That's the story of life, isn't it? On our way south to attend our granddaughter Jessi's graduation ( both a beginning and an ending), we stopped to visit our old neighbor Lon Burr, now living in southern Missouri. Last weekend, Lon lost his wonderful wife, Lynn. We were neighbors on Calhoun Street for 27 years.
Calhoun Street, as all the kids who grew up there will tell you, was a very special space. Our property backed up to the park and swimming pool, as did most of the houses on that side of the street. It seemed like there was a predominance of boys in the families and at any given time, a pick up football, basketball, or baseball game--whatever was in season-- could be found along the street. All the kids knew that in an emergency, they could get help from any adult along the street.
Lon and Lynn had a remodeled what had been an old farmhouse. Lon is a wonderful woodworker and at one point screened in their large patio. Invariably on a summer night, Lynn and Georgia, music and piano teacher who lived across the street, would be out there playing cards, recovering a sofa, or launching some other project that most of us just think about.
Lynn was an excellent seamstress and besides sewing for herself and family, she also whipped up show choir outfits, costumes, wedding apparel, and prom dresses for others. Lon's garage was huge, with every tool known to man and one bay had a higher than normal door. Homecoming week, that garage became float building central. Because Lynn's favorite childhood stage was the teenage years. Seriously. We all threatened to send ours to her and she just laughed that inimitable laugh and said "Bring 'em on. Ya know?"
She is sorely missed. But I'm pretty sure she and Georgia have found a pleasant screened porch somewhere with a few bugs hovering around a yellow light and a deck of cards.
Calhoun Street, as all the kids who grew up there will tell you, was a very special space. Our property backed up to the park and swimming pool, as did most of the houses on that side of the street. It seemed like there was a predominance of boys in the families and at any given time, a pick up football, basketball, or baseball game--whatever was in season-- could be found along the street. All the kids knew that in an emergency, they could get help from any adult along the street.
Lon and Lynn had a remodeled what had been an old farmhouse. Lon is a wonderful woodworker and at one point screened in their large patio. Invariably on a summer night, Lynn and Georgia, music and piano teacher who lived across the street, would be out there playing cards, recovering a sofa, or launching some other project that most of us just think about.
Lynn was an excellent seamstress and besides sewing for herself and family, she also whipped up show choir outfits, costumes, wedding apparel, and prom dresses for others. Lon's garage was huge, with every tool known to man and one bay had a higher than normal door. Homecoming week, that garage became float building central. Because Lynn's favorite childhood stage was the teenage years. Seriously. We all threatened to send ours to her and she just laughed that inimitable laugh and said "Bring 'em on. Ya know?"
She is sorely missed. But I'm pretty sure she and Georgia have found a pleasant screened porch somewhere with a few bugs hovering around a yellow light and a deck of cards.
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