REMEMBERING GRANDDADDY WEAVER

My grandfather, Arlie Anderson Weaver, was born on August 2, 1887 in Bristol, Tennessee.
His homeplace still stands, renovated, where he was born. This road is called the Weaver Pike. Across the road was the Weaver School and Weaver Church, in addition to the Rader Store.
I attended the Weaver School until mid-8th grade when we moved to Ohio to find work.

My memories of him are, first, that he was a very gentle man--soft-spoken. I never heard him raise his voice. He lived a few miles from my family on the old homeplace of Frederick Weaver. The house had (still has) a huge chimney and fireplace, made of stone. The front steps, very wide, were also of stone. A swing hung on the front porch. The Rader Store (once owned by Jacob Weaver) was visible across the road.

Inside was a large living room with a standing radio , a short-wave radio, and a piano. The piano had a piano seat cover that slipped when I sat down. There was also a large wooden desk and a very old typewriter with glass keys. A bedroom was to the left, though I suspect it was once a "parlor" or second living room. The telephone was in this room, and my grandfather kept his frequently used phone numbers written on the wallpaper beside the telephone. No need for a Rolodex there! Next room back was the dining room. My grandmother served Sunday dinner there--on pink depression glass dishes. In the corner was a curved glass cabinet which held the special pieces and a set of dishes my uncle, Glenn A. Weaver, brought back from the Korean War.

Next was the kitchen with a cabinet which had a flour "mill" inside one door. A built-in corner cupboard occupied the back corner, and a table was in the middle. On the table was always pear butter or some such item, in a covered dish. My grandfather ate there -- at least when I was present. There was a closed-in back porch beyond the kitchen. This is where he always marked our height on the door frame, labeling the name of the child and the date. Thus, he could show us how much we grew from visit to visit--especially after we moved to Ohio.

The upstairs was accessed by a stairwell that was opened from the downstairs bedroom. Upstairs were 3 bedrooms. The one my grandfather slept in had a feather bed and the bed was never made. He didn't see a reason to make the bed, then mess it up again at bedtime. Each bed upstairs had a light which hung on the headboard. The closet areas were curtained. On the wall in one bedroom was my grandfather's Mason sword. He was a 32nd Degree Mason, I was told. (Guess that's good??)

There was a cellar, accessible from outside, which held all the canned foods--"put up" during the summer months to be enjoyed until the next season.

My grandparents ran a dairy farm. The barn was down a little way from the house. (The large spring was in between.) My cousin and I played in the barn frequently in the summer. He also sold insurance in later years. I don't remember many activities with my grandfather, as he always seemed to be working on some papers or down at the barn. My grandmother was the stronger personality in that house. He smoked, and we have a wonderful snapshot of him standing by the garden fence.

My grandparents played Rummy with each other for money. The also enjoyed Canasta, and my grandmother sold encyclopedias, collected genealogy information, and basically made the financial decisions.

When my mother was born, she was the third of his daughters. Then along came a son, some five years later. A neighbor told her she wasn't the baby anymore; but my grandfather told her she would ALWAYS be HIS baby. They were very close throughout his life.

I remember buying him those Necco Wafers for Christmas, and a box of chocolate-covered cherries.

My grandfather would be 123 years old today.