91 And Still Kicking Hard …

She’s been called Mama, Nene, Annette, Granny, GG … and, perhaps most accurately, The Warden.

This lady who has never really looked out for herself seems always to be looking out for everybody else.  Especially family, which includes her eight sisters and one brother – of whom only four still survive.  But Mama Huguley is still kicking … and kicking hard.  She intentionally has slowed down some, mostly so she can watch tennis and golf on TV, but her mind has not skipped a beat.

As Mama, she kept an eagle eye on her brood of five as they were growing up.  Once marched into the principal’s office at Eau Claire High School to take sides with one of her children in a dispute with a sassy teacher.  The principal got the point. At the end of the school year, the teacher got the boot.  When that little episode was over, Mama didn’t mention it again.  No need to talk it up or brag or spread the word. Why bother; just get on with life.

As Mama, she was firm – perhaps putting it lightly.  Her children didn’t necessarily appreciate her bluntness as teenagers, but they always understood the difference between right and wrong.  It was kinda like, “Let me set you straight on something …” and then came the lesson.  The unadulterated truth.  The gospel.  Not surprising that her five kids stayed on the straight and narrow.  Still do.

As Nene, the name she was called by her Greek sisters, she excelled in school, studied nursing, and even won a silver cup as a ping pong champion.  She, her brother and seven sisters survived a devastating tornado in 1938 that wiped out the family grocery store on Rutledge Avenue in Charleston, S.C.  Her parents, the first Greek immigrants to be married in Charleston – as evidenced by “No. 1” on their marriage license – didn’t flinch.  Rousso’s Grocery was rebuilt replete with living quarters above for the large family.

As Nene, she must have inherited her grit from her Dad, called Pappoo by the huge extended family.  Once a week, Pappoo would take his small boat out into the Atlantic Ocean, alone, to fish – at age 81.  Then he would go back to Rutledge Avenue, swig his daily toddy and take his nap.

As Annette, in her late teens she ran around with Johnny Huguley, who lived a block away on Race Street.  They married, thought it would be clever to name their boys Tom, Dick and Harry, which they did, although they had Susie and Debbie before finally getting Harry.

As Annette, she held the family together as my Dad worked hard and long to provide for the family of seven.  No complaints from her when they moved from Charleston to Florida, back to Charleston, then to Columbia for more moves from Mountain Drive to Lincoln Street to Park Street to Highlawn Avenue (later named Margrave Road) and then to Ridgeway.  Two bedrooms, one bathroom, family of seven … no complaints.  Cramped but happy times – youth baseball and softball and basketball teams, church on Sundays, rides back to Charleston, trips to the beach, ice cream cones on the weekends and a big Christmas every year.  We certainly had everything we needed and didn’t know what we didn’t have.

As Granny, she adores her grandchildren. As GG, she adores her great grandchildren.  She regularly rotates family pictures on her den shelves, careful to treat everybody the same.  It would not be like her to have a favorite.  She will tell you that each one is her favorite.  She loves her own suite at daughter Debbie’s home in Blythewood, and she still drives – sometimes long distances.  Debbie and hubby Joe, by the way, have free passes to Heaven for – 25 years ago – eliminating questions about the future before they arise for the family.

And, The Warden?  Well, some friends of her children stuck that label on her many years ago.  Her disciplinarian nature is the source.  In earlier years she could be fairly direct, let’s say, so there could be no mistaking her message.  Like, don’t mess with my kids.  Or, do as I say do, not as I do. Or, when I say curfew is 11 o’clock, I mean 11 o’clock.  Plain and simple.  I think my mother sorta likes being called The Warden.

So, on January 13, 2018, The Warden celebrated her 91st birthday.  During a telephone call, she told me she feels pretty good for someone who’s beginning to get old.  She asked about her grandchildren and great grandchildren – always deflecting attention away from herself.  Then she told me she would be making another drive from Blythewood to Charleston soon to take her 99-year-old sister to a doctor’s appointment.  There would not be even an attempt to talk her out of it.

After all, she said, she is eight years younger than her sister.  And, at 91 she’s still kicking hard.