Monday, January 24, 2022

LAST MAN STANDING

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My wife and I were watching a rerun of “The Golden Girls” last night. (And having shared that minor revelation with you, allow me to mention that given the somewhat scandalous implications of its plot, it is important to note that I generally do not tolerate this program in my home).

At any rate, this particular segment seemed a bit mundane, and there seemed to be a lot more innocent humor, than usual. In one sequence the four women are seated on a large sofa, and they happen to be talking together about their friendship. And they vow to remain friends for life, and support each other any which way they can.

Suddenly, “Rose” (Betty White) muses,

“One day only one of us will be left here.”

And I thought,

“Wow. Talk about a prophetic statement on an otherwise very secular television series!”

Of course, “Dorothy” (Bea Arthur), and “Blanche” (Rue McClanahan), and “Sophia” (Estelle Getty) have gone on to their separate fates, and until just a few days ago, only “Rose” (Betty White) remained with us. How absolutely prophetic that she was chosen to say the foregoing words of this segment of the television series, as she was, indeed, “the last woman standing.”

Pt. 2

I can relate.

They say you will never miss a friend, if you never make one. And I was never prone to make many close friends, ‘til I finished high school, attended a couple years of college, and a tour of military duty. However, after I was discharged from the Air Force, and moved to Virginia, I was blessed to meet a couple of guys with whom I immediately clicked.

I attended a predominantly white church in Woodbridge. However, there was this one black couple whom we met there. Sam was a bit older than me. I suppose he was in his early 30’s. He was exceptionally friendly, and possessed a wry sense of humor. I will always remember his laugh. While I don’t recall Sam and Anita once visiting our home, I think we were at their home a couple of Saturday nights a month for two years.

Bill and Marie also lived in Woodbridge, whereas we lived in Stafford County 25 or 30 miles south of this city. Bill was quieter than Sam, as was I. And while the three couples were well acquainted, I don’t recall Bill and Marie spending much time with the “Smith’s” and us. I will never forget one weekend in particular. My wife and I had driven to Woodbridge with the intention of spending the afternoon with the “Edward’s.” However, before it was over, the afternoon turned into an entire weekend. We had not been visiting with Bill and Marie long before a freak snowstorm blew in, and in the course of a couple of hours the roads were impassible.

I will always remember something Bill said to me. For whatever reason, he and I were driving down a four lane highway one day, and he unexpectedly said,

“I worry about Marie. I wonder what she and the children would do if something happened to me.”

A few years later, after my former wife and I had moved to another state, we received a letter from Marie. Bill had contracted a terminal illness, and had died. I still have the letter.

Twenty five years later, my present wife and I were in Virginia, and saw Sam and Anita. It was the last time we saw them. A former member of our church in Woodbridge recently informed me that Sam had gone on to his well deserved reward.

Pt. 3

Like Betty White, I found myself the last among friends. And while I was grateful to still be among the land of the living, I was absolutely devastated.

And then it happened again.

Sam and Bob were my fellow team members in the headquarters company of an Army National Guard unit in central Florida. The three of us were attached to this unit from our home battalion in Jacksonville. We served as a visiting personnel records inspection team, and regularly evaluated the completion and accuracy of the documentation of awards, promotions, assignments, enlistments, separations and retirements among the four subordinate reserve companies.

CWO (Chief Warrant Officer) “Stevenson,” or Sam as we were prone to call him, was, for the most part, a no nonsense, speak when he was spoken to, kinda guy, though from time to time he would come out with a bit of wry humor. As a “for instance” he would tell people he was from South America. When questioned further, he’d say, “Yeah, I’m from Alabama. It’s south and it’s America.” He expected us to do our job, but if, and when he found it necessary to correct us, he was never harsh, and supported us when it came to our superiors. When he wasn’t performing as a Personnel Officer in the guard, he worked as an inspector for the Florida Department of Agriculture.

SFC (Sergeant First Class) Hoehne was from New Jersey, and he was always talking about “going down to the shore” as a young man. He was, for lack of another moniker, a real character. I remember once when we were out in the field, and the unit lined up for breakfast. As we walked past the head cook, who happened to be serving grits, Bob offered his metal tray, and said, “Give me one grit!” When he wasn’t doing reserve duty, he was a local elementary school teacher.

Bob retired from the guard about a year before I did, and I became Section Chief. He was always doing extra duty at the unit to increase his points for retirement pay. He would have received his first check at age sixty. I forget how I discovered he had passed, perhaps an online obituary. He was 58. He died of a massive heart attack. He never received his first military pension check.

Sam outlived Bob by fifteen years. When I saw his obit, I realized that, to use an old adage, lightning had struck twice. While the three of us met, and subsequently worked together just one weekend a month, we were fast friends. I think both Sam and Bob would have said the same thing about our relationship.

Afterward

“One day only one of us will be left here.”

I have been assigned that singular role twice in my life.

by William McDonald, PhD

 

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