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| Daddy And Mother And One Of Their Sons |
I count myself very fortunate to have
had for parents Anne Lee Lester Hibbett and Rufus Gleason Hibbett Sr.
As I think of them I am struck with how little I actually know about
them, I mean their deeper inner lives. Parents in their day I don't
think generally communicated their inner doubts, deepest hopes and
concerns to their children. I don't know if my parents confided more
deeply with my older brothers or not. I rather doubt it, mother even less
than Daddy. I know Daddy and my brother Lester played golf together
regularly the last decade of Daddy's life. They may have had significant
confidential conversation? My parents were simply
always there as the very stable center of my world. They were never
out of place for me. If they were not with me I knew I could expect
them at the next meal. I did not ever as a child try to imagine what
they were like at deeper levels. I just sensed that my world was
pretty much held together by them. I simply experienced them and my six older brothers as always there and central to my world.
This is not a research project so I can
easily have some facts wrong. I will greatly appreciate anyone
helping me correct such mistakes. Neither am I writing primarily chronologically. I am attempting to touch on the things about my
parents, and the atmosphere they provided, that had strong influences on me; many of which they likely
gave hardly a thought. They have both been gone for decades now so I will reflect on some areas that are too private to have mentioned before. One desire is that my recollections of their lives might bring some light and insight to our own. Some of this may only be a starter for more involved conversation by others who knew them. I trust my love, respect and profound gratitude for these two beautiful people is evident in my reflection. They named their sons: Rufus Gleason Jr, Lester Lee, George Robert, Ira Kneeland, Eugene Prosser, Barry Kenneth and James Truman. Each of these were names of close relatives except for Gene who was named for a close and supportive life-long friend my parents met when they first moved to Florence.
Daddy and Mother, or Mama, were both from
Middle Tennessee. Mother's father was a dry goods store owner in
Alexandria and Daddy's father, Ira Kneeland, was an iron factory
worker living in Lavergne. The only grandparent I ever knew was
Daddy's mother, Martha( Mattie) Carver Hibbett or grand-mama. I only
knew her from our trips for day visits with her where she lived in
an upstairs apartment with Daddy's sister in Donaldson. She always had cooked green beans and corn pones for me. Daddy's
family moved to the country in Mt. Juliet when he was very young. Mother's family I
think were permanently in Alexandria. George Robert Lester was a
rather successful business man and his family was considered upper
middle class. Thus mother was accustomed to a finer style of life than Daddy. Toward the end of his life George Lester's business failed but I
don't think he suffered anything near poverty. They were Big Mama and Big Pop to my older brothers. Mother had three
sisters and two younger brothers. One sister died as an infant and
Mother, as a teen, wrote a lengthy grieving tribute to her. Her two
brothers became separately very successful and quite wealthy with
Tennessee produce companies named for themselves. Her brother's son
Kenneth Lester Jr became one of the three founders of Cracker Barrel
in Lebanon, TN. Daddy was next to the youngest of four sisters and
two sons. Their family lived on a very slim budget and Daddy was the
first of two children to go to College. Daddy even in his adult
years was very adored by his sisters and he enjoyed the company of
his one older brother. They and grand-mama all called Daddy 'Gleason.' My mother called him 'Hibbett.' Daddy and Mother met while he was attending
Cumberland Presbyterian College and mother was attending the Church
of Christ related David Lipscomb College in Nashville.
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| The Original Coffee High School |
When Daddy finished college, in 1923
they married and moved to Florence, AL after Daddy was hired as
chemistry teacher. He very quickly also became a successful football coach at
Coffee High School. They lived the rest of their lives in Florence in
the
same house which eventually was across Cherry Street from the new
Coffee High School, 1955. Here they raised seven boys whose youngest
and oldest were twenty years apart. I am the youngest by seven
years. There was no better way to become endeared to Florence people
than to be a successful football coach. His first year Coffee High was not beat, tied or scored on until losing the final game in the state championship. What a start at age 22 and having arrived with his new bride in Florence only three months before. He surely must have felt he was on the right track for his life.
