Brookhaven Magazine March/April 2018 edition

BROOKHAVEN A history of giving

MAGAZINE

KREWE OF CERES SPREADS THE CHARITY

DR. SESSUMS REMEMBERS THE IMPACT OF BILL Y GRAHAM MARCH/APRIL. 2018

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COMPLIMENTARY COPY

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FIRST HOME SAVINGS for First-Time Homebuyers

First Home Savings1

% 3.05APY

2

PLUS

$1,000 Lender Credit Toward Closing Costs on your first home3

First Bank, Š2018 First Bank, Inc. All rights reserved.

Member FDIC

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First Bank’s First Home Savings Account is an account open only to Mississippians who have never purchased or owned a home in MS or any other state. Money deposited in the account earns interest free from state income tax and is deductible from state income in 2018 (up to $2,500 per year for individuals or $5,000 for couples; however, there is no limit to annual deposit amounts). Funds can be used for a variety of things including: down payment, appraisal fee, title fees or other home purchase related expenses; however, unqualified use of funds is penalized ten percent. Individual account holders are responsible for all reporting on their tax return. See www.FirstHomeMS.org for full details. Limit one First Home Savings Account per individual.

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Annual Percentage Yield is accurate as of 1/1/2018. Both applicable tiers currently pay the same rate, but are subject to change after account opening at any time. APY quoted assumes funds remain on deposit for at least 365 days. Be sure to enroll in eStatements as paper statement fees or other fees could reduce earnings.

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$1,000.00 Lender Credit toward closing costs applies to First Bank Secondary Mortgage Loan Originations and only those individuals who open and maintain a First Bank First Home Savings Account until the home purchase loan is closed. All loans subject to credit approval. Offer subject to change at any time. First Bank in-house financing not eligible for lender credit.

BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 3

“My brother and I operate a poultry, beef, and row crop farm. Our family farm trusts the family-owned business of Farmbelt Equipment to provide us with quality equipment and exceptional service.” - Scott Smith, Peeps Poultry, Brett Smith, Particular Poultry and SmithLake Farms.

87 Hwy. 84 East Brookhaven, MS 601-833-3501 www.FarmbeltEquipment.com

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Shopping locally not only helps business owners but also boosts the local economy, creating more opportunities right where you live, work, and play.

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serving LINCOLN/COPIAH/FRANKLIN/LAWRENCE COUNTIES

MARCH/APRIL. 2018

BROOKHAVEN

MAGAZINE

BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 1

FEATURES

SHOP

FOOD & TRAVEL

10 What’s in a name?

How do you pronounce ‘Brookhaven’?

30 Leap into spring

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A day on the river, sort of

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A visit to Granny’s Corner in McCall Creek

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Just here for a visit: Billy Graham: 1918-2018

HOME 22

Store helps women get their ‘vibe’ back

THE REST Personal touch: A young couple’s hands-on approach turns a house into a home

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26

A tradition of generosity for Krewe of Ceres

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This spring demonstrates advantages of loropetalum

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Taking a little time to read: Book reviews from staff

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Photo essays

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Social scenes

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BROOKHAVEN serving LINCOLN/COPIAH/FRANKLIN/LAWRENCE COUNTIES

MAGAZINE

MARCH/APRIL 2018 PUBLISHER Luke Horton EDITORIAL Donna Campbell

BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 1

Brett Campbell Adam Northam Trapper Kinchen CONTRIBUTING:

APRIL 4-8 • 2018

Bill Perkins JoAnna Sproles ADVERTISING Kristi Carney

WWW.LINCOLNCIVICCENTER.COM

GRAPHICS

Wednesday Night - Youth Night

Michael Granger

Sponsored by Reed’s Metals Rides, Games & Food 4:30-9:30pm with $15 Armbands

Thursday Night Sponsored by King’s Daughters Medical Center Ride, Games & Food 4:30-10pm $20 Arm Bands

Friday Night Sponsored by Farm Bureau of Lincoln County “FARMtastic” Day at the Farm

BROOKHAVEN Magazine is produced and published by The Daily Leader, 128 N. Railroad Ave., Brookhaven, MS 39601. The magazine is published six times a year. For additional information on this issue or other publications or for copies, call 601-833-6961. To inquire about story content, email donna.campbell@dailyleader.com, or to inquire about advertising, email advertising@dailyleader.com.

Copyright 2018 © The Daily Leader

Rides, Games & Food 4:30-10:30pm - $25 Armbands

Saturday Sponsored by Farmbelt Equipment Inc. 15 Armbands Special Pricing from 1pm-4pm in honor of Military & Special Service Members

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Springfest Beauty Pageant 11am Rides, Games & Food 4pm-10:30pm - $25 Armbands

Sunday FREE PARKING PROVIDED BY

Trustmark Magnolia Electric Valvoline of Brookhaven Verbalee Watts & Associates J & B Tile J.L. Barnett Trucking J. Allan’s

Sponsored by Brookhaven Honda Rides, Games & Food 1-8pm - $15 Armbands

Engraveables Expectations IRM WGK Engineering Car City Auto Sales Porter’s Body Shop

Local Food Alley Sponsored by the Brookhaven Tourism Council

Rides/Games and some of the food provided by: Mitchell Brothers

On the cover: Queen Anna Louise Gardner and King Judson Davis Langston Jr., 2018 royalty for the Krewe of Cere’s 51st annual charity ball

Courtesy of Johnny Smith Photography

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ole brook MARCH/APRIL 18

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WHAT’S IN A NAME I

HOW DO YOU PRONOUNCE ‘BROOKHAVEN’?

n his play Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare’s love-struck hero famously queries, “Would a rose by any other name smell as sweet?” His question is, of course, rhetorical, but it bears consideration. How much does a name really affect one’s perception of a thing?

Brookhaven, Mississippi, is one of several municipalities of the same name in North America. Brookhaven, Georgia, rests at on the crest of the Atlanta metropolis; Brookhaven, Pennsylvania, sits in the dappled countryside near New Jersey and Brookhaven-Amesbury is a popular enclave in Toronto, Canada. But Lincoln County’s judicial seat is special among them.

One of the city’s greatest quirks is the way in which its name is annunciated.

While out-of-towners pronounce Brookhaven as two separate and distinct words — i.e. “Brook-Haven” — locals usually meld it into a single lilting rumble — “Bruh-cave-in.” The source of that unique pronunciation is a mystery, and, when you ask Brookhavenites about their elocutionary proclivities, their usual reply is, “That’s just the way we say it.” But, no matter the cause, the unusual accent helps distinguish Mississippi’s Brookhaven from her northerly sisters.

According to local lore, Samuel Jayne founded the town in 1819, naming it after his native Brookhaven, New York. No one knows where the name “Brookhaven” originates, but it is commonly believed to be an Anglicized spelling of a Dutch colonial word — in the same fashion as Brooklyn or Harlem.

Tammie Brewer of the Lincoln County Historical and Genealogical Society believes Jayne’s original settlement was located at the end of present-day First Street on the Bogue Chitto River. She said a historical marker stands near the site of the city’s founding.

However, when the Illinois-Central Railroad laid tracks from Chicago to New Orleans in the 1850s, Brookhaven slowly migrated from the river to its present location. In pursuit of economic development, townsfolk erected businesses and homes around the railway depot, and, before long, a new city emerged. But not all of Brookhaven’s original settlers relocated.

Some people decided to remain on the Bogue Chitto, but their little community continued to dwindle over time. So, after awhile, locals renamed the original settlement “Ole Brook” in order to distinguish it from the new city. Before long, Ole Brook became the unofficial name of both the old and new neighborhoods, uniting the town into a single community.

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That being said, it wasn’t until the 20th century that Ole Brook became completely synonymous with Brookhaven. The nickname reached a new level of popularity in 1938, when Brookhaven High School’s senior class christened their yearbook “The Ole Brook.” Since then, the two names have been virtually interchangeable in the local lexicon.

Brookhaven is also known as a “Home Seekers Paradise,” which is famously soldered into the massive sign in the center of downtown. The slogan is the direct result of a contest sponsored during the Edwardian Period by some of the city’s most prominent business people. Locals submitted a series of suggestions, and the winning motto was chosen around the start of World War I.

Story and photos by Trapper Kinchen BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 11

According to research compiled by Brewer, the sign over West Cherokee Street has an interesting and not altogether forthright history. In the early 1940s, at the start of the Second World War, it was widely suggested that the sign be dismantled and its iron donated to the war effort. In response to public sentiment, city officials removed the sign.

But no one knows if the metalwork was melted down to build bombers or left to rust at the city dump.

In the mid-90s, several area industrialists came together and had the sign replicated. James Minter of B&O Welding oversaw the project, and his team worked hard to create an exact replica of the original marquis. His handwork still hovers over West Cherokee Street, a winsome reminder of Brookhaven’s colorful past.

Time changes many things, and history marches forward like a lumbering juggernaut. But through all the upheavals and resettlements of temporal change, some things remain steady. Like many of the world’s little wonders, Brookhaven stands, in both name and spirit, as a testament to the beauty of progress and the importance of tradition.

No matter what the future holds in store, one thing is certain — Ole Brook, like the words of Shakespeare, will live on in the minds and hearts of many. BM Can you identify the location of the Brookhaven signs featured here?

