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.

Matt Nagy of Tazewell Georgia

If you are a golf fan, you have already read recently about such places as Buena Vista Ga and Taylor County High School in Butler, GA. and Kennesaw State University outside of Atlanta.

But let's get this right.

Matt Nagy, certainly associated with all three places above, has put Cedar Creek Golf Club in Tazewell GA on the map.

He did it this past Monday in grand fashion by qualifying for the United States Open Golf Championship. To put this incredible accomplishment in perspective, Matt will join 154 of the best golfers in the world at Bethpage Black in Farmingdale, NY as play begins this Thursday.

Tiger Woods is the defending champion.

To give you a little better perspective, about 7,000 scratch golfers (USGA handicap of 1.4 or less) competed to qualify for the approximate 63 spaces up for grabs this year. There were 110 local qualifying tournaments throughout the US. The top 3 or 4 players of those 110 tournaments then moved on to join other golfers who had exempted the local qualifying tournaments to compete in about 14 sectional tournaments held throughout the US (and England and Japan).

Matt qualified to play in the sectional as a second alternate after a grueling 7 hole playoff in one of the local qualifying tournaments. Matt was told to show up at the sectional in case one of those who qualified didn't show up. Matt, with no high hopes of even getting to play, showed up at the Sectional in Ball Ground Ga after only 4 hours of sleep. Somebody did not show up and Matt teed off the first hole without even hitting a practice shot.

He shot a one under par 71 in the first round. He said he saw a few things he needed to work on before beginning the afternoon round. So he ate a half of a sandwich and went to the practice tee. Whatever he worked on, worked.

Like really well.

He shot a course record and blistering 63 in the afternoon and ended up at 10 under for the day.

And with it a trip to the US Open.

Matt grew up at Cedar Creek Golf Club in Tazewell, GA, which is somewhat of a suburb of Buena Vista. Cedar Creek is a beautiful little 9 hole course that is owned and operated by the Nagy family. Not only does this incredible family run the pro shop and cut the grass but they are all great golfers.

And they taught the game they love to their kids.

I have a couple of memories of playing Cedar Creek in years gone by.

One memory is the time I spent in the woods looking for my ball on the very tight course. The other is the time I spent watching the little Nagy brothers as little boys with perfect swings hitting the ball straight down the fairway.

"Watch that little boy hit the ball" was a familiar quote on any given day from any foursome at Cedar Creek.

Now the whole golfing world will get to watch.

Matt Nagy of Tazewell GA tees off at 2:42PM Thursday in the U.S. Open, exactly seven groups ahead of Phil Mickelson and Ernie Els.

A Comforting Thought

(St Augustine Beach, FL) One of the neat things about getting old(er) is you can find people you know most anywhere you go. In other words, your friends get scattered out all over the place the longer you live.

I found three such ladies yesterday at the Nautilus store on St. Augustine Beach. And I had a blast reliving some special times of years gone by with this mother and two of her daughters.

Sylvia Sams is the mother of five children. Since I spent a lot of time at her house as a boy hanging out with her oldest son Jimmy, I know them all well.

My goodness she put up with a lot.

I remember such things as putting pillows under the sheets at night so it would look like we were in the bed when she checked on us. We would sneak out to hang out with some nearby girls who also were sneaking out.

Several of us guys formed a rock and roll band and we did most of our practicing on her back patio. We were loud and we were not very good. On top of that, her son was our drummer. So I’m sure it was loud at her house even when the rest of the band was absent.

Now that I think about it I bet she had a difficult time watching her favorite television show or even having a conversation with someone with all the noise we were making.

But by the grace of God we all grew up and Mrs. Sylvia survived it all.

She, along with daughters Linda and Charlotte, have been running a very successful business here for the past 34 years.

For the record she also raised a very successful family. And I sure am thankful I was a small part of it many moons ago during my most formative years.

Friends eventually do get scattered all over the place and some you don’t see very often. But real friends never stop being your friends.

And that, my friend, is a comforting thought.

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.

To Our Younger Selves

As some of you know, the last few weekends I have been working on converting old VHS movies to a digital file that can be uploaded on the internet. I have posted a couple of those videos here but most have been uploaded to YouTube. If you are like me, there is a splendid chance your very valuable old 8MM or VHS footage that was shot years ago is in a cabinet or attic somewhere slowing ruining. So to keep that from happening, I decided to begin the process of uploading them to the internet.

