A Picture Worth a Thousand Stories

These are my parents, Mary Frances and Jack Draper in their home town of Seaboard, NC. I took this shot on a summer Friday night more than 20 years ago.  I know it's summer because my mom is wearing a sleeveless dress and my dad is (gasp!) in his undershirt. They are sitting at an ancient card table that has seen paint-by-number kits, puzzles, blood thirsty games of Rook and Canasta, and spillover guests from family meals. The table is located next to their console stereo, long-unused, in their den. If you look behind my mom you'll see a door, propped open. The door leads to the hall and just a few steps down that hall is the twisting stairway that leads upstairs, where one can find the behemoth of an attic fan; one so powerful that it is the only reason we survived summers with no air conditioning. You can also see the pine paneling gleaming, all cut and erected by my Dad and his buddy, Bill Davis, when the two of them built the house from the ground up in 1959. 

I also know it is Friday because Mom's hair is "done." Every Friday she got a wash and set. For years she went to the beauty shop in town, and for years afterward, her neighbor (and my good friend) Laura, "did" her hair. The style never deviated and I never saw her wash her own hair. When Laura did Mom's hair, she would call before she arrived and my Dad would wash Mom's hair for her over the kitchen sink. She'd be ready with an old towel draped around her shoulders and a mess of wet hair when Laura arrived  Laura spun silver from gold and Mom was always perfect come Friday night. My Dad always said she needed to sleep standing up so her hair would stay "nice." 

I also know it is Friday because of what Mom and Dad are doing. Mom has a clipping from the Daily Herald of the Roanoke Rapids yard sales scheduled for the following morning. Some are crossed out in Sharpie because they either have the same thing every week or they have nothing my parents are interested in. The best advertised TOOLS! or BOOKS! In the photo, Dad has a list of addresses, written in his now-wriggly but still beautiful handwriting. As a graduate of NCSU in mechanical engineering, a drafting class was required and it always stuck with him.  You can also see a map of Roanoke Rapids. Dad is plotting a yard sale route based on which places look promising and where they are located, because THE EARLY BIRD GETS THE WORM. This is key as they would be up and away at the crack of dawn, in this case, hauling me with them. 

Their introduction to yard sales came from those held by my United Methodist Women's group at Parkwood Methodist in Durham. They would drive up for the weekend and shop the sale. Mom simply wasn't a fan of yard sales at first, in fact she looked down her nose a bit at the prospect of buying used goods. Dad was gung-ho from day one and never flagged in his enjoyment. He and I would bring items over for mom to see while she waited in the car. Finally, after five or six yard sale outings in Durham, Mom's "lightbulb" came on: she could score used books for nickels and dimes! Such an epiphany! She became a zealot, just like Dad and so their Saturday morning ritual began. My sister got in on it too, buying toys and clothes for her young grandchildren. At first my Dad wouldn't haggle. He's say, well, they priced that item, so that's what they want for it. He soon changed his tune and it became "how much will you take for that whole box?" 

A few other observations from this photo: 

•  Mom had a hard time finding summer dresses for wearing around the house and in the garden. So my dad made a pattern from one she liked, loaded up on fabric (which Mom chose), and sidled up to the Kenmore sewing machine and made her ten or more. They had trim around the neck and arms, zippers, pockets, and even a small matching sash.
• Though Dad has on an undershirt, this was only ever worn visibly AT HOME. No God-fearing Southern Man would prance about in his undershirt in public! That would be trashy and common. For years when I was very small, he would wear a button up shirt, necktie, jacket and hat to BUY GROCERIES in Roanoke Rapids. In the photo is  he is also wearing suspenders, which were a necessity after he lost a great deal of weight as a diabetic. Those suspenders, well, they came from a YARDSALE! To be clear, he didn't wear suspenders when going out, but they did keep his too-big work pants in rotation at home. 
• Dad's farmer's tan is still on display, despite having "retired." His forearms are also speckled with welding scars. He welded in the Navy in WWII and continued to weld to keep his farm machinery in repair. 
• The cat is clearly helping. 
• Big Mouth Billy Bass  is prominently displayed. Dad had a quadruple bypass years prior. It was a major surgery and he was struggling a bit in the hospital afterwards. His God-Sent male nurse, bought Billy Bass for him, when they first came out and it gave him a lift like nothing else. I swear I think he survived because of it! 
• The embroidery on the wall was made by my Dad's mom. She was an amazing maker; she made 3 of these, one for each of her children. She was frustrated because she embroidered her 'S" (Smith) backwards when she stitched her initials. My Dad stepped up and claimed that one. Such a sweet gesture. 

My main take-aways from this photograph are partnership, cooperation, and joy. My parents found a hobby they loved to do together and they made it fun. Yard saling was done on the cheap (and my Dad was "conservative" with his money.) It was something they could do with their grown daughters. It usually involved hot coffee and biscuits from Bojangles. They'd get back home a little bit after lunch and my Dad would nap while my mom perused her book haul like a dragon counting her gold. 

They were fun days. And I'm so grateful for them.