Daddy went on to be the
principal of Coffee High, and some 20 years later went into business by going into debt
to purchase Dixie Supply Co, a general sporting goods store. In 1930 school board encouraged Daddy to earn his
Masters Degree in School Administration at the prestigious Columbia
University in New York City. He did this by going to New York four consecutive summers which was quite a hardship, especially for mother who by the end of that time had six boys to raise. Still a mystery is why in the world they sent him to such a
renowned, expensive faraway University may never be understood. You'd
think that George Peabody or certainly nearby Vanderbilt or U of A would have been more than enough quality education for the principal of Coffee High. This still confounds me. I am now imagining that an individual(s) supporters funded this extravagant measure as a way to affirm Daddy in a most excellent way as Coffee High's principal and unknowingly for his eventual role as Superintendent of Florence Public schools.
In recent years the family had not been able to find His Master's Degree certificate from Columbia U. Some mistakenly began to wonder if he actually received his M.A. as we were always told. Early in 2013 I contacted the records department and Columbia U. They sent me a certified copy of his transcript. And an official notice that he had received two certificates in November of 1934, one was his MA degree and the other a certificate for work beyond the Master's degree requirements. Inserted is Daddy's academic transcript from Columbia University.(My nephew Ken Hibbett contacted me in February of 2014 saying he had found Daddy's original framed MA certificate from Columbia University in 1934. I was pleased and he has offered to give it to me the next time I am in Florence.) Daddy was
away from his young and growing
family for four summers successfully completing the continued education project. I think
this became a strong story of healthy family pride, not a shabby
accomplishment for a poor country Tennessee boy and it likely caused us
all to
highly value formal education.
While still the proprietor Hibbett and Sons Sporting Goods Daddy was elected
and served a successful term as Florence's Street Commissioner. He
left the business to three of his sons in the late fifties to become
Superintendent of Florence City Schools from which he retired in the
late sixties. The town declared a day in honor of Rufus Hibbett in 1974
while
he was still a very healthy man. He thoroughly enjoyed mingling with
so many of his friends in that setting, most of them calling him
coach or simply Mr. Hibbett.
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| Daddy As I Most Remember Him |
It is easy to mistakenly think of Daddy as
somewhat wealthy. Several of his sons became wealthy by anyone's
measure but Daddy lived his life pretty much on the thin all along.
He likely was more financially comfortable in his retirement than ever before. I
get the impression he was not a shrewd or sophisticated business man
and he did not draw more than a common salary from the store. We had
a closet fire in the fifties and Daddy considered the $500 insurance
payment as quite a wonderful and needed windfall. My brothers grew up having little that
could be considered luxury. Things were much better for me than my brothers but still clearly middle class. For one thing I benefited
indirectly from the successes of my older brothers. They gave me
gifts all along, took me on family trips and assisted with my college expenses. I've heard stories of extremely hard family times during the
depression. Daddy was well supported by more wealthy persons who
somewhat took him under their wing in such times. I know that Mr.
Griffin, a church friend, let him purchase groceries on credit with very
liberal terms. Eugene Prosser, owner of Florence Lumber Co and
church friend, helped Daddy be able to build the modest home on
Cherry Street.
During all of Daddy's public and
professional life my mother was always his strongest supporter but
never a public person herself. I do not recall her preparing social
dinners for Daddy's professional friends at our home. Emotionally
supporting Daddy and taking care of seven boys was how she spent her
days. We were a three meals a day family and I would think that and
keeping clothes washed was a full time job. Mother was undoubtedly living with less materially than she had been accustomed to. We did, like so many southern even lower-middle class families, have 'help.' (1) Most of Mother's life and
later we had an African American woman who helped with cooking,
washing and ironing and child care. Mary Springer filled this role
for some thirty years. In Mary's last decade as our 'help'
she had such severe arthritis that the only work she did was ironing.
So mother was doing the rest of the house work in those years. Mary
was emotionally accepted as part of the household but I'm sure her
pay was minimal and she lived as most blacks then, in poverty. I recall mother doing sewing at home for the store. She would sew
the letters and numbers onto the athletic uniforms the store sold to
area schools. Her sewing machine was set up in their bedroom at the front of the house. She let me clip the loose threads after her sewing.
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| Coach Rufus Hibbett And His First Football Team |
My images of Mother and Daddy's
relationship are quite remarkable, especially seen by one who
worked for fifteen years as a family counselor. I can honestly say I
never heard a mean, angry or sarcastic word from either of them, toward each other
or anyone else in the home. I truly viewed them as near perfect humans.
