Local Provisions

Southern Fare Local Character(s) Hoyt Ramey & Family By Lorie Thompson

Iam old Rabun County. I grew up in this remote little community where you knew almost everyone you encountered. They knew you or at least your family. Upon meeting someone new, the first question was, “Now, who is your family?” I was proud to answer that Hoyt and Barbara Ramey were my parents. My Dad was a local home-builder. He was known for quality work and honest dealings. When I began my real estate career, it pleased me to see that other agents would put in their description of a new home listing that it was a “Hoyt Ramey built home!” His name was synonymous with quality. He was always working. He built homes by day, kept a farm, and refinished hardwood floors as a nighttime job. He was brilliant, and he could do almost anything. That is anything except cook. I have no memories of him in the kitchen other than cooking steaks outside on the gas grill. I don’t even remember seeing him make a sandwich. My mother prepared all of his food. She cooked his breakfast. She packed his lunch box every day, and she had supper waiting on him when he came in from work. I don’t think it was a sexist thing even though cooking was considered “Woman’s work in their early years of marriage.” I expect his lack of cooking was more of a practical thing, considering he always worked several different jobs and had a short time between them. The other reason might have been that he was just no good at it. He could not cook a lick!

I remember the story of my Daddy’s attempt at making a banana pudding. My Mama had been in bed sick for a couple of days, and Daddy decided he wanted a banana pudding. He located a recipe in a cookbook and proceeded to make it. Somewhere along the way, he drifted from the banana pudding recipe over into a lemon meringue pie recipe. The results were inedible! He told the story saying the hound dogs would not even eat it! The only thing he could really cook was steaks on the grill. He was in charge of the Friday night feast. Somewhere in the 1970s, he concocted a steak sauce with a list of improbable ingredients that turned out

Lorie Thompson is a REALTOR at Poss Realty in Clayton, Georgia. Her expertise in her industry is second only to her culinary talents. Lorie is a dynamo in the kitchen. Honestly if she prepares it, it will likely be the best you’ve ever had! Lorie and her husband, Anthony (Peanut), make their home in the Persimmon Community. She is the proud mother of Joe Thompson and Kendall Thompson.

fantastic. It is the only family recipe I will not share with you because we will bottle it for resale one day. Let’s just say that it is like mixing banana pudding and lemon meringue pie, but it works! Otherwise, Hoyt Ramey was a total failure in the kitchen. He and my Mom married just after graduation from Lakemont High School. Graduation at that time was at the end of the 11th grade. They were both just a month or so over 17 years old when they married. World War II was just coming to an end. While the economy in the rest of the country was improving, rural Rabun County was still impoverished. It was tough to earn a living here. My Dad headed out looking for work along with many other of his family and friends. He started in Charleston, West Virginia living there with other Rabun County men and returning home once every few months to see his family. Eventually, he was able to move my Mama there with him. They left West Virginia and migrated out to Lousiana for a while and eventually to Washington State, where many Rabun County people worked. My brother Cannon had been born, and my Mama was pregnant with Steve by then. My parents lived in a migrant tent camp along the banks of the Columbia River when a catastrophic flood occurred. They were able to escape but lost everything they had. My Dad got Mama and Cannon into the car and above the flood level before a wall of water swept away many people in the camp. He told of sitting up on a hillside and watching the water overtake the entire valley and the migrant camp with hundreds of people swept away. They found shelter inside an old chicken coop on a local farm. Later, my Mama and Cannon boarded a Greyhound bus back to Georgia. Mama was expecting Steve and holding Cannon as a baby in her arms. She suffered from motion sickness, and she told of that ride across the country as one of the hardest things she has ever endured. After that cross country bus trip, my big brother Cannon was called “Squall ball, Cannonball.” Mama said he cried from Washington to Georgia while she battled being car-sick. The 1950s saw them moving to Detroit, Michigan, and joining many other Rabun County families looking for work. My sister Debra had been born, and my Mom had her hands full caring for three children while Dad worked in the automobile factory. At some point, my Dad was injured and had gangrene set up in his right arm. He told of seeing the red streaks starting in his right hand and running up his arm. Blood poisoning! He came near death. The doctors demanded that they take off his arm to save his life, and he refused. My Mama said he begged her to keep the doctors from taking his arm. While he was suffering from a fever-induced delirium, she fought for him. As he lay near death, it was touch and go, but he survived and kept his right arm and hand. My big brother, Cannon, used to tell me how poor they were living in Michigan. They lived in the basement of a boarding house. He said to me of watching the landlord’s children eating ice cream and how he and Steve would beg for it. I would cry when he told me this story and get up and get Cannon a second helping of whatever dessert we were eating. My Grandfather, Burch Ramey, passed away in 1955 and left my Granny with a houseful of young children. My Dad came back to Georgia and settled in to raise his own family and help his mother and siblings. After returning to Georgia, he and Mama started housekeeping in a one-room home with a dirt floor located on the backside of his Mothers farm. Daddy worked by day building for other people and evenings building his own home. We sold that original home to life-long neighbors a few years ago. It ended up as a very comfortable four bedroom with plenty of room for big family gatherings. They had lived in that Ramey Road home for over 50 years. My sister Nan and I never knew the years of struggle that my older siblings remember. By Cannon And Steve

the time I was born in the 1960s, we had a lovely home and plenty of food. My Dad still worked multiple jobs, and there was never a surplus of money, but we had a comfortable life. I have so many “Hoyt Ramey” stories. I will tell you some of the wildman stories another day. He and my Mama really lived their life! He loved “toys,” and there were always motorcycles, dune buggies, boats, horses, and even a little three-seater airplane! If he was not working, we were doing something fun! When I see one of those questions about who you would like to spend an hour with if you could choose anyone dead or living, it would definitely be my Mama and Daddy. I could not pick between them but would love to have one more earthly visit with both of them. They are forever entwined in my memories, like two sides of the same coin. When I think of my Dad, I think of my Mom. I believe that living through all of the years of hardship bound them closer together than many couples. They both loved the Lord God first and foremost, but they truly loved each other, too. They lived a great life! If your parents are still living, go find them and ask about the early years. Enjoy their stories and know that their history is your history. Enjoy this day the Lord has made!