Anyway, I was converting a video last weekend that was taken just 7 years ago and I think it is worth sharing with you and the story behind it.

Growing up in Reynolds, GA, as you might suspect, I attended Reynolds Elementary School. I started in the first grade in 1960 with a group of folks who would become my lifelong friends. There were about 30 of us and most of us went through 8 grades together. Reynolds High School consolidated with Butler High in 1966 and the high school in Reynolds was closed. There were some people in Reynolds (my daddy being one of them) who were very upset when Reynolds lost the high school. Consequently there was a fairly large contingent of kids from Reynolds who went to nearby Fort Valley to high school.

The point being, when our class graduated from the 8th grade in Reynolds, we went to at least two different high schools. Additionally, a couple of years later, the integration law was passed - and private schools began to pop up. So now our close knit class was scattered to the four winds.

In 2002 a group of us from the Reynolds Elementary School Class of 1968 decided to have a reunion. What started as just a good idea started building steam mainly due to the power of the internet. We had a website where classmates and former teachers and others could post their memories. We all shared memories of a wonderful time in our life that was long gone.

And we were all reminded those years were the most formative years of our lives.

To be honest, as the time for the reunion got closer, I began to have second thoughts. We were about to have 20-25 folks (and their spouses), most of which had not seen each other in almost 35 years. There would be people from all walks of life and I began to wonder if the group could find things to talk about. It seemed like a great idea but would it really work?

Our 6th grade teacher, Mrs. Ruth Jones, came to the reunion with her old grade book with all our names and grades in it. We began the program by having her call the roll.

Hearing each individual answer her roll call with “here” or “present” was more than amusing. It was like we were all back in school.

Each classmate came to the podium and talked. Each told a little about their life and special memories they had at Reynolds Elementary School. Some told some great stories and a few told stories that had never been told.

There was a lot of laughter and more than a few tears before we were done.

It was a once in a lifetime event I will never forget.

We were reunited for one incredible evening and we relived our shared past. We were keenly aware everything that happened at Reynolds Elementary School played a part in shaping us.

Dear friends, lift your glasses with me – to our younger selves -their activities, their plans, their promise. May we always remember with gratitude their part in making us who we are today.

(For you local folks who are interested - I have posted below the video we watched that night. Total time is about 15 minutes – and due to YouTube constraints I had to upload on two videos). Enjoy.

The Message of Easter - We Win!

This Sunday morning churches all over will be packed. The old saying, “You don’t build a church for Easter Sunday” is really true. This is the day you get out the folding chairs and people park on the grass.

Little girls will be wearing their Easter dresses and little boys will be wearing their brand spanking new shoes. Where they still dress up to go to church, this is the day they wear their best suit. For those who normally dress more casual on Sundays, they will wear the nicer shirt….or blouse.

Easter is a special day.

If you are in the Christian church business, business doesn’t get any better than Easter Sunday.

This is the day we as Christians celebrate the basis of our faith – the resurrection of Jesus Christ. We believe just as He was raised from the dead, we will one day be raised with him and live eternally with him.

I think my understanding of the Easter story was taken to a new level in the 1990’s when I was a part of a passion play put on every Easter by the First Baptist Church of Butler, Ga. Our church was small by most standards but this was a large production. The last days of Jesus were depicted in colorful drama, as was His excruciating death and His exhilarating resurrection.

Most everybody in the church had a part in the play in one way or another that was held each year in the high school auditorium. I played the role as John and narrated the play. It was my job to introduce each scene from the perspective of Jesus’ best friend. I memorized a ton of lines but in the process I began to see the life, death and resurrection of Jesus in a different light.

It was life changing for me.

Our production, by the way, did not end with the resurrection as many Passion play’s do. Our play ended with Jesus on His throne in heaven. And each and every production, the play ended with everyone in the audience on their feet.

As the last scene (shown below) of that Easter play depicts, the message of Easter for Christians is simple.

No matter what we are going through or what we are facing or what keeps us up at night - we know the end of the story. We've read the end of the Book.

