Five Generations on One Sofa

Being in the funeral business all my life, I understand really well that life can be short. As you can imagine I’ve had a front row vantage point of some serious stuff.

Such things as children having their parents taken way before their time to be raised by someone else, parents losing children to accidents and disease and adults dying before they ever get to enjoy the privilege of being grandparents…

I could go on and on.

It all doesn’t seem fair but then again God never said life would be fair. We play with the cards we are given and we make the most out of the life we have been given.

And that ain’t a bad deal.

Sometimes families are just blessed and when I see it I can’t help but smile. Case in point is this family.

Nell Wainwright, fondly known by local folks as “Mama Nell” is the matriarch of this incredible family and pretty much the matriarch of Reynolds, GA. Mama Nell is the widow of Walter Wainwright, a prominent businessman and peach grower from Reynolds. She has always been sweeter than any peach her family has ever produced – and trust me, they grow the sweetest peaches in the land.

Her daughter is Mary Ayers who not only was in the peach business for years but also served as Mayor of our fair city for many years along with too many civic volunteer sightings to mention. Mary has the distinction of being the first female mayor of Reynolds… and she was a very good one.

Mary Nell (catch that name) is Mary’s daughter and grew up two doors down from where I grew up. The Ayers’ family moved into our neighborhood when I was a young kid and we grew up together in the backyards on Macon Street. The best looking girls in the planet came from Macon Street in Reynolds, GA and Mary Nell is a member of that club. The funny thing is there were no street signs in those days so none of us knew it was Macon Street. But all the boys knew it was a very special place.

Laurie is Mary Nell’s beautiful daughter who has a beautiful daughter of her own named Taylor. And Taylor is shown here with her mother, her grandmother, her great grandmother…. and her great-great grandmother.

When little Taylor grows up, this picture will be one of her most prized belongings.

Five generations together on one sofa.

And blessed.

She Finally Caught Up With Him

“She finally caught up with him,” was the caption one of her granddaughters put on this photo.

Lucy Bryan Philpott was buried this week at Andersonville National Cemetery after a courageous battle with Lymphoma. Her funeral service was held at the First Baptist Church in Reynolds, GA.

And that is exactly where it should have been held.

Lucy was the last of the children of Dr. S.H. and Louise Bryan. For many years, Dr. Bryan was the town doctor and was also a prominent farmer. He raised his four children in what was affectionately known in Reynolds as “Big House” that sits directly across the street from the Baptist church.

I couldn’t help but notice some folks who grew up in Reynolds and moved on to other places made the effort to come back home Wednesday morning to pay their respects to this magnificent lady and her family.

And maybe even to pay respects to a remarkable community that helped shape their lives.

You would have to be from a small town to understand how deep the roots of friendships grow for people who have friends whose parents were friends, whose grandparents were friends and even whose great grandparents were friends.

It becomes difficult to separate friends from family.

Lucy left Reynolds after high school to get an education. She fell in love with an Oklahoma boy who had just graduated from the U.S. Military Academy in West Point. They married, had a family and traveled all over the world with the United States Air Force.

By the way, her husband had a rather illustrious military career. He eventually became Director of Intelligence of the U.S. Strategic Air Command and later became Vice Commander in Chief of U.S. Air Forces in Europe and a 3 Star General.

Of course they would visit her family in Reynolds every chance they got.

Sometimes their kids would spend their summers in Reynolds at “big house.” In fact many of the other Bryan grandchildren who lived in other parts of the country would also spend their summers in Reynolds. As you might imagine, the “big house” was a very active house and kind of like the Grand Central Station of Reynolds.

And the Bryan grandchildren who lived in other places became friends with all the kids in Reynolds. And lifelong generational relationships were established.

General and Mrs. Philpott, known in Reynolds as Jammie and Lucy, retired in the 70’s and built a home on the outskirts of town. General Philpott died in 1999 and was honored at Andersonville National Cemetery in the incredible way a decorated retired General should be honored.

When Lucy found out she had cancer a few years ago, she decided to sell her house and move to Virginia to be closer to her children.

She said she didn’t want to be a burden.

The retired General and his wife loved to exercise after they retired. It was a normal occurrence to see them walking through town or on the outside of town or on the golf course. Jamie always had a stick in his hand. Lucy was always about 8 paces behind him.

She had also followed him all over the world as he served our country.

But she has caught up with him now.

And when she did, an incredible era in the history of Reynolds GA ended.

Great Day

My wife had a wedding shower at our house last Saturday so I got out of the house and headed to Reynolds to do some visiting.


My first stop was at Jamestown Assisted Living Residence in Fort Valley. Mrs. Ruth Jones, my former middle school teacher and long time family friend, was out gallivanting so all I could do was leave her a note to tell her I would be back. For someone who just celebrated her 90th birthday, gallivanting ain’t a bad way to spend a Saturday. While most residents of that facility do their socializing sitting quietly in the front room, Mrs. Ruth spends at least some of her time at her computer in her room socializing on the internet through Facebook. I’m not sure how many 90 year olds are socializing on Facebook but I would think the list is fairly short. She sure does keep the rest of us young.


My first stop in Reynolds was at the home of another special friend, Mrs. Mollie Childree. It has been a while since I have visited Mrs. Mollie. I was struck by the fact that nothing had changed since the last time I visited. And I was thinking about how many places and miles I have been since I had been there. Mollie and her late husband, Elmer, were positive forces and influencers in my life. I sat with the two of them in that same den many times over the years. I never called to tell them I was coming. I would just show up and begin wherever we left off last time. And that is exactly what we did Saturday. Mrs. Mollie got me all caught up on Reynolds and when I left I kissed her and hugged her a little tighter and longer than usual. And when I drove away I was promising myself that I would visit her more often.

