Canada Geese & Honeysuckles
Feb 20 '04
The Bottom Line I rented some space--very reasonable!--on the obituary page of The Herald Bulletin (our local newspaper) to write the following tribute to Daddy. . .
Be warned that the following is long. What I've done is to share here the tribute I wrote to Daddy (which reads like a love story--and it IS a love story) that appeared in our local paper The Herald Bulletin on February 6, 2004, the same day as his 4-8 p.m. visitation.
Since I'm simply sharing it as it appeared, it won't have my usual "bells & whistles" (e.g. boldface, italics).
At the bottom of the page, you'll come across more boldface, and that will be an update to this piece.
Introduction:
Names on obituary pages. . .names on tombstones. . .a story behind each one that's worth telling--and I feel so blessed and so sad at the same time to be telling this story:
Sad. . .because of where I'm telling the story.
Blessed. . .to be able to write well enough to at least begin to do justice to the characters who make up this story--and so much more blessed to have actually spent my entire life, to date, knowing and loving those wonderful people!
Raymond W. Phillips. . .a name on an obituary page. . .a name soon to be etched on a tombstone in the Cunot Cemetery. . .in more technical terms, now a death statistic.
He was a man with a loving heart who doted on his wife and daughter and loved them both unconditionally.
No doubt some decisions his daughter made in life might have disappointed him--though you could never get him to admit to as much--but he never stopped loving her and being proud of her, and I don't believe that anything could have changed that.
His daughter is a writer--as she sometimes puts it, "At least, I claim to be a writer--what better excuse for pigging out and taking road trips than to say I'm looking for writing material!"--and Ray was always proud about this and did whatever he was able to do in order for her to live this dream of being a fulltime writer.
I'm that daughter, and I hope you enjoy the incredibly-beautiful love story I'm sharing here.
Love & God Bless!
Ainsley Jo Phillips
Canada Geese & Honeysuckles
by
Ainsley Jo Phillips
Prologue:
The 21st Century has been with us for a few years now--some say for three and others say for four--and those who attended the 1939 World's Fair and believed they were seeing the future might be surprised about how much some things would still be the same over six decades later.
For one thing, there would still be country landscapes with trees, flowers, and wildlife, and birds would still be flying overhead.
The couple, who lived in a cozy, two-story house filled with love and memories, had been married for over half-a-century--and the view they enjoyed from their windows both showed them the open countryside and the glowing horizon created by not-so-distant places of business on the southeast side of Anderson, Indiana.
In the sky above their place was an invisible path that was known to Canada geese who often winged their way across in v-formation while communicating with mournful sounds.
Two of those geese seemed especially close to each other, and the couple liked to believe that they were soulmates, for they had heard that geese would mate for life, and, when death parted them, the surviving one would never fall in love again.
Those two Canada geese reminded them of themselves. . .
****----****
Ainsley Jobe graduated with the class of 1939 at Cloverdale High School and was hoping to begin nursing school in the fall over at a hospital in Terre Haute that offered hands-on training so that you could work your way through instead of having to pay a lot of tuition up-front.
Instead, she was given the disappointing news that you had to be at least 18 years old to get accepted.
While still in the two-room elementary school that was close to her home in the village of Cunot, she had been skipped a grade--and, as her birthday wasn't until April 6, she hadn't even been 17 that long.
For two or three years, her older brother, Donald, had been catching the interurban at near-by Greencastle to get to his job at Guide Lamp in Anderson, staying there with relatives during the week and returning home to Cunot on the weekend.
If his little sister couldn't go to nursing school in the fall, at least, he would be able to afford to pay for her to attend I.U. for a year and then decide where to go from there--that is, he would have been able to had he continued to work there.
One day, he boarded the interurban to Anderson--and woke up at the end of the line in Ft. Wayne, due to falling into a very deep sleep.
It was seen as just one of those funny moments in life at the time--but it turned out to be an early sign that this healthy-looking, young man's looks were deceiving.
Before long, he would be back in Cunot full-time with his mother, Fayra, caring for him while other family members did what they could in the way of support.
