May 15 '99
Volume 154
Ada Guthrie In Memoriam 1895 -1999
Ada Rebecca Carter was the ninth of ten children born to Berkley DeKalb
Carter Being a relative of Ada Guthrie, this writer has been especially encouraged by her longevity and acute mental faculties beyond her hundredth year. She holds the current longevity record for any of this writer's relatives on either side of his family, a record that may not be broken for quite some time, and, considering the lifestyles of some relatives, may stand forever. In preparing this memorial, RRN solicited special memories from a number of readers, mostly relatives, not all of whom were able to respond by the deadline imposed. In the event additional memories are received after this publication, they shall be inserted into future newsletters. In order to avoid even the appearance of bias in setting the ordering of the articles, RRN elected to publish them in the order in which they were received. Some memories, though penned in the style of this writer's hand, are the verbal recollections of others.
At North Mississippi Medical Center, they did the routine tests for her situation. Following the EKG, the nurse asked me if Aunt Ada had a pacemaker. Her heartbeat was so regular and so strong, they assumed she had one! All afternoon it was evident that Aunt Ada was alert and completely in charge. She reminded me not to forget her personal items every time we were moved from place to place. Later that afternoon, a nurse came to complete her medical history and started asking me the questions. I immediately told her to ask Aunt Ada, because I knew she was very capable of answering the nurse's questions. The nurse couldn't believe that she was taking no medication, not even an over-the-counter medicine. She then asked Aunt Ada if she was allergic to any medication. With a twinkle in her eye, Aunt Ada answered, "Well, yes, quinine, but that was ninety years ago." Note: Usedated Ada - Submitted by Mrs. Neal Huskison
Ada Dated Historical Fact Uncovered During the mid to late seventies, maybe even the year of the bicentennial, Aunt Ada and I were involved in various activities together, clubs, bicentennial celebrations, etc. Along about that time Aunt Ada came by my office one day and asked if I would help her fill out some documents relating to DAR or Colonial Dames. Of course I was willing to help her out. Names, birth dates, places of birth, marriages, dates and places, all had to be filled in on the form. Aunt Ada stood over me as I typed in the information she provided. Ada Rebecca Carter born September 3, 1895, Thaxton, Pontotoc County, MS, and Roy C. Guthrie born October 7,1895 Lafayette County, MS, married February 26, 1918, in Holly Springs, Marshall County, MS. I stopped typing and looked up at Aunt Ada. "Aunt Ada, did you and Uncle Roy elope?" She dropped her head and whispered, "Yes," sounding as if her secret had just been found out. Note: Ada Dated - Submitted by Mrs. Wayne Carter
Ada's Agility Amazing Gait My sister has a special memory of Aunt Ada that occurred a few years ago following the time Aunt Ada fell and broke her hip. Lamar Carter and his sister Nettie Mae Gaillard were visiting in Pontotoc and had asked Sarah to ride with them to visit Aunt Ada. Lamar claims that at some point in his life, Aunt Ada took a liking to him and looked forward to his visits to Pontotoc in hopes that he would find the time to drop in and see her. At that point in her live, though in relatively good health, Aunt Ada was unable to drive without being a danger to herself or others and was dependent upon the kindness of others for transportation. It was not a dependence that she relished, for she had been self-reliant for transportation into her nineties. During the course of conversation that afternoon, Lamar asked Aunt Ada if she would like to go for a ride in the country with them. Delighted by the offer, she accepted, and they, Aunt Ada, Lamar, Nettie Mae, and Sarah, drove into the outlying regions of Pontotoc County visiting once familiar sites and homesteads. Their journey led them to visit Willis and Zena Huskison Carter of Ingomar, MS. Oddly, our kinship with this couple was not through Willis Carter's ancestors, rather through the marriage of a Huskison to the sister of one of our Carter ancestors. Sarah remembers how both Willis and Zena, who were approximately ten years younger than Aunt Ada, in whispered tones referred to how Aunt Ada was "going down…looking so frail," and the like. Keep in mind these are folks, in their eighties, rationalizing their health relative to someone who was in the nineties. True, Aunt Ada was using a walker for stability, but could move about quite readily, quickly, and, according to Sarah, more gracefully than either Willis or Zena. She remembers seeing both Willis and Zena shuttling ladder-back chairs from room to room to accommodate seating arrangements. "Why, they held onto the chairs, using each like a walker, taking those tiny, quick steps," Sarah stated. The walking gait of Willis and Zena had been reduced to the slow, short shuffle-steps characteristic of many elderly persons, that is more of a slide than an actual step. The shuffle-step employs a continual, bent-knee stride, allowing each foot to move forward, approximately 4 to 6 inches, while being lifted above the walking surface a distance measured in fractions of an inch. If you ever watched comedian Tim Conway play an old man on the Carol Burnett Show, you get the idea. I once saw Mr. S. W. Appleton shuffle across the street between W&A Drug Store and First National Bank, doing fine until he reached the curb. At that point his movements began to resemble a child's motorized toy that encounters an obstacle and is unable to continue. As Mr. Appleton's feet met the curb, his forward momentum ceased, but his feet kept moving, continually jabbing first one foot then the other foot into the curb, unable to lift either foot high enough to mount the curb. It was not only a site that evoked sympathy but one that stirred the comic in me as well. Sarah has, in her mind, a vivid picture of the comedic activity of our elderly kinfolk that day, one that perhaps you too can picture if you allow your imagination to work for you. For the record, both Willis Carter and Zena Huskison Carter predeceased Aunt Ada. Note: The preceding is based upon a conversation with Ms. Sarah C. Brown.
