Myrtis Marie Williamson
December 8, 1912 - November 30, 1999
How shall we tell her story? This quiet, reserved, unique, wholly lovable woman rarely spoke of herself. She was always so young at heart; it was a shock to realize she was almost 87. We are indebted to her younger sister Audrey for the family history.
Myrtis was born in Gramercy, Louisiana, on the Mississippi river, in sugar-refining country. Her father, George, of English and Irish descent, achieved world renown as an inventor of the Williamson clarifiers for Godchaux refinery in nearby Reserve, where they moved when Myrtis was entering seventh grade. Her Acadian French mother, May Marie Boutte, "petite, but powerful," married George when she was sixteen. There were three brothers and two sisters when Myrtis was born; baby Audrey came later. It was a close and fun-loving family.
Rural Gramercy was known for its town pool and its champion swimmers, promoted by a New York chemist from the Colonial refinery. Myrtis excelled at swimming and diving. The family reveled in the outdoors, camping, boating, and fishing together near Mandeville, with seafood dinners at Pass Manchac's famous eatery. "Myrtis loved to drive. She took me everywhere," Audrey said. She would go camping with Audrey and their friends near Ponchatoula. At home, Myrtis and her older sisters sewed long party gowns to wear at weekly plantation home parties and dances on the River Road. "She loved to dress," her sister said.
The family took in guests. During the depression, whole families would come to stay. The only requirement was Sunday Mass, because "Mama expected it."
The Dominicans had not yet arrived in Reserve. Myrtis went to public schools, which in Reserve, on the "German coast" of the Mississippi River, were predominantly Catholic. After high school dhe went to Spencer Business College in New Orleans. Even in those lean years she had the use of a family car. Sr. Mary James Fabacher recalls that if the sisters needed a ride to anywhere, they could always "ask Myrtis." Myrtis evidently didn't mind, and grew closer to the sisters. In 1939 she drove her mother, aunt and sister to the New York World's Fair. One year she tried teaching, and soon after, at age 32, answered the call to religious life.
In the novitiate she was quiet, seeming to blend in. Her health might have been a problem, but she didn't let it become an issue. When she began teaching in the crowded parochial school, she took the lower grades, and was cited for being able to handle an oversize class with skill and grace. "I wish we had more like her" said Sr. Mary Alice, her first superior/principal, in Paulina, 1947. After teaching nineteen years at parish schools in New Orleans (St. Leo, Our Lady of Lourdes, St. Anthony); Baton Rouge (St. Agnes); her hometown, Reserve (St. Peter), and Paulina (St. Joseph, where her parents had married in 1901), she was tapped for leadership in the Dominican sisters' community. First appointed prioress in Rosaryville, she was later elected by the sisters. "Best superior I ever had," was heard from more than one. She wore authority lightly, even if the hand was firm. When Rosaryville became the place of retirement, Sr. Mary George took on the role of infirmarian for nine years, a major challenge then as now. Her unflappable disposition and droll sense of humor served her well.
She always loved Rosaryville, the 1700-acre strawberry farm and pine forest where she had entered the convent in 1944. Her first transfer to the motherhouse for her own retirement ended in her regaining enough strength to return to Rosaryville. There she
celebrated her golden jubilee in 1996. When she finally came back to New Orleans, it took her a while, but she quietly adjusted. After she lost her leg, when asked how she was, she liked to say "I can't kick." She was an avid football fan, loyal to the New Orleans Saints, against all odds. She acquired a wardrobe of blazers of all colors, with which she brightened her environment. And she entertained all with a collection of stories/jokes, often supplied by one of her many favorite nephews. She loved stories that would make people smile or chuckle. Or even groan. She would tell, and wait, and then smile her shy, half-smile, with eyes that crinkled.
Sister Carmelite Zibilich noted that "she was a quiet presence."Impossible not to love, she walked gently through life with dignity, poise, charm, wit, grace, and joy. She now rests in her beloved Rosaryville, in peace.
