Reggie's Homily for Jean Absher

The Lady in The Window

A Homily for Jean Absher


When I asked Bill earlier this week if there was anything he wanted to be certain that was said here today, he remarked, “it’s hard, it’s real hard when you have to face it,” and then he said, “you’re never prepared.”  I was profoundly moved at how well Bill captured with a few simple words what we have all been experiencing in these last few days.  We knew that Jean’s time with us was growing shorter and we did everything we could to let her know how much we loved her and appreciated her.  She did everything she could to show us a beauty that has taught us about the power of God to be at work in our lives when we must move from this life into eternal life.  Yet, as Bill so rightly said, “it’s hard, it’s real heard when you have to face it; you’re never prepared.”  So we gathered here in this place that Jean loved so much to remember the God she served so well who cares for her now in ways that we no longer could so that we may honor the gift that God gave us in her as well as the gift of eternal life which she now lives with her Lord Jesus Christ.
My first memory of Jean Absher goes back to my very first Sunday at Blacksburg United Methodist Church.  She and Bill were celebrating a wedding anniversary that weekend, I guess it was their sixty-second anniversary, and I was struck by the mutual love so evident in their relationship as well as the love of their family for them.  I would come to have a much deeper respect for that love as it has been my privilege over the years to serve as the pastor of this congregation.  In those early years, I have vivid memories of Jean entering the sanctuary from the door that goes out to the lobby.  She was always beautifully dressed, but the most beautiful aspect of her appearance was her wonderful smile which literally brought light into the sanctuary.  She would use the side aisle to make her way back to her seat and she would stop every few pews to greet friends and share a laugh with them.  She made the sanctuary a very loving place to be by the way she loved the people in it.  People in this church experienced the love of God at work in this sanctuary because Jean was sharing her love with them.  I can remember how folks like Harry and Irene Harris waited with great anticipation to share words with Jean.  She would eventually make her way to her seat where Doris and Bob would sit in front of her and Barbara and Archie would sit beside her.  When the service was over, Jean always made it a point to give me a hard time.  She was the kind of person who could tease you and convey to you how much she loved you at the same time.  We’ve spent the last nine years teasing and loving one another.  I always looked forward to visiting with Jean because I knew that she was going to do her best to get me with some quip and she often did!  Our banter continued at the hospital and after they brought her home from the hospital.  She was not about to let her declining strength rob her of her joy for life and the people in her life.  I know that she gave this same kind of love to other people and it is why so many of us did all that we could to convey to her in these recent days how much we loved her and appreciated her.
Barbara commented that her mother was not vocal about her faith, but that she lived it.  We know that Jean Absher could not have spoken more powerfully about her Christian faith than she did with her beautiful example.  She didn’t have to talk about Christian faith because it permeated everything she said and did.  Curtis wrote an email while his mother was in the hospital about her pleasant personality.  He cited Galatians 5 where Paul lists the fruits of Spirit: love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control.  She shared her beautiful smile even when her face was covered with a mask and she gave many “thank you Sweetie,” to the people who were providing her care.  This remarkable example in her most challenging days reflected a way of life that Jean had lived all her life.  Curtis and Barbara shared how she was raised not to complain, but to see the goodness of life and to celebrate it.  It was something she had learned from her own mother and she taught all of us about its power to transform life.  In the last few years, Jean had become even more affirming of her appreciation of life as she would declare that something that had been done for her was undoubtedly the best that she had ever experienced.  She was always positive and always appreciative.  She loved to brag about her caretaker, Mary, Janice, and Lodis and how great they treated her and Bill.  I think Mary, Janice, and Lodis would be the first to acknowledge that Jean made them better people.  You couldn’t help but be better when you were around Jean because she brought out the best in life with her love for people.
