Annie's Top 9 Matches
About Annie Lee Page (Walton)
She said? “I’ll surely never
Perform creative, clever
Things. I’ll be content
With helping to prevent
Hunger, want, and anger,
Fighting, squabbling, and clangor.”
This is what she said,
But she cooked for and clothed and fed
Child and kin and friend.
Her kindnesses, without end,
Were her silent answer
To bad deeds, to Sin’s cancer.
Events of her life were hard:
Serious illnesses jarred;
So did Deep Depression’s bite,
And wars for boys to fight.
Not trying to make any grade,
The kind of life she made,
Serving God, our King,
Was not a little thing!
Almost anyone who knew Annie Lee could echo my sentiments in this poem about her soon after she passed away. I always thought of her as a leader. She and Exum put me to shame for physical laziness. They did not idle, but tried to follow in their work what they considered Papa and Mama meant them to do. I had but one sister, but she was a wonderful person, who made things brighter by looking on the bright side of life. She was the oldest child in the family. I had almost as much awe of her opinions as I had of Mama’s and Papa's. Her being older gave me a strong sense of her superiority, but I should have felt that anyway, for she had not a lazy bone in her body, though all of mine were lazy. She always had much self confidence.
Mama said she was a “growny” child, had a child’s dress that she calmed her “Shirtwaist.” If I had had her self confidence, maybe I would even have been industrious. She was not lazy physically, and did not have to study hard to be an intellectual leader, as far as she went in school. She had some ideas that were over-confident.
I was a little jealous of her, but not jealous enough to get hard to work and finish one job in time to do another or to enjoy a party or something of the kind. Mama had to give us tasks. Mine was washing the dishes; hers was milking the cow. I hated dishwashing. We had hard lime water, which would kill my suds. I’d slosh the dishes around in it and finally call them washed and drag on to school long after the others had walked on, even though being late meant going by Luther Morris’s where his big dogs rushed out barking. I was mortally afraid of the dogs, but not afraid enough to finish my task and walk on when the others did. I was sure that I was tardy at least half the time. I remember being greatly surprised to find on a report card that I had been tardy seven times. I’m still sure I was tardy twice that many times. She was not studious. She said for me just to go on to the next word if I came to one I didn’t know the meaning for in reading. I can’t very well do that. I have worn out about three big dic
tionaries, and bought about four last year, two of which I kept and two I gave for Christmas presents.
Annie Lee and Fab Page married shortly after we finished the house and moved to East Durham.
Before the marriage she had started to attend Meredith College, though without proper preparation. She entered the preparatory department. She did well, but took the measles, and as we said then, “It settled in her eyes.” She decided to come home. She said Dr. R. T. Vann, then president of the college, had told her she could not leave. She was, then, in tears when Papa arrived to take her home; Papa talked Dr, Vann into letting her leave.
One year she taught at Nelson School with Florence Page, then, later Florence P. Muder. She is Fab Page’s sister, and so; Annie Lee's sister-in-law, Annie Lee married Fab.
I was in the school when Annie Lee was teaching in it. If she happened to change rooms with Florence for a while, I’d try to be smart, like asking permission to speak; I’d say, “May I talk?”
I remember an incident of our childhood which illustrated my belief in her superiority. She had a little glass dish for making headmarks in spelling. I thought it was very fine; so I had got it out and played with it. Of course, I broke it and was almost petrified with regret. I got some planks Papa had left from some building and fitted the planks over the andirons. I considered that I’d hidden the glass pieces from Annie Lee.
Mama laughed at me, assuring me that Annie Lee would only find out about the breakage sooner by having it made so much of in the fireplace. Sure enough, almost as soon as she arrived at home from school, she discovered the planks, moved them about, and discovered the broken glass. Mama assured her she would get another for her just as near like that one as she could find. Well, one like it was not enough, and it was a long time before I heard the last of that. I agreed with Annie Lee that one “just like it” was not enough like it, but there was little else that could be done under the circumstances. I still remember just how it looked. Annie Lee and Fab Page married in l9l5.
They farmed tobacco and ran a dairy. After she became unable to milk her part of the cows, they sold out. That was a very painful time for her. They have four girls and a boy. They are Nauwita Barbara, Sylvia Walton, Lenna Ruth, Fallie Doris, and William Gaston. I tell the girls that William hardly has a chance to get a word in edgewise. All Annie Lee’s children are married: Nauwita, to Joe Hogan; Sylvia, to Jim Pittman; Ruth, to Warren Harris; Doris, to William A. Smith, and William, to Jean Coleman, Ruth and Warren Harris’s son, Bobby lost his life in a car accident.
Annie Lee passed away November 29, 1971.
--Beulah Walton in "Some Wake Waltons"