Born to a widow and
raised on a small farm
in the Midwest during
the Great Depression,
Pauline Ann Harris, a
beautiful blonde, blue-eyed baby girl,
came into the world
on March 6, 1931.
Her Daddy, Sheldon
Joseph Harris, died a hero’s death
just months before
Pauline was born--her brother Stanley
was only a year old.
Her Grandpa Richard
Henry Werner and
Grandma Pauline Anna
Augusta Hacker Werner, her namesake,
moved in with her
mother Katherine Helen to help raise the
two children.
Grandma told me time
and time again how
Aunt Pauline was the
easier child to raise—
easier than her mischievous,
cantankerous brother Stanley.
Grandpa Werner built
his only granddaughter the most
beautiful play house
in their backyard on Hale Road---
not a doll house, but
a real sturdy kid-sized house
built with 2x4’s with
white siding and dark green shutters
and trim to match the
big house, and big enough for a
little girl to hold
endless tea parties and play school for
hours with her dolls,
most of which she still has.
I drove up to visit
her 5 days ago, knowing it might be the last time,
and could only hold
her hands—her beautiful hands
which looked so much
like Grandma’s hands—
the hands of one who came
from a line of nurserymen.
I think hands tell a
lot about a person—
these were honest
hands, the hands of a woman
most comfortable with
Ohio clay under her nails and
pollen on her
sleeves.
Those hands….those
beautiful leathery not-so-soft hands of a
Woman who was obviously
not a stranger to hard work.
These were the same hands
that grasped her mother’s finger
as a newborn baby.
The hands that
gripped the ropes of the swing,
tugging and swinging
her feet to the sky.
The hands that
grasped the hand of her husband in marriage
And then changed a
thousand diapers—
the cloth kind with
big safety pins.
As I examined her
hands, I noticed the scars,
too many to count, caused
by thorny raspberry and blueberry bushes,
hands that peeled
10,000 potatoes and apples for her homemade pies.
hands that told of a
lifetime spent in the garden and the kitchen...
Gentle hands which
tenderly turned the delicate pages of her
Bible each day since
she learned to read…
She was deeply
religious—in a quiet way.
She practiced the
religion of her mother and her grandparents
for over eight
decades. It was intrinsically a part of
who she was.
She read her
Christian Science Bible lesson every day with the
King James version
and Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures
by Mary Baker Eddy.
She and Uncle Bob sat
in church together every Sunday morning and on Wednesday nights she attended
the Testimony meetings.
She never wore her
religion on her sleeve
nor believed it was
necessary to talk about it.
She was one of a
faithful few whose very life crafted
the most beautiful of
sermons.
Her faith was so
strong that she experienced a
healing of her
eyesight many years after scarlet fever,
cataracts and
glaucoma nearly blinded her.
Pauline rarely ever
wore makeup—
once in awhile a pale
shade of lipstick and powder.
She didn’t need
to. She radiated an inner beauty—
a glow which came
from her innate goodness.
She was one of those
people who always took such
good care of herself
that you just couldn’t tell her age.
She loved exercising
and walking every day.
She and Uncle Bob
even crafted a little gym for themselves in their basement where they could
work out when the weather was bad.
She was so hip that I
remember back in the early ‘80s she even exercised to Jane Fonda and Richard
Simmons’ Dancing with the Oldies videotapes!
When in her early
twenties, she caught the eye of a young engineer—Robert (Bob) Dickey--
they fell in love and
a few months later, 58-years-ago they married and
composed a beautiful
life together.
Aunt Pauline and
Uncle Bob.
We always spoke their
names as though they were one.
AuntPaulineandUncleBob.
One was rarely
without the other.
They raised three
accomplished children, Bob, Tish, and Brian,
and now have four
beautiful grandchildren—
Justin, Jake, Trevor
and Brianne—
all with very
auspicious futures.
Like the woman in
Proverbs 31,
she devoted her life
to her husband and children.
