After their beloved Priscilla passed away at the age of 78, the family discovered a collection of beautifully handwritten poems she had written when she was just 13. Each verse revealed her youthful dreams and emotions, showcasing a creative spirit that had remained a cherished secret.

13 year old Priscilla

Captivated by the depth of her words, the family found comfort in this unexpected legacy, as if she were speaking to them from the past. This treasure deepened their appreciation for her life and sparked conversations about her dreams, ensuring her voice would resonate for generations to come.

Priscilla’s sister recalls: “I did not see this booklet of Priscilla’s poetry titled Lingering Lyrics until four days after her passing. It is noted that it was written in 1961, the year she was in 8th grade, age 13.

My Grandmother’s Kitchen

My grandmother’s kitchen

Has certain smells and sounds.

You hear a kettle boiling,

And smell cookies all around.

A little white-haired woman,

Standing by the door.

A little gray checked apron

Around the dress she wore.

Sister remembers Priscilla telling her that she wrote a poem about her grandmother’s kitchen, and that her teacher told her that it was really good, adding, “I can just see your grandmother’s kitchen.”  Priscilla replied, “I don’t have a grandmother.”

The family describes the poems as varied and emotionally rich, with one written from a mother’s perspective and another from a child’s. There is also a four-page handwritten one entitled Seasons.

How important is the impact of a teacher? The preface page to Priscilla’s poetry booklet reads: “I am writing these poems because mainly my teacher requested it.  I never realized what enjoyment could be derived from writing poetry until this assignment.  I would like to say thank you to Mrs. Spradley, my English teacher, for the wonderful patience and kindness in helping me to prepare this booklet.  Without her, I could never have done it. ~The author”

So, did this talented 13-year-old poet pursue a career in writing? Not exactly, but her impact as a teacher, much like the one who inspired her, is a major part of her legacy. As a professor in the Department of Child and Family Studies at the University of Tennessee for over 44 years, she was an effective and engaging classroom presenter, providing opportunities for her students to apply what they were learning. As a result of her impact, she received strong student evaluations over her years of teaching.  A national magazine cited her course on ‘Human Sexuality’ as one of the top programs in the country, based on a survey of university students nationwide. Her response was, “I guess that is the only time I will ever be in Playboy magazine.”

Her poetry may have missed publication, but she had numerous publications in her field of Family Studies. While chairing over 50 doctoral dissertations during her career, she developed strong relationships with many of her doctoral students, both academically and personally. One student even had her wedding at Priscilla’s home.  Another student became one of two “best friends.”

One writing project Priscilla did pursue occurred during Covid and has become a written gift to her children, family, and best friends. She completed Reflections on My Life in 2021, a collection of historical stories from her childhood, including some later experiences, even new to her family. Sister shared: “Her slant was a reflection about her own feelings and perceptions in most of her writings — not just a story of facts. She even mentioned the influence Mrs. Spradley had on her writing ability.” It is a bound book of 226 pages with answers to 56 questions and several pictures related to the stories.

Onward

One day I climbed a mountain high,

In hopes that I would reach the sky;

I thought perhaps I’d see heaven’s gate,

I knew not what would be my fate.

I did not reach that mountain top,

Far within sight of it I had to stop.

I was too frail and weak to go anymore.

But someday I’ll try again to reach heaven’s door.

~Priscilla Blanton (1961)

Dr. Priscilla White Blanton’s Obituary here.

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