As I was making my way to Julian and Sue’s house, I saw another long time friend sitting on his front porch. I pulled in the driveway and joined him on the porch. I first met Jim and Sheryl Cameron when they came to our church years ago as missionaries. We spent a ton of time with them. When they would come home from Honduras on furlough, Jim and Sheryl and their two children would stay with us sometimes for months at a time. I have some great memories staying up late at night with them solving the world’s problems drinking that strong Honduran coffee. When they left the mission field, they made Reynolds their home. And as you might imagine, Jim and I had no trouble striking up a conversation.


While I was rocking with him, I got a call from Julian. He and Sue were eating lunch at the hamburger place and heard I was in town. They knew I would be looking for them so they wanted to let me know where they were. So I headed up and joined them for lunch and then followed them back to their house. I stayed there until my wife called to tell me her party was over and to remind me that Taylor was spending the night.

I got back home in plenty of time to eat a few cheese straws left over from the shower with my little grandbaby girl and to spend the rest of the afternoon with her.

Just in case you are wondering, I had a great day.

Bo and Lou

The list of the adult folks who are still alive who helped form my life is getting smaller and smaller. Today I was in Columbus, GA on business and as I was leaving town my car had the urge to pull off the four lane highway and into the parking lot of an assisted living facility to visit one of those special folks.

My car just does that sometimes.

The stunningly beautiful Louise Waters began working for Ben Hinton, a Reynolds, GA businessman, when she was a teenager. Ben’s son, Woodfin (who was a couple of years older than Louise) was away at college at Georgia Tech being trained to be an Electrical Engineer when Louise became his dad’s bookkeeper.

Woodfin obviously thought his dad hired the right person. And Louise had to be certain she was working at the right place. Woodfin and Louise became man and wife as soon as he graduated from college. They built quite a life together in the little town of Reynolds. They had two children who are beneficiaries of the life they built. And now there are four grandchildren and four great grandchildren who also are reaping the benefits of the life they had together.


Interestingly, with a degree in Electrical Engineering from (dare this Georgia Bulldog say it) one of the most elite engineering schools in the country, Woodfin Hinton could have taken his new bride to an Atlanta or a Columbus or wherever he chose to do pretty much whatever he wanted.

Instead he chose to move back to Reynolds and take over the family business and sell fertilizer and insurance.

Simply stated, this couple chose a simple small town lifestyle over whatever the life of an Electrical Engineer might have offered.

Put me on the long list of the people who are very glad they did.

Woodfin and Louise, known to their friends as “Bo and Lou” were pillars of the community where I had the privilege to grow up. They were movers and shakers in our community and were leaders in their church. They loved the little town of Reynolds.

And they also loved each other.

When Bo died in 1999, a part of his “Lou” died with him. I would suspect one is not married to someone for almost 60 years without being affected that way.

A few years after his death, Louise moved to the assisted living facility in Columbus about an hour from Reynolds. Although it was the right thing to do, as you might imagine, it was not an easy move for her. But today when I visited her she was quick to tell me how content she is where she is living.

But I couldn’t help but notice how her eyes lit up when I walked in her room.

Although she has known me all my life and knew all my family, I don’t think her eyes lit up because it was me. I think they lit up because I am from Reynolds. My parents, my grandparents and my great grandparents were from Reynolds.

Maybe I reminded her of the wonderful life she had there.

If so, my visit today was the most productive 20 minutes I have spent in a long time.

No Dancing on the Golf Course

I have written about the Chicken George Golf Tournament before here. But the video below is too good NOT to share with all my friends in blog land.

The Annual Chicken George Golf Tournament was started by my brother, Chicken George Goddard. His excuse for starting the tournament in the late seventies was to bring our University of Georgia fraternity brothers together once a year. George and I were in the same fraternity so I also was friends with all the Lambda Chi’s who gathered in Reynolds one weekend a year.

Each year the tournament grew and others not related to the fraternity joined the fun.

People from many different states came to Reynolds to play the little 9-hole golf course. The two day tournament would have three shotgun starts each day at its height and there would be two sixsomes on each tee when each round was played.

That equates to 108 golfers on the nine hole course each round.

I don’t think there has ever been in the history of golf that many golfers on a 9 hole golf course. It was incredible and we were fortunate nobody got killed by a stray golf ball.

Interestingly, some of the golfers were serious and accomplished golfers. Others just came to play for the fun.

I’ve played in many golf tournaments in my life and there has never been one any more fun than the Chicken George Golf tournament.

For you folks with Reynolds Ga connections, you will see Buster Byrd and Tommy Neely in the video below at their best. And if you keep watching you will be able to study the golf swing of the one and only Dealer Downs Scott.

The video below was filmed in 1985. I was the camera man and the commentator. The golfers in the dancing scene are made up of friends from college and a couple of famous local guys mentioned above. The dancing took place right in the middle of the tournament while golfers in the fairway behind them were waiting to hit.

This was golf in its purest form.

And there was only one rule.

No dancing on the golf course.

Bright Sunshine

It rained in Taylor County Ga all day today. The sunshine disappeared sometime Thursday afternoon when word spread that Tommy Mattingly had passed away.

I’m not sure who gave “Sunshine” Mattingly his name but whoever did pegged him very well. Sunshine never met a stranger in his life and he brightened up many a day for a lot of folks who crossed his path during his short 45 years on earth.

Although Tommy could brighten up most anybody’s day, the sun didn’t always shine brightly in his own life. In fact, he probably experienced more dreary days than most folks I’ve known.

But he would never let you know it.

I first met the little boy who would become known throughout Taylor County as “Sunshine” when he was just a baby boy. The night before I met him, I had ridden over to the train station in Macon with my dad and Sunshine’s Uncle Dennon to pick up Sunshine’s mother who was coming in on a train.

