4 minute read
Try Standing On Your Head
a look at a woman between the pages of history
By Emily Adamiak
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Martha May (McGhee) Waters has the most vibrant soul of a human being in the last century. I may be biased, being her granddaughter and all, but hey, I call ‘em like I see ‘em.
Born in St. Louis, Missouri in 1924, she has seen her fair share of adventures and has many a story to tell to those willing to sit by her side and listen. At the age of nine, she moved into a home for girls alongside her older sister, Ruth, when their traveling-accountant father passed away and their mother could no longer care for them. Her favorite teenage pastime was sneaking off to the movie theater under the nose of her housemother. In 1944, at the age of twenty and in a country on the eve of war, she enlisted as a pharmacist’s mate in the Navy at the behest of her sister to serve alongside her. Ruth, ironically, changed her mind after Martha put pen to paper. In the following year, she went on to meet my grandfather, George, and they married in 1946. Five children, one nursing education, and thirty years later, she was living in Saudi Arabia, working as a librarian, and moonlighting as a tap-dancing Sweet Adeline singer. She now resides in her Huntington Beach home like she has the past 60 years, using her hands to create and her mind to inspire.
In her 96 years of life, she is still as quickwitted and charming as she ever was. She has accumulated tales that make me smile, cry, guffaw, and everything in between. She says she owes her longevity to the fact that she stands on her head each and every morning. (This is not a fact and cannot be proven. In my personal opinion, I believe she is just a spitfire whose love for life keeps her kicking.) Every word she speaks is a thread in the fabric of her part in history and serves as an integral piece of the creative person I am today. Without our regular bookstore dates and phone chats, this article would never have come to fruition.
Her story, like those of many other amazing women, will never reach the pages of the history books. Textbooks provide us details in snapshots: Rosa Parks sat on a bus; Joan of Arc fought a battle; the Suffragettes led a march. But what about the ladies/femmes/ badass thems that are left to fall through the gaps left by time and mainstream consciousness? So many stories are lost over the span of centuries, simply because their impact only reached their close companions rather than the world at large. And it is through no fault of the ordinary woman. History is a selective path we must walk, and I want to change that narrative in however little I can.
Everyone wants to be remembered. They want to know they will leave a mark on the world, no matter how minuscule. There are so many tales that will never breach mainstream consciousness. These fierce ladies who have overcome and experienced so many adventures must not be passed along the river of time until they reach the banks, forgotten. They deserve to have their stories heard; their tales serve as inspirations for future generations or as hopeful anecdotes to those of us who just want to feel a little closer to our fellow women. I mean, that’s the whole reason we pick up this magazine, right?
Whether you are a Montana woman, an out of state Oregonian like me (in my mind, Idaho is just a doorway keeping me from my Montana pals, sorry Idaho), or anywhere that you feel a connection to your fellow gals, your story matters. What you do matters.
My grandma is one such figure whose existence will directly affect me for the rest of my days, and hopefully those beyond. She makes me smile full in the face. I wish I could bottle her laugh and save it for any day I need to hear it. She is a protagonist of her own story, and I hope I have done her justice.
These words I am leaving you with are selfish. They are my way of adding a remarkable woman to the narrative, hoping that in putting her name in print, she will be remembered by those far more interesting and accomplished than myself. I am thankful for all of the strong women in my life — one of them owns this very magazine you are holding — for without them and the community they have surrounded me with, I would be adrift with emotions and thoughts and ideas that would have no outlet for expression.
Do me a favor: call your grandma or your mother or any loved one today, if you can. Make every day a celebration of women’s history, not just a month. Mark today as a historical event and celebrate it with the monumental ladies in your life. Making a mark on history does not have to be a momentous occasion or achievement. It can be as simple as a good old-fashioned hello. Stay safe, stay sane, and remember — girls run this world.
(Oh and Grandma, if you’re reading this… I made sure not to mention a certain someone’s big bosom, large nose, or crooked walk, just like you asked.)
