“That Was The Week That Was” is a television series that ran in the mid 1960s featuring satirical commentary and song about world events from the week before... The theme song was fluid with its intro lyrics changing each week to reflect current happenings in humorous tone... For example, “ That was the week that was, it’s over, let it go; that was the week that was, it started way above par, finished way below. That was the week that was, it’s over let it slide; that was the week that was, I took him at his word, he took me for a ride...” I’m thinking those lyrics could be used as an introduction to the nightly “news” on any present day major network where the talking heads consistently take their listeners for a ride day in and day out, week in and week out, year in and year out... There is much to be said and appreciated about a good sense of humor... It’s time for me to be “goin’ back” to those days when satire could be accepted for what it was and it not be confused with the truth... You want to go with me???
I think I’m goin’ back
To the things I learned so well in my youth,
I think I’m returning to
The days when I was young enough to know the truth
The much maligned year of 2020 has drawn to a close... Many “things” did not go as planned when the year first revealed itself to us twelve months ago. There is an old adage that states”hindsight is 20/20,” which means one can “see” most clearly looking back at a point in time than when in the midst of a particular happening requiring decisive action. That hindsight often opens the door to second guessing one’s decision well after the outcomes of said decision are known to the decision maker, but especially for some other observers desiring to “make a point” after the fact. Several “I told you so” moments are flashing in my mind as I glance back at life, yet I doubt any of my past actions taken would be altered since I didn’t have the benefit of hindsight when I did what I did... As a general rule, people make the best decisions they can with the information they have at the time they must reach that decision. To second guess yourself or anyone else is pure folly if you accept that axiom. That is not to say that we shouldn’t readily point out sound courses of action to those who may be ill informed. So, in the midst of this COVID-19 pandemic pandemonium, wear a mask!
In the days when “I was young enough to know the truth,” I was strongly opinionated and routinely outspoken. Some may argue that I have not changed even though “the truth” is more difficult to sift from the shady agendas and emotional bias of the main stream media. I retired from the work a day world on August 31, 2019 after 43 years in the business of banking. I never tired of counting other people’s money, I simply desired to discover “new” places and things while I still possessed a semblance of youth. In the first few months of retirement, I realized I wasn’t very good at doing nothing and often found myself underfoot at home as Kathryn continued to pursue her established routines. So, decision was reached to take a road trip... I have long held the thought of driving Route 67... Most everyone of my generation seems to want to get their “kicks” on Route 66 and drive that highway “from Chicago to LA...” After all, we grew up listening to Nat King Cole sing about “Route 66” and we had watched the television show “Route 66,” which aired in the early 1960s with its catchy theme music by the Nelson Riddle Orchestra. My craving to be different rippled into mapping a drive along the entirety of Route 67, that U. S. byway that ran directly through my hometown of Newport.
Now there are no games to only pass the time
No more electric trains, no more trees to climb
But thinking young and growing older is no sin
And I can play the game of life to win
From my perspective, you just have to play to win at the “game of life.” No real skill is needed, just surround yourself with family and friends and participate in the laughter... With a game plan focused on meeting “new” places in the company of smiling faces, we mapped out a trip in mid-December 2019 to the McDonald Observatory in Ft. Davis, Texas to attend a “Star Party” with friends Denise and Jim Clarke, Barbie Graham, and Dale Cody. The Observatory has a fascinating history. It was established as a research unit of the University of Texas system by endowment from an east Texas banker, William Johnson McDonald, with its first large telescope dedicated in 1939. Its west Texas location in the Davis Mountains offers some of the darkest night skies in the continental United States for ultimate star gazing. We stayed in Marfa, approximately 20 miles from Ft. Davis, at the Hotel Paisano, which is where many in the cast and crew of the 1956 movie “Giant” stayed while filming. “Giant” starred Elizabeth Taylor, Rock Hudson, and James Dean and proved to be Dean’s final film due to his untimely death in an auto accident during production. Marfa, Texas just happens to sit on U. S. Highway 67, so Kat and I seized the opportunity to tour the southern section of this major north-south roadway on our way to the “Star Party” at the McDonald Observatory.
