Sentimental Stories: Remembering Uncle Hollis

Hollis Stogner, 

sitting on front steps of Columbia High School, c. 1960

I remember Uncle Hollis as a simple, down to earth person who found friends wherever he went.  I remember the deep southern country accent in his voice and how sometimes he talked slower than others.  Uncle Hollis grew up a pure country boy who enjoyed fishing trips on the river and hunting as well.  He was sociable and made many friends during all the years he was employed at the Nickel Store in the small town of Columbia, Mississippi.  He and his wife Juanita were married about 34 years at the time of his death.  They had three children- Stephen, Sandra Kay and Synthia Ann.  Hollis and Juanita attended the North Columbia Church of God in Columbia, Mississippi for several years.  

Uncle Hollis, date unknown

The photo above was taken about 1964.  Uncle Hollis was showing off his "catch of the day", sitting with sibling Shelby Stogner.  Shelby is holding Stephen, then about a year old, the son of Hollis and wife Juanita.  In the background of the photo is their mother, Iva Peak Stogner.  At the time, the family resided in a house on Park Avenue in Columbia, Mississippi.

Sentimental Stories: Remembering Uncle Alton

Uncle Alton was a big man with a jolly spirit and a big heart. He would have given the shirt off his back to someone else in need. Lord knows he helped Charles and I a time or two during our struggles way back when. During my pregnancy with son Ryan, Charles was laid off from work in the oilfield. Uncle Alton was building his home in Goss at that time and employed Charles to do general labor and paid him cash each week- that helped us through a tough time until Charles returned to work. It has been said that Uncle Alton was often too generous, freely giving money to those in need.

 

He thoroughly enjoyed large family gatherings which he sometimes hosted at his home. He enjoyed cooking for the family and the satisfaction of watching everyone enjoy their meal. He particularly enjoyed fried turkey during the holidays. I remember one year Charles fried up six turkeys at Uncle Alton's request because he wanted to make sure everyone had plenty (and he wanted a couple left over to bring home with him).

 

Uncle Alton could also be a big clown when the mood struck him. He enjoyed teasing others and pulling pranks. I recall one instance when I had pulled into a gas station with my two young daughters Crissy and Cherie. Crissy was 3 years old and Cherie was 1 year old. I intended to quickly run into the store and purchase a pack of cigarettes. When I came back out to the car, only Crissy was in the car. I asked her where her sister was. She replied, "Some man took him". Can you imagine the fear that raced through my soul at that time? I frantically scanned the parking lot with my eyes, looking for my baby daughter. I asked Crissy if she knew the man. "It was a big man, Mama". Oh, the thoughts that raced through my mind! Moments later, here comes Uncle Alton from behind the store with Cherie in his arms. He was laughing his butt off. At that moment, I didn't think it was funny- I wanted to choke him for doing that to me. But, I later laughed about it. The incident taught me an important lesson- never leave my kids alone in the car because they can disappear within seconds. I realized how irresponsible that was and I never did that again.

 

I loved Uncle Alton. We visited often, either at my place or his. He carries a special place in my heart and warm memories.

Sentimental Stories: Fading Away

"What you leave behind is not what is engraved into stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others" ~ Pericles

"Am I going to live?", she asked me as I stood next to her bed, patting her brow with a damp cloth. It was the question I had no immediate answer for. How could I give her my honest opinion while she lay there, helpless and weak, looking at me while searching my face for a just a hint of hope? I didn't have the heart to tell her that she will probably never return home, that she is near the end of life's journey. I carefully searched my mind for the right words to say... yet I drew a blank. It was an awkward moment.

I feel more sentimental about this patient. She was my Mother's best friend for over twenty years. Mom loved her dearly. The two of them had been there for each other through their joys and struggles. They traveled together, cooked together, had coffee together. For several years before Mom passed away, this best friend lived just two doors down. They sort of looked out for each other and kept one another company through the lonely hours of boredom. As a matter of fact, Mom had prepared dinner for herself and her friend the Sunday before she passed away. Mom enjoyed having the presence of company for Sunday dinner... she was always like that.

As I stood next to this "special" patient, memories flooded my mind- mental images of loud laughter as she and Mom chatted together and told funny stories or wisecracks, of gatherings onSundays where we all stuffed ourselves then sat around and gossiped, of the sadness seen on this woman's face when she was going through some rather difficult struggles in her life. I felt a sadness weigh heavily on my heart as I watched her drift in and out of consciousness. She is like a "link", a connection, to the memories of my dear Mother- and I see her painfully fading away.

I wrestled with fighting back tears as I softly patted her damp face with a sponge. I whispered to her, thanking her for being part of my Mom's life, for being a trusted friend to her through thick and thin. She nodded slightly and hoarsely whispered, "I loved your Mom like a sister, she was my best friend." She then drifted back off to sleep. I stood there for just a little while, watching her breathe, wondering if I would see her again. Before leaving, I bent over her, leaning in to her face to place a kiss upon her cheek. She opened her eyes briefly, for a fleeting moment. I turned and walked away, confronted by thoughts of finality. Praying in a silent whisper...may peace follow, dear friend.  

A memory from my personal journal originally written Sunday, October 04, 2009

Note:  This dear friend was Carol Passmore.  She lived a little while longer, and passed from this life the following year, in 2010.  I will always remember her kindness and friendship.

Sentimental Stories: A Baby's Feet

Nathan's little feet, April 2009

What is it about a baby's toes that I love so much? I love to gently rub these tiny little feet and watch his toes curl when I touch them. They are so soft, so delicate. Sometimes I can't resist placing a light kiss upon the soles of his baby feet.

These tiny feet will grow quickly. Hopefully, they will take him upon a long journey through life, through many miles during his life on this earth. They will allow him to stand, a little unsteady at first, until he progressively learns that he can make them move forward.... and backwards too. They will cause him to stumble and fall a few times, perhaps causing him to acquire a few bruises here and there, but he will learn how to manuever them to perfection. These little feet will learn to walk, then run. They will spend a lot of time in forward motion, as the master of them runs to greet his parents and his friends. They will turn the wheels of a tricycle then later a bicycle then an automobile; they will climb upon ladder rings leading to slides and monkey bars, and they will leap to catch balls and frisbees.

One day, all too soon, these delicate little baby feet will grow to their full capacity, bearing the weight of a full grown man. My wish is that they will take him through a long, beautiful journey in his life.... and that one day, these precious little feet will become those of a wise and well traveled old man.

I love you, my precious grandson.

From my personal blog, originally written April 25, 2009... for my grandson, Nathan