Hazel's Century

This little book is for the future. It is a time capsule for our family,
for Hazel's descendants. It is her legacy in her words, some transcribed
from recorded memories, some composed as stories told in third person.
It is her message to the future about times past, as she glimpsed it, so
that those who come after may share it.
I once asked myself, among all the lessons I learned from the
wisdom she dispensed, what was it that stood out. She was creative; she
was loving; she was witty; she was resilient; she was honest; she was
intelligent; she was curious; she was hard-working. Yet, the quality I
want to point out is that in the course of her life, nothing was ever lost.
She made the most of every moment, of every experience, of every
acquaintance.
While she did not live on a grand scale, over all those years, in all
those places, among all the people she touched, she inherently knew
that this was indeed the fabric of her life and that nothing was to be
wasted, taken for granted, or ignored. Everyone she met remembered
her because she was always fully present to those she encountered.
Throughout Mother's journey, her devotion to family and friends
defined her. She was intensely proud of John's accomplishments, and
she doted on her grandchildren, Matt, Julie, and Steve. In addition to
Martha, in whom she found the daughter she always wanted, many
younger women were especially drawn to her. To them she was mentor,
ally, confidante, and friend.
Doug Haydel





Hazel was a widow about as long as she was married but she never
loved anyone else and not a day went buy after Daddy died that she
didn't miss him think about him fondly.
They fit together like two pieces in a jigsaw puzzle with a lot of
other pieces missing. Daddy was a dreamer and Hazel was an enabler.
Mother gave us a love of learning through her example. She was a
constant reader and often mispronounced new words because she didn't
often have a chance to exercise her vocabulary with her friends with
smaller vocabularies.
She constantly reminded us of the plutocracy of the Haydels in early
Louisiana and made us feel sort of special; at least our family was maybe
once if not now.
Hazel never learned to drive, was clumsy and never screwed lids on
jars, causing lots of spilling. She often successfully "depended on the
kindness of strangers."
She was a natural cook. She could walk into a kitchen bereft of
pantry supplies and produce magical dishes.
She was a beautiful woman. I once overheard his father talking to
someone and he said "my wife is a beautiful women I want you to meet
her" I felt sorry for my friends that didn't have a beautiful mother.
They are both buried in the Catholic cemetery in Plaucheville, La.
John Haydel