In fact, I’ve memorized the end of the book.

We win!

Happy Easter.

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.

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.

The Power of the Possible

(Columbus, GA) Last night I was sitting at the head table at a banquet. I pulled my camera out of my pocket and took this picture about five minutes before I went to the podium to speak. The scene is one I have experienced hundreds and hundreds of times.

And a scene, as a young man, I never imagined I would be experiencing.

This past Sunday I drove over to Sandersville, GA to attend a funeral. I did not know until I sat down in the chapel and looked at the memorial folder that my lifelong friend would be doing the eulogy at the funeral.

I was more than impressed by his ability to stand in front of a crowd of folks and communicate what was on his heart concerning his beloved friend. He had the audience leaning on every word and eating out of his hand. In a word, his eulogy was brilliant.

After the service at the cemetery, Jimmy and I walked away from the crowd and had a short conversation. After a few words concerning the reason we were there and my compliments on the great job he did, our discussion turned to the irony that we both ended up speaking in public.

Mrs. Ann Harrelson has to be turning over in her grave. Or maybe she is turning over in her wheelchair. She may still be alive. If she is still kicking and anyone knows her whereabouts, please let me know.

Mrs. Harrelson, for your information, was one of our high school English teachers. We also had her for a speech class we took together in the tenth grade. Or maybe it was the eleventh. Both of us hated the class and were mortified to stand in front of twenty five of our peers and give a three minute speech. We were terrible at giving speeches. If someone told Mrs. Harrelson in 1971 that Jimmy Childre and Bruce Goddard would be invited to give speeches 38 years later, she would have laughed.

Out loud.

And we would have laughed even more.

There is a lesson here.

What you hate today, may just be what you love tomorrow. What is unthinkable to you today, may just be a reality tomorrow.

What you think is impossible today, may just be possible tomorrow.

Never underestimate the power of the possible.

Homes Are Forever

Our phone started ringing early at our house today. Friends from our hometown of Reynolds were letting us know that the house in which we raised our family had burned to the ground. Thankfully nobody was hurt or killed.

But at least a thousand memories ran through my mind as I drove to my office in Macon this morning. And a huge lump was in my throat when I drove over this afternoon to visit my friends, the Barrow’s, and to see what’s left of the place where we raised our family.

I was playing golf one afternoon in the fall of 1987 and was driving in a golf cart down number 9 fairway when I saw my friend and realtor Pete Ayers putting a For Sale sign in the yard of that house. I finished playing golf that day and went straight home and told my wife the house we had always wanted was for sale. In a matter of weeks we sold our house and purchased the beautiful house that sat next to Number 9 fairway.

I can tell you there was a lot of living in that house before we ever bought it. In fact, the Bond family lived there for 38 years. Mr. and Mrs. H.C. Bond and family were there long before we took over. I remember being very proud to be moving in the Bond home. And I think Mrs. Bond was proud as well.


When we moved in, I was only 33 years old and Kathy was 32. Our boys were 7, 6 and 2. When we moved to Warner Robins 16 years later, Kathy and I were both 48 – the boys were 23, 21, and 17. I can tell you we did a lot of living in that house. And a whole lot of learning. There was also a lot of praying when our boys got older and were out and about and doing who knows what. Thankfully the praying paid off. They never got killed or killed anyone else and they all turned out fine. But I have to admit I did wonder a time or two if they would make it.

About three months after we moved in, we bought a yellow lab and named her Abby. She was a part of our family the entire 16 years we were there. To say Abby was known by all the golfers would be a huge understatement. She became an institution at the Reynolds Golf Club.

The house was always full of boys. I remember literally stepping over kids sleeping all over the floor of the den on a weekend when I would leave in the middle of the night to go on a death call. The Johnson girls lived across the golf course and they came in and out as much as our own boys. And there were the cousins who came on many weekends and spent weeks at a time in the summer…and the Harrell cousins who visited their grandparents next door.

My goodness there was a lot of living in that house.

For some of you golfers who are reading this who thought you were stung by a wasp when you bent over to tee up your ball, I have come to find out later in life it wasn’t a wasp. You probably were shot by a BB gun by one of my boys with their cousins and/or friends dressed in camouflage hiding in the bushes.