Of course, the people she loved the most and rightly so, was her family.  She and Bill shared 71 years in marriage and Jean loved to tell how Mrs. Wall had declared that their marriage would never last at the time that they got married.  Bill shared with me that he had said it before, that people that can get along like he and Jean did, that he wouldn’t trade it for anything.  Jean took care of Bill in a way that demonstrated how proud she was of him.  In an essay that Curtis wrote on his blog entitled “The Lady in the Window,” he recounts how his mother polished Bill’s brogan shoes and made certain that there were well starched creases in his work clothes.  Jean wanted to give her husband the best that was possible and she did it with a well-ordered home, with well-cooked meals, and with a love that left no doubt that Bill was the most important person in her life.  Even in recent weeks, she would continue to ask Bill if needed something, still doing her best to take care of him.  Jean gave this same kind of care to Curtis and Barbara.  Barbara said that her mother’s family was her career and those of us who know and love this family know what an outstanding job Jean did with her family.  The essay that Curtis wrote is a beautiful testimony to a mother’s love that did the very best she could for her children.  It recounts how Jean sewed clothes for them and polished their shoes.  She was very proud of her family and she wanted them to look their very best.  She took great pride in them and they gave her great joy.  Barbara told how a neighbor once commented to Jean after she had dressed after a nap, “Well, Jean, where is she going, to a party?”  While Jean dressed in a way that accentuated her God-given beauty, she was often seen wearing an apron.  The apron reflected her life of service in keeping her home in perfect shape as well as preparing food that couldn’t be any better.  Her grandchildren will long remember her macaroni and cheese and the care packages that she would give them when it was time to go home.  Karen, her granddaughter, talked about the barrels of boiled custard Jean made and took to people.  She made everyone’s favorite foods and that made everyone know how special they were to Jean.  Curtis shared that his mom once told him that her favorite things to do were to clean house and write notes.  When asked about that comment sometime later, she wasn’t sure about the cleaning, but she continued to affirm her joy for writing notes which became a source of joy for all of us who received them.  I know I kept those notes, which typically had a little quip and an affirmation of love, with notes that my mother wrote to me.  Jean was like a mother to me and many others.
I am confident that all of us will remember Jean’s beautiful sense of humor.  It was never cutting and it was  always loving.  Barbara and Curtis shared how their mom would call the church office and ask Janet Tabor to put her name on the list of jobs that Bill was doing at the church.  She enjoyed joking with everyone.  Jean and Kenneth McCoy loved giving each other a hard time.  Jean was comfortable with everyone because she loved everybody.  Jean’s sense of humor was a reflection of her enjoyment of life.  Karen, her granddaughter, wrote about something all the family will remember.  She recounted how Jean used to sing while she swept the floors, did dishes, whatever.  She wrote, “I don’t know that she even knew she was doing it and sometimes it was more of a hum.”  Curtis and Barbara recalled their mother singing “Oh what a beautiful morning” when she was starting her day.  I think Karen is probably right that Jean didn’t know that she was doing it.  It was as natural to her as breathing.
It is because Jean was such a remarkable, beautiful, loving person that it’s hard, real hard, to think that she is no longer with us in these life transforming ways.  Yet we know that she will always be with us in this way because her example will always challenge us to live with a greater joy and appreciation for life.  I am confident that Jean would want us to remember the life she now lives with God.  She remained secure in her knowledge of God’s love for her and for us until her last breath.  Because Jean was loved so well by so many, it was difficult for me to provide any real pastoral care.  But there was one night when Kaye was the only one with her at the hospital when I was finally able to engage Jean in a way that will forever confirm her deep faith and abiding trust in God.  I tried to lead Jean into a conversation about how difficult, about how frustrating, about how hard her situation was.  She genuinely didn’t see it that way.  I explored whether she was depressed or dismayed and she truly wasn’t.  She was so grounded in her Christian faith that the approach of death gave her no anxiety whatsoever.  She was perfectly at peace.  The founder of Methodism, John Wesley, taught us that we are to strive for perfection and he defined that as having the mind in us that was in Christ.  It is total and complete trust in God.  Wesley didn’t think that most of us experience perfection in this life, but rather he thought that most of us would experience it in the life to come.  Nevertheless he held out that it was possible for a few people to experience perfection in this life because he discerned it in a few people under his care.  If you ever want to understand this teaching of Methodist theology, you only need to remember the life of Jean Absher.  I have no doubt that she had experienced Christian perfection because of the way she lived and the way she died.  She has shown us what is possible in Jesus Christ.  Thanks be  to God for the gift of Jean Absher who was a faithful disciple of Jesus Christ.  It’s hard, it’s real hard.  May we always understand our heartache as a reflection of the precious gift given in Jean Absher and may that always help us to appreciate the precious gift given in Jesus Christ.

