November 18, 1983

THAT’S STRONG

By Edna Burdett DuBose

Have you ever heard the expression, "As strong as all get out"? Yes, I’m sure you have. But, have you ever wondered how strong All Get Out is? Well, believe me, it’s mighty strong. I ought to know. I knew a lady who had a pair. They were shiny bright and brand new. She wore them on Sunday because they were her Sunday Best, and since she didn't have any Monday Best or Any Other Day Best, she wore her All Get Outs on Sunday. In fact, she wore them every Sunday for fifty years. She got so tired of them she didn’t know what to do. So, even though they were still like brand new (they had been branded) , she decided to use them for Every Day Wear. So she did for fifty years.

Oh, how tired she became of them. Every morning, bright and early…maybe I should say dark and early since she got up before the sun did…she would put on her All Get Outs. She wanted to throw them away, but when she looked at them they were still so new looking, she decided to keep on wearing them awhile longer. Which she did for the next fifty years.

She really got tired of them and began to hate them and decided to get rid of them although they still looked as if they had hardly been worn. She packed her nighty and toothbrush along with her All Get Outs in a bag and took a Slow Boat to China. From there she journeyed to the Himalayan Mountains and climbed the highest peak and dropped her All Get Outs over the edge; clambered back down and took the next Slow Boat From China home. In the meantime a good hearted Himalayan Mountaineer found them, and doing his Good Deed for the Day, sent them back to her on a Fast Boat From China. When she got home there was her All Get Outs waiting for her on the doorstep.

She ground her teeth into dust, grabbed up her All Get Outs, and after traveling by train, boat and dog team, she left them on the northern most ice floe where a friendly Eskimo found them. Feeling sorry for them because they looked so forlorn, he sent them back home by Air Mail, and then she found them sitting on the doorstep awaiting her arrival.

Oh! How mad she was! She grabbed up some Red Hot Nails and bit them in two. She grabbed up a Shovel and dug a Hole 500 feet deep and threw in her All Get Outs, but alas and alack, she struck Oil, and it squirted them back upon the open ground at her feet. She heaved a big sigh, picked up her All Get Outs and carried them back into the house, and she has been wearing them day and night ever since. That was forty years ago when Hector was a Pup. He’s an old dog now and about to lose his eyesight, and she is too; I mean she is about to lose her Eyesight.

The gist of the matter is this: when you say, "As strong as All Get Out," have a care because that’s mighty strong. And, how about the lady who wears them?

"Once Upon a Birthday",

by Paul Philip DuBose

In 1938 Edna Maxine Burdett DuBose became pregnant with her third child. Dr. Barns estimated the time for delivery and told my mother she would have a birthday present the following year. And, just as promised, Ellen Maxine DuBose was born February 15, 1939, at home, on my mother's birthday; the little girl she had always wanted, a grand and glorious birthday present.

As time passed, birthdays were not significant in our family, but there is one I will never forget. This one was far from being grand and glorious. My mother was 73 and had been admitted into the hospital for bypass surgery. "As I walked along side her as she was wheeled into the operating room that morning, I remember that I had the weirdest feeling inside me that I have ever had. It was extremely strange and distressful as I realized that my mother was going in for serious surgery on my birthday. Late in the evening each of us went into the recovery room to see her, even though she was still unconscious. I was very apprehensive, but went home as suggested. An hour later we were called to return. My mother had been rushed back into surgery to stop post operative bleeding. She did not survive and died on my birthday, December 16, 1986.

_Told by Dorothy Louise, Edna's sister, April, 2001

BY Cecelia Greene Wofford ("Corky")

I had to go to Gatlin’s Go For Cash for something one day. I decided to stop and see Aunt Edna. Ellen was mowing the yard. She told me Aunt Edna was in the house. I knocked on the door, and Aunt Edna told me to come in, that she was in the bedroom. When I went in she was in bed. She had big angry red welts on her chest. She had been doing a portrait for a couple who were doctors. She was using pastels, and evidently she was allergic to them. She said she would have to stop using them because when she drew pictures she did whatever it took to get the results she wanted. Sometimes she used her fingers to blend the colors; sometimes she would use her elbow or her arm. That way she got the dust all over her. I thought what a shame she wouldn’t be doing any more portraits. She had such a talent for getting people’s likeness.

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November 18, 1983

This story was told to me by Aunt Thelma to be included in the 1995 Burdett family newsletter which was in her honor... REATHA J ALBURY

THE BULLY

One Sunday afternoon, Edna, Dorothy, Billy, Bud and I had gone into the woods to play. About two or three o’clock in the afternoon, we decided to return home as we were famished. On our way, we encountered the neighborhood bully, who was a large, red-headed, freckle-faced boy. As I was always a clown, naturally I had to sing out; "Red headed, gingerbread, five cents a cabbage head," thinking I had said it low enough so he couldn’t hear me. He turned toward us and said, real smarty, "Who said that?" Edna said she had done it. "No! you didn’t!" he said as he made a move toward me like he was going to beat me up. A lively discussion followed. I guess he thought he could handle four girls and a little boy. I got behind Edna as he came over to where we were standing. All of a sudden, Edna bent over and ran right into his stomach with her head, which knocked him to the ground. He was so surprised that he just sat there for a minute or two. All of a sudden, he got up and started running to his house yelling, "MAAAAAA MAAAAA!!!" I just knew his mother was going to come to our house and have all of us thrown in jail.

November 18, 1983

WHEN EDNA DREW THE LINE

When Edna was about ten years old she was taking care of a couple of children. A neighborhood boy hit one of her kids over the head with a heavy glass Coca Cola bottle. Edna beat the neighbor boy up and sent him home crying. His father marched back to Edna's, and she (remember she was about ten) grabbed a stick and used it to dig a line in the sand. Then she dared the man to cross the line and told him, "Now you just stand there because I want to tell you what your son did." The man stood where he was, and Edna told him about the Coke bottle. He went home and whipped his boy for hitting the smaller boy.

_Told by Dorothy Louise, Edna's sister, April, 2001