My primary experience as the youngest son was a
profound sense of safety and freedom. I do not remember them as
regularly engaging me in personal conversation but I never had any
worry about them not being present and supportive of my
young life. They no doubt had mellowed as parents and were very
secure in that role by the time I came along. I know they must have wished
strongly for a girl but I never even had that thought until I was grown. I
asked Daddy after I was married if I were a mistake. He laughed and
said, “No, you were not a mistake but you were surely a big
surprise.” Not only was there no fear of physical harm at home, there I was also so very safe
emotionally. It always seemed to me that these two people thoroughly
enjoyed being together in their daily routines. They routinely
kissed each other coming and going, sat near each other and I was
aware that they often gently touched as they
passed. They gave similar touch to their sons. Daddy
always intentionally kissed his boys on the lips when they were
leaving home for long periods and did the same when we returned. This
was a ritual of his. I confess I did not particularly look forward
to it but it left a deep impression on me that he wanted us to know
just how deeply he loved us. (2)
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| Mother With Oldest And Youngest Sons |
Daddy had the habit most of his adult
life of 'chewing' cigars. This was not pleasant for the rest of us
but we did not question it. It was the most obvious vise he had that
I was aware of. He only lit his cigar when we were taking
automobile trips, which usually meant a three hour drive to Nashville to visit
extended family. I can recall having my head out the back window and
suddenly have some cigar spit hitting me in the face. I did not
hesitate to complain about that but it had little effect. Also I
liked to get the carbon paper from the waste baskets at the store and
occasionally would realize my hand was in some disgusting tobacco
juice. I early on learned to wash my hands well. He gave up his
cigar, for reasons unknown to me, the last fifteen years of his life.
We
were a strong church of Christ
family(Some prefer the un-capitalized 'church.' It carries doctrinal meaning.) The Florence Hibbetts' lives revolved around dressing up and
attending church as a weekly ritual. On Sunday morning we attended
Sunday School classes at 10 AM and the church service at 11 AM.
After a Sunday dinner and no formal working we then dressed up again for Sunday
night
services at 6 PM. And every Wednesday night we wore our regular daily
clothes to church for Bible classes which we called 'prayer
meeting.' Church
attendance was never open for discussion. It is what the whole
Hibbett family did and that routine followed me into my own new family.
It continued with me as a church of Christ preacher until I was
forty years old. That style of structured church life changed for
me and my young family rather suddenly beginning in 1984. (3) I was aware that mother
attended Ladies' Bible Class every Tuesday morning at the church. And she occasionally had some of her church women friends
to lunch at our home. I think Mama's family had been long time Church of Christ members.
Daddy's father Ira K. had been strongly converted to church of Christ
teaching after he was married to Mattie Carver who was previously a
Methodist. A Baptist first cousin of mine assured me from direct
conversation that our Grand Mama was not as certain about the Church of
Christ being the only true church as her husband was.
Church was also a safe and comforting place for me. A most comforting image that I still return to is my head on Mother's lap during the service at Poplar Street Church of Christ. I could not have been more secure. I recall looking at the high ceiling of the church while in this position and knowing that was not the view that one usually had of the church. It seemed like a special privilege. And what made times of having my head on Mother's lap most soothing was the sound of the four part harmony a'capella music that is uniquely a church of Christ worship experience.
My comfort at church only
changed when I became aware as a teen that there were serious
tensions in the congregation with various families and preachers
holding strongly different views on how the church could use the
money collections it received every Sunday. Some felt it was right
for the church to send some of this to help support church related
orphans homes. Others believed this was breaking with the church of
Christ tradition of having a specific Bible proof for every detail of how
the church was organized and functioned. I was aware this was a
heavy worry on my parents as they suffered the breaking down of
long time friendships and as they saw such differences negatively
affecting the lives of their then married children. These stresses
built until there was a physical split in the congregation with each
side going its sad but confident way, trusting they were doing as the Bible
taught. I can recall Mother crying about such differences and hurt
feelings and Daddy reading his Bible and church publications late
into the night, trying to find some perspective that would put off
the harsh feelings and threatened friendships that were stirred up. And it is just as true that some with the different point of view were just as sincerely agonized and perplexed.
Daddy was very involved in the church.
