Maggie Mills, A Newspaper Reporter (But More Importantly My Mom)

When I was growing up, I never understood why Mom seemed to know everyone and everyone seemed to know her.  To me, she was the person who made me tuna fish sandwiches every school day because I hated school lunches, she was the one who made sure I took a bath everyday and dressed me in freshly ironed Polly Flinder dresses, and she was the person that told incredible stories at night when she tucked me in bed.  I knew she had a day job at a newspaper but in the beginning I knew not what she did.  I only heard soft negative murmurings from Dad's side of the family that Mom was "a working woman" or that "the doctors feel that she will be fine if she has an outlet for all her creative energies".

I now know that when I was 6, Mom, a stay at home mother living in a really rural area, had a mental breakdown the winter I was in first grade.  She stayed in the hospital from January to June of that year and the three of us girls were shipped to Dad's Mom up in Dorchester.  Although we were surrounded by all Dad's loving siblings,  things just weren't the same.  I can remember the day we were brought back to Carver and Mom was sitting in a rocking chair...I couldn't believe my eyes.  She looked just the same...but happier somewhat.  It was shortly after that that she became a reporter for the Old Colony Memorial in Plymouth, Mass.  As soon as the school bus left, Mom would head off to work.  When we arrived home in the afternoon, Fran, my oldest sister would mind us till Mom came home at 5.  In the beginning I never told any of my classmates that my Mom worked...the whole concept of mothers working outside the home was completely alien to them and they might think I was different or something was wrong with Mom...and I didn't want that.  So it was my little secret until one day in fifth grade, Allan Ballard, a classmate yelled at me and said, "You think your so smart just because your Mom is a big time writer for the newspaper!  Well, my Dad says she's a woman and she doesn't know anything.  He thinks she should stay at home...that's what he thinks.  She likes Blacks, she's Catholic, and she wants to raise taxes...." He never got any further, I turned around and gave him the biggest punch in the face I could muster and yelled at him, "And what does your Mom do...wash your diapers?"  I have to admit, Mrs. Wright sent me to Mr. Shaw and he did give me a lecture about using my fist and then he hugged me and said, "Principles, Bob...your Mom stands up for principles.  We would not have this new school if it wasn't for your Mom.  Through her writing, she changes things.  I have great respect for your Mom."  Then he sent me back to class.  Alan wanted to know what had happened in the principal's office and I just smiled, "You know Allan he has this chair, big chair you know, and it has electric wires attached to it...and Mr. Shaw said if you ever say anything nasty about my Mom again, he's going to sit you in it!"  Big lie...but it worked...nobody ever said anything mean about my Mom again!

So, now you know.  Back in the fifties, I had a working Mother.... probably the only kid in town that did!   Today I was over to her house looking at some of her things and thought, "Why not take some pictures  of her articles."  She was pleased as we got out all the old papers...and awards

This is the Horace Greely Award that was presented to Mom in 1997 for her  series "Time Lines" and her "Then and Now" pictures.

In "Time Lines" Mom wrote about growing up in Plymouth during the depression.  Her articles give a candid portrayal of her family and her community.

This is an article about her Mom she wrote for a Mother's Day edition.  In the picture you can see my Aunt Mariam and my Gramma (with the scarf).

Another time she wrote about her father...a gambler and a bootlegger!

Imagine, my grandfather also didn't follow rules!

Although the following is faded, I wanted to show Mom as a young woman.

Mom graduated from high school in 1935.  Today she is the lone survivor of her class.

Mom always said she wanted to die at her desk at the newspaper writing a column.  But her wish was not granted.  In October, 2004, Mom fell at work and although she did not break anything, she badly sprained her leg and couldn't walk.  She spent six weeks at the Braintree Rehab Center and underwent several tests.  At a consultation, the doctors explained to us that it really wasn't the leg that was the problem, it was that Mom was in the early stages of Alzheimer's Disease. Over the past two years we have watched this dreaded disease advance in the mind of our Mother.  She has wonderful days when she remembers most everything and other days when she knows not whether I am married or not or whether I have children.  She still lives "independently" in her own house but she goes to "Club" four days a week as well as having "ladies coming to visit"!  My sisters and I provide all the meals and do her laundry (she changes her sheets everyday) and my neice Shannon takes care of her finances.  But she is living alone at 90 years of age...and in her mind, she is still independent.  I don't know for how long, we take it day by day....

Happy Mother's Day Mom!