Reginald D. Tuck
Blacksburg United Methodist Church
November 19, 2010

W. J. Absher, Final Chapter

The Unpreachable Sermon
A Homily for Bill Absher

We preachers know that there are some sermons that even on our best days we are not capable of preaching.  The truth of what we are trying to convey is too large, too deep, too thick, too profound for us to express with words.  The way that God has been at work is beyond belief and it makes belief possible; but the preacher knows that no sermon can fully express what has been experienced.  This is the situation that we face this morning as we gather to remember and give thanks for the life of Bill Absher.  There is no sermon that can adequate convey what we have experienced in the life of Bill Absher because his life was a sermon and it was much more powerful than anything that will ever be preached from a pulpit in a church.  The church was found wherever Bill Absher happened to be.  Some people talk about being the hands and feet of Christ; Bill Absher was the heart of Christ.  He was also the hands and feet of Christ, but the way that Bill used his hands and feet gave expression to the heart of Christ.  Bill was not holier than thou, but Bill was holy and his holiness allowed us to see and experience the beauty of God’s love.  When we celebrated Jean’s life in November, I shared my impression that Jean reflected what we Methodists call Christian perfection.  I thought the same was true for Bill.  When I related this impression to him during his last hospitalization, Bill commented something to the effect that he should have learned something in ninety years.  He had learned what it means to be a disciple of Jesus Christ and his example taught us the deeper truths of our faith which was the greatest sermon that it will ever be our privilege to experience.  So I trust you will recognize and understand that I am not capable of preaching the sermon that was Bill Absher.  Rather I will simply recount some glimpses of a much larger sermon in the hope that it will remind us all of the God who was at work in and through Bill Absher as well as the way God cares for him and promises to help us.
Curtis observed at the prayer meeting this past Tuesday that a sociologist would have predicted a bleak future for Bill when he was a boy.  Bill’s father was killed when he was ten years old and Bill assumed responsibilities for his family that did not permit him to finish high school.  Bill had often dreamed of going back to school and he had often said that he would have liked to have been an extension agent.  Bill taught himself to be a successful business man which prompted George Allen, an extension agent, to call Bill an extension carpenter.  People in Blacksburg knew that they could go to Bill Absher for good guidance and fair treatment.  People would often bring some item to the store that they wanted to replace by buying another one.  Bill would examine the item and fix it.  People knew that they could trust Bill Absher and he built more than a business; he built a reputation that made him one of the most loved and respected people in this community.  Bill started his own business at age 51 after working as a carpenter at the arsenal in Radford where he was later hired as an employee.  While visiting Curtis in Kentucky, he bought a delivery truck, paint shakers, and shelves from a company that was going out of business to do something that he had contemplated for many years.  No sociologist would have predicted that a man who had to grow up without a father, did not have the benefit of finishing his education, and served his nation during the Second World War would turn out to be one of the most respected people in his community.  A sociologist would have predicted many other things, but Bill Absher was always predictably reliable and trustworthy.  I’m sure many of us remember how Jean loved to tell of the woman who had predicted that their marriage wouldn’t last.
Bill and Jean not only had a marriage that lasted far beyond what anyone would have predicted, but they enjoyed a relationship that made them predictable in their devotion for one another.  They were always there for one another and I know that Bill deeply missed Jean.  The depth of their relationship was given its most beautiful expression in the love of their family.  Barbara and Curtis cared for their parents in ways that left no doubt that they were deeply loved and appreciated.  I spent many times with Bill and Jean looking at photographs of the grandchildren and great-grandchildren.  Bill and Jean were immensely proud of their family and they took great delight in the lives of their grandchildren and great-grandchildren.  Mindy, Bill’s granddaughter, sent him a letter last week that read in part, “I love that I was able to share your home with my family!  There is no place where we all love to be like Blacksburg.  I know that having my grandparents around to get to know my children is a special treasure.  I am so thankful that you and grandma set such a wonderful example of love and life and that my children have had the opportunity to experience that as well!”  Beth wrote from Chile, “I want to thank you for living your ministry for the world to see, regardless of whether or not the world was watching.  You have taught me, and others, so much by your quiet example.”
It is impossible to talk about Bill Absher for very long without talking about his Christian faith.  It permeated his life and touched the lives of all who knew him.  Beth continued in her letter, “There has been much said in recent months, and I am sure much more to be said, about your life of service . . . to your family, to your church and to your community.  Thank you for that witness of giving oneself, of using the unique set of talents that God has given you in order to bring Him glory.  Yours is a life that has brought Him glory, and continues to do so through the lives of your children who also live lives of dedicated service to their families, their churches and their communities.”  Beth later wrote, “Other than reading the Roanoke Times, the only books I can remember seeing you read are your Bible and your Sunday School lesson.  In fact, one of my fondest memories of you is coming home from school one day when you were visiting us in Kentucky and finding you sitting under a tree reading your Bible.  It made quite an impression on me because I realized that if you were reading it, it really was an important book.”  Mindy recounted in her letter, “My first memories of Blacksburg are probably at your church.  How fitting is that?  I remember feeling so small while I looked up at that beautiful wood ceiling and thinking that it looked a hundred miles to the front of the church.  All my life, every time I go into a new church, I compare it to the Blacksburg United Methodist Church.  I’ve yet to find one as compelling!  I think though that maybe the reason your church is unparalleled is not because of its architecture but because of the people.”  As the pastor of this church, I know that a lot of the people are here because of Bill Absher.