He served as an elder, a place of much respect in the church of
Christ, for many years and an adult Sunday School teacher. He was generally the song leader on Sunday morning. Daddy was
a very socially interested person. He was a community person. He loved to
interact and visit with people. I remember frequently waiting
while Daddy completed a conversation at church or the local market. Daddy
was generally popular with the people who knew him both at church and
in the community. At church I was aware that some women seemed to
adore him and I think Daddy appreciated that. I'm confident
that any such appreciation was totally innocent and healthy. I can never recall
Daddy being out of place or out of line socially. I think his
enjoyment of admirers was much the same as he had experienced from
his sisters. I never sensed that mother was jealous of any
attention Daddy received from others.
I have been told by brothers that
Daddy and Mother had a very rich intimate life together. That Daddy
routinely came home for lunch from his school duties for that was
time they could be together alone. Lester reported that when he was
in medical school Daddy asked for an appointment with a urologist.
His concern was that he and mother were being sexually intimate only
twice a week whereas until then it had been significantly more
frequent. He wanted to know if that was normal. He was past fifty
then. It may be such reports, and my sensing them as fully enjoying
each others company, in part led me eventually to my strong intellectual
interest in the importance of Eros energy in human life. And of its potential
for richer human happiness than men and women have generally found
in our American culture (4)
Daddy seemed very confident of Mother being fully pleased with him. Once she learned that an old boy friend owned a large fabric salvage store in downtown Nashville. He was far more wealthy than Daddy would ever be. She asked Daddy to take her there to shop for curtain fabric. I was along and found it most boring. The owner gave them his complete attention while mother shopped and finally found a pretty gold fabric for her living and dining room curtains. When Daddy asked the price the old friend looked at Mother and said, 'Anne I would never charge you for anything in this store.' I think Daddy and Mama each won in several ways that day.
Mother had always been healthy and active. She
began to lose some weight and was proud that she could wear a size
seven dress. Daddy took her to Nashville one Sunday afternoon to leave her there a few days for radiation treatments for a diagnosed thyroid condition.
I remember her kissing me good bye as I went off to play. I was
left under the care of older brothers for a two day stint.
Following her treatments, which may not be related, Mother had a major heart attack.
She died early the next Sunday morning. I have a letter she wrote
to Daddy from the hospital advising him about clothes for school and meals for me while she was gone. I also have a post card from her assuring all was well and she would be home in a few days.This may have been just hours before her heart attack.
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| A Post Card To Me From Mama Five days before she died. |
Daddy said the most amazing thing the night that mother died at
Vanderbilt Hospital in Nashville. (The only time I ever saw him sob
were the weeks following her death.) He said, “I never said
anything to Anne that I regret.” I'm sure others would join me in
wondering how such a statement can be said in truth by any human regarding their long time partner and spouse but I never
saw or heard anything to contradict it. As we drove from Nashville to
Florence behind the hearse which carried mother's body, I sat on his
lap and he chatted reflectively the whole trip. What I heard was, “Jimmy, life will never be the same but eventually it will be good
again. I will be mother and daddy to you for as long as you need it.”
From then on my nightly prayer was that Daddy would live till I
was at least eighteen years old for I had been told you become a man
then. Daddy moved my single bunk bed into his room when we got home
and that is where I slept for about two years. He gave me ear plugs
when I complained about his snoring. A strong image in my mind is of
Daddy, already in his dress clothes for the day, wearing a full
apron while he prepared a hot breakfast, usually oatmeal, for me
every morning. He was quite a good mother and daddy for several
years. I was 35 years old when he died and I openly grieved my great
loss and only then did I also finally and clearly grieve the death of
my mother. Daddy's death was a real emotional turning point in my
life. I think I grew up a lot. I was fortunate to be in a community pastoral support group at the time.
Another quality of Daddy I took for
granted was his very lively curiosity. He was an eager
listener and full of questions when he was hearing of a subject new to him. Television came
to our house shortly after mother died and proved to be an important
part of Daddy's ongoing learning and general entertainment. Many's the time I heard and watched him chuckle at his favorite T.V. programs. When
Daddy and Mama Gene visited me in Illinois Daddy discovered purple
martin birds for the first time. We went to the small town of
Griggsville that boasts being the 'purple martin capital of the
world.' Daddy bought a martin house and took it back to Florence. He
was the first in Florence, as far as he knew, to set up martin
houses. For many summers he enjoyed a back yard full of martins. He did not like to talk about what he did to get rid of the sparrows
that would run the martins off.
