The River: Remembering mom, and all the surrogate ‘mothers’ who helped guide us young riverboaters

The riverboat captain is a storyteller. Captain Don Sanders shares the stories of his long association with the river — from discovery to a way of love and life. This a part of a long and continuing story.

By Capt. Don Sanders
Special to NKyTribune

According to the calendar on the wall, today, Sunday, May 11, is Mother’s Day. Today is officially the 111th anniversary of the day set aside to honor mothers after President Woodrow Wilson signed the holiday into law in 1914.

For most of us, our birth mothers are, or were, the most influential persons in our lives. But as time passes, we grow up and often distance ourselves from the woman we called “mom.” Such is the case on the river when young men and women leave home, join a crew aboard a riverboat, and often travel thousands of miles from family, friends, and hearth.

Onboard some vessels, surrogate mother figures frequently help soothe the pain of separation and distancing from loved ones ashore. Riverboaters often develop two families — blood kin and their boatin’ folks.

Though I can only speak through my personal experiences and from what others have told me about their encounters before I started working on the river in 1952, maternalistic-type relationships vary from boat to boat.

Well before my first stint aboard the DELTA QUEEN, some 60 years ago this summer, Smitty-the-Carpenter worked for the Cincinnati-based Greene family aboard their home-like Steamer GORDON C. GREENE. Captain Mary Becker Greene, the widow of Captain Gordon C. Greene, with her sons, Tom and Chris, purchased the oil-burning, steel-hulled CAPE GIRARDEAU from the Eagle Packet Company, St. Louis, in 1931, and renamed it the GORDON.

According to river historian and author Captain Frederick C. Way, Jr.:

“The atmosphere on board the GORDON C. GREENE was pleasant and healthy, and the operation was successful financially. Cap’n Tom and his mother were generous with invitations to ‘river fans’ who rode as guests from here to there. Hence, many youngsters who worked aboard or rode for free grew up better for the experience and opportunity. There was never anything quite like this on the rivers.”

When the Greene Line acquired the California steam sternwheeler, DELTA QUEEN, in 1946 and began operating her overnight in 1948, replacing the GORDON, Captain/Mrs. Greene assumed her motherly duties aboard the new steamboat as she had done on the previous Greene Line vessels. As Smitty-the-Carpenter and I sat at the Officers’ Table of the DELTA QUEEN sixty years ago, he recalled this tale of an experience with “Mother” Greene.

“One morning at breakfast aboard the GORDON C. GREENE, I dug into the thick, creamy butter bowl and slathered the full butter knife onto a hot biscuit fresh from the kitchen. Mrs. Greene, seeing this, interrupted, ‘Smitty, don’t you realize that butter is thirty-six cents a pound?’ Without a moment’s hesitation, I dug another knife-full of butter, sloshed it atop the first load of creamy, yellow spread, and answered, ‘Yes, Mam, and worth every cent.’”

Before working for the Greene Line on the DELTA QUEEN, my first experience steamboating happened during the Summer of 1959 on the steam excursion, stern paddlewheeler, AVALON, still operating today as the BELLE OF LOUISVILLE in her 111th year. Aboard the AVALON, I worked with Robert “Preacher” Lollar, an old steamboat gentleman I’ve written about at length.

Robert’s wife, Mrs. Rollie Mae Lollar, a compassionate woman possessing extraordinary cooking abilities perfected over an oil-fired, cast iron cook-stove, often acted as a surrogate mother figure to many homesick crewmen aboard the AVALON. Captain Clark C. “Doc” Hawley recounted the time an errant possum mistakenly sought solace in the AVALON’s firebox as the boat lay tied to shore somewhere along the Lower Mississippi River:

“Fireman Preacher Lollar, seeing the critter running loose in his boiler space, fatally swatted the possum with a hefty blow of a coal shovel, sending it to wherever opposums go after their lights are finally out. Not wanting to waste a freshly-killed creature known for its succulent tasting meat once prepared by a knowing master of specialized culinary arts, Preacher skinned and gutted the ill-fated marsupial before carrying it to the cookhouse where his wife, Rollie Mae, held court.

With no one but the crew aboard, Mrs. Lollar steadily prepared the possum by repeatedly boiling the carcass with peeled white potatoes. After each batch of spuds had boiled for so long, they went out with the water before boiling another round. The starchy potatoes removed certain tastes from the possum meat, making it more palatable to those who favor the taste of such dishes.

After a while, the aroma of the freshly stewed meat wafted throughout the steamboat. Before long, band members practicing on the dancefloor, located on the deck above, began showing up at the wooden picnic tables between the cookhouse and the engineroom. ‘Do I smell possum cookin’? Oh, that reminds me of my Aunt Clara’s,’’ one bandsman remarked. Before long, several members of the Rythm Masters Orchestra joined Mrs. Lollar and reminisced about how long it had been since they last enjoyed boiled possum and sweet, buttered yams — ‘just like home,’ all agreed.”

Captain Hawley never revealed if he joined the revelers around Mrs. Lollar’s festive board, but knowing Cap’n Doc, I’d be disappointed if he hadn’t tried at least a small piece of possum.

When I returned to the DELTA QUEEN soon after the Great Steamboat Race of 1978, the boat boasted a motivated, diversified crew ready, willing, and capable of performing their various duties while aware of their unique employment opportunity crewing the venerable steamer. As my return had to do more with brushing up on “big boat experiences” for a proposed project outside the QUEEN rather than resuming long-term employment, I became an intrepid observer of sorts of the constituents serving the boat.

It didn’t take long to notice an exceptional married couple on the crew. In the engineroom, Pete Feilhauer, a man of extraordinary mechanical skills and abilities, assisted the Chief Engineer and his staff. On the Sun Deck, Pete’s wife, Catherine “Louise” Feilhauer, reigned supreme as the housekeeper on that topmost deck. When I was the First Mate and Alternate Master of the DELTA QUEEN in the early 1970s, Mrs. Ida Mae Farrell managed the housekeeping affairs on the Sun Deck since the QUEEN first came out in 1948.

Immediately, I understood that Louise Feilhauer was more than just a maid on the boat. Louise, 55, that year, was the “Mother Superior” of the DELTA QUEEN, as someone aptly explained. The younger crewmen and women admired Louisie and sought her advice and counseling whenever necessary. She was also ready to give a stern eye or quick word to anyone needing motherly direction should they veer off the path of socially accepted behavior.

Louise lived until she was 97 and outlived her husband by several years. Both Feilhauers are fondly remembered by those fortunate enough to have served with them on the river.

When I think of river mothers on this special occasion, I would be amiss without recalling my mom, a woman I’ve called in print, “the best river gal I ever knew.” My mother, Anna Margaret, not my father, was the parent who stoked the fire for my love of the river. She was the MARJ in the name of our family sternwheel houseboat, the MARJESS, and she ruled her fluvial kingdom with an iron will.

Honor your mom wherever she may be on Mother’s Day today, and remember her every day. Each day is a gift, and life is short. So count your blessings.

Captain Don Sanders is a river man. He has been a riverboat captain with the Delta Queen Steamboat Company and with Rising Star Casino. He learned to fly an airplane before he learned to drive a “machine” and became a captain in the USAF. He is an adventurer, a historian and a storyteller. Now, he is a columnist for the NKyTribune, sharing his stories of growing up in Covington and his stories of the river. Hang on for the ride — the river never looked so good.

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