Bill Absher will always be one of the most important people in the history of this church.  His love for this church is legendary.  Bill is the one who often found his way through the church basement in the dark to insure that the church was warm and comfortable on Sunday mornings.  Bill is the one who often did the hard work of starting some new ministry and never wanted a place of prominence in the leadership of that new ministry.  He helped to organize the prayer breakfast with Gunnar Teilmann.  Bill was told that if he would get the people, Gunnar and Richard Barker would see to the leadership.  Bill told them that they had a deal and Bill faithfully called people to invite them to be a part of that ministry.  Bill had a way of inviting people to join in ministry that was loving and compelling.  He never gave up on people, but persisted in his loving invitation.  Bill was an important part of the Murrill Bible Study and while he was well qualified to teach the class himself, he always took on the role of finding people to teach.  He had recruited Carter Elliott and Mark Smith in more recent years.  Bill was truly a servant of the church who understood the Christ who came not to be served, but to serve.  Curtis called him a talent scout who would figure out who could do what and then worked to make it happen.  I am confident that it would have been a whole lot less work for Bill to do it himself, but he understood ministry.  It is a lesson that I am still learning myself and Bill Absher was a master teacher.
As the pastor of Bill Absher’s church, it was my privilege to experience his witness of Christian faith in the most challenging times of his life.  Bill demonstrated the strength that is possible in Christ as he experienced Jean’s death.  He was always man enough to cry and he had studied materials given to him by Hospice about grieving the death of a spouse.  He kept those materials tucked in his chair and often studied them.  He did not try to minimize or ignore his grief, but he entered into it, trusting that God would meet him in that place.  He knew what we are experiencing this day and he would want us to know that God will find us even in this place.  As Bill’s condition became more difficult and he had to make a decision about going into Hospice, we had some serious conversations.  We talked soon after he made the decision to go into Hospice Care and he was quite clear with me that he was comfortable with his decision.  As Bill began to move into that place which is somewhere between life and eternal life, I would question Bill about whether he was having any dreams.  For a while, Bill reported that he was not having any dreams, but a few weeks ago, he shared with me, initiating the conversation himself, that he had had a dream.  He was here at the church digging a new well.  When I asked if he had hit water in his dream, he said no.  I shared my impression that the dream might be about how this experience was going to take him to a deeper place in his spiritual life since this experience was unlike any that he had ever known before in life.  Bill shook his head in agreement and he continued to report having that dream.  It is instructive that what was most on Bill’s mind was a project at the church; a project to provide water.  The images and the deeper meaning of a well and water reflect a depth of spirituality that is deeply grounded in the Biblical witness.  When I related the dream to my wife, she offered her impression that the dream might also be about the church.  She suggested that Bill’s dream might be Bill’s final lesson for us; teaching us to go deeper, to look for new sources of living water to sustain us in our life as a Christian community.  Curtis thought we might both be right.  Because Bill had periods in the last week when he would not sleep, I probed him about this situation.  I asked if there was anything on his mind and he indicated that there was.  When I asked him if he wanted to talk about it, he would begin to tell me how much he loved me.  I thought that was his way of avoiding talking about what was on his mind so we went through that sequence of conversation three times.  Wanting to be certain that I had given him every opportunity to express any anxiety that he might have about his approaching death, I bluntly asked him if was afraid.  He responded immediately and his response was a resounding and clear, “No!”  So I think what was truly on his mind was telling me that he loved me.  Then Bill turned to the subject of my mother saying that he was sorry that she had died as tears rolled down his cheeks.  Later Bill turned the conversation to my father saying that he knew my father and that he was a nice man.  He said something about my father having a delivery job.  Now Bill never knew my father or it may be more accurate to say that Bill did not know my father when my father made his home in this world.  As I listened to Bill, I began to discern that Bill may have come to know my father as he was moving into that place between life and eternal life.  So I asked Bill if he would take a message to my father.  As he shook his head affirmatively, I asked Bill to tell my father that I love him.  He agreed to give him the message.  Now do you understand what was happening?  As Bill Absher was dying, he was still doing ministry.  He was able to do that because he knew and served a living Lord.
When Bill Absher took his last breath, Lodis, his caretaker, was playing a CD and singing, Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.  Until his last breath in this world, Bill Absher was focused on the love of God.  Thanks be to God for the sermon that was Bill Absher which has taught about and touched us with the love of Christ Jesus our Lord.

