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Betty’s Week

By Betty Shearer

Was ready for the predicted rain Wednesday morning—had my raincoat and plastic bags to protect the papers. I was so glad that they were not needed. However the downpours Thursday night, Friday and Saturday definitely made up for what I missed Wednesday morning.

Bo’s and Mom’s driveways really suffered in all that rain—the pot holes are about to become lakes. I did not leave the nursing home from 4 p.m. Thursday until about 8 Friday night—food was just not worth going out into the the sheets of water coming down. I survived on fruit, cookies, crackers and peanut butter and vienna sausages. Carolyn and Bo did bring me sausage, gravy and a biscuit for breakfast one morning and it was good.

Latest Briley  escapade was in The Olive Garden recently. Carolyn and Bo, with Briley, stopped for lunch and ordered. While serving the table next to them, the waiter also delivered their bread sticks. Salad was coming later. He served the table next to them salad, along with their bread. Briley wanted salad also and pitched a fit—crying uncontrollably, while pointing to the salad on the other table, making it clear that he wanted  it.           

The waiter wasted no time in finding salad for Briley and he immediately calmed down. Bo said though, that the waiter came back to see that he was okay. Bo said that Briley could have had every salad around him if he’d just let the other diners give theirs to him. Bo said he’d never seen him act that way and hopes he doesn’t again. This three year old does like salad.


It was so good to visit with Bro. Brian Able and his wife, Mary Lee, Wednesday afternoon. Bro Brian was our first pastor at Woodland Hills and he was a great preacher, a wonderful pastor, and just a joy to have around. He still has that keen sense of humor—I’ve always said he was a certifiable nut. He celebrated his 80th birthday March 2 and when he came in I says, “Happy belated 80th birthday!” His reply was, “No, Ed would have been 80 on the 15th, but I only celebrated my 27th.”

Have to admit that he does look great—but not quiet that young. Has changed very little since he left us—Mary Lee must be taking very good care of him. He is pastor of Grace Baptist Church in Vicksburg—a church he pastored when it was built. A few years after he left us this congregation called and invited him to be their pastor again. He told them that pastors rarely go back to a former pastorate. They assured him that it was okay for him to accept because they were looking for the most do-nothing preacher they could find (they’ve obviously been exposed to his humor, also.)

He says, “Well, you’ve found him.”  He has been back at Grace for several years now and God is still blessing him and the church. I know Brian will be a blessing to any congregation that is privileged to serve under his pastorate—he’s a hard worker and a great preacher.  He and Mary Lee were in the area due to a death in the family and having a sister (Brian’s) in Baptist at Oxford waiting for possible by-pass surgery. Our prayers are with her.

He extends greeting to all his friends in the Valley. He reports that all the children and grands are doing fine. I do hope they’ll visit again soon—just a fun visit, though.


Bo said he had to get out in heavy fog one morning. I told him about my fog a couple of weeks ago and from there we went to our scary fog stories. His most unusual was one that I’d never heard and I’ve heard most of Bo’s tales. In his younger days he worked for Boyd Construction Company out of Grenada. He was the foreman and they were constructing the second airport in Hattiesburg at the time.                 He and Mr. Boyd started out to the construction site early one morning and ran into some very heavy fog—Bo said they had trouble finding the turnoff for the site. Bo was in front with Mr. Boyd following and Bo says he heard what sounded like a helicopter right on top of them. They had made it to the end of the runway and he rolled down his windows and heard a voice asking, “Where are we?” Bo answered, “You’re at the new airport in Hattiesburg, Mississippi.”

Reply, “Didn’t know Hattiesburg had two airports.” “Well, they don’t yet, it’s under construction,” Bo answered. The pilot then asked where he could safely land and Bo assured him that if he moved about one hundred feet forward he had a clear runway that he was welcome to use. Not paved, but a hard, smooth dirt surface. After it landed Bo and Mr. Boyd pulled on up in their pickups, invited the party, which consisted of three couples, to get into their trucks. They did and were taken to the construction office, where Bo made coffee and they all visited until about 11 a.m.

The pilot used the phone (before cell phones) and informed the conference they were scheduled to attend early in the morning in Biloxi that they’d be a bit late. I had always though that fog was just close to the ground, but apparently it sometimes reaches high into the sky.

Ed and I had several scary fog trips. The worse was going into Jamestown, New York, when Jim was in school at Rochester. It was about two in the morning and we’d planned to go all the way, but the fog started to thicken and Ed decided we’d better stop. It was a good call. We barely found the turn off for the motel—one we’d stayed in before. Got to bed and woke up early next morning. I opened the curtains and there was a wall of cotton outside. We showered, dressed and watched TV until about 10.

We knew where we were in the motel and our room had an outside door, which exited onto the walk that went to the restaurant. Went out into that cotton and by placing our hands on the wall we inched along to the door of the restaurant. Got inside and ate a wonderful breakfast, still fog didn’t lift. We finally got out of there about noon. I’ve never seen anything like it again—and hope I don’t—you actually could not see your hand right in front of  your face.

Then we got on to the unexplained helicopter crash last week and Bo says he believes that they probably were caught in fog.


Sunshine today has been wonderful. I had to run to the van a few minutes ago and came back in and begged David to move my desk out on the sidewalk. It would be great at the present, but I’m sure if I put it out there the rain would promptly come back.

A touch of spring, though, is wonderful, after all the snow, ice and rain over the past couple of weeks. Keep the faith—Spring will be here next week!


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