In 1941, Donald would be taken by Bright's Disease, and her continuing failing health would take Fayra two years later--with one of her last wishes being that Ainsley would take good care of Kathleen, the baby of the family who had been born visually-challenged with eyesight that would continue to deteriorate.
Ainsley stayed in Spencer with relatives while working at Jimmy's Highway Grill there until she had the chance to go to work in the factory at Delco Remy in 1940, starting in Plant 8, which required her to move to Anderson where she would eventually end up rooming with a young woman from her area whom her aunt introduced her to.
Ainsley and Beverly Furr felt as if they had known each other all of their lives and became forever friends.
Near the end of World War II, Ainsley transferred to the factory--and, eventually, the office--of Plant 6 and would get there on the bus.
It was then that she began noticing a fellow rider who was going to Plant 1.
This was a man whom she saw as standing out in the crowd with his neat-as-a-pin appearance and his pleasant expression and manner--not to mention that she also noticed how very handsome he was!
Although she never approached him, she enjoyed studying him during each bus ride--and her impression that Ray Phillips was a very wonderful and unique individual was right-on-the-money!
On Christmas Day, 1914, Chester Woodford Phillips eloped with Mabel Adeline Phelps, and their first child, Ruby Jewel, was born the following November 16.
If Chester had been able to do what he really wanted to do, he would have lived with his family on a farm in their home state of Kentucky.
However, economics dictated that it would be better for him to join the Army, so the next addition to the family would end up being conceived in Kentucky and born at Ft. Hayes, Ohio, near Columbus.
Raymond Woodford arrived about 1 1/2 weeks before Ruby's second birthday--and, when she was introduced to her new baby brother, the little lady was not impressed. Not impressed favorably, anyway.
Although the years ahead would find them becoming very close, at the time, she welcomed him to the family by biting him!
In 1920 and 1923, Evelyn Jeanette and James Walter joined the family.
By then, Chester had delayed his dream of farming--not to pick it up again until he had retired from the service in the 1940s when he, Mabel, and Ray would buy a farm about 12 miles outside of Bowling Green, Kentucky close to Richardsville--due to a downswing in agricultural economics after World War I had ended.
Instead, he turned the Army into a career, moving his family to the Ft. Harrison area when Ray was four.
This gentle, sensitive, pint-sized little fellow with the big, bright, dark-brown eyes was quite a go-getter.
He began delivering a variety of newspapers at the age of 7 and soon had around 300 customers--making more money than a Private!
He saw one of those customers out somewhere who had another means of transportation to get home later and asked him if he would drive his car home for him--also giving him permission to drive around in it for a little bit first!
Ray picked up Ruby (9) and Jennie (4) to take them for a spin. When he took them back home again, their mother asked him what on earth he was doing driving around in this guy's car.
Ray reassured her that he had his permission--to which his mom exclaimed, "But you're only seven years old!!!"
She told him to go ahead and return the car to the man but not to ever pull anything like that again!
This might have signaled the end of Ray's driving career until he was a few years older, but it didn't put an end to it--and, 30 years later, he would be holding his own two year old daughter on his lap and giving her a well-supervised feel of guiding the family car around the emptier part of the parking lot at Delco-Remy's Plant 11 while waiting for his wife, then working the evening shift, to get her break and come out to join them for a late meal they'd picked up ahead from The Lemon Drop, Bert T. Owens, or Rancho Grande.
Years after that, he would be driving Ruby again--this time, over to Ohio to receive alternative treatment for her cancer, afterwards, visiting her son and his family.
They would eat at Wendy's after Ruby's treatment, and, since Ray was interested in the stock market, Ruby suggested that this might be a good thing to invest in, and she was right!
He went to the investment place there in Ohio to ask about whether or not Wendy's offered stock to the public. When he found out that it did, he got with his local broker, John Schieve, to go about buying some.
When it split and increased in value, he sold some of it, bringing in some extra income.
Early in 2002, he sold the rest of it and divided the money with his wife and daughter--the latter using part of it to purchase a beautiful, white Pontiac Montana, which she gave a 60s hippie look to and called it AJ's Groovy Igloo.
It was a taste of Heaven for both of them when she was driving around with him sitting in the front passenger seat looking out on their surroundings.