Reginald D. Tuck
Blacksburg United Methodist Church
April 7, 2011

W. J. Absher. Chapter 3: Working for an education.

W. J. took on the responsibility of providing for his mother and the siblings that were still at home after his father was killed. He struggled to get the farm chores done and attend school, but the double burden finally took it's toll as he gradually dropped out of school so that more time could be devoted to the farm. So many school drop-outs get tired of school and their disinterest makes them count the days to when they will be old enough to drop out. Dad dropped out, not out of disinterest but out of necessity. According to Grandmother Dickerson (his mother-in-law)Dad was a good student when he could attend. It is evident, in retrospect, that he learned easily and had a healthy respect for education. This chapter is to document his not-so-formal early education which was the basis of his life-long learning.

The building still stands (2011) where Bill started school. No one would guess that the building had experience other than being a barn. The building was built as a church in the late 1800s and became an Odd Fellows Lodge Hall.  The Lodge allowed the Montgomery County Board of Education to use the upstairs room to hold classes. The teacher (Reynolds) was also a Vo Ag teacher and was somewhat of a circuit rider.  He taught at McDonalds Mill and over on the Back Road. Dad attended the first two grades within site of his home place. The meeting hall was across and down the road from the home place and it was later referred to as Stanley Wright's barn.
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The second school W. J. attended was the North Fork School,  about three miles from the Absher home toward Luster's Gate on a property adjacent to Dry Run.  Dry Run is, as the name implies, a stream that runs only in wet weather.  The mostly dry stream bed also served part-time as a road bed in places.  That school building was torn down and Bill Grubb built a house near the site.  He attended this school for three or four grades.  Clarence McPherson.. often drove him to school which started his friendship with Clarence's son, Lloyd, who became his best friend and eventually a brother-in-law.

Luster's Gate was the last school he attended in the valley.  Luster's Gate was a two room school that included grades up to 7th grade.  Graduates of Luster's gate went to the consolidated high school in Blacksburg. This community school was closed in about 1962 and still stands( 2011) but has been remodeled as a house.

Dad carried a vivid memory of his early teachers for most of his long life. Heather Robinson was a teacher that lived with the Absher family for a period while teaching at a valley school.   She was the daughter of Jake Robinson who was a descendent of surveyor Robinson who was commissioned by England to survey the western lands of the Virginia Colony.  Other teachers were Virginia Kambridge,  Dorthy Keister,  Ray Albert, and Bessie Nutter. Bessie Nutter had a reputation of being very strict.


One school story Dad told a lot had to do with his resistance to poison ivy.  Punishment of unruly students was considered the responsibility of the teacher.  It was an unspoken, unwritten authorization from parents.   During one mid winter school day, the teacher deemed a student needed a spanking and sent Bill to get a switch. Dad selected a stem growing next to a fence, one that the cold weather had left naked.  The teacher used the switch for its intended purpose and then discarded it in the pot belly stove that heated the classroom.  The burning poison ivy produced far more pain as smoke than it did as a brittle switch to both teacher and students (except to the resistant William).

Another story Dad told illustrated the friendship between he and Lloyd McPherson. The two pre-teen boys got in a fight on the play ground. Teacher Ray Albert broke them up and sent them in to clean up themselves. After a while the teacher came to check on them and found the boys joking and laughing. They walked home that day as if nothing had happened.

Lloyd McPherson drove the school bus that hauled students from the valley to Blacksburg High School.
Lloyd met Evelyn Dickerson and took his friend, Bill, with him as he called on the Dickerson home.  Evelyn had an older sister, Jean, who soon became Bill's life long love!

Bill had another education outside the classroom doing 4-H club work. He and his friend Lloyd fed steers to be exhibited I'm market beef shows under the supervision of County Extension A gent T. M. Helper. Dad told of the show circuit that took the boys and their animals to shows in Christiansburg, Baltimore, and Chicago. That experience helped give Dad a good respect for education and said if he had been able to have gone on in school, he would have liked to have been a County Agent.

W. J. Absher Chapter 2. A Forged Character

The tragic murder of Bill's dad, no doubt, had a dramatic affect on his early life and helped forge  a strong character.  Bill exemplified integrity, strong work ethic, frugality, and empathy for others, especially with those with great needs.  He didn't have time to be an adolescent; with the sudden loss of the family's bread winner he was thrust into a major role of supporting his widowed mother and the young siblings that were still at home.  Most of the older brothers and sisters had left home to provide for their own young families.   He credits his brother Frazier for "keeping us from starving; he had a good job and would send us a check every few days."

Bill was 10 years old when his dad was killed.  Bill was soon the man of the house.  He felt the responsibility of caring for his mother and doing what he could to keep the subsistence farm producing something that they could eat or sell.

Bill grew up hunting, not as a sportsman but as a provider of food for the meager Absher table.  He always spoke of fried squirrel as a delicacy on the Absher table.  When the garden wasn’t in, cornmeal mush might be all that was on the table besides milk and butter that came from their few cows, unless Bill had shot a rabbit or a squirrel.  Their farm flock of chickens produced an occasional Sunday dinner.

The family looked forward to Thanksgiving,  not so much for the holiday but more since that was generally hog killing time.  Butchering was a community activity.  Hogs were fed to get heavy and fat so that there would be sufficient lard and cured meats to last most of the year.  Dressing hogs as a community activity made a lot of sense, since the hair had to be scalded and scraped off the pork carcasses.  Water was heated over a wood fire, and it took a lot of manpower to handle, scrape and hang the big carcasses.  Most farms had their own smoke houses, so the bellies, hams and shoulders were salted and smoked so they could keep for a long time without refrigeration.

