Longing for your voices, just one more time

Isn’t it something how time has a way of simply slipping right on by?

Growing up in Barnwell more often than not, the old ladies (most likely in their early forties) would say over and over, “The older you get, the faster time passes.” Mercy, but they were telling the truth! Now at eight decades plus one year, life’s slope has become a reality in comparison to an Olympic skier having launched from the hillsides of Lillehammer. 2022 took flight all too soon; far too quickly.

Interestingly enough, this quote from Billy Graham suffices: “I was speaking at a university, and afterward the students were invited to ask questions. I’ll never forget the question one student asked: ‘What has been the biggest surprise of your life?’ Almost without thinking, I replied, “The brevity of life.”

So here we are January 2023, refusing to accept the fact that the count of our birthday candles will curtail some of our adventures going forward. Let’s be positive while leaning heavily upon our faith and taking one day at a time. I choose to pray without ceasing, giving thanks for almost everything. William Lyon Phelps captured my personal zest for life when writing: “Grow old eagerly, triumphantly.”

Ever so recently, far too many of my personal family/friends have made their exits from this place. Their absence has taken a toll upon my heart. You see…we were so close that we actually took the time to call one another and talk on our phones. The very sound of their voices afforded me a certain level of comfort as if I had been handed a huge dose of warmth, of caring, of understanding and of love all rolled into one. Our voices talked, our ears listened while our hearts were soothed knowing full well someone cared. They cared enough to pick up that phone and call.

What I wouldn’t give to hear the voices of these loved ones just one more time. For instance:

ETTA HOLLAND MIXON

(November 17, 1939 - October 13, 2021)

BHS Class of ’57

Whenever my phone rang close to midnight, I felt certain that my older sister was on the line. You see, our Mama, Hettie Holland, must’ve gifted both of us with her sleep habits: no more than six hours of sleep per night unless sick. Oh, we did talk pronto when something important occurred during the daylight hours; however, most of our conversations took place at that bewitching hour.

We eagerly covered Barnwell’s news of the day much like the morning dew. Our chats were personal while sharing childhood memories that only we two sisters would know: the time Mama and Daddy took us to Columbia to pick up two Boston bull puppies which we promptly named Spick ‘N’span; swimming at the river and catching turtles to send to Epworth Orphanage in Columbia plus Etta’s forever rehashing of the highlights of her beloved Clemson football games while I listened patiently refusing to comment one way or the other. How she enjoyed seeing her former first grade students who had entered the workforce and still loved “Miss Mixon”! Mostly, our conversations made me think of the game show Jeopardy: “What was the girl’s name?”, “Where did that take place?”

I do miss the sound of her southern drawl especially after midnight followed by her Tibby Plyler signoff, “Tootles.”

JANE OWENS BRADLEY

(February 28, 1933 - September 13, 2022)

BHS Class of ’52

And what a pal she was! When our friend departed this world, she took way too many secrets with her.

Early on, Jane knew how to make everyone else feel welcome, especially children. In later years we became sidekicks who truly loved life while enjoying it together …to the hilt! Oh, it wasn’t always “what” she said simply because this lady had a way of rolling her eyes which sized-up her opinions to a tee without cracking her teeth. This one gesture was a tell-all talent that everyone anticipated and thoroughly enjoyed unless you were the brunt of the joke! Then wide grins were followed by uncontrollable giggles!

Some of our phone talks may begin on a heavy note, but forever ended in bursts of wicked laughter. Both of us could always joke about our own selves which reminded us not to take life itself too seriously. Our closeness made life happier for both. My heart actually tugs at the mention of her name.

Sometimes I briefly forget her absence while reaching for the phone to call her. I long to hear Jane’s voice just one more time. Don’t you?

TOMMY "TOOMIE" BURTON

(September 5, 1940 - October 10, 2022)

BHS Class of ’60

We were classmates and his closest friend in school was Richard Strange, an avid golfer. It was our Toomie who would caddy for him at Sweetwater Country Club while rendering sound advice and calming his friend’s anxieties during the stresses of the game.

Toomie told me years ago that he prayed for our classmates every day of his life. At this point, I began to follow his lead.

Our phone conversations centered around our classmates, our families, our Young at Heart traveling group and certainly our Lord. His uplifting and reassuring voice would be appreciated right about now, wouldn’t it? How I miss my “Toomie”.

TAYLOR BERNARD JR.

(December 13, 1938 - July 2, 2022)

BHS Class of ’57

His booming, smiling voice over the phone would snatch anyone out of the dumps and set their pulse racing while he recalled his heartwarming Barnwell days. In doing so, he never failed to express his devoted love for our dear friend, Tommie Richardson.

Taylor was always good-natured, an excellent dancer, and a gentleman who forever made his partner shine. (He would shimmy those big broad shoulders while wearing the broadest grin you ever laid your eyes on. Did this make me blush? Sho’ nuff!) What I wouldn’t give to hear his Barnwell tales repeated once again regarding our excellent school system including those dedicated coaches and teachers.

Taylor’s conversations always ended on a happy positive note. Do yours?

BETTY ANN SMITH BROWN

(October 12, 1927 - November 16, 2022)

A teacher at BHS before becoming their attendance teacher for many years.

Last, but certainly not least, phone calls from Betty Ann Brown after 8:30 p.m. (following her nightly talks with son, Forrest) were always delightful. When her name appeared on my phone, anticipation reached an all-time high.

For a 95-year-old lady, her memory and alertness made me eager to spend time with her on the phone or when visiting at Anchor in Aiken. Her voice sounded strong and deliberate, and once she said something, you knew that she meant it. Her opinions were forever honest and sometimes too honest!

This former teacher’s sense of humor was always current and upbeat. She chose to look on the bright side, thus leading her listeners to follow suit. As our friend Jim McNeely, BHS Class of ’58, asked, “Was there ever anyone who did not love Betty Ann Brown?”

Could there ever be a finer note to end on? She is dearly missed.

As you have possibly surmised, there was a common thread connecting all of the above friendships. It was our Barnwell school days linking one to the other; however, it was no run-of-the-mill thread. Oh no. It was a golden thread which would last each of us an entire lifetime.

If you aren’t jealous because you did not grow up in Barnwell, I don’t know why.

The next time you decide to contact your friends or family, please consider placing a phone call instead of texting. This will make us all feel more loved, more appreciated.

Besides, someday you, too, will long for the sound of our voices … just one more time.