I’ve started and deleted this post numerous times in my head. How does one even begin to honor one of their role models? The woman who has always been a constant and guided us through actions but would slip in several witty comments? GG, as we would later call her, would tell me to not sweat the small stuff and just start! So, here I am, attempting to write a post that will share some of my memories and paint of picture of the woman who impacted my life from the beginning, my Gramma.
Many people of the community will remember my Gramma. She may have been the one changing linens at the motel or cooking up pizzas at hotel Condon. In the back of their house at the motel, they had huuuuge tables to fold linens which is where I learned how to fold sheets. She also let me check in guests and I sure thought I was the coolest kiddo when I used the old school credit card machine with carbon copy receipts. At the hotel, she’d give us all the croutons and pizza cheese as payment for helping her.
Seeing my Gramma create the most delicious food, sparked my interest in cooking. While she was known for her baby backs and coleslaw, I loved her coconut shrimp. During the summer months, she introduce me to her signature smoothies and later on potato chips. If you’re ever craving potato chips and are not interested in the full bag, thinly slice potatoes, place on a paper towel and microwave until you reach the desired crunch!
When we are off for Summer vacation, Gramma would consistently come out to the house and bring me back to town to spend the day with her. The car she drove at the time had a feature that monitored the car speed and would tell the driver when they had gone over the limit. I could have sworn the reminder never turned off and I made sure Gramma knew she was speeding! One trip to The Dalles, I recall her telling me, “Now Darlin’, this is going to make a sound and I don’t want you to mention it at all!” Man, it was the longest trip of my life! When we weren’t headed out of town, I’d spend the afternoon with her in Condon, playing cribbage, reading and eventually her watching Judge Judy. Her home was always welcoming with vibrant wall colors, family photos and art. She always hand a bowl full of Dove chocolates and even at 36, I still stuff my pockets!
Gramma was always so proud of me and my sister, even til her last breath. There wasn’t a person who didn’t know about us and all that my sister and I were doing. In high school, the once Gramma who stayed home during my games quickly became the Gramma who was always in the stands. Graduation night she offered to let me have a sip of wine to take off the edge before my speech. I declined but took her up on her blessing to start cussing in front of her!!! đ
I went off to college in Arizona, a short drive to Gramma’s California headhquarters. She had a house on the golf course with a patio where we sat, drinking our coffee and watching the ducks roam. One trip I made in particular, she nearly convinced me to buy yellow Jimmy Choo stilettos. She reminded me we only have one life and do what makes you happy, even if that means $500+ shoes would sit in the closet. I couldn’t get myself to purchase shoes that would collect dust. Instead I went with her next designer suggestion, Dior sunglasses. She sure was a hip Gramma! Another trip my boyfriend at the time joined me. My Mom needed to find out the appropriate sleeping arrangements. My Gramma’s response, “Well if they’re doing it in Arizona, they can probably do it here!” I’m still not sure what she meant by “it”, but I left it alone!!! Other times, Gramma and I would go to the movies (she took me the the Hurt Locker), garage sales and trips to the local University to purchase dates.
Gramma was a big advocate for higher education. When I went off to PT school, I did not see her as much as I would have liked but she sent more emails and always included an update on the weather. And California grapefruit! She would put as many as she could fit into a flat rate box and send me enough citrus to feed 10 faces.
More recently, the roles started to reverse. I would email her, asking her what books she was reading. It always warmed my heart when I finished a book she had on her reading list. She could talk about anything and everything. And boy did we the last 1.5 years. I became the one cooking more and sharing my recipes and sourdough starter with her. Even giving her cooking tips. I am certain it is because she taught me so much when I was younger. Rather than her running my errands, I would stop by and get her mail or swing by her house just to say hi and get in a quick chat.
While I have my days when I don’t shed a tear, I have avoided a lot. I haven’t been by her house. I haven’t picked up many books and my cooking has slowed. I am struggling with the thought of her not answering the phone “Hi Darlin’!” Or who I will call when I have a cooking question. In fact, she was still answering my cooking question days before she passed away. I’m not sure who I will call when I have questions about my plants and tricks to revive them. Or who will give me the next must read book title. I have so much I know I will miss and already do. She was the one person who understood me before I even understood me. The one who was insightful with my writings. The first to check in on me. The email exchanges about how much we loved the southern weather and hated the fog. Damn was that woman so proud. In fact, she contacted the local newspaper for more prints of the article about me moving home and assisting with opening a physical therapy practice. She never mentioned this to us and we haven’t yet found the articles at her house. So we imagine she sent them to her friends to brag on what her granddaughters had been accomplishing.
