Chapter 3

Dad’s mom, the stuff of scandal... but--

Grandma Pearl’s maiden name was Pickelseimer, but when one of her ancestors landed in the U.S., some clerk at Ellis Island spelled it P’simmer. I’m assuming he felt rushed.

For the life of me I can’t figure out why Pearl married Ed Hayter. Easier to see what Ed saw in Pearl. Pearl was nothing short of enticing, I’m thinking. I didn’t know her in the beginning, ‘cause she was my grandma. I thought I made that clear. But, from what I witnessed later, I’m fairly sure she was an attractive, fun, teasing, thrilling, beguiler. A person who could turn a shy, strong, nice-looking guy every which way but loose. But, again, why would she?

Ed Hayter and Pearl P'seimer Hayter: Real close to their wedding day. Like maybe the same day.

What I know of Grandma Pearl’s family life would fill a space between paragraphs. Maybe she had a horrible home life, and Ed presented a way out. Maybe a truelove had cast her aside, so she grabbed Ed Hayter on the rebound. Maybe she thought she could change Grandpa into a devil-may-care kind of guy. Maybe she loved him… No, I just don’t see that.

All I know is that she turned her back on Grandpa and her young son at an early stage in the marriage. They were living in Sapulpa at the time, and were running a dry goods/grocery store. Dad was just a little shaver, an only son, who, from what I’ve seen in the photos, dressed nicely. I just can’t believe that his attire was any of Grandpa’s doing.

Grandma Pearl in a buggy with my Great Grandpa Andrew Hayter. At least that's what's on the back of the picture. The horse is "Old Blazes." That's not on the picture, I just made it up.

I couldn’t tell you the exact date that Grandma left Dad and Grandpa and headed for Texas, but I’m pretty sure I’m up on the reason she left. If you research in the archives of the Sapulpa Daily Herald, assuming there wasn’t a fire that burned up their microfiche collection, you’d see an article printed somewhere in the early thirties about a Mrs. Pearl Hayter who got tarred and feathered for having an affair with one of the town’s political figures. Doubt they did anything to the political figure. Regardless, my mom said the event was written up in the paper.

The KKK was responsible for the deed. Back in the day, the KKK not only served as the chief enforcer of the Jim Crow laws, but they were also the moral disciplinarian for the community, white or black. I can’t help but believe it was one of those “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone” kind of things. I always imagined that Pearl had known, in the biblical sense, several of those who were pouring on the tar and feathers. No evidence whatsoever, just a hunch.

I only learned of this incident a few years ago. Dad never mentioned it, and Mom only did years after Dad passed. The story flabbergasted me. It provided an answer to something that had bothered me a bit. I remember Grandma Pearl always having thin hair along the edges. I had no idea she was wearing a wig. Kids don’t pick up so much on stuff like that. My kid sister Jill, however, noticed big time one morning. Jill said she saw Grandma Pearl in bed without her wig on. She said her hair was just in blotches. I’m assuming it was hot tar that did that to her. I’m thinking it was. Again, no evidence, not even a Sapulpa newspaper article.

I know anything of how Grandpa handled the situation. Don’t really know which he thought was worse, the affair or everybody knowing about it. He probably couldn’t separate the two himself. And, I don’t know how many women were run outta town back in the day, but that had to carry some bad juju, too.

It wasn’t long before Ed Hayter and his son moved back to Bristow, where for a small time he bought another store. This one a small grocery store. As far as Grandma goes, I’m pretty sure that was the time she moved down to Texas. Conroe, if I’m not mistaken. That’s pretty much what you need to do when the KKK tars and feathers you. Move to Conroe. Well, not necessarily. That make the place pretty much like Australia in the early days. I think the message is not so much the “where you go” but “that you go.” It’s one of those unwritten things.

In Conroe, Grandma managed a beauty shop out of her house. At one time or other I saw the house, but I’m pretty sure it’s not there anymore. It was just the other side of the railroad tracks in town. Two stories and a big porch on two sides.

I don’t know where Pearl got the money for the house. Perhaps Grandpa helped her. If he had the money, he seemed that kind of guy. Or, perhaps someone she knew in town helped out. The subject just never came up when Grandma was around. – “Grandma, remember when you were tarred and feathered and moved to Conroe? Do ya? Well, where’d you get the money for the house?” – No, no one in the family brought it up, and us kids were ignorantly blissful.

