Photo by: Ellen Hall, Summer 2010Thanksgiving 1996. That was the first time I met Anna. I drove down to Pulaski, Virginia from Aurora, New York in a lime green Honda Civic Hatchback (Why I had that car is not worth going into right now, but I shouldn't have had that car). Did it really take 14 hours? Did I really cross the Mason-Dixon line? I know I stopped talking once I did when I had to stop to fill up the tank. I kept to very few words. It was my first time south and I was a little scared, I'll admit my prejudice.
It was also the first time I was going to have Thanksgiving with Ellen and her family. Ellen's family included her two sons and former husband. I brought the wine. We had been together about a year.
Ellen was at Anna's apartment when I got there, having driven down a day or so earlier to visit. As I pulled up I saw her van and knew I had arrived. I got out of that car that I should not have ever had and walked to the door.
The main door was the kitchen door and it smelled delicious when Ellen opened it. My first memory of Anna is of her in her kitchen that afternoon, her big smile, and warm greeting asking, "Would you like some pie?"
Over the next 15 years it was a privilege and honor to know Anna Snider. She embraced me as one of her own. I know this because she would send me a $10 dollar bill for Christmas for years, until she could no longer do the things she always did. She loved talking about her homeplace and no one could have loved southwest Virginia more than Anna.
Up here in Auburn, New York she was known as the kind and gracious "southern lady." That she was, but she was also stubborn. She never said, "No," she just did "No" quietly. At those times, I was sure she had a little Puerto Rican in her.
Descansa en paz, Anna.
Photo by: Clinton Hild
