Mockingbird Songs

by Wayne Flynt

  While on the subject of Mr. Shields, I think he really missed the boat when he did not delve a bit more in the history of our First relatives and he could have done that in his own backyard in Virginia. It would have been much more interesting to his readers than such gems as the number of manholes in N.Y. sewer system! Enough of that character.

  Honestly, I promised not to stay on my soap box.

  Sincerely,

  Alice

  February 9, 2007

  Dear Wayne,

  Thank you for your note and the copy of your nomination of Leah Rawls Atkins for membership in Alabama’s Academy of Honor. Nelle Harper is yet at home and she asked that I express to you her gratitude for the nomination. Of course there are 96 others who have to vote with you and N.H., but I cannot see how anyone could be less than impressed by the Atkins’ record of service to education, sports, the business community and to the entire state.

  I was impressed by the kindness of Sean and Shannon who sent me a lovely card from Florence. With the brevity of the trip and 24 college students to supervise, how could they possibly remember me and my mailing address?

  This last year is memorable for me because it expanded our circle of friends to include you and Dottie and your children. I grieve that Louise cannot know about it and rejoice. Unfortunately, just hearing about it will not register nor be remembered by her. I am not one who wishes the past could be relived—I enjoyed most of it, but have always looked forward to things to come. However, this is a situation to which I look back and enjoy the fond memory of some fascinating trips that the three sisters made together during the brief years between the death of our father and Hershel’s myocardial infarction, after which Louise would rarely leave him overnight.

  Several years ago, when I lost my hearing, music went out of my life, instrumental as well as vocal. The memory of sounds is still with me and when a good choir comes on TV, I turn off the sound completely and within the total quietness I “hear” those magnificent strains.

  Nelle Harper is returning to L.A. next week. Don’t be misled—it’s neither Lower Alabama nor Los Angeles. It’s to Large Apple.

  Sincerely,

  Alice

  April 16, 2007

  Dear Nelle,

  When Dartie and I returned from lecturing to the University of Sussex, Tom Carruthers called to tell me you were in the hospital. After the shock wore off, I have offered a great many prayers on your behalf (I am not sure God pays much attention to Baptist prayers anymore after we have made such fools of ourselves, but just in case God is as lenient with us as he was with the Hebrews, I will keep trying).

  Enclosed are clippings with good news and bad news: bad news is that you lost out in the Birmingham idol cultural icon contest sponsored by (who else conducts such silliness) the Birmingham News: good news is that the BBC poll on world book day ranked TKAM 5th (behind Austen, JRR Tolkien, Charlotte Bronte, and J. K. Rowling) & one place ahead of the Bible. So you have now passed God but have not quite overtaken fried green tomatoes.

  We love you and wish you a speedy recovery.

  Wayne & Dartie Flynt

  On the preferred writing paper for one with no balance.

  April 27, 2007

  Dear Wayne:

  I am not sure just how much you know about Nelle’s condition. The stroke paralyzed her left arm and left leg. Thankfully, she is mentally O.K. When friends found her, she was taken to Mt. Sinai Hospital and after about 10 days was removed to that part of the hospital which deals in rehab. She has now received the maximum of treatment and is waiting to be moved to Lakeshore in Birmingham. Paper work is underway for her acceptance there. In the meantime everyone is trying to plan a way to get her there. Nelle simply refuses to fly. She started back years ago when she worked for BOAC. She broke this rule on the occasion of Mother’s death and that of our brother. She is determined to get to Birmingham by way of the handicapped room on the Crescent. I am told that she has limited movement in her arm and hand: that the leg in a brace allows her to “walk” with assistance. I put those quote marks for the reason that Nelle says she slides, while others call it walk.

  The situation is simply horrible for me. To try to manage certain things that can only be done by me, and to have to get telephone messages through a third party is almost beyond frustration.

  Things for me are really more distressing than you know. On March 1, our nephew’s wife, Marianne Lee, unexpectedly underwent surgery for colon cancer. At the end of the operation, the surgeons thought they were able to get it all, but the pathology test said no. Colon Cancer Stage III, so she is now in the throes of chemo-radiation—chemo treatment which could be spread over a period of 9 months.

  You have always heard that things happened in threes? The third was the unexpected resignation of my paralegal, without whom I am just lost. It was for good reason and she left with my blessing, but her replacement has a long way to go.

  I am telling you all this to let you know that when I finally got around to doing my bit on Monroeville for the Encyclopedia of Alabama, I was really in no shape to do it, but I did try. I simply could not concentrate. My mind was always in N.Y. I know that I have embarrassed you with what I have done. It matters not to me if the committee just tosses it out and gets someone else to do it. It sounds like what it is: the rambling thoughts of a 95 year old woman who could not put her mind on what she was trying to do.

  Will keep you posted on Nelle’s whereabouts and her improvement. It will be slow, but she is determined to recover. Thanks to you and Dottie for your prayers.

