Mike Moser "I Say" Published Aug. 15, 2003

Little lady with the hat has left us

I walked into the funeral home and spotted poor Howard, one of the last of the true gentlemen in this world, sitting sentry near his beloved Martha's casket. His tired and weary hands rested on his cane as he spoke to visitors and well-wishers, one by one.

I waited my turn and when the family friend who knelt by his side for 10 minutes and smiled and hugged him, I stepped forward.

"This is Martha's boyfriend," Howard introduced me to a friend. Then leaning forward as if to share a secret, Howard confided, "You know, she was never really mad at you for writing that column about her." He grinned. And then we shared some happy moments about the little lady with the hat who used to come into the newspaper, just to give me hell.

Howard loved Martha so much. There were times I am not sure he had a choice, but I know it was a true love story and as bad as he will miss her, he knows in his heart she'll suffer no more.

Martha Elliott, not the one on Lantana Rd., for we really are blessed with two Martha Elliotts in Crossville, but the one from the Homesteads, the one who would never be caught in public not wearing one of her famous hats, died Sunday morning after a cruel and horrible bout with cancer.

She was an 89-year-old fireball who was never shy to let a newspaper reporter know what she thought of his work, or anyone else, for that matter. To know Martha - really know her - was to love her.

Despite her gruff demeanor, she didn't have me fooled for one minute. I knew she was a sweetheart, no matter how much she denied the fact.

One of her friends, Mrs. Walter Morris, asked me Tuesday night, "Are you going to write something about Martha?"

"Of course I am. I will finally get the last word in," and everyone around chuckled because they knew, that was just the way of Miss Martha.

Couldn't count the number of times she would call me up, put me on the carpet about something I had or hadn't done, and when she was through, would say, "Bye." The next sound I would hear would be click.

She was such a character, I wrote a column not long ago about her. She feigned being angry with me and it took her days to call me. She knew the anticipation was killing me. When she did, she asked innocently, "Mr. Moseley (she never pronounced my name right), why would you want to write something like that about me? I'm mad at you. And what is this business about poor Howard? There isn't anything poor about Howard."

Click.

Days later she called and asked, "Mr. Moseley. These people keep calling me up and saying something about reading that piece you wrote and then they start laughing. What's that about?"

Click.

It took Miss Martha about three weeks to come in to see me. "Where is that old thing," she boomed into the news room. Before I shared with the staff that she really was a sweetheart, the staff actually felt sorry for me, for they would witness some of her beratings. I have to confess, she had me fooled in the beginning, too.

She then entered my office and launched into me about what I had done to her life. But she wasn't fooling me because I saw the twitch in the corner of her mouth caused by her fighting to keep me from seeing her smile. The she slipped me a card in an envelope and told me to take my bride out to dinner with the $20 bill enclosed inside.

I'll will truly miss Miss Martha. There is nothing else I can say to amplify just how much I will miss her. But, even with her passing, she has made me smile. You see, I finally got the last word.

Click.

I know she would love this.

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Mike Moser is the editor of the Crossville Chronicle. His column is published periodically on Fridays.