to Britt and Penelope Hayes. Her father died early, leaving her mother to raise the children on her own.

Bessie met a young man named, Lorn James Chesney, at John Sevier Baptist Church in Knoxville, and they married in 1939. They had 3 children; my dad- James Carroll, and his two sisters, Barbara, and Brenda.

For reasons unknown to me, my Chesney grandparents would not permit us to call them mamaw or papaw. They insisted that we call them by their proper names, Lorn and Bessie. So that’s what we called them. They later changed their minds and allowed my younger sister, Jennifer, and my cousin Brad, to call them mamaw and papaw. But, Pam and I never did that.

Bessie passed away in 1977, from Pancreatic cancer. I was only 10-years old. While I may not have nearly as many memories of her as I do of my granny Spencer, I can tell you that Bessie was one of the sweetest people I ever knew. She always showered me with love and affection anytime that I was around her. My sister Pam and I would often times spend the night at her house and she would tell us stories and fix us chocolate milk to drink, something that we rarely received at home. I can remember her tucking me into bed in the upstairs bedroom of her old 2-story house, and she would say, “now if you ever get homesick, just look out that window and you can see your house from here.” She always had a sweet and soothing voice, and talked in a comforting way that is hard to explain in written word. She would sit at the side of the bed and smooth her hand across my forehead and hum, slowly lulling me to sleep.

When you walked into Bessie’s house, you could always smell some type of food being cooked or canned. She had a pantry off the side of the kitchen where she would store canned vegetables. I can remember seeing quart jars of pickled beets and green beans lining the shelves. She always had a pitcher of sweet tea made and she always fixed my papaw, pinto beans and cornbread every night. You can guarantee if you were eating at their house, you would have those two items on the table.

One memory that will forever be with me is during the winter of 1972. I was 6-years old. Pam and I was staying at Bessie’s house while our parents were at the hospital with my grandfather, Ed Spencer. Uknowing to us, he was dying of Lymphoma. I didn't know where mom and dad had went, they didn't tell us, and I was confused. I can remember looking up at Bessie and asking her, “when is mommy and daddy coming to get us?” She looked down at me and said, “they’ll be here dreckly hon.” I looked at my sister and said, “what does dreckly mean?” Pam said, “dreckly means never!” I started bawling my eyes out. I must have cried for 2 hours straight thinking that mom and dad were never coming back. I eventually cried myself to sleep. Imagine my surprise when I woke up in the backseat of my parent's car as they were driving us home that night.

I used to put on little shows for Bessie. I would sing, tell stories, or pretend that I was a cowboy or a preacher, and she would just laugh and act like it was the best thing she had ever seen or heard in her life.

Bessie was a singer too. Of course all of my family sings, but she would stand with Lorn around the piano as my aunt Barbara played, and they would sing the old songs of Zion. I think that’s where I first started falling in love with gospel music. Lorn had a big deep bass voice, which my cousin Brad and I both inherited. Brad sounds almost identical to Lorn when he talks and sings. Anytime that we would visit, rest assured before the night was over, we would be standing around the piano singing songs.

I wish I had more memories that I could share about Bessie. I loved her so much, but she was taken away too early. She was only 60-years old when she passed away. All I have really are these few scattered memories and some old photographs that my parents have of her.

My papaw re-married shortly after Bessie passed away but I never really got to know his new wife. I didn’t want to get to know her actually. I wanted to keep the memory of my real mamaw alive and I couldn’t do that by getting to know someone new. I guess it was wrong of me but I can’t help the way that I felt. My papaw Lorn passed away on November 11, 2004, he was 87-years old. I’ll write more about him later.

I sure wish my kids would have had the chance to meet Bessie. I know they would have really loved her too.