The Whole Town Called Her Oohoo

The whole town called her Oohoo.

Until the day she died peacefully in her sleep at the age of 99 many never knew her real name. I had been the grandchild who coined the name when I was four. My mother would walk me the two blocks to Oohoo’s house and help me climb the steep steps to her massive front door which she always kept unlocked. As Mom turned the knob and opened the door she would sing-song the word, “Ooooooo hooooooooo.” Almost immediately, the beautiful, stately, white-haired lady with the big smile would come running down her staircase and scoop me into her arms. It had to be Oohoo!

I was the chubby, awkward, middle child of our family, growing up in a small town in the 1950s where everybody knew everybody and all of their business. For some unknown reason, what I experienced in my youth is what too many kids are still experiencing today. If it hadn’t been for Oohoo and the safe haven of her loving home, I might have fallen through the cracks much earlier. But my friends and I had a fairytale place where we could escape reality – Oohoo’s house. She gave us a whole bedroom that became our Barbie and Ken fantasy room.

However, by age 16, using food as my comforter, I was 100 pounds overweight and lonely while my friends were dating and having fun. Although I had become a well-known troublemaker who had been in and out of the principal’s office many times, Oohoo loved me unconditionally and expected only the best from me.

My sister, Donna, was my “hero” and role model. Four years older, she was everything I wanted to be: head cheerleader, prom queen, valedictorian, size 8! My younger brother Duke was star athlete, A+ student, Mr. Popularity. Then, there was “Poor Debbie.” I heard that name applied to me so often that I lost count. I began drinking and smoking and trying anything I could sniff or swallow. The label of “at risk” youth had not yet been coined, but I could have been the poster child,

Thankfully, that’s not the end of the story. In fact, you could say my story is a personal journey “From troubled teen to Teacher of the Year." Having served now in the field of education for over 30 years, I can honestly say that I believe most “problem children” could be turned around if they had an “Oohoo” in their life!

Oohoo’s house was filled with poetry and literature from her own classes at the University of Missouri in 1918. Her old trunk was filled with costumes from her days in Hollywood when she boldly accepted a journalism assignment where young women then were not encouraged to go. Who would have thought I would become an English and drama teacher using some of the old books and costumes I carried from Oohoo’s house?

Oohoo kept her door unlocked for a crying 10-year-old when she was called “Fatso;” for a 15-year-old who wasn’t chosen for the cheerleading squad; for a 17-year-old who wrecked the car and was afraid to tell her parents alone; and for a 21-year-old who didn’t want to live anymore.

Every Sunday from as early as I can remember, Oohoo picked me up for Sunday school. She taught there for 78 years, and practiced every word of what she “preached.” I never heard her say one unkind word about anyone; she was friends with people of all backgrounds, cultures and races. Oohoo taught me the meaning of selfless giving, generosity and unconditional love.

My poor parents took me to counselors and doctors, trying to pull me out of my abyss. Upon the advice of a child psychologist, they agreed to let me stay with Oohoo temporarily. She never mentioned my weight, never condemned me and always treated me with dignity. She was tough on curfew and following house rules, but she immersed me in unconditional love.

I didn’t know at that time of Oohoo’s own broken heart; I would find out later about my grandfather’s infidelity. But I have learned that it is life’s tests that either makes us bitter or better. Oohoo taught me to be better. Against all odds my precious grandmother had graduated from the University of Missouri in 1919 and she inspired me to go on to college as well. Oohoo had been a teacher and a journalist – and I became a teacher and a journalist!

I am so grateful that Oohoo lived long enough to see me marry my college sweetheart, lose 100 pounds, return to my family as a prodigal daughter and become “Teacher of the Year.” I especially got to tell Oohoo that she was my hero on the celebration of my grandparent’s 65th wedding anniversary. She stayed with my grandfather when she had every right and reason not to, but he too “turned around” later in his life, and realized what a gem he had in Oohoo!

Teachers are told to call home at the first sign of any problem, behavior, academic or otherwise. I began my career with an advantage because Oohoo had taught me empathetic listening skills I may never have learned elsewhere. When my students’ parents weren’t home, or were too busy or just didn’t know how to help, I had the alternative solution. Invariably there was a caring, knowing, loving lady always waiting to help. All I needed to do was ask, “May I speak to your grandmother?”

Debra Peppers, a professional speaker for 25 years, was one of only five inducted into the National Teachers Hall of Fame upon her retirement from Lindbergh High School. A member of the National Speakers Association, she has traveled to all 50 states and 60 countries teaching others that if she can go from being a 250-pound high school dropout, to Teacher of the Year there is hope for every child and adult. For info, visit www.pepperseed.org