1. Outside of building at South Jackson Street and West Cherokee Street; 2: Old Train Depot; 3: South Whitworth Avenue and West Chickasaw; 4: front of Margaret Lampton Auditorium; 5: West Cherokee Street on west end of Mississippi School of the Arts campus; 6: The Haven; 7: West Cherokee Street and South Whitworth Avenue

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travel MARCH/APRIL 18

A DAY ON THE RIVER, SORT OF 14 BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

Story by Brett Campbell Photos by Brett Campbell and Brad Campbell

Vicksburg’s history and food call for one-day visits

W

e’ve all probably passed through Vicksburg on the way to some greater destination. Some of us might even be regulars in the city. But how well do you know Vicksburg? Specifically, how well do you know its history — and its food?

The Vicksburg National Military Park is the most popular, highest-rated destination for out-of-towners, according to the staff at the Vicksburg Tourism office. It captures the history of the Civil War better than a room full of books.

The one-way route through the park is 16 miles long, with markers and items of interest spread across a large part of the trail. Members of park staff recommend visitors plan to spend at least three hours in the park for the full experience.

Over 1,000 markers and monuments are on display along the route through the park, but the first to honor an African American — three, to be exact — was the THE CITY IS installation of a bronze ACTUALLY ON sculpture by Brookhaven doctor Kim Sessums.

THE YAZOO The 16-foot tall sculpture entitled “The Vicksburg RIVER Campaign” depicts DIVERSION two men, one a soldier, supporting another CANAL, NOT wounded soldier as he makes his way from the THE RIVER. battlefield. Visitors to the Lincoln County Public Library in Brookhaven can see a 2-foot tall maquette of the sculpture.

While visiting the park, tourists can see the gunboat U.S.S. Cairo, one of seven “ironclads” — iron and wood boats developed for service on major rivers during the Civil War. The original ship is on display at the park, despite having been sunk by one of the world’s first torpedoes.

Another highly-recommended point of interest is the Jesse Brent Lower Mississippi River Museum, located on Washington Street. Home to Motor Vessel Mississippi IV — the largest diesel towboat on the Mississippi River until its decommissioning in 1993 — the museum offers a glimpse into daily life on a river boat and a look at the history of the lower Mississippi River.

Other historical attractions include the Old Court House Museum, the Biedenharn CocaCola Museum, the Old Depot Museum, the Jacqueline House Museum and Yesterday’s Children Antique Doll & Toy Museum.

Opposite page: A display within the Jesse Brent Lower Mississippi River Museum shows a section of the city along the river in 1894.

At top: The Michigan State Memorial is one of the more prominent of the 1,400 monuments, tablets and markers in Vicksburg National Military Park. Above: The main Civil War battlefield at Vicksburg was once surrounded by 170 cannon.

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A river boat makes its way down the Yazoo separating Mississippi from Louisiana, toward the waters of the Mighty Mississippi.

The Old Court House Museum bills itself as “Vicksburg’s most historic structure,” and houses such unique artifacts as the tie worn by Jefferson Davis at his Confederate presidency inauguration and a teddy bear given to a child by Theodore Roosevelt.

Davis, Ulysses S. Grant and Booker T. Washington are a few of the guests hosted by this historic site.

The Old Depot Museum is home to several scale models of automotive, railroad and river transportation used throughout the history of the city. The museum also houses all the exhibits from the old Vicksburg Battlefield Museum.

Visiting the historical sites around the grand city will work up an appetite.

In addition to the typical fast food and sit-down restaurants one finds in the average Southern city, Vicksburg is home to such fare as Billy’s Italian Restaurant — located in the Outlets at Vicksburg, so convenient to shoppers, 16 BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

and specializing in New York-style pizza, pasta and po-boys; the Main Street Market Café, on the corner of Main and Cherry streets, which can be overlooked if you’re not careful; and 10 South Rooftop Bar & Grill.

10 South is located on Washington Street, atop the First National Building.

The friendly wait staff get diners situated quickly and deliver whatever tasty options you pick from their menu.

The fried green tomatoes with spicy crawfish-tomato gravy, followed by a dessert of Moon Pie Bread Pudding with a Coca-Cola rum glaze, are just the sort of meal to satisfy a unique craving and set the diner up for a vigorous walk around downtown or a nice nap.

Before ending your one-day excursion to this river city, swing by Cedar Hill Cemetery on Lindsey Street, to see a rather unusual sight. The cemetery is home to approximately 5,000 grave markers for Confederate soldiers in its Soldier’s Rest section, including one that

bears no last name. It is for “Douglas.” “‘Old Douglas’ was the ‘faithful, patient’ camel of the 43rd MS Infantry Vols. CSA,” the grave marker reads. The remainder of the inscription found below an etched Rebel flag and portrait of a single-humped camel describes Douglas as “a dromedary camel … given to Col. W.H. Moore by Lt. W.H. Hargrove of Co. B.” The camel reportedly carried instruments and knapsacks for a regimental band in the Battle of Iuka and the Battle of Corinth. Douglas was felled by a Union sharpshooter on June 27, 1863, during the siege of Vicksburg.

His tombstone stands among those of his fallen human compatriots.

Remember to check the weather forecast when planning a day trip. Know the operating hours of the attractions, museums, stores or restaurants you intend to visit. Be aware of entrance fees and take the time to look online or call ahead for discounts and specials or to make dining reservations. BM

Photographed from 10 South Rooftop Bar & Grill atop the First National Building, Washington Street — Business Hwy. 61 — stretches for a few miles along the Yazoo canal. Sites such as the Old Depot Museum, the Biedenharn Coca-Cola Museum and the Vicksburg Riverfront Murals are all located along Washington Street or nearby.

BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 17

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Send Us Your Photos!

Brookhaven Magazine welcomes contributions of event photos. They will be subject to editorial approval and availability of space. Minimum of five photos per event.

Criteria for picture submission: A brief description of the event and first and last names of everyone in the photo that can clearly be identified from left to right, 300 dpi resolution minimum, and a contact name plus phone number should questions arise.

Photos can be e-mailed to: editor@dailyleader.com or mailed to: Editor, The Daily Leader • P.O. Box 550 • Brookhaven, MS 39601 OR dropped off at the front desk at 128 North Railroad Ave., Brookhaven BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 19

in memory MARCH/APRIL 18

JUST HERE FOR A VISIT BILLY GRAHAM: 1918-2018

I

By J. Kim Sessums

squatted down to get another shot from beneath his chin because I needed views from all angles. Above, behind, from the side, and from down below. It was a bit like a view up to the masterpiece sculpture of David from the floor of the Academy in Florence.

Michaelangelo had sculpted his interpretation of a man after God’s own heart in the first four years of the 16th Century. I was attempting to do the same, but, along with every other way that my work is unlike the Italian genius, I had my man right in front of me. The real deal. Another man after God’s own heart.

Not a king or a slayer of giants or an adulterer, but, like David, just another man, human, believing not just in what is seen, but what is unseen. And it was 1996. March. On Black Mountain near Montreat, North Carolina.

Forming a head in clay is not like drawing one on paper. On paper, only one angle is seen while the rest are only suggested. But to push the clay into shapes and squeeze the form of a nose or a jaw line means that all the angles can and will be seen.

In his case, the bold angles would not be mistaken – he had large masses of flesh. Distinct. His was a face known the world over. As the shutter clicked, I felt a strange furry mass rub against my back and it almost tipped me over onto my face since my hands were balancing my 20-year-old Canon AT-1 and not my 40-year-old upper torso. Reaching down to steady my squat, I looked back over my shoulder. Could it really be a wolf?

Then I had visions of a bear. I was in the North Carolina mountains. But the man after God’s own heart had not appeared alarmed. That’s when I realized it was a

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dog. It was a very big dog.

“A real German Shepuhd,” I heard the chin say on that cool March morning.

“He just seems tame. He’s really a trained killa’ who could tear your throat out on command. We had to get guard dogs and increase security back in the ‘60s when things got a bit tense; death threats and all. Especially after Dr. King’s death. That’s when they said we needed a fence.”

I was squatting at a precise moment in history. Very distinct. The man had spoken to 160 million people in just about every country on the globe. It seemed like yesterday that I was listening to the same big voice, only 34 years younger (the voice and me), and from the living room of the house where God had dropped me off after my daddy was crushed in a baby blue Volkswagon Bug. A neighbor was overheard declaring that Bug was like a tin can on wheels. And who travels in a baby blue Volkswagon

to buy Black Angus cows anyway?

My daddy did and he died and it broke his young wife’s heart and she died.

Right after JFK rode down that Dallas street for the last time, there in front of the Book Depository with Jackie trying to crawl out the back. That’s the year my mother died. Time was marked. I was 6.

I remember. I can also remember sitting on an orange plastic sleeper sofa with that voice speaking through the TV box.

My grandmother heard the same thing I did. “You come now. Don’t wait. You, up in the top sections, you come. Your friends and family will wait. We will pray with you and give you some lit-tratoor. Come now.” * * * * * In 1958, Billy Graham fathered a fifth child, Ned. The team was preparing for the Australia and New Zealand meetings that would prove to be the longest series of meetings he ever held outside the United States.

I was born that same year and I remember being aware of him when I was a kid; large crowds, a song by a man named Beverly (somebody gave a boy that name), and more verses of “Just As I Am” than necessary; certainly more than I could remember and all of them more than I could comprehend at the time.

I could be found stretched out on the pew next to my grandmother where I pointed up to the long pine planks sandwiched together forming the open vaulted V-shaped sanctuary ceiling of a tiny rural Methodist Church in Mississippi. I counted them every week. Forty-seven on one side, 48 on the other. Every week I counted just to make sure as I heard the sounds of the words bounce off the planks.

