Bowdoin Group Collegiate Challenge II
A group of Bowdoin students made a similar trip last year, and, of those who did so, three individuals had such a great time and rewarding experience that they chose to return to Pontotoc once more. After the group had left, I began browsing through some old pictures on my computer and found a photo of the students who participated in the work effort last year. I was surprised to note the three returning volunteers, Will, Tim, and Steve were seated together. Just as with the group from last year, there were twelve volunteers, all students at Bowdoin College. There were seven young men and five young women. And, as the students the prior year had done, these flew into Memphis, rented two vans, drove to Pontotoc, and spent their nights at By Faith Baptist Church. The more-adventurous of the group slept under the stars in the Prayer Garden on the grounds at By Faith. Customarily, with groups of manageable numbers, I strive to learn everyone’s name before the end of the week. Somehow, I learned all twelve names but differentiating Will and Tim, as well as Claire and Callie was sometimes challenging. John, Steve, Luke, Christian, Alex, Kate, Sarah, and Rhysly came to mind with greater ease. Barbara struggled throughout the week to master pronouncing Rhysly, which phonetically is Resley and rhymes with Wesley. She wanted to use the ‘h’ and kept saying Wresh-ly. However, by Saturday, she had it down pat. A writer himself, Steve, asked me Sunday afternoon shortly after arrival, if I were still publishing my newsletter and, if I were, did I intend to share some recent issues. I printed four or five recent issues and dropped them off that night. The next evening Steve and others shared their enjoyment of the jokes they’d read, but said nothing of my ability to spin a story. No one, except Alex, that is. Alex expressed amazement in my consistency and the volume of material. Alex’s name didn’t seem to fit him, as his features distinguish him as oriental. Trying to get to know him better, one evening at dinner, I asked about his family and learned his parents are Irish. Seeing my surprise, he quickly explained he was adopted from a Korean orphanage at age three months. The Bowdoin students were an energetic bunch, playing volleyball with church members at Cairo Baptist Church, Sunday evening and on Friday night closing down Java John’s with an extended Karaoke session. They trekked to Oxford one night to watch a movie and were impressed with Square Books, which Steve described as the best book store he’d ever seen. They spent a day in Memphis, seeing the sights of Beale Street and visiting the Civil Rights Museum. They sported grand appetites for our Southern food and enjoyed five nights of church-provided meals that offered a great variety of entrées, vegetables, and desserts and enjoyed a sixth evening at our house. Ryan Fuoss had arranged for all the evening meals through Friday, except for Wednesday the group’s day off and was caught off guard when the group announced early in the week they would like to stay over Saturday night, too. When Barbara shared this concern with me, I told her to tell Ryan we’d feed the group Saturday night. Originally, I had hoped to enlist Lee Gordon of RRN Fish Fry fame to serve fried catfish and hushpuppies to the group. Lee really wanted to but had family from out of town staying at his house on the night I needed him. I immediately went to Plan B and decided to treat everyone to grilled hamburgers, barbecue pork, and rotisserie chicken. I also obtained a commitment from my sister for a caramel cake and a large bowl of potato salad. Initially, Barbara and I planed to feed as many as nineteen, but when our daughter called to see about coming over Saturday evening our ranks swelled to twenty-five. When Rayanne arrived, she directed her creative talent to preparing stuffed strawberries that were by all accounts, awesome. Timing three different meats to be ready for serving, all at the same time, proved a bit of a challenge, even for me, as tending two grills and a rotisserie so demonstrated. I was glad that my son-in-law arrived in time to grill the two dozen hamburgers and freed me to chop up the pork steaks and cut the chickens into portions for serving. Barbara and I prepared two freezers of homemade ice cream on Friday, the traditional banana split version as well as a special concoction for St. Patrick’s Day, green vanilla. Actually, I forgot about needing bananas and in telling Barbara what all I had put in the banana split ice cream remembered I did not include the bananas. Thus, it was banana-less banana split ice cream. Other desserts included Glenda Corley’s Angel Food cake, Sara Sue’s caramel cake with one green-tinted layer, and Barbara’s chess pies.
