Category: People

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The Blessings of a Godly Mother

I’ve heard the story of my birth for as long as I can remember…not that it was all that remarkable or out of the ordinary…it was just that my Mother liked telling the story and I loved hearing it. I was expected to make my appearance toward the end of April, 1967. On the afternoon of Friday March 31st, Mother drove to town for a checkup at the doctor’s office, a hair appointment at the beauty shop, and a few other errands. However, when Dr. Magie examined her, he said she needed to head on over to the hospital immediately because she was about to have her baby. Mother laughed, thinking he was joking. After all, I wasn’t expected for 3 more weeks – she had felt no labor pains – he was scheduled to go out of town for a short hunting trip (planned so he could be back for my birth), and she was headed to the beauty shop! She truly believed he was kidding with her. In fact, she told him she had a hair appointment and asked if it would be all right if she got her hair fixed and then head to the hospital. He assured her she needed to go straight there – so she called Daddy and Mam-ma to come join her, then settled in nervously and excitedly to wait. Dr. Magie was right – I was born just after 4:00 am the next morning, an April Fool’s baby who fooled her family by arriving a few weeks early.

As a little girl, I always smiled a big smile when Mother told me this story. I loved thinking I had played a clever trick on my family with my surprise arrival.

The hospital where I was born closed shortly after my birth when a new hospital was built across town. The beautiful old building sat up on a hill empty and abandoned for years. One day when I was around 8 years old, Mother drove me up that hill and around to the back of the deserted building. She said she wanted to show me something. We got out of the car and had walked only a few steps when Mother pointed up to the unique round balcony on the 3rd floor. “I walked out on that balcony the night before you were born and stood for the longest time praying over your life”, Mother said. “I just wanted you to know that – that I prayed earnestly for you before you were even here.”

Photo credit: Betty Patterson (Thank you, Betty.)

Even as a child, I was humbled by what she said – it seemed like such an important thing to me that day….and it still does. Every time I remember her words, I feel so honored, so blessed by her gift.

I just did the math – I have been on this earth a total of 20,290 days since my April 1 birth all those years ago – and I feel absolutely and 100% completely confident that my Mother has prayed for me on every single one of those days. What an amazing blessing!!!

So, my precious mother prayed for me before I was born and every day since then. I have never lived one single day on this earth without being covered by her prayers. Not one single day. What a difference, what an impact this has had on my life.

It made me thoughtful recently, thinking how I would miss those prayers someday when she is no longer with me…..

…but several weeks ago, Mother was talking to me and thanking me for helping her with some things. “I pray about your future”, she said, “and I’ve prayed that when you get older and perhaps need help, that there will be someone there to help you like you’ve helped me.”

She has prayed for my future! Those thousands of prayers have included specific, thoughtful petitions regarding challenges we all face in this life.

I firmly believe our wonderful, loving Heavenly Father hears our prayers – and I am so grateful that He does. I also couldn’t be more humbled or thankful for the prayers of a Godly mother, devotedly approaching the King of Kings on my behalf.

Thank you, Mother. I love you so very much. I am forever grateful.

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Glimpses of Excellence – A Beautiful Bloom

Hospitals are unique places – in both positive and negative ways.  I’ve spent a lot of time in hospitals the past couple of years due to an ongoing family medical situation and those experiences have given me so many Glimpses of Excellence to share…. Here’s one of them..

One afternoon recently, I stepped into a hospital elevator and smiled at the young woman inside.  She seemed quiet, pleasant, and….tired.  I saw on her badge that she worked for the hospital food service, pushing a loaded warmer cart to deliver meals to hundreds of patients – then returning afterwards to their rooms to pick up all the empty trays and dishes.  I thought about how tired she must be at the end of her work day and wondered how many steps registered routinely on her FitBit.

“You have a hard job”, I commented.   “Oh no, I have an easy job.” she said quickly, smiling sweetly….then her smile slowly faded and she became visibly thoughtful.  “Well, actually sometimes it’s really hard going into some of those rooms”, she said quietly.  

