Grandma's Storm Cellar Became My Playhouse

My paternal Grandmother, Jean Ella Doyle Riddle, was born on June 12, 1894, and lived to be only 70 years.  She passed from this world into Heaven on September 15, 1964.  I am approaching 70 this year, but Grandma seemed so much older when she was 70.  She seemed old to me when she was 55, which was about the time I went to live with my grandparents.  Grandmothers seemed older in those days.  After all, she had given birth to 10 or 11 children, two which died right after birth or very early in their infancy, and she raised nine children plus one.  She gave birth to one set of twin girls next in line after my Father, Elmo John.  Grandma worked hard on their farm, picking cotton, clearing fields, and raising kids.  She was a true Oklahoma pioneer woman.  She never wore makeup, except for a little too much rouge and white powder on Sunday.  Her hair was very long and worn in a bun, so she basically looked like a "granny" but we never called her that. 

Grandma was terrified of storms.  I believe she must have lived through some very bad storms growing up in Indian Terroritory in the 1800's.  I am sure the first thing she did when she and Grandpa moved to town and bought that little five-room house on the corner of "Dirt & Main" was to build a storm cellar.  Not only was it a safe haven from storms, it was a place to store her "canning" she put away for the long winters.  It had a cot with blanket and pillow and several wooden stools for "guests" who came knocking once a heavy storm whipped up.  There was also a kerosene lantern.

On the other hand, Grandpa was not afraid of storms and would sleep right through the worst of them.  Storms always happened at night, and she would yank me from my little bed out of a sound sleep and head me towards the cellar, which was conveniently 10 to 12 steps from our back door.  We didn't have siren warnings for storms and tornadoes in those days, but she sensed when storms were brewing.  I'm not talking about a high-wind tornado because it didn't take much more than a good strong wind, and we'd be in that storm cellar.  Many times I begged her to let me stay in the house with Grandpa but she would hear nothing of it.  I remember only once Grandpa went to the storm cellar so it must have been a very bad storm that night. I felt safer with him there.  Even though my Grandma was so fearful of storms, that fear was not passed down to me too much, except when those tornado sirens blow, I get a little nervous and head for a safer spot in our home.   Remember kids?  We spent several nights in the hallway or in the bathtub at our old house covered in blankets and pillows.  Some fun huh? 

Kids, picture me in my nightgown, hair in curlers, blanket wrapped around me down in the storm cellar, and neighbors banging on the cellar door.  Grandma would tightly hold that rope but never turned anyone away.  At times it got pretty crowded down there and we would be literally stacked on top of each other.  I think there was some praying going on many times too.

However, there were great uses for that storm cellar when there were no storms--it became my playhouse.  I furnished it with my little tin dish sets, my dolls and doll clothes and would play down there for hours at a time.  Grandma must have sprayed DDT occasionally for bugs and spiders because I never noticed any, or maybe I didn't think about it at the time--or snakes!  The storm cellar was where Tinkerbell, my cat, would go to have her kittens in a box we made ready for her.  It was so much fun to find a new litter of kittens and I loved it when they would hiss at me when I'd pick them up before their little eyes were open.  They were so cute, but cats never stayed around very long except for Tinkerbell.  I'm not sure what happened to them, but I really don't want to know.  I assumed they ran away and found new homes or something (or worse) but I enjoyed playing with them as long as they were around.  One of the male toms stayed around for a very long time and I would dress him in doll clothes, but one morning he didn't come home, so I guess he found a new place to live.

The storm cellar was a great place to play when I was small, and when I became a teen, it was a special place to hang my 8x10 glossy, autographed prints of Ricky Nelson, Elvis, James Dean and Marilyn.  When my cousins and siblings came to visit, we always headed to my Playhouse in Grandma's Storm Cellar.

And kids, in case you're wondering, the answer is NO, I never took any boys down there.  My Grandmother watched me like the "proverbial hawk" and even if I had the slightest inclination to do so, I did not!  This, I solemnly vow to you.  

Love, Your Mom & Nana