Country Road, Take me Home...

We left Darlington around 9:00 AM on Friday, May 11.  We were headed to the country.

Actually we were going to have lunch with my mother's cousin, Katherine Shaffer and her husband, Vern who live in Kingstree.  Katherine's mother, Gerdette, was my granddaddy Nesmith's sister. I have wonderful memories of visiting Aunt Gerdette as a teenager (along with my sister, Cindy, and our cousins, Ellie and Jimmy Capp) and in about 1980 my children and I spent a delightful evening in the Shaffer home.  I was excited about seeing them.

I do not have a GPS.  I do use MapQuest.  I know that sometimes when making that choice, one might end up driving the scenic route.

When we started planning this trip, my mother wanted me to look at her Atlas.

Oh no.  I didn't need an Atlas.

I should have remembered.  Last year when my friend, Deborah Hansen and I went to Baltimore and I put the routes together (via MapQuest and AAA), she still kept saying that she wished she had her Atlas so she could see the "whole picture".

At any rate.  I had not looked at an Atlas, nor any other maps.  I was good to go.

We were on Highway 52 on the way to Kingstree.  I've been to Kingstree before.  I knew the way. 

But wait, MapQuest told me to turn left on Cade, right on Hemingway (there's a familiar name), left on Nesmith (very familiar, since my mother is a Nesmith by birth); right on Turkey Creek (my mother remembered that area very well).

This is not the road we traveled but it's not that far from the way it was!

Now what MapQuest didn't tell me was that some of those turns were onto roads that were NOT PAVED.  And that they were right down the middle of crops  - corn and tobacco to be exact. I promise you we could have reached out the window and "pulled tobacco" something my mother did as a child.

I kept telling her that she should be glad I got the directions from MapQuest rather than her or she might be in "big trouble".   

                                            

We arrived at Vern and Katherine's and had a lovely lunch (that story next).  Next stop, Andrews, South Carolina.  I looked at MapQuest.  The directions told me to turn left our of the Shaffer's drive. I did and realized what lay ahead of me was - you guessed it -a dirt road.

We had gone a very short distance when to the left I saw Aunt Gerdette's house.

This photo of the corner of Aunt Gerdette's house was taken in 1998

I remembered the day Jimmy dropped the platter of friend chicken on the floor and Aunt Gerdette told us not to worry because she had just mopped the floor that morning.  I remembered when our family visited the house (now owned by her granddaughter, Rebecca) in 1998 and what a fun time that was. 

We turned into the drive - it was a great place to turn around. 

We never made it to Kingstree.  Later mother told me that if I had turned LEFT instead of RIGHT at one juncture it would have taken us right back to 52 - and Kingstree.

But remember - I was depending on MapQuest!

Standing on the corner, watching all the trucks go by

"This Saturday is the Darlington 500", my cousin, Diane told me.

I remembered driving by the track in 1997 as my parents, Rich and I were on the way to New Jersey. Most of my family and friends know that Rich loved NASCAR. In fact on that same trip we went to a racetrack in the Poconos and he actually participated in a class for driving racecars.

I knew a little about NASCAR.

Diane continued.

"And they are having a festival in Florence as a part of the hoopla that goes along with the race. The cars are at the Florence Convention Center."

She went on to say that a group of her friends would be meeting at a Huddle House on the Florence/Darlington highway to watch the parade of trucks as they took the cars to the track

I assumed the drivers would be in that parade.

No - just the trucks.

At the appointed time (7:00 P.M.) the group we were sharing supper with, left our tables and walked out to the street. We held flags and waived them as more than 50 colorful trucks slowly rolled past us.

I kept thinking - we are standing here watching trucks.

Diane's grandchildren, Tripp and Madison joined us. Madison thought the noise was too loud but Tripp thoroughly enjoyed waiving his flag and pulling his arm bidding the truck drivers to blow their horns.

The parade of trucks ended and we finished our supper. We headed back to the farm in Darlington.