I pondered her words for the rest of the day….realizing how very hard that could be…..  Her quiet comment made me thoughtful. I’m often a tiny bit nervous walking into a room where strangers are present.  I might even pause, collect myself, and take a breath before opening the door. This young lady not only has to brace herself to walk into a room full of strangers over and over every day….   She faces much greater difficulties – because she is walking into rooms where people are very sick,  perhaps dying, some all alone with no family or friends…. It would be a difficult thing to face….but she does it over and over every single day.

It also made me think about Irene.  Irene and her sister Miss. B clean rooms on the hospital wing where my mother was a patient for many weeks this year.  Irene is a rare gem, a bright glimpse of excellence, who faithfully does her job day after day, facing the same challenges as the young lady I met in the elevator. She is a tiny little thing with a bright smile and a big voice. She does her job well, cleaning with diligence and dedication – noticing details and always doing her best. She doesn’t just mop the floor – she scrubs it clean. That hospital room always felt so much better when she was finished – cleaner, brighter, and even more hopeful and cheerful.

That, in itself, is a wonderful example of excellence – but Irene always does so much more. First of all, she diligently makes it a point to learn the patient’s names, as well as family members who stay with them.  That’s no small task!  She learned not only my Mother’s name, but mine, our friends, and our family members who visited as well! Irene greeted us with sincere warmth each time she saw us. Every single day when she entered Mother’s hospital room, she would enthusiastically exclaim,  “Hello, Mrs. Jean!  How are you today?” with her beautiful accent and a broad smile on her face.  She would greet me as well (by name!) and would remember details of past conversations, following up on discussions, sharing her own life, and showing  genuine interest in and concern for both of us. We looked forward to her visits every day.

 There is an old saying I love that says to “bloom where you are planted”. Irene is definitely blooming – and like all beautiful flowers she is brightening the lives of many, providing beauty, encouragement, strength, and joy.

We should all try to do the same.

Thank you, Irene.  I am very grateful for the care you showed and the encouragement you provided.  I will never forget you.

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The Seeds We Sow

Anybody out there like fresh peaches? I know I sure do…..but I will never look at them the same way after today…..because I read an article by Cindy Lubbering, a home-town friend I have known for many years. She has written a beautiful, meaningful, and thought-provoking piece paying tribute to her parents….. but also providing a wonderful challenge for each of us…I contacted Cindy this afternoon and asked her if I could post her story, wanting to share with others, and she has graciously agreed. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did. If so, please comment and let her know – or send me a message and I will pass it along.

The Peach Tree

Fresh Peaches

The Seeds We Sow

By Guest Writer Cindy Lubbering

When you first glance at these pictures you might think, ”What’s the big deal? Nothing special about a few peaches and a peach tree.” But to me, the tree and peaches have a far deeper and more profound meaning.

This peach tree grows just over the fence next to my parent’s home. It has grown in the spot where we tossed food scraps for years. Obviously, a peach seed was among those scraps at one time and happened to take root.

Frankly, I didn’t even realize the tree was fruit bearing until Gregg called it to my attention lately. He brought in the sweetest peaches I have ever tasted. Gregg told me that he picked them from my parent’s peach tree.

The tree that they never realized they planted.

Now this peach tree has been slowly growing through the years and finally bore fruit.

The tree got me to thinking about other kinds of seeds my parents unknowingly planted throughout the years.

They planted seeds about Jesus in the many, many three year olds that attended their Sunday school class for the more than forty years that they taught.

They planted seeds in the community, living and working among friends and neighbors who sometimes needed a helping hand.

They planted seeds within our own family by living Christian lives and being examples of always doing what is good and honorable for my sister and I and their grandchildren.

My parents are both gone, but the seeds they planted are still producing fruit just as the peach tree is that grows near their backyard.

Let us all be mindful that the seeds we plant today will one day bear fruit, good or bad.

Galatians 6:7

Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that he will also reap.

