Memories of Dad at Christmas Time~

Dad was such a fun, unique personality.

We went to Mexico in the summer of 2002 and stayed at a resort in Playa Del Carmen, a sleepy little town that lies just south of Cancun. We explored the “Avenue Cinco” in Playa and Dad was just elated to be there. He marveled at the ingenuity of the Mexican architecture, even down to the pedestal beds at the resort. He ventured out ahead of us, each morning before daylight, eager to see what he could see.

He was always so fun to be around because he welcomed each new happening in life as an exciting new door to open. I saw the place anew through his enthusiasm and joy, simply being there was joy to him.

I wish that enthusiasm for life for everyone, to greet the morning sun with an anticipating smile, with the wonderful prospect that the day holds, stretched out before us, like a dazzling gem. Each day is a new page to turn, a new chapter to begin. That next day begins the rest of our lives. God gives us this gift every morning. A new food to try, a new experience, like jumping off a ledge into a ceynote without a thought....Dad was really into life and never failed to try new things. Even eating cactus, pan grilled..grin.

When the time came, Dad was not ready to let life go.

I guess none of us are. He loved living. We all have a time allotted for us to be here on earth, and I suppose that God in his wisdom decided that Dad’s time had passed. We do not know how many days we are destined to live, this very day may be our last. We must remember this and live each moment as if it were the very last.

No regrets.

Dad whispered to me in his final moments. I hear it sometimes, when I am just about to fall asleep. I hear that whisper when I am sitting at my desk at work. When I am miles away in thought, working on something, that small whisper will somehow find me.

He said,“ I don't know how much longer I can do this”.

He was clinging to life, desperately hanging on with all his might. He did not want to let go. He did not want to leave us, despite the pain. That invisible thread that holds us here on this earth..once it slips from our grasp we slip over to the other side, and we are gone. Dad had a hold on that string, holding tight.

He was not quite ready to let go of his grasp. That haunts my heart and I guess it always will. Struggling as he was, he still did not want to leave us all. That was pure strength. Strength of Heart. Strength of Spirit. Strength of Faith.

Dad was always taking care of those that needed taking care of. He bathed my Mom's father near the end of his life, when dementia had it's ugly grip on the man. Dad did above and beyond what many son-in-law's would have done. He simply saw the need and stepped up to the plate. He extended that same selfless kindness to countless others. Breakfast to an elderly man that lived alone. A flowery apron brought to an older lady that had very little that was "pretty". Age did not matter to Dad, neither did the color of the person's skin, or how much they possessed in this life. If there was a need for a 'hand', there was Dad to extend it.

Steve was not an openly religious man, not one that attended church services regularly, but he was of God. God's love showed through him, without a doubt.

Sometimes rough around the edges, but the heart was made of gold.

Godspeed toward the place where all happy, blessed souls in Heaven gather at Christmastime.

May Angels Surround You In Heaven, Dad.

I miss you.

Scenes of Christmas in NC ~ Daniel Stowe Botanical Garden, Belmont, NC

Daniel Stowe Botanical Garden in Belmont, North Carolina

(Click on the pictures, to get larger, better ones!)





Christmas Tree of Orchids



Tell Santa What You Want



Wall of Orchids





A Flash of Purple



Lighted Walkway



Mossy Orchids



Horse Drawn Carriage Rides to see the Lighted Gardens

Angel Of Maupin Row ~ Reecie Arrowood

Reecie Arrowood


The Angel of Maupin Row
By Eddie Le Sueur
Contributor
Printed in the Johnson City Press


Reecie Tipton was only 18 when she fell in love with Theodore Roosevelt Arrowood.
She was so impressed with the young Brethren Church circuit preacher that she married him, leaving her Limestone Cove home for a life of service to others.
Though the Arrowoods had seven children — Mary, Teddy, Betty Lou, Joseph, Henry, Nancy and Brenda — they did not depend on the five churches he served in Western North Carolina and East Tennessee for their living.
Brenda remembers waking up to her mother singing in the kitchen as she made her husband’s breakfast each morning in time for him to get to his full-time jobs at Southern Maid (Foremost) Dairy and Tri-Cities Beverages in Johnson City.
While Theodore was away preaching, Reecie started taking their young children to services at the Salvation Army. Theodore would join them on Wednesday nights when he was home and, before long, he “fell in love with the organization,” Henry said.
According to Henry, the Salvation Army held a tent revival that lasted a lot longer than they planned and Theodore was one of the preachers brought in to keep things going.

That revival led to the establishment of the outpost in the Johnson City community known as Maupin Row. Theodore gave up preaching on the circuit and he and Reecie joined the Salvation Army and started serving the many families in that area.
Brenda, their youngest daughter, remembers her parents as strict but with lots of “love and happiness."

