Going through my late mom’s huge box of photographs not long after she passed away, I came across a good number from her school days. Several were identified with a friend’s nickname, “Mutt.” Finding that somewhat offensive and unusual—after mulling things over, I recognized the valid reason.
Mutt & Jeff was a popular cartoon from the early 1900s until it ended in 1982. The two characters were inseparable friends always getting themselves into hot water. A new definition for Mutt & Jeff is: mismatched people. Mom and Mutt were definitely that. I believe she received occasional letters from her school chum for quite some time. Mom’s nickname is “Lola” and I’m sure that goes back to high school.
Mearle Elaine Crossley was Mutt’s real name, and in some of those early shots, she appears much taller than her classmate. My mother was not much over five feet tall. They were extremely close pals as shown in the old photographs along with from-the-heart messages penned on a few. Mearle had written, “Always love you” on the front of one.
In a fading black & white image, the mischievous Ms. Crossley is shown sitting in the middle of a newly paved road. In another, she appears quite comfortable riding on top of a No Parking sign. Those are my two favorite images because it rekindled like memories for me and a good pal.
My best friend in high school was also named Jeff. Sometimes, friends referred to us as Mutt & Jeff, because like the actual cartoon characters, we were inseparable and always getting into trouble. I have photos of us, not just sitting in the middle of a road like Mearle Crossley, but lying in the middle of the Seward Highway in sleeping bags, as well as hanging from a sign in Hope, Alaska. I found Mom’s crazy photos of Merle Crossley, and those of Jeff Thimsen, to be quite ironic.
One young man in a number of shots with Mother and her friend is a burly looking fellow named, Bilbo Jackson. Over the years, I recall Mom and her sisters mentioning the unusual name and giggling like little girls. I didn’t know it at the time, but it turns out Bilbo liked my mom enough to ask her to marry him. That was kept secret from me. I only found this out from a cousin.
I did newspaper research on Bilbo Jackson discovering that he eventually wed someone from Mississippi—this before heading off to fight in the Korean War. Upon Jackson’s return to the US, he became a heavy equipment operator in Iowa for 50 years. Bilbo died in 2008 at the age of 79.
Searching through old newspaper archives for, Mearle Crossley-Pognetti-Barbour, I found that she had six children, 16 grandchildren, and two great grandchildren at the time of her death in 2014. She was 83 and outlived her two friends. Mom died in 2010 at the age of 78.
I wrote a story for “The Lamar Democrat” almost ten years ago titled, “Mutt.” It pretty much details what I’ve just explained in this one. This newspaper is located in Vernon, Alabama, and that’s where Mearle, Bilbo, and Mom grew up.
Just recently, I received an email from Steve Mitchener in Mississippi. Steve’s married to one of Mearle’s daughters, Rebecca. He wanted to know if I was the one writing that newspaper article. After telling him it was me, and mentioning I had some photos, he was excited to get copies, as the girls lost early photographs of their mom in a housefire.
My writing has a way of sometimes paying rewards in unusual fashion. This simplistic story about two good friends is one of them. Undoubtedly, Steve and his wife are happy, and I’m sure Mearle, Bilbo, and Mom are looking down, chuckling at some of their antics on those old photographs, pleased that I’m still able to share them with others!
I like to write junk... 