  My best to both of you,

  Alice

  April 29, 2007

  Dear Alice,

  Thanks so much for the update about Nelle. I suppose that news is the best we could have hoped for under the circumstances. Although I will be glad to have her close enough to visit, I fear that her anonymity won’t last long in Birmingham, but perhaps I underestimate the professionalism of the staff at Lakeshore. Although the trip by train won’t be pleasant, frankly travel by air is nearly as bad. There is a company in Birmingham, Medjet, that will fly her down, and the plane carries an entire medical crew. Of course, it is expensive unless one has Medjet insurance, which we have purchased during our overseas travel.

  We were sorry to learn about Marianne’s surgery. That is hard surgery, and I hope she has a successful chemo cycle of treatment.

  As for your article in the EOA, don’t fret. If you aren’t satisfied with the article, just hold it until you feel better, or we can delay it. That is the grand byproduct of an electronic encyclopedia. If the article is not ready for publication when we go online late this year or early next year, we will just add it online later when it is ready.

  Given the loss of your legal assistant, Nelle’s problems, and all the other disruptions you have experienced, you don’t need something else to worry about. You will certainly not embarrass or disappoint me in any way however it turns out.

  Dartie and I are coming down for the Alabama Writer’s Conference this weekend, and we were wondering if you might be able to have lunch with us Thursday. We plan to come by your office about 1:00 P.M. Thursday to see if you are free to eat lunch with us. But don’t change any plans you have. We can be there at 12:00 if that fits your schedule better.

  Sincerely,

  Wayne

  May 31, 2007

  Dear Wayne:

  My nephew, Dr. Edwin C. Lee, and I went to Birmingham Saturday for our first visit with Nelle. We found her looking amazingly well. It would be hard to believe that she was so ill recently. The loss of 23 pounds is a big plus.

  She is quite satisfied with her new living arrangements and already into the new patterns of her therapy. Her telephone is right at her bed and if she is in her room will answer it herself. This is her number:

  1–205-868-2159

  If you are in Birmingham in person and find Lakeshore to visit, you will be carefully screened before they take you to room 109B.

  My b
est to you and Dottie,

  Alice

  Monday

  Dear Ones:

  No sooner than your backs were turned, I put the McCourt cassette on, only to discover a Welty disc in the machine. She was reading the last line of “Petrified Man,” one of my favorites, of course. Please forgive me. My holding a cassette from you is purely intentional. You must ask me for it when next you visit, which I hope will be tomorrow.

  I love you,

  NELLE

  22 August ’07

  My Both:

  There is no end to your kindness—it won’t even end with you because you are forever. I guess that is not a very learned or intelligent take on the hereafter, but Wayne has read more on things eternal than I.

  22 August

  Would you believe I began this one week ago? I’ve been companied out this past week. After therapies there have been people every afternoon & evening. The weekend was guest-ridden except for Alice on Saturday who is never ridden although a guest.

  Ed Bridges brought Kathryn Windham from Selma here. She was in full throttle and was hilarious. It seems to just come naturally. They are making strange whispers here—nobody will say anything except “when you get home . . .” etc. Oh well, it’s always something.

  Will you please thank the young ones for this delightful writing paper? It’s like Baby Bear’s if he had any—JUST RIGHT!

  No other news. I just love you.

  Your boring friend,

  NELLE

  9/13/07

  Dear Nelle,

  (I hope you can read this with your new “eyes” [glasses])

  How I miss seeing you as often as we did in August! We were too spoiled and cocky! Guess I must say I don’t like the reality of having you there and us here in Auburn. We will be back in Birmingham for a few days with my ear surgery. That will be September 24th. We will see you then. We may pop in and surprise you. If the operation is successful, it will save time. We won’t be saying everything twice as we do around here.

  Now! As my wonderful mother would say “I have a bone to pick with you.” How in all God’s green world did you come up with the idea that you are boring??!! To quote our 6 year old: “THAT’S CRAZY!!!” If that is all you have to worry about, you must not live in the same world as the rest of us. You are bored with that place and all the hard work of rebuilding your body. But you are no more boring than Wayne Flynt or anybody I know.

  However you came up with that idea, FORGET IT!!!

  “End of sermon” (and end of my letter).

  Much love and admiration

  Dartie Flynt

  18 October ’07

  Dear Ones:

  They are springing me from here on 10 November, and I hope you can make it to see me before then if only to recover your property that you have so kindly left on what must be to you permanent loan.

  I can’t say a word about your generosity to me, because the ones I have are insufficient. None, not one, will do. So I will use two feeble words that are somewhere in the neighborhood:

  THANK YOU.

  The only thing that saddens me about leaving this place is knowing that I’ll see less of you. You will, if you go down Hwy 21 from Mgy [Montgomery] find me on the right of the bypass: The Meadows assisted living establishment. If you come from Mtgy via I-65, etc., I’ll be in the last white house on the left.

  I love you

  NELLE

  October 20, 2007

  Dear Nelle,

  What wonderful news! If Lakeshore folks had kept you much longer, I was going to organize a posse of my cousins who worked for the Birmingham police force and we were going to storm that place and spring you.

