In the 1960s, Papa White passed away after spending the day cutting the grass. He consideration and kindness to Grandma was something people talked about because it was so obvious how much he loved her.
She had been out in the yard all day, too, tending the hedges, rose bushes, and the fruit bearers. what I wouldn’t give for some of her recipes for peach cobbler, pear preserves, blackBerry jam, and apple jelly. For a few years she had the garden next to the house sectioned off for structures Papa built that held grapevines.
After they finished the yard work when it was just beginning to get dark, Papa told Grandmother to sit and rest while he fixed supper. (In those days, the main meal was cooked for the middle of the day and leftovers were supper.)
Papa had sat down and begun taking off his shoes when he fell to the floor. It’s my understanding he had died of a massive heart attack before he hit the floor. It was over and a few seconds.
We’d moved to Cherokee Blvd. in Douglasville and lived about half an hour away. When Daddy got the call that we should get to Paulding Memorial NOW, of course, we left immediately.
Uncle Robert was in Florida and was asked to come home hopefully not to scare him enough to drive recklessly, but what do you do in a situation like that? He drove recklessly. Even in the fourth grade, I worried about him getting home safely. I guess God was with him because he did.
We got to the hospital. The only snapshot memories I have are of standing in the hospital hallway and watching my daddy standing there with his head in his hands bawling like a baby with Mother’s hand on his shoulder wiping away her own tears.
I have a very vague memory of being in the hospital chapel. I have no memory of who was there or what was going on. It’s possible that David and I were left in the chapel since, technically, children under 12 weren’t allowed in the hospital and usually had to actually wait outside the doors. (Can you imagine today leaving your child in the parking lot or on the porch of a hospital because they weren’t allowed inside? People did not use babysitters in those days.)
I remember going to his funeral and even what my grandmother was wearing that day. Her heart was broken. We were all heartbroken.
The funeral services were held at the then white wooden Smyrna UMC .
About a year later, I was walking through the living room of the house on Strickland Street where we had moved after Cherokee boulevard. I turned around to see the ghostly figure of Papa sitting in the armchair in the corner. I started screaming and all I remember next was Mother telling me it was okay. My Grandpa Hix had just passed away and Mother said it was just my grief, that to this day, I can see it clearly in my mind the image I’ve had my whole life of him sitting there.