I have no idea why Pearl picked Conroe to move to, other than it was a big oil town at the time. She did manage to marry someone involved in the oil business. I don’t know if she met him before, during or after her stay in Conroe. So much about Pearl I don’t know. Are you picking up on that? I’m not sure if there is anyone left who would remember.

I don’t even know where Pearl got the talent or the propensity to cut hair. What I do know is that Dad would visit her in Conroe occasionally. In fact, when he was a freshman in High School, he even went down to live in Conroe for a semester. He played football at the high school. I believe he played guard. He told me a story about a couple of guys on the team who didn’t like him much. No idea why. During a scrimage, one of the guys hit him high from the side and the other hit him low from the other side and they managed to break his leg. Or knee…a portion of one of the appendages he walked with. He said it ruined his football career. Probably his knee.

During his brief stay in Conroe, Dad managed to meet a cute young lady named Fern. She must’ve been about 13 at the time. I knew absolutely nothing about this until my wife and I moved to Georgetown, Texas, back in 1991. It was about a decade after Dad had died. Shortly after Kay and I placed membership at the Georgetown Church of Christ, a charming lady walked up and introduced herself to us. After a brief conversation she got around to asking if my Dad’s name was Faris. Do you know the chances of anyone guessing my Dad’s name? Faris? I think he’s the only Faris who ever set foot on this planet. No, you don’t guess something like that. She definitely knew my dad. She didn’t bust up crying or anything when I told her he was dead, but I could tell that the news moved her a bit.

She told me that Faris and she had been friends in Conroe. Just friends, she stressed. Dad would take her places and they’d do stuff together. She met him through acquaintances of Grandma who came to the beauty shop. I pressed just a little to find out for sure if she and Dad were not a couple, and she assured me they weren’t. “Oh, I was too young for him,” she said. We were just good friends. She told me that my dad was a perfect gentleman at all times. Said he was fun to be around. Funny, but very polite. I liked hearing that.

For whatever reason, Dad moved back to Bristow and Grandpa after a few months. I’m kind of glad he did, ‘cause if he hadn’t he would not have fallen in love with Mom and I wouldn’t have been born. What kind of travesty would that have been? It’s rhetorical, okay? I don’t need any speculation out there.

The fact that Dad met and married Elsie Teagarden didn’t set well with Grandma Pearl at all. It shouldn’t surprise you to learn that I have no idea why. After Dad passed away, Mom told a story about how Grandma had someone write love letters, pretending to be one of Mom’s lovers. She collect the letters and gave ‘em to Dad, hoping he’d think Mom was having an affair and that he’d leave her. I don’t know if Dad had any doubts at all, but the fact that he and Mom stayed together shows that he sided with his wife. It takes a cold Grandma to do something like that. I’m glad I only learned of it after Pearl passed away, ‘cause I couldn’t have pretended to be pleasant around her had I known. I don’t know how Mom ever managed civility around Grandma, but she sure never showed that she was in the least displeased with the woman. Mom’s sometimes carry just a whole bunch of stuff with ‘em.

While I didn’t know about the forged love letters, I did become aware of the time when Grandma displeased a bunch of us. Mostly me and my brother Dennis. Dad, too, for that matter. Dad just took it better than Dennis and me. You see, one day when I was just a kid, maybe 11 years old, Pearl called Dad to tell him that she was getting ready to ship him a gift that cost her $100. Back then you could do some serious buying with a C note. When dad told us the news, we went nuts. Mostly Dennis and me. I mentioned that, didn’t I. Well, we did. We were thinking pool table. Dad didn’t want to ruin anything for us, but he did let on that a good pool table would cost more than a hundred bucks… even back then. In fact, I think he even mentioned that. “Well, back now, I don’t even think you can buy a pool table that cheap.” I believe that’s what he said.

So, we thought maybe a ping-pong table, or a giant tent or ten BB guns. Yep, we pretty much went nuts. It was a week or two later when a giant box arrived. We all assembled in the living room. This was when we lived on Camille Street. That means nothing to most of you, but it puts me the correct frame of mine to finish this horror story.

I remember Dad sent one of us for the crowbar. Dad seldom fetched tools himself. He was always sending one of us. No idea why. Anyway, he grabbed the crowbar and and knocked the daylights out of the lid to that crate. After about 30 seconds, he sent one of us for a hammer. That pretty much did the trick.

