Leonard Roberts: Husband and Father

Leonard Roberts: Husband and Father by Rita H. Kelly Leonard Roberts in front of classroom door 12 Each of us remembers Leonard Roberts in her own way, for the special things he did with each of us as well as the typical memories of his everyday actions. To his family he was special. To us he was funny. With us he never lost his temper, and always provided what we needed. Each of his daughters is remarkably like him in many ways. Our love of music, our love of things artistic, our respect for education , even our use of certain words is a heritage from Leonard Roberts. This past Christmas season most of his family were together for the holidays. Naturally, we reminisced about Dad. I recorded a conversation about life with Leonard Roberts from a perspective no one else can share. The following pages are excerpts from that conversation. Present during the recording were Edith Roberts, his wife (Mom); Sue Atkins, eldest daughter; Lynneda Denny, youngest daughter (Lynne); and I, Rita Kelly, third daughter. Margaret Biller, second daughter, could not be with the rest of us. I must confess I have not been the true folklorist in these excerpts. These are not word-for-word transcriptions, nor is everything of our Christmas Day conversation included. I have acted as editor as well as participant in the conversation. Pardon me if this reads something like field notes—it is. Sue: We would walk lots of places at Berea. When I had to walk with Dad—now, that would have been when I was between first and fourth grades. He had these big old long legs and I would walk to death trying to keep up with him. He didn't slow down, it seemed like, for me at all. And so here I'm going floopfloopfloopfloopfloopfloop, and his legs were going floop...floop... floop...floop. He'd be holding my arm, but he'd hold me at the wrist. He wouldn't hold my hand, he'd hold my wrist. I would talk to him, say this or that or something, and just in a little bit he'd go flip and make my hand hit my face. Rita: He did that to every one of us! Mom: He did that to me, too! Sue: He didn't do it a lot. But you never knew when to expect it either. (Laughter) Lynne: What pet names did he have for you guys? I remember "punkin'" and "papoose." Mom: He called you all "papoose." You were all papooses. Rita: We were squaws after a while. Then when we objected to that lowly status, he called us braves. Lynne: A bunch of the Army must have really rubbed off on him, because he used a lot of military terminology. Like,"Let's police up the area," and "who has latrine duty?" Do y'all remember those terms? Sue: The "police up the area" I remember, but I don't remember the "latrine duty." Lynne: I think I must have been in charge of cleaning the bathrooms from time to time, because he'd come and stare at me and say, "Who has latrine duty?" Rita: He'd ask me about K.P. when I had the kitchen. 13 Lynne: I remember the most memorable philosophical discussion I ever had with Dad. I don't recall promoting this discussion. I felt like this was one of those times when he had something to say to me. We were in Pikeville at the time. He lectured me for a good hour and a half about how the arts are the salvation of the world. Through the Dark Ages and all the times when science wasn't doing anything and man wasn't progressing to any true avail—whether history recorded or not—people had their art. That people should stick by their art and people should do their art at all times. And that impressed on me tremendously why he went to the lengths that he did to attain his degree in such an obscure thing—at the time when he got his degree—as folklore. His true inner feeling was that humans should...