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Happy 90th Birthday, Mel Tillis

Mel Tillis stories are far better told in person and not in written form – because Mel, despite his lifelong stutter, had an absolutely incredible understanding of the art of communication and he used it beautifully. His vocal inflections, his timing, his choice of words, his facial expressions and his body language made his stories simply priceless. Since I can’t tell you this story in person (Believe it or not, I can do a fairly good impression 🙂 ), I hope those of you who are familiar with Mel will be able “hear” him as you read.

Mel was one of the first Nashville celebrities to build his own theater in Branson. He was also one of the first to copy the practice established by local Branson shows of meeting and greeting the audience in an autograph line after each performance.

Always a gracious host, he cared about his fans and would pose for pictures, shake hands, and visit briefly with anyone who took the time to stand in the (always) long lines to meet him.

One night in August, 20 years ago, I went to see Mel’s show at his Branson theater, sitting in my favorite row (L) about halfway back in the crowd. After the show, I waved to Mel as I was leaving, not wanting to disturb the autograph line, but wanting to wish him a late greeting for his birthday that had passed just a few days before. (It was a big one!). He smiled and waved me over for a hug. As I got closer he grinned mischievously and said, “Heyyyyy, Lisa! Did you know I’m goin’ on 80 years old?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw several people in the autograph line turn and stare in surprise at this news.

I rolled my eyes and said, “Mel, you’re 70!” I heard a few chuckles. He looked at me with a sincere face but a small hint of a grin and said, “I know that, Lisa….dat’s a-goin’ on 80!” Everyone started laughing. Even in the autograph line, he was working the crowd, delivering humor and bringing joy.

It takes enormous talent and determination to be a successful country music singer or song writer. Mel achieved both…….but even more impressively, he was a gifted, talented, intelligent, creative, and intuitive entertainer.

Today, on what would have been his 90th birthday, I’m thinking about so many stories and smiles. I am blessed to have known him.

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My Friends in Winterset

Winterset, Iowa is quite a special little place. I am blessed to have several friends there – so I was so saddened when the news last night reported that a devastating tornado hit the little town yesterday afternoon. Actually I guess “friends” is a vague term – none of these friends I mentioned would actually even know my name or remember me at all….

Perhaps I’d better back up and start again….

Winterset is a small town of just over 5,000 people, located south of Iowa’s capital city of Des Moines in rural Madison County. There are a lot of great things to see and do there, and I’ve visited Winterset on several occasions…..but I will tell more about that another time.

Today, I am thinking about my friends…

I met my friend Bob on my very first trip to Winterset several years ago. I stopped by the Chamber of Commerce to see if there were any brochures, maps, or information they might share about touring the area sites. The young lady behind the desk enthusiastically told me that the best way to be introduced to Winterset was through one of their city tours if we had the time (typically about 2 – 3 hours). I immediately asked if we could schedule a tour for that afternoon. She smiled, thought for a minute, and said she would check with Bob, one of their tour guides, to see if he was available. Fortunately he was, and that afternoon I had a personal tour of the area with Bob – learning so much about Winterset – it’s history, points of interest, the people, businesses, and the culture. Early in the tour, we drove past a nice brick home on the right that sat back off the highway a bit. Bob not only pointed out that it was the home where he and his wife lived, but also told us about the home in detail – very proud of the life they had created there together. He was charming, enthusiastic, informative, and fun. When I heard the tornado yesterday had gone south and east of town, I breathed a sigh of relief. Bob’s home is located north and west of the city center.

Another friend in Winterset is a sweet lady who works at the John Wayne Birthplace Museum. I have visited the museum on two or three occasions through the years, and she is always behind the counter selling tickets and souvenirs. She is originally from the Springfield, Missouri area where I lived for over ten years – and we always visit about places and people we have in common when I’m there. I don’t remember her name, but I do remember her smile and her kindness.

On the city square, there was a very nice little boutique that I visited a couple of years ago. The owner was very kind and we chatted comfortably while I shopped – talking about Winterset, Branson, MO, her future plans to open an AirBnB upstairs above her shop…..it was such a pleasant afternoon. I took her business card (which I unfortunately have since misplaced) and told her I would call to see if her AirBnB was available on my next trip to Winterset.

