I didn’t expect to see his picture in the obituaries this morning. The paper said he’d passed away Friday, October 24 at Christus Schumpert Highland Hospital. I didn’t know he was in the hospital–it might have been sudden. I don’t know.
The last email I had from him was on Oct 5th, which ended with two quotations. The first, very serious, as our lives are in times like these:
Americanism means the virtues of courage, honor, justice, truth, sincerity, and hardihood — the virtues that made America. – Theodore Roosevelt, 1917
The second, sure to bring a smile to your face, a Burma Shave jingle from 1950:
A whiskery kiss
For the one
May not make her mad
But her face will be sore
His email concerned an up-coming Centenary Writers Club meeting on 10 Oct, which was going to be my last chance to see him in this world. But I missed it — my loss.
Our lives just briefly touched each other in the Centenary Writers Club and the few emails we exchanged. I definitely got most out of that relationship.
His wit and humor were always sharp. I used to read his writings from our meetings to Cindy after I got home.
He played basketball for the LSU-Baton Rouge Tigers from 1953-1958. Retired after 30 years of being a Senior Research Chemist for Pennzoil Products. He was a member of Broadmoor United Methodist Church, the Sons of the American Revolution, Shreveport Writers Club, and Centenary Writers Club. He authored two books, Hubcaps Biscuits and Corncob Wars and Hominy Ridge.
I wished I’d known him longer. But I’m thankful for the little time our lives did over-lap. I can’t help but thinking of the brief experience as something like a Burma-Shave advertisement metaphor. For the very young, they were like mini-billboards along the old highways. Five or six signs and the last one always said “Burma-Shave.”
I read his writings, I smiled, and I’m better for it.
Thanks for the jingle, Troy. You’re missed by many.