We rode in the hearse.

His mother, Patricia, had walked through her garage a few mornings earlier wearing a night gown. There was an open gas can in the garage. When the night gown brushed against her car, the static electricity ignited the gas in the can and the gown she was wearing. She never had a chance.

This young mother left behind five small children. These little children ended up moving back to Reynolds to be raised by their grandparents. And there were some aunts and uncles who greatly contributed to the raising.

I always felt close to the Mattingly kids. Although I was a young teenager myself when their mom died, I was never able to escape that mental image forty years ago of five little children sitting under that tent at the cemetery with their young mother’s casket in front of them.

I watched Sunshine grow up and I always made a point when I saw him to stop and talk and let him spread a little of his sunshine on me.

Sunshine has suffered through many physical problems the last few years. More than most 40 something year olds ever experience.

Not long ago I was about to walk in a store in Warner Robins and I heard some yell “Bruce Goddard” as I walked toward the door. Sunshine was sitting in a car. I must have visited with him at least 15minutes that day standing outside his car.

The last time I saw Sunshine was at Ft. Wayne Store in Reynolds where he worked behind the counter. His color didn’t look good and I was thinking it must be difficult for him to be on his feet all day working. But, typical Sunshine, he never let me know he was not feeling well.

Despite his own troubles he was determined to keep spreading the sunshine.

When I heard about Sunshine’s death, I couldn’t help but think about that horrific scene at Mt. Olive Cemetery I have carried with me most of my life. But then I thought of a much better image of Sunshine being introduced at the Pearly Gates to a Mama he never had an opportunity to know.

The sunshine definitely disappeared in Taylor County yesterday afternoon.

But it was shining very brightly on the other side a millisecond later when this Mom got to embrace her boy.

D-I-N Ralph

Ralph roamed the streets of Reynolds as long as I can remember. The truth is I never knew his last name and I’m not even sure Ralph was really his first name.

I suppose every small town has a Ralph.

Ralph always wore this heavy coat he is wearing in this picture. If it was cold outside it came in handy. When it was 100 degrees he had to be miserable. But he always dressed like it was winter. He lived in an old shanty on the outside of town but all he did was sleep there. When he wasn't sitting on a bench in town, he could be found walking along the roads and highways in the county. One night someone saw him walking down a highway 90 miles south of Reynolds. Some jerk had picked him up and taken him that far and put him out.

Some of us idiotic kids made fun of him. When we asked him how to spell “Ralph” he would quickly respond with these letters: D-I-N. And he would say, “If you didn’t know it then you know it now.”

He became known to many folks as D-I-N Ralph.

Ralph always had a harmonica packed away somewhere inside that coat. If you asked him to play it he would proudly pull it out and begin playing. He would tap his foot and intermittently sing along with whatever he was playing. He would look in your eyes when he was playing and when he was done he would grin really big. He was not at all ashamed of his rotten teeth.

As I grew older I quit asking him to spell his name. And I would give him a few dollars when I saw him. And I picked him up in my truck when I passed him walking down the road. He always got in the back of the truck. I never remember him actually getting in the cab.

Ralph apparently never contributed much to society.

But maybe his contribution to society was not what God had in mind when he planted this Ralph in Reynolds, GA.

Maybe it was about how folks like me would serve him and relate to him. Maybe this is what Jesus was talking about in Matthew 25:40.

If so, I flunked the test.

God help me.

Thanks to Sydney

This past weekend I uploaded over 300 pictures of folks from my hometown to the incredible social network called Facebook. Many of the pictures are of people who are long gone. In fact, a great majority of the people shown in the photos are people I buried.

I remember when the late Sydney Bryan (pictured here standing next to Jack Heath) took most of the pictures. He walked around town with a camera in the late 70’s for the sole purpose of making sure the faces of our little town would never be forgotten. He took a picture of everybody he could find. He put his photos in an album and wrote notes about each person on sticky notes and put next to their picture.

There was not a negative word written about a single person. I’m sure he could have thought of a few negatives to say about each person, but he chose to keep it positive.

If there was ever anyone who loved the little town of Reynolds GA and the people who lived there, it would be Sydney. He hoped the albums he left his family would be placed on a bookshelf and passed down to future generations of the Bryan family. He had no way of knowing that 30 something years later, we would have the capability of uploading his pictures on the world wide web and people anywhere in the world could instantaneously see them.

Several years ago I borrowed Sydney’s albums and scanned all his photos and created a few duplicate books for his children. I’ve had the electronic version of the pictures saved on a computer. It dawned on me the other day that Facebook would be the perfect place to share the priceless photos with others. So I did a lot of cropping and uploading this weekend.

And there have been a lot of smiles and fond memories from the folks who knew them.

But as I was uploading the pictures, it also dawned on me that there are stories about each person. And stories the rest of the world would enjoy and appreciate.

Some of the folks I have already written about here and you have already met. Others you may have read about in my book and you will be able to put a face with a name. But there are other folks you haven’t met yet.

The world sure has enjoyed the characters and the stories of the little fictitious town called Mayberry, NC. There are even Sunday school lessons created from those stories.

Now, thanks to the forward thinking of one Sydney Bryan and an electronic medium called a blog, the world is about to be introduced to more of the characters and stories of the real town of Reynolds, Ga.

And, thanks to Sydney, maybe we will find a few life lessons along the way.

Stay tuned.

Things Sure Do Change

Some of my fondest memories in life are the sleepovers when I was a kid at the Montgomery farm in the Crowell Community outside of Reynolds. Stan Montgomery was my childhood friend and classmate. We would roam the woods and investigate whatever we happened to find. I remember even sleeping on top of a wagon full of cotton one night. I also remember a large bell in the yard that would be rung to let everybody know when lunch was ready. Being a “city” boy (I use that word very loosely), I had the opportunity to experience a way of life that was different and much fun.

