Introduction by Ruth Bell
Graham
Ethel Waters — I can still hear her rich, rollicking, uninhibited laughter. Her comments on people and situations were always worth listening to. Her wisdom and common sense were phenomenal.
One of my first experiences with Ethel came during the New York Crusade. Mother Graham and her sister had come up, and it was Aunt Lil's first trip out of North Carolina. At a Team luncheon I asked Ethel to share a table with the three of us. I'm quite sure it was the first time either Mother Graham or Aunt Lil had eaten at the same table with a black woman. But true Southern ladies that they were, they welcomed her graciously.
Ethel was in rare form that day. Mother Graham asked about her childhood and Ethel took off! (Fortunately both Mother Graham and Aunt Lil were quite deaf, but even if they took in all that was said, they genteelly preferred to ignore it.) Ethel told in graphic detail how she came onto the scene because her mother had been raped as a child of twelve, how her grandmother did not discover the fact since her mother's periods had not even begun and she was afraid to tell anyone what had happened. She only got larger and larger until suddenly Ethel arrived.
All this time Mother Graham and Aunt Lil were smiling and nodding pleasantly — probably not understanding a word
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of what they were hearing. It reminded me of the time in London when someone said to Mother Graham, "London is such a wicked place," and she replied, "My! How lovely!"
Ethel was a real trooper. A pro.
One fall we had her in Montreat for a concert. She was not well at the time, but nobody knew it. When I visited her in her hotel room, she was in bed — totally collapsed. Although she had lost quantities of weight since the first New York Crusade, she still slightly resembled a beached whale when lying exhausted on the bed.
During our conversation, someone arrived to talk about the concert that evening. You never saw such a transformation! Suddenly she came to life, sitting bolt upright. But when the official left, she collapsed.
That night we had an oxygen tank for her backstage, as well as a place where she could stretch out. I wondered if she could manage But when she was introduced, she strode onto the stage to an enormous ovation, her well-known, well-loved face sparkling with her famous smile, and chuckled into the microphone before she gave her inimitable "Hi!" From that moment on she was in command.
Throughout the entire program she talked about her precious, beloved Savior and what Jesus had done for her and meant to her. Then she retired backstage and collapsed, utterly weary, breathing deeply from the oxygen tank.
The next to last time I saw Ethel, Twila Knaack drove me to her apartment. She was waiting for us in a loose, comfortable dressing gown, her long white hair, thick but still beautiful, hanging down her back. It was comforting to see that Twila was like a daughter to her.
Ethel reminisced a lot that day. She showed me a picture of her father's mother who was Pennsylvania Dutch. The resemblance between the two women was startling. The living room, charming, comfortable, but unpretentious, was filled with pictures and mementos of her long and varied life. It was a time for asking questions and listening.
One does not often have the privilege of listening to an Ethel Waters.