Steve, whom Barbara had supplied with the recipe for chess pie last year, responded, "All you have to do is ask." "Which recipes do you need?" I asked. "All of them," Sarah stated. As of today, we haven’t put anything together for Sarah, but we will. Following supper, Ryan herded everyone into the living room, where he, Bro. Joe, and Barbara conducted the closing ceremony. As ceremonies go, this one was perhaps a bit more light-hearted than most. There were moments of honest reflection that produced a teary eye or two, but our youngest granddaughter, Katherine, brought tears of laughter. Just as Steve was waxing philosophical, Katherine emitted an extended yawn, breaking the seriousness of the moment and from which Steve never fully recovered. I would have enjoyed spending a longer evening with the Bowdoin students, feeding on their energy, intellect, and laughter, but as their plans were to leave Pontotoc at four o’clock Sunday morning to drive to the Memphis airport, I could not, in good conscious, ask them to stay longer. Anyway, there’s a possibility some of this group will return on a similar mission next spring. Back to back weeks of Collegiate Challenge helped advance the construction of the newest Habitat build from a bare foundation to a house with shingles, internal walls, and partially wrapped in vinyl siding. With good weather and another volunteer group coming next week, there’s a good chance the homeowners will be in their new house in May. See Additional photos at Flickr
Ashley’s Accident Got Me Out Of Church Because Barbara has to wait on parents to pick up their four-year-olds from her Sunday School classroom, before she can make her way to the morning worship service, it’s not unusual for my wife to arrive "at church" later than most. Last Sunday she was later than normal, as she slipped beside me on the fifth pew. "Anna called," she whispered. "Ashley fell in the bathroom this morning and hit his head. He’s got a brain bleed, and they are air-lifting him to Tupelo right now. Do we need to go on over?" "No," I responded, automatically. When I process information requiring me to make a decision on the spur of the moment, I often assess the situation and determine if it’s something I can control or influence. My brain quickly ruled out a need for direct intervention on my part, telling me something like, "You’re not a doctor, paramedic, or a helicopter pilot. He’s in the hands of professionals, and you can’t do a thing to help him." I tend to forget that while I can’t help in a direct way with the needs of a patient or victim, there are family members who need support. In the next few moments, as we stood to greet fellow church members and sing, I gained additional information from my wife and had time to consider other aspects of the situation, which in this case seemed to be my granddaughter’s distress that her dad might be seriously injured. Barbara and I decided to slip out of our pew the next time the congregation stood to sing. Little did we realize how long that would be, as the Minister of Music seemed content to allow the congregation to remain seated through two songs and until the final stanza of the offertory hymn. Noticing Ashley’s brother and sister-in-law in the middle section of the congregation, Barbara stated, "I doubt that Chris has heard anything." I was still trying to piece together the series of events that had transpired, which Barbara briefly shared: hospital, kidney pain, fall, head injury, hospital, ambulance, brain bleed, and helicopter. "We’ll exit the middle aisle, and I’ll check with Chris," I explained. There’s no inconspicuous way to leave a church service, even if one is seated by the back door. Even with the congregation standing and with ushers coming down the aisles in preparation of receiving the offering, others are going to notice anything out of the ordinary. My guess is church members believed either Barbara or me had taken sick and needed the assistance of whichever one wasn’t ill. I’m sure they had to rethink the situation when they saw me talking to Chris and watched as he and Rebecca followed us out of the sanctuary. As we walked toward my car, the sounds of a helicopter idling at the local hospital added a sense of urgency that I had not previously felt. As we drove toward Tupelo, Barbara shared in greater detail what all had happened. Ashley had awakened about six o’clock, suffering with pain due to a kidney stone. He had passed out in the bathroom and struck his head on the tile floor. The emergency room physician at Pontotoc Hospital determined that Ashley had what is described medically as "a brain bleed" and arranged for transport to Tupelo. Only after we talked to family members at the hospital in Tupelo did we learn why the helicopter was used. All available ambulances were in use, already. Barbara had learned of Ashley’s