In the house where she's lived for 83 years, 100-year-old Ida Hoover sat down at the piano.
She played me a tune.
As I glanced over recent birthday greetings to her from Laura Bush and Elizabeth Dole, Hoover got into "O, Come, Angel Band."
There was no telling how many times she'd played this old favorite over the years.
But she acted like it was a brand-new number. She poured passion onto the keyboard.
Doris Skidmore, who was seated beside me, remembered a relative's comment about her mother's performance style.
"He said she played piano like Ray Charles," Skidmore said. "She puts her whole body into it."
Twice a week, Hoover sits down at the piano and entertains folks at the nearby Stanley Total Living Center, playing everything from "In the Garden" to "God Bless America."
She also performs occasionally at Christ Lutheran Church in Stanley where she's a member.
The piano became part of Hoover's life 88 years ago when she began taking lessons at 75 cents a pop. The money came from her grandfather, Monroe Dallas Clemmer, who'd been wounded at the Battle of Gettysburg in 1863.
The ex-Confederate loved music and noticed his little granddaughter had a spark of musical talent. So he gave her this gift: part of his Civil War pension to pay for her piano lessons.
Hoover has shared the gift of music ever since. She has played at funerals, birthdays and church socials. She even entertained sick friends by playing hymns over a phone. It was, she said, like taking them to church. I recently visited Hoover shortly after her 100th birthday. Hitting that mark is relatively common these days. I've interviewed a lot of folks who've made it that far, but few with as much energy and positive thinking as Hoover.
We sat in the living room of her two-story farm house near Stanley. Skidmore told me that on Mother's Day the room would be full of family and food. Hoover used to do all the cooking, but her daughters talked her into letting visitors bring covered dishes.
When the subject of food came up, Hoover remembered her childhood and the sweet potatoes her mother warmed in the oven for after-school snacks.
As other faces drifted back into her memory, I could see the sense of wonder flickering in her eyes.
"I never dreamed I would be 100," Hoover said. "My life has been a big dream."
Community connection
Here's a dream-like image from Hoover's childhood: a little girl running across a meadow near Dallas; disturbing a goose and gander that raise such a racket Sarah and Etta Pasour look outside their farm house."Ida's coming" they yell. "Ida's coming."
The story surfaced in Hoover's memory a few years ago as Skidmore interviewed her mother for a church project.
The Pasours were neighbors who gave little Ida magazines and treats when she came for a visit.
Years later, Hoover would play piano at the funerals of these two women.
I've started thinking of Hoover's life as a musical piece that embodies themes in our region over the last 100 years -- fields and factories and constant change.
Born in 1908, she grew up on a farm near Dallas. She was in a field gathering sweet potatoes the day bells rang in the community to announce the end of World War I. The wheels of change spun faster in peacetime.
The farm life continued after Hoover married Reuben Hoover. She moved to his rural home outside Stanley and lived there with him and his elderly parents.
Food came from the farm. It was still an era when summer found itinerant workers stopping by the farm with big threshing machines to gather the wheat and oats. Hoover fed them in the same room where we sat and talked -- at a table filled with fried chicken, green beans, corn, tomatoes and much more.
But times changed and farming got tougher. The Hoovers, who had five children, had to adapt. Reuben Hoover found other jobs such as working at Morris Field in Charlotte and later with J.P. Stevens textiles in Stanley. Ida Hoover went with the children's department at Matthews-Belk in Gastonia.
One thing didn't change: her connection to the community.
Life goes on
Hoover always had time for the sick and families in need. Her homegrown azaleas were gifts to friends and still blossom in the community, along with the music she shared.
As I listened to the details of Hoover's long and productive life, I looked at an old family photo. In the center, standing tallest, is her granddaddy, who survived the bloody battle at Gettysburg.
Wearing a bonnet, Hoover is a baby in the arms of her father, Edward Mauney. Close by is her mother, Etta Mauney.
Ida Hoover learned from her parents and the other family members, and passed along the most valuable lessons to her children. Family and community shaped her life so far, and it keeps rolling on like a dream and a song.
In My Opinion Joe DePriest