Every couple of months they served crumbled up saltines and grape juice. The bread of life. Feed me ‘til I want no more. The taste was different coming from that gold plate though; better than saltines from the box that I crumbled into my tomato soup. But the church crumbled cracker bread of life meant something. A deeper meaning.

But for me it meant that the end was near. Fortyfive, 46, 47, 48. And then Sunday dinner. * * * * * I found Billy Graham to be a big man in all ways; body, head, hands, and heart. To be life-size, this bust would need a larger armature, more clay than any of my previous works.

Eudora Welty had that hump on her back and Andrew Wyeth had the turtle neck. But this challenge was about more than the clay. Who would even try to capture this fella? Nobody would be satisfied. You tried to do a portrait of who? What were you thinking? We will pray for you.

Before attempting any portrait bust, a good understanding of the person is necessary — who they are, what they like and dislike, how they sound, how they move. Research. I did not grow up with Billy Graham around the house though he did visit once a year from that TV box, usually around the same time Dorothy found the Munchkins. But that had been years — a distant memory. On that cool March morning, I stood there with him on his mountain property. I had known of him my whole life but I had only been studying him for a year. The sculpture bust had taken its form from photos and videos. Now it was personal. * * * * * Billy Graham was born Nov. 7, 1918. Frank and Morrow worked a North Carolina dairy farm, a labor that involved much more than cows — there is the fencing, feeding, calves and milking. It was an environment of discipline and hard work. He first heard the message when he was 14.

Opposite page: Kim Sessums and his daughter, Joey, visit with Billy and Ruth Graham in 1999.

At top: Sessums and the Grahams discuss the bronze bust the Brookhaven artist created.

Above: Billy Graham sits in front of his bronze bust.

STORY CONTINUES ON PAGE 56

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home MARCH/APRIL 18

PERSONAL TOUCH Young couple’s hands-on approach turns house into a home

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Story & photos by Kim Henderson

ew construction comes with its challenges. For a family, one of the main ones is turning a freshlyfinished, carefully-planned-for house into a home.

Brookhaven residents Colby and Misty McMorris faced that task in 2014 when move-in day finally arrived after a twoyear stretch of planning and building.

With Baby No. 4 on the way, they were more than ready to get settled in their new 3,000-square-foot rambler. Still, decorating an interior from scratch was daunting. Together the former high school sweethearts went to work, turning their new space into a stylish, kid-friendly dwelling all their own.

From the outside, the McMorris residence bears all the marks of a traditional Southern charmer, with its classic brick, shuttered windows, and formal landscaping. Once inside, however, visitors quickly sense another vibe – a “polished farmhouse” bent, strong on distressed furnishings and upscale accessories.

“We wanted an open, welcoming space with a country feel,” says Misty.

She and Colby found a plan they liked online, then had it tweaked to include five bedrooms, three baths, and fewer walls in the main living area. That central open area – hosting the entry, kitchen, dining and family room – provided the biggest decorating challenge.

While popular with homebuilders these days, large, open spaces can feel unstructured, and can make the “cozy” feeling desired by homeowners hard to come by. To get the best of both worlds, the McMorrises chose to go for visuallydistinct zones in their open area. Rugs, a wood-burning fireplace, and furniture groupings define the dining and family spots, while a 20-foot island has enough heft to anchor the kitchen. Exposed beams and shiny scored concrete round out the perimeters. Steady pops of turquoise, mustard and red keep things coordinated.

In 2015, the family extended their living space to include covered dining options outdoors. They also built a fenced, in-ground pool and a custom play yard that has proven to be a hot spot for the children.

Above: Local craftsman Emile Genarro designed and built the pine farm table used in the dining area.

Opposite page: Colby and Misty McMorris stand with their children —Aaden, Eliza, Harlee and Selah — on their front porch.

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Inset, and opposite top right: Misty has a new-found interest in chickens, gardening, and canning.

Her greenhouse extends the growing season for her favorite herbs, and a hatch door on the chicken coop nesting box allows eggs to be collected easily.

Now that they have the space for necessary tools, Colby and Misty have learned to enjoy some new activities as well. Colby hand-made many of their home’s furnishings, and his work can be seen in an entry piece, island trim and the master suite’s bedframe.

“I really like making things for Misty,” he says. As Colby finishes projects, Misty takes charge of painting and distressing them. The couple’s son, Aaden, joined in a special construction effort: building a greenhouse for Misty, who wanted to 24 BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

Opposite top: A wood-burning fireplace, centrally located in the main living area of the home, gets steady use during the cool months of the year.

Opposite bottom: This nook provides a cozy space for the family to gather for early-morning breakfasts.

extend the growing season for some of her favorite herbs.

The couple agrees that the best part of living in their new home has been its proximity to Colby’s work at Riverwood.

“We homeschool, so Colby can have lunch with us most days,” Misty explains. “Because he sometimes works long and odd hours, those extra few moments we get together have been a blessing.”

Living in the country has also enabled the family to develop an interest in

gardening and poultry production.

Canned vegetables and pickles line the shelves of a cabinet Colby built for easy access on a kitchen wall. Each morning, the kids gather eggs from their flock of nine hens. They are in the process of installing two bee hives on their property.

“We’re thankful to God for planting us right where He did. We now see the huge benefits of being able to hunt, fish, and gather from the land He provided,” she said. BM

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history MARCH/APRIL 18

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A TRADITION OF

GENEROSITY L

Story by JoAnna Sproles Photos by Johnny Smith

asting the course of 51 years, the Krewe of Ceres and its members have poured countless hours and efforts into the mission of propelling local charities toward future success.

The Krewe has supported and nurtured dozens of various charitable causes in Brookhaven — all resulting from one night, its annual charity ball. The charitable donations are staggering, totaling about $15,000 every year.

Money is raised from ticket sales for the themed, formal/ semi-formal event. Over the years, the amount totals close to $260,000. The members join the organization by invitation, but anyone and everyone can attend the ball.

In addition to the obvious goal of raising money for local charities, the ball is also used as a night to recognize college-aged young women as maids and gentlemen as escorts to showcase their academic and community accomplishments.

Current Krewe President Robin Patterson said the ball highlights fifth-graders, college sophomores and the queen, who is a college senior. The king is selected as well, who is a mature, well-known contributor to the surrounding community.

“The ball is two-fold in that it helps us raise money for local charities and it is a way of recognizing young adults for their academic excellence and their community involvement,” Patterson said. “We have a court of 10 maids and escorts that are in that category of academic excellence and community involvement.”

Patterson described the queen as a young woman who has continued to succeed in school and community service.

As she is presented, the queen is recognized for being outstanding in both of these areas.

“The ball is the one event we host each year and after 51 years, it is still a successful night,” Patterson said. “We are all very proud of its accomplishments.”

Secretary Erin Smith has been involved in the Krewe since 2012. She describes the efforts of the Krewe as ambitious and accomplished, year after year.

“The Krewe makes numerous donations to local charities to support their mission of service. The ball is a fun event where you can enjoy a good meal and live music. It is intended to celebrate and recognize local college students’ academic and civic efforts,” she said.

Carrie Sones, 2018 charity ball chairwoman, estimates that about 500 people attend the ball. A committee within the Krewe works an entire week to decorate for the catered event.

BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 27

Tables, place settings, centerpieces, a focal point chandelier and two stages are constructed around a chosen theme to create a night of entertainment for members and guests.

The ball starts with the court presentation to honor college students, the queen, the king and their trainbearers, who are selected fifth-grade boys and girls. After the court presentation concludes, the buffet dinner begins and a live band provides music.

After dinner, attendees begin to gather on the dance floor. The ball concludes at midnight.

Last year’s king, Bill Jacobs, has been an official member of the Krewe since the early 1980s. But his familiarity with the organization goes back to 1967 when his father, Charles Jacobs, was chosen to be king.

Jacobs and his brothers served as escorts during their college years.

Decades later, his daughters, Ann Kirk and Meredith, were trainbearers as well as maids. Finally, Ann Kirk was selected to be queen in 2009.

“Over the years the Krewe of Ceres through the charity ball has been instrumental in giving back to Brookhaven and Lincoln County. But its most important function, in my view, is the opportunity it brings to recognize the success and achievements of so many college-age young adults in the community,” Jacobs said. “Then too, to see the bright eyes and smiles of the preteen aides as they absorb the pomp and circumstance of the night. It is a great weekend party and a great time to catch up with old friends and neighbors.”

Jacobs said one of the fundamentally special features of Brookhaven is the charitable spirit of its community.

“One of the secrets of success of our community is the willingness of so many to go the extra mile to make Brookhaven and Lincoln County special,” he said .

“It is the efforts and hard work by Krewe members today, as well as the past 51 years, that helps build on the success of the community we call the Home Seekers Paradise.”

Jacobs said the early organizers of the event truly had a deep love for Brookhaven and wanted to see it thrive.

“My hat is off to Enoch Case and David Lovell and so many others who worked those early years and laid the foundation of what we have today,” he said. BM

28 BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

Photos by Johnny Smith

Page 26: Queen Anna Louise Gardner and King Judson Davis Langston Jr. and their royal court prepare for the 51st Krewe of Ceres Charity Ball, which was held Feb. 24 at the Lincoln Civic Center. Page 27: At left, Queen Anne Kirkpatrick Jacobs and King Les Bumgarner rule over the ball in 2009. Center, King Joe Brewer appears at the 2008. At right, Queen Claire Cox Strong poses with her family, Joe and Angie Cox and brother, Wade Cox at the 2008 charity ball. At top: Linda Moak, left, and Sally Hampton assist Queen Ann Christilles Moak get ready for the 2010 charity ball. Above: King Bill Jacobs takes a group selfie with Queen Andrey Montalvo and several of her friends at the 2017 charity ball.

