Anticipation causes the hands of a clock to move more slowly. Anxiety desires things to 'hurry up' to a conclusion. Pleasure whispers for a moment to never end. Friendship has no time restrictions.
"For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven." (Ecclesiastes 3:1)
The matter of time has been on my mind of late. Possibly this 'matter of time' is resting in my mind due to my most recent birthday. I reached sixty (60) years of age on April 14, 2012. Yeah, I know, that was weeks ago. Seventy-seven days ago if you are counting. It takes a while for things to 'sink in' with me. As a matter of fact, some of the things I think I learned in high school are just now 'sinking in' with me.
But back to this '60 thing...' Time belongs to the individual. Our temporal existence is unique. Some moments on our personal timelines are shared with others. And it is these moments with others that we embrace as memories as we grow older. I have enjoyed many such moments in the company of those I love over the past sixty years.
Years before Gillian Welch penned the lyrics to a couple of songs entitled "April the 14th Part I" and "Ruination Day Part II," my father offered me birthday greetings with these words, "Son, on this day, Lincoln met a bullet, the Titanic met an iceberg, and I met you. What a day!" The significance of that greeting can be found in history books and in the lyrics of the two Gillian Welch songs cited above. I realize that this 'significance' is of little interest to anyone except me, but then I am the only one who experienced those moments with my dad. The album on which the songs "April the 14th Part I" and "Ruination Day Part II" appear was released in 2001 and is titled "Time (The Revelator)."
April 14, 1952 marks the beginning of my time...
And the great boat sank, and the Okies fled
And the great emancipator took a bullet in his head
It was not December and it was not May
It was the 14th of April, and his ruination day
Each year on my birthday my dad would go on to jokingly explain his greeting to me by making me aware that April 14 was a date famous for 'disasters' and that my birth fit in perfectly with other historical events that had occurred on this notorious date. My dad thoroughly enjoyed the subject of history and seized every opportunity to share this interest with me when we were together.
Gillian Welch's lyrics reveal three salient stories from the past. President Abraham Lincoln was shot on the evening of April 14, 1865 just weeks into his second term. The "great emancipator" died the next day. The 'unsinkable' Titanic struck an iceberg late night April 14, 1912 on its maiden voyage across the Atlantic. The "great boat" plunged beneath the surface of the waters with 1,517 of the 2,223 passengers and crew losing their lives. April 14, 1935 became known as "Black Sunday" when severe dust storms turned the day to night during the worst day of the Dust Bowl era and many "Okies fled" their homeland to escape the extreme drought conditions. Ironically, John Steinbeck's "The Grapes of Wrath" written about an Oklahoma family's Dust Bowl experience was published on April 14, 1939.
Another 'happening' on April 14 I want to mention...Apollo 13 established the "absolute altitude record" for a manned spacecraft after astronaut John Swigert uttered the words, "Houston, we've had a problem" in notifying NASA mission control of a major malfunction in the space module's electrical system. The problem was reported on April 14, 1970 and the "successful failure," as Commander Jim Lovell called the mission, returned to Earth on April 17. A near disaster eluded.
And a more personal happenstance...on the very same day I was born, April 14, 1952, my great uncle, Clinton Anderson Meacham (my maternal grandfather Charles Meacham's youngest brother), died in the very same hospital in Newport, Arkansas in which I was born. My mother often reminded me of this coincidence as an example of the 'circle of life.' "A time to be born, and a time to die." (Ecclesiastes 3:2)
Being a baseball fanatic and a music lover, I must make note of three of the more 'famous' people born on this same day as I. From the music world of my time there is the "Coalminer's Daughter," Loretta Lynn, and the soulful preacher, Al Green. And from the baseball diamond, one of my all time favorite players, Pete Rose. We can talk about Pete's hall of fame credentials and the indiscretions banning him from hall of fame induction at another time.
Time, yes time... What is time? Quite truthfully I've not paid a lot of attention. Until now... Reaching this milestone age of 60 feels pretty good. I have a loving family comprised of a gorgeous and talented wife, four beautiful daughters, four adorable grandchildren, an angelic sister, two spirited aunts (my mother's two youngest sisters), caring in-laws, a host of cousins, two dogs and a cat. And I have friends...genuine friends. My dad also used to tell me that I would be a "lucky man" if the number of 'real friends' I have could be counted on the fingers of one hand. If he were here today, I know he would call me "Lucky" (among a few other affectionate nicknames he had for me) and he would smile.
I've heard love defined as friendship caught afire. And if "time is the fire in which we burn" as Delmore Schwartz vividly described it in his poem "Calmly We Walk Through This April's Day," then my time is being braised in the slow, simmering heat of friendship's embers.
Every 'milestone' birthday I have experienced has been celebrated among family and friends in different Arkansas communities. I blew out ten candles on my cake surrounded by childhood friends in my hometown of Newport. I marked twenty years old with beer in hand in Jonesboro alongside jubilant college pals. At thirty I was a family man in the company of a one year old daughter in Little Rock. Forty knocked on my door while working as president of a bank for the first time in Arkadelphia. When in transition with a new bank in Russellville, fifty rose up on life's horizon. And then, just a few weeks ago, I arrived at this magical age of sixty years young with a quiet dinner at our home overlooking the White River south of Mountain Home, wife Kathryn by my side.