“Momma was the fourth of eight children and had a humble beginning. They grew up in Limestone Cove in Unicoi County. She quit school when she was 13 and got a job in a laundry to help out her family."
“Momma loved all the people that attended the church. They were a part of our family and momma always treated them like her children. She would scold them when they needed it and love them no matter what.”

Brenda was a member of her mother’s nursery class and recalls her always having a “flannel board” to which she would affix the pictures of biblical figures and events. “All the children would sit in our child-size chairs around the small tables and listen to every word. We got to eat buttered toast while we listened.
“That was probably why we were so quiet, our mouths were full. Momma was involved in the Home League (the women’s program), Sunbeams and Girl Guards” (groups similar to Brownies and Girl Scouts). Reecie taught the girls how to make a bed and properly set a table, among other things.

“Whenever and wherever momma was needed, she was there. If someone in the church was sick and needed help, she and a group of the women of the Home League would go and see what needed to be done, whether it was cleaning or bringing food.
“Momma would also look out for neighbors too. Many times she sent food to an elderly couple that lived behind us.”

The Arrowoods lived on the end of Lamont Street nearest downtown and the bus station. The Veterans Administration was at the other end of the street.
Brenda said many World War II veterans would get off the bus downtown and walk up the street on their way to Mountain Home.

“They would knock on our door asking for something to eat. Momma would always fix them a sandwich. Apparently word of her generosity spread because more and more people came by. She always took care of them.”

Betty recalls, “We went to church on Sunday and I was always bringing someone home with me. Mom said, ‘Bring them on over... we’ll put another tater in the pot.’ ”
“We had a sign in our home, ‘The Lord Will Provide.’ Momma lived by that sign,” Brenda said.

“We were not a wealthy family but we were blessed,” Betty said. “Some of the best memories I have are waking up to mom singing while she was preparing my dad’s breakfast.”

The Salvation Army salary barely covered the Arrowood’s out-of-pocket expenses so Theodore kept working regular jobs to provide for his family.

“He had to be at work for the dairy company at 4 or 5 a.m. so she was up fixing his breakfast. I honestly don’t see how she did all the things she did.

“We were not allowed to go to the movies because they were of the world.
“Finally, when I was 11, my aunt talked my mother into letting me go. It was ‘Gone With The Wind.’ I was so excited I could hardly contain myself,” Betty said.

“I am thankful for the Christian upbringing by my momma and daddy. That foundation has kept me solid. In these difficult times, if my momma was still alive, she would say, ‘Praise the Lord anyhow!’ ” Brenda said.

Betty again echoes her sister’s heartfelt sentiments.

“We had a good life because of the way that we were raised. None of my brothers and sisters ever got in trouble — not in bad trouble, anyway, except with mom and dad.
“Today, even though my children are grown and I have four grandchildren, my desire is to be the kind of mother, grandmother, witness and friend that earned my mom the title of ‘angel,’ ” Betty said.

Before retiring, Reecie became a full major. Her title “angel” became eternal when she rejoined Theodore in 2003. She was 91.

Though the old Maupin Row outpost no longer exists, it remains vivid in the memories of thousands of people who were helped there.

So too is the memory of the kind faces of the pair who made it happen.

“Theirs was a partnership in Christian service,” Henry said. “They epitomized servanthood.”

A Preacher Man named Theodore ~

Theodore Arrowood

By Eddie Le Sueur
Contributor
newsroom@johnsoncitypress.com


Theodore Roosevelt Arrowood climbed the steps to the podium.
He stood, motionless and silent before the throng. Those preceding him had exhibited their talent for song, dance and country music, and now it was his turn.

He grasped the makeshift podium as the bespectacled announcer exclaimed, “And now, ladies and gentlemen, Theodore Arrowood will preach for us.”

The orator took a deep breath. “My b-b-beloved brethren,” he stuttered to a start. “I am a unlarnt, hard-shell Baptist preacher, of whom you’ve no doubt hearn afore, and I now appear here to expound the Scripters and point out the narrow way which leads from a vain world to the streets of Jaroolsalem.”

The crowd roared to laughter and applause for the 12-year-old speaker, their fellow student from the Poplar Station community of Mitchell County, N.C.

Theodore was following in the footsteps of his beloved father, Sam. He had watched and listened, and rehearsed his recitation for over a month, according to his own son, Henry, who recounted the story of Theodore’s bravest moment nearly a century before.

“He thought he was ready, but when all those eyes focused on him, he was scared,” Henry said. “The fear of making a fool of himself and embarrassing his father was excruciating.”

When Theodore reached the end of his sermon, the audience sprang to its feet, clapping and whistling.
“Little Theodore” was a hit. But they had no idea where his newfound courage would lead.

Though he might have been scared when he started, Theodore became comfortable behind the podium. In time, his voice would ring out to believers, and the depth of his commitment to them, and the needy, would be difficult to measure by modern standards.

Theodore was ordained as a Brethren Church minister in 1936 and preached a circuit of five churches — plus a sixth on that hard-to-cover fifth Sunday — in Western North Carolina and East Tennessee for the next two decades.

