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Blest be the tie

I stood at the old cemetery last week on  a bleak Delta November afternoon to say goodbye to a friend I first met in 1967 at Millsaps College.  I reflected about our friendship and what it had meant to me for all these years as family and friends gathered to pay tribute to a loving mother/grandmother, sibling, educator, Christian; and I recalled the words to an old hymn: “Blest be the tie that binds Our hearts in Christian love; the fellowship of kindred minds Is like to that above.”

For that time, and for all the years and people who have felt her presence, those words rang true and will continue to  reverberate as we remember a life will lived and influences that will go with us for the rest of our lives.

Her courage inspired us as she battled cancer for two and a half years.  Her faith made us stronger, hopeful, and cognizant that each day is precious and is to be lived to the fullest.  Her example bound us to do better, to be better, to value our friendships, and make the time to keep our ties ever present.

For those who knew Mary at Millsaps, she will be forever known as the cowardly lion in the Kappa Delta Wizard of Oz skit.  Who would have predicted that the imaginary dose of courage she received as the cowardly lion would serve her as she encountered trials and tribulations later in life?  Her courage and faith as she fought cancer stand as a testament to the ties that continued beyond the college years.

Our lives took different paths as we finished college, embarked on careers, and had families, but we always seemed to be able to connect when an opportunity presented itself.  Her laughter and sense of humor drew me like a moth to the light and I relished the times we could visit. 

In 2011, our pledge class gathered for a reunion and almost everyone in the class attended to perform a special skit written by Anne Babb Roberts and Ann Munday Priest as only our class could do and only with Mary.  She almost backed out of coming, but she summoned the courage to make the trip to everyone’s delight.  The ties that drew us together in 1967 were in full force for that event and we left saying we would do it again….get together, but not in such grand fashion.  We have not kept that promise and the next time we gather, it will be without our beloved Mary.

As an educator, Mary touched countless lives.  I can only imagine what her classroom would be like, what her school faculty would be like, but I know deep in my heart and soul that the world is a much better place as the ripples of her influence continue to impact the people who walked through the doors of her school.  The courage that bound her to go the extra mile so that the students she was entrusted with would know more, be more, do more is an everlasting testament to the passion and commitment she made to make the world a better place.  I am sure there were times when she thought it was too hard, too stressful, too much; but she summoned the courage to continue until she couldn’t any more.

The grey November skies with the threat of rain created a somber atmosphere at the graveside of Mary Glassco Hubbard, but the rain held off as if in tribute. “When we asunder part, It gives us inward pain; but we shall still be joined in heart, and hope to meet again.” I recall these words from the old hymn and pay tribute to a dear friend.  Indeed, the tie that bound us is blest and one I will always treasure.

Note: The words from the hymn “Blest Be the Tie” were written by John Fawcett.


Snow daze

It started early this morning….those first gentle powdery flakes floating down and gently brushing my face as I was finishing my walk. Soon, the flakes became larger and were coming down more quickly. My first thoughts were that this was a fleeting thing and would disappear as quickly as it had begun, but as the day continued so did the downpour of the sky’s powder.

Slowly the ground was covered with the white substance and I began to recall memories of snow days,of adventures made possible only by this blessing of Mother Nature.

Snow ice cream was a delight to be savored on those rare occasions when we had a few inches of snow. Mother would scoop up a pan full of untouched snow and put vanilla flavoring and sugar and a little milk for our snow cream. Oh! What a treat!

We didn’t have a sled but we were not to be outdone.We got a big tire and hooked it onto the back of the truck and our parents and their friends would pull us all over the county while we screamed and shouted with no thoughts of the dangers we could encounter. The angels were surely watching over us.

There were times when the temperatures stayed below freezing so the small streams and ditches would freeze. Out came the rubber boots and Aunt Billie’s ice skates that were a few sizes too big and off we would go to test our skills at ice skating.For some reason, it was never too cold as we sailed across the ice ( mostly on our bottoms). We just knew that we were invincible.

Of course the inevitable snowball fight was a must for where two or more children are gathered in an area covered in snow, an unwritten rule says a snowball fight occurs.Hastily constructed forts provided little shelter from the assault. Our friends who lived a mile down the road were only too happy to join in and form teams to see who could become the victor. I can almost feel the sting of that hurled orb now.

Since we lived in the flat
Delta, there were no hills to slide down so we would go to the railroad tracks with cardboard boxes obtained from the Western Auto store and slide down the only hill around.
What fun!

We could play outside for hours and not feel the cold while reveling in nature’s rare offering. We didn’t care if we would have to make up days in school.
We grasped every minute of our times in the snow and were bound only by our imaginations as to how we would enjoy this rare occurrence.

