My Cousin, Johnnie Ruth

When I was 7 years old, my mother took my brother and me to Mississippi, for the first time. There, I got to meet a number of my cousins on my father’s side of the family. My father had 5 brothers and 3 sisters, and he was the youngest. Eustace, Iris, Myrtle, Abbie May, Earl, Clyde, Fred (Fred had a twin sister who died in infancy), Albert, and Leighton (my father).  Out of all my uncles, I liked my Uncle Clyde the best. Each time he came to visit us, I’d ask him how he lost some of the fingers on his hands. Each time, he would tell me a different story. I always looked forward to the next one, knowing it would probably be more creative than the last one.   

Johnnie Ruth was Uncle Clyde’s only daughter. Somehow, she was able to survive the competition of four rough and tough brothers. This was rural Mississippi where most people had horses, cattle, and chickens. At 7 years of age, I was very impressed with the way she stood up for herself. She had a strong personality and I idolized her. I wanted to have my hair cut the same way she did. I wanted to wear the same clothes. Never mind that she wore tops that were two rectangles sewn together of whatever material was available. I wanted to be just like her. I suppose that we both had strong female role models. My father, Uncle Albert, and my Uncle Clyde all worked for the same shipping company, the Moore-McCormick Lines out of New York (they were Chief Engineers), and were seldom home from the sea. My mother, Aunt Evelyn (Johnnie Ruth’s mother), and my Aunt Ann, all raised children alone. As a result, I was always confused when the menfolk came home. Suddenly, they were in charge, and the strong women I knew took a back seat. I just didn’t know what to think about that! 

When my Aunt Evelyn died, and then my Uncle Clyde, Johnnie Ruth was left to raise two of her younger brothers. Her father left her the house and land, and paid for her hair dresser’s license in return for raising her brothers. She was barely 21 years of age, and newly married. Like her mother before her, she embraced her responsibilities and did what she had to do. I was amazed at her strength. I remember, more than once, coming home for break at college, after I had performed some awful disaster on my hair, and she would always fix it. Like her mother before her, she was a devout Christian, and was often taken with the spirit of the lord. One time, I would come home and she would evangelize the whole time I was there. The next time I’d visit, she’d tell me dirty jokes. I suppose there is a dichotomy here, but it made her very human and that much more lovable. We always laughed together and that made me love her. I have encountered two people in my life who are true Christians. One is Johnnie Ruth and the other is former President Carter. Both of them have a place in my heart. Because of her faith and kindness, she took care of many people in her community. 
 

As the years went by, I found myself living in California. Distance and time found us far from each other and I began to miss our time together.  So I called her up and invited her to visit me. We set the date of her arrival.  Right before she was to leave, she called me and said that she was having back trouble, and had to postpone her visit. Things went from bad to worse.  She found out that she had cancer and that it was inoperable. Her family took her to Houston for treatment, but it was no use. She was destined to die very shortly. Now, most people would have expired quietly, but not my cousin. She decided after a lifetime of service and good deeds, that she was going to direct her death and make it the way she wanted to. She planned the whole thing, and it was on her terms. Right down to the temperature in her hospital room. My last conversation with her was one of the most heart rendering events of my life. I openly wept but at the same time, I was amazed by her faith and acceptance of death. I told her that I loved her and that I was blessed to have shared our spaces of life. On her death bed, I am told, she smiled and told her husband that she was going home. Now, how much better does it get than that!

I wasn’t able to go to her funeral, but my sister-in-law, went for our family.  The church was packed to the limits with people, even standing outside for the eulogy. Vickie told me that it was amazing how many people came to honor her. But I’m not surprised. In her little space of the world, she did so much good for many people. And you know what?  I still want to be like her.