Wedding Day
June 9, 2007
It wasn’t the wedding
of the century; it wasn’t even the biggest wedding ever held at First
Baptist Church. However, it was an attention getter, and it was perhaps the
most beautiful one I’ve seen.
For me, the wedding and the reception were the best parts of my entire Saturday.
Jason and I were slated to be at a groom’s brunch in Tupelo at ten
o’clock that morning, and I had determined there was sufficient time
for me to get up and get ready for the brunch and still have time to drop
off newsletters at the five locations, that form my routine on most Saturday
mornings.
Our house phone rang at precisely eight o’clock, and Rayanne answered
it. I was busy on my laptop computer trying to determine the best route to
the location of the groom’s brunch.
"Daddy, do you have any jumper cables?" Rayanne asked. "Felicia wants to
know."
I’ve been known to leave home without my glasses, my cell phone, and
my upper partial dental appliance, but there are two things I’m seldom
without, namely, fingernail clippers and jumper cables. I break more nails
than a woman-bricklayer, and I’ve had enough bad batteries of yesteryear
to know I don’t want to be on the road without battery booster cables.
Rayanne relayed the message that jumper cables were in my car, hung up the
phone, and turned to state, "Felicia needs you to take them down there."
Somehow, I didn’t envision my involvement beyond supplying the cables.
"I don’t have time to go down there," I wailed. "I’m only partly
dressed, haven’t fixed my hair, and I need to leave here a little after
nine."
Felicia and her bridesmaid friend, Taylor Cook of South Carolina, were waiting
on me. I raised the hood on Sarah’s car, which was parked beside
Felicia’s car, and hooked up the cables. Felicia turned the ignition
key but nothing happened. Taylor cranked Sarah’s car and left it running
to give the battery hookup a higher boost. Still, the engine of Felicia’s
car would not turn over. After about five or ten minutes, I gave up when
vapors began to rise above the dead battery.
"Do you have alternate transportation?" I asked.
"What?" she yelled, above the noise of the car adjacent.
"Is there another vehicle you can use to get wherever it is you’re trying
to go?"
"We can use Taylor’s, but Cullen and I are going to Memphis tonight
in my car."
"Well, I think you need a new battery," I continued.
"Where’s Anson?" Felicia asked, hoping Rayanne’s husband would
soon be in Pontotoc.
"He’s working this morning in Belmont."
"Don’t worry with it, Uncle Wayne," Felicia suggested, "I’ll see
if Don Russell can help."
Knowing Felicia didn’t have a lot of free time on her wedding day, I
told her I’d try to get in touch with John Williams. I packed up my
jumper cables and headed back to the house, where I tried, unsuccessfully,
to phone John Williams for the next half-hour. Rapidly running out of time,
I phoned Felicia to check with her.
"Brad Henry said he’d take care of it, and he’s on his way over
there, now," she informed me.
"A saint among men," I thought. "Brad has saved the day!"
Jason and I left our house shortly after nine o’clock, on our way to
gas up before driving to Tupelo.
"I want to pick up some guitar strings at the Consignment Store after the
brunch," Jason commented.
Once more, I had to adjust my schedule to accommodate someone else, and I
wondered if I would still have time after the brunch to deliver a few newsletters
prior to being at the church for wedding pictures at 1:40 p.m.
"Have you heard anything from Brett?" I quizzed.
"I got his voice mail when I called him," Jason stated.
We met Brett and Kathy on Coffee Street as we headed to the bypass to fill
up. While I was filling the gas tank, Jason received a call from Brett.
"Brett and Kathy are at our house," he relayed. "Brett wants to ride to Tupelo
with us."
At something after nine-thirty, Brett, Jason, and I were underway.
"I need to pick up my tux, when we start back," Brett shared from the backseat.
"You don’t have your tux?" I asked, trying not to appear panicky with
respect to my ever-shrinking window of opportunity to get the things done
that I wanted to do.
"I was going to get it yesterday, but Mama said I could wait ‘til today."
My stress could not possibly have compared with that of my sister on the
wedding day, so I didn’t let Brett know of my frustration with the events
of the morning.
…to be continued.
