Retired nurse/wife saved a life, by George

When the University of Georgia won the college football national championship, lots of fans, with good reason, figured it was time to bust out some dance moves.

Certainly, there were some who danced and thought their talents would stir up memories of Paula Abdul in her Laker Girl heyday.

But what if it came time to celebrate and there was no getting out of neutral?

What if you went to bed and took up more than your share of the Serta and refused to relinquish the covers to the woman you’ve been married to for 35 years, no matter how much she pleaded?

Being stubborn or contrary was never part of the equation.

On that January night, George Meisner simply couldn’t move.

Realizing there was no joviality coming from George, when he said he couldn’t move, Cynthia, a retired nurse, went back to work.

She unretired in those critical moments and it probably saved George’s life.

George was being typically manly in his insistence on Cynthia not calling 911. He wanted her to drive him to Northside Forsyth.

“There was no way. I couldn’t lift him,” Cynthia recalled.

George was dead weight, and if Cynthia hadn’t recognized what was happening with George, he might have been just plain dead.

George was having a whopper of a stroke, and 20 minutes after everything began, he was being treated in the Northside ER.

The Forsyth doctors were wise enough to know that George needed a little something extra.

George was transported via helicopter across north Georgia to Kennestone Hospital, where he was treated by a team better equipped to get George out of this crisis.

And that was what happened!

There’s still a laundry list chock-full of items that need to tended to. Maybe a ramp or two to be built by his sons.

George figures he can supervise any project. Doing things for others fits squarely in his wheelhouse.

In years past, my son Greg and Will were classmates and teammates on the Forsyth Central baseball team.

As Bulldog Booster Club president, there was a gargantuan checklist of “to-do” items that stretched for miles. One glaring necessity was more seating capacity, figuring a “Field of Dreams” scenario: “If you build it, they will come.”

The existing rickety bleachers just wouldn’t do. So naturally, we went large and bought a pair of sizable grandstands. They were going to be beautiful.

Except for the fact that the grandstands arrived in dozens of boxes that contained thousands of widgets, screws, gromets and enough assorted materials to fill a Home Depot.

As someone who breaks out in a cold sweat if ever forced to buy anything other than a flashlight at Home Depot, I needed some help.

As you probably surmised, George, have tool belt will travel, put together a crew that assembled the bleachers and fashioned a place where Central baseball fans could show off the new digs.

But that’s not all. All those fans needed to be fed.

Cynthia being a mom with ravenous teenagers, took over the concession stand. No, she didn’t sell bags of peanuts. Instead, she used her wiles as a shopper to stock quality food.

Burgers, bratwurst and hot dogs sold like hot cakes. Any clue as to who was in charge of the grill and did way more than his fair share of cooking? George manned the grill like he owned the place.

I’m not sure what George and and Lloyd families were also living in DeWald’s Alley in 1950.

Cynthia need right now. Prayers sure couldn’t hurt. Getting Cynthia to ask for help is like getting one of King Arthur’s friends to ask a friend to pull a sword out of a rock.

The Meisners are neighbors, and George’s adventures wouldn’t have been known if Cindy hadn’t shared the story on social media.

Thank you, Facebook.

George is at home now, with lots of therapy ahead of him. At one time, he was able to put together a crackerjack crew to build grandstands. Now there is another project on the horizon. Here’s hoping those friends will come through again.

If that happens, no way I’ll be building anything. It would be a disaster.

But count on me to go buy the coffee and donuts.

Mike Tasos has lived in Forsyth County for more than 30 years. He’s an American by birth and considers himself a Southerner by the grace of God. He can be reached at miketasos55@gmail.com.

Continued from Page 24 store.

The family of Jessie and Grace Pruitt are recorded on the census, with Jessie working at a steel plant and Grace working as a house cleaner. The Austin family included William and Marilyn. William worked as a cook at a college, most likely Oglethorpe University. The Moon, Jones, Heard,

Melvin Pender recalls that his parents moved from Dalton, Georgia, to his grandparents’ Sandy Springs home temporarily in 1937 in anticipation of his birth. He was born Oct. 31 at a segregated Grady Hospital. Pender went on to become a captain in the 82nd Airborne, serving two tours during the Vietnam War. He also represented the U.S. in the 1964 and 1968 Olympics, winning a Gold Medal in 1968 for the 4 x100 relay. (“Expression of Hope: the Mel Pender Story,” by Melvin and Deborah Pender)

Captain Pender moved into the home of his grandparents in 1949. They had moved to Lynwood Park in Brookhaven. According to “Stories of Lynwood Park” by Veronica Menenez Holmes, some residents of DeWald’s Alley, including Pender’s grandparents, relocated to Lynwood Park. Pender’s mother helped bring a church from the Sandy Springs community to Lynwood Park. That church was Mt. Mary Baptist Church. Riding along Barfield Road today, one would never know that the community of DeWald’s Alley existed. The people who lived there and their efforts in difficult times to provide for their families should be remembered.

Award-winning author Valerie Biggerstaff is a longtime columnist for Appen Media. She lives in Sandy Springs. You can email Valerie at pasttensega@gmail.com or visit her website at pasttensega.com.

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