Granny blew the whistle

Granny Nancy McClamroch

Every Friday, I write about my Granny, Nancy McClamroch.  She’s in Heaven.  More here.

Mommy told me Granny couldn’t stand hearing people scream outside for their kids to come home.

She said she would never holler for her kids. She had a better idea.

In the 70s, Granny bought an industrial strength whistle.  

When she wanted her kids to come home, she stood on the front porch, drew in a deep breath and then blew that whistle as hard as she could.

Then she’d head to the back porch and do the same.  All the neighborhood kids knew the whistle meant the McClamroch kids needed to get home.

It worked like a grapevine.  Even if the kids were too far to hear the whistle, other kids heard it.

Those kids told other kids until it got back to mommy and her brother that they needed to go home.

Granny kept that whistle on her key chain.

I guess Granny’s whistle was sort of like a cow bell calling folks to chow.  That’s cool.

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