Diane's dad, Leon, was known for having some little special activity "up his sleeve" for us when we visited.  That same personality trait was so evident in Diane as she just couldn't resist offering us some more excitement. Would we like to follow the parade?

Sure.

So we got in line. And that's when it really got interesting.

Groups of people lined both sides of the highway. There seemed to be no age, gender, or race barrier. There were grills, tents, lawn chairs. They were tail-gaiting.

It was amazing. Who could count the people? I thought of the pictures I have seen of funeral trains slowly making their way through the country side - trains that carrying the bodies of presidents - these trucks were carrying cars.

One of my reactions was that this was really sad - these people had nothing else to do?

One of my reactions was curious - why in the world would people come to see a truck?

And then I thought it's really kind of cool that people want to come together for something rather than just sit in their homes and watch television. This was an example of community - so it's a good thing.

Some people would call those who came to watch the trucks, "red necks". In fact I started to name this blog - "You might be a red neck if...". But then I thought that's a disparaging term and I did some research to see what it means.

One source said the term red neck is used to described the uneducated and many times racist.

Well, I happen to know many very educated engineers who love NASCAR and who might enjoy watching the trucks that carry the cars - and many of the people I saw lining the highway that night were black. They would certainly be far from racist.

So I've decided not to categorized the people who enjoyed that interesting event.

Let's just chalk it up to a really fun evening.

Fun on the Farm

May 8 - following lunch with Dr. McQuilkin, author A Promise Kept, we were on our way to spend a couple of days on K-D Farm, where my father's sister, Gloria Capp, lives with her daughter, Diane - the D in the name of the 100 acres just outside of Darlington, South Carolina.

Diane and her husband, Scott Creveling share this lovely piece of property with another couple - wife's name is Karen and that's where the K comes from.

The Jacksonville family (my parents, siblings and our children) have enjoyed visiting the farm for more than 10 years now.  What a great place for respite.   

Respite?  Actually we had been there less than an hour when Diane announced that it was time for our walk - which consisted of 2 miles through the woods. That night she told me to be sure I checked really good for ticks.

For ticks?  I was in the country.

Which also proved true when Aunt Gloria served a delicious meal of roast beef, rice and gravy, fresh squash, corn on the cob and sliced tomato.
And at dinner we were joined by Scott's mother, Florence, who is always a delight.

Aunt Gloria has always been a favorite aunt (okay - I have five aunts and they are all my favorite in one way or another).  She was my father's only sister, they were very close and she always doted on me a bit.  No matter when I go there, she's always got a few clothes for me to see if I like or can wear.  Never seems to matter what size I am currently wearing; there is always something.  And she's a pretty snazzy dresser so I always come home anxious to wear what she's given me.

On Day five, we were treated to a delicious country cookin lunch at a restaurant between Florence and Hartsville.  Mr. B's was delightful.  Diane's sister, Debbie, her husband, Curry and their eldest daughter, Jennifer joined us. 

When Debbie, Diane and I are together, we really miss my sister Cindy so we have to laugh harder to make up for her absence.  We also enjoy trying to figure out who looks (or acts) the most like our grandma Lonnie.  I'm the shortest, so I've got that one there.  My ears are the smallest so I'm lost in that one.  All four of us absolutely adore being a grandmother which is certainly something grandma Lonnie was known for.

Later that day, Jamie (Debbie's second daughter) joined us for leftovers and more laughter.

Day six included a wonderful morning sitting on the dock - actually more like a deck that Scott built and watching the fish jump and a mother osprey guarding her nest high above the lake.

Later that day - another two mile walk...on the rail trail in Florence.

And that evening - well I'm saving that evening for another time - you know that Jeff Foxworthy monologue - "You might be a red neck if...".  Just wait.

Our time of respite on the farm, visiting and sharing, laughing and praying would soon come to an end - but not without an invitation from the South Carolina family to the Florida cousins --

"Y'all come back now...ya hear?"