On most of my weekend visits to Crowell, we would eventually visit Stan’s grandparents. Actually both sets of his grandparents lived in the Crowell Community and really just down the road. You talk about a community made up of folks with generational relationships – Crowell was surely one of them.

I suppose because my focus was on playing with Stan at their farm and appreciating the fun at the moment, I was older before I really began to appreciate the wonderful way of life of folks like his grandparents, Lonnie and Sallie Mae Pierce. But I did see it. And I guess you can say to some degree I tasted it.

Sometimes I wish I could, as an adult, go back in time for just one day and sit under that big ole pecan tree in the Pierce’s yard and have a long chat with them about their simple life. Maybe we could shell some butterbeans as we chat. Or maybe I could get Mr. Lonnie to teach me how to peel a peach in one piece without breaking the peel. Or better than that, maybe we could sit around the table as we talk and partake of the feast that was always on that table. And before I was transplanted back to 2009, I would have to have a piece of Miss Sallie Mae’s fresh ‘nanna pudding that always seemed to be in a bowl big enough to look like it was meant for the school cafeteria. And somehow I would have to save room for a bite of her blackberry pie and maybe a couple of bites of her famous strawberry shortcake.

I can tell you I would leave very full from the abundance of freshly cooked farm food and over the top southern hospitality. I would also leave with much more wisdom than I have today.


To give you a little background, Lonnie Pierce was born a few years before the turn of the twentieth century. His wife, sweetheart, soul mate and best friend, Sallie Mae, was a few years younger. They produced five incredible children, four of which are still living – and had a wonderful life together for 60 years.

I know all their children and I am quite certain they are among the richest folks I know. The currency deposited in their accounts by their parents that made them so rich had nothing to do with money, although to my knowledge none of them have ever wanted for anything. But the currency consisted of much more important things such as hard work, honesty, integrity, selflessness, politeness, more hard work, laughter, commitment to God, commitment to the local church, commitment to the community, lovers of the land and soil, more hard work, close knit family, common sense, humility and more graciousness that you can shake a stick at.

They were simply made out of special fabric.

Mr. Lonnie never got sick or maybe he just refused to get sick. If he was feeling bad he would take a dose of mineral oil and keep going. He worked from early morning to sundown. One of the greatest compliments paid to him was from one of his former farm hands who said, “Mr. Lonnie was the hardest working white man I ever knew.”

But in spite of the relentless hard work - if you caught his eye, this man who did not have a curse word in his vocabulary, would raise his sweat stained straw hat to you.

The children remember the special treatment for their feet when they were cut from playing barefooted. Their mom would wash their feet in kerosene. The pain would increase but the healing would begin. They also remember the remedy for a dog getting bit by a rattlesnake. Take a tablespoon of cracked alum and mix it with two egg yellows and pour it down the dog’s throat. Both treatments worked very well, thank you.

Sallie Mae not only taught her girls to cook but also to sew… and fish. Chicken feed sacks made perfect dresses. And just because it started to rain didn’t mean it was time to stop fishing.

They grew whopper watermelons, the best tasting tomatoes you ever tasted, huge turnip roots, butter beans, squash and just keep naming. They drank milk from their own cows, ate their own chickens and ate sausage and bacon from their own hogs. They also shared the fruits of their labor with their neighbors. In fact, Sallie Mae was not only quick to share her vegetables, but she was known to delight in delivering butter beans to her neighbors - shelled, washed and ready to cook.

Sallie Mae suffered from asthma most all her life. One of the sons remembers leaving for school one morning and wondering if his mom would be alive when he got home because of the difficulty she was having breathing. He kneeled by a light pole on that particular morning facing the east and prayed that God would make his mama better. As a young boy, he saw a vision in the eastern sky as he bowed to pray that morning. When he got home that afternoon she was feeling great and was like a new person. He has been a believer ever since.

After all the kids were grown and married, they decided to pool their money and build their parents an inside bathroom. The children and their spouses came to the house to see the finished product and celebrate the occasion. When one son in law and his wife drove up that afternoon, Mr. Lonnie and his three sons were in the back yard cooking fish in a new Coleman cooker using the tailgate of his pickup truck as a table.

Mr. Lonnie greeted his son in law with this comment, "You know 'Billam,' we raised five wonderful children in this house, and we're proud of each one. We cooked inside and went to the outhouse, outside - now, here I am cooking outside and now we go to the toilet inside - things sure do change, don't they?"

Things sure do change.

But Lonnie and Sallie Mae Pierce and their family did just fine before they did.

Roots Grow Deep for Don's Angels

As you can see, this picture depicts a young dad with his three little girls taken from the past. If my friend could have figured out a way to freeze that moment in time with his three little angels, I’m sure he would have done it.

Moments like this were never meant to be frozen. But they sure are meant to be remembered.

The friend is Don Lane, who lives in Palatine, IL – outside of Chicago. Don’s little angels are Laurie, Melissa and Sue. As you might imagine, these girls are all grown up now and married with kids of their own. Laurie and Sue and their families still live in the Chicago area. Melissa and her family lives in the Houston area. Don and Margi Lane are now enjoying their retirement years.

I am again reminded that life goes by so doggoned quickly.


Don’s girls are special to me because their grandparents were Wade and Hazel Lane who lived for many years in Reynolds, GA. I have written about their Papa and I have written about their Nana. You can click on the links and read some of my thoughts about this couple who greatly impacted my life.

Don’s angels have wonderful memories of their visits as kids to the little town of Reynolds, GA. It’s a long way from Chicago to Reynolds, both in miles and in culture. But because of their beloved grandparents, a piece of Reynolds will forever be in their hearts.

