Hayter article for January 23, 2022
“A family of country western songwriters.”
This evening, immediately after supper, I was sitting in my favorite chair staring at the wall across the room. A lot of thoughts can surface while staring at nothing. Kay was reading a novel while in her comfy chair when I remarked, “I didn’t think about Mom or Dad today, and I’m not sure I did yesterday.”
Kay must not have been enjoying her book, because she responded. “I’ll go days without thinking of my folks.” Her response caused me to feel better about myself. I said, “Good grief, we don’t even have kids. When we’re gone nobody will think of us.” Kay replied, “Sweety, I hate to tell you this, but nobody’s thinking about us right now.” – Obviously, you are thinking about us at this very moment, and I appreciate that.
Anyway, after Kay’s remark, my mind captured the thought of all the copies I saved from “Our Family Newsletter” written and published by my kid sister, Jill. That girl saved a bunch of history for our family. I’ve got the 1990 folder right here. This stuff is 32 years old. I’ve looked at the January through March newsletters, but, oddly enough, the first thing I saw was a letter that Al wrote Jill back on December 6, 1983. I had forgotten that Jill saved all her letters throughout the years and included one in each newsletter.
There are two spooky things about this particular letter she got from youngest, Big Al. For one thing, Big Al rarely writes letters. And, his phone texts usually contain no more than three words. The second oddity is that the first article I looked at was one about Al letting Jill know something he remembered about the both of them. Al’s letter reads:
“Jill, You know when we were little stupid kids. I mean when you were a little stupid kid and I was just a little kid? We never dreamed that all those bad moments, days, weeks, and months that we had together would ever be good times. Back then they were only bad times.
“But now they’re good times forever. Because now we have those good times to look back on and say we were together a long time. We were brother and sister. We have those old memories and pleasant thoughts forever. Love ya. Big Al.”
I doubt Al remembers writing the letter, but I’m sure he remembers how important Jill was to him when they were kids. Sure, it would’ve been better had Al written to me, but it still shows how some events need time to age, before they can be seen in a better light.
While I remember events in some of Jill’s newsletter stories, the details were lost. I recall Cheryl running several long-distance races, but I didn’t remember the Tenneco Marathon of 1990. Jill wrote that Cheryl's time was 3 hours 45 minutes 17 seconds”. That’s 23 continuous nine-minute miles.
During Jill’s interview, Cheryl talked about how encouraging the spectators were along the route. “You’re doing good #448! Keep it up!” People didn’t know her from Eve, but they acted like family. Cheryl said that she once slowed to help a man whose foot was bleeding. She said, “What can I do?” The man said, “Keep going!”
At the 19-mile mark, Cheryl was pretty much played out, but the crowd just kept encouraging her. At the 22 mile mark, a guy named John Hicks came out of the crowd and started running next to her, all the while, calmly offering encouragement. With the finish line in sight, Hicks stepped to the side and joined the onlookers. So many nice people.
I don’t know where John Hicks is today, but I doubt he realizes this particular moment of kindness that he displayed 32 years ago. I imagine he’s added a few thousand similar moments of kindness. By the way, ten months later Cheryl ran in the 1990 San Antonio Marathon, beating her time by 17 minutes, thus qualifying her for the Boston Marathon.
My last family story has to do with the Country Western Songwriting Contest that Jill organized for March 16, 1990. I don’t remember this event. Kay doesn’t either. And she won the thing! She wrote, “Workin’ Mama”. It’s about a working mother with three demanding kids and a jerk for a husband. Keep in mind that Kay and I have no kids, so it’s a fantasy. --The chorus: “Three kids to feed. My life’s in a rut. I’m trying to do it all, and you’re sitting on your butt.”
There was a five-way tie for second place. My nephew Tommy, wrote: “Payin’ all my Bills”, sung to the tune of “Margaritaville.” I thought he nailed it.
Dardon Ann, Dennis’ wife, wrote: “The Best Oklahoma Had to Offer”. It was about how terrific Dennis is. The last part of the chorus goes, “He makes my life a little softer, and oh, whatta pretty face.” -- Give me a break!
Mom penned “You Promised Me Forever.” It was another woman-done-wrong song. Elsie wasn’t writing about Faris. She just liked the Dixie Chicks. I am too, but I chose to write about the scorn of a woman. I came up with “Your Tail in a Crack”. I didn’t win, because the song was too sad.
Jill wrote: “I’ll Love You Till the Cows Come Home.” It was applicable at the time. Unfortunately, Jill’s husband was the judge. Without telling him the names of the authors, she read all of the song lyrics to him. He picked Kay’s song, the one that really should’ve kicked him in the butt.
Just thing, Jill has preserved several hundred memories, for our family. I’ve barely touched the surface. I fear some of ‘em may not be quite so uplifting. You’ll find that in everyone’s history. Except for Mom, of course.
end
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