The snow is subsiding and so are my recollections of days gone by. Now,I simply enjoy the snow as a bystander in awe of this beauty and the tranquility it brings by causing us to move a little slower and marvel at the unblemished canvas of our surroundings.

What’s in a name?

Shakespeare wrote “A rose by any other name smells as sweet.”  Truly,what is in a name!

For the past few years, I have come to realize that our names define us in countless ways. What people call us communicates a level of familiarity and demonstrates how and when someone has known us.

I was given the name Anne Hart by my parents Annie Laurie and James Hart Morrow several decades ago. My father thought that if you named a child, the child should use all the names and he was adamant about that. When I went to college,that is what people calaled me and when I got married and moved back to Tallahatchie County,that is what people called me.

Life happened and I moved away from Webb in Tallahatchie Couny. I went to work at Delta State and found it was just easier to say Anne. So in that chapter of my life,people who knew me , only knew the first name. It seemed simpler and less complicated and then, I was looking for simple and uncomplicated in my life.

However, as I would go back to visit my parents and encountered those who had known me in my younger days, the sound of people calling me Anne Hart gave me a sense of comfort, of belonging, of being in a place where people knew me, knew my history,my family, my trials as well as the tribulations.

Nine months ago, I moved from Bolivar County to Starkville, and as I began to make this place my home, I realized that in this phase or chapter of my life, I wanted to be called Anne Hart. It was the name I was given. It is the name that evokes a sense of belonging. It requires that a person pay attention when being introduced and understands that for me, the double name is important. Use of a double name is a southern tradition that is fading along with many traditions and maybe that is a reason I hang on to it. That, like saying yes ma’am and no sir are part of that tradition and I hang on to those as well.

This is not to say that the people I met and became friends with in Bolivar County are not friends or a special part of my life. It just means that  I share a different experience there. It also makes me realize I should have taken the time there to identify myself more clearly.

As I open a new chapter in a new place, I want to learn from past errors and start here with who I am.

There have been many chapters in this life’s journey: childhood,college, work, retirement. Through them all, I have met people who are near and dear to my heart, Anne Hart that is.

The Answer

It never occurred to me that people had so many questions until I made two announcements about life-changing events.

When I retired in April, 2016, from “The Bolivar Commercial”, people asked me what I was going to do with my time because their first assumption was that I would be bored after working for 45.5 years–not just at the “Bolivar Commercial,” but in education too.

“Are you going to get a part-time job?” Are you going to travel?” Will you be moving?”

My answer was, “I am going to explore  my options,” and that seemed to satisfy the curious for a while.

I enjoyed several weeks of not having to wake up to the alarm clock and then began to think about my next steps- the next phase-the last hurrah before the nursing home and looked at the best place for me. Should I stay in Cleveland where I had been for 16 years or should I move and if I moved, where? Now, I was the one asking the questions.

All the arrows pointed to Starkville so I contacted a realtor, found a place I loved, listed my house in Boyle and moved. Things just fell into place. If the truth were told, I really thought I would take a couple of years to make this move,but then, the reality of   a few more birthdays creeping up hit me and the notion that if I were to make a move, I could not wait for the calendar pages to turn. Sometime in the future was not an option and as my Mother would say, “You better strike while the iron is hot.”

Believe me, packing up and moving in August with temperatures nearing the triple digit mark was not what she meant,though.

So,the movers came. My friends asked, “Why Starkville?” I never in a million years realized I needed an answer. I knew why Starkville was the right place for me but not that I would need an answer for anyone else.

“Do you have family there? Are you getting a job there? Do you have a boyfriend there?” So many questions! Who would have thought?  Well, I decided I had to come up with a standard answer that would discourage further questions, so I pondered.

The movers unloaded my valuables and I began to settle in and meet people. After the “Where did you move from?” which was not hard to answer , the inevitable “Why did you move here?” ” Do you have family here?” “Do you have a job here?” came. When I answered in the negative, puzzled expressions and silence greeted me next. I needed an answer that would curtail further questions and one that would satisfy the curious without seeming rude or flippant or causing anyone to contact Homeland Security.

I scoured the internet to see if there was a resource or guidebook but there seemed to be no reference material for my dilemma. Surely, there was something like” Twenty Questions: Twenty Answers” but alas, nothing like that exists so I started making a list of answers that I might use in case anyone else might need to have this resource.

Here are a few answers I thought of and they are not in any particular order or importance.  1. I like moving. 2. I like moving–especially in the hottest weather. 3.  Change is good. 4.  I am on a quest to see how many people I can meet and set a world’s record.  5.  I am in a contest to see how much stuff I can get rid of.  6. I am training for the next Olympics and want to take advantage of the athletic facilities at MS State. 7. Life is short and we have to seize the moment- to do things when we can and while we can.

Any more questions? Pick an answer.