Laurie remembers drinking cokes from the small bottles across the street at Miss Molly’s house. Melissa remembers watching her Nana wake early every morning to spend time praying and reading God’s Word. Sue still remembers the wonderful smell when she walked in her Nana’s house. They all remember Cat Brady’s store and Dealer Down’s hamburgers and Bill’s Dollar Store and working in their Nana’s dress shop. And they remember their Papa’s beautiful handwriting, his letters and his ability to draw. And they will never forget driving their Papa’s blue golf cart all over the golf course. Or jumping in the car with him to chase trains.


And they all remember their grandparents stopping their lives and focusing totally on them when they were in town.

I haven’t asked but I have a feeling Don and Margi Lane are very thankful for the seeds planted in their girls by Don’s parents, Wade and Hazel Lane, in the little town of Reynolds, GA.

Life does go by quickly.

But the roots of the branches that produce good fruit grow very deep.

Gena

You have seen her image in the aisles of your local supermarket. If you live in Atlanta or San Francisco or Minneapolis or Philadelphia or New York or Chicago or other places too numerous to mention you might have seen her cooking on the morning television shows or even heard her on the radio.

Or maybe you received her bestselling book, Gourmet Made Simple, as a Christmas present. Or maybe you read about her and the company she and her husband founded in one of the many national magazines in which she has been featured.

Or maybe you are like me and watched her grow up in the not so populated town of Reynolds, Georgia. And maybe you noticed her as a little girl selling peaches and produce out of the back of a pickup truck in the middle of town. Or maybe you noticed her babysitting little kids like my niece and nephew to make a few extra dollars. Or maybe you saw her as she got older and more and more beautiful running through the streets of Reynolds – always in shape and always pushing herself.

Or maybe you knew her at the University of Georgia where she received a degree in Landscape Architecture. Or maybe you knew her when she lived in Sea Island, GA as she began her career in her field of study.

Maybe you already know Gena.

But just in case you don't, Gena Neely Knox - daughter of Tommy and Joan Neely, has hit the big time. Her company, Fire and Flavor, is one of the fastest growing private companies in the United States. To be exact, Inc. Magazine has Fire and Flavor ranked 264th of the 5000 fastest growing companies and number 8 in the Top 100 Food and Beverage companies.

If you are not yet impressed with this Reynolds gal, you should also know Gena was chosen in 2008 by Georgia Trend Magazine as a finalist in their 40 under 40 list, which represents the brightest and best among the rising young leaders in Georgia.

To make a great story short, Gena developed a love for cooking from her mom. In fact, she got her looks and her cooking talent from her mom. After she married, she continued to explore interesting food concepts as she cooked for her hubby or entertained friends. She read an article one day on a traditional Native American cooking process called “plank grilling.” After some effort, she finally found some planks to purchase. Her hubby and their friends loved the exceptional taste of food grilled on a plank. But Gena continued to have a difficult time finding retailers that sold the planks.


So Gena decided to make her own. And similar to her childhood experience of selling fruit and vegetables off the back of a pickup truck, she packaged her planks and took them to sell at the Atlanta Merchandise Mart. She wound up making $6,000 from sales in two days. And what began as a small venture quickly grew into a large business. Davis and Gena Knox officially founded Fire and Flavor in September of 2003. And the rest is history.

In addition to planks, Fire and Flavor has now expanded its offering to an array of cooking products, including grilling papers and skewers, gourmet seasoning salt blends and rubs, and brining mixes.

And as that company expands, the little town of Reynolds expands its claim for being the launching pad for some of the most incredible folks you would ever want to know.

Gena might just be the most impressive of them all.

A Large Slice

When local farmer and picture taker Sidney Bryan took this photo of Buster Byrd in 1978, he wrote these words under it:

"Buster works hard during peanut season and plays hard out of season. Life is a piece of cake and I think Buster will get a large slice."

I think Sidney was not only a farmer but he might have been a prophet as well.

If I remember birthday’s correctly, Buster would have been about to turn 28 years old when Sidney took that picture. At that time, Buster made his living as a peanut farmer and running a family farm service business.

I spent more than a few nights at the Byrd home when I was growing up. Buster, being four years older than his little brother Chuck and me, didn’t cut us much slack during our formative years. Big brothers have a way of doing that to little brothers and their friends.

But I have noticed two things about Buster in the 54 years I’ve known him. He loves to have fun, doesn’t have many enemies and he lives life on the edge.

Okay I guess that’s three things.

But it’s a pretty doggoned positive three things.

I don’t think I have ever run into Buster when he didn’t have a joke to tell or some funny story from days gone by. If the residents of Taylor County, GA have 300 nicknames, Buster made up 275 of them. When I was a little kid, he started calling me Lucy. Everybody in town called me that for years. Buster never calls anybody by their real name but rather by their “Buster” name… and yes he still calls me Lucy.

Buster is also somewhat of a musician. Because of his frequent trips to Panama City Beach Florida, many years ago he wrote a song called “Panama City Nights.” A recording artist picked it up and it became a very popular song played on radio stations in Panama City – and radio stations all over for that matter. Buster formed a band and his group became a headliner at the local PC Beach night spots, riding the popularity wave of his hit song.

A man who understands clearly in order to win you cannot be afraid to lose; Buster has now become a large land owner in many states and has done very well for himself and his family. As Sidney predicted, Buster did get a large slice of the cake.


For the record, Buster not only has a beautiful wife (Charlene must have been taking this picture) but as you can’t help but notice, he has four gorgeous daughters. I happen to know and hug on all of them every time I see them and I can tell you … they love their daddy.

For Buster life as always been a piece of cake. And he did get the large slice.

