My Story: Patsy Walker
Part Three
TITLE: My Story: Patsy Walker – Part Three
AUTHOR: Patsy Walker
PERMISSION to publish granted by the author
Patsy Walker was born on May 16, 1934 in Knoxville, Tennessee. In December of 2024, about eight months after her husband Moe passed away, she wrote to the Wilma Dykeman Legacy and requested a copy of a Knoxville News-Sentinel column which Wilma wrote in 1977, just after Wilma’s own husband had died. “I loved her writings so much,” Patsy wrote, “but the one about [her husband’s] death just spoke to me! I think it has been my favorite love story of all times! I kept the clipping all these years and was devastated to misplace it after my husband’s death.”
As Patsy and the Legacy corresponded, it became evident that she had written down her memories from growing up in northwest Knoxville. The Wilma Dykeman Legacy is proud to publish these memories for the first time in order to enrich the flesh-and-blood history of Knoxville during the mid and late 20th century. The photo is of three sisters: Woot (Mary Lou's nickname) on the left, Patsy in the middle, and June on the right.
“It’s not been an easy life,” says Patsy, “but it’s been a good life."
Sisters
We made a lot of good memories in that house on Clinbrook Avenue. It had only four rooms and a toilet on the back porch. All five sisters [Patsy, June, Woot (Mary Lou’s nickname), Joy, and Linda] slept in the same bedroom until Uncle Jesse enclosed the back porch and built a room for June and me. We were so proud of that room – small, but cozy. He also combined the toilet room and the pantry into one bathroom with a bathtub. When we went to bed, it was our ritual to always say, “Forgive me for everything I’ve said, done or thought that’s wrong.” We said it for so long, it became a jumble of words spoken very quickly, but we knew what it meant.
When Aunt Carmen and Uncle Jesse went for a drive, we girls would chase each other around the four rooms in a circle. We’d run until we were exhausted. Then we’d find other things to entertain us. We liked to dial a random number on the phone, then sing or act crazy. Fortunately, there was no Caller ID service at that time! We were on a party line, and we enjoyed listening in on our neighbors’ conversations. Maybe two or three families had the same number, but different rings: one ring for one family, two rings for another, and three rings for the last family.
Joy was very particular with her clothing. She always folded or hung her dresses, and also lined her shoes up just so. Linda, on the other hand, was a little tomboy. She’d come home with a sash hanging and was bad to crush the heels of her shoes. Sometimes in the car, those two would get in a fuss, and Linda would grab Joy’s dress and just wad it up so it’d be all wrinkled.
We had to ride with four girls in the back seat, so it was pretty crowded all the time. Sometimes the three little ones (Woot, Joy, and Linda) would turn around in the car and make weird faces at the people in the car behind us. We always thought this was so funny.
It was the girls’ duty to set the table and then clean the kitchen. Once I set a platter and tablespoon at June’s place. She didn’t notice until Uncle Jesse said the blessing. Of course I was watching her, and we both cracked up laughing. Uncle Jesse wasn’t too amused!
All of us had long hair which we braided and either wore pigtails when we were younger, or braids pinned on the top of our head. As we grew older, we changed to a bun. We experimented with our hair and would sometimes braid the hair around the edges for a change. Once, when June had her pigtails pinned on top of her head, we were acting silly and barely stuck bobby pins in the braids and left them sticking out all over her head. She forgot about the bobby pins and went to church like that. She was quite embarrassed when she realized what she’d done.
It was a little hard to keep five girls in clean bobby socks. We’d wash our socks at night and hope they’d be dry the next morning. We were particular with our clothes, keeping our saddle shoes and penny loafers shined and polished.
In the early years, June and I were a little mean to the younger sisters. We had a dormer on the roof of our house. When Mama and Aunt Carmen went to town, we’d tell the little ones they were bringing back lots of toys to go in the dormer. They believed us and were disappointed when the adults returned empty handed.
Once June and I had taken Uncle Jesse’s supper to his workplace at the marble mill [Candoro Marble Works, 1914-1982, at the corner of Maryville Pike and Spruce Road]. Aunt Carmen had gone to town that day. Coming home, we decided to throw rocks on the porch and scare the little ones. Well, scare them we did! Woot called Aunt Carmen, who was at Aunt Willis’s house, and told her we were gone and someone was throwing rocks. Aunt Carmen came home in a taxi, and June and I were warped with a package of hamburger Aunt Carmen had bought for tamales. We never pulled that trick again. Also, the girls remember that I would get a switch and twist it in their long hair. Their memory is better than mine on some things. Looking back, I’m sorry for my actions, but I guess I was too bored.
Speaking of tamales, Aunt Carmen made dozens of hot tamales with the help of us girls. We had an assembly line going: Aunt Carmen would mix the tamales, I would wrap the tamales in the papers, and the four younger sisters would tie. Aunt Carmen would cook a kettle of tamales, and it was poor little Wootsie’s job to sell them around the neighborhood. This was in the wintertime, and Woot said she’d warm her hands by putting them in the hot water in the kettle of tamales she carried. She went from house to house selling them. Sometimes it’d be dark by the time she returned home.
The only fight I remember having with my sisters was one morning before school. June and I were home alone, and we were mad about something (neither of us can remember what). Anyway, we went a few rounds, then walked to school together.
During the school year, June and I would always fix breakfast and pack our lunches. For a while we bought lunches, and if I carefully selected my lunch, I could save two pennies one day and three pennies the next day. We could then stop at the store on the way home and buy a nickel treat!
When I went to work at Oak Ridge [as a typist with Union Carbide], I’d leave early and get home late. I found out by accident that June would wear my clothes to work – and the sisters would wear my clothes to school – and replace them by the time I got home. I’d bought myself a pretty beige blouse, brown skirt and beige shoes. One morning I planned to wear this outfit to the office, but when I got up June was at the ironing board with the beige blouse, trying to get an ink stain out. I was pretty furious. A short time later, I wore one of her skirts to the office and made a stain on it. June was not mad at all, but glad that I’d made a boo-boo too. I shouldn’t have been so selfish with my clothes, because I wore theirs to the office!
Since I had taken sewing classes in school, it became my duty to make dresses for all five of us girls. Aunt Carmen would buy several pieces of fabric and, while I sewed, the sisters cleaned the house and ironed. We all had chores to do.
Dating was out of the question. But somehow John Miller managed to win June’s heart, and they eloped (with Aunt Carmen and Granny Miller) and were married in Dalton, Georgia. Needless to say, we (Uncle Jesse and the other sisters) were not too happy to be left in the dark. After June married, Woot and Jack McCarter were married two weeks later. It was more than a year before Moe Walker and I were married.