We jumped on to Route 67 in Little Rock where it now runs concurrently with I-30 through Benton as you are driving south. From Benton to Texarkana, the Route runs parallel with I-30, so you can experience driving through the once vibrant small towns whose growth has been stunted by the interstate passing them by. We enjoyed several eye opening sights as we traveled through the hearts of familiar towns like Haskell, Malvern, Donaldson, Friendship, Caddo Valley, Arkadelphia, Gum Springs, Curtis, Gurdon, Prescott, Emmet, Hope, Fulton, and straight into the parking area of the U. S. Post Office that straddles the Arkansas-Texas state line in downtown Texarkana. In Arkadelphia, Kat and I captured a snapshot in front of the First United Methodist Church where we were married in 1997. After crossing State Line Avenue and entering Texas, you run through small communities south of I-30 like Redwater, Maud, Simms, Naples, Omaha, and Mt. Pleasant where you cross to the north of I-30 to continue through Mt.Vernon and Weaver. At Weaver, today’s Route 67 joins back up to run concurrently with I-30 into Dallas where the roadway turns more south right through the middle of Oak Cliff where Kathryn spent some of the earliest days of her youth. From Oak Cliff, you drive through Duncanville, Cedar Hill, and Midlothian where you effectively exit the Dallas Metroplex and return to a more rural drive down to Stephenville where we stopped for a late lunch at Hard Eight, a mighty fine bar-b-q joint. Back on the road to Dublin, Brownwood, Bangs, Santa Anna, Ballinger, Rowena, Miles, San Angelo, McCamey, and Ft. Stockton where we stopped for an evening meal and a good night’s rest. The highlight of this part of the trip was a stop at the Miles, Texas Opera House and Heritage Museum and discovering that Bonnie Parker of Bonnie & Clyde fame was from nearby Rowena. The next morning we toured the historic area of Ft. Stockton before continuing on down U.S. 67 to Alpine, Marfa (where we checked into the Hotel Paisano), and Presidio marking the southern terminus of Route 67 before it crosses the Rio Grande into Mexico. Rather than retracing our steps, we chose a beautiful drive from Presidio to Lajitas along the Rio Grande and through the Big Bend Ranch State Park as a return route to Marfa. We grabbed a snack in Laquitas, then headed to Terlingua and into Big Bend National Park and back to the hotel. That evening we dined at LaVenture in the Hotel St. George in Marfa and met a delightful gentleman named Brit Webb. The next morning we bumped into Brit at Jett’s Grill in the Hotel Paisano and, over several cups of coffee, found out he had been a long time educator in the area and was the resident historian of Marfa. Brit provided us a smiling face and helpful hints for our visit and directed us to the Ryan Ranch where much of “Giant” was filmed on location all those years ago as well as the John Cerney created “Giant” themed mural billboards featuring the film’s stars that are situated about five miles west of Marfa near another “Giant” filming location. We just learned that Mr. Britain Rice “Brit” Webb IV departed this life on December 15, 2020 at age 92. Such a fun loving soul!
Our friends met up with us in Marfa that evening and we enjoyed two days of visiting Marfa sites, fine southwest Texas dining, touring historic Ft. Davis, “drifting along with the tumbling tumble weeds,” and “Star Partying” at the McDonald Observatory. We watched the stars at night and stayed where the Stars of yesteryear stayed. I want to acknowledge our mighty fine friend and veteran of several visits to southwest Texas, Susan Elder, for assisting us in our planning for the trip to Marfa. It was a most memorable excursion. Next morning after the “Star Party,” Kat and I returned to Arkansas to ready ourselves for Christmas 2019...
After Christmas and ushering in the new year 2020, we set our sights on completing the grand Highway 67 tour with Sabula, Iowa as our destination at the northern terminus of this historic roadway... From our home, we hopped over to Walnut Ridge to intersect with U.S. 67 and to visit Beatles Park and the Guitar Walk in that fair city before setting out on the road to Sabula. These two sites in Walnut Ridge appropriately sit alongside that portion of Route 67 designated as Arkansas’s Rock ‘n Roll Highway commemorating the many honky-tonks and nightclubs that lined this roadway at the outset of the Rock ‘n Roll music surge in the 1950s. The Rock ‘n Roll Highway 67 was so proclaimed by the Arkansas General Assembly in 2009 with that stretch of the highway in Jackson, Lawrence, Randolph, and Clay counties in the northeast corner of the state and a short belt of the road in Miller County near Texarkana in the southwest corner receiving the designation. Being quite familiar with the honky-tonks up and down this byway, I think it a cool representation of our Rockin’ heritage!