But make no mistake; the ingredients that make that cake taste so good for Buster are gathered around that table with him.

Miracle Man

I don’t think God makes folks like He used to make them. If He does, I certainly don’t know where they are. When I look back over my life, I realize I was very fortunate to know and rub shoulders with some rather amazing people when I was a young man.

Mr. Cincinnatus Dugger Lucas, better known as “Mr. Nat”, was definitely one of them.

Mr. Nat never had to worry about whether a financial institution was going to foreclose on his home. He never had a mortgage. In fact he lived all his life in the house his father built when he married his mama. For those of you who like numbers, Mr. Nat lived in the same house for 99 years.

In fact I think it would be safe to say that Mr. Nat did not like being indebted to anyone. And I have a strong feeling he never was.

He was never concerned about airport delays or whether an airline was going to charge extra for checked luggage. In his 100 years and 6 months on this earth, he never traveled further than the north Georgia Mountains and Florida.

Mr. Nat Lucas meant it as a young man at the wedding altar when he said “till death do us part.” He was married to one woman for 67 years. His beloved wife Sara died in 1985. I remember the funeral well because my wife was very pregnant with our third and last child during that funeral and I was wondering if I, the undertaker, would get the call from my wife before the funeral was done. She had our baby the day after the funeral and the Lucas family was the first to send a beautiful arrangement of flowers to her hospital room.

I never forgot that.

Mr. Nat spent almost his entire life farming land that had been in his family since the Civil War days. Like most of the farmers in the well to do Crowell Community outside of Reynolds, GA, he was a very successful farmer. A man growing up in the late 1800’s and early 1900's didn’t have a lot of educational opportunities, but that never stopped him from learning. He consumed newspapers and kept up with news on television with great interest throughout his years. He had a great memory and neighbors and visitors were amazed at his incredible recall of people and their stories that happened years earlier.

If there was ever a steward of the land it was him. Among other things, he grew corn, cotton, peaches, pimento and pepper. He also raised cattle, hogs and chickens. And he made a lot of money along the way. He also served as Justice of the Peace for 40 years. And as you might imagine, he was an avid fisherman and hunter.

Mr. and Mrs. Nat Lucas also raised children. And they did an incredible job doing that as well. They had two sons and two daughters and all ended up to be very successful, Christian folks very active in their churches and communities. Three of the four children celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary with their spouses (one of the daughters never married). They had 7 grandchildren, 8 great grandchildren, and at last count, 8 great grandchildren.

Mr. Nat had a physical constitution unheard of these days. When he was a young man he had a ruptured appendix. His father had to take him by train to a Macon hospital where he was confined many weeks. In the late 1940’s he cut his arm through broken glass and severed arteries while attempting to push off his pickup truck. He drove himself the 8 or so miles to the hospital. In the late 70’s he had a horrific head on collision with a big truck moving a mobile home and he almost bled to death.

Mr. Nat had a mind of his own and didn’t mind giving orders and liked to do things his way. When he had the automobile accident, though barely alive, he first refused to let them put him in the ambulance at the accident scene because his funeral home of choice was not there to pick him up. In those days, ambulances and hearses were one in the same. When they finally got him to the local hospital, Dr. Whatley had to ride in the back of the ambulance with him to the Macon Hospital to keep him alive. Although confined to the hospital for several weeks after the accident, he somehow recuperated and came back strong.

Dr. Whatley called him the Miracle Man.

Mr. Cincinnatus Lucas died on June 7, 1992. His grandsons served as pallbearers. At the graveside I noticed his casket was facing the wrong direction on the lowering device. I explained the problem to the grandsons after the service and asked them to hang around after the crowd dispersed so we could turn the casket around.

One of the grandsons laughingly said later that he could almost hear his Grandpa speaking from his casket, “Can’t y’all do one last thing right?”

The truth is Mr. Nat Lucas did an awful lot right in his lifetime. And all of us would do well to take a long look at the example he set. Like I said, God just don’t make folks like him anymore.

By the way, if he was still living, this Miracle Man would be celebrating his 117th birthday today.

Special Moment

They say a picture paints a thousand words. This one paints that and more.

The scene was June 1974. Richard Nixon was President and in a few short months would ask Secretary of State Henry Kissinger to join him on his knees in prayer before he resigned the presidency the next day in disgrace. The largest streak in the history of the US took place a few months earlier 135 miles away in Athens, GA and in April that same year in Augusta, GA, Gary Player won his second Master’s Golf Tournament.

And in Reynolds, GA, Roy Jones escorted his beautiful daughter, Jean, down the aisle of the Reynolds Methodist Church, with a packed house of friendly witnesses looking on, to give her to be married to her sweetheart Robert Cooper.

One of the many witnesses present that day, who is rather noticeable sitting on the back row, was my dad.

Roy Jones was a farmer by trade but was one of the best and funniest writers and story tellers I have ever known. A few years before my parent’s death, we celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary with a banquet and invited many of their close friends to attend. We invited several of the guys to make a few remarks that night, but Roy Jones was asked to give the keynote address.

Roy began his speech that night by saying that he and Ed Goddard grew up at the right place and at the right time. And for the next 25 minutes he kept every person in that room on the edge of their seats and in stitches as he began to relate hysterical stories of the two of them growing up and the time they spent together in the Flint River Swamp … and other places.

I think I learned that night the power of lifelong friendships. They were best friends as little boys and were still best friends at the end. Incredibly they lived their entire lives in the same town.

I have no idea what daddy had on his schedule that summer day when Roy’s daughter was getting married, but there is no doubt this event would have taken priority over whatever else may have been going on.


Interestingly, the gorgeous bride in the picture and pictured here 34 years later with her hubby Robert, is MY lifelong friend. We were in the same grade in school and the same Sunday school class at church during our growing up years. Her mom taught us both in school. My mom taught us both in Sunday school.