The picture of Wm. Absher on his tombstone at his grave
where his remains were moved to in Blacksburg.

Dad seemed to have a relationship with his dad that differed from that of other brothers and sisters.  The grand kids of William and Dallas heard little of their grandfather.  When cousin J. C. began his efforts to get Wm's  remains moved from it's lonely grave to Blacksburg he got the reaction, "If he couldn't stay at home alive, why should he in death?"  The children who were old enough to know what was going on with Wm's  infidelity were probably hurt, angered, and embarrassed.

 But Bill's reaction was different and after most of the sibs death, Bill contributed to the expense of creating a  new grave in the Blacksburg's cemetery.

Bill's memory of his dad were from those of a boy. Wm. was probably estranged from the older
family so the younger William was with his dad a lot when the senior Absher was at home in the McDonald's Mill Community.  Bill remembered helping his dad build a chicken house, staying with him at one of the two houses on the Absher farm. He remembered his dad as a hard working, smart businessman (with a big character flaw.)   He was comforted by a report of a conversation between his dad and the Bradfords before one of his last trips to Tazewell County.  The Bradfords told that Wm. had said he was " through sowing wild oats."

Young William had to learn from  neighbors how to farm.  Bird Bradford was one of his teachers.  He had a team (or pair) of horses.  I say pair because, even though  they were harnessed together,  they worked differently.  The one named Morgan ( probably his breed too) was a hard worker but his team mate Charley was lazy and mischievous.   Dad loved to tell about the pair pulling a wagon: Morgan would be pulling with his traces tight but Charley would stretch out his neck as if he was pulling hard but the traces would be swinging loosely until an authoritative voice called on him.

Dad told another story about Charley's  mischievousness:  The Bradfords heard a pig squealing incessantly. They found Charley standing next to the hog pen, holding a pig off the ground with the pigs ear in his teeth.  Charley had is eyes shut as if to silence the squealing.

Bill also worked with Clarence Shepherd.  Clarence had a farm over on the back road known as the "Bush Place.". Bill shared work with Clarence and learned some "teamster" lessons as well.  He told of hauling a wagon load of newly harvested corn up over Gallion Ridge- or attempting to.  The horses acted like they were trying but the wagon didn't move.  The horses were apparently trying to convince the young driver that the load was too heavy. But when their owner got hold of the lines and called on them, the wagon seemed to move easily.  Bill was a share cropper with Clarence for one third of what he produced of corn , wheat, barley and buckwheat.

Farming was difficult for the young W. J. , not only for his lack of experience but because of the land he had to farm.  Most of the land was on mountain slopes.  The small amount of bottom land along the North Fork of the Roanoke River was subject to spring flooding.  Creed Absher was Bill's next older brother. Creed and Bill were companions on the farm until Creed got a job in town.  Carl Absher, one of Creed's sons currently owns most of the home place.  He identified a rough hillside patch now grown up with Popular trees as what his father had called Bill's corn patch. One can only imagine the labor required to clear the land and cultivate the hillside corn field for what was probably a meager yield.

The home place sits at the base of a mountain with a narrow river bottom in front of it.

The lessons learned by these early hard times made anything but a hard man.  Surviving his difficult teen years gave W.J. the confidence that he could attempt about anything he wanted to do.  When he built the only home he ever owned he was turned down on his first request for a loan.  He ignored that difficulty and got the loan from another bank( Mr. John Kessler, was president) .  Another example of that calm confidence was that W. J. started his own business at the age of 51 after he had been passed over for jobs ( probably because of his age and formal education level).

Bill Absher grew to be a compassionate man.  While manager of Blacksburg Lumber Company and then owner/manager of his own business he gave several men opportunities to work, some for him and some for people he knew that needed help.  He extended credit and made out-of-pocket small personal loans me that probably couldn't get money anywhere else.

After retiring Bill Absher became deeply involved as a trustee at the Blacksburg United Methodist Church, a member of the Lions Club,  and with the Food Pantry.  He used his skills and heart to help people.  He facilitated many maintenance and improvement projects at the church and did many of them himself.  He headed up the effort at BUMC that replace a non-working furnace at the AME church.  He was a lead recruiter and salesman of light bulbs and brooms for the Lion's club.   He was custodian of a special account for the Interfaith Food Pantry and the account seemed to always have enough in it to fill in with food the Pantry needed.  He was know in the pizza parlors around town.  He took surplus or unclaimed pizzas to neighborhoods where they were needed and appreciated.


3 Let love and faithfulness never leave you;
   bind them around your neck,
   write them on the tablet of your heart.
4 Then you will win favor and a good name 
   in the sight of God and man.

Proverbs 3:3,4

Cousins! Cousins! Everywhere there are cousins!

Cousins, there's nothing quite like cousins!

They are built in friends for life!

