By Garland O. Goodwin

I need to get this sent in before someone else leaves this earth! With five to remember, I cannot write much about any one of them.

Iola Brock was the wife of Marion, who opened a very successful Brock’s Cleaners when we already had Rector’s. He also had a small troupe of “Music Makers” who gave local musicians opportunities to perform and get paid. Iola was always busy in their home, helping to raise some additional interesting characters.
She collected all the bears etc. that daughter June sent to her from Hallmark. They filled a bedroom. I bet June will enjoy having her Mom’s collection of her life’s work now.

Son Robert used to bring Iola to TJ’s for breakfast sometimes when the remnant of Aunt Mildred’s “The Girls” met there after Hardee’s closed in Columbus. We always shared banter between tables. And I miss son Bill’s visits to McDonald’s with wife Donna, often joined by her parents.
Bunny Beatson was a regular at the Historical Association meetings when I was president. I later found her at White Oak, and I generally took copies of my columns in large print when I went to visit. She seemed to have a really good handle on “everyday life,” and could sum up any situation with a few well-chosen words. Wishy-washy she was not!
Heinie White was also at White Oak, and he had a fine old grandfather clock in his room. It ticked softly, and chimed melodiously every quarter hour, followed by strong chords counting off the hour with gusto. He had already retired when I discovered him, so he could not work on my double-dial calendar clock that I inherited from my grandfather Goodwin. My clock is smarter than our modern wristwatches, that give every month 31 days unless re-set. It even gives February 29 days in leap years!

 

 

Heinie used to have his clock shop under Owen’s, and when the town repaved the sidewalk, he put a penny in the new concrete at his door. Not there now! But I did go over and check.

 

Sarah Egerton was another of those real Southern ladies, “to the manner born,” with more than a touch of class. I met her grandson Jim (who also died recently) at the Garden Shop before he married Angie and fathered Samantha. Fran discovered in an old Our State magazine that Samantha was sent to “Manners Camp” in 2012, so she is being trained to carry on her great-gramma’s cultural traditions. We have been getting regular pictorial “Samantha-grams” from Angie for years.

 

I have written about Jean Howell, sang the Christmas carols under her loving direction at Tuba Christmas, listened as she played in a little band at a Columbus event. In short, I have availed myself of any opportunity to share music or just talk with her.
It was Jean who led the audience in singing the Christmas carols after the assembled tubas and baritones had played them for us. She would put her hands up to alert us, and then have to watch the bandleader as well as listen to get us going and keep us in sync. She did all of this with total aplomb, sailing through anything unexpected that happened. She also sat at the Steinway concert grand and provided a thoughtful and caring accompaniment to the tuba player who had won the honor of a solo performance at Tuba Christmas.

 

All of the above fellow travelers along our road of life filled a warm place in our hearts that will always be there. A survivor once told me that “A man lives as long as someone remembers him.” We may lament the loss of our friends, who take so much knowledge and experience to the grave with them. But we who remember have the privilege of sharing what we remember of their legacy with the next generation. So be it.