THE BEST IN LOCAL NEWS, SPORTS AND OPINION IS AT YOUR FINGERTIPS. IN PRINT & ONLINE. BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 29

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STORE HELPS WOMEN GET THEIR ‘VIBE’ BACK

32 BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

Clothing store brings ‘classy and comfortable’ to Brookhaven and beyond

T

Story & photos by Trapper Kinchen

he space between artistry and enterprise is wafer-thin, but the two seldom twain. One usually exists without the other. But, on the rare occasion when they collide, they strike an impressive economic chord.

Through decades of determination and diligence, Susan May and her daughter, Heather Thompson, have managed to shape a business that is both productive and beautiful. May founded Susan’s Shoppe on West Monticello Street 23 years ago, and, before she made her first sale, she decided to hold herself to a high standard of service.

Since its inception, Susan’s Shoppe has been famous for its striking selection of formalwear. Women from across the Southeast have come to the store in search of gowns and embellishments for proms, formals and pageants. But, last July, May and Thompson made a bold alteration to their business model, and the result has been astounding.

Thompson is an artist, and she has a keen eye for style. With a strong background in creative design, she decided to put her talents to good practical use.

She conferred with her mother, conducted a staggering amount of market research and, after some serious thought and prayer, started her own fashion line — Vibe Clothing Company.

Thompson is a 35-year-old mother of four, and Vibe has become her favorite outlet for self-expression.

But balancing a healthy personal and professional life requires a great deal of effort. Between running a boisterous household, managing the Susan’s Shoppe in the Hattiesburg location and running her clothing line, she has become an incredibly busy woman.

“I usually say that I work triple full-time,” she said.

She decided to create Vibe after noticing a heavy gap in the American clothing market. Thompson felt like designers and retailers were intentionally overlooking a key demographic: women aged 35-65. So, she rushed to fill the void.

“When I would go shopping, I would feel really disappointed,” she said. “I’m not at an age where I want to wear crop tops.”

She often left stores empty handed, unable to find clothes that properly represented her personality. After several conversations with her friends, Thompson realized there were too few clothing options in a reasonable price range for adult women. She said most stores catering to “grown ups” were either overly expensive or outdated.

Opposite page: Susan May adds blouses to a rack of clothes at Susan’s Shoppe in Brookhaven. The assortment is part of the Vibe Clothing Company line created by her daughter, Heather Thompson. At right, pieces from the collection.

BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 33

“I was looking for something classy and comfortable, but everything seemed to go from juniors clothes to frumpy,” she said.

Thompson knows a great deal about the relationship between form and function in clothing. As a sixthgeneration seamstress, she is the practitioner of what she calls “a dying art.” Her eye for measurements and proportions is practically unparalleled in her generation, and she believes her attention to detail makes her a successful businesswoman.

Vibe is designed to fit women of all shapes and sizes. Thompson is especially fond of longer-cut silhouettes designed to accentuate the curves of the female form.

That being said, she does not consider Vibe a “plus size” brand.

As a former Mrs. Mississippi and model, Thompson understands what it means to strive for perfection. But she also believes in body positivity, and she wants her customers to enjoy wearing her label no matter their dimensions.

She said since Vibe’s initial launch, women of all ages and sizes have thanked her for designing clothes that make them feel beautiful.

“We’ve had a phenomenal response,” she said.

When Thompson chooses clothing for her label, she focuses on flattering styles. She also takes what women typically dislike about their bodies into consideration. Vibe is devoted to highlighting natural beauty while simultaneously detracting from socalled “problem areas.”

“For example, with Vibe, you won’t see a cap sleeve, because it shows too much of the arm,” she said.

To keep Vibe as cost effective as possible, Thompson collaborates with other designers to build her seasonal lines. She starts by sorting through colors and subsequently builds merchandise around whatever catches her eye. After roughly 23 years in the fashion industry, if something jumps out at her, she can “pretty well

34 BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

guarantee” it will sell.

While Thompson is the artistic force behind Vibe, May is the company’s marketing maven. Among other things, she coordinates high-end photo shoots and filming sessions that show her daughter’s clothes to full advantage.

May’s ultimate goal is to reach as wide an audience as possible.

Since its initial launch, Vibe has been incredibly well received.

Between May’s marketing strategy and Thompson’s knack for trend setting, the company has developed an international presence. Thompson has

even tracked sales as far away as California and Canada.

Even though her clothes sell throughout Western Hemisphere, Thompson stocks her line with the kinds of lightweight fabrics best suited for the subtropical climate of the American South. She is especially fond of soft-to-the-touch, flowing material. She said women — no matter where they live — want to feel relaxed in the clothes they wear.

Thompson and May have worked hard to develop a sturdy online presence. They host a retail website called www.VIBEClothingCompany. com, where customers can browse their inventory from anywhere in the world, and they also have a popular Facebook group entitled “Vibe Tribe – First Looks.”

Members of the Vibe Tribe gain access to Thompson’s fashion blog and a series of insightful how-to videos. She takes a holistic approach to beauty and encourages women to develop a style with which they feel totally in sync.

She said her general mission is to show women how to get their “vibe back.”

When the company gets a new makeup product, Thompson typically holds live tutorials on Facebook.

She shows her followers how to use the shop’s cosmetics and build a corresponding wardrobe. Thompson outlines step-by-step, easy to follow beauty methods, and ladies tuning into her broadcasts are able to ask live questions.

Thompson mostly wants women to care about what they put on their bodies, and she believes every woman, regardless of her age, deserves to have a unique fashion identity. Her brand includes shoes, ensembles, jewelry and much more.

Anything ordered on the Vibe website can be shipped to Susan’s Shoppe in the Brookhaven and Hattiesburg locations. For ordering information call 601-261-5683, and call 601-833-9333 to speak to a customer service representative. Or stop by Susan’s Shoppe and browse Thompson’s merchandise in person. BM

books MARCH/APRIL 18

“Retribution: The Battle for Japan, 1944-45”

by Sir Max Hastings I was in college before I really became a reader.

I made the decision while standing at the counter of the campus bookstore at Alabama. I was there for the end-of-semester buy-back, and after forking over a few $200 texts for eight or nine bucks apiece, my mood had grown so foul I decided to just keep what was left. I told the other students in line they were better off setting their books on fire, made a mean face at the bookstore lady, and left.

I ended up with all the texts used in the best college course I ever took — the Survey of Military History, taught by Dr. Harold Selesky, a passionate lecturer who specialized in the American Revolution and kept the worst office hours in the department. It occurred to me I enjoyed following along in the texts as he lectured on the evolution of warfare since man first picked up sticks, so I decided to go back and read the books from cover to cover.

One of those books was “Overlord: D-Day and the Battle for Normandy,” by British journalist and historian Sir Max Hastings. It was an eye-opening journey through the American military’s proudest moment, and Hastings told the story with such authority and clarity, flavoring the 10,000-foot view of the historian with quotes and anecdotes from common soldiers, that I became enthralled.

As soon as I read the last page, I wanted to know Hastings’ views on other military histories. He had my trust.

I bought and read several of Hastings’ works over the years before arriving at what I, so far, consider his finest work. “Retribution: The Battle for Japan, 1944-45,” is one Hastings’ two World War II histories that ignore the often-told stories of the beginnings of the conflict and focus instead on the final, collapsing months, when Japan’s war effort was doomed and the United States’ chief concern was how to play the endgame.

In “Retribution,” Hastings takes the reader through every campaign and involves him in the affairs of every nation contributing to the final battles in the far-off Pacific Ocean. His research is drawn from government records, published works and interviews with the rapidly disappearing veterans from that generation.

In today’s world of political correctness and revisionism, Hastings’ blunt and research-supported analyses of the war and its belligerents

“The Trees of Pride”

by G. K. Chesterton G. K. Chesterton was an English writer in the early 20th century whose works were influential on many historic figures. A few of his more well-known writings were “The Man Who Was Thursday,”“Tales of the Long Bow” and “The Man Who Knew Too Much.”

“The Trees of Pride” centers on the nononsense character of Squire Vane, a stiff British man who owns coastal property in Cornwall, on the southwestern-most tip of England. At the top of the cliffs on his land stood a grove of peacock trees that he’d had imported.

His gardener and woodcutter both despised

are refreshing. He calls out the new wave of Japanese apologists who downplay their nation’s brutality during the war, refutes hindsight claims that America’s harsh treatment of the enemy was rooted in racism and exposes the personal and professional failings of the great leaders who directed armies and navies across the largest theater of war in the history of the world.

In one chapter of the book, he points out in italics that decisions made have to be considered in that time. It is misleading to apply modern morality to life-or-death choices made in the world’s most violent era.

Hastings is also skillful in accrediting America’s superiority without presenting himself as an admirer. He carefully and convincingly slaughters some of America’s most sacred cows — he asserts the resources tied up in the frightful firebombing of Japanese cities would have been better utilized in other efforts, criticizes the different military services’ rivalries and self-promotion, and labels the great Douglas McArthur as an egomaniac, prone to fancies and critical errors.

“Retribution” also allows the western reader to understand what it was like for Japanese citizens, as Hastings has interviewed and included the stories of numerous Japanese soldiers, pilots and civilians caught in the tremendous struggle.