My last friend is definitely the most unique and perhaps the most special – because we have never met at all…. Let me explain. My Mother and I were traveling home from a trip to Minnesota on I-35 one day and veered off to have lunch at the Northside Cafe on the Winterset city square. After lunch, Mother sat down on a bench outside for a few minutes….and unknowingly left her cell phone lying there when she walked away. We were an hour or more down the road before we discovered it was gone – and had no idea where it could be. Mentally retracing our steps as we drove along, we thought perhaps it could have been left at our table in the Northside cafe or on that city sidewalk bench. Calling the Northside first, no phone was located. Remembering the Chamber of Commerce office was down the block a ways from where Mother had sat, I searched for the number and gave them a call. The lady who answered was very kind – listening while I explained our predicament, then telling me to hold on while she went down the street to search. After several minutes, she was back with Mother’s phone in her hand. She took down our address and promised to put the phone in the mail to us the next day. I told her that I would send her a check for her trouble, but she refused saying she was glad to be of help. She gave me her personal cell phone number in case I needed to contact her. The next day, I received a text from her letting me know the phone had been shipped.

Each of these friends made an impression on me. Their kindness, their enthusiasm, their personalities are memorable to me…I said a prayer for each of them and their families yesterday evening and again this morning…..because they touched my life. They are my friends. I have no idea of their political affiliations, their religious beliefs, or their backgrounds. I just know that they are my friends, their community is hurting, and therefore I hurt with them.

One of my colleagues posted a question on Facebook a few days ago – “When are we going to realize that we all belong to the same human race?” It’s a powerful and profound question, Beth – and I hope we figure that out soon.

Matthew 22:37-39 Jesus replied: “ ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’

John 13:35 By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

I Corinthians 16:14 Do everything in love.

I John 14:19 We love because He first loved us.

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Glimpses of Excellence – A Green Checkmark

the green checkmark

Excellence can come in so many different forms….I heard a sermon once from one of my favorite pastors that talked about the excellence involved in returning your shopping cart to the cart corral when you are finished with it. I liked that – because it’s such a simple thing to do that truly does show care and respect for others. As we’ve all heard so often, sometimes it’s the little things…

Last month, my mother and I arrived at the University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences (UAMS) for a busy day of appointments. Medical days can be tiring, stressful, and a bit overwhelming. When we finished our third appointment of the day, the doctor left and his nurse, Ryan, came in to walk us through the information (new medications, upcoming appointments, general facts, best practices, etc.) – all the things we would need to know in the days and weeks ahead. He discussed all of the points thoroughly, assuring us that he was also providing a printed copy of all the information we needed to take home, review, and reference. He thoughtfully provided not one but two neatly stapled identical packets – one for Mother and one for me – and we tucked them into our bags and hurried off to our next appointment.

While there, I received a call from Nurse Ryan, who said after consulting with others on the medical team, there had been some updates to the information packet after we left. He said he had reprinted two new copies and would be leaving them at the patient desk for us to pick up at our convenience. “I put a green checkmark on the first page of each of the new packets”, he said. “That way, when you get home you will know which to keep and which to throw away.”

A green checkmark… it seems like such a small thing, but I have thought a lot about this simple act, this choice he made to go above and beyond, several times since that day. When I emptied out my bag after returning home, there were many papers and leaflets collected throughout our visit – information I wanted to read and study, leaflets I was interested in scanning, and the packets of neatly stapled printed information we needed to keep. Tossing the original packets in the trash, I began reading through the updated packet – the one with the neat, circled green checkmark on the top. That small detail – that quick action – communicated caring, diligence, and even comfort.

Sometimes it IS the little things that matter the most.

