Cecil Owens, my faithful chimney sweep for the past three decades, had been by the house the previous Saturday. “Wow, you burned a lot of wood again last year, didn’t you?”
“I always do Cecil,” I replied.
While his assistant, Johnny, did most of the work, Cecil sat on the couch, drinking some of KM’s coffee and talking about college football – one of the perks of being a small business owner, I guess. Cecil and I talked while Johnny worked, and we came to the conclusion that we both still have hopes for a bowl game. Why not?
The next day, KM and I sat in front of a fire drinking coffee and talking about the obituaries – one of the best sections, in my opinion. Reading about the lives lived, seeing the interesting names and how long they walked the Earth, what they enjoyed doing, and how they earned a living, and trying to figure out details of the end of it all – there’s something about it all that fascinates.
Like: George Alexander Brown, from Little Rock, who was born in Saskatchewan, Canada in 1931. He was named for his German great-grandfather and his Irish grandfather. His Irish grandfather homesteaded in Canada’s Northwest Territories, apprenticed law, and became lieutenant governor of Saskatchewan.
The obit said George loved his early life in Scott. He and his friend George Dortch made their own water skis for skiing on Old River. He attended All Souls Church, loved scouting and the outdoors. In the winter, his interest turned to Colorado and snow skiing. He lived in his family’s home, Illallee, for many years.
George graduated from Little Rock High School in 1949. He attended Vanderbilt University, where he affiliated with Kappa Sigma fraternity. It was in college that he became close friends with an Austrian from Vienna and they visited each other’s homes. On one such visit, George learned that his friend’s father had been the personal physician of the Desert Fox, General E. Rommel. It was in Austria that he learned to paraglide over the Alps.
George served in the U.S. Army with the 101st Airborne in Texas for three years and later earned his pilot’s license. He was a cousin of Captain George Geyer Adams of Adams Field Airport.
Although George’s real loves were literature and history, he felt his family wanted him to farm their cotton place at Scott. He loved the country, but his temperament was not compatible to farming. He was fascinated by the early history of Scott and its families, which he documented in writing.
George farmed, founded Scott Products, and made his home in the community with his wife for many years. He was a member of the Country Club of Little Rock and was a Mercedes aficionado. Setbacks and disappointments later in life seemed to plague him. His Irish temperament was of no help, although he had great physical stamina and fortitude. He lived his life fully. Memorials may be made for cancer research at UAMS.
After reading it I wished I had known George Alexander Brown.
Then KM found another interesting name.
“Cherry Valley died,” she told me.
I was going to love this. “Where did Cherry hail from?” I asked her.
Silence.
Then, more silence.
“Ohhh,” she said as the realization sunk in.
We laughed about it for a minute, me slightly more than her.
“Did you see where Bella Vista died, too?” I asked. “And Van Buren? And Holly Grove?”
Her laughing had now become more of a sigh, but I was on a roll.
“And tell me, why do you think so many families of the deceased choose only to go with their first name? Like Earle and Elaine; or Jasper, Leola, Leslie, Marion, Marshall, Norman, Ola, Pocahontas (I thought she passed years ago), Roland, Scott, Taylor, Waldo, Ward, and Wilson?”
But I didn’t get my answer. KM had left the room.
Jay Edwards is editor-in-chief of the Hamilton County Herald and an award-winning columnist.
Contact him at jedwards@dailydata.com