And, most impressively, he breaks free of focusing only on the most-recognized players in the great struggle by including the stories of the common men and women caught up in it.

Readers can relate to the black humor of the American sailor who, minutes after being saved from certain death by the inexplicable withdrawal of superior Japanese naval forces in the Battle of Leyte Gulf, shouted, “Dammit, boys, they’re gettin’ away!” Readers are allowed a glimpse behind the unfathomable outer shell of surviving Japanese kamikaze pilots who decades later admit with touching honesty, “We did not want to die.”

Hastings has also written about World War I, the Korean War and other great moments in history, but his finest work concerns the Second World War. “Retribution” was published in 2007, and its last-of-the-war companion book, “Armageddon: The Battle for Germany, 1944-45” — also a captivating book — was published in 2005.

Recommended by Adam Northam, managing editor

the trees and had the same opinion about them that most of the village had — they were supernaturally imbued with poisonous treachery.

Villagers were falling ill and dying, and blamed it on the foreign trees. Tales were told of people wandering in the midst of the grove at night, and never emerging.

Vane absolutely denies anything supernatural and resents that the poor villagers hate his trees, and him, simply because he is wealthy enough to improve his property.

At a dinner party at the estate, Vane and his daughter entertain a neighboring poet, a lawyer friend, a doctor friend and a visiting American writer. On a dare, Vane marches into the grove of questionable trees intending to remain overnight and prove all the superstitions wrong. When he

doesn’t emerge the next morning, and no trace of him is readily found, the mystery intensifies.

This imaginative short tale deals with a situation where everyone is shadowed in suspicion and a cloak of “the unexplained” hangs over the area. Chesterton brings the tension to its climax in an unexpected way that meets its resolution shortly thereafter.

It’s an enjoyable read with all the milestones of a great mystery, in a format that can be read with a short investment of time.

Published in 1922, this work of less than 100 pages is readily available in the public domain, meaning you can find a copy of it online absolutely free.

Recommended by Brett Campbell, lifestyles editor

BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 35

food MARCH/APRIL 18

IN THE CORNER

36 BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

Story & photos by Donna Campbell

T

he first thing you have to know about visiting Granny’s Corner in McCall Creek is that if they don’t know you now, it won’t be long before they do.

Strangers don’t visit Granny’s more than twice. By the third visit they know your name and they’re asking about your mama and ‘em.

Owner Sandra Cupit makes sure of that.

She bought the place in 1998. It was Kountry Korner, a dot on the map in southwest Lincoln County at the corner of Burt Jordan and Bogue Chitto roads. She called it Granny’s, after her dear grandmother, Josie Rushing, who died six months before she took it over.

Cupit hadn’t planned to become an entrepreneur. She was working a Lance route, stocking K&K’s shelves with cheese crackers and peanuts.

From time to time, the owner would ask her, “Don’t you want to buy this store?” Cupit never seriously considered it.

Then one day, she woke up and didn’t want to run her route. So she went and made an offer.

Her mother, Eve Roper, was her partner for the first eight or nine years. She’d retired from Walmart in Brookhaven, where’s she’d been the personnel manager.

Most folks called her Granny, assuming she was the namesake of the store and she let them. She passed away in October.

Cupit didn’t change a lot when she took over, but gradually added to the menu. It started with some burgers and po-boys.

Now it takes up four large whiteboards which hang on the wall over the kitchen window. If it can be grilled on a flattop or dunked in deep fryer, it’s probably scribbled up there.

Burgers come in small, large or double. She likens it to an ol’ pool hall burger with sliced onions and dill slices. The

burgers can be topped with cheese, bacon, chili or jalapeños.

“We have people call us back and tell us, ‘That’s the best burger I’ve ever eaten,’” she said.

If burgers don’t whet your appetite there are also poboys, baskets and sandwiches that can be paired with fries — crinkle, steak, Cajun, curly or sweet potato — tater tots, onion rings or okra.

Three surprises stand out on the board. Sandra’s Sandwich is named for the proprietor because it’s her favorite concoction. It’s fried chicken on a bun with mayonnaise, swiss cheese and jalapeños.

The fried bologna sandwich comes with a sliced-by-hand chunk of bologna, piled on a bun with grilled onions and slathered with spicy mustard and jalapeño cheese.

The third surprise is the handcut steaks — not what you’d expect from a joint that sells boiled peanuts, bait, Marlboros and deer feed. They buy them whole and cut steaks into 14-16 ounce ribeyes and 8-ounce sirloins. They also do rib day every other weekend.

Those go quickly, according to a sad looking couple who arrived too late one particular Saturday. They found something else on the menu to suit their tastes and vowed to come earlier next time.

“We almost always sell out and there’s always someone disappointed they didn’t get any,” Cupit said.

Lunch and supper take up three of the boards. The fourth is reserved for breakfast choices. If it can be eaten in the mornings, you’re likely to find it there. They’ve got biscuits, eggs, pancakes, french toast, hashbrowns and Southern grits, which seems sort of redundant. All of those can come with bacon, sausage, ham or steak — ribeye or country fried.

Don’t forget the milk gravy.

Opposite page: At top: Owner Sandra Cupit rings up customers on a busy Saturday. Below: Local Chris Ellis likes to visit Granny’s Corner every time he’s home from working on the road for down-home country cooking and the nice people. Pictured is Ellis flanked by his two sons, Caden and Colten.

Above: A fried bologna sandwich is served with spicy pickle stix with ranch.

BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 37

Above: Granny’s Corner has been in continual operation since 1998. Opposite, top: Granny’s offers a variety of foods, including grilled biscuits and a choice of homemade jellies. Opposite: A boy thumbs through the selection of DVDs for rent. Opposite, right: A chicken-shaped sign tells diners what their two choices are for dinner.

One customer’s claim to fame is the J.E. Special, marked with “If you dare!!!” in red on the board. It’s two biscuits smothered in the aforementioned gravy, three eggs any way you want them and a choice of meat.

It’s stacked on a plate in that order, just the way “J.E.” ordered his.

If you’re not that adventurous, there’s a grilled biscuit that’s split, buttered and tossed on the flattop to get crispy on the flat sides. When it’s plopped on a plate in front of you, it’s begging for some of Cupit’s homemade jelly, which she serves to diners and sells in the store.

Crabapple is popular, but so are muscadine, wild plum and possum grape. Mayhaw is, too, but she’s hard pressed to find any to pick.

Iced tea is always $1 for unlimited glasses.

“If it’s not too busy, the waitress will fill the tea but we leave it on the table. If it’s busy, you have to pour your own tea,” she said.

Coffee is always hot and free.

The food and the atmosphere are what brings people to Granny’s, Cupit said.

“You don’t see the old mom and pop stores anymore.

They feel comfortable and at home here,” she said.

Not only do the employees know the customers’ names,

38 BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

they know their typical orders. One young lady orders a hamburger with mayo only and Cajun fries every time.

Construction workers walk by the kitchen window and say they want their usual.

“And we know what to fix,” Cupit said.

Food and friendly smiles aren’t the only draw at Granny’s. Cupit tries to stock the coolers and shelves with all the necessities so people who live in McCall Creek can get what they need without driving to town.

She sells fresh farm eggs and store-bought eggs, milk and bread. But she also stocks animal feed, red worms and crickets, canned goods and pantry staples. She’s got gas and diesel pumps out front. Cupit also rents DVDs because her customers don’t always have a good internet connection to stream movies. She buys new releases herself and rotates them out.

“We try to keep the new ones in all the time,” she said.

Cupit doesn’t plan to change anything in the store.

It’s not broken, so she’s not fixin’ it. Her top priority is giving her customers what they want.

“If it was not from that door opening to the inside and someone coming in here, I wouldn’t be here,” she said. “I have to make them happy every day, all day, so they will return. I want them to feel like they’re welcome here.” BM

BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 39

garden MARCH/APRIL 18

THIS SPRING DEMONSTRATES ADVANTAGES OF LOROPETALUM

By Gary. R. Bachman

We’re finally emerging from the “freezemageddon” we experienced earlier this year, and the garden and landscape are emerging with a vengeance.

I was expecting much more cold damage than I’ve seen so far this spring. Although it is likely that we’ll see more damage as the year goes on, early indications are positive.

Loropetalum is one of the landscape shrubs I’ve been most impressed with in terms of its ability to bounce back.

This spring, the flowering has been one of the best I’ve seen in quite a few years.

Loropetalums have been flowering with such abundance that I’ve been getting quite a few calls asking for the name of these shrubs. And why not? Loropetalum should be a staple landscape shrub in every garden.

There are loropetalum selections that are perfect for any landscape, from large shrub/small-tree forms to dwarf and trailing varieties. The straight species has green foliage, and I don’t see it much. My favorites are the burgundy-leaf varieties, especially when they’re grown in full sun where the best color development occurs.

When grown in shady situations, much of the foliage remains green.

Loropetalum typically begins blooming in early spring and then sporadically through the rest of summer.

I love the pink to red flowers of the burgundy-leaf selections. The flowers of loropetalum are unusual, having straplike petals reminiscent of the flowers of a winter-blooming favorite, witch-hazel. This feature is not surprising since they are in the same family. Because of the strap-like flowers, loropetalum is commonly called Chinese fringe flower, and it is native to China and Japan.