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Glimpses of Excellence – at my local Chick-Fil-A

Many years ago, I decided that someday I would write a book and title it “Glimpses of Excellence”…..but I’ll tell you more about that in another blog on another day. I’m getting a little ahead of myself…

Even though I’m off work right now for Christmas break, I’ve stayed quite busy. Despite all the demands of the day, I have been allowing myself the wonderful luxury of sleeping in late….until this morning…

I set my alarm to wake up early today, because I had an early morning appointment about 50 miles from home. I’ll be honest, mornings are definitely not my best time – I’m much more of a night owl – so anytime I have to get up and about early it’s a bit of a challenge for me. (Okay, probably a big challenge!) Still, I made it out the door just a few minutes past the goal I had set for leaving, got settled in the car, and ordered breakfast on my Chick-Fil-A app. (I absolutely love their breakfast bowls!) Thinking it might save time, I chose inside pickup rather than drive-through, clicked the final “submit” on the order, and headed off to meet the day.

There were beautiful clouds in the skies this morning – not fluffy white pillows in a bright blue sky, but slowly rolling dark shadows crowded together against a muted, blue-gray canvas.

cloudy skies

When I arrived at Chick-Fil-A and parked, rain had just started sprinkling down. The parking lot was full, and the restaurant was busy. My mind was also busy – thinking about my goals for the day, planning my schedule, and mentally listing tasks needing completion. As I hopped out of the car to rush in and get my order, the skies opened up and the rain started pelting down. Dashing inside the restaurant, I was greeted warmly by an employee who was standing near the front door. “Do you have an umbrella?” the young man asked. “No, I didn’t bring one with me – didn’t know it was going to rain today!” I replied over my shoulder as I walked over to pick up my waiting order. While I did, he calmly walked into the entryway, unlocked a small closet, and took out an oversized umbrella. As I hurried back toward the front door, he said “I’ll walk you to your car.” Stepping out in the rain, he held the umbrella more over me and my breakfast order than over himself. Smiling as I jumped into the car, I called out a quick but sincere thank-you as he turned and headed back to the restaurant.

You know what? That small act of unexpected kindness made my day! My busy morning was brightened considerably because this young man went the extra mile to show concern for me….because he put out extra unrequested effort to make my day better. What a wonderful glimpse of excellence!

That act of kindness has stayed in my thoughts all day because it was significant to me. It was over and beyond what I would have expected, it was very impressive, and it made a difference. It touched my heart! I wonder what simple opportunities I miss to help others, to show kindness, to make a positive impact? In what ways can I show excellence? I’m going to try to work on that!

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Teaching by Example

autumn leaf

I saw a 1000 different pictures on my drive to work today…. Okay, to be realistic, maybe it wasn’t actually 1000….but it really was close! I like to leave early in the morning so that I can stop and take pictures on my drive, but I was running behind and didn’t allow as much time today…..and of course – the morning was just spectacular. The grasses are still green in the Ozarks and there was a foggy mist rising up from the ground. It was just beautiful. Often when the mists are rising, the skies are a foggy gray, but that wasn’t the case this morning. They were brilliantly blue overhead with just a hint of peach and pink on the horizon. The clouds were fluffy and white, and edged in gold as the sun came up behind them. There were hints of autumn color showing here and there. I wanted so badly to stop, set up, and take some shots….but there was no time, so I just drove along happily enjoying the beautiful views.

I was taught from an early age to watch for beauty – to notice it and celebrate it. My mother always enthusiastically does just that – noticing every detail and appreciating the beautiful blessings of God’s nature. She has set a wonderful example.

A few weeks ago, I wanted to get a picture of autumn leaves beginning to turn so I went out for a drive and invited her along. The colors really weren’t easy to find, and I was about to give up for the evening. Mother, always trying to help, mentioned that she had noticed a pretty little tree with some nice color in a parking lot near the pharmacy. She had ridden there earlier in the day to pick up a prescription – and noticed the tree as she passed by. I drove across town, and there it was. She was right – and I happily took a few shots. Success! I was so impressed that she noticed it – just a little tree in the middle of a concrete parking lot she had ridden by during a busy day. I’m thankful that she has taught me by example to watch for the beauty and blessings, but I am even more grateful that she has taught me to share it.

About a week ago, she and I were walking together down the sidewalk in my neighborhood. The leaves were showing some color and there were a few pretty red ones on the ground. Mother was delighted – and each time we passed one that was lying face down, she carefully stooped down, picked it up, and turned it over. “There”, she would say, “now everyone walking by can see how pretty it is and hopefully enjoy it too.”

