Celebrating memories adds richness to our lives
A week or so ago, the maternal unit told me about a speaker she saw on Book TV (I know, it is rather staid) about the future of history. That phrase, “future of history” seems almost oxymoronic, doesn’t it?
The speaker was talking about how difficult it will be for historians to capture and retell the history of our days in the next century.
Why? Because we rarely write anything down on paper and save it anymore.
I remember plundering in my mother’s things (please don’t tell her) and she had a hatbox that contained her wedding veil. Also in that box was a bundle of letters from my father to my mother when they were in college in two different cities. They were neatly (and tightly) tied with a blue satin ribbon. Luckily for my parents’ privacy, I was much more interested in playing with the veil than snooping into the letters. I wish I had them today and I expect the letters, like the veil have lost their way in the many moves Mom has made since my childhood.
Though they may have been very personal and intimate, they are the record of the courtship that eventually brought me into this world. My parents have been divorced for nearly 30 years and sadly, that record is gone.
And very few records will exist in the 22nd century I predict, as we text and instant message and email our way through business negotiations, social events and yes, even courtships.
When Mom and I moved to our house in 1995, we were excited to learn that our neighbors were Helen and the late John Katsos. Helen is the sister of the late George and Jimmy Metropol of the Central Coffee Shop fame. George’s late wife Penny was my mother’s reference librarian, so the whole scenario had a rather warm and intentional feeling to it.
Mr. John presented himself at our front door on the second or third day we lived in our little house on Sunset Drive. He was bearing a gift … a beautifully bound, gold lettered copy of his book, “The Life of John Katsos … the Greek Immigrant.”
It was his autobiography.
I was so impressed. This man, still very active in the work force at the time, had taken the time to transcribe and capture the very essence of who he was.
It described his military career, how he came to Manning, and the courtship of his beloved and beautiful wife, Helen. It contains loads of pictures of everything from his childhood in Greece, pictures of his children, Angela Kiehling and the late Jim Katsos, to celebrations in later life.
What an incredible gift to his children, his grandchildren and some day, his great-grandchildren. Even though Mr. John is gone, he has left behind a part of him that can be shared forever.
He’s left another little part that has become so precious to us at the Clarendon Citizen.
In the High Commander’s office is a very simple rocking chair. It has a very simple, but worn cushion.
It was Mr. John’s rocking chair and I remember seeing him on the sidewalk in front of his liquor store, greeting the passersby, waving to the motorists on Brooks Street and getting up to serve a customer or two.
That rocking chair is another one of those “never to be destroyed” relics that proved that John Katsos was here. The High Commander loves to have visitors sit in it and if they are longtime residents of the county, he loves to tell them about the rocking chair.
It is a precious feature of a place we have come to call home. We are so glad Mr. John’s rocker is now part of our history.
It makes us rich beyond words.
