“Our Dad was a loving, intelligent, simple, complicated, respectful, efficient, and humble man.

He had high expectations for himself and those around him and to tell the truth, as his son, that made life a little tough at times.  He taught us by example, to accept all people.

Dad did not see color or nationality, but seeing that he had two wonderful wives, I believe he did see gender.

I knew that he was intelligent, now I may not have admitted it until after I was 25 years old, but I don’t believe I ever knew he graduated first in his class at Clemson.   And I did not know that he had patents or that he ever invented anything, but I know, I will never look at a black garbage bag the same way again.  (My note, Bill’s team at Union Carbide invented the black plastic garbage bag.)

As far as my memories:

• Early Saturday mornings to go buy tires or to the hardware store.
• Him coaching my baseball team to the city championship.
• Any sport – he was my biggest fan.
• Talking my mom into letting me buy a motorcycle.
• Summer trips together to look at colleges.
• Member Guest golf tournaments at Keowee Key.

Places he took me that have made a lasting impression, one was the golf course.  Golf is something we shared, time we spent together playing or watching.

The other was church.  Emily, our oldest child mentioned the other day, “that she was thinking of something to remember Granddaddy by.”   We were sitting at the dinner table and had just blessed the food and I said “Jesus, he gave us Jesus.”  “He took me to church and I take you to church and without him we would not know Jesus.”So if you are wondering what it was that made this man so accepting, so giving, and so nice to be around, I can tell you it is because he knew Jesus.”

These boys have been a source of great comfort to me as have my own children and all six grandchildren of Bill’s and mine–our blended family has been a good mix!  Bill and Joann Coogler are to be honored and remembered for the legacy left within their children.

Bill Coogler was tenderly tough: he gave me ‘Month a versary flowers the 26^th’ of every month. He loved all 6 grandchildren, five children,their spouses, and delighted in their accomplishments. We danced to shag tunes in the kitchen, den, dance club, cruises, and parties. We enjoyed road-trips that looped the country from Florida to Arizona and cruises to Hawaii and Alaska. We danced on cruise ships in Bermuda and Nova Scotia. We relished quiet times away from the clatter of remodeling in Greenville’s West End. Our favorite trips were to Sapphire Valley, Edisto Beach, New Orleans, Clinton, and Winston-Salem. Bill was an avid supporter of Clemson Athletics and his favorites were football and baseball.

Bill said in April 2010 at Edisto Island after waking up: “I’m dying and I saw myself in Heaven in a white robe.”  In ICU at Oconee Hospital he said the arms of the “Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit are around me.” Also he said “the prayers of many have kept me alive”.

The following scriptures were read by my pastor, Rev. Jeremy Garrett: Psalm 27:13-14; Revelation 21:4; Revelation 21:22-23. The Holy Spirit gave me the following scripture in the emergency room at Self Memorial Hospital when I was having trouble whispering to Bill that I would be alright and he could go to Jesus, he died two hours later.

Revelation 22:7; Revelation 22:12-14.

He finished the race and kept the faith.

Breathing deeply, we smelled salt air tinged with the scent of seaweed.  We marveled at the free symphony of seagulls, sandpipers, and pelicans.  The great blue heron kidnapped his kill, and robbed his egret rival again and again.  Wordless, we wandered through the shell tokens brought in by a recent tide.  We searched and hoped for a perfect tidal gem from the tumbling surf.

Sunsets, sea oats, seashells, and silky sand,

Flirting with Utopia,

My love and I walk hand in hand.

In memory of my fellow shell seeker, Bill Coogler, and all our trips to Edisto Island from 1997-2010

Dusk at Bay Point where we stay 'Pon Top Edisto'

On the Edisto Indian Trail

It’s easy to forget the lessons from a message like the one Steve encountered. Life reverted back to same ol’, same ol’. We grew older and the children more involved in activities outside of Coon’s Creek, the nickname for our farm.  Steve was a workaholic and relived his job each night with me at home. His parents lived in Greenville and became unable to get to a grocery store or care for their home and yard. It was time to move them to Coon’s Creek.  My mother-in-law, B.B., was one of the kindest, gentlest persons I have ever met. But, my father-in-law had the disposition of a cheetah with his tail being pulled. We marveled at her patience with him.