A promise kept

"I am not sure if Dr. McQuilkin will remember me," I wrote to an address I found on the Columbia International University website, "however I think he will remember my family. My mother is Iva Nesmith Huffingham. We were members at Glendale Community Church in Jacksonville when the McQuilkin family were missionaries to Japan and several of my aunts - Thelma, Ann and Beth attended Columbia Bible College."

I went on to say that my mother is 89, that I would be taking her on a trip that would take us through Columbia and although it might be a long shot I wondered about the possibility of our visiting with Dr. McQuilkin - who had retired from the presidency of Columbia some years ago to care for his wife, Muriel after she had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's.

I also mentioned that not only did my mother really valued him in her younger years, she often refers to  Finishing Well as an excellent guide in the aging process.  (Note the prior sentence played a huge part in this story).

What a thrill to hear back  - from none other than Robertson McQuilkin.  He would be absolutely thrilled to see us.  In fact he said "I have always admired your mother."  Pretty cool, right?

We knew that Muriel had died and that some years ago, Dr. McQuilkin had remarried.  I hoped I could meet his second wife.  Although I was very excited about this, I decided to keep the anticipated visit a secret, and it was only the night before we were to be in Columbia that I told mother about the surprise.

Dr. McQuilkin met us in a Japanese garden that he has created in honor of Muriel with whom he had shared 12 years in missionary service, prior to his becoming the president of Columbia International University and then her illness.

He was eager to learn about my mother and her sisters, knew about our Aunt Thelma's death last Fall and told us about his children.  I remembered their prayer card that hung in my grandparents kitchen and my mother reminded me that it was Dr. McQuilkin who preached my grandma Nesmith's 1971 funeral.

I did get to meet Deb McQuilkin who has recently received her doctorate in nursing. I was disappointed that she could not join us for lunch, but I thoroughly enjoyed the time listening to my mother and Dr. McQuilkin chat. My mother reminded him that it was his father's preaching that was instrumental in her grandfather's conversion in 1946 or 47.

It was almost time for us to leave when I told him about an incident when mother's pastor had shared Dr. McQuilkin's story of commitment to his wife with the congregation at Mandarin Presbyterian Church and how a friend of hers pointed out a man in the MPC congregation who had done much the same thing.  That man is now one of my mother's dear friends.

I thought it was pretty neat that Dr. McQuilkin's story had been a part of my mother's life even today and I again said something about Finishing Well.  It was then that Dr. McQuilkin quietly told me about a letter he had received from a woman in California whose lived had been influenced by that little pink book A Promise Kept.

Two days later it dawned on me.  Dr. McQuilkin did not write Finishing Well.  Oh me.  What a faux pas.

But what a class act.  He never said "you have the wrong book".  He just found a way to tell me what he actually had written.  By the way, he's written countless other books and still takes occasional speaking engagements.

This day will certainly be one that both my mother and I remember.  If there is anything I have learned from my mother, it's to act on an idea when it comes to mind more than once.  I am so glad that I sent that email to Columbia International University and that the author of A Promise Kept took my mother and me to lunch.

Quite an experience!

Tomorrow "my cousins Debbie and Diane"

The Kitchen Band

Day One ends/Day Two begins

The afternoon ride took us to Augusta, Georgia where we visited my niece Leslie Williams Beck, her husband, Jason and their adorable little girls Taylor and Blakelie.  It was great to visit in their home and see where they work and play. 

After a good night's rest and some visiting time with Leslie, who is the daughter of my sister, Cindy, and her husband, Robert, we were on our way to Greenwood, South Carolina.

I was excited to drive across the Savannah River into North Augusta because as I mentioned on Day One, that little town holds special memories for me.  Leslie had told me to be sure to look over to my right as we crossed the river because that's where the Irish Travelers were making their home.  I wished I had time to investigate that (curious soul that I am) but have since done a little googling and found this an interesting group of people whom some would refer to as gypsies. 

No time for that...Must move on.