The selection called Burgundy was named a Mississippi Medallion Winner in 2001, and it is still a landscape favorite. This selection will grow to 10 feet or more if left unpruned or trimmed into a fine small tree form. The foliage is reddish purple and can turn bright orange in the cool fall air.

a

40 BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

The flowers of loropetalum have strap-like petals, and the plant is commonly called Chinese fringe flower. (Photo by MSU Extension/Gary Bachman)

Burgundy’s flowers are hot pink and have a delicate fragrance.

Ruby loropetalum is a smaller form that freely flowers all season with pretty pink flower clusters. New foliage emerges ruby red before maturing to dark burgundy.

I really like the distinctly weeping Purple Pixie loropetalum, which makes it a candidate for the spiller plant in a combination container. The evergreen foliage is a deep purple-burgundy. As a ground cover, Purple Pixie spreads up to 4 feet wide and only about 1 foot tall.

Loropetalum is also a good choice when considering watering needs. This plant tolerates the drought conditions we frequently experience in our Mississippi

gardens and landscapes.

One of the most common mistakes gardeners make when planting loropetalum is planting too deeply. Never plant deeper than the top of the container, and dig the hole at least twice as wide as the container. Amend the native soil with good organic matter when filling in the hole. This material will give the loropetalum roots a good base to grow out into.

Finish with a 2-inch layer of mulch to conserve soil moisture and prevent weeds.

Bachman is an Extension/Research Professor with Mississippi State University.

Vote For ForAnd AndElect Elect Vote

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Renee is formerly Circuit and 2006.

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April 11is Lineman Appreciation Day Lineworker Appreciation Day 9, 2018 Help us April say thanks to those who help keep the lights on.

Recycling in Brookhaven is successful and ongoing!

35 Gallon Recycling Containers still available at city barn upon request

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For more information: www.brookhavenms.com This ad is sponsored by the MS Department of Environmental Quality.

BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

43

photo essay MARCH/APRIL18

GOIN’ TO TOWN CAR SHOW

44 BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

photo essay MARCH/APRIL18

CAMELLIA SHOW

BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 45

voices MARCH/APRIL 18

A

Why I love Brookhaven

fter moving back to Mississippi from Birmingham, a teaching job led me to The Home Seekers Paradise. That was in 1993, and I’m completing my 25th year in the Brookhaven School District.

Brookhaven is a unique small town full of pride and tradition. I’ve come to love the people here. I have seen so many times how this town comes together during difficult times and during times of celebration. I am truly amazed by the spirit of the people here.

Brookhaven has so much to offer. We are so blessed to have such a thriving town with special shops, festivals, theatre, fairs, churches, great restaurants and schools.

As a teacher it is so rewarding to me to see so many of my former students working and raising their families in Brookhaven. That speaks volumes about the people and opportunities found in this town.

My husband Doug and I have been beyond blessed to see our two children grow up in such a special place.

This town continues to give back to us. Our daughter, Jillian, works at the Chamber of Commerce and is involved in various organizations. Our son-in-law, Nic, is employed with King’s Daughters Medical Center.

They just purchased their first home in Brookhaven.

Our son, Ian, gained a love of theatre at the Brookhaven Little Theatre and then continued to study theatre at the Mississippi School of the Arts. He is currently a senior majoring in theatre at Florida State University.

Each Season brings fun and exciting adventures in Brookhaven. I look forward to new opportunities to continue to invest my time and energy in the hometown that I love.

46 BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

Kellye Sicks has been married to Doug for 27 years.

They have two children — Jillian and Ian. Kellye graduated from Copiah Lincoln Community College with an associate’s degree in early childhood education and from the University of Mississippi with a bachelor’s degree in elementary education.

social scenes MARCH/APRIL 18

First Achievers Black History Month celebration

Dorothy Wortham, Delene Dixon-Dillard, Micole Goodman and Alicia Legett.

Phyllis Watkins, Carolyn Humphries and Diana Christmas.

Emma Harris, Stanford Qualls and Fronie Qualls.

Mazie Davis, Diane Harvey, Montoria Watts and Keiyana Lenoir.

Lentie Garner, Glenda Chatman, Inez Calloway and Rev. Charles McGee.

BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 47

Princess Ball Copiah-Lincoln Community College sponsored a chance for every girl to be a princess for a night.

Lapatron and MaKayla McDaniel.

Bruce and Anabel Gray.

Dustin Bairfield and Kenslie, Jimbo Williams and Lucy.

Jeremy and Macy Loy.

Dr. Josh Iles and Isabella.

48 BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

Trey and Polly Waterloo.

Prentiss Smith and Eliza.

Nathan and Eleanor Case.

Jonathan Shannon and Jacey.

BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 49

Friends of the Library The 2018 membership gathering Jan. 20 was at the home of Carole Bennett.

Bettie Bullard, Claire Snow, Kay Calcote and Janice Grenn Kaplan.

Cheri Langston, Carole Bennett and Dott Cannon.

Kimmie Eubanks, Cathy McGeehee, Carole Bennett and Pam Womack.

Katrina Castilaw and Cathy McGeehee.

Bill Perkins and Cheri Langston.

50 BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

Katrina Castilaw, Cathy McGeehee, Shirley Estes and Kimmie Eubanks.

Lincoln County Forestry Association awards Jan. 25 at the Lincoln Civic Center

Wallace Swanson, Jim Dyess and Supervisor Eddie Brown

Tedrick Ratcliff, Sen. Sally Doty and Suzanne Hirsch.

Phillip KingIncoming LCFA president, Bob Naeger (Friend of Forestry award), Allison Livingston (forestry scholarship recipient), David Livingston (outgoing LCFA president), Tommy and Barbara Miller (Tree Farmer of the Year) and Mike Smith (Logger of the Year).

Tedrick Ratcliff, David Livingston and Jacob Giens

Elizabeth Stewart, Lisa Lea and Jarrett Lea

BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 51

Krewe of Ceres Charity Ball

Hope Reeves and Taylor Pendley.

Bill and Cathy Phillips.

Pat and Carolyn Hennington.

Jeff and Shannon Clark.

52 BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

Dienna and Pete Moak.

Brad Carr and Anna Johnson.

Spencer and Janie Mooney, Becky and Mike Taylor.

Becky and Don Doty, Rebecca and Joe Doty.

Betty Ann Perkins and Don Underwood.

Tommy Sprole, Sarah James Sproles and JoAnna Sproles

BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 53

Amy Hoover and Tanner Robinson brunch shower Held Feb. 3 at the home of Marty and Carolyn Stephens

Tanner Robinson, Katy Hoover and Alvin Hoover.

Teresa Sones, Pax and Jennifer Mogenson, and Bill Sones.

Shannon and Robin Aker, Terri and Greg Warnock.

Leah and Allen Chisolm.

Pax and Jennifer Mogenson, Amy Hoover, Tanner Robinson, Roy Robinson and Dianne Robinson.

54 BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

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CONTINUED FROM PAGE 21

Mordecai Ham spoke of it from under a tent in Charlotte. The teenage Billy didn’t decide then that he would one day stand before other searching souls and speak the words himself. But he did know that what he had been made capable of hearing — from somewhere outside his own ability — would change his life forever.

He was a new creature. The old had past. The new had come. There would be no seminary degree, at least not in the traditional sense. But he would be faithful to share the message for the rest of his life.

He could still do it that day standing there on his stone steps outside his log cabin home those many decades later. I was there.

I know.

Ruth Bell was undaunted by the local customs, fears and expectations of a freshman college student in 1937. She came from China, a medical missions family, full of a loving heart for life and the living, with a beauty that was undeniable.

Billy loved her from the git-go, a devotion only surpassed by his desire to share the good news with anyone who would listen. Many would. She and they would share his time. It would be an earthly conflict so infused with limitations of time and space that she would have to learn to survive with a power far beyond herself.

And so she did.

I chewed on that nugget for some time while I contemplated the portrait at night, staring into the dark and seeing the shape of the clay, the composition taking form.

Ruth and I conversed over the phone several times along the journey. I worked with the clay, shaping the nose and the mouth with lips separated just enough to suggest some of the message had just been spoken again.

All the time, I kept seeing her — not her face — but those things that aren’t seen with the eye. The unseen things that make us who we are. The portrait began to speak to me — a strong, driven, sensitive, intense, faithful, gifted, unique man, through whose eyes I would always see her kindness, her devotion, never complaining, ever loving, rarely visible, but always there.

A letter arrived: “I simply don’t see any possibility for a time to work on the sculpture until after the first of the year. We’ll simply have to wait for a time when he is going to be at home.

This will definitely be a case of outwitting the unwilling. But it is an idea whose time has come. We simply must find a way.”

She would spring the idea on him when she thought it right to do so. She knew him and she knew his ways. But as it turned out, she never did actually run it by him at all. I 56 BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

would simply bring the work to the cabin at which time he would get it all — the idea, the bust, and the intrusion. She knew that’s how it had to happen. Even if I didn’t.

Billy Graham often said he was just another man. But some had but him on a pedestal and he did live on a mountain top.

When asked, he was known to respond along these lines.

“I never asked to be put on a pedestal and she chose the mountain, not me.”

As I worked through the sculpting process, I reminded myself, the potter molds the clay. Be malleable. Stay loose.

Search for the things unseen. Look for more than just the likeness. It will take form. * * * * * God in His ordinary providence, maketh use of means, yet is free to work without, above, and against them, at his pleasure — Westminster Confession of Faith 1646 Robert Thornwill Coit came to Meridian, Mississippi, in the early part of the 20th Century. The young minister had visions of the Korean Mission field. But there on the Mississippi-Alabama border he saw another vision — Cecile Woods, granddaughter of a once chief justice of the Mississippi Supreme Court.