Ada's Phone Mates How Are The Hewlettes My daughter, Rayanne Adams, remembers a phone conservation she had with Aunt Ada sometime within the past ten years. Rayanne was living in Pontotoc, at the time, and answered our phone to hear a somewhat confused Aunt Ada inquiring about Ruby Martin, a niece of her late husband Roy Guthrie. Rayanne was having a difficult time making Aunt Ada hear her on the phone and kept insisting that she did not know the person of whom Ada was inquiring. "You don't know her?" quizzed Aunt Ada in disbelief, "Why, you drive her to church every Sunday." "Aunt Ada, this is Rayanne. You know, Wayne's daughter," my beleaguered daughter protested. "Who?" replied Aunt Ada. Rayanne repeated herself, giving additional information about her parents and grandparents in order to help Aunt Ada realize she had looked up the wrong phone number or else misdialed. Dear Aunt Ada was having a "senior moment" and had, somehow, confused Rayanne with Ruby Martin's granddaughter. Another shared memory, involving the telephone, comes from my mom's baby sister, Jo Collins. Aunt Jo has long been retired, but manages to keep up with all the news in Pontotoc through her network of "phone mates," which is complemented by her faithful, police-band scanner. Aunt' Jo's recent shoulder pain may well be attributed to long hours spent conversing over the phone with it cradled to her ear and supported by one hand. However, I am not going to be the one to tell her, and will claim a fever must have had me when I wrote this. Aunt Ada took quite an interest in her relatives, to the point of writing a book, "A Legacy Of Remembrance," which, in order to have up-to-the-minute family information, prior to publishing, she devoted a lot of time writing to and talking to relatives. For the past several years, while we have lived in Pontotoc on a weekend basis, Aunt Ada phoned Aunt Jo to receive updates on my family. A few years back Aunt Jo mentioned to me that Aunt Ada would invariably ask her how the Hewlettes were doing whenever they talked to each other on the phone. I thought it odd that Aunt Ada would have been asking Aunt Jo about the Hewlettes. There is a strain of Hewlettes with whom the Carters are related, but Aunt Jo is neither closely associated with them, nor related to them. "So, Aunt Jo, what do you share with Aunt Ada about the Hewlettes when she asks?" I quizzed, lifting one eyebrow. "I tell her, as far as I know, they're just fine," she replied. "Um, um, um, Aunt Jo, Aunt Jo! I chided. "You've been lying to Aunt Ada all this time." Her grin betrayed her sincerity as she responded, "Well, they are fine…as far as I know." Later Aunt Jo said she figured Aunt Ada must have been thinking of my bunch, but was using the wrong family name. Note: The preceding was framed using conversations with Mrs. Anson Adams and Mrs. Jo Collins.
