by Neile Parisi
For the present time, I decided to continue my pseudo-teaching job at school, and spend most of my free time with Jonathan. He was content with that for now. We planned to visit my mom at Thanksgiving. We were equally excited. My mom was elated that I would be visiting for almost a week, and I hoped it wouldn’t cause me too much sadness to be home. My mom said, “You deserve to find someone and be happy.” I thought that should happen after she died. I wanted her to meet and approve of Jonathan, but I feared she would think I was making another mistake by deciding to marry him. I hadn’t had much luck picking out husbands. This trip would help me decide whether or not I should return to my home and live with Mom. I knew I was taking the chance of losing Jonathan, but I also knew I had to do what was morally right. I prayed for answer, and that whatever the answer turned out to be would sit well with Jonathan.
After living in Easly for so long, I felt comfortable and at home. I had fallen in love with Southern people, Southern food, and the Southern way of living. It wasn’t perfect, but so much of it was right. I had never met such kind, helpful, caring people.
Take Otis Dawson, the owner of the only gas station in town. He was a poster child for helping. He was known to fix people’s cars and not charge them if they couldn’t afford it. I think he started the barter system in Easly. He would gladly have dinner in trade for changing someone’s oil, and he considered that a fair trade.
Take Millie, one of the old-timers. We never knew her real age, but we guessed 108, according to Dr. McClain. One day, she needed to go to the hospital. Otis had found her nearly dead in her bedroom. He scooped her up in his arms, put her in the tow truck, and was about to take her to the hospital when she said, “I don’t have my teeth.” He quickly returned and looked for them. He found them in the commode, washed them off, and gave them to her. He never gave it a second thought. He always did the right thing. I had never forgotten that act of kindness. He taught me so much.
There were so many people, and so many examples of goodness. Miss Blanche Delilah Thompson, a second-grade teacher, had sheltered, fed, and cared for eleven foster children during her teaching career. Most of our students lived with a relative other than their parents. She ended up adopting two of those foster children. They still lived with her.
Then there was Atticus Fenton, who worked at the hardware store—a young, strong, kind gentleman. He was known to install car parts that were purchased at his store for free. One day, he was under a car repairing something, and felt a prick on his hand. He didn’t think anything of it until he pulled his hand out and saw two small red holes indicating that he had been bitten by a snake. He drove himself to the hospital and was treated for a rattlesnake bite. It was actually the third time he had been bitten. The doctors said he must have built up an immunity, because he was released from the hospital just a few hours after receiving the antidote. The first time he was bitten, he spent three days in the hospital, and nearly died. I guess his body was used to it.
It was a common occurrence in Easly, snake bites—considering we had more snakes and bugs there than people. Once, while I was visiting an older woman in our local church community, I asked if I could help her with anything. She lived in a double-wide trailer at the far end of town. It was pretty roomy and attractive when you were inside the unit. You didn’t even feel like you were in a mobile home. But on the outside, when you saw the skirting and the oil tank, it had no curb appeal.
Well, Miss Charlotte Cordelia asked me to do a load of wash for her, which I agreed to. She had a shed out back with a washer and dryer in it. You had to walk down a dirt path overgrown with high weeds and grass. I started to worry about snakes. Actually, I was petrified. I made it to the shed carrying the basket full of clothes without a snake encounter. Whew! I opened the shed door, turned on the light, and opened the lid to the washer. There, curled up inside the washer, was a rattler! I screamed, dropped the clothes, and ran back to Charlotte.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Charlotte, I can’t do the wash. There’s a snake in the washer.”
She replied, “Just y’all git yourself a heapen’ big stick and shew it away.”
I said, “I just can’t do that. I’ll call someone else to help you.”
I said my goodbyes, and ran to my car. I never went back there again. I will never get used to living with snakes. This would probably be the one reason I would ever leave Easly.
And, of course, Henrietta Calhoun had been the finest example of pure kindness. She did everything for everybody. I think she would have been like that even if she hadn’t been rich. It was just her nature. She always kept food in her office: a big bowl of apples, and another bowl of pecans, sandwiches, and various items. It was always good, clean food; no junk. She said, “You cannot learn if you are hungry,” and she noticed who was hungry. She would purposely invite children to her office to sample food. She would say, “I ain’t sure which sandwich is the best. Could y’all please taste these, and let me know?” or “You know, I’m entering ma pecans in the fair. Try them, and y’all tell me if y’all think they the best y’all ever tasted.”
Henrietta had been shrewd and creative. She made sure no one went hungry. She was known to send food home with many a child for their family. She started Backpack Fridays, only it was Brown Bag Fridays. She had boxes of food laid out in the all-purpose room for the children to choose from: fruit, nuts, muffins, beef jerky, and vegetables, of course; okra, boiled eggs, homemade bread, and sometimes treats from Honey Bee Bakery. They were most gracious, and not at all greedy. The rule was, you could take one of everything, but you had to promise to eat it all.
