One of my most favorite people ever died Sunday and I’m truly going to miss her. Mrs. Martha Reed had been bringing me vegetables, fresh from her garden, probably since the day I first stepped foot in this office in January of 2009.
I think she turned 93 years old this year and was still doing her best to have a garden, even if it just meant sitting out by it and watching things grow. She loved to watch things grow. Her daddy, and her late husband, Robert, taught her how to garden, she told me many times.
As I’ve said before in this space, I knew it was going to be a good day when the front doorbell would ring at the office and I heard a big booming voice proclaim, “where’s the turnip man?” That meant Mrs. Martha had come to town and had, more likely than not, brought along a mess of fresh greens, with some nice size turnips attached or a very large head of cabbage.
She always brought me the cream of the crop, I think, and I would always snap a picture of her with her handiwork, like we had been doing for years, and show them off in the paper. She was always dressed in a photo-worthy outfit...just in case. During the COVID lock down in 2020 she still showed up at the office with a box of goodies.
I remember one time in particular when the thunder roared outside, the lightning flashed in the sky, the rain poured down, that doorbell rang, and I heard that voice, and those words. I wrote about it in my column that week.
“What are you doing out in this weather,” I asked. “It wasn’t raining when we got these,” Mrs. Martha, replied, and handed over a big bunch of greens, with those plump, sweet, purple and white turnips. She knew I wanted them and she was always willing to oblige. Usually she has a little something for anyone else in the office, when there was someone else still in the office.
Some readers may remember a story about her gardening skills in 2017 when we did a feature on her in the pages of this paper. That story was prompted by one of her visits to the office with a three-and-a-half-pound whopper of a turnip. I commented on my fondness of fresh turnips at the time, she gave that one to me, and every season after that I was a regular beneficiary of some of her garden goods.
One time she dropped by with a seven-and-a-half-inch cucumber and she boasted of having raised a four pound sweet potato several years before that.
“I garden to honor them,” she said of her husband and father,” and apparently she honored them in mighty fine fashion.
In addition to stopping by to drop off some of her bounty, I always knew to expect her around the first of November. Every year since November 25, 2003 when her husband died, she would run an “In Memory” ad with a picture of Mr. Robert and a few words honoring his memory. “In Memory of Mr. Robert Reed May 1, 1901 - November 25, 2003,” it would read, “It has been (number) years now since God called you home. We are so thankful for you and all we shared. We miss you and love you dearly. From your wife, Martha Reed and the family.”
“I think more people need to get back to the old ways of sitting on their porch, shelling peas and raising our own food,” Reed said in that 2017 interview. “We need to take care of ourselves, live by God’s word and stop all this killing mess. People need to find something productive to do. I never see the need for being on a phone and gossiping or some of the other things people do.”
Wise words from a wise woman I thought then as I still do today.
Every year I struggle with my little garden — although I did grow a Jack-in-the-Beanstalk worthy 16-foot tall tomato vine next to the kitchen porch one summer — and there she was pushing 90 and still going strong. When I told Mrs. Martha once that I had planted some greens she said something along the line of “oh, I’ve already got turnips on mine.”
I didn’t. Mine were still only about an inch or two tall and probably needed thinning but, unlike Mrs. Martha, I’m lazy when it comes to gardening. As I’ve said multiple times over the years, I just don’t like to hoe and that’s that!
Earlier this year some of Mrs. Martha’s family brought her by to see me. I think she was paying for her subscription or something along that line, but, honestly, I believe in my heart that she came to tell me goodbye. She knew her days were numbered, she said so that day, and as the dear, sweet woman she was, wanted to say so long from one friend to another, face to face, person to person.
I wish I could hug her one more time.
So, now, I suppose, I’ll keep a closer eye on my little turnip patch in her honor, and the few tomato plants I’m still babysitting as well. I’m going to have to try a little harder now that my friend is gone. Now that the doorbell won’t be ringing and Mrs. Martha Reed calling out “the turnip man” from the front counter.
Rest in peace, my dear friend, rest in peace reunited with your Robert that you so sorely missed. I’ll think of you every time the doorbell rings.
Visitation for Mrs. Martha Reed is Wednesday, October 22, 2025 from 11:00 a.m. until 5:00 p.m. at Mapp Funeral Home in Forest. The service is Thursday, October 23, 2025 at 2:00 p.m.