Later the girlfriends came. And my goodness they were cute and I had so much fun. But sometimes I wondered if my boys knew it. I was sitting in the den one night listening to one of my sons break up with his very cute girlfriend. I almost fainted when he told her he felt like he needed to spend more time with his truck.

There were times in the later years when we would have girl spend the night parties. And I would step over girls when I left the house in the middle of the night.

I thought today of the time I drove up and thought there had been a murder. There was blood all under the carport and on the brick walls. My heart dropped to my stomach. I remember being relieved when I discovered John and his friend Syd had picked up a possum on the highway and skinned it under our carport.

I also remember driving up one afternoon and seeing my mother fall as she was walking in the side door. I got her up off the floor and took her to her doctor in Macon that day. He admitted her and she died less than a week later. I also remember my dad eating his last meal in the dining room of that house. I took him back home that night and found him dead the next morning.

When I stood this afternoon looking at the remnants of the place we once called home, I swallowed hard.

But I was reminded of something very important.

Houses can be destroyed overnight.

But homes are forever.

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.

Blog Year in Review - 2008

Engagement of the Year: Actually this is probably the engagement of the decade and maybe of my lifetime. My youngest son, Luke, pulled it off on St. Simons Island in August. He caught it all on video and it made his daddy and mama cry and about 12,000 other folks so far on You Tube. Not only did we get the incredible video but much more importantly, another beautiful daughter in law will be added to our family in September. You can view the video again by clicking here.

Wedding of the Year: I was there when she was born and had the privilege of watching her grow up and I was there when she got married. A stunning bride and a handsome groom make incredible weddings. Collier and Amanda Watson’s wedding was as beautiful as it gets and I wrote about it in August.

Celebrity Sightings of the Year: Hanging around airports as much as I do, I am bound to run into interesting folks. In March I was on a plane with the famous Smothers Brothers and met them and took a quick picture when we exited the plane. In December, a co-worker and I ran into ESPN reporter Chris Mortensen in an airport and sat next to him on the plane. I wrote about both of these celebrity encounters.

Youngest Senior Citizen of the Year: Hands down, Mrs. Ruth Jones takes this award. You can find my former middle school teacher at an assisted living facility in Fort Valley Ga. You can also now find her on Facebook. I wrote about this incredible lady in December.

2008 Eulan Brown Award Winner: This award given to the person who never gives up and keeps on getting up goes to an incredible young lady by the name of Catherine Carswell. She was the youngest girl ever in the state of Georgia diagnosed with breast cancer. I wrote about her in 2007 and in September of this year, I had dinner with her and her fiancé and her mom – and wrote about it here. This incredible young woman today is cancer free and her tenacity and attitude has inspired a ton of folks, including me.

Most Poignant Moment: It was in Chicago and it was a moment I still think about. I was in that city for a speaking engagement and found myself in a cab with a driver who asked me why I was in town. For the next 45 minutes in Chicago rush hour traffic and freezing rain, this complete stranger and I had a conversation that is usually reserved for lifetime friends. I wrote about this incredible encounter and moment in April.

Picture of the Year: Although I have shared a truck load of pictures I have taken this year, the one taken of me with an unknown bride on a riverboat cruise on the Tennessee River is the one that gets this award. I posted that picture and wrote about my wedding crashing moment in an article called “I Never Even Got Her Name” in May.

Birthday Party of the Year: Although everybody has birthdays every year, none was more special than the one on January 24 when my precious princess, Taylor Reese Goddard, celebrated her first at our home. I wrote about it and shared a few pictures as well. In fact, I shared quite a few pictures of Taylor throughout the year. And If I’m still breathing, you will see plenty more of her in 2009. Remember you have been warned.

Most Deserving Award of the Year: It happened in February at the Georgia Sports Hall of Fame Banquet in Atlanta when Norman Carter was honored for being inducted into that special fraternity. I have written about this incredible human being and legendary high school basketball coach and his teams several times on this blog. My wife and I attended the induction banquet for her former coach and lifelong hero. It was a chill bump moment and I was proud to be there and proud to write about it here.

Speaking of chill bump moments….

