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Christmas is that time of year to count our
blessings, those things God has given us for which we are thankful.
There’s our health, no matter how badly we may feel at times it
could be worse. There’s
prosperity, regardless if the bank account may be short, it could be
shorter. There’s a warm
house on a cold day. A
tasty meal when we’re hungry. There is another blessing we easily over look.
The presence and company of friends.
Friendship enriches our lives more then we realize. At times when we feel depressed and blue, a
visit or a phone call from a friend can change the world again. Now even an email can do it.
Sometimes even recalling the face or words of a friend can renew
our spiritual energy. Someone
said we are lucky if we can count our friends on the fingers of one
hand. That’s ridiculous. No one should be that demanding to test our friends.
They are there. We accept them. It is hard to recall every friend whose presence
has brightened our lives. Each
brings back a memory of something. There was Neal Clark, Jr., who was a friend of
50 years ago and I’ll never forget him.
We were college classmates and worked together at a newspaper.
Being the hothead I was, I got mad at quit my job at a weekly
newspaper, forgetting I had a young bride to support.
Neal offered to make my car payments until I got on my feet.
I didn’t accept but never forgot the offer—or his friendship
and very presence when I felt low. Jacques Zinman is a special friend.
When I worked with him at his Lakes Insurance Agency in Florida,
he said one day he would give me the “shirt off his back.”
He did, literally. His
friendship enriched my life more than I can say.
He is now suffering from kidney failure.
I offered to donate one of my kidneys to him, but his secretary
said his heart wasn’t strong enough to handle the transplant.
If I had two hearts, I would certainly give him one of those. When Gaines Hobbs was executive assistant to
then Mayor Gene Roberts, his office in City Hall was like an oasis of
intellect and refreshing thoughts.
He always seemed to make time for conversation and exchange of
ideas. At the time I was still hooked on nicotine, difficult to go
long without a cigarette. There
was no smoking in the building. On
a sunny day Gaines went with me out to sit on the front steps where I
would smoke and we could continue our conversation. It is a pleasure to be in the company of Lee
Stoller and his wife, Cristy Lane.
She has a genuine warmth and love of people that translates into
her song. I have seen her
cry with compassion over the pain she saw in others.
Lee should be called the Unsinkable Stoller.
He rises above problems with a buoyancy that is amazing. An inspiration to anyone who has suffered pain and loss, he
is an example of survival against all odds.
On top of it, he brings to any conversation or group a sense of
humor that begins with a twinkle in his eye as if he knows something
amusing and interesting he is going to share with you. A conversation with Bart Crattie is stimulating.
He is well read, intelligent and knowledgeable on many subjects.
A verbal trip with him through history, politics or social
behavior is a pleasure. Joe
Cheek is a born adversary in any discussion.
If you are a Republican, he will take the Democratic cause.
He can be a chameleon to swiftly change sides—and prod his
adversary to see what he or she really believes. Tom Stanfield—or Peanut as he is better
known—is a delight when you’re in his presence.
His wit at 81 is still sharp, almost as sharp as his sense of
humor. He is getting deaf
now and I must nearly shout when we’re together at the VFW. Strangers visiting the post watch with amusement, like they
see Laurel and Hardy reenacting a routine. I never see enough of Bill Casteel, usually only
when Dalton Roberts is playing some music at VFW 4848 or when I see him
occasionally at the Blue Tick lunches.
Bill is the only one I still know who remembers what a flatbed
press is, that it was made to print newspapers, not press clothes.
Not many old newspaper people around any more. Kimra Traynor Herb comes up sometimes from her
home in Birmingham for an all too brief lunch.
She is the epitome of intellectual vitality. This transmits into her newspaper columns which are rapid
fire accounts of her daily life. Her
presence, the ever present smile and the enthusiasm can regenerate
anyone. When he comes into a room, you know Bill Bennett
is there. He seems to bring
a glow of humanity with him. Someone
meeting Bill for the first time might well wonder if anyone could be as
good a man as Bill seems to be. There
is a man that good. That
man is Bill Bennett. It is hard to imagine how I got through so many
years of my life without knowing Dalton Roberts and being able to call
him friend. Maybe God, in
His wisdom, said we weren’t ready until we had enough life behind us.
Regardless, he has enriched my life beyond measure.
He can preach a sermon that could make you cry or tell a joke to
make you blush. Being with
him opens your mind to caverns of thoughts and curiosity you didn’t
know were there. You even find out things about yourself.
He is a good listener. My
belief has always been all a preacher or psychologist has to do is be a
good listener. We know our
problems, just need to say it out loud.
People don’t want advice, just a listener.
Dalton has listened to many people in his lifetime, and continues
with compassionate patience. It would take a book the size of War and Peace
to scratch the surface of friends who have given me so much, so much
more than I could ever give in return.
I can only thank God to have been blessed with them, and to wish
God’s blessings on all of them.
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