The majority of the responsibility for his parents had fallen on Steve as the only Massey child nearby. They depended on him heavily while they lived in Greenville. Steve’s office was five miles from them.  It was difficult for him to juggle the responsibility for their errands and keep up with his work. I had to be near the house, twenty miles away from my in-laws, to be with the children when they came home from school. Steve was sitting on a ticking time bomb with the stress in his body.

Steve loved to hunt, fish, and just walk in the woods behind our house. He and his brother, Don, who lived in Charlotte, sometimes hunted and fished together. A tree stand was Steve’s favorite place– hunting deer and bear. He collected guns, knives, and his own hunting stories. He used our woods to sight in his rifle. Without any warning his eyes began to blur and he couldn’t see through the scope of his shotgun. He began to fall in the house and also at work. And so began a long year from doctor to doctor to…we had been invaded by something, but what?

One mistaken diagnosis followed another until we ventured into the office of a neurologist.  Steve went through a lot of in office tests, but the doctor felt that a spinal tap was necessary. ”I think you have a neurological disease, I just don’t know which one.”

The medicinal smell of the hospital was nauseating.  Nurses’ shoes squeaked on tile floors; monotonous paintings adorned faded green walls. The clatter of the steel instrument cart stopped inside Steve’s room. My heart jumped at the sight of large instruments sheathed in sterile coverings.   The neurologist burst through the door as if entering a subway train. It was 1985 and serious lab tests were sometimes performed in a patient’s room.

The nurse looked at my husband’s identification bracelet, “Steve Massey?” she questioned.  “That’s me, all day long,” Steve replied.  The nurse injected him with a medicine to make him relax, but she didn’t give me any.

Stepping next to the bed, the doctor explained, “Steve, you’ll have to be motionless as the needle goes in to your back.  If there’s movement, you’ll get a horrible headache.”

I gripped Steve’s hand as the needle grated against the cartilage and tissue in his spine.  The doctor handed the vial of spinal fluid to the nurse. “We’ll send this to MIT for testing.”

Five days after the hospital trip, I picked up the phone to learn the invader’s name, multiple sclerosis.  The words MS brought me to my knees in prayer, “Why us Dear Lord, why us?” I cried.

A NOTE:  Grief can be confusing when the losses occurred in the same season of the year even though far apart in time, Steve, Jan. 31, 1996 and Bill, Feb. 4, 2011.  Indeed the two grief experiences have been very different.  I am going to interrupt the Steve Series to return to Edisto Island, SC where Bill and I spent so many happy moments including our honeymoon. Hopefully, my sister will be able to join me. There will be a posts next week  as I remember Bill and our Camelot—Edisto Island, SC and memories from the Celebration of his life, February 6, 2011.

The Steve Series will continue after I return from the Lowcountry.

Stephanie, our daughter, found an injured baby chicken who eventually laid green eggs. One day, after returning home from the grocery store, I found the chicken in the house. I had strict rules about animals in the house, but Steve enjoyed breaking them. My first husband was a bit of a rogue and very independent. He prided himself on taking care of his own life and his family with no help from outside sources. He wasn’t prone to be social unless it was a family gathering.  Steve did give his heart to the Lord in later years, but while we lived in Easley didn’t pay much attention to spiritual matters, until the spring of 1980.

It was very early on a Monday morning when Steve awoke me.  “I just had a vision. It wasn’t a dream, it was a vision and I was walking around in it.”

“Tell me about it,” I mumbled, half awake.

“I was in a place with beautiful mountains. The hills were lush and green. I saw my Grandpa Masters walking toward me.  Sylvester Sylvanus Masters was Steve’s maternal grandfather who had been dead since 1956.  He spoke to me, “Steve, there is a lady in our family who is very ill and she’s afraid. She doesn’t have much longer to live. I need for you to give her a message. Tell her everything will be alright, she doesn’t need to fear, she’s going to see Jesus.”