It may seem like a small thing – just turning over a leaf – but it’s really not. Mother’s back bothers her some – so her actions were not without challenge or pain – but it was worth it to her….even though she will probably never know who appreciated or enjoyed her efforts.

I’m so thankful for her examples and what she teaches me. Finding beauty and sharing it with others makes my days better. It brings me joy – and I hope brings joy to others as well.

Thank you, Mother.

autumn leaf
Autumn leaf – ready for someone to see and enjoy

Want to see more pictures?
Please visit my website at www.lisacarlonphotography.com

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Thank you, Mrs. Swofford

We often do not realize the long-lasting impact we have on others….

Each of us affect those around us – either positively or negatively – every day, many times without even realizing it.

When I was 9 years old, I was a 4th grader at Berryville (Arkansas) elementary school. My teacher that year was Mrs. Mary Ellen Swofford. The year before, when I was a 3rd grader, I had feared Mrs. Swofford, hoping and praying many times that I wouldn’t have her for a teacher. A trim, petite lady, she always wore neatly fitted dresses and matching heels that clicked briskly when she walked down the hall. You always knew when it was Mrs. Swofford coming – even before you saw her – by those clicking heels. She was a no-nonsense teacher, and had high expectations for students’ behavior, attitude, and efforts.

Entering 4th grade, my fears were realized when I saw that in fact I did have Mrs. Swofford as my teacher. Those fears quickly faded away as I got to know her however, and she remains to this day one of my absolute favorite teachers.

In late September, this lovely “changing of seasons” time of year we are in right now, Mrs. Swofford started our day by printing the word autumn on the chalkboard. She wrote slowly and carefully, building our anticipation as we students saw the care and simple artistry she put into every letter. She chose to use the old fashioned style on the letter “a”, a style still utilized in type print today but rarely seen anymore in written form. We had no idea why she was writing the word, but she definitely had our attention. The room was quiet as we waited in anticipation. When she finished, she turned to us and said, “Isn’t this a pretty word? I’ve always thought it was such a pretty word to see in print – and I think that fits so well because autumn is such a pretty time of year. Some people call it “fall”, but I’ve always preferred to use autumn because of the way the word looks when you write it and sounds when you say it. It’s just so much better, don’t you think?”

autumn

That was it. That’s all she said. We moved on – getting out our paper and pencils and beginning our school work for the day. Mrs Swofford left that carefully written word on the board for the remainder of the week, and I would look up at it throughout the day and my 9-year-old mind would think, “Wow – that really is a pretty word!”

It was a simple act – but it taught me several valuable lessons.

Our choices of words matter. Language (both spoken and written) is an art form.

Printing and handwriting can be artistically beautiful.

Celebrating beauty every day brings joy – whether it’s the changing of the seasons, the smile of a friend, or simply a beautiful word written on the chalkboard.

This year marks my 46th autumn since that day in Mrs. Swofford’s classroom – and every single year I still remember that simple word written on the chalkboard and the lesson she taught us.

Thank you, Mrs. Swofford.

Author’s Note: I knew Mrs. Swofford had passed away last year, so at the last minute I decided to look up as I was publishing this post. Ironically, she died one year ago today – September 28, 2020.

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Happy Birthday, Mel Tillis

“Good morning, this is Judy Tillis from Branson. Would you happen to know where I could get in touch with Lisa Carlon?”

Mother replied, “Why yes I do – she’s my daughter, and she’s actually here right now.”

At the time of that phone call, I was a student at College of the Ozarks in Point Lookout, Missouri – just outside of Branson. I took the phone from Mother and listened as Judy asked me if I would be willing to move out of my college dorm and live with she and her husband to help them take care of their precious little girl, Hannah. Four days later, I moved into their home. Hannah was four at the time – a sweet, beautiful, intelligent child who was and still is absolutely a delight. It was one of the best jobs I have ever had.