My least favorite thing about Easly was the snakes and bugs, but the food made up for it. I remember the first time I had chicken-fried steak—what an odd name for steak. It was outstanding. And now I couldn’t imagine life without fried okra and baked beans. I was never a fan of pecan pie, but banana pudding pie was now a staple in my life.
I’m not saying there are not kind people where I came from; it’s just that there seemed to be more of them in a small, poorer town. I had been welcomed without hesitation into the Easly family, and I had no regrets. I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave Easly. I even had a Southern accent now, y’all. But the plans were set, and I would go visit home, accompanied by Jonathan.
My family welcomed Jonathan with open arms and open hearts. My two brothers loved him. They were fascinated that he carried two guns with him at all times—not just because he was a former police detective, but because of the fact that everyone carried guns in the South. It was accepted. They spent hours discussing life, both at home and in the South.
Jonathan made a great impression on my mom, showering her with gifts: teacups and teapots, lace doilies, a handmade scarf, and a South Carolina state flag. She approved of him, not because of his gifts, but because he was such a gentleman—a real Southern gentleman. I loved to hear him call me by name. “I just love your daughter Nail,” he would tell my mom. We all laughed. He fit right in with the family. We spent two days visiting with family and friends, and two days touring the East Coast. He was impressed, but always compared everything to the South, naturally. I wasn’t sure if he could ever live here, or if he even wanted to. He said he’d love to visit again. The key word there was visit.
After seeing my mom, I wasn’t sure I could leave her. I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave her or my home. It did feel good to be home, and see old friends and family. And you know what they say…there’s no place like home. I thought maybe I should invest in a pair of ruby slippers, so I could visit whenever I wanted. Well, I didn’t have to decide that day. I knew Jonathan wanted me to marry him and live with his family in South Carolina, but I also know that he would gladly visit my mom with me anytime. All I had to do was ask. What I didn’t know was if he’d let me stay with my mom and visit him. Would he be patient and wait for me?
Our short visit ended with some smiles, but more tears. I promised my mom that I would be back soon, and I meant it. I just knew th
at I had to. My grandmother would say, “A mother can take care of ten children, but ten children cannot take care of one mother.” She was right. Why was that true? I think Asian culture has successfully overcome that, but not American culture. We fill our lives with things and activities instead of memories of our family. Instead of spending time with our loved ones, we travel to spend time with strangers in strange places. Would we ever get it right? Would I make the right decision?
CHAPTER 29
The Awards Assembly
THE DAY FINALLY CAME. Mrs. Baxter said the mayor, the town council, the fire department, and the school board were all ready to meet and honor the heroes of the devastating fire, or the calamity, as we referred to it. I was not ready for this. I didn’t think it was necessary for them to honor me, but I listened to Mrs. Baxter, who reminded me that Mrs. Calhoun and Becky Sue and her family would have wanted it this way. The arrangements included a tour of the new school and speeches from the principal, the fire chief, the mayor, and Mr. Sawyer, the father of Memphis, who had died in the fire.
Mrs. Penelope Baxter was schooled in the practices of serving as principal. More importantly, she had a heart big enough to love everyone with whom she came into contact. She had to fill Henrietta’s shoes, and she was doing a great job. Many people compared her to Mrs. Calhoun, and she remained steadfast and held her ground when someone would say, “I don’t think that is the way Henrietta would do that.” She’d smile and say, “I did confer with her, and she is happy with my performance.” That usually shut them up permanently. Mrs. Baxter had spent thirty-two years in the classroom, and she knew all the students very well. It wasn’t a large enrollment, so she knew everyone by name. She was like Henrietta in a lot of ways: always willing to help anyone. She loved her family, and she loved the students.
Mrs. Baxter was an avid reader and was attempting to write a book herself. The faculty respected her, and she backed them and supported and fought for them…so unlike my former principal. She was doing an excellent job. She was fair, caring, knowledgeable, and visible. Just what you want in a principal. She held to her principles, and some parents thought she was too strict or harsh. She had a reputation to uphold, however, and she was accountable. Mrs. Baxter had to spend more time on the job, so her husband spent more time rearing their three children. He also learned a few more recipes, much to the kids’ delight. It would all be worth the effort to sacrifice now, for her new job. She was the first of the four speakers.
Next, we heard from Wesley Griggs, the fire chief in Easly. Wesley came from a long line of firefighters. He was a little man in stature, but a giant in every other way. Wesley had been hurt in a fire eight years earlier, and was now confined to a wheelchair. He never let his disability stop him from bringing joy to others. He was as big as life. The kindergarteners liked to ride on his lap and wheel around the room. Wesley had several of his own grandchildren and a blended extended family with his new wife. His first wife hadn’t been able to handle the outcome of the accident, so she divorced him. He spent two years recuperating, then he married his physical therapist, who was a widow and adored his spunk. It was easy to fall in love with Wesley. He was a competent fire chief, despite his injury.