“Grandpa took me to a white house and a man opened the door. I went inside and there were several people there.  Grandpa Masters told me that this man would lead me to the sick lady.  Grandpa hugged me and said goodbye and that was all I saw of him. Now I’ve got to figure out who this lady is and how to find her. I’ve been made a messenger for God.”

This was pretty amazing to hear when I first woke up. I asked him if I could help but he said, “No, I’m going to see if my cousin Weldon knows if anyone is sick in the family.”  Weldon Masters worked for Duke Power out of the Liberty, SC office.

Steve later recounted his conversation with Weldon. “I called him first thing when I got to the office. I asked him if anyone in the family was on the verge of dying. He said he didn’t know, but would call his mother.”

Later that night Weldon called. “Steve, it seems there’s a lady in the family, a Christine Riggins, who is a cousin of ours. She has a serious heart condition and on her deathbed at Greenville Hospital.”

“Thanks Weldon…Steve paused. Do you know if she has a pastor?”

“Yes she does, I have an aunt who keeps up with family better than I do, I think I wrote down the name of the church, Praters Creek Baptist. After he gave Steve the name, Steve hesitated, “Weldon, do you believe in visions and God?” Weldon replied, “I believe in God and I’m sure he can send a vision.”

Steve told him the details of the vision. Weldon wished him well in his search and asked Steve to let him know the outcome.

Steve called the pastor of Christine’s church and made an appointment. Steve got the impression that the pastor didn’t think Steve was mentally stable. Later,  he shared the details of  his road trip and his conversation with the pastor:

“After I turned off the highway, I turned on the road to the pastor’s house. The road and his house were exactly like the one I saw in the vision. I knew the man that opened the door because that was where Grandpa Masters had left me in the vision.  The pastor led me into his house and we talked. I asked if he had a member named Christine Riggins. He said, yes, but that she wasn’t a member, but her husband, Luther, was.

“Christine hasn’t been to church in a long while. She’s been ill since the mid-50′s with a heart condition. When I have visited her I’ve noticed her Bible that’s very well worn from use.”

“Pastor, you may think I’m crazy, but I have a message from the Lord and my Grandpa Masters for her. Could you take me to see her?”

“Yes, let me call Luther and see if we can go to his house to talk with him, if he isn’t at the hospital.”

After the pastor called, he and Steve rode over to see Mr. Riggins. When Steve explained why he was there and the vision, he wept. “We have been praying for a miracle in this community. There is so much sickness and depression. This is that promise of eternity and encouragement we all needed.”

Steve felt so strongly about his part in this that he made a recording about the entire event. That recording is one of only two audios of his voice that we still have.

He remarked at the end of the recorded message. “I’m glad that God saw fit to make me a part of the message that needed to get to this lady. I hope, if I ever have to take a message to someone else that he will fit me in better clothing to be His messenger.”

That spring of 1980, Steve didn’t know what the years ahead would bring him, but he was about to take on the clothing of an eleven year journey that none of us would have ever envisioned, or wanted, for him.

Ann and Steve Massey Circa 1980 at a friend’s wedding

There were lots of good parts to being a stay at home mom, but the downside was that money was scarce. Steak wasn’t on the menu when Max(ine) was around. That summer of ’82 we were growing Leonard the Goat. The rest of the provisions would be field peas and cornbread, field peas and cornbread and…..Steve provided for us well throughout his career as Ma Duke’s child, but sometimes the money almost ran out before the month did.  Our 15 acres of land included a Russian boar, goats, steak on the hoof[1], chickens, and a garden. Our land was our grocery store.  

With the advent of Max(ine) and Vivy, we decided that Leonard the Goat was going down. Steve and two of his neighbor friends took poor Leonard to the abattoir[2] at Fountain Inn outside of Greenville. They waited while Leonard was executed without benefit of a trial. Leonard died so that we could host a goat b-cue.  When Steve and I had a pig pickin’, goat b-cue or anything related to eating we invited the neighbors. They came bringing covered dishes and loads of young ‘uns. Our 6 ft. aluminum table went up for the food. Steve had a hole in the side yard to heap coal into, and a grate. We covered the hole with part of an aluminum roof to trap the heat from the fire. The goat was sandwiched between the aluminum roof and the grate.

