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Sat. Jun 01, 2002

In Memory: Cora Lee Hinton Stott, 1908-2002

In Memory: Cora Lee Hinton Stott, 1908-2002
On July 16, 1927, the day before her 19th birthday, Cora Lee Hinton (born July 17, 1908) married a man almost 12 years older than her, Eddie Milton Stott. Eddie and Cora Lee led the classic American life of that era, proto-Americans of the 1900’s. Eddie was the eldest of ten children, fought in WWI, and his father having passed away earlier, he was left in charge of the family’s considerable farm property. After a couple of years of marriage, Eddie and Cora Lee had one son, Herbert Lee Stott, born October 30, 1929 … the day after ”Black Tuesday.”

As was true for most farm families, the Depression was devastating, and by 1932, the family farm was gone. Eddie took jobs managing large farms in Garner and Fayetteville, North Carolina, and they struggled through. America was the epitome of Nietzschism in those days, and that which didn’t kill them made them stronger. In the end, they survived well.

How do I know these things? Herbert Lee is my father. Cora Lee was my grandmother, and she passed away Saturday at the age of 93.

From my Dad’s written recollection of his early years:

· We had an upright piano which my Mother played. I remember sitting under the keyboard against the lower sound board beside the foot pedals to listen to it.

· We raised chickens and every day Mom and I would go out in the backyard and gather the fresh eggs from the hen nests. One day a snake had entered the hen nests and had swallowed whole eggs, resulting in a lumpy body, and Mom was considerably upset.

· During the Depression years, you had to grow, harvest and store your own food because you could not afford to buy anything else. It was a very frequent routine in the afternoons for Mom and I to go to the pond, get into a wooden boat, paddle up the lake and catch a mess of fish for supper. We raised all the other needed ingredients. Corn which Dad ground into corn meal. Lard to fry the fish in was from the hogs we killed every fall and cooked down the fat trimmings for the lard. Cole slaw from the cabbage that we grew. Mayonnaise made from our cow’s milk. Cornbread from the cornmeal was mixed with onions which we grew and fried in the lard with the fish. That was good eating.

After a serious heart attack in the 50’s, Granddaddy retired, and with my parents, went in on a trailer at Atlantic Beach, North Carolina. Cora Lee and Eddie spent most of their summer’s there, specifically at a place called Sportman’s Pier. Granddaddy spent his days at the end of the pier, and set area records for tarpon and kingfish, caught a 500 pound hammer head shark, and once, even a huge sea turtle. Grandmother caught her share as well, but she spent her time supplementing their income by working in the tackle shop at the foot of the pier.

From the ages of about seven to ten, this is the magical environment in which I spent much of my summers. The now inconceivable freedoms of a child in the innocent 60’s, left to ramble alone on the beach, and up and down the pier. Mr. Bradley owned the pier, and had a son near my age, David, who now owns the pier. I’m sure for him as well, those freedoms seem so long ago, but I associate those times with my grandparents. Sun, water, and endless adventure (like finding a $5 bill on the beach, and revelling in richness). The perfect summer of childhood.

Granddaddy was fun to hang out with, but he was a focused man, and as you might imagine, I could be a handful. Rather than get distracted by some 7 year old who looked as if he was going to fall over the pier rails while watching Grandpa ”work,” Grandpa would tie the 7 year old to a light post and finish his big catch.

The now very indignant 7 year old would eventually be calmed by Grandmother at the other end of the pier, by reaching into the ice box and pulling out a sparkling emerald green bottle of a then brand new product called Mountain Dew. I often collected empty bottles for the deposit money so I could buy my own Mountain Dew, but Grandmother usually saw to it I didn’t do without. In many ways.

As a child, you seemed to have an innate sense of when people really cared about you, a sense that maybe loses some power as we age, and there was no doubt my Grandmother loved me, just as there was no doubt she was not a woman to be trifled with or angered. Like all grandparents, she was destined to spoil her grandchildren, but with Grandmother, it wasn’t a total ”given.” Do your part, follow the rules, and you would be both spoiled and stuffed within an inch of your young life. But if you didn’t pull your weight or play by the rules….

1968. Summer of Love. The beach. Surfers. Hippies. Comin’ into the tackle shop and restaurant to hang out, or play pool or pinball. And Grandmother. You can imagine. To this day, every time I hear ”Satisfaction” by the Rolling Stones, I think of her. It was that summer it was a hit, and every time some hippie-type played it on the jukebox, it grated her every nerve. She just detested that song. And didn’t hesitate to go over and turn down the jukebox whenever it got to be too much.

But most of whatever sternness I saw from her was related to work. She worked hard, and didn’t see any reason why those around her shouldn’t, too. That often included me. Much of this work was related to food. Snappin’ string beans and the like. She could cook two modern women under their mini-breakfast bars, and never touch the microwave. At a holiday full-dining-room-table-with-two-leaves and three-card-tables sit-down-southern-feast, all in attendance would eat until they felt they would never be fully vertical again, yet Grandmother would lament about all the food she’d cooked that was leftover. There would be guilt induced seconds for all.

And you better save room for the chess pie.

Nearly every time I came to visit, as he slowly savored his piece, my Granddaddy would tell me, ”Boy, I’m glad you came. I never get chess pie except when you come to visit.”

Grandmother, from the kitchen: ”Oh, Ed, hush.”

In July 1977, Cora Lee and Eddie celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary, at a nice reception thrown by my parents. Not long after, an article appear in the Raleigh Times, April 2, 1979, with the headline, ”Pure Gold: Long marriages run in the family”

When William and Evelyn Stott of Wendell celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary last week, they were in pretty good company. Two other Stott brothers and their wives have hit the 50 year mark. A third will celebrate his golden anniversary next year.

Together they represent over 200 years of marriage.

What do the Stotts acknowledge as the secret to a lengthy marriage? [...] ”It takes a lot of give and take,” said Cora Lee Stott, wife of the oldest brother, Eddie. She laughed and added, ”If you asked my husband, he’d say it’s because he always has the last word – ’Yes, ma’am’ ”

Eddie passed away in 1984 after 56 years of marriage on this Earth. He’s buried at the Bethelhem Baptist Church outside Raleigh, where he was very involved, and Cora Lee was the organist for over 10 years.

This week, after 18 years apart, they will be reunited on this Earth, as Cora Lee is buried at his side at the Bethelhem Baptist Church. But my only solace for now, and for my Dad as well, is that Eddie and Cora Lee are already together again. They’re just waiting for us to catch up.

I miss you Grandmother. But I know I’ll see you again someday, and I expect you’ll have some chess pie waiting.