This
is a great family story written by father, Jim Hartley. I never met
my great-grandma Betsy, but I can attest to the goodness that ginger
cream cookies have brought!
Elizabeth
Catherine Martin Hartley:
Grandma
Betsy’s Ginger Cream Cookies
“Enjoy
the little things in life because one day you’ll look back and
realize they were the big things.” This tidbit of wisdom was
expressed by a modern American writer, Kurt Vonnegut. In my
experience, his observation is profoundly true!
Take little things like cookies for example, more specifically, Ginger Cream Cookies. They are the top-of-the-list, best in the galaxy, absolute favorite cookie in my family. That little, soft, moist, can’t-eat-just-one, frosted molasses morsel is really just a small thing, but it has become an important defining aspect of the Hartley family. It’s OUR cookie! It’s THE Hartley cookie! And when I say my family, I’m referring to five generations!
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| Ginger Creme Cookie |
We
were introduced to Ginger Creams by our sweet Grandma Betsy—Elizabeth
Catherine Martin, born in Ft. Wayne, Indiana in 1882. She married
Charles Alton Hartley, Sr. in 1903. Grandpa passed away in 1937,
leaving Grandma Betsy a widow at the relatively young age of 55. She
sadly lamented in her autobiography, “The dark hour which must come
in every life came to us on June 4, 1937, when our dear husband and
father was called suddenly. Life seemed to end for me. The passing
days, however, proved life to be very interesting as the life of the
little folks grew to envelop me.” The “little folks” were her
grandchildren. I have the privilege of being one of them.
Even
though I wasn’t quite six years old when Grandma Betsy passed away,
I still remember her. To me, she was the ideal grandma—small in
stature, but a giant in terms of cheerfulness, kindness, and love.
Grandma
Betsy was an angel of compassion and help for her children and their
families when they needed it. For example, her son, Jack. After
spending more than three years in gruesome combat in the northern
Pacific in World War II, my dad’s brother, Uncle Jack, returned
home to a devastating welcome—his wife had filed for a divorce and
she left him and their son, Mike. Grandma Betsy moved in with Uncle
Jack and Mike, and became a strong, loving, stabilizing influence for
both of them until Uncle Jack married Aunt Louise about five years
later.
In
1942, shortly after my brother, Bill, was born, my mom began having
severe back pains. It turned out to be a ruptured appendix and
gangrene had set in. Mom had to be in the hospital for two weeks.
During that time, Grandma Betsy stayed in our Salt Lake City home to
help Dad take care of baby Bill and their two older sons, Bryan and
Chuck.
Four
years later, in 1946, my two-year-old sister, Raylene, was tragically
killed by a milk truck. Grandma Betsy was there to help our family
get through the trauma and sadness.
After
Mom’s and Dad’s fourth son, Richard, was born in Butte, Montana,
in 1949, Grandma Betsy came to help out.
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| Butte, Montana, 1949; standing in the back, left to right—my brother, Chuck, cousin Mike, and my brother, Bryan; seated in front—my brother Bill, Grandma Betsy, and baby Richard (also pictured, our dog, Pete) |
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| Grandma Betsy reading to my brother, Richard, and me in San Lorenzo, California; about 1956 |
When Grandma Betsy visited us in Butte, Montana and in San Lorenzo, California, she would read to us, play games with us, and let us help her with chores. I remember helping her wash dishes (all by hand—we didn’t have an automatic dishwasher in those days). She taught me the right way to hold a sharp knife when drying it so I wouldn’t cut myself. A small thing, but it meant a lot to a five-year-old. Not only was it a great revelation, I also knew that she cared about me. And believe it or not, I still think fondly about her whenever I dry sharp knives.
Even
at a young age, I sensed that Grandma Betsy’s gentle goodness was
somehow connected to her strong religious beliefs. She was a devout
Roman Catholic, and in my young eyes, she seemed to have an extra
warm glow that many people don’t have. I suspect it was her deep
faith. Whenever she visited, we made sure she could attend mass at
the local Catholic parish.
I
loved that Grandma Betsy shared the Ginger Cream recipe with our Aunt
Edna and our mom. In fact, one of the many reasons why I loved to
visit Aunt Edna was because she was always well-stocked with Ginger
Cream Cookies. (But typically, her supply was completely gone well
before we left!)
For
more than 25 years, I thought the recipe for Ginger Cream Cookies was
an old, secret family recipe, handed down from Grandma Betsy. I was
shocked when I opened our 1977 Betty
Crocker’s Cookbook.
There on page 137 was Grandma Betsy’s secret recipe! How did Betty
Crocker steal one of our most cherished family secrets?
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 |
When
I asked my mom about it, she confessed that many years ago, Grandma
Betsy got the recipe from a bag of Gold Medal Flour, and the company
that makes Gold Medal Flour is the same company that makes Betty
Crocker cookbooks, cakes, frostings, and other popular baking
products.
I
was deflated by the news! I felt like I had been deceived—kind of
like when I found out that certain things about Christmas and baby
teeth under a pillow weren’t true! (I was even more deflated when I
found out that Betty Crocker isn’t a real person— just a
fictitious marketing persona like Aunt Jemimah, Uncle Ben, and the
oatmeal Quaker!)
I
did a little research into Ginger Cream Cookies. Its recipe may not
have originated with Grandma Betsy, but it is a long-time favorite of
a lot of people besides our family. In fact, Betty Crocker named
Ginger Cream Cookies as the best cookie in America for the decade
from 1910 to 1920! (The folks in that decade really knew their
cookies!) No wonder Grandma Betsy gave it a try. No wonder it
continues to be a favorite more than 100 years later!
Okay,
so Ginger Creams are not a secret family recipe. But it’s still THE
Hartley cookie. And for me, that incredibly delicious little, soft,
moist, can’t-eat-just-one, frosted molasses morsel will always
bring extremely fond memories of my Grandma Betsy. That cookie has
linked five generations of our family … and still counting!
Kurt
Vonnegut was right; looking back, it’s the small things in life
that become big things. So, thank you, Grandma Betsy, for Ginger
Cream Cookies!
-----------------------------------------
Written
by James E. Hartley, Elizabeth Catherine Martin Hartley’s grandson (September 2019)
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- Chuck Hartley, “Recollections of Boyhood and Youth,” transcript of oral history interviews by his brother, William G. Hartley, 22 December 1977, 19 August 1979, and 11 November 1990, pages 4, 7, 8, 11
- “Life Story by Elizabeth Catherine Martin Hartley,” printed autobiography in possession of James E. Hartley
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