The Chill Bump Moment of the Year: This happened in Antebellum Grove in Warner Robins, GA in September when an elderly female patient who could not remember where she was from or where her children lived sat down at a piano and played every song I requested as if she had the music in front of her. It was not only a chill bump moment but also a tear drop moment. I wrote about this amazing lady and that amazing moment on September 28.

Vacation of the Year: As last year, my family spent another week at Hilton Head at the beach. I posted plenty of pictures here in early July. Nothing compares to the relaxing time I get to spend with my family. It just doesn’t get any better than that.

Weekend of the Year: I was fortunate to join my wife, her brother and his wife, her sister and her husband for a getaway to New York City in April. We stayed in an apartment at a funeral home although I suppose all of us could have afforded a real hotel. I posted several articles here about that weekend. It was truly a trip of a life time and one I will never forget.

Waitress of the Year: I meet a lot of waitresses throughout the year and strike up a conversation with most. Ariel wins this award hands down and it had nothing to do with serving food. This beautiful high school senior had been in an automobile accident a few months before I met her in a BBQ Restaurant in Hayden Alabama. Three of the four girls in the backseat of the car were killed in the accident. Ariel was the other girl in the backseat. I told her incredible story here and posted a picture of her on May 28.

Community Spirit of the Year: I wrote about Red Bay Alabama on June 1. I was there to speak at a banquet honoring all the merchants of this incredible community. I have never been more impressed with the community spirit in a small town. This community also gets the award for having the most copies of my book. The sponsor gave a copy to every couple who attended.


Triplets of the Year: My great nieces, Mary Camp, Southerland and Ridley, are about as cute as cute can be. I have written about them a couple of times and I still don't know how Ben and Elizabeth do it. Now Elzabeth is pregnant again. In the meantime I captured a pretty special moment at the Goddard family Christmas gathering with this pic.

Student Athlete of the Year: I wrote about Georgia Tech football player James Liipfert on August 26. He graduated from Georgia Tech earlier this month and will be playing his final game tonight at the Georgia Dome in the Chick-fil-A Bowl. He may not play professional football but I will guarantee you he will have a heck of a career in life.

Nostalgic Weekend of the Year: We had talked about doing something like this for several years but in August of 2008 we did it. My lifelong friend, Jimmy Childre, Jr and I spent a weekend in New York City. We attended a Yankees game and two Broadway plays. We reminisced, we laughed, we ate very well, we discussed every subject under the sun and we had an incredible time that can only be experienced by a couple of guys who have been best friends for 54 years. I posted several articles here about that incredible weekend.

Most Beautiful Eligible Bachelorette: This is easy. This award goes to Erin Edwards. This Arkansas beauty has it all and is a winner if I have ever seen one. I met her in Bentonville Arkansas and wrote about her and posted her picture here on November 4.

Most Beautiful Not Eligible Bachelorette: This award goes to Chaley Bibb. I wrote about this gorgeous 16 year old girl on November 2. She will make some very lucky guy a wonderful wife – one day. I just hope I don’t have to bury the snotty nosed boy that tries to get ahead of her dad’s timetable.

Blessed Man of the Year: I get this award. I have a beautiful wife of over 31 years who amazingly continues to love me and put up with me. I have three wonderful sons, two daughters in law and one soon to be daughter in law who make me more proud than words can express. And I have a perfect grandbaby girl who calls me Papa.

Obituaries of the Year: I wrote about each of the folks listed below during the year. Each one of them impacted my life in a personal and positive manner and I am a better person for having known them. May they rest in peace.

Faye Amerson
Edward Arnold
Neil Hinton, Jr.
Ephraim K. Johnson
Evelyn McGill
Blanche Perkins
Dr. Clifford Ray
Lisa Windham

And here’s hoping none of us reading this will be listed in the obituaries here next year.

The way I see it, every day above ground is a good one.

Happy New Year.


(FYI, there is a Search Blog box at the left top of this page. You can type in key words or names and hit search to find a previous post if you want to check it out :-)

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.

Family Reunion

(Reynolds, GA) Family reunions are definitely made for Christmas. And for birthdays. It is especially neat when you can gather to celebrate Christmas and a birthday at the same time.

