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"The next thing,” she continued, "is being ready. Nothing so distracts a hostess as thinking of all the things she hasn't finished. Of course, last minute trials do occur, like plumbing problems, but you can turn that into a funny story, if you don't over-do it."
Being prepared was essential. I'd long observed planning sessions between my mother and aunt with pencils and paper in hand. Aunt Bern organized every detail of any party. There was nothing she overlooked or lett to chance.
The parties were of all kinds: ladies' luncheons, teas at which young girls were asked to assist, dinner parties for a few guests with an impeccably set table, summer suppers with the dining and living room filled with card tables covered with colorful linen cloths.
Aunt Bern also had lots of experience in party giving in the state capital, Tallahassee. Her husband was for many years the President of the State Senate and slated to run for Governor and then U.S. Senate. However, in both instances a good friend persuaded Uncle Stuart to step aside for his, the friend's, candidacy. Uncle Stuart then served as attorney to the Governor's cabinet. Following the stint in the state capital, my aunt and uncle returned to their home in De Funiak Springs. Uncle Stuart then was appointed circuit court judge.
At none of these occasions, whether in our hometown or the state capital, when my aunt and uncle were hosts, was alcohol served; yet, there was always much laughter and sociability. With Aunt Bern's gracious and witty manner, every guest felt special and even shy persons became confide; and charming under her spell.
As one approached her home for evening parties, lights inside and out were brightly welcoming. Once indoors, the beauty of flowers and subtly tantalizing aromas from the kitchen combined with Aunt Bern's powerful personality to let you know you were in for a wonderful time.
As one approached her home for evening parties, lights inside and out were brightly welcoming. Once indoors, the beauty of flowers and subtly tantalizing aromas from the kitchen combined with Aunt Bern's powerful personality to let you know you were in for a wonderful time.
Young girls, who were asked to help at Aunt Bern's teas, learned a great deal about social form. Some of us were assigned to help her greet the guests, some to show them where they could leave coats, others to direct them out an exit so that incoming and outgoing traffic would not interfere with the order of the party or create a sense of confusion. Still others of us served the guests or took their plates. Young girls, of course, never actually held the honored position of pouring at the tea table. We were just colorful, though essential, assistants.
Rebecca, the long time cook, was in charge in the kitchen with whatever extra help she needed. Those of us who were serving knew not to interfere with Rebecca's judgment in refilling serving trays of delectable little
sandwiches and petits fours. Or to try to do this ourselves. Again, there was to be no confusion on who was to do what. One knew too that Rebecca never wasted time in small talk.
Once I dared to question Rebecca about the quantity of food she had prepared. “Honey,” she responded quickly and positively. “It's like I tell ‘em at my church. If you're gonna have a tea or a supper, do it right. Ain't no usé havin’ a party atall if you're gonna scrimp. Puts a damper on the whole thing. Do it right, or don't do it. Miss Bernice and I agree on that."
A party from Rebecca's perspective was serious business. Miss Bernice played her role. Rebecca and all others involved attended to theirs.
If any young person, or for that matter an older one, did not fulfill well her assigned task, she was not again asked to assist. No words of censure were ever uttered. All were graciously thanked, but privately family members heard Aunt Bern's accurate assessment. She was an astute observer of human behavior.
Dinner parties of eight to ten persons were also to proceed with smooth graciousness; therefore, Aunt Bern had a buzzer installed under the table at precisely where her right foot would be. By this means those in the kitchen, two rooms away, could be summoned without my aunt's leaving the table or any interruption in the conversation.
Once when the furniture had been moved in order for the carpet to be cleaned, neither carpet nor table and chairs were returned exactly to their places. Unlike the efficiency with which the household was usually run, there was some slip-up. And no one noticed this slightly different arrangement.
The story told was that the dinner was proceeding nicely when the maid helping with serving began to appear every few minutes. Each time Aunt Bern would shake her head and the server would leave. After this had been repeated several times, Rebecca herself entered the dining room and not too sotto voce in my aunt's ear exclaimed in exasperation, "M_s Bernice, if you don't keep your foot off that buzzer we will never get any work done. Why don't you tell Ruby what it is you want?"
Aunt Bern was non-plussed for a minute and then surmised that the long legged man on her right must be placing his foot on the buzzer. "Why, Rebecca,” she calmly responded, "I'm sorry. I just wanted everyone to greet the good cook who prepared this dinner." With that Rebecca received compliments and Aunt Bern retreated with her to the kitchen, returning with a small silver bell, which she could control.