Jean emailed me the wedding photo last week with these words, “The picture was taken on my special day but that moment was about those two people.”

That old picture is also about a way of life in a small rural Georgia community I would not trade for all the money in the world.

Happy Birthday Jean Jones Cooper. I didn't send you a gift but I did post a blog. And remember, I know exactly how old you are! But I think all my blog readers will agree that Robert has taken great care of you. Hope your day is a great one.

You Can't Help But Smile

If you enjoy keeping up with people you currently see on a regular basis and those you haven’t seen in a long time, Facebook is the best thing since sliced bread. You can view pictures your Facebook friends have posted, post messages to their Wall for all to see or send private messages. I think the neatest thing is to read the status updates. I find myself reading those and smiling almost every night before turning off the light.

You may read that somebody is tired after a long day and plans on going to bed early, someone else is fighting insomnia, another is practicing their violin, another had fun bowling, another hoped they passed their test, and another is thankful for all the birthday wishes. You will discover that somebody hit a deer , somebody else chased wild turkeys across a golf course, another just finished their Christmas shopping, another made a mess making Gingerbread houses, another thinks they have the best husband in the world and another is suffering from a headache.

You can’t help but smile.

You also smile when you get requests from people to be your friend. Out of the blue you hear from someone you haven’t seen in years and in a few seconds you accept them and get caught up on their life through posted messages and pictures.

I think Facebook started as a social network for young folks but older folks are quickly jumping on the Facebook train.

Case in point, last night I got a friend request from Ruth Jones and I smiled big time. In fact I’m still smiling as I type this. To many of you, that name won’t mean much but some of you are now smiling too. Ruth Jones taught me in school in the 6th, 7th and 8th grades. In fact she is the only one of my elementary school teachers still standing.

She now resides in an Assisted Living Home. I won’t dare tell you how old she is but I will say she is a genuine member of the Greatest Generation. And I will also tell you she greatly impacted a ton of folks over the years as a schoolteacher and I am certainly one of them.

And now she is impacting folks through Facebook.

Her status last night? Ruth is relaxing after a trip to the doctor and Chinese food.

You can’t help but smile.

The Folks He Loved

I have a strong feeling the McDonald family pictured here had a lump in their throat today. Some things you never forget. And some people you never forget. On December 3, 1983 Hugh McDonald passed away. He left behind a beautiful family, consisting of a young wife, three daughters and a very young son.

I remember that day well because I was the 29 year old funeral director who took care of the funeral arrangements and had the honor of serving my heartbroken friends in their most difficult time. They remember that day well because their lives would never be the same again.

When Hugh died, my dad had been having health problems and my wife was taking his place and was assisting me on funerals. She was in a world in which she was unaccustomed to say the least.

The girls remember the kindness of their neighbors. In small towns such as Reynolds, GA, kindness is shown in tangible ways. One of the daughters remembers their neighbor, Opal Wilder, lending her a dress to wear at the funeral. Sixteen year olds usually don’t have a funeral dress in their closet. The girls also remember Delano and Faye Amerson treating them like they were their own kids and giving them a place to hang out… and run.

This family also has mental pictures of grown men such as Bobo Bartlett, Tom Wainwright, James Trussell and Randy Lowe standing at attention at the graveside service with tears rolling down their cheeks. They were friends who served with Hugh in the National Guard. Twenty five years later, Randy is the only one of that foursome still alive.

The funeral service was held at Andersonville National Cemetery. My strongest memory was watching the honor guard fold the American flag and present it to the little boy sitting on the front row who could not begin to comprehend the moment, with these words, “On behalf of the President of the United States and a grateful nation I present this flag to you in memory of your dad in appreciation of his service to our country in the Armed Forces of the United States.”

And then I remember my own chill bumps when Taps was played from a distance.

I also remember by wife going behind the huge magnolia tree that is located close to his grave and weeping.

Tonight my wife and I discussed that December day over dinner.

The little boy who received the flag got married a few months ago. The world kept turning in spite of all the heartache.

Hugh McDonald died 25 years ago today.

But he continues to live on in the hearts of the folks he loved.

Okay to Keep Investing

I spent most of Saturday on the road driving to and from a speaking engagement. I’ve had the privilege of spending days like that over and over again the last dozen years or so. I’ve been to a lot of places and stood in front of a lot of groups.

There are times I know absolutely nobody at the place at which I am supposed to speak. I have a name written on a piece of paper and when I arrive I ask someone to point me to that person so I can introduce myself. Usually that person is not difficult to find because they are standing out front pacing and looking at their watch and hoping I show up.

Many times I know at least a few people who will be in the audience. Every now and then when I am speaking close to home, I know most everybody.

But there has never been anybody who knows me better or is more familiar to me than the two Whatley sisters who were in the audience yesterday in Palmetto, GA.

We grew up across the street from each other in Reynolds, GA. Our parents were best friends and naturally we became best friends. We played together as little kids. Although miles have always separated us, we have stayed in touch throughout the years.

And we share a ton of memories.

When I use stories of my parents to motivate and inspire others, most people listening can only imagine what I’m talking about and who I’m talking about. Debbie and Donna knew them as well as I knew them. And they know all the stories.

In a time when retirement accounts are dwindling and financial uncertainty covers us all like a dark cloud, there are a few assets that continue to grow.

I was reminded yesterday that lifelong friendships that keep growing and growing are worth far more than anything money can buy.

And it's still okay to keep investing in them.

The Lesson is for All of Us

While Lehman Brothers was preparing to declare bankruptcy and Merrill Lynch was in the process of getting bailed out by Bank of America and the insurance giant A.I.G. was getting ready to lend itself $20 Billion in an attempt to stay afloat in the face of cuts to its debt rating, a legend of a house builder passed away in the little town of Reynolds, GA.