Forty eight hours before Leonard was to be grilled, Steve marinated him to ‘purge the wild’ out of the meat.  See Marinade below.[3]After Leonard was fully marinated he was moved to the grilling site and was mopped intermittently with eastern North Carolina mopping sauce. [4] The mop had to be a sturdy stick as long as your arm with cheese cloth or a torn up sheet tied around the end.  Mop the inside and outside of the goat. Men, women, and children took turns and soon Leonard was a crispy critter with barbecue flavoring.

We were now nearly four weeks into Max(ine’s) visit. Steve’s mom, Grandma B.B. used to say, ‘fish and company smell after three days, our company was really stinkin’.

Steve developed a plan to send Max(ine) and Vivy back from whence they came. “I’ll go and get some cheap wine, and after the goat b cue, load the cooler with goat sandwiches and wine. I’ll ease Max(ine) into the notion of getting home sick to see his roots in the Lowgrounds.” He asked me to check our food money for the rest of the month to find out if we could buy him a bus ticket. I checked and reported, “We can only get them as far as Salisbury, NC, then they’re on their own.” Steve chuckled, “Well, if I get them relaxed enough they won’t pay any attention to the ticket, until the bus driver tells them they have to get off in Salisbury.”  That’s how Max(ine) and Vivy left the goat b-cue, very relaxed and full of goat meat. Steve put them on the bus in Greenville, of course, the bus would stop in Kings Mountain before it landed in Salisbury. We held our breaths through the next day. One dreaded thought was, ‘What if he cashes in his ticket at Kings Mountain and comes back?’

Apparently they did make it back to the Lowgrounds, Max(ine) called a few times after that. I would say, “Steve isn’t home” whether he was or not. Steve realized that Max(ine) in the house could become a permanent condition. This now infamous Massey event is a good lesson for not wearing out your welcome in somebody else’s house. You might end up with a wine headache and goat sandwiches.

I don’t know if Max Massey is dead or alive, but I pray that he made it from the Lowgrounds to the highest ground of all if he has passed.

In memory of a brown-eyed soft hearted man: Steve Massey

December 9, 1940-January 31, 1996

I do chase a lot of rabbits in these stories. They are necessary for the telling of the story, stay with me here!

Dateline—Hot as a firecracker August, 1980 on Blacksnake Rd. Easley SC—aka Coon’s Creek (the nickname for our 15 acre farm, complete with cow pond and a snaky creek.

“Hey Stevie, howsa boy!” Max Massey’s voice boomed over the phone.  “Long time, no hear from Maxine!”  Using their nicknames for each other was standard when these two first cousins exchanged greetings.

Ohhhh, I groaned in my head, “not him, not another marathon visit.”  Max and the rest of Steve’s extended family lived near the Princeton and Smithfield areas of North Carolina. The nearest town of any size was Goldsboro. Princeton was Max’s exact location, known as the Lowgrounds, along the Neuse River.  Smithfield has two claims to fame.  Ava Gardner[1] and Al Massey[2], see Boxrec for Al’s picture and bio. Incidentally, Al used to run in some of the same circles as Ava and Frank Sinatra[3] during their brief and stormy marriage.

Back to Blacksnake Road– Cousin Max(ine) was always down on his luck. I never knew him when he wasn’t. He roamed from his brother, John’s to ‘Tommy-tommy’ Massey, a first cousin, to his poor Aunt Lanie, to Steve, then back through the circuit again. Once upon a better life, Max(ine) had a house, a good job, and a family.  This was until he fell in love with a host of immoral, illegal, and fattening behavior.

One day, upon arriving home, his wife, Cissy, had dumped all his belongings in the front yard. He would have tried to get in the house, but found himself staring down the barrel of Cissy’s newly purchased shotgun. Cissy said she got it for squirrels and rabbits, but I’m thinking she was preparing to run Max(ine) off in grand fashion.

With no wife and young’uns, and all his earthly goods piled up in his rag tag car, he finally found a boarding house.[4]  Beset by his latest difficulties Max(ine) turned to strong drink and laying out of work. You guessed it, he lost his gainful employment and became the vagabond cousin of the Princeton, NC branch of the Massey family.