I'm having the time of my life. Certainly some 'historic' events that took place on April 14 had elements of disaster and "ruination," but I know fun and excitement have dotted that day on the calendar for many people throughout 'time.' As a matter of fact, I recall April 14, 1984 being one of those delightful and memorable days. Sitting at the Newport Country Club with my fab friend Mike Brand and having a drink or three after a day's work, Mike received a phone call informing him that Kay was in labor at Harris Hospital. What is a friend to do, but pick up drinks and head to the hospital to keep friend company. I stayed, we talked into the night, and Michelle arrived in the world on my birthday. Still wondering why her name isn't Jo... Anyway, on March 31 of this year I was able to watch my friend Mike walk his little girl, Michelle, down the aisle on her wedding day. Many emotional elements present that day...anticipation, anxiety, great pleasure, lots of love. Elements at odds with the clock...some wanting to hold back time, others wishing it would rush forward. Friendship...the passage of time is immaterial to its being.
My thoughts of time are centered on relationships with family and friends. Looking forward to a time when plans are in place to be in the company of certain friends, like this coming Tuesday when childhood friend Ruth Johnston becomes a certified member of Club 60. Thinking back in remembrance of old friends...
Recently on the streets of Facebookland I happened upon a photo from the late 1980s picturing a ragamuffin T-ball team that looked as if they had just left the field due to a rainout. The faces of all these 5-6 year old kids on that team brought a smile. A few stood out...Mary Julian Scoggins, Kara Morehart, Emily Miles...all fast friends to this day. And there kneeling next to one of the players was my fellow coach and fine friend on that team...James Morehart, Kara's dad, who lost his life in an auto accident at age 50 a decade ago. I remember James with joy in my heart. I glance at the photo again...and think of my life long friend, Terry Scoggins, Mary Julian's dad, who left this life just three months ago. I remember Terry with a smile. My memories...ingredients in the recipe for everlasting life amongst the living. My time...marked by happiness and sadness. "A time to weep, and a time to laugh. A time to mourn, and a time to dance. " (Ecclesiastes 3:4)
As one now past the point of 'middle age,' I really appreciate the connectivity provided by Facebook. I've been introduced to new friends who share a common bond, such as Jackson County folk who lived there either before or after 'my time' there. Of course, Jackson County is never far from my heart.
I find the history of a place and its people fascinating. When my daughters were very young, I initiated a family research project because I wanted them to be aware of their history. Then work got in the way and the genealogy search was set aside. I have now taken up the reins to the search again in effort to fill the gap between 'my time' and that of my ancestors. Tracing the various family lines for both Kathryn's family and mine is a treasure hunt. Frustrations turn to elation with each acquaintance to the past made. The website Ancestry.com is a cool resource as are other family members who share the same interest. My cousin, Sandra Meacham Floberg, is a seasoned genealogist and another cousin through marriage, Jo Ann Cooper, is the current Regent for the Arkansas Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution. In my search I have discovered direct connection to American Patriots...Farlin Ball on my maternal ancestral line and Shadrack Pinkston on my paternal ancestral line. I also am aware that my ancestors are Arkansas Pioneers having arrived here well before statehood.
We are at that time of year when we Americans are in celebration of our independence. The freedoms we enjoy as a nation are grounded in a Declaration unanimously adopted by the thirteen United States of America on July 4, 1776. Those who fought for our freedoms were friends of the nation and friends with one another. The signers of the Declaration supported it by mutually pledging to each other "our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor." Some lost their lives, some lost their fortunes, none surrendered their honor. May you all have a safe and jubilant Fourth of July as we acknowledge the 236th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. In your celebration, I ask that you give homage to those Patriots who first defended our freedoms.
Since that date in history, many other conflicts have found their way to the battlefield. Our freedoms have been defended time and time again. I ask that you remember all who have valiantly served our nation in the name of Freedom, especially those women and men presently in service to our country. "A time for war, and a time for peace." (Ecclesiastes 3:8)
Gillian Welch's songs "April the 14th Part I" and "Ruination Day Part II" are a history lesson pointing out instances that shared a coincidental date on time's calendar. Intuitively I know ruinous 'things' can occur in the lives of all good people on any date in time, just as salubrious 'things' can come to pass. It just happens that I was born on "Ruination Day." My time...
Ruination day,
And the sky was red,
I went back to work,
And back to bed.
Regardless of the brand a songwriter puts on a date, I find that our daily routines must still be pursued. Even on my birthday, work must be attended and sleep is required. Although I must admit I tested those 'requirements' during my college years.
As Delmore Schwartz so ably called it, "Time is the school in which we learn, Time is the fire in which we burn." It does require a bit of time for 'things' to really 'sink in' with me, but I learn something new and exciting almost every day and my heart burns with love for my family and friends. Love...freindship caught afire indeed.
What is time? It is witness to warmth turning cold. It is witness to youth growing old. Don't mark time. Live in it. Love in it...
I'm Miles from Nowhere........guess I'll take my time...
joe