In my view, the high flying, high rolling Wall Street fat cats could have learned a lesson or two from the house builder from Reynolds.

Neil Hinton, Jr., pictured here 30 years ago, was a master carpenter who became a master building contractor. At one time all four of his carpenter brothers worked for him. Later his son would become his business partner. I never saw his motto on a sign in front of a house he was building nor did I see it on a sign at the hardware/building supply store he owned and operated. In fact I never even heard him say it.

But his reputation was known by everybody who knew him. It was fairly simple too.

“If you want your house built right, let Neil do it. If it’s the cheapest price you are looking for, go somewhere else.”

Neil certainly never overcharged for his services, but he never cut corners when it came to building a house. In fact, he refused to cut corners when it came to building a house.

Interestingly, most of us can’t tell a well built house from a shoddily built house when we ride by it. The basic appearance looks pretty much the same. But when you start comparing the foundations and the flooring and the amount of lumber used and the craftsmanship and the detail, you can quickly tell the difference.

I can’t help but think about this principle when I think of what’s going on with the Lehman Brothers' and Merrill Lynch’s of the world today. When we looked at them from our glancing perspective, they looked rather formidable. But inside their earnings were not from recurring businesses but their earnings depended on a combination of huge leverage and huge risk and ridiculously over compensated employees.

And not a lot of lumber.

Their houses are now falling along with their stock prices. It seems they chose selfishness over the long term health of the house they were building.

And if we are not careful we can follow that same path and end up not having enough lumber and craftsmanship and detail in the lives we are building.

I’m not sure how many worldly goods Neil Hinton, Jr. left my lifelong friends Kim and Kay, who are his children. But if they take his lead, and I know they already have, they have something far more valuable than worldly goods.

The lesson he left, by the way, is for all of us.

One Gorgeous Helper

“It is not good for man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.” If you read your Bible you know that is a quote from God Himself.

After this weekend I can’t help but wonder if God had Collier Watson in mind when He made that statement.

For the past couple of years, Collier has been doing two things that are very difficult. For starters he has been a medical student at Virginia Tech for two years. That has to be difficult enough. But additionally he has been madly in love with a gorgeous girl who was about 600 miles away.

It’s not easy being in love and the person you love is somewhere else.

At one point earlier this year Collier had a conversation with his dad when the stress of studying and tests were piling up. Collier said, “Dad, if I could just get her here everything will be all right.”

About 5PM Saturday Butler GA time, the helper God made suitable for Collier Watson walked down the aisle of Bethel Congregational Methodist Church to join him at the marriage altar. The familiar Wedding March was never played. But the hair was standing on my head as I listened to the soloist sing “How Beautiful” as her dad escorted her down the aisle.

A few minutes later, Amanda Williamson became Mrs. Collier Watson. And if anyone ever married the “helper suitable for him” it was Collier Watson.


As I write this, Collier and Amanda are honeymooning on an island somewhere in the Caribbean Sea. When they return they will hit the ground running in Blacksburg, VA where Collier will continue his journey in Medical School and Amanda will be employed as a Physician Assistant in a local emergency room.

Collier’s wish to have the woman he loves with him has already come to pass. And the helper God created for Collier Watson is safely in his arms tonight.

I have to tell you - I never saw a more gorgeous helper than the one I saw last night.

Never.

Two More Examples

I had the privilege of visiting with Dr. Hugh Sealy, MD and his wife Connie for a few minutes on Friday. Dr. Sealy, a 1948 graduate of Duke University Medical School, is a retired well known Cardiologist from Macon, GA.

Dr. Sealy has been a major force in the medical community in Middle Georgia for a lot of years now. He has served as President of the Macon Medical Society, served as Chairman of the Macon-Bibb County Hospital Authority and was Director of the Coronary Unit at the Medical Center of Central Georgia for many years. He and another local cardiologist joined together years ago to found the Georgia Heart Center. Dr. Sealy also served as a clinical professor of medicine at Mercer University.

Not bad for a country boy who grew up in Reynolds, GA, population 1200.

Interestingly Dr. Sealy had an older brother who also was a medical doctor. Dr. Will Camp Sealy graduated from Emory University Medical School in 1936. This Dr. Sealy served his internship at Duke University and completed the surgical residency program and eventually became a thoracic surgeon…and a famous one at that.


Dr. Will Camp Sealy, a true international pioneer in thoracic surgery, was featured in Life Magazine in 1958 performing hypothermic cardiopulmonary bypass surgery. He also happens to be credited with developing the field of electrophysiology and is known worldwide as the "father of arrhythmia surgery." In 1968, this Dr. Sealy performed the first pathway ablation for Wolff-Parkinson-White Syndrome on the “fisherman with a fast pulse,” which has been documented in detail internationally in medical journals.

Again, not bad for a country boy who grew up in Reynolds, GA.

Dr. Will Camp Sealy graduated from Reynolds High School in 1929. Dr. Hugh, who I visited with yesterday, graduated from Reynolds High School in 1942.

A few weeks ago I spoke at the 50th Anniversary Banquet of the Reynolds Kiwanis Club, now known as the Kiwanis Club of Taylor County. I spoke of the incredible success in life of the charter members and their families. The Sealy brothers had already left Reynolds before the Kiwanis Club was chartered so they were not included in my remarks but they are no doubt the most famous brothers who ever came out of Reynolds.

I was born and raised in Reynolds and the older I get the more I realize how fortunate I was to grow up there. I have written about this little town in my book, on this blog and spoken about this little town to thousands across this country.

The Sealy brother’s stories are two more examples of why I plan to continue doing that.