My next writings will be in honor and memory of a brown-eyed handsome man, Steve Massey, my first husband and co-author of our two children.  I want to introduce you to Steve, first in a serious way, then go to the funny stories from our young years on the farm, the triumph of his salvation, a message from God, and his long illness leading up to his death date of, January 31, 1996. He was dedicated to God, country, his family, and a host of friends, two footed and four footed! He was a fighter of MS, an innovator, and my best friend for 25 years. So far, my story titles are: The Customer’s Helping Hand from the Duke Power Newsletter, Max(ine)Massey and the Escape from Kings Mountain, Parts I,II and maybe III, Steve’s Story: An Aquarium of Illness, Parts I, II and maybe III. The last story in the Steve Series will be Steve’s  Eulogy co-authored by me and former Greenville News writer, Luther Gaillard, a family friend. These are by no means all the stories I will write and have already written about Steve. But leading up to the anniversary of his death date, these are the ones that stick to my bones like a goat-b-cue sandwich. Enjoy with me the laughter, tears, and memories, of the first love of my life.

Here we go:

The Customer’s Helping Hand

Greenville, SC—“He would always go out of his way to help people,” a coworker said of Steve Massey.  This was just one of many positive comments that were expressed when Massey retired after 25 years with Duke. He spent 18 years as a commercial marketing representative and previously was a residential marketing rep. He began his career in 1961 in the engineering department.

Massey viewed his position as a liaison between the customer and the company.  He feels marketing is a public relations business, and he always tried to make another friend for the company.  Although jobs in the marketing area have become more specialized, he said, computers have improved efficiency and allowed reps. to spend more time with customers.

Part of his job was training new commercial marketing employees.  He shared his experience and knowledge of the job with recruits.  Outside the company, he was involved with Junior Achievement and the United Way.

A coworker said of Massey, “He could go farther, stay longer, get more done and come back quicker than any other representative in the commercial marketing area.”

Massey met Ann Lewis in Winston-Salem, where he worked as a residential representative. They married and had two children. –Sandi Mills, Duke Power Retiree Newsletter, August,1986

Great Aunt Ann and Fightin' Lucy

God’s Showstoppers

My sister’s family has three of God’s showstoppers. The first one is a little girl, with red hair and heart shaped lips.  This three year old had an armada of praying people remembering her and her parents each night for eight months. The miracle of a child came after the heartbreak of multiple miscarriages.  For many years, my nephew, Norian, and his wife, Caroline, hoped and prayed for a baby. As a family, we, along with many friends hoped and prayed with them. Prayer has the power to change things and for this young couple, the change has been positive. For the first time, I became a great aunt.  As I held this little bundle I felt the shock and awe of a smooth skinned miracle. Evva Katherine Hanes Fordham is a showstopper.

Acts Two and Three of God’s Showstoppers came October 25, 2011. Evva Kate was joined by a sister, Lucinda Jean Hanes Fordham and a brother, Norian Travis Hanes Fordham. Lucy is two minutes older than her brother, Norian T.  These events are incredible to me also, because the parents of these beautiful people are in their early forties. God is blessing them with a wonderful team of helpers and much needed stamina.

Surely, Abraham and Sarah of the Old Testament felt the awe of a miracle as they held Isaac for the first time. They never thought a baby would bless them when they were beyond childbearing years. Sarah laughed inwardly when the Lord visited them to tell of the impending birth. (Genesis 18:10-15)

In both testaments of the Bible, God presented showstoppers to His people. Joshua 6 relates the story of Joshua finding out he was standing on holy ground. Joshua followed God’s directives in showing the Israelites how to take the city of Jericho. God told Joshua and the Israelites to march around the city of Jericho once a day for six days. The seventh day, God would have the people circle the city seven times.  The seventh day as they circled the city for the seventh time there would be a huge blast from a ram’s horn and the people were to give a great shout. The wall of the city of Jericho would fall flat. Joshua and the Israelites followed the commands of the Lord to take the city of Jericho. What a showstopper that had to be!

