Granny Hart

Oscar and Merphia Hart

 I always knew my daddy's mother as Granny Hart. She was born in 1901 as Merphia Ewing. Merphia married Paul Bryan Quillin in 1919. They had 3 children, one of whom was my daddy, Truman Bryan Quillin, Sr. 

Merphia and Paul divorced in 1940, and she remarried to Oscar Clifton Hart in 1941. Paul Bryan Quillin passed away in 1957. I was born in 1956 so I never knew my grandfather. I always associated Granny Hart with her second husband, Oscar. 

Granny and Oscar didn't live far from us in Vernon, Texas, and that was a place that Mother allowed me to ride my bike to go see them. I was a thrilled to be independent at 8 years old. I loved spending the mornings with Granny. Oscar built me a rabbit hutch, and I rode my bike nearly every day during that process. 

Granny was a special lady. She had a big heart and she gave great bear hugs. I remember her making me chocolate cakes from scratch. It was such a treat and it seemed to please her that I loved these cakes. It is welded in my memory the day that Granny wanted to give me some pottery that she had purchased in Mexico. She was a large lady and she climbed up on the kitchen countertop to retrieve the dishes from the overhead cabinet.  I was horrified when she began to lose balance and I knew perfectly well what was about to happen. I was a tiny child, smaller that most, and there was no way that I could try to keep this from happening. And sure enough, she fell backwards, hitting her head on the kitchen table. She was out cold. I felt so guilty that I couldn't help her. In remembering that fall, I see it in slow motion. I ran next door to get help from the neighbors whom I knew very well. They were able to quickly revive Granny. There were no broken bones, and when they determined that she was okay (which was a miracle), I don't remember much after that.  Later on, though, someone DID get the pottery down, and it was given to me. 

I remember Oscar sitting me down in the living room near the record player and pulling out the old 78 rpm record of "One Day A Time, Sweet Jesus." We would listen to it multiple times. I never knew quite what the reason was at the time, but now as an adult, I can only imagine what he was hoping that I might learn from that song.