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A Country Rag
If you missed "La Voix des Femmes: The Saga of Violette Wakeland" -- Part One, click here, or Part Two, click here, Part Three, click here. "From this perspective, the psychoanalytic—and by extension the psychotherapeutic—worldview is not relativist at all. Its values are honesty, self-knowledge, assumption of responsibility for the whole of what one does, freedom from inherited codes of family, church, tribe in favor of a universal humanism: in other words, the values of the Enlightenment, as revised and expanded by Freud’s critique of scientific rationalism for ignoring the power of unconscious desire." -- MSNBC
Rivers Side -- April 2001
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A resident of middle Tennessee, karol cooper is a technology and gardening enthusiast and a published entrepreneurial writer of articles and to-date six books, including two co-authored with her husband, a professional musician and sports writer, published by Walnut Grove Press. Family genealogical research recently revealed that her paternal blood heritage is Melungeon (believed to be a mixture of Chippewa, African-American, Scottish and English). Research has been one of her lifetime loves and she is involved now in scholarly explorations, including a non-fiction book project, of possible relationships between incest, cellular biology and linguistics.
This is part four, final chapter in the biography of Violette Wakeland. Please refer to ACR archives for parts I, II and III. kc
La Viox des Femmes: The Saga of Violette Wakeland by karol cooper
Part IV: Coming Full Circle
Having bested the perils of mountain life, and having made the decision to be herself and not take on the attitudes of the locals, Violette embarked on a new phase of life: she began to travel the world. As well as her activities within the United States and Canada, her memoirs describe trips to Nova Scotia, Russia, India, China, East and West Berlin, when The Wall was still standing.During one of her travels Violette phoned home to neighbors to inquire about her house. To her dismay she heard that her place had been burglarized! She rushed back home from her trip to find that the thieves had literally lived in her house during her absence, leisurely carrying away her possessions one at a time. The crooks included her wheelbarrow in their loot, and it was by this means that she was able to later identify them and carry out prosecution. Despite that negative incident Violette continued her love affair with nature, good and bad. Living within nature is not without immediate hazards. Encounters with the belligerent little yellow jackets is a case in point. Fa and I were swingblading weeds when suddenly I invaded a yellow-jacket nest. An immediate defense surrounded me bodily. They were in my hair, in my clothing, in stinging cloying persistence. I swung my hat, flailed my arms, stamped my feet — nothing could rid me of their attack. Finally I was able to beat myself free (maybe they had divested themselves of their stingers.) I literally bathed myself in ammonia, then settled in for a siege of recovery. (Of late years scientists have learned that insect venom is an effective antidote against arthritis. Maybe I was lucky.) After ten years of companionship, having literally saved her life more than once, Violette’s companion Fa died. I was deeply saddened over his loss. It was January and my friends on the bluff were around. We dug his grave and we all gave him a dignified interment under the pines. A limestone slab marks his burial site. When she regained her strength following the loss of her dog, Violette turned her attention to writing and began to keep a journal in earnest. My interest in literature had been an invaluable means of gaining insight into the myriad complexities and intricacies of human nature. My writing took on the nature of putting my life into perspective, which finally proved to be a healing of the psyche. She would need every bit of that mature perspective to continue her ongoing battle with The Assembly. One spring we had a season of persistent rainfall until a certain narrow stretch in the road became so water logged that the bottom dropped out. I was grounded except for my two legs. A time or two I attempted to get through with the car; each time it dropped to a standstill. There came a time when I had to walk to town for food.  The road situation had continued to be a thorn in her flesh over many years. At long last, after years of standing tall, Violette appeared in court to state her case against The Assembly. Surprisingly the judge ruled in Violette’s favor. Because The Assembly was a religious organization, and few cases are ever won against such, this became a landmark case. Never again would she be shut off from her land; never again could The Assembly torture her in hopes of winning her property — she had won! During these years Violette had formed a friendship with Glenn and Betty King, who later purchased Monty’s cabin. Today Virginia expresses her relief that her mother had such kind and generous-hearted neighbors to look after her. They were ever-present in Violette's life and shared many similar interests. Violette returned their kindness: When Betty became ill and had radical surgery, Violette nursed her at Sunset Bluff until she was stronger. 