Merilese’s
Shingles Uncommon In Children
At first, her parents thought it was a rash, but as the outbreak worsened,
Merilese’s dad decided she had a case of poison ivy. The next day Rayanne
bought some over-the-counter medications to treat the poison ivy, and when
that didn’t seem to help Anson took Merilese to a local physician who
diagnosed a case of shingles and wanted to hospitalize her. Remembering a
prior hospitalization experience, Merilese protested, hysterically, and it
was deemed best to try treatment at home.
Because shingles is a carry-over form of the chicken pox virus, persons with
shingles can infect others with chicken pox, though not with shingles. Anyone
who’s had chicken pox is a candidate for shingles. There aren’t
many of us who escape the highly contagious chicken pox virus in our childhood
days, which improves the odds we’ll contract shingles at some point
in our lifetime, mostly in our mature years. Merilese had chicken pox at
the tender age of seven weeks, and according to her mom, it wasn’t a
light case, either.
Merilese’s rash had become a full blown case of shingles, the next day.
She had outbreaks on her upper right arm, the right shoulder area of her
back, in the palm of her hand and behind an ear. Rayanne took her to a
pediatrician in Tupelo, who convinced all that Merilese should be in the
hospital.
Rayanne and her mom routinely converse at least once a day, and I was kept
updated on a regular basis. Barbara and I arrived at the Tupelo hospital,
North Mississippi Medical Center, shortly after Merilese was admitted. A
sign on the hospital room door warned away visitors who had never had chicken
pox. I had chicken pox when I was five years old. Barbara must be immune,
because she’s been exposed time and again but never contracted the virus.
For the first time, we saw our granddaughter’s case of shingles. Merilese
seemed to be in fairly good spirits, though she was a little nervous about
what might be done to her. A doctor was in the room with her when we arrived.
He scrapped one of the crusty areas on her arm and had the scrapings sent
to the hospital and then ordered swabs done on three other areas. Merilese
didn’t show any sign of pain throughout the ordeal. Afterwards, her
dad stayed in the room to comfort her while the nurses inserted a port into
a vein on the back of her right hand. Anson reported she almost squeezed
his hand in two, but she didn’t cry or put up a struggle. We were all
proud of her bravery.
After twenty-four hours Merilese had shown considerable improvement and there
was talk of dismissing her the following day. However, when her condition
worsened the next day, she spent another night in the hospital.
Though other family members would visit at various times, Rayanne stayed
each night and was quite fatigued by Saturday. Barbara drove over Saturday
to get Rayanne out of the hospital for a short while and both of us returned
Saturday evening when we learned Merilese was improved enough to be discharged.
There were still areas of redness on Merilese’s chest, arm, and shoulder
at the time of Felicia’s wedding, but the doctor explained she was no
longer contagious. However, the doctor cautioned Merilese to avoid direct
exposure to the sun’s rays, suggesting she wear a Tee-shirt even if
swimming. Thus far, she’s taking the precautions and is doing well.
Reader
Comments Anniversary Extolled
The following are expressions of congratulations received following our
anniversary issue of June 2.
Date June 2, 2007: Ralph and Peggy Jones
Happy Eleventh Anniversary to you and Ridge Rider News! May big bouquets
of Best Wishes come to you from all who enjoy Ridge Rider News. How you find
enough to write about each week is beyond me. And, how you hold down a full
time job, are a Baptist, and a ‘Honey Do’ husband, blows me away.
You must have more than the allotted twenty-four hours in a day!
Trying to write a little from time to time myself is very difficult sometimes.
On days that I want to write, no ideas materialize. Other times it seems
I cannot get it on paper soon enough. I began to write many letters while
in college (and since), but alas, few have been answered.
While out driving one day, Peggy and I began to discuss things we remembered
from our youth. Since we live in the city, I commented that our children
would never know some of the joys that I enjoyed growing up in the country.
She admonished me to write about my growing up years. My comment was to the
effect that I’m no writer, never could spell worth a hoot. Get it on
paper and someone else can proof it and correct spelling was her answer.
It did sound challenging to me, and I tucked it away in the corner filing
cabinet of my mind.