It was almost like that scene in “A Christmas Story” which, incidentally, hadn’t even been on the screen at the time, so just forget I brought it up. The giant wooden box was filled with tons of those squirrelly wood shavings. Dad dug around for a bit and then wrapped his hands around something weird. His countenance did seem to fall a bit at that moment. All of us got fallen countenances immediately after Dad pulled a giant stuff fish out of the crate. It was a tarpon, not that it meant anything to us. Grandma had mentioned to Dad a month or so back that she had hooked a giant tarpon. Even sent him some photos. Dad was just about as excited about the stuffed fish as he was the photos.Grandma Pearl and the big fish, before stuffing. I'm assuming that's her fishing guide with her.

Yep, there in our house was the remnant of that poor fish. I don’t remember for sure if I cried, but I just imagine I came close. Not Dad. He laughed. Laughed right after he said, “Well, she did it to me again.” I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but he sure thought it was funny.

What do you do with a giant stuffed fish? Dad hung it in our room. I guess he figured Dennis and I needed a reminder of the pool table we didn’t get. I could’ve said, “No reminder needed, Daddy,” but that wouldn’t have gone over well. I don’t think Dad put the fish in our room to be mean or anything. He just didn’t know where else to put the thing. I imagine the hardest task he had was to call Grandma and thank her for the stupid fish. I never heard how that went.

To this day, I don’t know what happened to that fish. Just one day after I was married and moved away from home, I visited and the fish was gone. I didn’t even care enough to ask. Truth be known, the fish did serve a single purpose. Well, I take that back. Dennis and I used it to hide some of our valuable stuff. The fish had a wide mouth and we chunked our Nifty Coupons and corroded zinc pennies in there. That used to a big thing then, 1943 zinc pennies. I called ‘em cobalt pennies. Don’t know where I came up with that. I thing cobalt will melt your pocket. Something does. Regardless, whoever ended up with that stupid fish probably found some serious treasure in that mouth.

Yeah, Grandma was certainly a doodle. Of course, about now you’re no doubt thinking “Hey, enough with Grandma Pearl. I thought this was supposed to be about your dad!” Well, you’re right, so we’ll move on. However, Pearl was so… uh, out there, that I reserve the right to bring her up again in later chapters. You’ve gotta respect that.

Oops, I'm bringing her back sooner than any of us thought I would.

I was just thinking that if God is as gracious to me as I have been to Grandma... well, I'm gonna be in some serious trouble. I don't know how much evidence there is laying around about Pearl, but if this is IT, she deserves better. The number of times in this chapter when I mentioned "I don't know" is a bunch. "I don't know" indicates, among other things, that I don't know how much good the woman did.

I do know that she ended up in Tampa, Florida, where she became a well known Realtor. I don't know how many husbands she had along the way, but the name that finally stuck was Pearl Elliston.

The woman was always kind when she was around us kids. Dennis and I went with Dad and Larry once to Tampa to see Grandma. (More on that in a later chapter.) While there, the woman was real nice to us. Took us to a fancy restaurant. When Kay and I got married, Grandma sent us a silver tea service set. It looked real ritzy. We never used it ourselves, but did loan it out for a few weddings. I'm not much of a tea service set guy. You probably didn't notice.

Grandma also gave Kay and I $200 early in our marriage. We didn't ask for it, but I think Dad asked for us. Dad's can pick up on stuff about their kids. It was at a time when the rent was $105 and the car payment $70, so $200 was a chunk. As soon as I saved up enough to pay Grandma back, she refused it. Mailed the check back. Thought it a kind gesture on our part, but said she didn't intend the money for a loan. I would've insisted, but needed the money too badly. My pride can go just so far.

When Grandma died, she left her white Cadillac and a few thousand dollars to Dad. That helped 'em out more than you can imagine. Well, maybe not that much, but more than you might think.

The most important thing that Grandma did was to have Dad. That meant just a whole lot to seven of us kids... meant a lot to Mom, too. In one of David's Psalms he writes what one translation interprets, "God will fulfill his purpose for you." Another says, "God will complete what concerns me." I have enough faith to believe that God did just that with Pearl. She was not all good, not all bad... but a woman of purpose. Like each of us. Purpose is just hard to see sometimes. I'm saying that of me, not Grandma.

Okay, now we can go on to Chapter 4. I’ll tell you what it’s about when I finish it. Fair enough?