The gentleman guest never knew he was causing a problem. I cannot if they somehow disconnected the buzzer or stuffed paper around it to its sound, but I do know that Aunt Bern retained the quick-witted Which made her parties special.
Rebecca, the long time cook, was in charge in the kitchen with whatever extra help she needed. Those of us who were serving knew not to interfere with Rebecca's judgment in refilling serving trays of delectable little
sandwiches and petits fours. Or to try to do this ourselves. Again, there was to be no confusion on who was to do what. One knew too that Rebecca never wasted time in small talk.
Once I dared to question Rebecca about the quantity of food she had prepared. “Honey,” she responded quickly and positively. “It's like I tell ‘em at my church. If you're gonna have a tea or a supper, do it right. Ain't no usé havin’ a party atall if you're gonna scrimp. Puts a damper on the whole thing. Do it right, or don't do it. Miss Bernice and I agree on that."
A party from Rebecca's perspective was serious business. Miss Bernice played her role. Rebecca and all others involved attended to theirs.
If any young person, or for that matter an older one, did not fulfill well her assigned task, she was not again asked to assist. No words of censure were ever uttered. All were graciously thanked, but privately family members heard Aunt Bern's accurate assessment. She was an astute observer of human behavior.
Dinner parties of eight to ten persons were also to proceed with smooth graciousness; therefore, Aunt Bern had a buzzer installed under the table at precisely where her right foot would be. By this means those in the kitchen, two rooms away, could be summoned without my aunt's leaving the table or any interruption in the conversation.
Once when the furniture had been moved in order for the carpet to be cleaned, neither carpet nor table and chairs were returned exactly to their places. Unlike the efficiency with which the household was usually run, there was some slip-up. And no one noticed this slightly different arrangement.
The story told was that the dinner was proceeding nicely when the maid helping with serving began to appear every few minutes. Each time Aunt Bern would shake her head and the server would leave. After this had been repeated several times, Rebecca herself entered the dining room and not too sotto voce in my aunt's ear exclaimed in exasperation, "M_s Bernice, if you don't keep your foot off that buzzer we will never get any work done. Why don't you tell Ruby what it is you want?"
Aunt Bern was non-plussed for a minute and then surmised that the long legged man on her right must be placing his foot on the buzzer. "Why, Rebecca,” she calmly responded, "I'm sorry. I just wanted everyone to greet the good cook who prepared this dinner." With that Rebecca received compliments and Aunt Bern retreated with her to the kitchen, returning with a small silver bell, which she could control.
The gentleman guest never knew he was causing a problem. I cannot if they somehow disconnected the buzzer or stuffed paper around it to its sound, but I do know that Aunt Bern retained the quick-witted Which made her parties special.
Holiday dinners and special occasions to which the whole family was invited were also sparkling happy times. The same attention to good food, lovely table decoration and service was present. Aunt Bern's menus at all dinners featured simple, but extraordinarily delicious fare. Chicken, roast beef, turkey or ham were always cooked to perfection. Vegetables had no exotic sauces, nor were they overcooked as in so many Southern households. Desserts were elegant and luscious. Aunt Bern enjoyed baking and no one would ever forget her several-layered Lady Baltimore cake with raisins, nuts and coconut filling midst white icing, or the rich and smooth Devil's Food cake, or beautiful parfaits of fruit with ice cream and whipped cream made unique by her creativity. Hot breads so essential to every Southern meal were unfailingly perfect. Rolls were Aunt Bern's specialty. Biscuits and cornbread were Rebecca's.
I don't recall the occasion. Perhaps Aunt Bern invented it for the pleasure of the family. I do recall the story about the ill-gotten ham, because I was present.
At a mid-day meal, which the family was enjoying with wonderful smoked ham, one person after another made comments like, "I believe this is the best ham I've ever eaten.“
“It's been a long time since I've tasted anything so good.”
"Bernice, everything is delicious."
I noticed that Aunt Bern kept deflecting this and changing the subject. All of a sudden my mild-mannered uncle-in-law, always dressed in coat and tie for meals, looked straight at Aunt Bern and asked, “Bernice, where did you get this ham?”
Aunt Bern sought to evade the question with a lighthearted laugh and "1 tell you later, Stuart.”
Now, my uncle suspecting something amiss, and also knowing the area s choicest supplier of hams, put down his napkin with emphasis and said in cool measured tones, "Bernice, did this ham by any chance come from Jeb ilson's farm?" His usually warm blue eyes looked steely. Everyone was n and very still. Uncle Stuart's anger was something we rarely observed.