  We will come see you the first week of November, recover what you don’t need (though we have one of those machines that plays CDs, tapes, and radio, so you keep that in order to remember us), and sit a spell. We will call before we come.

  We will obtain further instructions about The Meadows at that time. And you may be assured we will find you wherever you hide.

  I attended a Mary Reynolds Babcock Foundation meeting this week in North Carolina and talked with a board member whose friend in Atlanta had a stroke while in his 40s. He was in a coma and not expected to live. Now, five years later, his only symptom is a limp. So, sometimes progress can be slow but steady. It’s like growing up when you are a child: it seems that every day lasts 24 hours but is much longer (that is a paraphrase not plagiarism, though I once read something like that in a novel about an undistinguished southern town).

  We love you and pray for you every day.

  Love,

  Wayne & Dartie

  8

  Marble Lady/Authentic Woman

  A key element of our friendship with Nelle was my refusal to treat her as a marble statue or unapproachable titan of world literature. That was especially true after her stroke and relocation to Monroeville led to a prolonged period of boredom. Knowing how much she relished satire, pretended insults, and witty rejoinders, I did my best to spar with her. My letter of October 30 is typical, although I turn serious at the end in expressing our pride at her receiving the Presidential Medal of Freedom from President George W. Bush.

  Nelle was determined not to receive the presidential award while sitting in a wheelchair. With courage worthy of Franklin D. Roosevelt, she attacked physical therapy like a mockingbird pouncing on a june bug. At the November 5, 2007, White House ceremony, she was surrounded by Alabama congressmen who, given their records of racial intolerance, were most likely celebrating a novel they probably had not read and certainly did not understand. Veronique Peck was there, alongside Lee family members and lots of Alabama and New York friends. Nelle rose from her wheelchair, firmly grasped the arm of a tall US Marine, and walked slowly toward the president. Transferring her firm grip to the president’s elbow, she listened intently as President Bush read the tribute to her.

  When Nelle sent us a Christmas card with the printed message “Naughty or Nice: Which list are you on?” her response put me in my place and, as usual, won her the final word on the matter. In general, though, as Nelle’s physical strength and sight declined, so did the content of her letters, which were more frequent but less consequential.

  The “Society of Usual Suspects” mentioned in one of the letters was created by Nelle and resulted in equal parts from her literary imagination, feelings of boredom, and love for mystery novels and legal fiction. The dozen or so female members, Dartie among them, received a blue T-shirt bearing the society’s name, a black Mardi Gras mask, and a pewter pen. Nelle dubbed herself the Prime Suspect, and everyone involved had fun playing along.

  On May 16, 2008, the Alabama Lawyers’ Hall of Fame honored Nelle for combining legal education at the University of Alabama Law School, her father’s noble character, and her imagination to create the fictional Atticus Finch, arguably the most recognizable and beloved attorney in the history of the English language.

  The “Kathryn” I refer to is Kathryn Tucker Windham, who celebrated her ninetieth birthday with history’s biggest ever wax-paper-and-plastic-comb band parade. (If you’ve never heard of such a thing, let me explain: You wrap a comb in wax paper, put your mouth on it, and sort of hum. The paper vibrates and makes a kind of music.) The event drew four hundred people, who took lawful possession of Selma’s major thoroughfare in front of the public library. Kathryn led the throng of well-wishers in old-time Methodist hymns and congratulated God for providing a scorching June day whose noontime temperature of 90 degrees exactly equaled her age. When I related the story to Nelle on our next visit, she enjoyed it almost as much as the Chilton County peaches and Randle Farms blueberries we picked and brought to her.

  Unfortunately, laughter died quickly at the Meadows, swallowed by the tedious monotony of life in assisted living. Letters from Nelle warned of fading short-term memory, although her long-term recollections were still sharp. In my nearly eight decades on earth, I have not encountered a professor of literature who had read so widel
y, remembered characters, plots, and settings so well, or was as capable of precisely quoting long passages from novels and poetry—and this at a time when her reclusiveness was feeding local rumors of senility or even dementia. The Nelle we knew and visited at least monthly was nothing like the one being discussed in Monroeville social circles, whose chatter reminded me of the conversations of the Methodist missionary society in To Kill a Mockingbird, or the hilarious gathering of empty-headed matrons at the tea party in Go Set a Watchman.

  When my mother died, Nelle comforted me. As a Christian realist, she never attempted to portray life as easier than it was. Whether in her own life or mine, pain, tragedy, and suffering were exactly what they seemed. They could be borne, as she proved for the rest of her life, but never trivialized as “God’s will” or seen as a burden too great to bear. Although her letter does not refer to C. S. Lewis’s brilliant book A Grief Observed, she read Lewis voraciously, and her letter resonates with his wisdom.

  Wednesday

  24 Oct.

  Hey kids:

  After calling the wrong no. & leaving 3 messages, Sara Ann Curry [the remarried widow of Nelle’s beloved brother, air force major Edwin C. Lee] supplied me with (I hope) the correct one.