Dear Grasshoppers: Your response to my recently mailed financial statements has been fantastic. Keep the checks rolling in!
This time of the year is always depressing. The days are short and mostly dark. People are tired of being “cooped” up. Income taxes need to be filed, and the stupid Super Bowl rhetoric is beginning to drone on to the point of “ad nauseum”. Suck it up! This too will pass.
Now, my introduction to Aunt Martha. She owned a 160 acre farm outside of Plymouth. She was your Grandma Alice’s aunt. Alice’s dad, Jiggs, had a brother Carl (6ft.6in. tall) and a sister, Martha. Carl died before I was able to know him, but he also owned a farm further outside Plymouth. When Carl died, Martha bought his 160 acre farm too. You get the idea. She was a land baroness.
Martha married a man named Charlie Meyer. He was a crotchety old goat who went to town when he got the chance and got sloppy drunk. Living with Martha, I guess you couldn’t blame him. He died after 25 years of marriage probably from “over work”. Hence her married name was Martha Meyer. There were no children.
She got strange as she got older. For some reason, she made a connection with Grandma Alice and she would call on the phone and talk about her problems. She couldn’t manage the farms as she got older so she leased out much of the land for the cash. She sold off the milk cows. She lived in the dilapidated farmhouse on her original farm. She refused to repair the house because she was a scrooge. She hid large amounts of cash in cigar boxes. By the time she was in her early 70’s, mistrust had settled into her soul. She thought everyone in the world was out to take advantage of her. In her later years she put a cot in her kitchen to sleep on and she burned wood in her kitchen stove to keep warm. I don’t know when she bathed.
As cantankerous as she was, there was the “sweet little old woman” that came through occasionally. Everybody wanted to get close to Martha because they thought they might take advantage of her. Family members came to visit frequently because they might factor into the inheritance. Love has no bounds when money is involved. Neighbors came around wanting to buy her farm properties for distressed prices. Hell, even the mail man might have been friendly in hope of financial reward. Your mom got to know Martha because the law office where she worked handled Martha’s affairs. I bet they had to fumigate the office when Martha left.
Actually, it got rather sad. Martha had lots of farm property and no way to tend to it. She was paranoid about people taking advantage of her so she kept retreating more and more into her own little world. She did what she felt was necessary to survive. In truth she was a nice lady whose life became too difficult.
So, when Martha died, the parasites lined up to see if they would receive any of her estate. I know the farms were sold along with any personal effects. The money was then divided among a few people with 12% to Grandma Alice, 12% to Alice’s brother Jerry and I think 12% to Jack’s son Johnny, who had spina bifida and she wanted to help him. I think Alice ended up getting $20,000 to $30,000 in several installments. For Alice it was a nice windfall. Alice purchased some furniture and had a screened porch constructed on the front of her house. Most of Alice’s money was gone by the time she died.
Martha died a lonely old lady, alone with her stashed cash and farm property. She is buried in Plymouth Woodlawn Cemetery forgotten by most of the world.
I don’t know what “Aunt Martha’s” relationship would be to you Grasshoppers. Maybe she is a great-great Aunt? We can’t deny the family connection. The lesson? Don’t let money consume you.
Love,
Dad