Mattie Rials has passed on, but her message of goodness and kindness will stay with us. I believe this, and have four examples to share.
Fortunately, Miss Mattie was a big fan of the Enterprise-Journal. She told me regularly, in conversation and in her funny little notes, how much she appreciated the paper.
That meant people at the newspaper were regular recipients of her unique happies — a word that perfectly describes the feeling that anybody had when she praised them.
I turned up four of her happies in my orbit, and each one has an interesting story.
The most recent one arrived last August. I was the last person to leave the office one evening and found an envelope tucked under a windshield wiper on my car.
With a return address of “S. Mouse, Library, McComb, MS., it was addressed to the “Head Honcho at the E-J.”
And yes, all the E’s were written in reverse, just like Scooter Mouse always did.
Inside was a card with Scooter riding on a roller skate. The note said, “Hooray! Hot Dog! Yea! The Bridge is Open — Hooray.” It was about the Delaware Avenue overpass, which had been closed for nearly four weeks.
It included a $10 gift card and advised me to “get over to Mr. Wendy’s and buy a big ole Frosty.”
I took the gift card home, but kept Scooter’s card by the front seat of my car. This may sound silly, but I have always had a hard time discarding anything that Scooter sent, because I know who took the time to create it.
That’s one of the amazing things about Miss Mattie. Even into her 90s, she set aside time regularly to write encouraging notes. And there had to be a lot of people on her list. I hope she realized how much these efforts were appreciated.
A cluttered table in my office includes and smooth, tan, oval-shaped rock with a large ladybug painted on the top. On the back side is the notation, “S.M. ’01.”
I’ll bet there are hundreds of these ladybug rocks in Pike, Amite and Walthall County. Maybe more than that. I have no memory of why she sent it, but I’ve kept it for two decades. I’ll probably give it to one of my grandchildren one day.
In fact, one of the interesting nuggets in her obituary, written wonderfully by managing editor Matt Williamson, said that she went to a low-water bridge in Franklin County to find the rocks. She originally used them for her Storyhour programs.
Then, on my desk is a note and a bottle in a Ziploc bag. It’s from January 2024, during some freezing weather, and it has the really clever two-line “Scooter Mouse” signature, where Miss Mattie used the two O’s and the M to draw a mouse’s face, complete with whiskers.
It also has a bottle labeled, “For a Big Headache.” One large light blue tablet is inside. I have no idea what it is.
Which leads to another amazing thing about Miss Mattie: She was one of the most creative people any of us will ever know. What an imagination.
It’s a true gift when somebody can create a mouse from Amite County who’s still going strong 50-plus years later and make him seem real.
My final piece of Miss Mattie Memorabilia is next to my office door. It’s one of those little framed things, painted onto a couple of pieces of wood, that you find at gift shops or an arts and crafts festival booth.
It has “The Wizard of Oz” line that says, “Nobody gets in to see the wizard, not nobody, not no how!”
Besides her goodness, and kindness, and sense of humor, and creativity, and eagerness to praise, the thing to remember about Miss Mattie is that she believed in local people.
She watched a lot of local kids grow up to be good adults. She was right; for all of our problems, she saw that there are many decent people in Southwest Mississippi. She spent decades telling them so.
When things were tough, Miss Mattie’s smile, giggle and perpetually upbeat demeanor was the perfect antidote. And that is a fine way for us to remember her.