They are laughter and tears!

They are smiles and hugs!

Cousins, you just can't beat cousins!

Our Last Three Days

I haven't written anything about my last three days with Grandma, because every time I think about those days, I cry. Not just tears that say, "My heart is breaking because I no longer have my Grandma!" but also tears that say, "I was so lucky to have had a Grandma like her!" But those days were precious days and so I will try my best to share them.

When we first got to Blacksburg - around 9:00 o'clock in the evening, Dad called to tell us to come first to the Grandparent's since everyone was awake! My first thought was that I was amazed that Grandaddy was awake, but he was and so I went in to kiss him on his forehead as I have done for years. And he said with a grin, "I hope you didn't leave any lipstick up there!" Of course, having just been riding or driving for the best part of a day, any lipstick that I might have had on was long gone! I then went to Grandma's room to see her and I kissed her too and told her what Grandaddy had said. She said, "He just likes to show off his kisses!" You can be certain; I was never without lipstick for kissing his head the rest of my visit! She told me, "I am awfully spoiled - I wish my sister were here to see it!" - meaning Evelyn, of course!

Later on while I was standing next to Grandma's bed, Mary was asking about Joshua and Matthew and I told her how big they are. Without missing a beat, Grandma looked up at me and said, "I guess they get their height from you!" That has been her standard line for as long as the boys have been taller than me! And then that was always followed by "And how tall is Craig?" or if he was in the room she ask him "How tall are you?" Craig's height has always fascinated her - I guess because he towers over me by so much! Grandma began to get sleepy so I left her to go to the doll house for the night!

The next morning, I went straight to Grandma's bedside, after leaving bright lip prints on Grandaddy's forehead. I found that sitting in the seat of the walker, made me high enough to hold her hand over the railing of the hospital bed that the McPherson's had moved into her room before she came home from the hospital. Every time I took her hand, she said to me, "You have the hottest little hands." It reminded me of how I used to love to hold her hands while growing up and she would rub them and say, "Your hands are so soft, don't ever let them get wrinkled and spotted like mine." Whenever, I look at my hands these days and see the lines, I think of her telling me that all those years ago.

Daddy had the Beyer's cd playing, but it was too much for me, so I changed it to a cd of hymns. After a little while, Grandma said, "Is that Reggie singing?" I said, "I don't know, does Reggie sing?" And she chuckled, "Not much!" Later on, I started reading to her from a book about Grandparents! As often happens, something I read touched me and I started to cry. She said, "You cry so easily, you're just like your Grandaddy!"

When the home health nurse came to bathe her, I went to the living room to sit with Grandaddy for a while. He was telling World War II stories to a friend from church. I just sat and listened. These were stories I had never heard before and I was fascinated. When he told the story of one of the only two deaths by members in his company, he cried. He is such a caring man that 50+ years have not softened the blow of that loss. Amazing. After the man left, I said, "Grandaddy, I had never heard those stories before!" And he said, "Mindy, when I came back from the war, I didn't talk much about what happened. Not because I was ashamed of anything, but because this is my home and I didn't want to bring that war into it." I asked, "What is different now?" And he said, choking on tears, "There aren't many of us left!"

Later on I pulled out my computer to see if the internet signal from Dad's house would reach theirs. Amazingly it did, and so Grandaddy Skyped with Beth. I thought it was so cute when after talking to "Beffy" for a while, he asked if Jonathan was home. Beth said he was and ran up the stairs to find him. Grandaddy said, "Well there she goes!" Jonathan said "Hi Greatdaddy, I love you!" and that was the end of that!

Pastor Reggie came for communion and Grandaddy, Barbara Jean, Daddy and I all gathered around her bed to share it with her. When he was getting ready to leave, he said to Grandma, "I love you!" and she responded, "And, I love people." He said, "No, that's not the response I was looking for, let's try that again. I love you." She responded with a bit of that old twinkle in her eye, "I like you an awful lot." He shook his head and said, 'No, still not right. I LOVE YOU!" To which she said, "And I love you, but I wouldn't want anyone to know it!"

Grandma had several visitors and she was so alert most of that day! Grandaddy also was so well that day. Margaret, Leroy and Lee came to spend some time with her and that was special for her and she really seemed to rally. After going back to the doll house that evening, I called Craig and told him that Grandaddy was the best I had seen him in three years!

The next morning, I followed the pattern of planting a kiss and then going to Grandma's bedside. That day Daddy had Andy Griffin's CD of hymns playing and it seems to be restful for Grandma, so I left it on. I would rub her hands and she drifted in and out of sleep. Every time she nodded off, I would watch her chest to see the rise and fall, it was comforting to me. Sometimes, I would sing or hum quietly along with Andy. She opened her eyes and I told her I was sorry, I didn't mean to wake her. She said, "I wasn't asleep!" (How many times has she said to us over the years, "I'm not asleep, I heard every word!") I said I hoped my singing didn't disturb her since I don't have the best voice, and she said, "That doesn't stop other people from singing, don't let it stop you!"

