Her name was Louise

I finally read the bestselling book "The Help" and I have been thinking a lot lately about Louise. Louise was the woman that used to clean our house when we were first married. She only came once a week mainly because she had other folks for whom she cleaned on other days and, once a week was probably all we could afford back in those days anyway.

The first time I met Louise was when picking Carol up for our second date. It was a bit of an intimidating experience. Louise was just about to leave Carol's parent's house after cleaning all day. She was packing up her personal items and placing some things into her familiar Igloo cooler. After Carol introduced me to her and told her that we were going out on a date, Louise proceeded to rearrange the contents of her cooler and took some of the items out. About the same time Louise was interrogating me about where we were going, what time we would be home and basically, what my intentions were...she flashed the .22 caliber handgun that she always had packed in her cooler. I think this gun is known as a Saturday Night Special. I'll be honest, this was the first time I had ever had a gun pulled on me. This rotund, elderly black woman was going to make sure nothing happened to her sweet Carol. Promising nothing but good things for the evening, we left.

Louise had been the Williams' cleaning lady for almost all of Carol's life. But she was so much more than that. She was nearly as responsible in raising the Williams sisters as Carol's parents were. She was a fixture in the Williams' home and even moved with the family to Atlanta while they briefly lived there. Only many years later did Carol know that Louise had a family of her own. But Louise was needed in Atlanta so...she went.

From our first date to our wedding was a short five months. Carol didn't want a formal wedding so we decided to get married at her parent's home and, aside from her parents and the preacher, there were only seven other people that we invited to attend the ceremony in the living room. Louise was one of them. Louise was dressed up in her Sunday best (even though it was a Wednesday night.) The wig she wore gave her hair three times the volume as normal. She was fully dolled up with make up and lipstick and she didn't spare any perfume. One of her babies was getting married and she wasn't about to miss it or look anything other than her best. She even brought her boom box and recorded us speaking our vows to one another. At the end of our very modest ceremony she declared "they jus as married as if day had a big fat weddin!" You know what? After nearly 29 years of being married, she was exactly right.

After a few weeks, we asked Louise if she had any days available to clean our house for us as it just seemed natural that Louise would be a part of our new household while she continued to be a part of Carol's parents'. Louise would come one day a week and clean the house from top to bottom. I always got a kick out of Carol the night before Louise was to come. We would have to clean up the house. This never made any sense to me until Carol admitted that she didn't want Louise to see our house looking messy or untidy. Louise's opinion mattered a lot to Carol.

I have another admission...Louise continued to intimidate me even after she became our cleaning lady. I would intentionally stay late at work so I would have a better chance of getting home after she had left, although she would often stay late. Even in her advanced years, Louise was very thorough and meticulous in her cleaning. The house where we first lived had carpet in every room except the bathroom and kitchen. After Louise finished vacuuming the carpet, she would take a broom and sweep the carpet to make all of the marks left by the vacuum cleaner disappear. The only problem was if you later walked across the carpet, your shoes would leave imprints in the now pristine carpet nap. She would follow behind me as I came through the house sweeping away my footprint indentations. I always assumed she was irritated that I was messing up her handiwork.

Louise was still with us through the births of both of our children and they loved her as much as we did. We have cherished photos and video of Louise holding, playing with, or feeding Jessica and Michael when they were little ones. She always came by at Thanksgiving and Christmas, dressed up as pretty as she was the night of our wedding. Louise was family to us. When she died, there was never a discussion about attending the funeral. Other than Carol's family, the only other white people there were a handful of other folks that she cleaned for. Her family sincerely thanked all of us for being there.

After reading "The Help" I have wondered what Louise would have said given the opportunity to add her thoughts on what it was like to work for a white family during the 60's, 70's and 80's in Georgia. I wonder if she ever felt like she was only "the help." The Williams never treated Louise in a way to make her feel like she wasn't respected and, in fact, loved. I wonder if all the families that hired her treated her this way? Thinking back on the years we were fortunate to have Louise in our home, our lives were enriched by her hard work, her down home advice on child-rearing and care, her companionship, and even her occasional cooking of chicken and rice (I would eat it by the tablespoons-ful right out of the pan when no one was watching.) No one could make it like her.

Louise was a special person in our lives. How did she feel about being a black woman cleaning the houses of white people? I don't know...I wish I had asked her.

The Help by Kathryn Stockett