Daddy enjoyed church folks but he also
had strong friendships outside of his church circle. I never saw that
much with mother. Our church denomination had a strong element of
exclusiveness to it. It was generally taught we were the only true
Christians and that others did not correctly follow the Bible's
teaching. There is no doubt that Daddy was sincere in
such beliefs, as was I until nearly age 40, but he had strong
respect and mutual friendships with non church members that
transcended any air of superiority. I can't help but think that his
years of Presbyterian College had left him with an impression
that others were as likely children of God as we were. He would thus have motivation and reason to be more open minded in religious matters than his sons due to our very limited exposure, and negative conditioning, to other kinds of churches.
Daddy called me long distance one
day when he was well into his seventies. He said, “Jim, my best
friend died yesterday.” I did not know who he meant. It was a man
across the alley from Daddy's home- Alec Wade. I assume with Alec he
had shared deeper parts of his heart all through the years. Alec was an active Church of Christ member and I recall him primarily as our neighbor across the alley. I don't think he was a part of
Daddy's professional life. So I suspect it was a friendship where the two could fully enjoy confidential conversation. I think it is accurate to say he was set apart in Daddy's life as a
'best friend' for many years. I am glad to know Daddy had such a
personal and important friendship. Many are the people who have numerous
acquaintances but how many truly close friends can a person manage?
Birthdays were not strong rituals for
us as I later found out were in most families. I honestly think that
sometimes they were barely mentioned. Maybe there was just too many of them? I don't think we typically sang
Happy Birthday at the table. No doubt there was sometimes a cake
baked. I only recall my birthday getting a lot of attention when I
turned ten which was only three days after mother unexpectedly died.
I know extended family members were giving me dollar bills to put
into a new small billfold daddy had given me. I also recall we had a
meal recognizing my birthday and I received a Hop Along Cassidy
wrist watch. For my eleventh birthday a wonderful neighbor and
church woman hosted a surprise party for me at her house and invited
my entire school class to attend. I was totally caught off guard and
had a ton of gifts. Beyond that I do not recall the details of the
party. But in general birthdays were not a central ritual for us. I
don't know why. I cannot to this day tell you anyone in my family's
birthday except that my brother Ike's is February 9, one day before
mine. Of course I know my three children's birthdays for Beverly
brought birthday celebrations back into our family.
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| Mother And Brother Lester |
We celebrated Thanksgiving day with the
traditional turkey and dressing meal. The other big event for
Thanksgiving was it was always the day of last football game of the
season for Coffee High. It was always with its strong competitor
across the Tennessee River, Sheffield High School. This family tradition
began when Daddy was Coach Hibbett and continued throughout my days
living at home.
Christmas was the grand celebration and
tradition at our house. We believed in Santa Clause. Some of my most
exciting times as a child was the build up to Christmas. My older
brothers had believed that Santa had a workshop in our basement. This
is where Daddy would build some crude toys for Christmas presents
and where he would restore and paint used bicycles to pass on to the
younger brothers. My brothers told of how they would yell to Santa
through the floor registers and he would reply assuring them he was
preparing gifts and advising they keep being good little boys.
Christmas eve meant going to bed early so as to not interfere with
Santa coming and bringing gifts. There was no doubt in my mind each
year that he had eaten the cookies and milk we set out for him.
Before going to sleep some older brothers would come in to assure me
all was going well. While still dark but no earlier than five am I
was told I could go to the dark living room and bring my stuffed
stocking back to bed. There I would excitedly pour out the contents
of fruit, nuts, candy, rolls of caps, nearly always a small
flashlight and sparklers and a roman candle sticking out the top.
Christmas morning I was never disappointed when while just at
daybreak I made my way to the decorated living room. The room's
floor was covered with presents and the Santa gifts were there
unwrapped. I can recall a football uniform with helmet, an electric
football game, new winter clothes, a small pool table, a cap pistol
and holster, a tiny portable radio, a brand new red 24 inch bike. On
my 16th birthday was a card on the tree saying that at the
family store I would find a 12 foot feather-craft boat with a new 35
horsepower Evinrude motor. That wonderful gift was to become what
was no less than an introduction to the world of 'the lake' that
was to be my teen salvation. (5) Later Christmas morning my older
brothers , now with children of their own , would arrive bringing
more gifts and food for a Christmas dinner. Daddy, often dressed as
Santa would hand out the wrapped gifts from beneath the tree and they
would be opened as they were passed out. As the youngest son with now
much older brothers I had a larger pile of gifts than anyone. I was
very happy and full of wonder on Christmas.
