Monday Musings-Mamaw & Papaw tribute

People who willingly raise and cherish children who have no family to care for them, through death or otherwise, are special. My Mamaw and Papaw Brown were those people. I think Daddy didn't really appreciate them until he had rebelled a little, marrying far too young against their wishes, and then fully realized what a heavy responsibility marriage and family could be. I wrote the below piece a number of years after they had gone to their well-deserved rest. Without them in my life and my siblings' lives, I doubt we would be the people we are today.

'Alabamer' Time 

The concept of time intrigues me. I worked as a long distance operator for the telephone company for years. Minutes and seconds were the stuff of my job. Those were the days when that 'voice with a smile,' a live operator, came in on a long distance call after sixty seconds with, "You've talked one minute." Accurate timers told us when to do so, but after a while, we hardly needed them. To this day, I am able to estimate the passage of time with a good deal of accuracy.
     My fascination with time may have been birthed in the fact that my grandparents kept their clocks set on 'Alabamer' time, as we called Central Standard Time. They lived in rural Haralson County, Georgia, which was (and is) in the Eastern Standard Time zone. After Daylight Savings Time was introduced in the late 'forties, their clocks were right at least half the year, since they would never 'spring forward' or 'fall back.' Why they chose to live on Central Standard Time is a mystery, at least to me. If Daddy knew the reason, he kept it to himself.
     Mamaw and Papaw lived their entire lives in the state of Georgia, never even crossing the line to Alabama, or any other neighboring state. In his many job changes, Daddy did move his family to Alabama and back to Georgia three times before I was ten years old. Possibly my grandparents felt closer to him, their only son, and us grandchildren, if their time matched ours and that's when they started keeping their clocks set slower than the prevailing hour around them. Such sentimentality seems a little out of character for a hard-working couple who farmed all of their lives, rooted and grounded in Georgia's rich, red dirt. But deeply caring parents that they were, it's possible.
     In time my grandparents retired from farming and Daddy moved them to an apartment in town. By then I had married, moved to Tennessee, and begun my unique operator's bond with the ticking clocks of life. I'm sure they continued their custom and died a few years later, as they had lived, on 'Alabamer' time.
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