Daniel Whatley was born on December 25, 1744. He actually lived to be almost 113 years old. That’s a very long time especially when you understand that medical science wasn’t quite as advanced during his era as it is today. My goodness people died from such things as dysentery in those days. I also couldn’t help but notice this Whatley patriarch was 31 years old when the Declaration of Independence was signed.

Thanks to the work of his great great grandson, Julian, Daniel Whatley can now celebrate Christmas and his 264th birthday with a son and daughter in law and a couple of his grandchildren.

But more importantly, Whatley descendents for generations to come can now ride out to Little Vine Cemetery and remember the folks who gave them their DNA. And then they can ride over to Hillcrest Cemetery and visit a few more generations of their ancestors.


The idea for the “Whatley Project” was birthed at a "live" Whatley family reunion. The project was to clean up an old cemetery and to preserve a very rich family heritage. When the cleaning began, Julian found more ancestors than he realized existed at Little Vine Cemetery. He had the existing monuments cleaned and aligned in proper order and installed new concrete ledgers. He then moved the monument of Daniel Whatley from an isolated and grown over little cemetery on the other side of town and placed it next to his family members.

There is still more cleaning to be done and a few more final touches to be added before the project is completed. But the family gathering has taken place. Just in time for Christmas and just in time for the birthday of the man who brought the Whatley’s to middle Georgia.

I think Sir Daniel would be quite proud of the way his family turned out. And I am quite certain the surviving Whatley’s are proud that his memory and those of their other ancestors will now live on in a more tangible way at Little Vine Cemetery.

I can tell you a real family reunion has taken place there.

Refined Gold

Last weekend I spoke at a company Christmas party. Actually I spoke at a few of those events last weekend. But at this particular party, I had a date. I really didn’t know I had a date until I got there but sometimes you just get pleasantly surprised.

The date, which consisted of sitting next to each other at dinner, was with my long time friend Vicki (pictured here in brown with her daughter Destiny). I understood completely why I would need a date for this event because my wife was home keeping our grandbaby. But for the life of me I couldn’t understand why this gorgeous gal would not have a date and have to settle for me. In fact, for the life of me I don’t understand why she isn’t taken.

For you folks in blog land who don’t know Vicki, let me tell you a little about this former cheerleader and homecoming queen. And for you single middle age guys who are looking for a prize catch, you should probably ease up to the edge of your chair and play close attention.

Actually I’ve known Vicki and her family a long time. But, being the undertaker I am, I really got to know her during the worst days of her life. Days she will never forget and memories that still cause her to wince with pain. But days that have made her a much stronger human being than she ever thought possible.

And much stronger than most other folks.

The date was July 19, 1986. My family and I were in Panama City Florida on vacation when I got the call that Travis, Jack and Vicki’s 14 month old baby boy, had passed away. I left immediately to come home to take care of this family.

The death certificate would eventually label it “Crib Death.” The community of Butler and Taylor County labeled it a nightmare.

After that funeral I gave Vicki a personal Bible and I wrote a letter to her in the front of it. I wanted this devastated young mother to have a glimpse of hope and comfort that only God could give during a time when it was very difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I don’t remember what I wrote but I do remember that was the only time I gave a Bible with a letter in it to someone after a funeral.

Along with his parents and many other grief stricken family members, Travis left behind a four year old sister named Whitney. Jack and Vicki would later have another girl and boy – Destiny and Tanner.

Jack and Vicki would also later go through the pain of divorce.

Good lord life can be tough.

But life goes on anyway. Whitney is now 25 and Destiny is 21. Both are married now and Destiny has a little boy of her own. Their little brother Tanner is now 18.

Not surprising to me, after the divorce Vicki decided to go to college. At age 35, she received a Bachelor’s Degree in Business Administration. She quickly landed a job with a great company and has been gainfully employed ever since.

Vicki may not know it but her close friends and family are praying for her ”knight in shining armor” to come sweep her off her feet and take her away on the white horse. If anyone ever deserved to be on that horse, it would be Vicki.

The way I see it, when people go through fire, they either get burned up… or come out the other side as refined gold.

Vicki is of the refined gold variety.

And by the way guys, if you don’t have the white horse – a convertible will work just fine. Just let me know and after I check you out and all your references, I will get you a phone number.