Ms. Edna Mae Foreman Hayes

(First ten pages – rough draft)

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Supercentenarian

Ms. Edna Hayes

" One hundred years this month. August 2nd, 1923. I couldn't believe it myself."

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August 28, 2023

Believe it or not, I bought an outfit to be buried in and now I can't get it on out. 

Anyway, that's nice that you would take time out and go around and talk to people. You might find a, I don't know, a clown that you never found before like me. But no, I had no idea that I was going to be still hanging around here. Shew.

I just don't know what you could want to say to me. Yeah, pretty good, one hundred years this month. August 2nd, 1923. I couldn't believe it myself.

Well, I'm going to try to stretch your memory. I want to go way back; I want to start with your grandparents.

Then we’re going to stop right there.

Oh, OK. Too far? Then, we won’t go back so far.

Don't go too far. I don't know nothing about that.

How many siblings did you have?

Five. Six of us, counting me.

Here’s Edna’s oldest daughter, Barbara: Mother has a younger brother that we think is still here. She hasn't been in contact with him for a while, but he may still be in Louisville.[1]

Mother’s nieces and nephews have not kept in touch with her.

Where were you born and where did you grow up?

A little country town in, well, it's a part of Louisville now: Fairfield, Kentucky.[2] I moved there when I was twelve.

Yeah, horses and cows and tobacco and corn. Well, it's a farm town, it was, I don't know if it's still there or not. But yeah, a very small rural town in Kentucky. Then we moved from that little town to another little town and then finally to Connersville,[3] Indiana, another little town.

It was my mother and her siblings, then everybody sort of split up and my mom thought she’d take our wind and fly.

#

Do you remember the '36 flood in Kentucky?[4]  

Yeah. It was a flood in Louisville; animals in trees trying to get rescued because when the water went down in some places, some animals and birds and things were still in the trees. Certain birds, they couldn't fly.

Did you live on a farm? Was your father a true farmer?

No, my mother (Viola Evans Foreman) went there to work. 

We call it now “day work.” And then finally she moved to Kentucky, I mean to Louisville. She got a job cooking and taking care of kids as usual; that's what she did. I never did any kind of work, like extravagant or nothing. I just come along, I guess. My mother lived till eighty-six, I believe. She's been gone now probably fifty years or more.

Mother wasn't married to my dad. My dad died when I was like four months, not even four months. He passed at eighty.

“Daddy” (Coleman Foreman) was my stepfather.

#

Barbara: We celebrated her Happy 100th Birthday at a luncheon. And then everybody started sending her all these happy birthdays.

The four girls, they decided they would have me a party. And it was just them and me. We went out to a lake where boats and fishermen hung out. We had a nice dinner. They seemed to appreciate it. I said, "I didn't think this would ever happen" – them in their mid-70s and me at one hundred. But it was nice, and everybody talked, too. So, that's about the size of it. 

#

Ms. Edna, what can you tell me about your schooling?

It was a Fairfield school, starting out two rooms. And that must have been like in, oh God, ’19-something, I don't know.

Barbara: Thirties?

Well, back then, the education wasn’t all that hot because my mother, she had to raise the kids and if one was older than the other, they would have to stay home and help Daddy, because there was the tobacco and corn and cows, and horses who ate snakes, whatever. And when they got a certain age, they were grown. All of the same old thing hanging around in the country town. Just like me being one hundred. 

I've been to a few cities, but not too many. Once you grow up in a place and get used to it, the other places, they’re not that important.

I maybe went somewhere. 

I was looking at the TV the other night, and I'm thinking, I wouldn't want to live there. I wouldn't want to visit. I don't think I could stand that. But other than that, I leave well enough alone.

#

My husband, James W. Hayes, was born in January 1915. There were nine or ten of them, but all of their names were changed.

And of course, we called him Jake, a nickname.

Jake.

We were married in September 1948 for more than fifty-one years.[5]

He was a mechanic. He loved his cars.

Sat down, somebody called him. 

"Hey man, I wonder if you could tell me something over the phone." 

"I doubt it very much." 

Anyway, he was trying to explain to my husband what this piece was. 

"They tell me you pretty good." 

"Well, I'll see if I can help." He got to. 

He told Jake what the situation was and Jake said, "Oh, I think maybe you’ll find something around there somewhere. How about a straw." 

"What kind of straw?" 

"You go ahead and do what I tell you and you're going to be all right." 

I don't know where he found a straw out there. 

He did and that was it. Then he called Jake, thanked him. "You're my man."

