Jacqueline (nee Davis) Chism spent the first nine years of her life in Harlem, New York City, where she was raised by her grandmother, Viola "Mama" Booker and her stepfather, Clinton Booker. Excelling at the parish school of St. Charles Borromeo Catholic Church, she was "skipped" a grade. This Harlem childhood left a lifelong impression on Jacqueline: the "no-nonsense" Mother Superior who did not tolerate tardy students, the "haggling" merchants of 125th Street, the stylish attire of the neighborhood workers--even during the Great Depression, the elegant brownstones on crowded well-swept streets where "nobody asked you your business." When her grandparents relocated to the Elmwood section of Philadelphia, Jacqueline attended Tilden Junior High School and Bartram Senior High School. There she bonded with her Philadelphia cousins, all children of her maternal Virginia aunts. In her new surroundings, Jacqueline was vaunted as that Harlem girl, who dressed as if she had just "stepped out of a band box." Much praise for her lovely singing voice, a cross between Judy Garland and Ella Fitzgerald, nurtured her desire to be a vocalist, a dream she pursued briefly even after her marriage to a Darby native, Vernon Chism, with whom she had two daughters, Yvonne and Dawn. Her elder daughter has a vivid childhood memory of the night Jacqueline sang at the Apollo Theater in Harlem. Barely four years old, Yvonne could not actually see her mother perform that night, but she remembers the long train ride that ended in an exit from "a hole in the mountain," her mother's black crepe dress with "a flying panel," its narrow belt intertwined with silver leather, her rhinestone necklace and earrings, her long "page boy" hairstyle with a Veronica Lake "dip." That night Jacqueline won the competition. Did she ever try again? Yvonne was never told. A year later in 1950 Jacqueline became a family legend. One cold January night she awoke from a fretful sleep with a toothache to find a silent red glow on the other side of her bedroom window. Jolted wide awake, she scooped up Yvonne, then ran up and down the second floor hallway: "Fire! Fire! Get up! The house is on fire!" Under Jacqueline's cool-headed command, everybody got out unscathed. She even managed to save her child's new winter coat and leggings and her own mouton fur coat. When a boy retrieved a bike from the front porch, but tried to ride away, she ran after him, shouting: "That's my bike! Bring back my bike!" And he did. Born ten years apart, Jacqueline's two daughters still share many of the same childhood traditions established by their mother: the annual Christmas tree with its "touch the ceiling" electric star and colorful ornaments, some preserved over forty years; the twice-a-year trips to South Street (in the Fifties) or Center City (in the late Sixties onward) for fall and spring wardrobes; the white gloves and hats for Sunday Mass; the Saturday grocery, the Friday fish market, the Thursday kosher beef liver. Jacqueline fried crispy chicken and baked a scrumptious yellow cake just like Mama, but her potato salad, embellished with eggs, sweet pickles and yellow mustard was superb and unique in the family. Jacqueline's younger daughter Dawn witnessed her mother's transition from homemaker to "working woman" in the late Seventies. With no prior experience, Jacqueline managed to become a writer in the Philadelphia Tribune advertising department. Her specialty was the Black churches. This job required a careful eye for graphic detail, an ability to communicate clearly, perfectionism: these were lifelong traits in Jacqueline, not a Women's Lib inspiration. Both daughters remember a mother so meticulous in her hand sewing and ironing skills that she could have been a professional seamstress or tailor. Both remember her Palmer Method penmanship, so lovely that she could have worked for Hallmark cards. Both remember her pitch-perfect, error-free diction--just like a Forties radio actress. She was a playful mother, too, one who relished amusement park bumper cars and was unbeatable at "pick-up-sticks" and jacks. Her granddaughter Tamara says: "I survived middle school because I was a champ at jacks. Losing to grandmom all the time taught me a lot of tricks!" In fact, all children who met Jacqueline were impressed by her formidable energy. Dawn recalls her mother's success as a classroom volunteer at St. Francis de Sales Parochial School. "None of my classmates played around when Mother substituted for a teacher. No, siree!" Jacqueline Chism had been a member of St. Francis de Sales Catholic Church since 1953 and was actively involved in its affairs, particularly fund-raising, such as "Night at the Races." Most of all, it was her spiritual home, and she attended Sunday Mass without fail with her daughters. Yes, Jacqueline Chism was a no-nonsense woman. She has been described as "particular" and a "trooper." She had standards. May she rest in peace for her job more than well done. A funeral Mass will be held on Friday, August 30, 2013 at 11:15 AM at St. Ignatius Nursing Home, 4401 Haverford Avenue, Philadelphia, PA 19104. A viewing will precede Mass from 10:15 AM to 11:15 AM. Interment will follow in Montrose Cemetery, Upper Darby. Arrangements by The Oliver H. Bair Funeral Home. (215) 563-1580.