In the movie, "Wizard of Oz," Dorothy clicked her heels together, closed her eyes and repeated, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home." When I hear the word, home, my thoughts immedately return to the place of my childhood, Beebe, Arkansas, even though I have not lived there in over fifty years.
Beebe was a small town when I was growing up. It has grown in population since then, but, at that time, there were less than 3,000 people living there. I have only fond memories of the many wonderful people who played a role during this stage of my life. There are so many stories I could tell, but I want to save them for another time. The story I want to tell has to do with the little church in this picture.
Anyone who frequented our home knew, without a doubt, that my mother's favorite color was blue. (Ironically, she had the most beautiful clear blue eyes, also, so when she wore the color blue, they were the first thing about her that you noticed.) Anyway, the majority of her clothes were blue, as was her jewelry, china patterns, bedspreads, towels, etc. I think you get the picture. In our home, the walls were all a very pale blue throughout. However, the walls that are remembered by most would be the wood paneling in the kitchen.
Our home was on College Street. This street took you directly to the downtown area where you could go to my daddy's grocery store, Warren Brothers, Belew's Cleaners, Olmstead's Hardware (where I stole plastic cars when I was 5), Powell's or Huffaker's to buy clothes or even to the post office. You would also go to Main Street to get your hair done at Reba Nell's Beauty Shop, something fun at Morton's Variety Store, ice cream at Mac Young's Drug Store, or, in my case, reluctantly to the dentist office to see Byrne Garrett, or when I was little, his daddy, James Hugh. I can't leave out Dr. Kinley's office on the corner where I still laugh when I think of how he had to corner Jeannie Baker in order to give her a shot! Oh, and I can't leave out Westbrook Funeral Home where my best friend, Pam, introduced me to my first dead person! (Wow, I didn't realize I would go there in my writing.)
Because of the location of our home and the welcoming spirit of my parents, friends of all ages often stopped by to visit and to have a cup of coffee. If there was not a pot brewing, Daddy would start one. It was not abnormal for folks to stop by at 10:30 at night. If the kitchen light was still on, they knew we were still up. Why? Because that was the last light that was turned off before my parents went to bed. So, many wonderful meals, coffee, and conversation took place around the kitchen bar in the room with the pale blue paneled walls. It was within these blue walls that my parents modeled to me what was meant by unconditional hospitality and grace.
In 2001, a tornado hit my small town and did some serious damage. Our home was not blown over, but it shifted so that it could not be saved. My brother and I salvaged as much as we could and then made arrangements for this home, which held so many priceless childhood memories, to be bull-dozed. Without my knowledge, our dear friend, Byrne Garrett, went to our home and salvaged several pieces of the blue paneling from our kitchen that had meant so much to so many people.
So, now look again at the picture of the little church. This church, along with a birdhouse, was built using the blue paneling that Byrne rescued for us. When Ron and I got married, The Garretts and the Loveladys came to our wedding and presented us with this gift. When I pulled the pieces out of the bag, I knew immediately where the wood was from! I still, thirteen years later, do not have the words to describe the joy that filled my heart. Talk about a treasure...As the Mastercard commerical would say...PRICELESS!
So, I agree with Dorothy. There's no place like home. And, for me...home will always be Beebe.
FOLLOW-UP STORIES:
Your "There's No Place Like Home" hit home for me. First memory of baby Rosalie is seeing you dressed, swaddled in a pink blanket, but best of all, Mrs. Mildred had taped a blue bow on top of you head. She and mother talked about how you looked "just like Robert!" I love my childhood memories and your family was a big part of my growing up years. Ask Robbie if he remembers the two of us on top of the building behind your house when the China Berry tree was in full bloom. We were covered in berry stain when Mrs. Mildred discovered us, she was between laughing and crying! CLYDINE MITCHELL PENNINGTON
I remember our very own private concerts in the room right off the kitchen! We threw out names of songs and she could play all of them! Robert, sitting behind us would always request, "Twilight Time". What lovely, delightful memories for us!!! Thank you, Rosie. Sandra will love this....yesterday was Byrnes birthday. - CAROLYN LOVELADY
Beautifully written, Rosie. I have so many wonderful memories, both as a child and an adult, of the times spent with you and your family. I still remember the "burning of the letters" ritual from our teenage years! Thanks so much for sharing this~ I'll never forget the look on Mildred's face...of course, when Rosie sat down at the piano, it was like one person with four hands.KATHY MITCHELL RODGERS
Rosie, this article is excellent. I will never forget the kindness of your parents. I still have a letter somewhere in this house, that your mom sent me, when mother passed. Something I remember in that home was a wall of photographs filled with family pictures. PHYLLIS HALL -
This is AMAZING! I had almost forgotten how super welcoming they were to guests! I remember that from my childhood! And I wasn't aware of that gift. Greatest gift ever. - ROBERT VERA (my older son)
