My Friend Mildred
by Judy Greer

Mildred Wright Hedrick Joiner came into my life in the fall of 1957. I had moved into Haygood Dormitory and joined the Emory at Oxford faculty as an instructor of physical education and women’s intramural director. Dean Virgil Y. C. Eady hired me and, since each year (after 1953) the college was enrolling more women students, he also wanted me to help Gladys Odum Shannon as assistant house director at Haygood.
Mildred and her cousin, Minnie Gaither served as the maintenance team (housekeepers) for the entire dormitory, which was designed and divided into four sections (A, B, C, and D) of three floors each. Since I lived in B Section, I interacted with these two loyal employees on a daily basis. They came to work early and worked until late afternoon, Monday through Friday. On occasion, especially when the weather was problematic, I’d drive Mildred to the home of her parents, Mason and Carrie Wright, where she and her young daughter, Helen, lived. Mildred’s husband, a minister, had died early in their marriage, so she and little Helen had come back home to Oxford to live.
Mildred and I continued our friendship even after I moved out of Haygood and into the Branham House, where I rented an apartment with Elizabeth and Martha Branham, although we saw each other less frequently.
When the new women’s residence complex on East and Branham was opened in 1966, Mildred began working with John and Frances Lovern, who headed the college housing department, and became a security officer supervising the two wings, usually during the night shift. At this point, Mildred began to employ her psychology skills and listened to many students who confided in her as well as sought her advice through their nightly conversations. Since Mildred had always been an avid and inquisitive reader, when “quiet time” for dorm hours came, she took advantage of them and read even more.
After Mildred married Robert Joiner, also an Oxford staff member, she continued her security work and “picked the brain” of librarian Peg McPherson, who guided her to new releases, especially to the new world of African American women novelists.
Mildred and I never lost touch with each other. We visited in our homes and even in the post office! We “caught up” talking about town and church activities and took extra time to share family happenings. Some years later, after Robert died and Mildred retired, she starting suggesting new as well as older books and authors to me. It was at that point that she and I had time to connect on a more intellectual and critical plane. I really appreciated her advice as we swapped books on a regular basis.
If I ever had a genuine life-saver, it was Mildred Joiner. In the 1980’s, when my father came to live in Oxford, I looked for a dependable person to serve as his companion when I needed additional help with him. The teaching, coaching, advising hours were taken care of by regular sitters, but I found that, at night, when I had obligations, I needed another person. Mildred filled the bill. She hesitated at first, but later she agreed to a trial run. Of course, Daddy and she immediately bonded and looked forward to each other’s company. She was so reliable, I could continue my college, church, civic, and professional activities without worry.
And Mildred and I kept up our book talks and began exchanging recipes, since she often brought Daddy and me delicious goodies from her kitchen. Her mac and cheese was not-to-be-believed. Several times she shared with us the recipes of her Savannah Aunt Lucile Wright. Aunt Lucile’s oyster bisque and potato soup were favorites there. (Mrs. Wright was the favorite caterer for Jim Williams’s parties. She was portrayed by the actress Georgia Allen in the movie “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil”).
After Daddy died, Mildred was a strong support for me. We laughed and cried together and we shared stories of “Mr. Greer” and of our college days and time in Oxford. She fought hard to overcome serious health problems. I checked on her regularly, taking her easy-to-digest food and groceries that she needed. She was ever-grateful, always smiling each time we hugged good-bye. I missed a few days calling and going by her home. I knew that her sister, Helen and their relatives were with her all the time, but later in the afternoon, I phoned. When Helen answered, she said, “She has just passed.”
“May I come over?” I asked.
“Of course,” replied Helen.
It was a distinct privilege to hold the hand of Mildred Wright Hedrick Joiner in life and in death. On that afternoon, I lost a good and true friend. I shall always be thankful for her.
Mildred and her cousin, Minnie Gaither served as the maintenance team (housekeepers) for the entire dormitory, which was designed and divided into four sections (A, B, C, and D) of three floors each. Since I lived in B Section, I interacted with these two loyal employees on a daily basis. They came to work early and worked until late afternoon, Monday through Friday. On occasion, especially when the weather was problematic, I’d drive Mildred to the home of her parents, Mason and Carrie Wright, where she and her young daughter, Helen, lived. Mildred’s husband, a minister, had died early in their marriage, so she and little Helen had come back home to Oxford to live.
Mildred and I continued our friendship even after I moved out of Haygood and into the Branham House, where I rented an apartment with Elizabeth and Martha Branham, although we saw each other less frequently.
When the new women’s residence complex on East and Branham was opened in 1966, Mildred began working with John and Frances Lovern, who headed the college housing department, and became a security officer supervising the two wings, usually during the night shift. At this point, Mildred began to employ her psychology skills and listened to many students who confided in her as well as sought her advice through their nightly conversations. Since Mildred had always been an avid and inquisitive reader, when “quiet time” for dorm hours came, she took advantage of them and read even more.
After Mildred married Robert Joiner, also an Oxford staff member, she continued her security work and “picked the brain” of librarian Peg McPherson, who guided her to new releases, especially to the new world of African American women novelists.
Mildred and I never lost touch with each other. We visited in our homes and even in the post office! We “caught up” talking about town and church activities and took extra time to share family happenings. Some years later, after Robert died and Mildred retired, she starting suggesting new as well as older books and authors to me. It was at that point that she and I had time to connect on a more intellectual and critical plane. I really appreciated her advice as we swapped books on a regular basis.
If I ever had a genuine life-saver, it was Mildred Joiner. In the 1980’s, when my father came to live in Oxford, I looked for a dependable person to serve as his companion when I needed additional help with him. The teaching, coaching, advising hours were taken care of by regular sitters, but I found that, at night, when I had obligations, I needed another person. Mildred filled the bill. She hesitated at first, but later she agreed to a trial run. Of course, Daddy and she immediately bonded and looked forward to each other’s company. She was so reliable, I could continue my college, church, civic, and professional activities without worry.
And Mildred and I kept up our book talks and began exchanging recipes, since she often brought Daddy and me delicious goodies from her kitchen. Her mac and cheese was not-to-be-believed. Several times she shared with us the recipes of her Savannah Aunt Lucile Wright. Aunt Lucile’s oyster bisque and potato soup were favorites there. (Mrs. Wright was the favorite caterer for Jim Williams’s parties. She was portrayed by the actress Georgia Allen in the movie “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil”).
After Daddy died, Mildred was a strong support for me. We laughed and cried together and we shared stories of “Mr. Greer” and of our college days and time in Oxford. She fought hard to overcome serious health problems. I checked on her regularly, taking her easy-to-digest food and groceries that she needed. She was ever-grateful, always smiling each time we hugged good-bye. I missed a few days calling and going by her home. I knew that her sister, Helen and their relatives were with her all the time, but later in the afternoon, I phoned. When Helen answered, she said, “She has just passed.”
“May I come over?” I asked.
“Of course,” replied Helen.
It was a distinct privilege to hold the hand of Mildred Wright Hedrick Joiner in life and in death. On that afternoon, I lost a good and true friend. I shall always be thankful for her.