Can you make a good memory last over 47 years?

This week, my mom’s twin brother Ray Short, paid a visit back home to Bigelow, to look up as many friends, classmates, and cousins that he could fit into 4 days.  It didn't take him long to figure out that 47 years removed from the old high school, that the stories were long, and a single visit would only scratch the surface of memories that flooded upon him as we drove around what was his home town until he left for college, as we met several of his classmates.  Ray says he’s having a blast getting to see everyone, and is already thinking about when he can return. 

It was great to trade stories about his experiences, and kind of a, where are they now conversation, that took place as we made every turn on the streets and back roads of East Perry County.  He just kept mentioning how ‘much things have changed’.  But in my mind, some things never have, only the family generations have changed.  It was evident that family personalities, traits, histories, and habits were passed down through the generations.  It was hard to recognize some of the old friends at first glance, but after introductions, it was as plain as day who they were.

Some memories were vivid, some not so much.  But as we met with Ronald Black and he and Ray started catching up, it became easier for Ray to start with the stories of what they did as kids and teens, in a place that could be described as ‘in a world of its’ own’.  He was amazed at the new school, football field, how many houses were gone, and other notable changes.  I was happy to sit and listen to Ray visit with my Granny Marie Langston on Tuesday morning, as they traded stories and Granny was showing off her memory skills as she recalled many details about Billy, Ray, and Faye, my mother.  They laughed so much when Granny recalled Ray’s horse ‘Lightning', (Granny will be 91 this coming Sunday!).  I will never forget it.  It was truly a great day, but it was going to get better for me and a lot of others that were close to Ray’s family growing up.

The funny thing about my mind is that I never know what is about to pop into it.  I bet Ray was having a day like this all week.  As we looked at the pile of rock that are the remains of the old gym, we were having a conversation about the Byrd family.  I mentioned the boys Ralph, Ray, Robert, Ronald, and I was asking about who else there was, because they were all older than me and Ray and Robert were the ones that I knew best because of their friendship with my parents, Donald Lee and Faye.  Ray started talking about Robert.  I knew Robert pretty well, as his wife Barbara (Jones) worked for my Dad in the modular home plant in the early 80’s.  I don’t remember the year, but Robert died suddenly at an early age and it was a real shock for all his friends and especially his family, his kids were a little younger than me, and our hearts went out to them all, as they lost their husband and dad. 

As I was listening to my uncle talk about them being so nice to everyone, pleasant and helpful traits the whole family shared, he said, ‘you know what Robert did one time’.  I figured he was going to tell a tale of mischief but it was of a different tone, one of deep respect.  He went on to tell me about how there was this group of boys making fun of, and picking on Robert.  I asked, ‘what in the world for’, knowing that he never really did anything but smile, and play around with his friends joking.  He said, ‘he was praying with this boy, or maybe witnessing to him’.  He went on to describe the stance he took with those boys, apparently not backing down to them.  

How wonderful, I thought immediately, boy, it’s been over 40 years and that’s the most impressive memory that Robert left on you.  I quickly thought of the fight that kids face with making hard decisions in the face of peer pressure, or doing something that is not necessarily popular.  It made me realize that even though we might have our moments of bad judgment, we still have the obligation to care for others.  I didn't go to church with the Byrd family growing up, but I knew that they did, and I knew that from Clyde, Robert’s dad, they learned to always respect God.  I can only hope that I can leave a memory so good for my children, family, and friends.

If Robert left that deep of an impression on Ray, with that act of Christ-like concern for a classmate in the face of negative peer pressure, I bet that he wasn't the only one to take notice.  So, to all the children of Robert and Barbara Byrd, the wonderful memories of your father are alive, just ask my Uncle Ray.

God bless you all!  It was an honor to know both your parents.

Don