Our next stop was Wesley Commons in Greenwood, South Carolina.  That would be the home of Barbara Darrow, mother of the man I thought was the pastor of the church we visited on May 6.

"Aunt" Barbara has been our mother's dear friend since the mid fifties when our daddy became a Gideon.  The Gideons are the men who placed Bibles in hotels, motels, schools, hospitals, prisons...and my parents loved that ministry.  Mother was a member of the Auxiliary and in fact became an international officer and traveled all over the United States and to Canada as a speaker when a Gideon state convention was held.  Each year for about 10 years, we went to the international convention as our vacation and my sister, Cindy and I got to experience many fun and interesting adventures.

We met "Uncle" Dwayne and "Aunt" Barbara in about 1956 and spent many happy times with them.  "Uncle" Dwayne passed away some time ago and this was actually the second time that my mother visited "Aunt" Barbara at Wesley Commons.

That afternoon, I visited with Kathy Darrow Constant, sister of Rick who we had seen the day before while our mothers chatted.  That evening after supper, my mother and I joined Aunt Barbara when she went to her "Kitchen Band" Practice.

What a hoot.  Here were about 20 people who are residents at Wesley Common who get together to sing and play various instruments that are normally used in a kitchen.  Aunt Barbara had a cast iron skillet and a spoon, but there were various other pieces - a grater, spoons, a washboard, even a hand held beater.  We were there for a dress rehearsal for their next performance.  Their program consists of a trip around the world - including a jolly "Happy Wanderer" and "Waltzing Matilda"; Chopsticks", "Edleweiss" and "The Mexican Hat Dance" for starters.  It was such fun.  At the end of the evening when one of the gentleman ( a very young looking 78 year old fellow with a  beautiful voice) told the group that they had DVD's of a prior performance for sale for $5, I decided that was too good a deal to miss.

When I am "old", I thought as we walked back to Aunt Barbara's spacious apartment, I think I will come to Wesley Commons.  My children would like that:)

The second day of our trip came to an end.  Time to rest up.  Just before bedtime I shared a surprise with my mother.  Tomorrow we were going to have lunch with our family friend, Robertson McQuilkin in Columbia.  I thought she was going to float right out of the room.

Tomorrow was going to be good - It would be all about "A Promise Kept".

My childhood friend is your pastor

May 6, 2012

Departure time - 7:00 AM; Destination - a church in Savannah, Georgia; estimated time of arrival 10:30 AM which allowed for a breakfast stop in Brunswick.

The Cracker Barrel server was a nice Southern gal who cheerfully offered coffee as she took our order.

We of course had on our "Sunday clothes", so I was not surprised when I heard these words -

"You all on the way to church?"

When I responded yes, she said "would you pray for me?"

My mind went back to an experience I shared recently when I visited Renee and Wally.  As the server at a Carraba's was about to take our order, Renee said,

"In a few minutes we are going to ask the blessing and I was wondering - would you like for us to pray for you?"

The server that night was taken aback, but this server had no qualms answering me when I said "anything special you'd like us to pray about" and she told us that there is a Carraba's coming to Brunswick and she really needs a second job.

Good breakfast!

We arrived in Savannah well ahead of the appointed time and as we walked into the restroom, a lovely lady introduced herself to us and I told her that the pastor of the church was a childhood friend.

I didn't say Pastor Rick, even though my friend, the Reverend Rick Darrow and his wife, Patricia, were expecting us.  I hadn't seen him, however, since we were 13 and 15 years old.  I knew I was looking for a medium framed man whose red hair was now doused with silver.  Actually his sister, Kathy, had described him as "the same except for a few wrinkles".

As we walked into the sanctuary, a tall man with silver hair and a moustache approached us and said "Hello, I'm Pastor Bob".

Pastor Bob?

Oh me.  Were we in the wrong church?

"I'm a friend of Rick Darrow", I timidly said.

"He's teaching Sunday School," was Pastor Bob's response.