We head north from Walnut Ridge through Pocahontas and Corning to cross into Missouri for a run through Poplar Bluff, Fredericktown (long time home to my cousin and Newport girl Ginny Gray), Farmington, Bonne Terre, Festus, Herculaneum, Arnold, and into St. Louis proper where the roadway becomes Lindbergh Boulevard (and where historic U.S. Highways 61, 66, and 67 all converge as one for a stretch) traversing the ‘burbs of Kirkwood, Frontenac, Creve Coeur, Maryland Heights, and Florissant before exiting the city. You cross the Mississippi River into Alton, Illinois just north of St. Louis. From Alton, we travel rural western Illinois through picturesque towns like Godfrey, Jerseyville, Carrollton, Beardstown (where Abraham Lincoln was first recognized as an outstanding lawyer in a famous trial at the Beardstown Courthouse) and Macomb, home of Western Illinois University, where we stopped for the night. Next day we visited Wyatt Earp’s birthplace and home in Monmouth, Illinois before crossing the Mississippi River again in the Quad Cities area between Rock Island, Illinois, where we enjoyed a brief respite at the Black Hawk State Historic Site, and Davenport. Iowa, which is an eye catching river town. Route 67 winds beside the Great Mississippi through the towns of Bettendorf, Le Claire (Buffalo Bill Cody’s birthplace), Princeton, and Clinton, before it abruptly ends in Sabula, an interesting little island community in the Mississippi River. Just west of Sabula about seven miles is the little town of Miles, Iowa, so we just had to take a short side trip to say we had been there. Literally, it is Miles from Nowhere!!! The road east out of Sabula continues on as U. S. Highway 52 to Dixon, Illinois (boyhood home of President Ronald Reagan), and from there to Chicago on I-88. We wrapped up our trip by driving the 160 miles from Sabula due east to our condo in “Sweet Home Chicago” for a three week stay before returning to Arkansas the first week of February 2020.
After returning to Arkansas, I completed the 1,560 mile tour of historic Route 67 in late February by closing the gap from Little Rock to Walnut Ridge on a drive through North Little Rock, Sherwood, Jacksonville, Cabot, Austin, Ward, Beebe, McRae, Searcy, Judsonia, Bald Knob, Russell, Bradford, Possum Grape, Newport, Diaz, Campbell Station, Tuckerman, Swifton, Alicia, Minturn, and Hoxie. The stretch from Cabot to Walnut Ridge is now branded as Highway 367. Driving through Searcy, I passed directly in front of the First United Methodist Church where my parents were married in 1950. As a young fellow in high school some fifty years ago, I had read that U.S. Highway 67 was the most traveled two lane road in America and I had wanted to travel it ever since. Mission accomplished! Little did I know I would be able to visit two towns named Miles on the tour.
On the quest, I truly recognized how strong the ties that bind one’s thoughts to the heart. When driving this single stretch of roadway, I grasped its importance in my life when it dawned on me that on this road I was born (in Newport), I was married (twice actually, in Arkadelphia and in Little Rock the first time), my children were born (in Little Rock and in Newport), my wife was born (in Dallas Oak Cliff), my parents were married (in Searcy)... I reckon “life is a highway...”
I can recall the time when I wasn’t ashamed to reach to a friend
Now I think I’ve got a lot more than just my toys to lend
Now there’s more to do than watch my sailboat glide
And every day can be a magic carpet ride
For me, the grand tour of Route 67 was a real “magic carpet ride,” but it wasn’t without its heavy dose of reality. During our time in Chicago at the end of the second leg of our journey, our precious pup, Jackson, bounded over life’s Rainbow Bridge on February 1, 2020. He had fallen gravely ill from canine idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis, often called Westie lung disease. Our little Jackson received excellent care at Chicago’s MedVet Hospital before succumbing to his illness. Jackson was a “foundling” when he adopted us when he was about a year old. So he was 15 plus years young in age when he departed life’s playground. He will forever reside in our hearts and his spirit will always be by our side...
I returned to Chicago alone on March 8, 2020 to take in a few Blackhawks and Bulls games, to experience the city’s St. Patrick’s Day parades and the greening of the Chicago River, and ready myself for the coming baseball season... All was well until Friday the 13th when the Mayor of Chicago and the Governor of Illinois “postponed” the St. Patrick’s Day celebrations due to concerns about the spreading coronavirus (COVID-19) and subsequently shuttered the bars and limited food service to take-out only. On Monday, March 16, the world as I knew it stood still. With plans disrupted, I returned to Arkansas on St. Patrick’s Day and have not visited our “Sweet Home Chicago” since... The COVID-19 pandemic has cast an uncertainty upon the world at large over the past nine months and created havoc with my perception of retirement, but it has allowed an opportunity to properly assess life over the past 68 plus years... I recall hearing someone mutter, “Hindsight is 20/20...”