Way back in 1955, he had passed along the love of holding a steering wheel to her!
In the spring of 1997, Ray fell seriously-ill with what turned out to be a viral infection of the brain and started having epileptic seizures right there in the emergency room.
Later, when he was settled into a hospital room, his wife and daughter asked the neurologist who had taken over his treatment if this meant that he wouldn't be able to drive anymore--and the doctor couldn't believe what he was hearing!
He scolded them, asking them if they understood that their loved one was gravely-ill and that whether or not he could drive again really wasn't the issue at the moment.
But, after all, how could a perfect stranger possibly understand why this was such an important issue?
He wasn't the wife who had just gotten back from a second honeymoon trip to Biloxi, Mississippi with a day trip over to New Orleans where they had gone on their honeymoon back in 1947--with Ray doing most of the driving.
He wasn't the toddler who had sat on Daddy's lap guiding the family car around the parking lot of Plant 11.
And he didn't know the story of that bright-eyed, pint-sized seven-year-old who had already had a damper put on his driving career once in his life--but knew that, someday, he would be behind the wheel of a car again.
As it turned out, lots of people were amazed that he had even been a full-fledged driver right up until he had gone into the hospital.
After all, he had been officially diagnosed with Parkinson's very early in 1994.
But this didn't slow him down one bit when it came to his driving--and, eventually, he was even able to drive again after that neurologist had told him and his family that he never would!
In fact, the neurologist wasn't even expecting him to survive this illness and, after that, referred to Ray as his "miracle man."
But there were many years to be lived between when he was a cute, little paper boy at Ft. Harrison and this time in his life.
He was always eager to learn--meaning that this future member of the class of 1936 at Lawrence High School would, instead, end up being a member of the class of 1935.
A few other classmates got skipped at the same time, and they all ended up being friends for life.
Ray didn't get his adult height of 5'9" until he was about to go into his senior year of high school. Before that, he was about the size of a nine-year-old and had been given the nickname of "Peck."
Short or tall, he was always popular with the girls--but always a gentleman.
He took to heart the advice of his parents: "Treat the girls you date as you would want other boys to treat your sisters."
When Ray graduated from high school, he and a friend hitchhiked to Washington, D.C. and back.
Not only was this something exciting for a couple of teenagers to be doing, but it was important to him, because he really cared about how his country was being run.
As with most things in his life, when it came to politics, Ray Phillips had a mind of his own. At the time, he was probably the only Republican in his family of Southern Democrats.
Even so, during his years of voting, he generally wasn't a straight-ticket Republican because he wanted to put a lot of thought into how he voted.
Before he would meet and marry his soulmate and love-of-his-life, he would become engaged once--with his fiancee breaking the engagement because she found him to be a little too bossy for her tastes. However, it was a friendly break-up.
Ray had signed up to be in the Army reserves and was called for active duty when America became involved in World War II.
However, then-unexplainable high blood-pressure discovered in his initial physical brought about a medical discharge for him before he even got the chance to put on a uniform.
The cause of this--the birth defect of a deformed aorta--was discovered many years later. An attempt was made to correct this in 1961, and it was permanently corrected in 1962--though complications from the surgery almost killed him at the time!
In 1942, he applied for a job at Delco-Remy--and, as it was apparent that he was both good with people and numbers, it was decided that the best place for him would be in accounts receivable at Plant 1.
He was shown around there by the man who would be his boss--after which he was asked if he understood everything that he'd been told.
"No, not really, " he replied, "but I see a lot of people in here, and I don't think all of them are a lot smarter than I am, so, if they can do it, so can I!"
He was hired on the spot!
In the years to come, he would eventually end up working at several of the plants in shop accounting, with his longest stay being at Plant 3, from which he retired in 1974.
And this was the outstanding, young man noticed by Ainsley Jobe each weekday on the bus ride to and from work.
He led a basically-wholesome life--with one of the first things he did upon arriving in town being to ask for a good place for him to go to church.
The first church he attended was First Baptist that was then over close to the old Anderson High School.
He had always been a great checker-player, so he became part of an informal checker club where people would take turns hosting meetings at their homes.