We chatted and in time a lovely woman approached us. 

"Are you Paula?"

The woman was Patricia Darrow.  We had never met.  After some explanation we learned that Rick had been the pastor at one time but that he is now an elder in the church.

When the service was over, Pastor Bob told me that the lady we had seen in the restroom had come "running" to him to tell him his childhood friend, Paula, was here and he had been perplexed trying to figure out who in the world had come to visit.

Moral of the story?  I don't think there is a moral.  I do think it was great to see my friend.  As we traveled on our way I had a question for my mother.

"Wonder why I didn't grow up and marry Rick Darrow?"  I remembered how kind and. protective he had always been when our families visited, going to the North Augusta A&W with "Ricky" and  Kathy and the fun we always shared.  And I remembered that once Rick had accidentally come into the room where I was dressing and I was "mortified".  To Rick it was probably not that big a deal, him having a sister and everything.  To me, however, I had no brothers and I felt so embarrassed.

Funny, how that innoucous experience has remained a part of my memory bank - something that still makes me blush a little.

As we drove across the state of Georgia and began to see signs - "Georgia Southern University",  I remembered how much my son, Tray, wanted to go to college there and I imagined him saying to me -
"Wonder what my life would be like if I had been able go to Georgia Southern?"

And my answer would be the same that my mother's was to me when I asked about marrying Rick Darrow

Oh my - just look what you would have missed!

(Note to Rick - this does not mean that I do not think you would have been a "good catch")

Next stop - Augusta

Were the shadows worth it?

My mother and I just returned from a seven day, 1,135 miles trip through Georgia and South Carolina.

The idea came about when mother and I were returning from a 24-four hour "turn around" to Tampa where we visited my daughter, Renee, and her family (husband, Wally and two girls, Abbie and Allie).

"Now don't be putting this on Facebook," I told her, "but I was thinking we might take a trip to see our South Carolina family and friends".

My participation in the Duval County Medical Society project was almost done.  I was going to spend the month of May thinking, praying, asking questions, writing -  hoping to determine what at might be going to unfold for the next phase of my life.  My mother had weathered the Tampa trip well.  So I put out a few feelers to see what our potential hosts would think of our coming to see them.

The response was positive and I began to plan the trip - an adventure that is  now history.

May 6  - Our first stop was Savannah when we worshipped with one of my special childhood friends, Rick Darrow and his lovely wife, Patricia. 

May 12 - Our last stop was Savannah where we spent the night at a Best Western and my mother got to go to The Lady and Her Sons. 

With Savannah as the books ends - I have many stories to tell.

Lots of sunshine with just a few shadows.

My plan was to blog about this trip every day, but the conversation was just too good to miss, besides one of my best assets is my "rememberer".  I knew I could recount almost every chat and experience when I got home.  So I left my laptop zippered in its canvas cover.

What a compliment when I arrived at my cousin, Ken's to hear  - "I thought you were going to blog every day".  Well I was, but you know what they say "the best laid plans...".

And still "the best laid plans...".

We have been home for three days - 72 hours that have been filled with washing, ironing, trying on some of the fabulous hand me downs I got from my aunt and cousin and putting everything away when right in the middle of those little interruptions.

A HUGE interruption.

Tuesday, May 15 - Lunch time - and suddenly - the lightening flashed and the thunder clapped.  It was a millisecond I'm sure.  When I returned to the computer, no Internet connection.  The next 24 hours included my scouring over the AT&T U-verse manual and several telephone conversations with my AT&T U-verse-brilliant brother in law - no solution.

Talk about a SHADOW.

But a nice man named Terry came and now the SUN SHINES (at least in my heart) as I am finally getting down to business to share some of our adventures.  Starting tomorrow (May 17) we'll take a trip through time (first installment acutally happened on May 6) and I'll share some stories.  You can decide for yourself -

Was our 1,135 mile trip - filled with sunshine or were there shadows? And were the shadows worth it?