Later in the morning, I pulled out my computer and got enough signal to pull up Dad's blog. I read to her - the stories that Dad had written about Grandaddy and her. - the story Beth wrote about Grandaddy. - And the stories Anita and I wrote about Mom. Through most of these, I read through tears and sometimes I had to stop to sob. At one point, she said "Your Mom died too young." And I said, "She did Grandma, but she knew you were here to take care of us." She patted my hand and said, "I think you all are big enough to take care of yourselves, now." And so I sobbed some more.

I spent a lot of time talking to her that day, telling her things that I remembered doing with her or for her that were special to me! I talked and she mostly just smiled or patted my hand, sometimes she would have a little response but nothing very lengthy. I talked about how she and I had gotten up at 3:00 am to watch the Royal Wedding. She said, "Why did we get up so early?" and I said, "Because they got married in England and with the time difference we had to get up that early to see it." She replied, "Well, that wasn't very considerate of them!"

Evelyn came to see her and said, "I tell Jean she is so spoiled!" and Grandma said, "And she is right! But I love it!' Evelyn only stayed a short while; she said "I just came to look at her!" I thought that was so sweet!

Sometime that day, Kaye and I were the only ones at the house - Kaye was in Grandma's recliner, sleeping and Grandaddy was sleeping in his. Hearing light snoring coming from the living room, Grandma asked who was at the house. I told her and she said, "Where's Kaye?' and I said, "In there sleeping with Grandaddy." And without missing a beat she said, "Don't tell your Daddy!" I laughed and laughed.

Grandma slept more this day and when she wasn't sleeping she was uncomfortable, not that she complained, she was just fidgety so we would move her pillows or her legs and rub lotion on her skin or sometimes I would just rub her back. She always said, "Now that feels better." Even though I am not sure it did, I think she wanted us to feel like we were easing her discomfort in some small measure. That was just her way.

Throughout my time there, Grandaddy would come in for short little visits or stick his head in the door on the way to or from the bathroom. Whenever I would know he was coming, I would say, "Grandma, your boyfriend is coming to visit!" and she would say, "Well comb my hair" or "Straighten my gown" or some other such preparation. They were always so gentle with each other, Grandaddy always checked her hands whenever he came in and would comment on how cold or warm they were. One time he came in and Janice was standing by the bed feeding ice chips and she said, "Sir Bill, I will move out of the way so you can come talk to your lady." When Grandaddy got to Grandma's side he said, "I don't know what she wanted me to talk about, I just came to say I love you!" Yes, I teared up yet again!

On the morning before I left, I spent a couple more hours with Grandma. I knew this would be my last visit with my grandmother, whose life has had such a profound effect on mine. I didn't want to leave but knew I must. She said, "Thanks for being such a good granddaughter." and I said, "Well, thanks for being my grandma!" "I didn't have any say about that." she replied. "Thanks for being a good grandma!" I answered and she said, "Yes, I had something to do with that!" After I told her I loved her and she had responded appropriately (I didn't even have to coax it out of her like Pastor Reggie!) I was standing at the foot of her bed and said, "I'm leaving Grandma, I love you!" and the last thing she said to me was, "Don't speed!" Yes, my Grandma knew me! "And, that's the truth!"

William Jessie Absher's special 90th Birthday gift.

Our Dad, Bill Absher, turned 90 on Wednesday 9/29/2010.  Many friends and family let him know how special  his life has been.  I think I know Dad pretty well and I'm sure he did what he thought was right to do and not actions that would bring him praise.  However, Dad, like everyone else, appreciates it when people remember that he did something that made a difference in people's lives.
We were reminded of something that Dad was a part of several years ago by a friend, Pat Berger, who came by the house to wish Dad a Happy Birthday by singing to him.  And then she reminded him of a special memory she held dear.


Pat is an African-American soloist that is often asked to sing at Christian functions around Blacksburg. The time she told us about was several years ago when she had been asked to sing at an Easter Sunrise Service.  The weather was not fit for an outside service, due either to rain or snow.  Thus it was held at the Blacksburg United Methodist Church.  Dad was very active in the BUMC at the time and as he thanked her for singing he followed with a request that at any time her church needed anything to let him know.  She said she just felt like the Lord was talking to her since they had just learned that the furnace had gone out at her historically segregated church.  She shared that with Dad and before long they had heat.  I remember something about him organizing support from BUMC for this project.


I'm sure there are many more stories of how Dad was a part of  meaningful projects.
He led from the side!
I'm always reminded of the phone call Mom made to the church office.  She told the secretary that she had a few jobs at home that she wanted to add to Bill Absher's list.