Allen Carter Rohleder Taylor Giltinan
July 30, 1930- September 7, 2020
My Aunt Carter liked to cultivate growth. From the tours of her garden where she would talk on about the qualities of each plant, citing their genus and species in latin, and broadly talking about design, aesthetic, botany and anything else that came from that lively brain she had. She paid attention to the details. In a similar way, she watched her friends and family in the same way---giving them space or lighting a fire, providing candid insight and observation as well. She fostered my cerebral uncle Xon, to live the life he wanted and not others wanted for him. She encouraged him to engage in the community—giving him pleasure in the interesting interactions he had. She truly cared and watched over Xon and his growth until his last breath—tending to his needs, giving him space, respecting his aging and his dying. She anticipated it—and in so doing, celebrated it. She gave air and water, (and sometimes a little fire,too) to move things and people ahead—making a difference.
Carter was an original. She was always herself. She was always present and paying attention. An example was that Keds sneakers in the early 1970s were not stylish or noteworthy shoes. However, on my Aunt Carter—they were the “it” shoe with her unpracticed style from the tips of her toes to the top of her head—with blue jeans and button down in between, and a floppy hat to protector from the rays as she gardened for work and play. Carter always looked good bringing the ordinary to extrordinary. She was one of those people who could show up at any event being perfectly perfect in every way from the way she carried herself to her total engagement with every person in the room. She was a brilliant light, one that everyone noted, noticed and remembered.
Carter had a way of always being in front of the trend…bad to the bone cool, with the confidence, bold laugh and ideas, patter, research and network to back it up. Carter was a wife, mom, aunt, gardener, democrat, actor, arts advocate, crafts advocate, and an embracer of life as it is lived NOW and not waiting for later, for future opportunities and spaces. Carter loved all people and used her time to give back to her community, her state, her valley—which she adopted with gusto when moving to Charleston, WV as a new bride, a widow and mother to Thomas A. Putting myself in those shoes, I would not have had the absolute bravery and beauty that Carter had after experiencing so much in those short early years. Yes, she was brave, fierce and beautiful too. I see flashes of that brilliance and bravery in her beautiful granddaughters—each their own person but fierce, strong and brilliant.
Carter had a pink living room when everyone had whitewashed their houses to be more “modern”. She had fires burning and a mismatched series of mugs and teapots that, when they were arranged on a tray with her presenting it to the group at hand could have be Meissen. She had sofas just where they needed to be, and funny little figures or animals in places you would never expect them to be. Her kitchen was where her energy was spun and spun and spun creating these dinner parties of more people than you could count, eating and drinking and just plain enjoying all being under the spell of Carter and the combinations she put together. She would burst into song or French, and others would join with my cousin Martha, the top note—rolling in the noise! There would be people washing dishes and clearing the table, and others sitting in comfy little niches getting to know new friends. Her house was open to family, friends and soon to be friends. Carter’s neighbors were our neighbors, and her friends, our friends. She spun people into communities and communities into support and love.
Carter noticed the details. My aunt was the one to declare that the endless Christmas presents were silly and that she would give each niece an ornament for their future trees. Every year a thoughtful present arrived of an ornament—sometimes folk art, sometimes an animal, always considered, and carefully selected, wrapped and tagged with her amazingly bold handwriting with a cute quip or note. I loved them all and would wrap them up and save them for that very day she predicted would happen. I celebrate my Christmas with her thoughtful presents every year and think of her and her insight.
Another gift was when Carter noted that I did not have “something blue” when I got married and loaned me a lovely blue (I think it was turquoise) brooch to pin on my collar. She planned this well in advance and was right on point as usual. It was so thoughtful and unexpected. A small detail again, that let me know she was there in my corner.
Be in Peace
In Remembrance
Martha Hughlett Giltinan
1957-2014
When my dear cousin, the nicknamed “Father Martha”, was ordained into the Episcopal priesthood, Aunt Carter celebrated by to festooning Martha’s ordination with piles of red amaryllis making that flower a personal symbol of their relationship and the grace of mothers and daughters. I will continue to illustrate with amaryllis celebrating both of their lives and their lives together.
I was an odd kid. Still am. But Carter saw me. I felt her fire, but also was soothed by her vision, her hope, her energy and her optimism that with a little energy, a little thought and planning, and putting one’s head down and sometimes running at things—you could move the needle.
Carter set the bar with her grace, determination, observation, energy and passions. She was exemplar in all. May the next step in her journey be filled with light, love and joy—and may her time here inspire us to be better people, better members of our community and to see the growth, light, joy and love in the small things daily.