Thoughts of Scottie
Lea Ringler
Saturday, May 8, 2010
We were a privileged lot of kids, we were.
We were the epitome — no, the prototype of whichever first lady it was who admonished the country that it takes a village to raise a child.
We — Lindy, Marcy, Merryl, Cheryl, Jonda, Chuck, Kent, Jay, Shelley, Tim, Mike, Doug, Stephen, Cathy, Ceilly, Tommy, Kathy, Marty, Jan, Dana, Diane, Pat, Mike and Laura, myself — are (and were) the children of World War II veterans and their wives. We have profited by our parents comaraderie and friendship.
We grew up — so to speak — in one another’s homes. We were (and are), as it was (and is), at home, in one another’s homes. Our parents, Emporia State students and fledgling businessmen in the late 1940s and early 1950s — as the times warranted, socialized with one another and they dragged us — their offspring -- along. We didn’t have babysitters, we had friends and households — a whole bunch of them.
We thought that was the way everyone grew up. That was our normal. Man, were we ever privileged. We didn’t know it then, but, my how the years have brought home that fact.
Scottie was an integral component of our youth. He, after all, had his own lake on Topeka Street where most of use learned to water ski and ice skate. He, after all, was the one who seemed to draw people into his aura — his joie de vivre, his zest for celebration of life — oh, hell, the celebration of today, or whatever.
Any excuse for a get-together — any excuse for a party. His unbelievably remarkable voice and his equally remarkable piano playing are the stuff that stories are made of.
All we kids (despite our gray hair now) have fond memories of our youth and the annual Fourth of July parties at Mouse Lake, Memorial Day campouts at Spencer’s Creek, treks through the Flint Hills to Big Springs and the pontoon rides at Lake Kahola on Sally’s boat. What have I forgotten? Probably a lot.
What brought our parents — and we their children — together in such a perfect world? Maybe it was the fact that the fathers were returning veterans who needed one another’s companionship after their gut-wrenching war experiences, or maybe it was that our mothers seemed all to be pregnant and in Dr. Spencer’s office at the same time. Maybe it was fate. Whatever it was, I know in my heart, that it profited all of us immensely.
Scottie’s death impacts not only his biological daughters, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, but the rest of us kinda-sorta daughters and sons, granddaughters and grandsons. Scottie’s death signifies for all of us a passage that none of us want to take, but have been prepared to experience as brothers and sisters.
steakbuffet (anonymous) says...
Jo and Scottie were wonderful neighbors we all miss very much. Many folk were fortunate to know and see them time and time again. They were very dedicated to the Emporia community.
One thing that sticks in my mind, not mentioned, were the many Shrine activities and how people many were positively influenced by an one time event. I was in Iola Saturday and mentioned Jo and Scottie. I didn't even need to say I was speaking of Merryls' parents, they were so well known. Like a stone skipped across the lake, their outer circles spread way beyond the Emporia area. They were one in a million.
May 9, 2010 at 2:57 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )