Ella vs. the Groundhog

My maternal grandmother was born in 1900, on a farm a few miles from Grundy Center, Iowa. I used to clamor for her stories of "the olden days," and loved to pore over the albums of antique photographs from her growing-up years on her parents' farm. The folks in these old pictures barely looked like real people to me when I was little, with their strange hair-dos and funny clothes. As I grew older, I began to see the humanity shining out of these candid shots, and I felt like I knew these wonderful characters through my grandmother's remembrances. Grandma was tickled that I had such an appreciation for these pieces of history, and before she died she made sure that my mother brought them to me so I could take care of them.

My grandfather was a farm hand on my great-grandfather's farm. Lucas Abels was not pleased when he discovered that the farm hand was secretly courting his daughter. He fired my grandfather, who then left for a while to see the world...or, at least, the mid-west. Grandpa traveled with a small circus as a roustabout, and was a ranch hand in Montana, but he continued to court my Grandma through letters. When my grandfather returned to Iowa, he and my Grandma eloped on Christmas Eve.

When my Grandpa died in 1965, my Grandma found out that he was not the best manager of household funds. She continued to farm for a couple of years before buying a small house in the town of Morrison. But what to do about money? Grandma never lacked self-confidence or an unshakable belief in her abilities. She was accustomed to hard labor through farming. She found jobs painting people's houses, inside and out, and I believe she even painted a barn one time. She was frugal but not stingy, and she believed in doing things for herself. She learned how to plaster walls, lay floor tile, and mix cement so she could patch the foundation of her house. If something needed doing around the house, she did it herself whenever she could.

I remember one visit when I was about ten. She took me out to her backyard and told me to draw a bucket of water from the hand pump. She showed me a hole in the ground, and instructed me to dump the water in the hole when she told me to. She stationed herself at a similar hole about fifteen yards away, and told me to start pouring fast. I don't recall whether I noticed the shotgun she was toting, but I'm sure the groundhog didn't. When he popped up sputtering out of the hole at her feet, he had seen his last glimpse of daylight, and Grandma's flowerbeds were safe once more.

I won't even go into the epic battle with the snake infestation. Just know that the state newspaper picked up the story and dispatched a reporter and a photographer on an 85 mile trip for a feature article. Think old lady versus over 75 snakes. Guess who won?

In the 1980's poor circulation necessitated a leg amputation. Friends and family shook their heads and tut-tutted sadly. "Ella won't be able to live by herself now. She'll have to go into a nursing home." Grandma would have none of that. She continued to live in her little house. The main danger was to others. Grandma was a fast mover, even in a wheelchair or electric buggy, and she ran over toes and knocked people over if they weren't watchful.

She had help, of course; family and friends checked on her daily. Grandma was nearly deaf, so she would unlock her door each morning so visitors could come right in since she couldn't hear them knocking. My Aunt Mary was in a panic one day when she couldn't find Grandma. A thorough search found her in a walk-in closet, standing on the seat of her wheelchair with the wheels locked, replastering a spot on the ceiling.

One time when my mother and I flew out to Iowa for a visit, Grandma confided "I like to watch that Doctor Ruth. But I don't want anyone to catch me, so I lock my door." My mother and I exchanged glances. The volume on Grandma's TV made the windows vibrate. Anyone in town could have told you what was tuned in on Grandma's television just by stepping out their front door.

Grandma is gone now, but I still look to her for inspiration. She met adversity with squared shoulders and a determined chin. Groundhogs, snakes, poverty, amputated leg - none of these could get the best of her. As I face a battle for my health and well-being I try to remember what I learned from Grandma: determination and hard work will see you through rough times, and when people see these qualities in you, they will gladly be there to give you help.