By Mary Ann Ellis
My mother never learned to drive a car, even though Daddy offered frequently to teach her, and I couldn’t understand her reluctance. If she had realized how much faster she could have hurried in a car, she’d have learned eagerly. Mama was always in a hurry. She arose at 4 a.m. to start her day. She’d have a huge wash flapping on the line before she threw the bacon in the pan, scrambled the eggs, and awakened the rest of us. When we went to Jacksonville to meet her relatives at the zoo (the relatives lived near the zoo, not in it), she wanted to leave at 4 a.m. so we could beat the morning traffic and hurry back home before it got too late. As we cousins watched the elephants feeding on hay and stared in awe at the crocodiles, Mama checked her watch.