Another excitement of the Christmas season involved the reality that most North, AL towns did not allow the sale of serious fireworks. So most teens and young adults made their way sometime before Christmas to the TN-AL state line, about 15 miles, to buy firecrackers, cherry bombs , silver torpedoes and other rather dangerous fireworks to be part of the our Christmas celebrations. Once a Roman Candle backfired on our front porch and I received second degree burns on my feet which were bare on a Southern Christmas night.
Of interest our church of Christ did
not believe that Christmas should be celebrated in a religious way.
There was nothing at church to remind one of the Christmas story. There was no observance of the Days of Advent leading up to Christmas Day. The only sign of the holiday was that the children received a clear plastic bag generously filled with fruit and candy the Sunday before Christmas. That was a gift I very much prized, sort of an early Christmas stocking. I figured they must be from Santa. I
have mused that as wonderful as Christmas was and as exciting,
we were among the first to make 'Christ'mas, except for 'Saint' Nick, a totally secular
experience. That is rather amazing to consider for a strong Christian family.
Our family rituals would not be
complete without mentioning our summer trips to the Smokey Mountains
where we camped out in tents for a week. We camped at Smoke Mont National Camp Ground. This must have been a very
inexpensive vacation for my parents. The women, with help from the men, still cooked all the
meals and likely with less expensive food. The main extra expense was
gasoline for the 600 miles round-trip to Cherokee, North Carolina.
While there we did not seek out any expensive entertainment but
mainly just enjoyed the cool sweet smelling mountain air, the
sounds and feel of the cold clear mountain streams and stories and singing around the campfire at night. And the excitement of wondering each night if a bear would prowl outside our tent. Even after
mother's death I recall a trip to the mountains when Daddy dawned his
high top tennis shoes to hike with me up the cold water creek, where I had first learned to swim.
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| Daddy(hands on me)And Four Brothers, Nephew. Soon After Mother Died |
I
was a very free child. I received a
new bicycle for Christmas when I was in the second grade. Daddy took
me to the Coffee high football field and taught me to ride it , no
doubt as he had done with six sons before me. From then on I was free
to ride that bike after school and during the summer to any place in
our town of 25,000. One of my favorite and regular trips was to the
family store Dixie Supply later named Hibbett and Sons Sporting
Goods. It was about three miles to the downtown store. Growing up
that was one of my main hangouts. My Daddy and several brothers were usually
there and I was completely comfortable with them all. As I
aged I also worked at the store as cleanup and sweep up person,
clerk, seamstress, package deliverer, trophy engraver, football face
mask installer and
many other tasks. My parents were all well with this.
I was quite
alone much of the time in my bike travels, except for my loyal and
always present cocker spaniel Blackie. But I always knew where to go
for help or with any questions. Both parents were fully available. I
never recall feeling any pressure about life's future. I had no
experiences of competition with my older brothers. They were more
like caring father figures to me growing up. Daddy or mother neither
ever predicted or stated any dream they had for my life. I think
that was much because I was by far the youngest and they had already
been well pleased by the accomplishments of their sons. So they had
no unhealthy need to 'get' me to be anything other that what I would
choose as life unfolded. I think that was unusual for a child and I
think it was good for me in the long run. My work interests and experiences have been a continual surprise to me over my life time.
My
parents seemed to have had no
compulsive preaching to do at me as parents often do. I recall no stern warning lectures etc. I
however did manage to be subtly and strongly impressed regarding
matters of our church's
superiority and to some strict moral mandates, such as no dancing,
cussing, card playing, drinking or marrying outside our church. I did not question the ethical and mental health dangers of the thoughtless acceptance of such arbitrary absolutes until well into
my adult years. I think my parents let the church have its full way with me
and failed to encourage me to think for myself about such religious and ethical matters. I
was
very easily impressed by my adult church teachers. I was taught to respectfully reserve the title of 'Brother' and Sister' for the adults of our Church of Christ, implying that other adults were not my full spiritual brothers and sisters. I cannot compliment
my parents in this one area of parenting responsibility. Yet I'm confident even
this, at some irrational level, is as it had to be in our time and situation. I surely do not carry
any resentment regarding such things. At best parents can only
teach what they feel is best and true knowing a child will grow from
the soil with which they nurture him/her. What really helps is if the parent lets
the child know that it is OK to eventually find a path(s)
that is better and truer for themselves in some ways than what they were given at the start. I think parents should not presume in any specifics what the unfolding life of a child in their care will eventually look like or where he/she will go. This I think pays the highest honor to what human life is.
