Today, September 17, marks the 125th anniversary of the birth of my grandmother, Marjorie Fowler Ludwick. When I was young my grandma came to live with us. I would visit her in her sitting room. Sometimes I just sat there as she read to keep her company. As I got older and more interested in genealogy I did my best to get her to tell stories about her family. Some I remember, while others are faint images.
Marjorie was born in 1894 to Charles and Lydia Zollars Fowler, in the small town of Smithfield, PA, located in Fayette County, south of Uniontown. Charles and Lydia already had six girls and Charles very much wanted a son. Instead, Marjorie was their seventh daughter. Marjorie mentioned her father Charles was so disappointed he had another girl that she wasn’t named for almost a year. She lived in Smithfield until about the age of 8 when the family moved to Uniontown where her father worked as a carpenter.
I never sensed that Charles was a loving father, but one who demanded respect. My grandma told me she had a friend who stayed over at her house, probably when they were late teenagers. In the morning Marjorie and her friend came down to breakfast in their pajamas with robes on. Charles in his stern way announced that they needed to go back upstairs, dress properly, and that everyone at the table would wait for breakfast till they returned. They hurried upstairs to dress and as quickly made their way back down so breakfast would not get cold on their account.
Marjorie graduated from Uniontown High School in 1912. Before she married, Marjorie worked in a photography studio, and also as a telephone operator for Tri-State Telephone Company. In 1917 she wed William Ludwick; they resided in Youngwood PA, where Marjorie spent most of her married life. They lived in Greensburg for a short time before William died. Marjorie eventually moved in with us and became “my best girl”. In some ways we were like Patrick and Auntie Mame.
My grandma, though perceived to be set in her ways, was a lot of fun. In home movies she often is laughing while the camera rolled, and my dad even nicknamed her giggles. When I was with my grandma, we usually found something amusing. When I was about eight years old I wanted to spend the night for a sleep over with her so I packed an overnight bag and went upstairs. When it was time for bed we turned off the light, but kept talking about what I have no idea. Whatever it was though, it made us laugh. We kept talking and laughing until my mom told us to keep it down and go to sleep.
Marjorie was kind and generous. One time a friend and I were going to go to the store to buy something, perhaps candy, and I needed a quarter. I said to my friend, “I’ll ask my grandma for a quarter.” I quickly added, “She’ll probably give me two.” I called down the hall to my grandma, asking her if I might have a quarter for the store. Sure enough, she came out with two quarters for me!
I do not think grandma ever imagined how long she would live. When I was younger, I would ask her what she wanted for birthdays or Christmas. Often her reply was, “I might not be here then.” To which I replied, “Who are you going visit on your birthday,” or whatever holiday it might be. As I got older, I gave her yellow roses for her birthday, one of her favorite flowers.
We palled around at home until I learned how to drive. After I got my license we would go shopping at a store or out to eat at a restaurant. She was active in her 70s and 80s, and exercised with sit ups or walking around the block. When she was older and in her 90s, she lived with my uncle for a short time. I would drive up to see her and we had our routine of stores to shop and we would dine at Eat ‘N Park before I took her back. Now, she was much slower, needing to use a cane to get around. I’ll never forget sitting in the car, about to go in a store and Marjorie saying, “You see that field over there. Oh how I wish I could just run through it.”
After her second hip broke and she ended up in a nursing home; I by chance had a part time job that was in close proximity. I would stop in a few times a week to sit and visit with her, and take her outside or to some area of the home where we could sit and talk. We almost always had something to talk about. I’d let her know what new things I found out about the family research, even though she always asked me why I cared about the past. If she was tired and wanted to sleep, I just sat by to keep her company. Marjorie lived to be over 101 years of age and her mind was pretty sharp throughout her life.
I am grateful that my grandma came to live with us when I was little. Marjorie was a very special person in my life and I cannot help but smile as I think of her today. We were kindred spirits. Now that my grandma is not here, I miss her. But I am fortunate to have her stories and many happy memories of the fun we had. As the song from Mame goes, Marjorie was indeed “my best girl….I’m proud [she] belongs to me.”
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