A local bank had a promotion not long thereafter that got my attention. If
one would open a special savings account the bank would give them a computer,
free. It was not a fancy one, but if one wanted to learn to use a computer,
this might be a good opportunity. Soon after the account was set up, a brand
new Apple IIc computer arrived at our door. Looking back, it was quite a
simple machine. It did serve the purpose to help me learn how to maneuver
in a computer environment. Mrs. Naugher had taught me well in typing, so
the keyboard part was no problem at all. The little computer with its single
drive and the five-inch disks was very user friendly, even an old coot like
me could learn this system.
As everything fell into place and writing became fun, that filing cabinet
in my mind opened and out fell the challenge of writing about old times for
our children. The more I wrote, the more I wanted to, and the more I remembered
to write about. The printer had a cog drive that fed the paper through in
a continuous sheet. I was now typing by the yard instead of one sheet at
a time; it was fun. For years afterwards, each time I would think of something
from the past, it would be written in rough form in order to keep the thoughts.
Since our computer now has a ‘grammar’ and ‘spell’ check,
I am going back and polishing some of those stories and they become fodder
for "The Ramblings of an Old Geezer" books.
Quite by accident, one day I stumbled across a character named Ludlow Putnam.
This is a name the ladies in our music/ drama department at church call me
when I begin to act goofy. Somehow Ludlow took over that crazy part of my
character and comes alive occasionally on paper. He can, and will, say things
under his name that Ralph could not bring himself to say. And so, the continuing
saga of my ‘writing’ (some laughingly call it that) continues.
It is a real source of pleasure for me.
I understand the drive you must have as you do the news each week. It must
be a source of accomplishment, a source of reference, and a source of
fulfillment. You do a very good job of writing and organizing the news. It
is pleasurable for us to keep up with the happenings of our beloved hometown
of Pontotoc. FBC news is always of interest to me.
You are to be commended on your dedication and persistence. For one, I hope
you continue to write the Ridge Rider News for another hundred and eleven
years.
Again, Happy Anniversary!
------------------------------------------------------------
Date June 3, 2007, Linda Ball Reeves
Wayne, what a disciplined person you must be to get RRN out every week!!!
Thanks again for your dedication to a most worthwhile project.
------------------------------------------------------------
Date May 26, 2007, Dr. Mac Molnar
Party or not, congratulations on eleven years.
Bodock Beau
Hollywood Squares
Remember the original Hollywood Squares? These are questions and answers
from the days when "Hollywood Squares" game show responses were spontaneous.
Peter Marshall was the host asking the questions, of course.
Q. Do female frogs croak?
A. Paul Lynde: If you hold their little heads under water long enough.
Q. If you're going to make a parachute jump, at least how high should you
be?
A. Charley Weaver: Three days of steady drinking should do it.
Q. True or False, a pea can last as long as 5,000 years.
A. George Gobel: Boy, it sure seems that way sometimes.
Q. According to Cosmopolitan, if you meet a stranger at a party and
you think that he is attractive, is it okay to come out and ask him if he's
married?
A. Rose Marie: No; wait until morning.
Q. Which of your five senses tends to diminish as you get older?
A. Charley Weaver: My sense of decency.
Q. Can boys join the Camp Fire Girls?
A. Marty Allen: Only after lights out.
Q. According to Ann Landers, is there anything wrong with getting into the
habit of kissing a lot of people?
A. Charley Weaver: It got me out of the army.
Q. As you grow older, do you tend to gesture more or less with your hands
while talking?
A. Rose Marie: You ask me one more growing old question Peter, and I'll give
you a gesture you'll never forget.
Q. Paul, why do Hell's Angels wear leather?
A. Paul Lynde: Because chiffon wrinkles too easily.
Q. Back in the old days, when Great Grandpa put horseradish on his head,
what was he trying to do?
A. George Gobel: Get it in his mouth.
Q. When you pat a dog on its head he will wag his tail. What will a goose
do?
A. Paul Lynde: Make him bark?
Q. Jackie Gleason recently revealed that he firmly believes in them and has
actually seen them on at least two occasions. What are they?
A. Charley Weaver: His feet.
Q. It is considered in bad taste to discuss two subjects at nudist camps.
One is politics, what is the other?
A. Paul Lynde: Tape measures.
Shared by Ken Gaillard
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