Today, I am thinking of so many wonderful memories from those years – because today is the 88th anniversary of Hannah’s daddy, Mel Tillis’, birth. I smiled this morning as I sat remembering…and I decided to share some of the stories with all of you in hopes that they would make you smile as well. However, before we begin, I have to put in a little disclaimer. Mel had a gift for making people smile. He was an incredible entertainer – singer, songwriter, musician, and storyteller. He was a true, gifted artist – telling his stories with wonderful voice inflections, great facial expressions, and hilarious body language – and always managing his stutter to get others to laugh. An avid reader and a writer, he used the English language brilliantly – twisting pronunciations to add comic effect. When I write these stories, I am blessed that I can HEAR his words and SEE his facial expressions as I type….but those things are unfortunately so difficult to express in written words. For those of you who knew and loved Mel Tillis – I hope you can “hear” him in your mind as well while you read ahead…. For those of you who didn’t know Mel, he was known as the “Stutterin’ Boy” because he couldn’t speak without a stutter. His was not a stutter of repeated letters, but of pauses. At times, I know it was so frustrating for him – but he managed it beautifully and worked it into a trademark his audiences came to love. When I’ve included “……..” in the stories below, please know I’m indicating a Mel Tillis pause. I hope you can hear him.

……………………………………

During the 1990’s, someone in town decided to sell maps to the Branson music stars’ homes. As a result, the house we lived in at the end of a quiet neighborhood street became a bit busier with people driving down to see Mel Tillis’ home. Hannah and I were walking back from the park down the street one afternoon when a car passed us obviously following the celebrity map. When we got home, Mel had just finished working with his tomato plants and was getting on the mower to tackle the lawn. He was wearing blue jeans, a long sleeved shirt, ball cap, and sunglasses. The older couple had pulled their car into the driveway and as Hannah and I walked up, the little lady got out of the car and asked politely,

“Excuse me, but is this where Mel Tillis lives?”

“Yes, ma’am, it is”, I replied.

“Would it be all right if we took a quick picture? We will stay here on the driveway and won’t get on the grass”, she said.

“Sure, that will be fine.” I told her, so she headed back to the car to get her husband. As Hannah and I walked on I heard the lady say,

“George, she said it would be all right. You can get out and take the picture – but wait a minute until that gardner goes around to the back so that he won’t be in the picture.”

Hannah looked up at me with big eyes, and I grinned back down at her. The woman had no idea that the “gardener” was Mel himself. George stood waiting patiently to take his picture.

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Mel was a great cook and a great baker. Judy was a good cook also – but it was typically Mel who cooked our suppertime meal. He did two shows a day (2:00 and 8:00) five days a week and would come home in between to cook and eat supper, then get a quick rest before heading back. One day, the 2:00 matinee performance was running long and while he was performing he was thinking about the chicken he had planned to fry for supper. Stepping off stage while the Statesiders band played, he called me hurriedly and told me to go ahead and cut up the chicken in the refrigerator so it would be ready for him to fry when he got home – then he hung up quickly to walk back on stage. I got that fryer out of the refrigerator and stared at it. You see – I had never cut up a chicken in my life. I always bought mine in pieces! I took it out of the package and stared at it some more – then I did what any self-respecting girl would do…..I called my Mother for help. She wasn’t home – and I was getting desperate. The internet wasn’t available to search back in those days – and I didn’t know who to ask or what to do. One of Mel’s older daughters was visiting – home from college for the weekend – and she was asleep downstairs. I went down and woke her up – and together we went to work on that chicken – neither one of us knowing what we were doing. When Mel got home, we had hacked that poor bird into all kinds of pieces – none of them really recognizable. To his credit, he didn’t get upset. He just looked at the pitiful pieces and quietly started breading and frying them. When we sat down at the table to eat, he said, “You all might want to…..cover these with gravy ‘cause I had no idea…….what was what……after you two got through…….wrangling this poor thing!” That was the last time he asked me to do that! Epic fail – but now a fun memory.