And I can play hide and seek with my fears
And live my life instead of counting my years
In the early stages of the COVD-19 pandemic and the associated cancellation of many major events, Kathryn dubbed 2020 as “the year that never was”... In retrospect, she was “spot on,” as usual. In commentary and in song, a review of the year 2020 might resemble an episode of the that 1960s satirical television show, “That Was The Week That Was.” In my final analysis, an accurate portrayal of 2020 would be called “That Was The Year That Wasn’t.” Surely, so many of the “things” we witnessed in the past year didn’t really happen, did they!? Or at least, they couldn’t have happened the way they were portrayed by the major media outlets; nothing is that preposterous... Or, is it??? Possibly it is my warped sense of humor that created the collision of tragedy and comedy in my mind... Maybe my temperament is maladjusted... I am both dazed and confused by some happenings over 2020’s course of play... How does a presidential impeachment play out when parties affiliated with the accusing side appear equally guilty of similar infractions? (Wait, I reckon we’ve seen that one before in my lifetime)... How can justified peaceful protests over a multitude of social injustices devolve into uncontrolled, violent riots in the streets of cities across America in the midst of a global pandemic threatening the lives of all? What has happened to civility? Who stole my can of common sense? When did the art of debate evolve into a pursuit to avoid the question posed for debate? Whose turn is it to buy the next round of drinks because I desperately need one?!? Where are my car keys? “Where have all the flowers gone?”
Well, the answer to that last question is circuitous in its nature leading to more questions and more questions until the flowers end up in graveyards... I’m thinking the answers to all of my questions are dead ended with the possible exception of that one inquiring about the next round of drinks. If there are no volunteers needing a drink, I’ll get my own...
My vision of flowers in graveyards has been all too clear in 2020. It seems my only ventures away from home over the past nine months have been solemn treks to graveside services in remembrance of friends or family members of friends. Too many to recount, quite honestly... And many have died during the season of pandemic with their memorial services suspended or delayed. Simply know that each one’s signature is written on my heart and none will be forgotten.
I’m prayerfully hopeful that the recently released vaccines to combat the further spreading of COVID-19 are efficient and effective in their intent. I am tired of the separation required to keep the coronavirus at bay, but I respect the necessity of it. That respect does not suppress my yearning to be embraced by family members and life long friends and to share a bit of laughter in the moment. Both Kathryn and I witnessed the cancellation of our 50 year high school class reunions in the Fall of 2020. One of my classmates, Eva Wells, will not be able to wait until “things” are considered safe for large crowds to gather together again since she departed this life last month. My sadness is no where near the equivalent of the heartbreak being experienced by people around the globe who are being required to wait in the wings while loved ones lie in hospital beds and nursing home rooms alone to face the consequences of this unforgiving pandemic. I also must remind myself that our generation is not the first to experience such hardship. We only have to look back a little way to the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1919.
Let everyone debate the true reality
I’d rather see the world the way it used to be
A little bit of courage is all we lack
So catch me if you can, I’m goin’ back
Most are aware that I’m a baseball fanatic. When the year 1919 is remembered from my readings of that tumultuous time period, I tend to block out all but two events... It was the year my dad was born and it was the year that my favorite baseball team, the Cincinnati Reds, won its first World Series championship under the cloud of the Black Sox scandal... While I enjoyed watching ball games on television this past Summer, it was simply not the same as being in a major league or minor league park with the crack of the bat and roar of the crowd as my soundtrack. As matter of fact, there were no fans in the stands at major league games in 2020 and no minor league ball games played at all. And the Major League All-Star game was cancelled for only the second time since its inception in Chicago during the 1933 World’s Fair; the first cancellation coming in 1945 due to World War II travel restrictions. Baseball witnessed the passing of several of the game’s former star players in 2020 including seven Hall of Famers. The Hall of Fame members who quietly strolled from life’s playing field in 2020 are Al Kaline, Whitey Ford, Tom Seaver, Joe Morgan, Bob Gibson, Lou Brock, and Phil Niekro. And one other ball player with Hall of Fame credentials can be counted in this group of stars; Charley Pride played professional baseball, yet it is his musical talent that is showcased in his induction into the Country Music Hall of Fame. I was most fortunate to see all except Whitey Ford play the game in person. I even got to see Charley Pride “play” his music back in the early ‘70s on a Memphis stage. We are 90 days away from Opening Day in the major leagues. I’m ready to go back...
