We lost the Matriarch of North Main this last week.  Louise Williams was my friend and an example to all of us on this end of town.  She and Clyde raised nine kids in the little yellow house across the street and while doing so made connections with her neighbors that will keep us looking in her direction and smiling for years to come.  She was the salt of the earth that flavored daily life.

Louise always had the first red tomato of the season.  No matter how early the Evanson tomatoes were planted, she managed to always let Brent know she had been eating tomatoes for a week or two before he brought a ripe one to the table.  Brent finally won that contest this year, because Louise’s garden couldn’t do it without her.

We had four boys, and they weren’t always angels.  One summer day one of them…I think it was Brett…found spray paint in Louise’s garage.  I don’t need to paint that picture for you, but you get the idea.  After that, she and Brett became “MacGyver Buddies” watching the show together.  Guess she figured it was a good idea to keep an eye on him.

Her little house was the portal to a beautiful back yard which she maintained for years.  This “park” with its fruit trees, rolling hills, a bowery with an outdoor kitchen, and the garden was the location for family reunions held annually the first weekend in August.  That’s when the masses would roll in and family connections were strengthened.  That backyard was also the location for my Elle’s birthday party a couple of years ago.  The rolling hills were perfect for tubing and Louise was so happy to have the kids around.

Louise was happy.  That is the bottom line and what defined her.  Her eyes twinkled even when Life wasn’t so Good.  The last couple of years have been a challenge for one so active, but I never heard her complain.  She would hunch her shoulders, extend her arms with her palms up and say, “Well, what can you do?”  Our family went on vacation several years ago when the boys were young and upon returning, I was so happy to see her porch light.  I wrote the following poem and Sam, Louise’s daughter, brought it over when she found it in Louise’s stuff.

The summer night was clear and cool,

We returned from a trip overnight.

A neighbor-boy’s book was on our porch,

Across the street glowed Louise’s porch light.

The bags were unpacked, the washer filled,

The day had been busy and right,

The neighbors were quiet, Louise’s was still

From the window I saw her porch light.