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The Forsyth County News
Opinion
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THE FORSYTH COUNTY NEWS
P.O. Box 210
Cumming, GA 30130
The beginnings of a
backwards journey
’ Up until 1994, all I knew
■' about my mom’s family was
y that she was born in 1916 in
•' Seville, Ga. Her family moved
over to Cordele, Ga., when she
• was small. I knew her dad ran a
• drugstore, but he died long ago.
► Her mom died before I was
born.
► One day in 1994, I was eating
lunch with her and dad. We
*. were talking about how our
*• family had been lucky and how
•’ none of us kids had been in jail.
• Mom got up to get some dessert
‘ and said: “Well, I guess that’s
t. right. It could be worse. My
•• Uncle Chester killed a man that
• time when I was a little girl.”
: Whoa! When? Where? Why?
? All mom would say was that
I' Uncle Chester had shot a banker
► named Sappington. The banker
had accused Chester of stealing
? the car, and so Uncle Chester
shot him one afternoon in the
■ Post Office. Chester was sent to
•• prison and put
£ on the chain
•. gang. One day
•• his brother
drove by on
’• the highway.
?Che s t e r
hopped on the
'* running board
66
Chester was sent
to prison and put
on the chain gang.
of the car and they took off.
Mom said the last time they
* heard from Chester, he was in
Australia.
; 1 A few months after mom told
; me this story, I drove down to
•’ Seville, *Ga. There’s not much
••there. There’s an old brick
’* store, a small post office, some
* houses, and a couple of old
churches. It’s just a nice little
sleepy community.
I went into the Post Office and
ksked the lady behind the
counter to direct me to the old
est person in Seville. She sent
me out to the cemetery, where I
would find Mr. Jim. The post
mistress said Mr. Jim should be
there cutting grass.
Mr. Jim shut off his lawnmow
er and we introduced ourselves.
I asked him if he remembered
any of the Wilson fimily. He
Mw David
fl * Clark
thought for a minute, and asked
if my grandpa ran a drugstore. I
told him I thought that was cor
rect. He said: “So Dora Wilson
was your aunt, then.”
I had never heard of anyone
named Dora. Mr. Jim led me
over to the grave of Dora
Wilson Hill. She died in 1948.
Mr. Jim said: “Dora was your
grandpa’s sister.”
Had Mr. Jim ever heard of
Uncle Chester? “Yes, he was
your grandpa’s brother.”
I asked Mr. Jim if he remem
bered any trouble with Uncle
Chester. Mr. Jim just eyed me
for a few moments, and then he
looked down at
the ground. He
looked back at
me and asked
me what I
knew about
Chester. I told
him what mom
had said. Mr.
Jim asked me if I knew what
happened to Chester. I told him
Mom’s story about getting a let
ter from Australia.
Mr. Jim shook his head and
said: “Well, I don’t need to be
the one to tell you about your
family.” He began walking back
to his lawnmower.
I said: “Mr. Jim, that’s what I
came here for.”
Mr. Jim stopped and turned
around.
The story about Uncle Chester
will continue in future columns.
David Clark’s work has appeared
on NPR’s "All Things
Considered," in The Christian
Science Monitor and Southern
Living. His column is syndicated
in six states. Clark would love to
hear from you. Write to him at
P.O. Box 148; Cochran, Ga.
31014.
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II •**»»*—o-n-w.
Dr. Thigpen lived, loved, leaves magic behind
His widow says he could have
lived 180 years and still she
would not have been ready to say
goodbye. Those who knew Dr.
Corbett Thigpen well can relate.
I woke up the morning of his
funeral and thought, the world is
an emptier place in his absence.
But that was silly. Naturally, he
is still among us, as is his dear
friend Margaret Mitchell and his
partner long departed, Dr. Hervey
Cleckley.
Together the two physicians
from Augusta described in a book
their experiences with a young
woman who exhibited multiple
personalities. “Three Faces of
Eve” stirred the public’s interest
and prompted one of Hollywood’s
finest movies.
But long before the acclaim and
accolades, there had been the
close association with another of
the nation’s finest, Margaret
Mitchell. He spoke warmly of his
friendship with the author of
“Gone With The Wind,” recalling
a time when public recognition
was bathed in a shroud of mys
tique and fancy.
He later lamented following so
closely the wishes of his occa
sionally eccentric friend, chuck
ling as he described her insistence
that any correspondence she
might send be shredded. Shaking
his head at her adamant refusal to
sign his limited edition of her
tome, not even her trademark ini
tials, he said her excuse was
always to carry her forearm about
on a pillow, pleading infirmity.
&
Heaven forbids Dr.
Thigpen no more.
Now he is surely
welcomed...
99
Heaven forbid any profit be
made from their association.
Heaven forbids Dr. Thigpen no
more. Now he is surely welcomed
into the fold, the ceaseless pain
endured in his latter years eased at
last. Saint Peter is most certainly
smiling at the antics of the new
arrival, puzzling over the shrewd
magician’s deft tricks. No longer
slowed by the betrayal of aging
ligaments and bones, the insa
tiable entertainer is freed once
more, his soaring humor and mis
chievous nature liberated to envel
op us all, confirming that who he
was to each of us has in no way
been diminished by death.
His thimble rests on my desk at
home and it tap, tap, taps against
the rftgbcv of my keyboard as I
compose, clicking out its inspira
tion as I work. It was during an
interview nearly two years ago
that he gave it to me, demonstrat
ing a favorite trick with a quarter
and a smile. He watched eagerly
for my delight in return and
beamed as I laughed. Such are the
gifts between friends.
Magician, hypnotist, teacher,
psychiatrist, author, celebrity - he
was all of that and more. His
biggest fans are his own sons,
Wayne, Mark and Lance, his role
of father undoubtedly his most
treasured. His eyes softened and
misted at the mere mention of his
beloved wife, Mary.
Dr. Corbett Thigpen was a man
who lived life fully, squeezing
from his nearly 80 years an aston
ishing range of experiences. The
only true loss now is that of those
who never knew him or the
breadth of his intellect, warm
clasp of his handshake or genuine
smile.
So, now that he’s gone, is that
simply that? Nice while it lasted,
but now the memory will have to
do? How many times have we
loved someone, feared their leav
ing us in spite of the discomfort
they may endure, dreaded the
world without them, and then
found that life does, in fact, go on
with subdued normalcy? Do we
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FORSYTH COUNTY NEWS Thursd»y, March 25,1999 I
continue in spite of their loss or
because of their influence?
For every moment of love in life
that we share, I believe our soul is
expanded by that same portion. So
it is impossible for death to
diminish the presence of one so
dear. Every mutual smile, every
blended tear, every spark of indi
viduality, every glimpse of
humanity becomes our own to
cherish and embrace. Putting one
foot in front of the other is no
longer a solitary act.
Loving is still an act of two,
strengthening the shoulders of
one.
And so it is with a bit of sadness
that I say fair voyage, my friend.
You lived your life surely as God
intended, tasting and relishing and
Cheryl
Vaughn
testing and hoping and daring and
loving. And, perhaps most impor
tantly of all, leaving those around
you wanting just a little bit more.
It is perhaps your greatest magic
trick yet. I can’t see you and yet
you’re here. Does your smile
match my own?
Cheryl Vaughn is a features
writer and special sections editor
with the Forsyth County News.
Her columns appear in the
Thursday and Sunday editions.
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