Toot

My grandmother's name was Nettie Viola Firman Floria. I knew her as Toot. Others knew her a Fuzzy, but Toot was the name I called her. She was a strong woman. She was born in 1876 near Remus, MI and married my Grandfather Burt Floria around the turn of the century. She was 68 years old when I was born and lived another 16 years.

When I was a young boy my parents were gone quite often during the week. They might be at a mixed bowling league, some community activity, or other social engagement. As a result Toot babysat for me. Even when I went to the movies by myself I would walk back to Toot's apartment and spend the evening with her until my folks came by to pick me up and take me home.

Toot was a spry old lady. She was positive in her believe in Jesus and God and secure in the knowledge that she had done as good as she could and God would make a place for her. I am sure he did. I have no idea about the level of education she attained, but I wouldn't be surprised it was limited. She often told me that her father was an itinerant preacher who had an extensive library at home. She sometimes bemoaned the loss of that library in a house fire. Nonetheless Toot was an inquisitive soul who loved geography. When I was in elementary school at Lincoln in Munising the school would dispose of old textbooks at the end of the school year. Many times they sold these books for a couple of cents or a nickel. I would buy as many geography books as I could lay my hands on and take them to Toot.

Many an evening she I and would sit on an overstuffed couch made of a rough materials that was OK to sit on, but rough to the skin if you laid on the couch. She would drag out those worn geography books and we would sit and look at the pictures and speculate on how those folks lived, what they ate, how they survived? She had a lot of questions and would read and try to understand other people's circumstances around the world.

From time to time a traveling missionary would visit the local church and talk about the work being done in far off lands. Toot would attend those meetings and listen to the reports then speculate on how people got along in remote regions of our planet.

I believe my sense of curiosity was born in this old lady's apartment. As a young lad I enjoyed sitting and looking at those books with her.

She also had an old radio that had a shortwave feature. Many an evening we would turn that radio on to short wave and turn the dial. We would pick up radio broadcasts from various parts of the world and speculate on what language we were hearing. Perhaps we heard Spanish, Porteguese, or Russian. We had no idea. However, Toot wanted to know and would speculate about what was being said.

I think it is difficult to be in contact with that kind of curiosity and not have it rub off. I will always be grateful to that old lady of my blood. My good and gracious Grandmother, Toot.