Aberia Jeanette (Peggy) Manspeaker born Feb. 28, 1907 and died Dec. 10, 1994.
I would like to talk about my grandmothers. They were both strong women and for all intents and purposes the heads of their households. While the last thing I wanted was to be like my mom, these two women showed me how to deal with things when life happens. Let us start with Gramma Peggy
Gramma Peggy
My dad’s mother and the woman who raised me. A bit of a rebel in her day. She told her mother, although both parents Italian, she would not marry an Italian or have an arranged marriage. She did not do either. She cut her hair short when it was the new style (not a good thing to her mother’s generation) and made her mother cry. Often mistaken as a child for being black because of how dark she tanned. She taught me the color of skin did not matter. We were all the same inside.
She married David Russell Manspeaker (1910-1948) and had two sons David Eugene and Russell Angelo (my dad and named after his grandfathers). He was not Italian and called her his little Spanish girl (because of the black hair, dark eyes, and skin). He was half Irish and English, French, and Dutch. She joked, because he was younger, that she married him younger to raise him the way she wanted. Gramma cared for her sons alone after her husband’s death at 38 years old from a bad valve in his heart. She worked in factories wherever she lived.
Gramma’s childhood was not easy. Raised by Italian parents. Her mother was a kind and gentle person. Her father was abusive to his wife and children. Her mother married at (I believe) 14 and they thought him 25. At his death, his mother in Italy added 20 year to that. He had been 45 – just looked very young. Gramma said he never hit her because she could sing and she was his favorite. However, she feared it. He died of cancer when Gramma was under 10.
She saw the KKK burn crosses (in Michigan). Her mother being a widow somehow kept them away from their house she thought. The KKK burned crosses at Catholic homes too. Again, they never came but they could see them at neighbors homes. She feared it. She said one male neighbor got so mad he pulled one of their hoods off. It was one of the wealthy men in town.
As a girl (and woman), she had a beautiful singing voice. In the small town she grew up in they were trying to build a Catholic Church. She would help with fund raising by singing. She loved to sing in church as a child and was very proud of the things she did for the church. Her voice so beautiful that the wealthy men in town wanted to send her for voice training so she could be a star. Her mother would not let her go.
Her younger brother needed help for a few years raising his son. Her boys were grown. She lived with them. Uncle Joe then sold her his house with no interest and she could pay when she could. She payed it. Then in her 50s my dad died. He had begged her not to let his wife’s family get us if something happen to him. A year and a half and 7 court hearings later, custody of my sister and I was hers. She had a large lawyer bill that took years to pay. She payed it. She quit her factory job to care for us. She could not keep a babysitter because of me. I would not do what they said because, “Gramma did not tell me I had to do that.” I would only listen to her. Between my dad’s social security for us and hers we lived. We did use food stamps and Medicaid for several years to help.
She gave me my understanding of priests. A priest that came to her house when she was having trouble with her second husband (marriage lasted 6 months) and let her know he found her attractive. She told me to do what the priest says at the altar but remember they are only human when they come down. Well, children always take ideas a step farther. So, I always thought, if I cannot trust them away from the altar, how can I trust them completely at the altar.
One story she use to tell me I would like to share. She had a temper. So, her first husband (and love of her life) would take the boys out to the shop when she was mad. Then to check if it was okay to enter the house again, he would throw his hat onto the kitchen floor from the door. If it came back outside into the yard, they went back to the shop. If it stayed in they could come in.
Gramma Peggy (her nickname) would have been 109 today.
Happy Birthday Gramma! <3
My poetry has been my therapy over the years. In 1993, an unusual traumatic event occurred with me. Poetry over the years has been my sorting out process. I have always had a strong spiritual nature balanced by strong doubt. During period of tremendous confusion, my poetry (sometimes more like stories my son thinks) helped me remember who I am, how I feel, and what I think and always have from a child. The theme I hope comes through is that we should not have our heads too far into the clouds or too deeply into the dirt. Life lives as balance somewhere in the middle with little visits to both edges. All 56 years of my life I have lived in Michigan. I was born in Kalamazoo September 16, 1958. My parents separated when I was young do to my mother’s mental illness. Dad died in 1965 at 29 from a cerebral hemorrhage. I was 6 when he passed. Grandma Peggy (my dad’s mother) went to court 7 times in a year and a half to fight for my younger sister (Kim who was mentally impaired) and me, because my dad had asked her too. She won custody of us. So, I lived with her in Bangor, Michigan through high school and college. I didn’t begin to write poetry until I went to live with my aunt (my mother’s sister) in Wartervliet, Michigan while attending Lake Michigan College in Benton Harbor. My aunt lived near my mother and her mother (my Grandma Elsie). After 2 years there, I attended Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo. I graduated with a Bachelor of Arts major in English and minor in Elementary Education. Right out of college fall of 1984 I was hired at St. Mary’s in Paw Paw, Michigan as a kindergarten teacher. I taught kindergarten for 1 year half days and was moved into a full-time first grade position for three years. I met my husband Gary during that time. On October 17, 1987, we married and I moved to Fennville, Michigan where I still live. Gary and I have a son age 24 and a daughter age 19.
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