(Born 1929)
Parents: John Abraham Foddrill and Eulah Myrtle Carpenter (“Dute”) Foddrill
Siblings: John Stephen Foddrill
Husband: Robert Dean Jackson (“Bob” or “Jeep”), married June 8, 1951
Children: Scott, Susan Hay, and Jacob (“Jake”)
(Continued from Part II)
Did you come here [to Georgia] to be with your family?
Mm-hmm. I had no one—my husband died on November 8, 2011, and I had one surgery three weeks before he died. Then, I had another one in the spring of 2012, and about that time, I figured, “I cannot do this by myself.” You know, I needed a hug from one of my babies! (Laughs…) Right. And I had wonderful friends, and I had a senior helper who would come to take me to the grocery, doctors, etc.
I got vertigo, so I didn’t dare drive. Then, after the surgeries, I was not very strong either. So, anyway, Jake and Karen (son and daughter-in-law) had found this place (the retirement community) when Bob was still alive. We all kind of saw him starting to go, things not going right, and they tried to get us to come down here. Well, there was no way that he was going to leave his gin rummy buddies—three of them left. This is what happens when you get older: you lose your little group of friends. So I was not going to bug him, and then we found out that he really was ill. There was no way that I was going to take him away… he needed that familiarity, but they had this place all teed up. But they let me make up my own mind… They did not push me into this, but all three children were flying to Indianapolis to check on me—that’s expensive, and they had lives, jobs, and all that… So I thought, “You know, this is the thing to do,” and I couldn’t be happier. Oh, I’m so glad to hear that…
Oh, I’ve got to tell you about my pets. We’ve always had cats, and we’ve had a dog or two. Anyway, when I was a little girl, we’d had mutts, and they were always named “Missy.” Now, I don’t know that they were girls or boys. You know, it never occurred to me. They all lived out in the same doghouse, and they all died of distemper. Yeah, I don’t think there was a veterinarian in Mitchell.
OK, we always had a canary, and his name was Billy. We probably had four or five canaries—all named Billy. Of course, in houses [then], we didn’t have furnaces; you heated with a coal stove. It would get cold at night, and my mother told me (probably when I was forty years old), “Jill, do you know why Billy always died?” because you’d go out, and Billy would be on his back with his little feet all curled up (Laughs…)—dead as can be. She said, “I’d forget to cover him up.” You were supposed to put a cover over their cages at night. For warmth? Oh, yeah… and Mother forgot. For, she’s the one who when the phone would ring, she’d answer the door. (Laughs…) “Now, where did I put the salt and pepper shakers?” “In the refrigerator…” (We laugh even harder…)
Then, we got a Great Dane, and Heidi was just a terror. She was a thief! Back in those days, everybody had clotheslines out in the backyard, and people had those string mops and would hang them over their clotheslines to dry. Well, Heidi would get it, and she’d be coming, marching down the middle of the street with this mop all stretched out like this (shows us an imaginary mop parted and draped over her head)—a great big dog, you know? And she would drag things home, but I just remember the mop!
Were you ever a Girl Scout?
I think scouting is wonderful. I loved it; I just loved it. How long did you stay in scouting? Well, let’s see. Bob Jackson came to Girl Scout Camp to visit me one time when I was a counselor, so it must have been sometime in college because I didn’t meet him until college. Did you start as a Brownie Girl Scout? No, I don’t think they had Brownies then. I was counselor at a regular green Girl Scout thing, which I loved. I loved the singing… Every once in a while, I’d be in bed at night, and I’d wake up (chuckles) and think of Girl Scout songs! Mother and Dad used to pick us up at the end of the camping period, and Charlotte Ann—that’s my grand-dog’s name, too; that was my very best friend’s name who loved to go camping—and we would sing songs all the way home. I think now, “My God, they must have just wanted to pull their hair out!” (Laughs…) Yeah, I love those songs, too.
Did you ever sing “Found a Peanut?” I don’t think so. I don’t remember that one. Oh God! That could go on for hours! We have songs like that, though, like “Baby Shark.” I don’t know if you know that one. No. It just goes on and on, like, “baby shark, mama shark, daddy shark, grandpa shark.” (Laughs…) And then it goes on about a little story about someone swimming, “saw a shark,” and then all these different lyrics and stuff… “Lost an arm, lost a leg…” They just go on and on and on. Yeah! That was the way with “Found a Peanut.” Oh, wait! I know that song, actually. Doesn’t the person choke or something? Well, no… “It was rotten, it was rotten; ate it anyway, ate it anyway; went to the hospital; died anyway, died anyway…” Yes, I know it now! Yes and then “went to heaven” and I think “was on the streets of heaven and found a peanut!” (Laughs…) You could start all over again!
And “Make New Friends But Keep the Old?” We sing that all the time! Oh, I love that… Yep, some are silver, and the others are gold.