The young married couple served Korea through the Southern Presbyterian Mission Board, through which they met and became lifelong friends with Dr. Nelson Bell and his wife Virginia. Dr. Bell was a missionary surgeon in China and his second daughter, Ruth, was near the same age as Cecile Coit’s fifth child, Millie.

The bond was not easily broken despite time or space or geographical location. True friendship.

After Robert Coit’s death in the 1930s, Cecile moved back to the States and lived in Richmond, Virginia. Later, after Millie and the other children were grown, she moved to the small mountain community of Montreat, just outside Black Mountain, North Carolina.

Montreat became a summer gathering place for Cecile’s children and grandchildren. The Bell family retired nearby. Millie married Jack Cotton Oates.

The young insurance agent met his wife through his sister, a classmate of Millie’s at Agnes Scott College for Women in Decator, Georgia. The Oates family, including the youngest boy, Rob, spent many summers in Montreat with PaPa, though the grandmother was known by everyone on the mountain, including Ruth Bell, as Aunt Cecile.

The seeds for the Billy Graham portrait

bust had been planted even then. Years later, Rob Oates was called as a senior pastor to a small southwest Mississippi town. I was there. He introduced me to his mother, Millie, and she introduced me to Ruth Graham. Ordinary people.

Extraordinary providence. * * * * * Ruth arrived at Wheaton College in 1937. Three years later, she met the man everyone was talking about. Billy Graham captured her heart and they married in 1943 in Montreat. The honeymoon in Blowing Rock was short and sweet before the couple began a 750-mile trek to their new home in Hinsdale, Illinois.

He answered a call from a small congregation at a salary of $55 a week. Early in 1945, lonely and often alone while her new husband traveled the country with ever increasing invitations to preach, Ruth was thrilled when her husband agreed that she should be close to her parents while he traveled. Home became an upstairs bedroom at the Bells’ house.

Billy traveled to virtually every large city in the country while she stayed right there in Montreat. In September that year, the first child was born, and in the fall of 1947, another baby was on the way. They bought a two-story summer house across the street from the Bells; the monthly payments, $45.

A third daughter was born in 1950, and though the girls demanded much of the young mother’s time, the first son was born in 1952. By 1954, there was little privacy on Assembly Drive.

Billy Graham had become somewhat famous for his evangelistic gifts and Ruth Graham struggled to live through the unexpected and unwanted notoriety.

“I’ve tacked ‘Private, No Admittance’ over my life, and it won’t work. I belong to God and He placed me here, and He will undertake for me and give me poise, grace, love, wisdom all I need to bring Him honor in the life He has appointed.”

Then she began a search. She worried about the children having a normal childhood. She heard people talk. There they go, those are his children. They must be perfect. It’s an odd kind of cross to bear, yet those who have not been through it would consider it some kind of glory.

That year, Ruth stumbled upon a beautiful 150-acre cove just two miles from their house on Assembly Drive, and, although he had seen and surveyed the property on one of his brief stints at home, Billy was nonetheless shocked to discover on his return from a trip to the West Coast that he owned Little Piney Cove.

Ruth had borrowed the $4,300 purchase price from a local bank. * * * * * We arrived in Asheville at 1 a.m. on a Friday. I stretched out to sleep but thoughts raced through my mind, thinking about the next morning; would he be on the mountain?

I trusted her, but she was nearly 80.

Maybe she forgot, or simply didn’t tell him. I had made it clear over the phone that I would be there Saturday morning.

But if he knew some stranger was coming to measure his nose, he might just conveniently disappear for a walk on the mountain. The question replayed over and over in my mind like a skipping 45 phonographic record. You tried to do a portrait from life of who?

We made it over to Black Mountain in about 30 minutes. I drove and the clay Billy rode with the clay Eudora in the back seat, both sitting on a flat platform rigged up for the trip. Andrew Wyeth’s bronze head was in the trunk. I turned left at Black Mountain and drove on up to Montreat. The stone entry arch was unchanged from the time that the newlyweds left for Blowing Rock five decades earlier.

After a yearlong journey, I had arrived on the mountain. Though the thoughts and words were already clearly on my mind, Kristy, my wife and best friend, voiced them. “What were you thinking?”

When I passed the Montreat Presbyterian Church, I called Miss Ruth from my cell phone. “Hello”, I heard the familiar voice. “Good morning, Miz Ruth.”

Could she have forgotten about my arrival? I had spoken to her two days before.

“Well, good morning.”

“I’m here in Montreat with the bust and I thought I’d check and see what your schedule is.”

“You’re here on the mountain?” she sounded almost surprised.

“That’s right. It’s beautiful.”

“Oh, isn’t it lovely? Do you know how to get to the gate?”

I didn’t even know there was a gate, much less where it was. “No maam, I’ve never been up here.”

Negative thoughts seeped in. What if he didn’t like the bust? Or the idea. Or, worse, what might he say about it? Now who is this supposed to be? Apparently Ruth became known over much of western North Carolina in the mid 1950s, not as Billy Graham’s wife, but as the

little woman buying run down, often uninhabitable log cabins, parts of other old buildings, and, more often than not, inspecting the materials and doing the deal herself.

She was building her dream house, secluded comfort and stimulation for the whole family while waiting for their daddy to return from some other place.

For her it would be the epitome of fine living, the older the material the better — it was an architectural and building philosophy way before its time.

As a matter of fact, some of the finish carpenters quit the job because they wouldn’t build a house where the new lumber was used for framing.

I can’t build no house where you use that hunerd year old stuff on the outside where everbody cin see it. Could rern a man’s reputation, Miz Ruth.

Her visiting husband, gone as much as he was home, had other ideas about luxury — something along the lines of hotel living.

But he eventually compromised by asking and getting a comfortable chair and good lighting. So there I was navigating the same mountain and arriving at the gate, honking my horn twice, and watching the barrier part. We were going to the mountaintop. We rounded the last turn and above me I could see the cabin, rustic yet elegant, sitting on the site just like she had seen it in her mind.

I eased up the hill imagining a 34-yearold Ruth Graham hiking up the same hill and finding her refuge from a rapidly growing family celebrity. There was something special about the place. I could sense that immediately. I told her I would be there on Saturday morning. Surely she had told him.

“Is this OK?” I spoke through the car window to a solidly built man in his 40s.

He quietly appeared from behind a small garden house when I pulled into the drive by the big house.

“How you doin’?” I reached out to shake his hand. “Welcome to Little Piney Cove. I’m Bill,” he smiled and I felt a strong grip.

“She’s expecting you.”

Bill, Kristy and I walked over toward the door and the stone step threshold. The door opened and there she stood, petite, white hair, sharp features covered with aging skin, and wearing a floor-length house coat and house slippers.

She welcomed us into a hallway that opened on the right into the kitchen and breakfast room. A large bay window revealed the Smoky Mountains. The

inside walls were exposed logs with traditional chinking and the huge fireplace was made of stones roughly mortared together.

I wondered how this could “rern” a man’s reputation. I would work there in the sitting area by the fireplace. She and her sister from the West Coast poured coffee for Kristy as I went back to the car to get my sculpture stand. Bill followed; polite but present. I set up the stand and brought in the works one at a time; the bronze of Andy Wyeth, the clay figure of Eudora Welty, and finally, the clay bust of the man of the house.

“I think it’s just marvelous,” I heard Ruth say from the sink as I returned from the car one last time with my sculpting tools. “I think he will like it.”

We discussed the process, how I had arrived at the present composition and what needed work. Ruth turned to Bill, obviously there to watch me and any other visitor who was at Little Piney Cove for the first time.

“Why don’t you see if he will come up here? He’s back in the bedroom.”

She smiled as she looked at the bust, then at me and then back at her clay husband peering out the mountain top window.

“He’s not moving very well this morning. Oh, but I think he’ll be surprised and delighted. Don’t you?”

Her West Coast sister nodded.

“He does know about this, doesn’t he?”

I hoped it was an unnecessary question.

“He will in a minute.”

Ruth giggled almost to herself and turned to the sink. Her sister walked over to the bust, staring at the brown clay face, eye to eye.

“It’s just uncanny, Ruth. Just uncanny. I think he’s going to speak.” * * * * * I heard the slow shuffle of feet easing down the planked floor of the hall as I repositioned the stand so the bust would be looking the right way. When I turned around, there he stood in the opening to the kitchen, six feet four inches, with white long hair, thinning and combed back, his eyeglasses big-rimmed and tinted like watered down iced tea.

He wore blue jeans and the jean jacket given to him by Johnny Cash. The face was very familiar to me. I had felt the contours for months. But I had needed to look at the real face. And now I was.

He did not look so much surprised as shocked, standing there looking at his own face looking back.

BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE 57

As I walked over to shake his hand, Ruth dried off her hands with a dish towel and I heard her mischievous snickering.

“Before you say anything, remember, this is really not about you or me, it’s for your lovely wife. She sort of put this together.”

There he stood with a stranger in his kitchen on an early Saturday morning. Not only that, he stood looking at his own head sitting on a platter by the fireplace looking back.

“I realize this must be a little bit of a shock.”

“She’s shocked me a few times before,” he glanced over to her, his face showing the beginnings of a smile, as he slowly walked over towards the stand and the bust. For a few seconds there was silence.

“I think it’s just marvelous,” Ruth seemed to be baiting some response from her husband.

