SWIMS TO COFFEE ISLAND, MOTHER’S CRAB BECHAMEL AND
OTHER MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD SUMMER DAYS IN CODEN
BY SISTER FRANCES ANN, RSM
I
am the eldest of 6 children and I am now in the sixty-fifth year of my
life. When I was in grade school, we spent lots of time at the Catholic
Boys Home on Shell Belt Road in Coden. The Catholic Boys Home was immediately
west of the Stein summer house. The Steins were my aunt and uncle. My
four brothers and cousin, Barker Stein, participated in the schedule
at Catholic Boys Home - which was great for my Mom and aunt! They followed
the horarium of swimming, baseball, runs, etc. that filled the days of "The
Brother Boys" next door. The girls usually joined in for the movie
at night, which was great fun. One of our rituals was an annual swim
to Coffee Island and back, once we got in shape by mid summer. One of
the Brothers would be in a row boat, with a couple of the older boys
rowing, and several of us would swim along side.
Once I was in high school, we began renting Lawyer McLeod's house, which
was at the very end of the Coden Belt Road, past Naomi Clarke's oyster
house. We were the last house on that stretch of coast. It is beyond Royal
Oaks with its oak-lined path to the door. The Clarke house was a cross
the road from the oyster house . The home of William and Naomi Clarke was
across that road, on a lovely piece of property. Naomi Clarke kept a beautiful
lawn mowed all around it. I think they had two daughters. The house was
on a little rise, and was a neat two story cottage, with a porch. Mr. William
Clarke, who may have weighed between 300-400 lbs., spent most of the day
on that porch.
Our house was on the oyster house side, with a drive on the side of the
oyster house, and was the last house on the coast. I don't know what the
dirt road that went back up to the main road away from the water was called,
but it was obviously the last road from the water. There is nothing left
of the McLeod House. It was a big rambling two story, with a wrap around
porch. I think the porch was lost a few hurricanes ago, and the last time
I saw the home, it was really dilapidated. It was in great condition during
the 1950's.
There were two large bedrooms upstairs, with a maid's bedroom between.
We usually had a young girl from the area to help take care of the two
young children, but the last a young woman who had just graduated from
high school, and was saving for college came down from Mobile. Her name
was Louise, but a young girl named Frances took care of Mark when he was
a baby, and we lived on the property across the road from the Savelle's,
and just beyond Mr. Bost's strange group of separate structures which he
had built after his brand new house burned down. His place was called "Bossie's
Rest." Frances was wild about Mark, and would clean and cook the little
bull minnows and pin fish he caught from Bossie's wharf.
I remember an ancient black woman named Miss LIL, who lived in a house
that had all sorts of pictures pasted on her walls instead of wall paper.
I thought it was glorious: the pictures were probably from Life and Look,
with some religious pictures mixed in.
My four brothers spent most of their time on the water. My brother, Rodger,
is now a Mobile Bar Pilot (as were my great grandfather, grand father,
father , and now Rodger’s son, my nephew. Rodger spent many hours
with Naomi Clarke, and he learned so much from her. They would go out,
ostensibly for bait for the fishing camp. Rodger would man the motor, Naomi
would cast her net from the bow, and they'd get shrimp and bull minnows
to sell to the fishermen who rented boats from the Clarke Camp. After they'd
get enough, they would fish for speckled trout and other more elusive species.
Rodger credits Naomi for many of the skills that make him a great fisherman.
Adrian, Paul and Mark, who were spindly younger versions paddled up and
down the bayou, looking for Rodger's ducks and their nests. My parents
would get him a few ducklings in the beginning of the summer. I think my
Mom liked watching them feed along the bayou.
The McLeod property was fantastic, with a wonderful scuppernong arbor that
we played under, and artesian well, a little spring house where Pepper,
our German Shepherd dog, raised her puppies each year. There had been gardens
to the right of the house before we lived there. We still had a wonderful
fig tree. The kitchen was separated from he main house by a big screened
in dining room. From the kitchen, we had rigged up tin pie plates and bells,
tied to a rope. We pulled the rope to scare off the birds from eating all
our figs. There were beautiful oaks in the front yard, one of which hung
over the bayou. It was a favorite site for photos, since the boys could
clamber out on the limbs. The majestic oak had a swing, which was the favorite
spot for my grandmother. We loved the place so much that we came down early,
before school was over, and stayed as long as we could in the Fall, with
four of us riding the Greyhound bus into Mobile.
When my little sister was born the May I was 15, we still came down that
year and the poor infant had a suntan immediately. We had a great crib
for her that had screen sides and top, so we could zip her in and zip the
mosquitoes out.
From my adult vantage point, I realize how good it was of my parents to
provide such a wonderful childhood for us. We lived in bathing suits, so
there wasn't much laundry to contend with. We enjoyed the luxury of an
almost total seafood diet, except for bologna or peanut butter sandwiches
packed for being out in the boats. Rarely, Mom made spaghetti, and we loved
gumbo, crab and shrimp in any guise, and every fish you can imagine. Little
did I know how unusual it was to have fish and grits and tomatoes for breakfast.
Mom and I often had crab bechamel on toast with green onions, -and I took
it for granted! My father was so wonderful to commute as much as he could.
In those days, of course, communication wasn't so easy. and it was quite
a feat for him to be on deck as a bar pilot. He did have a week off every
three weeks, so that was wonderful.
When we stepped on catfish, we had to run in to Bayou La Batre for tetanus
shots. The Doctor kept one folder for all the Cook's, since we usually
had the same presenting problems - stepping on stuff over at the oyster
house. Rodger cut the vast lawn in hip boots, to protect from flying oyster
shells and snakes. I remember walking to the Coden post office many times
- from the other coast, usually, when I was younger. We went to Mass at
St. Michael's . I was in charge of getting the four boys presentable for
church. It was curious to me that the men sat on one side, and women on
the other. One day, I looked over to see Mark, the youngest boy, barefoot!
I knew I had put his sandals on, but somehow, he shed them on the way.
Catalina's restaurant opened while we were there, I think. Wintzell's of
course, was kicking. I went to school at Convent of Mercy with Linda Wintzell.
We bought our eggs from the Golden's, and Mr. Golden was an oysterman.
I remember watching him survey the tides for what seemed hours to a little
kid. He would be standing at the sea wall, with his big black dog.
In the mid-Sixties I was down from Georgetown, D.C. one time for the Blessing
of the Fleet, and I was a prize passenger on a shrimp boat. I think it
was one of Capt. Henry's boats (Catalina). It was a good Southern Baptist
boat, and they were happy to have a fully-garbed Sister of Mercy aboard.
I don't know if they got any special blessings for that, but it was great
fun for me!