Violette had also continued to develop a wonderful camaraderie with Sanford McGee, a former student of hers and a biology teacher at St. Andrews School-Sewanee School in nearby Sewanee, Tennessee. He and Violette cooked up the idea to build a rental cottage on the lot adjacent to Violette’s. In 1975, when she was 68 years old, she found an old house in the valley that could be recycled. This plan fit in well with what Sanford envisioned —that the place would be rustic with the homey features of early cabins, much like his grandmother’s house. Together they stripped paint from aged window frames and doors, pulled nails from the old lumber, put creosote on the joists, hauled building supplies, and generally lent a hand to builder Gordon Childers, the same man who helped Monty reassemble his house, and who came to their aid during the week of the fires. Sanford's creativity is evident in the cottage: he hauled enough rocks from his family home to build a stone wall behind the fireplace, cleverly positioning jutting rock as window sills. He bought salvage windows for the home and designed the cottage around the window placement, allowing for an incredible view through the sliding glass doors to the deck. The interior walls are cedar shake shingle, and above the stairs he inserted a stained-glass window. In March of 1976, Sanford moved into the cottage. Violette was 69 years old. One of Sanford’s first deeds as a resident was to convince Violette that it was time to drill a well. Sanford's father was a dowser, a water finder or "water witch." Dowsing is an ancient skill, often passed down in families from generation to generation. Undaunted by the history of dry hits, Sanford was typically optimistic and brought his father to look for a suitable location for a well. Together they slowly walked the property foot by foot, looking for a spot — each relying on different skills. While Sanford's father "used his body" as a finding stick, Sanford employed a more scientific method by studying the lay of the land and deducing where the largest watershed would be located. When Sanford led his father to the spot where he suspected there would be an underground reservoir, his father circled and circled the spot in smaller spirals until he stopped and said, "We drill here." It was an exciting and nerve-wracking experience for Violette:I’m rather dreading this drilling project — I’ve dreaded it for years. That’s why I’ve been carrying water for these six years. Now I’m being pushed into it by circumstances somewhat beyond my control. Destiny? The well-driller began his work today. It’s an exciting time but I’m nervously apprehensive — making a strike is one big gamble. I am so tense that I can’t go near the operation! One of the great days of my life!! A driller calls for the pump man to come out to test the stream. With the hose on full, the water continues for an hour without letup! "I think you have a hit!" says the pump man. I run behind the house and burst into tears. Ever since I’ve lived here water has been a problem. Can it be that at long last I will be able to turn on the tap and get returns? Sanford says that on the day of the "hit," he and Violette danced in the pumping fountain, filled champagne glasses with the delicious nectar and drank a toast. 
Violette continued her education throughout her life. When she was 79, she was initiated into Elderhostel, an educational program for older adults who want to continue to expand their horizons and develop new interests and enthusiasms. Participants enjoy inexpensive short-term academic programs at educational institutions around the world. It is for elder people on the move, not just for travel but in terms of intellectual activity as well. One field trip was to Dayton, Tennessee, where the famous Scopes "monkey trial" was held.Her memoirs continue to be full of other historical references: Moon shot Our nation’s unfortunate involvement in Vietnam served one worthy purpose: the realization that wars are the epitome of stupidity.March 30, 1981: An assassination attempt is made on President Reagan and press secretary Jim Brady. The assailant, John Hinkley, is from an affluent family. His motive as to impress the actress with whom he was infatuated.The space shuttle Columbia is launched successfully.The year that Violette turned 80, fires once again broke out on the mountain during the drought season. She reports seeing two large wood fires in the valley one day, getting a call about two others the next day, and being shut off from ingress to her property on another day due to the severity of the outbreaks. Although the rash of fires continued throughout the dry fall, this time Violette was not required to get into the trenches with the firefighters. Modernization had equipped the volunteer fire department with better tools to fight the fires. Violette was a one-of-a-kind woman. Nothing can better describe her zest for life than her own words: Adjustments are the spice of life. The nature of mankind is body, mind, soul and spirit. All of these factors should enter into our judgements especially pertaining to human relationships. Unless there is correlation of all of these elements in our nature, judgements can be seriously flawed. Intellect without guidance is not a guarantee of sound judgement. Every day I give thanks to be with young people, and I have a vibrant spirit of LIVING. Every year that is given to me I hope will be a time of learning. On a camping trip, at age 75, to Cosby campground in the Smokies she says: The mountains are soaked but I’m determined to hike the five and a half miles up Mount Cammerer. Everybody else in the group is so slow! One of Sanford’s hens had sequestered herself to brood in a box on the porch of the cottage. Little chicks were hatching and I was apprehensive about varmints getting those little cheeps so I became a surrogate mother to eight delightful chicks. They followed me as their mother hen even though I didn’t exactly cluck and peck like a feathered fowl. In August 1983 I purchased my first color TV for $379. It takes me a while to catch up with modern technology. Olympic winter games were being conducted at Sarajevo, Yugoslavia, in February, which gave me fascinating TV viewing for two weeks. Strange little incidents occur here on the bluff from time to time. This one occurred on a spring day in March. An unfamiliar family came with a request: did I mind if they scattered Grandpa’s ashes off The Rock? What was the nature of the affinity that Grandpa had for this place? Were there special soul-filling moments of meditation on the Rock? Whatever his motivation, Grandpa wished to be assimilated forever with this spot. I have read legends about twining roses springing up from the gravesites of two lovers side by side. In the spring, I look at a special dogwood blooming there in its ethereal glory below the Rock and I wonder.  When Violette was 90 years old she was diagnosed with terminal cancer. During the two years that she lingered she was able to see her final dream fulfilled: Virginia and Ralph completed the construction of her dream house by building on top of Violette’s basement home. Just days prior to her death, Virginia and Ralph carried her upstairs to see the finished product. Violette died on March 7, 1998. She faced death the same way she faced life: I see threads running through my life which might give a clue to what we call destiny. I see many wiggle-waggles in the threads of life with points of stress indicating dangers overcome; there are shimmerings of silver with touches of happiness; in these late years the shimmerings have become golden as the threads come together in one strand. Related to it all is The Rock, that sequestered prominence where I retreated to ponder what life was all about. In 1952, when Ray brought me to view this property, there was The Rock, that significant feature which seemed to symbolize the basis of my life. Almost 40 years later, The Rock is still central in my life. I have come full circle. 
Epilogue:
Thanks to Tom Berens for working with me. Thanx to Virginia Kraft, Monty Wanamaker, Sanford McGee for talking to me about their memories of Violette. Special thanks to Barbara Sharp, Kathy Prince and Sheila Randolph for their editorial help. All hail Erudity! |