Mama Dear

From my earliest memories, she was already old. A very short straight figured woman, her round face wrinkled with time..... and soft blue eyes. It was hard to believe the family photograph of her as a young woman was really her, she had been beautiful.

Now, as I see it, her beauty was inside.... her gentle soul. Her family name was

“Mama Dear”. Given to her by my mother somewhere back in time. And if I introduced her to my school friends or any one, it was still “Mama Dear”. And they would respond “hello Mama Dear” a little startled, but delighted.

Waiting for busses or trains was a good time for me to talk to her one on one as a little boy. Any questions I could think of about sailing ships and her childhood in Ireland.

Her family lived close to the sea and her uncle built racing yachts for rich Englishmen.

She offered my sister and I a lozenge and told us of picnics on small islands covered in green grass and clover. A group of families would row out to the green jewels

dotting their coast. She said it was like a roller coaster ride with the small children nestled down in the bottom of the longboat, and the strong young men pulling at the oars. It didn’t bother her that she couldn’t see over the side..... it was fun.

“Did you come to America on a clipper ship Mama Dear”? I said. “No, she smiled, it was a sailing ship, but not a big one, a cargo and passenger sailing ship, and I stood on the deck in all weather...I love the ocean.” “Mama Dear, when I grow up I’m going to have a clipper ship, and it’s name will be Mary Anne, named after you.” And we would laugh a little as she said, “Oh thank you.” Standing on the platform watching the train approach, I anxiously checked the front passenger window to see if the front seat was vacant and it was. “Hurry Mama Dear, lets sit in front.” So many times before we tried to get that seat, but Mama Dear couldn’t run that fast and we would get there too late and see it being taken by another. The big orange electric train with the words key system on the side came to a stop and the doors shuddered open, there was a rush of people, and after stepping on board I let go of her hand and ran to the front. At last we have the prize seat. Joanie and I sat down, with Mama Dear in the seat behind us. Now we could see the tracks ahead of us leading to the bridge and San Francisco, the operator was to our right in his inclosed cabin. The orange train growled and began moving faster and soon we were on the bridge, the lower span, cars had the top. It was a blur of silver girders flying by the side window. Ahead, shiny ribbons of steel as far as I could see. Standing at the front glass, I looked down and got the shock of my life. It looked like nothing was holding us up! I could see the water far below! I fell back into the seat and looked at the operator, he was calm and we weren't falling. I cautiously stood again and then realized that our speed gave the illusion the railroad ties disappeared. Still it was unnerving looking down at that water 200 feet below.

Two days before the great earthquake, Mama Dear and her family had moved to Oakland, that was fortunate. Even so, Oakland felt the quake too, and in that morning panic, Mama Dear hurriedly dressed as “Daddy Waldie” (my great grand fathers family name ) rushed the children out of their beds to safety. A brick chimney had fallen through the roof of the children's room. Neighbors rushed inside to help if needed Just in time to see Mama Dear coming down the stairs from the bedroom wearing a white blouse and a black skirt with a bed sheet stuck in her waist trailing behind her.