And there was a
rhythm to her life marked by the seasons--—
there was Easter and
planting, picking strawberries,
then blueberries,
raspberries, and freezing and canning
jellies and jams and
pie filling.
There was harvest and
the holidays…
And all through the
year, there was baking….
Lordy! Could she bake—the most delicious pies and cakes
and cookies!
And she knew the true
measure of a dollar and
could stretch it
further than most.
Pauline loved her
brother, my Dad, Stanley Harris.
She called him
regularly even though he wasn’t so great at always reciprocating, and brought
him
a boxful of Christmas
deliciousness—never skipped a year.
She never forgot a
birthday or anniversary of anyone in the family—cousins and nieces, nephews and
in-laws,
and had a talent for
picking out the most perfectly delightful
greeting card often featuring
the Peanuts characters.
Did
you know she loved riding roller coasters--even into her 70s?
Steve
and I will never forget when she and Uncle Bob came down
to
visit us in Orlando and spent an entire day at Disney World.
They
didn’t get back to the house until 11:30 PM—
they
closed down
the
park!
When
we asked how they liked it, she said, eyes twinkling,
“We
rode the roller coasters all day! Wow!”
The
next day they took off for Universal Studios
for
another round of thrill rides! And the
next day Busch Gardens!
And
oh she loved the Cleveland Indians, the Tribe, Chief Wahoo, and
rarely
missed a game—on the radio, on TV, at the stadium.
You
know, the only times I heard anything slip out of her mouth which
wasn’t
a kind and soft-spoken word of affection was when she was
hollering at her
Tribe. And if you were in the next room
and didn’t
know better, you’d think she was having a chat with Rick
Manning
and Andre Thornton! Her
favorite player in the 1940s was Larry Doby,
a black American League
player. She saw no color.
She loved West’s
Orchard and
playing cards with
Dick and Gloria each New Year’s Eve and
annual treks to Salt
Fork State Park and
took great delight in
kissing the blarney stone in Ireland.
She was so brave and
loved life so much that she
wanted chemo even
when her body could no longer tolerate it.
Most recently, she
and Uncle Bob picked up a new hobby—sailing.
I picture her hands gripping
the ropes of the sails, steering under the noonday sun on Lake Erie.---she and
Uncle Bob loved sailing.
Her love for sailing
reminds me of that song by Christopher Cross….
Well,
it's not far down to paradise, at least it's not for me
And if the wind is right you can sail away and find tranquility
Oh, the canvas can do miracles, just you wait and see.
Believe me.
Sailing takes me away to where I've always heard it could be
Just a dream and the wind to carry me
And soon I will be free
And now, she is free……She would want us
to celebrate that….
Steve and I went to
visit her a couple of Saturdays ago.
She was too weak to
sit up, but when it came time for us to
leave,
she pulled herself up
to make room for me to be able to sit next to her.
We hugged and hugged
as I reminded her how much I loved her—
and she said the same
to me. Then we smiled at each other and
she beamed—she was
absolutely radiant. It was Love.
That is what she was
all about.
If I had to sum up
her life in one word it would be LOVE.
What a gift she gave
to all of us—she was a true Proverbs 31 woman,
a saint in pedal
pushers, a polo shirt and sneakers,
an excellent wife, a
loving mother and grandmother,
a woman to emulate.
This is my tribute to
my dear aunt Pauline Harris Dickey,
a friend to many, an
angel to her husband,
her three children, her
grandchildren, and to me.
Copyright 2014, Katherine L. Szerdy
Here you can catch a view of the recently renovated riverfront (Monangahela) and
off in the distance you can see one of the incline railroads.
Lidia did NOT
let us down--although she is not there most days, her presence is felt in the
taste, the presentation, the ambiance, the spirits, the perfection! Best
service EVER!!!!! And not too pricey either! We both agree that it was worth
the two hour drive.
I simply had to stop at Ikea on the way home. I dragged the hubby into the door, but had to
drag him out. J I so wish I could sell all our home furnishings
and start all over with IKEA--such great ideas! Woot! Woot!