A little bit of courage is all we lack
So catch me if you can, I’m goin’ back
Just a few weeks ago, my friend David Black posted on Facebook a photo of “old” Memorial Field in Newport, Arkansas, where I and my childhood friends first played baseball. That photo stirred up a lot of memories of former players and fans who had witnessed games there. With other circumstances causing the absence of his regular cast of informed sports geeks, David invited me to have a baseball conversation with him on “Sports Unleashed,” his weekly on-line television sports talk show on Newport’s Cable 15 TV. It was a two part “Zoom” conversation. “Zoom” has become our go to form of gathering in this pandemic environment; even our church services are held via “Zoom.” “Goin’ back” on “Zoom” TV, David and I talked about Newport’s rich baseball history from its Class D minor league “hey days” in the 1930s and 1940s with ball players like George Kell, Johnny Sain, Pete Reiser, and Chuck Connors through the very talented American Legion teams of the 1950s, ‘60s, ‘70s, and ‘80s. In addition to baseball, we had a lot of fun reminiscing about the Newport football Greyhounds winning ways and championship seasons and the lone Newport Greyhounds State Champion basketball team of 1965. That team was inducted into the Newport High School Hall of Fame in 2016.
The ‘65 championship basketball team was a collection of unassuming talent and unselfish play. Led by four senior starters and a sharp shooting junior guard, those Hounds went 27-3 and ran past Mountain Home, Mabelvale, Green County Tech, and Harrison in the state tournament to bring home the trophy. The championship game drew 6,145 fans to Barton Coliseum in Little Rock, which was the largest crowd to ever witness a basketball game in the state of Arkansas at any level up until that time. Fascinating! Star senior forward Billy Osier, head coach Bernis Duke, and assistant coach Butch Duncan all took their final shot on life’s court in 2020. Senior forward Paul Massey and junior guard Mike Allen left life’s gym in years past leaving only senior big man Bill Holt and senior floor leader Donald Ray Smotherman of the starting five to hear the continual cheers from that championship season. As a seventh grader, I was lucky enough to witness every game in both the district and state tournaments in that memorable season 55 years ago. Looking back in life’s rear view mirror, that year appears closer than it is... I’m thinking hindsight has more to offer than second guesses...
After that season, my neighbor, Coach Bernis Duke, was recruited to join the coaching staff at the newly chartered Oral Roberts University in Tulsa as the school’s first tennis coach. He was accompanied there by Paul Massey who played both basketball and tennis at ORU. Massey scored the first points in the history of the Oral Roberts basketball program in its initial season. Coach Duke coached tennis at ORU for 33 years and was inducted into the National Intercollegiate Tennis Hall of Fame. Coach Butch Duncan continued to coach at Newport another five years assisting the football Hounds to an undefeated 1968 season and a 10-1 state championship season in 1969 and leading the basketball Hounds to the semi-finals of the state tournament in my senior year of 1970 before departing Newport to further his coaching career at Texarkana, Magnet Cove, Paragould and Stuttgart. After coaching, he had an illustrious career with Farm Bureau Insurance in Stuttgart and Batesville. Plus, Coach Duncan is a charter member of my own personal Friendship Hall of Fame. No finer friend have I ever had! Billy Osier followed in the footsteps of both these fine coaches by playing basketball at Arkansas College and enjoying a successful coaching career at Tuckerman, Portland, and Newport. Donald Ray Smotherman and Mike Allen both had successful business careers in insurance and construction, respectively. Bill Holt enjoyed a notable career in the ministry. These former Greyhounds not only won on the basketball court, but they all are winners in the “game of life.”
I am confident that we all feel that COVID-19 has kept us on the sidelines long enough, but patience and “a little bit of courage” shown for the well being of others are needed to assure the safety of our teammates in this “game of life.” Being on the field with your friends and teammates at your side brings fun to the game. Until we can safely resume play, be kind to others, wear a mask, muster up “a little bit of courage,” and we’ll all be “goin’ back” in the game in no time... Sending virtual hugs from my spot on the field, miles from nowhere...
“Guess I’ll take my time.........”