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Mel was a constant student throughout his life. He loved to read, and he loved to learn – with a mind always creative and curious. I had flown in an airplane a total of one time before I worked for the Tillis’ – so I was still a pretty nervous flyer when Hannah and I started traveling back and forth from the little airport at Point Lookout, MO to the little airport in Gallatin, TN. When Mel was on the flights, however, he was a bundle of enthusiasm and curiosity. He most liked to ride up in the cockpit with Skip, the pilot….but when he was in the cabin he would sit looking out the window spotting planes. “Look, Lisa – there’s one right up there above us now” he would say. “Oop – there’s another – it’s a little one flying under us!” At first, it frightened me to see all the planes in the air around us. I had no idea they were even there until he pointed them out! Over time, I began to be interested, though – and now I think of him every time I fly – and it makes me smile.

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Eighteen years ago this month, I took some friends to see Mel’s show here in Branson. I hadn’t worked for the Tillis’ in several years at that point, and I didn’t get to see them as often as I would have liked. It was Mel’s very kind tradition to always do an autograph line after the show to meet and thank the people who came to see him. That autograph line could take a long time, and my group was in a hurry that night to leave and get something to eat, so I decided not to interrupt the line to say hello. (I always felt badly to leave without saying hi – but I also always felt presumptuous to walk up and interrupt the line. I didn’t want to be a bother – but I didn’t want to be rude either! It was always a hard decision for me.) As we were exiting the theater I heard a familiar voice call, “Heyyyyy, Lisa!” I smiled and walked over to give Mel a hug and say hello. His eyes were lit up, and he had a big mischievous smile on his face.

“Did you know I just had a birthday?” he said.

“I did! Happy birthday!”, I replied.

“I’m goin’ on 80, can you believe it?” he stated.

I saw people in the autograph line turning and talking – saying they didn’t realize he was almost 80 years old.

“Mel, you aren’t going on 80!!! You’re only 70!” I said shaking my head.

He grinned, looked me straight in the eye and said, “I know…but that’s…going on eighty!!!”

Makes me chuckle even to this day.

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I learned a lot from Mel – and I am grateful to him for everything he taught me. He believed strongly in honoring the flag. I had a t-shirt once with the American flag printed beautifully across the front. He looked at it sharply and said, “You know you’re not supposed to do that, don’t you?” When I asked what he meant, he referred to the flag code and told me that the American flag should never be used as wearing apparel. I’ve never worn a flag in that way since.

He also modeled for me that you should always do your best no matter what. When he decided to put together a cookbook to sell in the theater gift shop, he didn’t farm it out to people in his office – he went to work on it himself. He wanted the recipes to be really good – and to truly reflect his personal favorites. Let’s be honest – the cookbook was probably going to sell pretty well no matter what was in it – because it was “Mel’s Cookbook” – but he wanted to be sure to give people good recipes to try and good stories to go with them. He worked hard to get everything right – and my copy of the cookbook is one I treasure to this day.

When Mel decided to record a gospel album, part of the work was deciding which songs to include. As usual, Mel wanted to get it right – to do a good job. One day at the house he asked me if my Mother had any old Southern gospel albums. I told him she had tons of them – and he asked if he could borrow them. Judy had to buy him a record player to play the albums. During his free time for several days, he sat on the floor playing those old long play records and writing down notes and lyrics from his favorites on a yellow legal pad. He had trouble getting the lyrics to one old hymn he had selected, so he asked me if Mother might have that song in a songbook. She looked through her many songbooks and couldn’t find it – so she called friends around town and finally located it in a hymnal our friends the High family had. Months later when the album was complete, Mel would sing a gospel song during his shows and then give one of the new CD’s away to someone in the audience. One day, Mother and Daddy came to the show and I was sitting in the audience with them. Before Mel sang his gospel song, he asked Mother to stand and told the crowd how she had lended him her records and helped him find the songs for his album. Thanking her publicly, he gave her the free CD. I’ve always been grateful to him for giving her that moment of recognition.

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Happy birthday, Mel.

It’s hard to believe you’ve been gone almost three years.

Thank you for the music, the smiles and the laughs you brought to so many, the stories, the lessons and the memories..

I am grateful to have known you.