Words of Wisdom from Mary Gannam Saraf Beecher

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Mary Gannam Saraf Beecher (1910-2000) in her back yard at 311 Paradise Drive in Savannah, Georgia in 1987. Oliver is videotaping her (trying not to let her know) Kim is interviewing (trying to record her words of wisdom for her descendants and for some reason her Georgia accent become prominent). Also present are Ashley and Christopher Peters, Mary Ann Saraf Fischer, Jayne Swiderski Fischer and Robbie Fischer, Jr. and of course, Maurice and Gigi, the French poodles.

Tribute to Mary Gannam Saraf Beecher presented at the Family Reunion in 1989.

Whether you know her as sister, Aunt Mary, Grandma or Cousin, Mary Gannam, Saraf, or Beecher, she is my mom and the mom of eight of us.

She is one of a kind, never to be duplicated with her delightful wit and lively humor.

Her cheerful spirit is full of the joy that at the age of 79 she brings to all she meets. Born in Manchester, New Hampshire on June 19, 1910, this lovely black-haired, brown-eyed little girl was the child of immigrant parents from Lebanon.

Mary (Hamemi in Lebanese) was the second daughter of Karem and Annie Gannam, the first having perished from starvation in Lebanon along with her grandmother, with whom she was staying during World War I. Her brothers, Anthony, Nazer and George were also born in Manchester.

In 1919, when Mary was nine, her family moved to Savannah – an economic necessity. Times were hard and better times and conditions were being sought. They settled on a small farm in a little shanty of a house at 53rd and Hopkins streets. Air-conditioned year round by the natural cracks and crevices in walls and windows, doors and roof, this little wooden structure was their home when Michael, the youngest brother was later born. She attended 38th Street School through the fourth grade, when she quit and never returned for she was needed at home to work the farm and harvest crops and cart them to market.

Her family was poor and times were hard, and in those days, in foreign cultures, it was thought more important that sons be educated and daughters work at home. And so it was. And when Mary reached 16 she was only five feet tall with long jet black hair and those big brown Lebanese eyes.

As is the custom in the Old Country, her marriage to George Saraf, an Armenian fleeing from the Turkish massacres in his homeland, was arranged by her parents and she was wed on June 15, 1927. With her husband, she worked hard in their confectionary and fruit stands in various locations in Old Savannah. She bore her first daughter at 17 – a stillbirth. At 18 years, she had a second daughter, Phyllis. Then came a child each year – fourteen in all – of which seven survived. They were: Phyllis, Philip, Antoinette, Mary Anne, Rose, George, and Antoine.

When Mary was only 31, married just fourteen years, her husband George was fatally shot in a burglary attempt on Friday, June 13, 1941, while working at his ice cream shop on West Broad and Duffy streets. Mary was left a widow with seven children – the oldest 12 and the youngest 11 months – with another one on the way. In the trauma and grief that followed, she lost the child she carried. Barely had she recovered when on December 7, 1941, her brother George was killed at Pearl Harbor in the Japanese sneak attack.

The shock of it all took its toll, but she knew she had to carry on for the sake of her children. And so, she continued to operate the ice cream shop with the help of her brother Mike and George Tabakian, whose parents had introduced George to her family. Then eighteen months later, another tragedy – her mother died from a stroke brought on by the grief she suffered over the loss of her son and from which she never fully recovered. The family grieved her loss and Mary, hurt and suffering, picked up her life and carried on.

Harold Beecher came into her life and became her husband a year later. They converted the ice cream store into a package shop, more profitable during World War II. She bore him a son who died at birth, and a year later, a daughter.

They sold the shop and opened a grocery store and package shop at Mills B. Lane and Hopkins streets which they operated several years until Harold went to Memorial Hospital as an engineer and Mary stayed home with the children. One by one, the children married and she was blessed with grandchildren from the start.

Mary was married 37 years when Harold, wracked by emphysema, left her once again a widow. Mom is a survivor and she lives alone at her home on Paradise Drive. She is surrounded with the love and respect of her eight children, 25 grandchildren and 27 great grandchildren. Her home is always filled with the sights and sounds of family and delicious aromas never cease to come from her kitchen where she pursues her occupation – her avocation – her pride and joy to please all who enter in with her delectably seasoned dishes, both Lebanese and American.

If ever an award should be given a woman, in addition for being a wonderful mom, is an award for perfection in the Culinary Arts. She is truly unsurpassed. No one, but no one, can add just that right amount of garlic or pepper or that special dash of olive oil or lemon juice to achieve that perfect dish as mom can! And no one will ever match the perfection of her special barbecue sauce. Her cooking skills will bear her lasting testimony. Her children, family and friends attest to that.

God bless her, keep her well and lively with her many colorful expletives and figures of speech that would make a sailor blush, but delight us and bring many smiles to our sometimes solemn faces. May she keep on laughing and telling all those wild and riotous jokes! And, Oh, Lord, please keep her cooking!

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