Ada Assessed Editor's Personal Reflection Ada Guthrie was an old person the first time I saw her. Yet, you must realize that to most any child, his parents are old, and Aunt Ada was my dad's aunt, and the sister of my grandfather. I don't remember seeing Aunt Ada until we moved back to Pontotoc in 1954. Supposing, I saw her that year, she would have been about 59. Now that I am in the mid-fifties, fifty-nine does not seem old at all, but from the perspective of a pre-teen, fifty-nine is pretty old. I feel confident, in saying, that in 1954, Aunt Ada never expected to live to the age of 103. However, most of us don't expect to experience such a long life, especially a life of remarkably good health. Her mind was strong well past her hundredth birthday, but her body gave out this year. In pausing to think of the impact Aunt Ada had upon my life, there are a number of memories, none life changing experiences, but simply those little things that fill our lifetimes. I recall how much she loved gardening, both vegetable and flower gardening. I remember seeing her drive a 1953 Pontiac around town until she traded it off and my dad bought it. I am not sure, but I think Aunt Ada's next car began a series of Oldsmobiles. I don't remember the mileage, when Dad purchased the Pontiac around '59 or '60, but I remember there were not many miles on the car, and Dad was quite proud of it. However, for a teen dreaming of a Corvette or Thunderbird, a lumbering, four-door, family car like our '53 Pontiac with a sun visor was not much to be prized. Perhaps, the memory of Aunt Ada that I recall most shaping my life was but a simple compliment she gave me when I was still a youngster, either in high school or college. I remember standing behind the meat counter at Carter & Austin Grocery in Pontotoc and preparing whatever it was that Aunt Ada had asked me to get her. In those days, the meat was served over-the-counter instead of a customer walking by a meat case and picking up a pre-wrapped package of meat. As I wrapped the meat in white butcher paper on top of the counter, Aunt Ada was closely watching my movements. Once the package was wrapped and sealed with butcher tape, and the price marked with a wax pencil, I handed the package to her. She took the package, set it down on the counter, and asked to see my hands. She held my hand in hers, as if examining it for some impurity, when, to my complete surprise, she stated, "You have such beautiful hands, they are so smooth and soft." I believe I replied that the condition of my hands was the result of handling greasy pork and beef all the time. I hope I remembered to thank her for the compliment, though I don't recall so doing. To have an adult compliment a physical characteristic that I had long considered less than admirable was something of a shock, for I had grown up with a body that did little for my self-esteem. As a teen, my feet were bigger than the feet of either parent, and I might have grown to be quite tall had not so much been turned down. I was skinny as a rail and topping it off, I had a big head. No, no, not "the" big head; I got that later. My head size was as big or bigger than anyone's in my class, and once my 10th grade homeroom teacher, Mrs. Lyons (tactful soul that she was), told me, "You sure do have a big head," and she was not referring to an attitude or passing a compliment. Furthermore, I had inherited the proud Carter forehead as well as the Carter nose, the latter of which is no small item, nor the former, for that matter. As to my hands, they seemed as large in relation to my arms as my feet were to my legs. I am certain they were large enough to have allowed me to scull a canoe had Mom allowed me in any type of boat. To have a relative express admiration for my "big hands," was a little overwhelming. I probably should have later shared with Aunt Ada how much it meant for me at the time for her to compliment my hands, but like so many of the things we each fail to do, that's just one more of the things I never got around to doing. Oh, well, perhaps I will email her at [email protected]. Now, wouldn't it be something if I received a reply from her? Finally, I feel compelled to share one of my most favorite Ada stories. My younger brother, James, and my sister, Sarah, began their respective child rearing years the same year and month. Each had first a baby boy, then a few years later a baby girl. When the two sets of children were still pre-school aged, Sarah happened to encounter Aunt Ada in a store, and on that particular occasion Sarah's young children were present. As they conversed, Aunt Ada began to speak about James' children, "They are two of the most beautiful children I've ever seen." Then, perceiving Sarah's sensitivity to one-upmanship, and understanding a bit regarding sibling rivalry, stated, "And, Sarah, yours are looking better every day." It was one of those backhanded compliments that would offend only a mom such as my sister. Yet, if the truth is to be told, back then, James' two children were more apt to be pageant winners than were Sarah's. Time does seem to work wonders with some children. If anyone asks where you heard this story, you can reply, "From the one whose Aunt Billie Carter (upon her first viewing of this scribe as a newborn babe) assessed as, '…the ugliest little devil I've ever seen.'" Copyright © 1998-99 RRN Online. 
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and Rebecca Caroline Hewlette. The year of her birth was 1895, with the birth
years of her siblings spanning 24 years from 1873 to 1897. Ada Carter married
Roy Clarence Guthrie, a union that produced three children, two of whom survived
their mother. On March 5, 1999, Ada Carter Guthrie died at the age of 103.
For the past couple of decades, Ada Guthrie has been for many who knew her
a living inspiration as one possessing a zest for life and an indomitable
spirit, giving thanks to God for bestowing her with good health and a long
life.