accident through the actions of someone’s guardian angel. Barbara almost never takes a purse to church, and when she does, she turns off her cell phone. Yet, last Sunday she had taken her purse to her Sunday School room and failed to turn off her phone. Thus, Anna was able to contact her. Anna asked Barbara to locate Ashley’s step-mother, Sandy, and relay what had happened to Ashley. Barbara was late getting to our church service because she took the time to walk to our gym where another service was in process and get Sandy. Barbara and I got to the emergency room in Tupelo before most family members and found Ashley being examined by a doctor. The report was encouraging, in that he was free of kidney-stone pain and, other than a severe headache, the blow to the back of his head was not deemed as serious as first suspected. However, he would be kept overnight for observation and a second CT Scan the next day. It wasn’t long until several more family members arrived, so Barbara and I walked back to the waiting room to allow other well-wishers the opportunity to see Ashley. Shortly after noon, we said our goodbyes to Ashley and his family and traveled back to Pontotoc. As expected, a friend had left a message on our phone’s voicemail asking what had happened. Another friend phoned an hour or so later and expressed similar concern. Ashley’s second CT Scan and report turned out okay. He was dismissed Monday morning and told to get plenty of rest and to expect bad headaches for the next several days. Ashley is well on his way to a full recovery from a life-threatening accident.
Bodock Beau More North Vs. South We are not trying to start a fight with our northern friends, but sometimes it’s good to reflect on regional differences, especially when we can laugh at ourselves. Thanks go to Ken Gaillard for sharing these: The North has Bloomingdales, the South has Dollar General. The North has coffee houses, the South has Waffle Houses. The North has dating services, the South has family reunions. The North has switchblade knives; the South has Lee Press-on Nails. The North has double last names; the South has double first names. The North has Indy car races; the South has stock car races. The North has Cream of Wheat, the South has grits. The North has green salads, the South has collard greens. The North has lobsters, the South has crawfish. The North has the rust belt, the South has the Bible Belt. For Northerners Moving South
In the South - If you run your car into a ditch, don't panic. Four men in
a four-wheel drive pickup truck with a tow chain will be along shortly. Don't
try to help them, just stay out of their way. This is what they live for.
Remember, "y'all" is proper English, "all y'all" is plural, and "all y'all's" is plural possessive Get used to hearing "Y'all ain't from round here, are ya?" Save all manner of bacon grease. You will be instructed later on how to use it. Don't be worried at not understanding what people are saying. They can't understand you either. The first Southern statement to creep into a transplanted Northerner's vocabulary is the adjective "big 'ol," truck or big 'ol" boy. Most Northerners begin their Southern-influenced dialect this way. All of them are in denial about it. The proper pronunciations you learned in school is no longer proper. Be advised that "He needed killin'." is a valid defense here. If you hear a Southerner exclaim, "Hey, y'all, watch this", you should stay out of the way. These are likely to be the last words he'll ever say. If there is the prediction of the slightest chance of even the smallest accumulation of snow, your presence is required at the local grocery store. It doesn't matter whether you need anything or not. You just have to go there. Do not be surprised to find that 10-year olds own their own shotguns, they are proficient marksmen, and their mamas taught them how to aim. In the South, we have found that the best way to grow a lush green lawn is to pour gravel on it and call it a driveway.
And remember: If y'all do settle in the South and bear children, don't think
we will accept them as Southerners. After all, if the cat had kittens in
the oven, we wouldn't call 'em biscuits. Copyright © 2000 - 2007 RRN Online.
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Another group of Habitat volunteers
responded to Collegiate Challenge and were in Pontotoc last week helping
construct the thirtieth house built by the local affiliate of Habitat for
Humanity, International. This group came from Bowdoin College in Brunswick
Maine. Bowdoin College is a private college, catering to students interested
in a degree in Liberal Arts or Science, where tuition, room and board may
exceed forty-three thousand dollars per year.
Sarah of Bowdoin paid perhaps the
highest food compliment of the evening if not the week, "I’d kill for
the recipes."