Just like a large basketball powerhouse playing a small school, no one gave David a chance to defeat Goliath. But David stopped the show with a rock between the eyes of the mighty Philistine. (I Samuel 17: 49-50)

Mary and Martha sent for Jesus after the death of their brother, Lazarus. They were very sure that Jesus was too late in raising their brother from the dead. When Jesus raised

Him, the people were certainly amazed. Imagine being present as Lazarus emerged from the grave!  (John 11:1-48)

Little Evva, Lucy, and Norian T. will certainly see miracles in their lifetimes.  Little Lucy has become miracle material herself. Because of an intestinal disorder, Lucy hasn’t joined her siblings at home yet. She is quite a storm trooper, having survived three surgeries since her October birth. The hope is that she will be able to come home around the first of February.

When Evva Kate was born she nestled in a bassinette that many family members have used.  Those of us who have emerged from that bassinette have seen the miracle of television, radio, a man walking on the moon, GPS systems, and hand held computers.

Baby Jesus had a manger for a bassinette and computers aren’t mentioned in the Bible, but the prayers of family and friends are ageless. These three little showstoppers will be surrounded by Jesus’ love that will more than meet their needs.

Great Aunt Ann and Norian Travis Hanes Fordham

Great niece, Evva Kate Hanes Fordham, Joy and Faith McMann (two of my grands!)

I wasn’t the following man’s schoolteacher! We had to have the garage door repaired.  The Sears repairman told us that one of our problems was that we did not have a ‘large’ enough motor on the opener.  I thought for a minute, and said that we had the largest one Sears made at that time, a 1/2 horsepower.  He shook his head and said, “Lady, you need a 1/4 horsepower.”  I responded that 1/2 was larger than 1/4.  He said, “No, it’s not. Four is larger than two.”  We haven’t used Sears repair since.  

The Dense Diner:   
My daughter and I went through the McDonald’s take-out window and  I gave the clerk a $5 bill.  Our total was $4.25, so I also handed her a quarter.  She said, “You gave me too much money.”  I said, “Yes I  know, but this way you can just give me a dollar bill back.”  She sighed and went to get the manager who asked me to repeat my request.  I did so, and he handed me back the quarter, and said “We’re sorry but we cannot do that kind of thing.”  The clerk then proceeded to give me back $1 and 75 cents in change.  

Space Cadet Crossing: I live in a semi-rural area.  We recently had a new neighbor call the local township administrative office to request the removal of the DEER CROSSING sign on our road.  The reason: “Too many deer are being hit by cars out here!  I don’t think this is a good place for them to be crossing.”

A Real Happening in Alabama: I was at the airport, checking in at the gate when an airport employee asked, “Has anyone put anything in your baggage without your knowledge?”  To which I replied, “If it was without my knowledge, how would I know?”  He smiled knowingly and nodded, “That’s why we ask.”

She has a job?: The stop-light on the corner buzzes when it’s safe to cross the street.   I was crossing with an intellectually challenged co-worker of mine.  She asked if I knew what the buzzer was for.  I explained that it signals blind people when the light is red.  Appalled, she responded, “What on earth are blind people doing driving?”
Sworn to protect us: I work with an individual who plugged her power strip back into itself and for the sake of her life, couldn’t understand why her system would not turn on. She’s a deputy with the Dallas County Sheriff’s office, no less.  

A Ford dealership in Mississippi: When my husband and I arrived at an automobile dealership to pick up our car, we were told the keys had been locked in it. We went to the service department and found a mechanic working feverishly to unlock the driver side door.  As I watched from the passenger side, I instinctively tried the door handle and discovered that it was unlocked.  ”Hey,” I announced to the technician, “It’s open!”  His reply, “I know. I already got that side.”

The last one is a classic: When I left Hawaii and was transferred to Florida , I still had the Hawaiian plates on my car, as my car was shipped from Hawaii . I was parking, and a guy asked me “Wow, you drove from Hawaii to here?” I looked at him and quickly said, “Yep. I took the Hawaii/San Francisco Bridge.” He nodded his head and said “Cool!”

Stay alert, these people walk among us, they vote, and reproduce!

Happy Friday!