#

The Mechanic

Yeah, back then, Jake worked at different people's garages to try to make a decent living. And that wasn't easy back there in those days. 

Well, he decided, I'm going to do on my own. 

So, he would have a garage out the back: Jim’s Garage. He could tear a car down in no time flat. Jake could tell him exactly what he thought was the problem. And different people, still now, if they see one of the girls: "Aren't you Jake Hayes' daughter or something?" They remembered him because of the silly little things he would do. And they would never believe that that little bitty thing could be important to him.

"Have y'all seen Jake?" 

"Oh yeah, man, he's good." Or something like that. "Because he fixed my car, and that car runs better than it ever ran when it was pretty new." So, that kind of stuff. 

But he's been dead now twenty-two years I think, something like that.

Here’s Barbara: Daddy took an engine out of a car and worked on it because that was just him. He rebuilt a car. Him and my brother Wardell. Daddy got this car, and one side was missing the hood or something. And he put it in the garage and built that boy a car. I don't know what happened to the car, but I think somebody came around the corner and it got kind of sideswiped.

And that ended that car. 

#

When Daddy got sick, me and my sisters tried to find a correct date of birth. We had to find someone older than Daddy, somebody with a Bible as old as Daddy. Somebody that went to school with Daddy that was still alive and all that kind of stuff. And we just really never did get it tracked down. So, if '21, '22 comes up, that's probably because he told us they lived somewhere and by the time the birth certificate was signed, it was five years later and everything.

 

We did find Mama’s parents way back. We found, we think, her grandfather on a plantation as a head of something with people listed under him. 

Why y'all do this now when y'all know I can't remember nothing? 

So, everybody, this is her now; this is our history right here. We can't go back to anybody who's been here longer than her to get anything. 

What I know is what I know.

A very independent type of lady, good soulmate, raised six fantastic children. Just saying, good Mom.

Ms. Edna, do you know how many great-grandkids you have?

Good heavens, no. They pop up every nine months somewhere or another. "Who's kid is that?" 

"Oh, don't you know me? I'm so-and-so and so-and-so's daughter.”

Some of them I've never seen.

Some of them, they'll just go off somewhere and have a bunch of children and you don't know who they are.

You know you got twelve grand babies, Mother.

I didn't know about all that.

Here’s Edna’s youngest daughter, Joan: Grandkids, that's twelve plus. Let's see, Kirsten, Kira. Two more from each. So, that'd be like fourteen grandkids, and fourteen great-grands. 

I know I had six kids, and each kid had two, and after that, I stopped counting. I can't keep up with all that.[6]

She’s got a good back to support all those grandbabies.

Because it's really going fast. They say, "Oh, Mom, we know, we know." 

I say, "Well, things go so fast." I don't know.

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Footnotes:

[1] Located in the southern region of Kentucky, along the Ohio River, Louisville holds the title of the largest city in the state. This lively metropolis is renowned for its thriving arts community, bourbon distilleries, and the highly anticipated Kentucky Derby horse race, hosted at Churchill Downs every year. Louisville is also home to the Muhammad Ali Center, a tribute to the boxing legend and philanthropist who was born in this city. Return to text

[2] Nestled in the northern section of Central Kentucky is the quaint city of Fairfield. It boasts an impressive agricultural history and striking natural beauty. With a population hovering around eighty residents, its small size gives it a historical atmosphere that many towns in Kentucky share. Fairfield's convenient location on the Kentucky Bourbon Trail also makes it a great starting point for visitors exploring the region's renowned bourbon distilleries. Return to text

[3] Connersville is located southeast of Indianapolis, about sixty miles. This small city has a long history as an industrial hub known for its furniture and automotive factories. It has evolved to be a mixture of traditional values and industrial progress, with many historic sites dotting the landscape. From the Whitewater Valley Railroad to the Connersville Historic District, there is much to explore. Return to text

[4] The Ohio River Flood of 1936, also referred to as the Kentucky 1936 Flood, was a disastrous event in January and February of 1936. Edna was thirteen. One of the most vicious floods in the state was due to heavy spring rainfall, which caused the tributaries to overflow. It was part of what ended up being a larger flood event across several states in the Ohio River Valley. Thousands were displaced from their dwellings while crops and farmland were gone, and industries had to cease operations, causing financial woes for many locals. Return to text

[5] To be exact: Fifty-one years, eleven months, and five days. Return to text

[6] We can, Edna. You have twelve grandchildren, sixteen great-grandchildren, and several great-great-grandchildren. Return to text