Who: Walter Payton’s mother
Worthwhile links:
http://articles.chicagotribune.com/2011-08-27/sports/chi-walter-paytons-mother-presented-no-34-jersey-before-prep-game-20110827_1_caleb-lendy-jersey-shepard
http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1750528/
Breakdown: During Walter’s youth, his mother was beloved throughout black and white Columbia, Mississippi for her kind nature and endearing mannerisms. If anyone is most responsible for Walter’s dogged work ethic, it’s Alyne (known throughout Columbia as “Miss Alyne”), who was always working two or three jobs while also raising three children. Her cooking is especially legendary and, in particular, her pancakes.
Pearlman’s take: This was an interesting one. Eddie Payton, Walter’s older brother, told me early on that his mother would only speak with me should I donate a scholarship to Jackson State. Well, I don’t have that type of money and, more important, I don’t pay for interviews. Hence, I never got to sit down with Alyne. But I did try.
Near the end of my reporting, I drove up to her house, unannounced. It’s the sort of thing I dread, but I felt I needed to at least try. Alyne was doing some gardening out front, and as I introduced myself she nodded. We spoke for, oh, 20 minutes, and she was friendly, if not especially cooperative.
Regardless, Alyne Payton is, by most accounts, a warm and giving woman.
From Sweetness: Though she held no elected position or official post, Alyne was a central figure in Columbia’s black community. She dispensed pearls of wisdom (“Never give your kids soda.” “Rise early, sleep early, work hard.”), advised her friends, helped whenever help was needed. When Archie Johnson, Walter’s pal, describes Alyne as “remarkable,” he echoes a sentiment shared by many. “Everyone loved Walter’s mama,” said Johnson. “One thing I remember is that she was really into making her home look nice. During the fall she’d drive out to the country, to a rural area called Hawthorne where some of her family lived. We’d ride up with her, and on the way she’d inevitably want to stop and get us to pick the cattails for her.
“Nothing about her life was haphazard. Everything was organized. She had a plan.”
Alyne served as a church usher and was the leader, nurturer, and moral guide of the family. Peter, in turn, was the disciplinarian. Though only five foot five and maybe 140 pounds, with dark skin and unusually long fingers, Peter demanded respect from his children, both with his scowl and his belt. Docile in his day-to-day demeanor, Peter seemed to derive his greatest pleasure from meeting up with his closest friend, a neighbor named Brady Lewis, for a couple of hours in the backyard. There the two would lounge on a pair of lawn chairs, telling stories and polishing off a couple of dollar-fifty glass bottles of grape-flavored Mad Dog 20/ 20 until they were drunk. Because Columbia was a dry town, the two tried keeping their ritual a secret. But everyone knew.
“Walter’s dad was real quiet and agreeable,” said Robert Virgil, who grew up with Walter and Eddie. “I remember his dad used to come to my house, and he’d help us kill a chicken or a hog. Then he’d drink his Mad Dog.” Peter wasn’t merely known by his first name. With the exception of his wife and kids, he was “Peter Payton” to everyone, in all circumstances.