The saying "Behind every great man is a great woman" is listed in the Dictionary of American Proverbs as having "no known source." It is not even listed in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations.

I have a theory about that. I contend that the saying was not used until after 1942 when Weems and Margaret Pennington got married. The saying must have been uttered to describe Margaret by some acquaintance of theirs and the quote spread, without its author ever getting due credit.

The only other explanation is that Doctor Pennington used the phrase himself to describe his wife.

A supportive wife is not a requirement by any means for a man's success in life but it certainly doesn't hurt.

Margaret Cannon Pennington, R. N., was Dr. Weems Pennington's biggest fan, his most avid supporter, and the emotional support he needed for his forty years as Lincolnton's primary physician.

A successful nurse in her own right, it was Margaret who was the "heart" of Doc's practice and despite his many accolades for delivering over three-thousand Lincoln County babies, in truth, it was Margaret who actually did the important part— preparation for delivery.

It was Margaret who would meet the mother-to-be at the door of the basement clinic, soothe her frazzled nerves, administer meds if necessary, and sit by her side holding her hand throughout the long labor, timing contractions and monitoring heartbeats.

Not until it was time for the baby to be delivered did Margaret hit the buzzer signaling Doc upstairs that it was "time." With her able "assistance," another new baby was introduced to the world.

As a child I called her "Aunt Margaret." I don't really know why except that's what my sister called her, along with possibly every other kid in our neighborhood.

Our houses were side by side for a good portion of my childhood and since the Pennington's daughter Peggy was my best friend, it was only natural, I suppose, that I felt a part of their family, and Peggy, mine.

If any of us were ever sick in the night, Doc was at our house, pronto. Of course, he might have taken half an hour raiding our refrigerator before he actually tended the sick. Margaret was always with him, however.

I remember refusing any "shot" unless Margaret was by Doc's side to administer TLC while I was "stuck." If all nurses were like her they'd put doctors out of business.

My father worked for Dr. Pennington at City Pharmacy for twenty-eight years so our families were inevitably linked, as were our friendships. Card games and late night chats were a common occurance in our neighborhood and Margaret was the perfect hostess.

As was common in the 1950's neighbors lives intertwined more so than they do today. I remember vividly watching a slew of mamas, including Margaret and mine, sitting in a circle of chairs in the center of adjoining clothes lines, where they chatted and drank coffee after each had hung out the day's wash.

Margaret was a people-person and she was forever busy, never still. Whether she was off leading scout troops, sewing costumes for a community play, cooking treats for a bazaar, planning a program for the garden club or church circle, or tending sick, Margaret Pennington was a classic example of the Proverbs 31 woman.

Who can find a virtuous woman…trust is hers from the heart of her husband; she does him well each day of her life. She gives of the fruits of her labor; willingly busy, her hands hold the distaff; all plainly see her product is good. Clothing her family, dressing them well, she is prepared for winter and cold. Her generous spirit teaches the needy; Many do well, but she excels all.

As talented, loving, and intelligent as she was, it was no secret Margaret was at times scatterbrained. There was not a retail store in Augusta that did not know her by name, for it was common for her to go shopping and invariably leave her purse in one of the stores.

A good sport though, she always laughed at herself more than anyone else did. She loved a good joke and Doc was always pulling some good ones on her. However, she pulled off a pretty good one on him one Christmas.

Doc had a well-deserved reputation for being very frugal. He didn't believe in spending money on frivolous things and made sure Margaret followed his lead by putting her on a budget. Quite often Margaret went over the budget by giving to others, often going without to see that another was clothed or fed.

Christmas a few months away and Margaret had seen a mink stole in Augusta that she wanted in the worst way. Making sure she stayed within her monthly budget, she put the mink on layaway and paid along on it for several months.

Christmas morning, with all the family gathered around the tree, Doc began to pass out the gifts. After all had been opened one lone box lay tucked way back under the tree. Doc spotted it and said, "What is that?"

"I don't know," said Margaret innocently. "Pull it out and see."

Doc picked up the package and read the card aloud. "To Margaret. From Me."

Confused, wondering if he'd bought her a gift and forgotten about it, he handed the package to Margaret. She opened it with reckless abandon, and held it up for all to see, her face beaming. "Merry Christmas, Margaret!" she said. "Thanks, I love it!"

Doc had to laugh.

Forever on a diet, Margaret fought weight gain the best way she could. I can still see her sitting at the table, a huge slab of chocolate cake in front of her, along with a can of Metracal, the Slim Fast of its day. "Every little bit helps," she'd say, with a huge grin on her face.

A more dedicated mother you'll never see. Raising Weems, Jr., Penny, and Peggy was Margaret's greatest achievement, and she was a handson mother if there ever was one. Juggling dance recitals, PTA meetings, ballgames, and being nursemaid to all of Lincolnton was no small job.

Maybe the fact that Margaret's mother died when [Margaret] was two weeks old and she was raised by her grandmother somehow made her more determined than most to be the best mother she could be.

Margaret and Doc loved one another dearly but being the strongwilled people that they were, it was not unusual for the sparks to fly when the two locked horns over some matter or another.

But as quickly as the fire started, it went out, and all was well again. Doc depended on Margaret for her support and she never failed in being his staunchest fan.

The story goes that after a Georgia Bulldog football game, an inebriated patron was mouthing off at Doc in the parking lot. Doc, being Doc, kept walking toward the car, mumbling but not engaging himself in the fray.

The soused fellow, continuing to spew obscenities at Doc, would have stopped, I'm sure, had he known Margaret Pennington.

Before he knew what had happened, she was on his back, one arm flailing, the other holding one of her high-heeled shoes with which she intended to silence him. Fortunately, Doc intervened and peace reigned once more. That was Margaret, the mother hen.

The softhearted Margaret could not abide unkindness or rudeness, nor could she stand by and see another in need and do nothing.

Often giving her last dime to help a struggling family, she did so in anonymity. She was generous to a fault. If she had it and you needed it, it was yours.

Her goodness was never more evident than when she cared for Doc's mother until she died, and also for his sister, who lived with them for many years.

I honestly don't know of a person anywhere who didn't love Margaret Pennington. She was a kind soul whose love for her fellowman directed everything she said and did.

Dear Hearts, I know all of you, like me, will miss her.

Doc and Margaret, together once more. The angels can take a rest.