We had our share of trials in Easly, but we also had our share of blessings too. Wesley always had a good attitude, even amidst the turmoil and sadness. He said we grow and learn from our experiences. I never saw him down or angry, except the day of the fire. We were all affected by it, but not as much as Wesley. As the fire chief, he felt an extra responsibility, as if he could have done more. He knew in his heart there was nothing else that could have been done, but he still felt guilty. I didn’t think he would ever get over it. He was prepared to talk about forgiveness and joy. Joy in the morning, the morning of the resurrection. Wesley was quite a religious man. Had he not pursued this occupation, he might have been a preacher. He would have been a great one too. He had great faith, and wanted to wrap it around everyone like a warm blanket. To see his strength made you believe him and everything he said. He was a true hero…not me.
The mayor was slated to speak next. He was just an old Southern gentleman. Owen Jackson had been mayor as long as anyone could remember. No one had run against him, so he always won, even if that was against political rules. People thought, why change, if he is doing such a good job? I didn’t know anyone who disagreed with him on politics. He listened to the people, and did what they wanted and needed. I don’t even think he was associated with a party.
Mayor Jackson wasn’t a Democrat or a Republican; he was a Southerner. He had a gun rack in his truck, and a smokehouse in his yard. He taught his boys how to hunt, camp, fish, and provide for their families. He’d teach those skills to anyone. He was a hard worker, and expected everyone to have the same work ethic he did. He was available to help you move in or out of town, and wasn’t afraid to tell you which one you should do. He worked hard, and loved harder. He was in charge of everything, from the county fair to the barn dance to the potluck dinner to the local fundraiser. He would stand at the pulpit with all the authority he had and marry you or divorce you with love. And he did all these things well. Nobody messed with him. He had a kind heart, and would bail out a man who had drunk too much so he could go home and take care of his family. He saw the good in everyone, and that was why he was the mayor.
Violet Mobley, president of the board of education and town council, followed the mayor. She had three sisters named Rose, Magnolia, and Poppy. It was common for parents to name their girls after flowers. Her mom said she looked like a shrinking violet—hence the name. Well, Violet certainly proved her wrong; she was anything but shy. She held several positions in town, and held her head up high. She was independent, successful, sometimes controlling, and extremely focused on whatever project she was involved in at the moment. She taught her girls to be strong women. Besides her husband, there were no other men in the house. This fact allowed him the luxury of having his own bathroom, which he would occasionally share with the women.
Violet started out as the PTA president, but quickly climbed the ladder to president of the board of education and town council president. She said these positions went together neatly and complemented each other well. She had been a star cheerleader and drum majorette in high school and married shortly thereafter. She had three girls—boom, boom, boom—and never furthered her education. She wanted her girls to all graduate and marry later in life, and to have substantial careers. Though she loved her husband and girls, she secretly wished she had waited to marry and pursued a different path. Despite everything, she was content.
The last speaker was Cash Sawyer, father of Memphis Sawyer, who had perished in the fire. Cash was a humble man. He volunteered to speak because he loved his son so much, and he wanted everyone to know how much he and his wife and son had loved Mrs. Henrietta Calhoun. He began by praising the town and the people who had welcomed his little family when they moved to Easly. They never made them feel inadequate or poor, even though they barely had two pennies to rub together. Mrs. Calhoun always made sure Memphis had something to eat and extra milk, even though they couldn’t afford to buy it. The teachers made a special effort to love Memphis. He struggled in school, but never felt badly about it. No one made fun of him. Each day, he would come home with wondrous tales to tell about Henrietta, his teachers, his classmates, and everything he had learned. He was such a happy child.
“Thanks to all of you. You made my son happy during his short life. I am so grateful that we chose to move to Easly and be part of this great family. I am so grateful for this school and the heroes who saved your children. It was the hardest thing we had ever done to bury our son, but it was the sweetest feeling to know he was in the arms of Mrs. Calhoun. I am glad we voted to refurbish the school and keep the memories safe here. Thank you all for that you have done.”
Mr. Sawyer received the loudest applause. Everyone agreed with his sentiment. They were happy that we had our school, our teachers, and our to
wn.
Plaques and awards were passed out, and refreshments were served. The entire town was invited. Mrs. Baxter had extended the invitation to all the families of the deceased children in addition to the Calhoun and Blackmoore families.
All of Mrs. Calhoun’s family replied that they would attend, which included seven children and many grandchildren and great-grandchildren. They would be coming from California, Colorado, Illinois, Maine, and right here in South Carolina.
Mr. Blackmoore had passed away a year after his wife died, I think of a broken heart. Their three children still lived in Easly, and would attend with their children.
Of the families that had moved away, only three would return to attend the assembly: Becky Sue Belmont’s family, Kent Austin’s family, and Billy Deluke’s family. Locally, the Sawyers, the Jeffersons, the Masons, and the Boone families would attend.
The parents and families of the four students I had saved all responded yes to their invitations. They included Buddy Ray Preston’s family, Dixie Taylor’s family, Georgia Lawson’s family, and Charles Jackson’s family. It would be a difficult time for everyone, even though almost two years had passed. Certain memories always seem fresh.