I don't recall the occasion. Perhaps Aunt Bern invented it for the pleasure of the family. I do recall the story about the ill-gotten ham, because I was present.
At a mid-day meal, which the family was enjoying with wonderful smoked ham, one person after another made comments like, "I believe this is the best ham I've ever eaten.“
“It's been a long time since I've tasted anything so good.”
"Bernice, everything is delicious."
I noticed that Aunt Bern kept deflecting this and changing the subject. All of a sudden my mild-mannered uncle-in-law, always dressed in coat and tie for meals, looked straight at Aunt Bern and asked, “Bernice, where did you get this ham?”
Aunt Bern sought to evade the question with a lighthearted laugh and "1 tell you later, Stuart.”
Now, my uncle suspecting something amiss, and also knowing the area s choicest supplier of hams, put down his napkin with emphasis and said in cool measured tones, "Bernice, did this ham by any chance come from Jeb ilson's farm?" His usually warm blue eyes looked steely. Everyone was n and very still. Uncle Stuart's anger was something we rarely observed.
Aunt Bern, who seldom flinched, appeared a little unnerved as she began her explanation. However, in a firm voice, she replied, “Well, Stuart, Mr. Wilson did come by. The poor man kept insisting I take the ham. I thought he might break down and cry if I didn't, so I accepted. Besides, I thought if you didn't know where it came from, it couldn't matter.”
With that Uncle Stuart, a very dignified circuit court judge, stood up. “You know that I have a strict rule about never accepting gifts. I'm trying a case involving that man's son beginning next Monday. It may be too late to get another judge to come in for that date. If so, I will just have to postpone the trial until I can find a judge.” Then, in his courtly manner, he said, ‘Ladies, please excuse me," and left the table. We heard him get his hat from the hall closet and walk out of the house, meal unfinished.
Everyone had stopped eating. With a wave of her hand, Aunt Bern said, “You all please continue eating. It can't hurt you to eat it." Then, she removed the ham from the table, taking it to the kitchen. When she returned, she happily reported, “Rebecca is delighted to take the ham home. Stuart won't have to see it again.” As far as I know, the situation was never mentioned again between them.
In the early 1960s when I was deeply involved in civil rights efforts and my social consciousness raised to its height, I remarked to Aunt Bern that parties seemed a wasteful expenditure of time and money with so many societal ills to be corrected.
Aunt Bern appeared incredulous. “My dear,” she replied, “how could you not know that most of the world's important business, whether city, state, national or international, is conducted at social gatherings. People begin to see one another in a more favorable, cooperative light. They become friends. They usually decide they can accomplish things together. Parties are Very important not only to move the society along, but for the much needed spice we all need to life." She paused and added, “Mercy, how dull life would be without the entertainment of parties.”
My dear aunt, never offended by poorly chosen comments from her niece, then added, "By the way, honey, how much longer will you be visiting? We need to have some sort of party in your honor before you return to California."
With that Uncle Stuart, a very dignified circuit court judge, stood up. “You know that I have a strict rule about never accepting gifts. I'm trying a case involving that man's son beginning next Monday. It may be too late to get another judge to come in for that date. If so, I will just have to postpone the trial until I can find a judge.” Then, in his courtly manner, he said, ‘Ladies, please excuse me," and left the table. We heard him get his hat from the hall closet and walk out of the house, meal unfinished.
Everyone had stopped eating. With a wave of her hand, Aunt Bern said, “You all please continue eating. It can't hurt you to eat it." Then, she removed the ham from the table, taking it to the kitchen. When she returned, she happily reported, “Rebecca is delighted to take the ham home. Stuart won't have to see it again.” As far as I know, the situation was never mentioned again between them.
In the early 1960s when I was deeply involved in civil rights efforts and my social consciousness raised to its height, I remarked to Aunt Bern that parties seemed a wasteful expenditure of time and money with so many societal ills to be corrected.
Aunt Bern appeared incredulous. “My dear,” she replied, “how could you not know that most of the world's important business, whether city, state, national or international, is conducted at social gatherings. People begin to see one another in a more favorable, cooperative light. They become friends. They usually decide they can accomplish things together. Parties are Very important not only to move the society along, but for the much needed spice we all need to life." She paused and added, “Mercy, how dull life would be without the entertainment of parties.”
My dear aunt, never offended by poorly chosen comments from her niece, then added, "By the way, honey, how much longer will you be visiting? We need to have some sort of party in your honor before you return to California."
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