Gramma stayed out of our business but never missed an opportunity to pass along her wisdom. In an email to me, she kindly suggested that my standards for myself were too high.
You may push yourself more than is necessary at times. Give yourself a break and a rest. Allow yourself to slack off now and again – the sun will still come up tomorrow and life goes on.
A wise, witty woman. When I think of her, I’ll think of so many things. But mainly to live life as “unapologetically Alice” because if I go that route, I will reflect on my life and believe I am the luckiest person on Earth. Just like she felt in her final days! I am sad I didn’t have more years with her and that she isn’t here to see how our lives play out. For now, I am always grateful to have had a Gramma who’s love for me was strong and constant until her last breath. Love you always, Gramma.
I cannot take credit for her obituary but for those interested, I wanted to share đ
Alice Anne Barnes
Alice Anne (McCall) Barnes lived life on her own terms, unapologetically, until her final breath.
The oldest of John and Payrlee (Huddleston) McCallâs three daughters, Alice was born August 11, 1935 on a sheep ranch in Lewis, Colorado.
During Alice’s formative years, the McCalls moved frequently – from Colorado to Idaho to Arizona to California – before putting down permanent roots in Sweet Home, Oregon.
Those who knew Alice later in life will be surprised to learn that she was once a farm girl in a small town, who worked the fields with a team of horses, stealing moments to read in the crook of an apple tree. She graduated from Sweet Home Union High School, where she once won the âI Speak for Democracyâ Speech Contest, and then briefly attended the University of Oregon.
In 1959, she met and married Ron Barnes. Together, they had a son, Scott, who joined daughter, Kimberley. The family made their home in Seattle; leaving briefly when Ronâs job took them to Wheaton, Illinois, outside of Chicago.
A voracious reader, when Alice and Ron were considering purchasing the Hotel Condon and moving from Seattle in 1973, she insisted she would never live anywhere that did not have a public library. Thankfully, Condon, Oregon did and she became a frequent patron, devouring stacks of books and often asking her granddaughters, âWhat are you reading?â
Alice filled her life with beauty and creativity. Her home was a gallery of sculptures and paintings by artists she admired, as well as posters from Art Slate, of which she was an avid, long-time supporter.
She was a gifted florist; creating stunning arrangements in her little shop in Condon – Flowers by Alice – and then later lending her talents to her familyâs projects and special occasions. Alice had a green thumb and spent hours tending to her garden and plants. She volunteered with the Condon Garden Club and as Flower Superintendent at the Gilliam County Fair.
Alice was a gourmand and first-rate chef. Her bookshelves were heavy with cookbooks, which she read like fiction, and she fed locals and visitors alike for many years at Aliceâs Place, which she ran with her husband. People would drive several hours and wait in line for a table when her baby back ribs were on the menu.
She was an astute and curious political observer and a life-long learner. Conversations with her were rich; covering current events, politics, interesting personalities and ideas she had recently read about, and even pop culture on occasion.
In her later years, Alice escaped Condonâs wintry weather – which she heartily disdained – by heading south to Thousand Palms, California. The annual migration helped her to stay connected to childhood friends, the âMarchbanks Kidsâ, who the McCalls had met in California when Alice was a girl and who now lived nearby. The families had moved together from California to Sweet Home, and Alice maintained the friendship for nearly 80 years.
Alice passed away peacefully, surrounded by love and her family, on Monday, December 27, 2021 in Rancho Mirage, California.
She is survived by daughter Kimberley Anne Farrar (Donald Farrar), granddaughters Elizabeth Anne Farrar Campbell (Brian Campbell) and Haylee Hope Farrar, great-granddaughter Ainsley Grace Campbell, sisters Esther Sullivan and Betty Sullivan, three nieces, six nephews, and several great- and great-great nieces and nephews. She was preceded in death by her husband Ron, son Scott, and parents John and Payrlee.
Memorial contributions can be made to the Gilliam County Libraryâs Imagination Library Program or the Condon Arts Council.