Email From Gary Aden to Jane Brammel Wfbramall@aol.com 
Email Dated 10/18/2000 

     The news of my Aunt Mary's death was not unexpected. All her
daughters had mentioned the toll that age and illness had exacted.
Indeed her immobility and frailty stood in stark contrast to the active,
rod and reel toting frontier lady so much that the infirmity I saw in
recent photographs was all that much sadder. However, the same gentle
oval face conveying a cheerful disposition persisted untouched by the
ravages of time. I had the feeling that I could still be the beneficiary
of another one of countless meals she prepared during my visits to
Saratoga as a boy and later as a young man.

      The human brain does not have a date and time function so the
recollections I recite are screen memories at best and therefore not in
sequence. The earliest memory that stands out is asking her why she is
sewing with a group of ladies sitting around a large table in a meeting
hall. She told me that the ladies were sewing winter masks for soldiers.
It was really the first time that war and the meaning of war struck home
with me. 

       She and her sister, Fan, were constant companions. No doubt they
had heard the scuttlebut on yours truly to the effect that I
couldn't/didn't particularly relish hunting and fishing. Of course, the
truth was I just found these activities unrewarding. I never got a kill
or caught anything. They drove me all over the area one day and found a
small stream with "guppies" where simply sticking a hook in the water
caught a fish. What a day! I think they enjoyed the look on my face more
than anything. They seemed to feel they had a saved a city boy from the
fate of not being able to appreciate the finer things of life. And I
suppose in a way that's true. I think it would be a little more accurate
to say that they just made me feel a deeper longing to master these
interests. To my regret, I never did- to my father's chagrin. My brother
did though, darn it!

      One summer in college I showed up on Uncle Lloyd's and Aunt Mary's
doorstep selling hearing aids. There are many stories I could relate
about this time, but the one that she and I were to laugh about for
years to come related to my story that my vomiting and diarrhea in their
bathroom was because of "bad hamburger" served at Elk Mountain where
Louis Armstrong was playing a gig. Of course, I tried to maintain this
fiction even though she knew and I knew that it might have been "bad
beer", but it sure as hell wasn't "bad hamburger."

       Aunt Mary is the last of our parents' gneration. They were a
tough lot. They lived through the Great Depression, two World Wars, and
grew up without the amenities and conveniences we take for granted.
Their education was limited to high school and their "safety net" was
each other. Under such conditions, it is not surprising that they could
be a nervous, irascible lot. Many drank too much. At the same time, they
knew how to have a good time. What set Aunt Mary apart from the others
in my mind was her equanimity. She was able to maintain a calm
temperament during crises and  convey an inward optimism that everything
would work out. I am very grateful to have had the opportunity to
observe these characteristics in action during my Saratoga visits. I
also must say that I subsequently thought back to this role modeling
during some tough periods in my own life.

Gary Carl Aden  October 18, 2000