“How did you do this?” he asked as he turned to me, then moved over to his comfortable chair with good light and eased down in front of the sculpture stand.

“Well, it’s taken quite a bit of research; watched a lot of sermons on video. You’re not a bad preacher, by the way,” The sisters chuckled in harmony but it was the genuine smile of approval from the man himself that helped the most. I began to explain the process of building the armature, applying the clay, how the tools worked, and describing the difference between works in three dimension and those on paper. He acted interested.

“So what now?” His tone was not really ‘lets get this over with’, but one of ‘how do we proceed from here?”

“Well, to really get it right, I need some measurements using these calipers,” I showed him the aluminum prongs that are used to measure dimension and proportion.

“How does that work?” He looked at the prongs.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll show you.”

I took the calipers and moved towards his face. I felt Bill tense up from the corner.

I measured his pupils center to center then compared that to the clay model. Perfect match. I knew better than to take credit and a muffled laugh escaped my lips.

“What?” He was curious.

“We’re right on. The measurements are perfect. Your eyes are the right distance apart.”

He could hear the surprised tone of my 58 BROOKHAVEN MAGAZINE

voice. “Aren’t they supposed to be?”

He looked at me and I looked back. He seemed less surprised than I did, as though it was meant to be.

As we worked on, I made other measurements, checked facial landmarks, and found some off. The head size was right but some of the structures were just off the mark. The visit was crucial.

“Your ears are a little too far forward on the sides of your head. I’m gonna have to slice them off and move them a little.”

I took out a carving knife, the perfect weapon for moving large chunks of clay. Without a word, he reached up and covered his own ears. The kitchen laughed before I had seen his gesture.

“Dr. G, how you feeling this morning?”

I heard the friendly voice of a man entering the back door and into the makeshift studio.

“Miz Ruth, you’re up early.”

Maury Scobee was never far away from his employer of 25 years. He knew more about what Billy Graham did day to day than the man did himself. This was one adventure, however, that even Maury was unaware of.

Ruth kept a good secret. But the secret was out.

“Wow!” Maury walked over to the bust and shook my hand. “I’m Maury. This is just incredible.” I shook hands with a man anybody would immediately like.

“How did all this happen? Miz Ruth, what have you been up to?” He looked over to his boss and smiled. The boss smiled back.

Ruth shared the story and Maury studied the portrait. Up close. Then he backed deeper into the kitchen to get a different look, passing by Eudora and Andy sitting side by side on the breakfast table. “Look at these.

Dr. G, have you seen this?”

“I brought them to show what a finished bronze looks like. The Eudora Welty work I just thought Miz Ruth might enjoy seeing. I plan to take it to the foundry with this new piece for casting.”

“What do ya think, Dr. G?” Maury pointed to the clay head of the Pulitzer Prizewinning author.

“I thought it was Eleanor Roosevelt,” he answered from the wingback chair. “You know, I hadn’t thought of that but I can sort of see it.”

I interjected. “I’ll tell you this though, as we drove up here yesterday, I kept noticing these cars passing, even truckers, staring over at me.

Looking back sometimes. I first wondered if something was wrong with the car. Then it hit me, they were looking at you and Eudora riding on that back seat platform looking out the windows. I know there’ve been no scandals in this ministry, but I can see the headlines now, ‘Billy Graham spotted in Alabama with another woman.’”

I heard Ruth laugh again as she looked out the sink window across the treetops. A subtle smile grew across the lips of her 79 year old partner. I took it all in. I looked at Kristy and she smiled as she saw what I saw. It seemed God had dropped us off at Little Piney Cove for the morning. With a wire loop I scored a thin layer of clay from the contour of the left ear. Then I palpated the real left ear. Back and forth. Billy Graham watched.

He understood. Later we walked out onto the back stone steps to use natural light for some photos. I squatted down and clicked the shutter, capturing the contours and still searching to find this man.

I felt the nudge of the big dog and I looked up toward the man after God’s own heart who seemed to be looking beyond this world.

I saw Ruth glance out the paned window reflecting on their long life together. She smiled towards him as he peered into the distance and she knew. He was just here for a visit.

EPILOGUE: Ruth Bell Graham died June 14, 2007. She was 87 years old. The first casting of Billy Graham, the bronze portrait bust, sits on her grand piano in the log cabin home she called Little Piney Cove. I can still see her smile. On Feb. 21, 2018, Billy Graham died at home at the age of 99. I look forward to seeing them both again.

— J. Kim Sessums

voices MARCH/APRIL 18

ANY PRETTY BLOOMS

I

went to see her on a good day, one of the last good days, when the wildflowers were in bloom.

I made the trip late on a Friday. I got on the Natchez Trace near Mathiston, to take the back way up to Tupelo. It was early May, and ranunculus was blooming in the pastures around Cane Creek, like a fine yellow dust had fallen to cover those old Indian lands.

Someone would disc it up in a week or two, but against the soft orange glow of the dying sky, those weeds were pretty enough to make me pull over and get out to wander down the fence a spell. I sent pictures to my wife.

My Aunt Willene Gann had just been moved to Sanctuary Hospice House on the west end of Main Street, where the city limits segregates the expanding concrete from the flat, black fields. She had gone to the doctor for one of the many checkups 88-year-olds have to get for tired hearts, sorry eyes and swollen legs.

They found cancer. Too late.

They gave her a choice. She could have gone back home to her little house in Bexar, Alabama, to be tended to by hospice nurses. But she chose the Sanctuary.

“I didn’t want to be in nobody’s way,” she said.

I showed up at sundown with the bestlooking bouquet of orange lilies I could find.

Most of them needed watering. I thought I had done good, but when I saw Aunt Willene laying there, give out and shrunken on the long mechanical bed, my lilies seemed that much poorer.

I was ashamed. She thanked me for them, anyway. I left for the night, promising to come back next day with better flowers.

Flowers were a big deal for Aunt Willene and me. She told everyone how we snatched up anything pretty, wild weed or not, and planted it in the flowerbed at the edge of her porch, back when I was a child. One still grows there, a determined old lily that has crowded out anything set near it for 25 years.

Back then, Aunt Willene was like a celebrity to a little boy spending long summer days at his grandmother’s house. She would

arrive, like a visiting hero, in her blue Buick to carry me away from the boredom of Granny’s “stories” on noontime television, and we would go off to make trouble, the 10-year-old and his 65-year-old mentor.

We dug sprigs from underneath granny’s big white snowball bush and set them out anew, or repotted purple petunias in a cast iron wash pot, or transplanted any pretty blooms we found. We were doing it so Granny, in her 80s, did not have to.

Back then, I did not know that.

We visited the old black folks’ cemetery in the pine thicket down the road and tried to clean around those ancient, smooth stones. We fished in Sipsey Creek with bamboo poles, using earthworms we had dug up for bait, or chicken livers packed in an old sour cream container.

She protected me from moccasins we never saw, and unhooked all the fish we caught.

Those were wild adventures for me, but somewhere along the way, I forgot to cherish them. I was too busy chasing girls and pretending to be wiser than I ever was as a teenager. I lived fast and arrogant in college, and had no time to sit around with old folks who listened to funeral announcements on the AM radio. I moved off, got a job, got a wife, got a family. I was too far away to come home often, and when I did my time was too limited to share.

I went years without seeing Aunt Willene.

Then both my grandmothers died, in 2011 and 2015, and suddenly she was the only old woman I had, in a time when old women have grown exceedingly precious.

I had neglected her for more than 20 years.

I deserve to go to hell for it. I prayed, and asked forgiveness. I spent 2015 and 2016 trying to recover those years.

Every time I went home to Alabama, I made sure to sit a while with Aunt Willene.

We talked about Granny, and the old days, and my mother. A few times I took my wife, and Aunt Willene fell on her with love, like she had known her as long as me. My wife treated her like her own granny in those few, treasured visits.

That is a good woman, there. Both of them.

I tried to bring back those old days by bringing flowers. She would sit them on the kitchen table and keep them in fresh water until they died. I brought a basket of poinsettias at Christmas and found her alone at breakfast, eating fresh biscuits with bacon and eggs, and a pile of fresh sliced tomatoes.

“I ain’t supposed to be eating this, but I’m gone do it anyway,” she said.

“You go on and eat it,” I said. “I won’t tell nobody.”

When I returned to the Sanctuary that Saturday, I brought a big arrangement of lilies and a bag of chocolate candy. Those lilies were never put in the ground, and she never ate the chocolate. Her son, Donny, called me a day later, after I had gone home to Mississippi, to tell me she had stopped eating.

She died five days after that. I went to the visitation Friday night and the funeral Saturday morning.

Aunt Willene was the last of my granny’s clan, the youngest of eight Byrds, all gone now. With her death, my mother and her sisters became the new old women. They sat together in the funeral home and remarked on how Aunt Willene’s sons were the image of their own long-dead father and uncles, men unknown to me.

“There stands Papa Byrd made over,” my mother said.

After the funeral service, I drove to the cemetery. Her headstone, shared with Uncle Lowell, had been waiting for her for years, already faded a darker gray, but the mounded earth before it was fresh and red, covered with flowers.

I only got in a handful of those visits in two years of trying. One day, I will be called to give an account of why they were so few. I am thankful I was able to get back just a little bit of that missed time.

Winter is gone now, and it makes me think of Aunt Willene and the old folks lost to us.

I think about the wildflowers, all the little, blooming junk plants she rescued and raised, like God and the sparrows.

Maybe, this year, I might raise a few myself.

Adam Northam is managing editor of The Daily Leader.

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