Remembering Millie Jackson

Remembering Millie Jackson

My first memory of Millie Jackson was undoubtedly when I was about seven or eight years old. She was cutting seed potatoes for Bob Hastings next door. I had never seen this being done, so I was intrigued with how effortless she sliced up the potatoes, always leaving an “eye” to sprout new spuds.

Millie and her husband, Dana, were always friends of my parents, so I grew up with regular visits from them; we also took some family trips with them as well.

My mother and Millie often talked on the phone. When dial phones came in, a time limit (something like seven minutes) was imposed, much to the annoyance of Millie and my mother. Ernest “Perk” Perkins, one of the telephone men of the day, always relished telling these two women to stop their “yakking,” but they never did. Every once in awhile, he would be working on their line and literally have to “pull the plug” on them, an act in which he took a certain delight. Needless to say, at every opportunity, they would good naturedly give him lots of “grief.”

Many years later, Millie came to work for the Bethel Historical Society under one of the Federal government’s training projects for retired persons. She liked the job and along with others accomplished a great deal, assisting with publications, collections, membership records, correspondence, etc. Millie possessed a superb sense of humor and we laughed a lot at some of the situations we encountered during the years she was with us.

Since smoking was prohibited at the Society, Millie gave coming to work for us as the reason that she decided to give up cigarettes. “I got damn tired of hovering around a snowbank while I puffed,” she once told me.

In later years, Millie took on sewing projects for me, doing everything from assembling quilts, fixing pillows and hemming tablecloths, etc. She was a remarkable worker almost to the end of her life and she inevitably had one laughing every time one saw her.

Stan Howe

Bethel