I also did 4-H, but not as much. I was not a very good seamstress. (Laughs…)
We used to camp—Bob and I and the children, and we would go to Dale Hollow. It’s a great big lake that’s partly in Kentucky and Tennessee, right on the border. We’d drag our boat down and sometimes would rent a houseboat but sometimes would take a tent and camp. I did with all my Girl Scout recipes—went over lead balloons, toasting bread on an open flame… it did not fly. And I did something… oh! You had your half of your orange and ate everything out. I would break an egg into the empty shell, stick it down the coals, and let it cook… did not fly! (Laughs…) Really? It sounds like a great idea! Yes, and then of course, the coffee can stew was good, but there was always the danger of burning your fingers. So finally, I went to the iron skillet, and we had fried potatoes and hamburgers. Probably all the things your kids wanted to eat! Mm-hmm, and they were good campers.
If it would rain when you were camping, ugh! Three kids paddling around in the mud and then coming into the tent, and we’d have sleeping bags just kind of lined up. I can see how fresh the memory still is! (Laughs…) You have to make the best of it all, don’t you? Oh, it was hard work for the mother! I tell you, it really was. It was much easier to stay home with the dishwasher and running water.
What problems in the world are you concerned about (just in general), and what do you think needs to be done?
Ooh… There are so many problems! If I knew that… You’d be the president! Yeah! (Laughs…) Now, that’s one thing I’ve never wanted to be president of! Everything else, I wanted, and I was. (Laughing and joking still…)
I guess I’m probably just an isolationist, and that just doesn’t work. You cannot be an isolationist in this day and age… but I would that we were. You know—mind our own business, and stay out of my business… worldwise… because I don’t think we’re ever going to be able [to change] (and it will never change)… anything in Iran or Iraq. Those are all their basic beliefs, and they’re never going to adopt our way of thinking no matter how good we think it is. Sometimes, maybe our system’s not the best for somebody else… That’s worrisome, and I just hope that the powers that lead in our country keep hands off. Of course, if they attack us again… It’s hard to stay out, yeah.
And this is what I think these kids have to worry about is it’s much more awesome than Germany and Japan. It was a big old world then; now, it’s just a tight, right-at-your-elbow world, and it’s kind of frightening. But I still think… I’m an ostrich—hide your head in the sand… You know about ostriches? No, not really actually. Well, they hide their heads in the sand, and then they can’t see anything, and they’re sure no one can see them! (Laughs…) So, I play ostrich.
You know, when you’re 84 years old… I’m not going to be handing out a whole lot of advice… I have a wonderful daughter-in-law who every once in a while will say, “That is exactly what I needed to hear!” and here, I’m just aghast. Yeah, they’ve been so good to me; I’m so lucky.
Just in general, how would you define a successful life? It sounds like you’ve had a very successful life; what makes it successful for you? What are you really happy that you did?
Well, I don’t think of it as successful; I think of it as happy. You know, all lives have hills and valleys, and I think that I was lucky enough to have more hills than valleys. And my hills were glorious.
I think probably the best thing that ever happened to me was when I met Bob Jackson (voice rises with excitement). You know, it sounds ridiculous, but he was such a totally nice person, and he just made you… made you happy. I was spoiled rotten! And I really, really adored him.
This is silly, but he hated retiring (he didn’t want to retire), so he did consulting work. He’d go downtown, and he did consulting work with the city. And he’d come home, and I’d hear the garage door go up—now, this was six or seven years ago—my heart would go pitty-pat! I mean we had been married all those years, and I still—I never got tired of being with him. (This is the part where Mrs. Jackson’s voice melted, and my mom and I got tears in our eyes.) He was a sweet man!
And good children… My whole life wasn’t always that happy; my father drank too much, which can be very disruptive in family life. But, uh… so be it. It was what it was, and he was a good provider, generous… My mother was precious. And my grandparents…
So it was a good life, good life, and simple! I think people my age came from simpler backgrounds. I think you guys (looking at me and talking about my generation) just have terrible things to face, and you know, really, things that you just have to think hard about. When I was your age, all I was thinking about was, “I hope I passed my driver’s test” (laughs…), and you obviously are better directed than I ever was. And that’s good; this is good. This is going to make us a better place… But, I wish you could experience the “flabadab” that I experienced because it was… wonderful! (Laughs…)
What advice do you have for us [a younger generation]?
Well, kind of what I just said. And the only thing that really bugs me—and I can tell that you’re not a part of this—is the kids using so many electronic gadgets and that they are not learning to be social because I still think that looking someone in the face and talking to them is a lot better than this (referring to texting, etc.). I don’t email my children; I talk to them on the telephone because I can hear in their voices if there’s something—if they’re not happy. You know, I think that that just makes the complete package. I just think that kids are giving up too much (and not all children).
By and large, just get to know people, and you obviously are doing that. And you’re doing a good job of it. You are just very gracious and at ease and poised; your momma’s done a good job. Aw, you’re very kind. Thank you so much.