Thanks For Your Many Responses

Life: Thanks for your many responses.

As all of you know, a death of someone you care for leaves a void that cannot be filled. So it is with my nephew Arthur. His family did right by his obit, which I repeated in my March 5 post.

I interacted with Arthur more when I was in high school in the late 50’s and early 60’s, for in the fall of 1962, off I went to Sewanee, and then to Paris, Africa, Vietnam, and to grad schools, Washington, and married life. In Arthur’s first few years, I was therefore with him for several days at a time when he, his younger sister Frances, and parents came to visit. Arthur was consistently fun. The obit said he was quick to laugh, and he was. He was game.

In those early years, I was a teenager and wasn’t much on my sisters Marguerite and Harriet’s children (Arthur, Frances, Robert, and Mac) but got “stuck” with them from time to time and managed to make it fun. Here are some memories:

When my sister Marguerite would arrive from Birmingham at Christmas time, Arthur, who was just learning to walk, would rush in the front door at 820 W. Wesley in Atlanta, saying “Fire, Granddaddy (my father)! Fire!” and run to the fireplace in the living room, where a fire was burning. He’d poke it. In fact, that was his job. “Arthur, time to poke the fire,” which he’d do with alacrity. Even if the fire didn’t need poking, we’d give him the call. Sparks would fly.

At about that time, I remember Marguerite asking me to change Arthur’s clothes and get him dressed up since company was coming. As I said, I wasn’t big on such, but did. Marguerite had laid out his shirt and pants with shoulder straps. With me being a teenager and him 2 or 3 years old, I told him I’d dress him “in style.” I put on his shirt backwards, buttoning it up along his spine, the back collar under his chin. His pants I put on backwards too, zipping them up along his backside and buttoning the straps on the back waist. Down the steps he went, smiling and proud — to Marguerite’s surprise – and delight. The company joined in, with Arthur smiling big-time.

I was also charged with feeding him (or Frances, Robert, or Mac). At first it was okay, but soon got boring. I felt silly, trying to entice them to eat and applauding each nibble. Arthur liked English peas. Looking around the dining room table, I’d get a big silver serving spoon and give it to him. He’d scoop up the peas easily that were in his bowl, but as he put the serving spoon into his mouth, he’d tilt the spoon’s handle downwards, causing the peas to roll backwards. Puzzled, he’d try eating from the side of the spoon, but the big spoon wouldn’t fit in his mouth, and back the peas would roll. He’d see the peas in his bowl and in the spoon, but they weren’t going into his mouth. Quizzical at first, he’d eventually turn sad, his lips beginning to tremble as if to soon cry, which was not good for me as a baby-sitter. So into his mouth I’d dash a small spoonful of peas – to his pleasure – and then back to the big spoon. We’d carry on for about 15 minutes or so, until it was time to finish up with the small spoon, which he did with gusto.

I wouldn’t have done all this if Arthur (or Frances, Robert, or Mac) had been a cry-baby. As I hope these stories convey (and there are more), he was anything but that. He was game. There’s a void that can never be filled. Let’s hope he’s enjoying a new life and perhaps inspiring teenagers to feed young’uns with a big spoon or to put clothes on backwards and teach young’uns how to safely poke a fire.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR 

George W. McDaniel, PhD, is the President of McDaniel Consulting, LLC, a strategy firm that helps organizations use history to build bridges within itself and to its broader constituents. For 25 years, he served as the Executive Director of Drayton Hall, a historic site in Charleston, SC. A native of Atlanta, he earned a BA from Sewanee, a MAT (history) from Brown University, and PhD (history) from Duke. Interspersed through those years were travels to many places — Europe, Africa, Vietnam — where he saw peace and war and learned by experience about cultural differences and commonalities. For 40 years, he built a career working in education and history museums, beginning with the Smithsonian Institution, and earning awards at the local, state, and national levels. 

“Building Bridges through History”

The company’s tagline is grounded in McDaniel’s personal beliefs and his professional experience.  Services address site management, preservation, education, board development, fundraising,  community outreach, and more.

Rather than using history to divide us, McDaniel helps organizations use history, especially local history, to enhance cross-cultural understanding and to support local museums, preservation, and education.

Turning Beliefs into Actions

Dr. McDaniel led volunteer efforts with Emanuel AME Church and historical organizations in Charleston to use historic preservation to enhance racial reconciliation and healing.

A frequent writer, speaker, and facilitator, reach him at gmcdaniel4444@gmail.com or through his website www.mcdanielconsulting.net.

Images courtesy of the author unless otherwise noted.