He did not depend on the churches for his livelihood. Instead he also worked full-time jobs at Southern Maid (Foremost) Dairy and Tri-Cities Beverages in Johnson City.

The path of his preaching led him to Reecie Tipton, one of eight children from a family in Limestone Cove, and they were married when she was 18. The Arrowoods had seven children — Mary, Teddy, Betty Lou, Joseph, Henry, Nancy and Brenda.

In the early years, Reecie would pack up their children on Saturday and travel with him to wherever he was preaching. Over time, that became too hard to do and she reluctantly let him “go it on his own,” Henry said.

Theodore and Reecie found another calling, almost by accident.

Reecie began taking their children to church at the Salvation Army while Theodore was away.

Soon he joined them on Wednesday nights, and before long “fell in love with the organization,” Henry said.

“It started with a tent revival that was supposed to last one week, but the crowds kept growing night after night. Because it lasted so long, other preachers were brought in to keep things going. Daddy was one of them.

“A Mr. Range, who was a prominent community leader and philanthropist, was impressed with dad’s ability to ‘speak the people’s language.’ ”

Range saw the need and gave the money to build the outpost in the middle of the Johnson City community known as Maupin Row. Theodore gave up his churches and was commissioned as Corps Sergeant Major, the chief lay officer, and Reecie’s dream was fulfilled when she and her husband commenced their new ministry.

For the next quarter-century, they served the Salvation Army. Theodore became a fixture in the community, especially during the holidays, when he rang the familiar Salvation Army bell, raising money for those in need.

Theodore continued to serve even to his later years, when health problems made it difficult for him to stand. He became a legend as the top collector of charity for the Salvation Army drive and participated in his final one less than a month before he was “promoted to Glory” in December 1994.


****************************************************
Theodore Arrowood was the son of Samuel Arrowood,Jr.


Samuel Jr. was the son of Samuel Arrowood, our 2nd Great grandfather.

Samuel Jr. was a brother to our Welzia.

Winter Settles Into the Bones

Winter is finally settling into the bones of the earth.

Earth has started to pull her woolen sweater closer around herself, and bow to face the harsh cold winds.

The ground has browned over and the leaves are scattered and dry, floating into the wind, plastering themselves haplessly, against fence posts.

The air takes on a new smell this time of year.

Gone is the sweet hay dried smell from the fields and the sweet apple-like smell from the air. It is replaced with a sharp smell that is hard to describe. The smell of artic air. Cold and metallic.

The cold winds blow over the fields that were green until the very last moment. Autumn is slow to leave in the Carolinas. It hangs on and acts as if it is never leaving. Then with a swoosh and a flurry, it is gone. Winter arrives without much announcement.

The trees, left bare boned, seem almost sad.
Limbs drooping at the prospect of bracing for another brutal assault of ice.

We tend to have more ice storms here, than actual snow. Whatever starts out as snow, high above, will melt and refreeze as it falls, leaving us with the ice. Downed tree limbs and power outages.

Winter takes me back in time to cold days spent with my grandparents. Days before school and holiday days off. The heater was slightly smelly and heated the front room to such a degree that clothes were optional on my young self. My grandparents still bundled up around it, the old bones still very much feeling the cold.

I would come in and head for the heater. I would place my mitten’d hands on it’s warm side. The glow from the heater dancing a red- orange tint on the still dimly lit front room. I can still see Grandma sitting in her rocker by the heater. No socks. Socks were a rare thing for Grandma, much less shoes. She was a free soul. She preferred the feel of the earth beneath her. She wore no shoes for most of the year. Unless she was headed out to town or church, then, on those occasions she would don high heels. She wore snazzy shoes. Always snazzy high fashion shoes, she loved them!

Never the sensible brogans of an older lady, that was simply not her.

The smell of coffee brewing with a chill in the air, takes me to that winter time at grandma and grandpa’s house. The outer rooms of the house were shut off from the main area, and not heated.

The warmer area around that heater and the front room was where everyone gathered. The central gathering place during the holidays.

Christmas at Grandma’s was magic. Magic in it’s purest form.



From the maraschino cherries floating in the red punch to the golden metallic leaves adorning the chocolate cake.

There were glowing Christmas lights in the front picture window, beckoning all to enter in.




There was pure Christmas magic in that house.



It wasn’t about the gifts. We all got something wrapped under the tree, but it was about more, much more, than presents.

It was the magic of love. Pure love flowed through that house. We were all together. We were a family. It was Christmas time. Time to celebrate and gather. Time to be together. All of us.


It just doesn’t get more magical that that.


With all the children, the grandchildren, the friend’s and others that came, we had over 40 each year in that house. With the passing of my grandmother, that magic just never was there again. Grandpa followed soon after losing grandma. An era was over. But the magic will never be forgotten by those that lived it.

Merry Christmas everyone.