If I stopped here I think I would be selling my
Daddy short. From time to time he said things that indicated he was not always thinking in such moral absolutes. He even sort of confused me a time or two. My
senior class got in trouble for drinking on our senior trip. The
principal had laid down the absolute law that 'anyone taking a drink
will be expelled for the year.' Our class was brought before the school
board and my Dad as Superintendent. We were asked to stand if we had
taken a drink on the trip. All but five, of 250, of my class mates stood up. I
was one of the five. When Daddy saw me not standing he announced to the assembly that
this issue involving so many should become the problem of the school
board not just the principal. This let the principal off the harsh hook he had made for himself and a more appropriate consequence was
meted out to the students. Daddy thanked me the next day for behaving
myself so well on the trip and said if I had had drunk he would not have
been able to do what he did, for it would appear he was working
primarily on his son's behalf. And then he said, " Jimmy as much as I am
proud and thankful that you did not drink, I can fully understand how
an 18 year old their first time in New York might take a drink. What is
most important is you and no one else was hurt." He left it at that.
Another
incident: I showed him a paper I had written as a college freshman where
I was attempting to discredit any truth or value to the Theory of
Evolution. Instead of praising me after he read it he said, " I can see
the importance of what you are writing about here. I can only say as a past science teacher I've sometimes thought there may be
something important to learn from such a widely used and
hard-won concept as evolution."
I cannot help but see these as examples of
Daddy gently hinting that I had the right and responsibility to
think beyond the dogmatic statements of our religion. I think of it as similar to Jesus telling the apostles that it was OK to break the religious tradition of eating with unwashed hands and that it was proper for David of old to share the Alter bread with his hungry friends...that there are in reality few if any absolute ethical rules. What is required of us morally is thoughtful and personally responsible discernment which can more likely yield the highest truth to life's issues. He was
not telling me to pay no attention to church and its Biblical
interpretations, quite the opposite, but he was suggesting to not use these as an excuse for
dismissing other possible interpretations and needed responses to life. This I suspect is likely how a person moves closer to practicing, 'Judge not that ye be not judged.' This was a
deeper, maybe unintentional, part of my parents' influence that later assured me the freedom
and responsibility they had granted me in so many ways needed to
eventually be humbly claimed in all areas of life. Maybe Daddy didn't go to
Columbia University and spend four summers in New York City away from familiar surroundings for nothing? Those experiences likely had a very mind-opening effect on him. He no doubt rubbed shoulders and shared stories with many different kinds of people. He was blessed in such ways that most men in his home surroundings were not. And that in turn must have made him feel a higher and broader responsibility. No doubt it helped him learn the
value of thinking 'outside the box' of the absolutes of the conventional wisdom of his specific environment. From wherever it came and however I perceived it that way, I'm very grateful to have sensed that subtle perspective in him.
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| 637 N. Cherry St. Florence, AL |
Of significance, I was not seriously punished during my childhood, physically or otherwise. Daddy never spanked me.(6) I
have no image of him ever looking at me with anger, grumpiness, irritation or a threatening eye.
Again keep in mind I am number seven and seven years younger than
the next. I do not recall being doted over or being the center of
attention either. Mother and Daddy did not build their lives around me. I
fit in with their lives and they allowed me much leeway. But my needs were never ignored or made
light of. I was very free, within limits of safety, in so many amazing ways but it was not quite 'anything goes.' Mother sent me to get a switch on one
occasion. I had, while playing outside in what we called 'the ditch', purposely dropped a large hard dirt clod on my brother's head
for no reason that I could give. It was just something I was able to
do. She had me pull down my pants and I danced with the unforgettable sting of that
switch. I was fully convicted that what I had done was truly and
seriously wrong and harmful. That is the only spanking I recall getting. I
think I always considered myself fortunate to have these parents and that assessment has
grown throughout my life. I do not think it can be credibly charged that I was spoiled in any character destructive or parentally irresponsible way.
Three years after mother's death life
had settled into a new groove in our home, though one that had not become normal
or fully comfortable for me. But I had no way to know that I had not found a way to
appropriately grieve my mother's death. I was aware that I had
worries about Daddy's lonely nights sitting in his living room chair by his book shelf and about him dying before I was prepared. I think I felt somewhat
responsible for him and purposely did not stay gone as much as I
would have, especially at night. I was thirteen. Then totally out of the blue
Daddy announced that he had fallen in love and was planning to marry
Imogene Longshore Hovater.