He also wasn't too bad at golf, either, though he was even better at bowling and was part of Delco-Remy's own bowling league--and this was where he was back in the spring of 1946 when two young women named Ainsley and Bev came into Eastman's Bowling Alley to rent a lane and play around for the fun of it.
Bev knew him from working with him, but Ainsley had only admired him from a distance while riding the bus.
When he wasn't playing, he kept going over to where the women were, looking at their scores, and asking them how they were doing.
Ainsley was a little embarrassed, because she wasn't playing that well--and Bev commented to her that she thought that Ray was about to ask her out on a date.
Ainsley didn't believe that for a second--but it turned out to be true.
On May 9, 1946, they had their first date, going to a circus that had come to town and on to the The Boat Club for supper afterwards.
For the next nine months, they would get together each night after Ainsley got off work and visit over chicken dinners at the little diner on the northeast corner of State Rd. 67 and Madison Avenue.
They would go to Cunot nearly every weekend to visit Ainsley's widowed dad who, among other things, was a beekeeper.
Ray was going to ask his future father-in-law's permission to marry his daughter while they were both out robbing bee trees, but a single bee got under his protective netting and stung Ray until he got sick and vomited all over himself.
Somehow, he wanted to appear a little more spiffy when discussing those matters, so he decided to postpone that discussion.
He drove Ainsley to Kentucky to meet his parents, who now lived on the farm. She remembers so well how the country lane leading to their home was lined with honeysuckles that spread their beautiful fragrance through the air.
Before they left for home, Ray's mother gave him some two-word advice: "Grab her!"
He proposed to her in the fall on the day that they went down to I.U. to watch a football game and visit Jennie and her family.
On February 8, they were married at East Lynn Christian Church with Bev as Ainsley's maid-of-honor and Ruby's husband, Roy, as Ray's best man.
Ruby and Roy's son Phil, who had just turned two a few days ago, saw Roy up there at the front of the church and proudly shouted, "That's my Daddy!!!"
The honeymooners stayed at the Marott Hotel in the honeymoon suite that night--then drove on towards New Orleans to attend the Mardi Gras festivities.
Epilogue:
Even before they were married, Ray told Ainsley, "One day, we're going to have a little girl, and we're going to name her Ainsley Jobe Phillips but will call her Ainsley Jo."
Just as he had predicted, this happened on December 12, 1952--so I'm here to tell his story.
There's so much more that I can tell, but time is running short for now.
However, I'll leave those of you who have access to a computer with a URL where his beautiful story will continue:
http://www.epinions.com/content_3752763524
Beverly (Furr) Cox went to sleep on the night of February 1, and she had a bad dream that Ray had passed away. She was glad to awaken the next morning to find out that she had only been dreaming.
However, she would learn soon afterwards that this had actually happened.
On February 7, 57 years ago, Ainsley Jobe spent her last night as a single woman.
This year, Ray's casket will close after the funeral containing the last anniversary card she will give him.
She woke up on February 9, 1947 for her first full day as a happily-married woman.
This February 9, she'll be there at the graveside at Cunot Cemetery when the earthly remains of her beloved Ray are laid to rest.
Although Ray is no longer with her in the flesh, he'll always be with her in the spirit until that wonderful time when they'll be together again!
Amen & Amen!
UPDATE: Due to the fact that the cemetery was a sheet of ice where nobody could get into it at the original time for the graveside service, this ended up not taking place until the afternoon of February 13.
On that day, since our own minister had to be out-of-town to take his wife to and from a ministry class down in Evansville, Pastor Wesley McCure from Cunot's Faith Baptist Church was kind enough to fill in--even refusing to take any money for doing this until we suggested that he could donate it to his church.
He didn't even know Daddy (I e-mailed him copies of things I'd written about him to help him in this area) but just was told of a need and was glad to help us out!!!
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Epinions.com ID:
AinsleyJo
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Member: Ainsley Jo Phillips
Location: Anderson, Indiana
Reviews written: 263
Trusted by: 216 members
About Me:
AJ is in multi-tasking mode and spinning her wheels! LOL
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