Gene had been one of Daddy's first
students at Coffee High and was roughly ten years younger. She was
the head of the cosmetic department at Rogers Department Store,
Florence's most elegant store. Her husband had died two decades
earlier and she had a son who was a Lt. Commander in the navy. I was
taken much by surprise and was hardly able to be in touch with my ambivalent feelings. Daddy assured me that he would always be
fully available to me and that Gene was not there to replace my
mother. He also told me her family had a place on the lake and that
we would likely spend much time there.
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| Mama Gene and Sheri |
That part for sure sounded good to
me. It was somewhat awkward at first having an unexpected woman in my
life. I was glad I still had two older brothers living
at home. Their presence was a great comfort to me. But I knew they would soon be leaving. I agreed to call
her Mama Gene and my older brothers called her that also. She was an attractive and
kind person, great cook, wonderful house keeper, more cultured than we were, and
often brought me home clothes from Rogers. I sadly was not very
good at welcoming her into my life. Daddy even talked to me gently
once saying she was not feeling very welcome. I felt relief that my
coldness was noticed and assured him I could probably do better and I
did. It was truly a 'not you , its me' thing. I was just not ready
for a new mother and likely never would be.
Mama Gene had a complicated role
placed on her in coming into the home where our mother had been so
adored. She and I never established an emotional mother-son connection but
I did come to greatly appreciate her and I was glad that Daddy was
not alone. Daddy attended many funerals from all his community
involvement. He once said he liked to go to a funeral for it was ' a
time to have a good cry.' My parents like all parents I am sure had
their share of heartache, loneliness and sadness.
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| Mother With Brothers Gene and Barry |
It seems my effort to pay tribute to
my parents has more focused on my father. I knew Daddy for 37 years and
mother for only the first ten. And only five of those involve my conscious memory. Like most women of her time and social circumstance she was
a homemaker. Her life's center was caring daily for her husband and
seven sons. My reflection unintentionally shows the common situation then, a married woman had relatively few opportunities for public influence and community interests outside the home. In addition to the prevailing cultural discrimination of women the church of Christ, taking New
Testament organizational statements of the apostle Paul as forever applicable, did not
afford women to be in positions of church leadership. The emphasis
was always for women to be 'in submission' and regarding church issues to 'ask their husbands at home.'
I think, and hope, she was quite happy in very important ways. She
whistled often and it was to me a sound of contentment but how can I
know? I know she was rather sensitive and she sometimes had her
feelings hurt, usually from interactions outside the home. I can
recall hearing her privately cry at times. I so like to believe that their
intimacy, which Daddy must have confided to some brothers, was as joyful to her as it apparently was to him. My belief is that
such joy can only be full when experienced by both partners, not just one. And yet I know they
lived in a very sexist environment, as everyone did. Man and Woman
relationships, including institutional marriages, were not mutual in
many heartbreaking respects, especially in retrospect. And I'm quite confident that Eros must have mutuality
to fully bloom and bring its highest joys. This couple surely must have had
as full a share of intimate and balanced love as was possible
in their day and circumstance. I think that is what we mean, even if not fully aware of it, when we say of a couple, " I hope they are happy." It is my hopeful belief that the human race has yet to fulfill this Eros potential of spiritual/earthbound life. I think of Anne and Rufus as a good example of the developing process of a more complete love experiences in humanity's future. I am indebted to them for providing an early atmosphere
that has been supportive to me in my efforts to follow a dream of
love throughout my life. (7)
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| Anne And Rufus With Their Seven Sons |
Any reader of this blog can draw their
own conclusion of how much I have idealized or psychologized my two human parents.
I do not deny there is some of that going on here. But I have shared as
objectively and honestly as I can the kinds of influence these two special persons had on me as one who happened to be the
youngest of their seven sons. (8) I'm confident that Mama and Daddy left their earthly lives knowing, as much as it is possible for one human to know of another, just how much each of their sons adored and respected them for their labor of love in being our faithful parents..
Jim Hibbett
Notes And Related Blog Posts:
Two important books regarding post-slavery days in the Deep South:
The Help by Kathryn Stocketts 2009 and The Store- 1933 by Thomas S. Stribling, a graduate of Florence State College, now U of N AL
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