I imagine someone like Hillary Clinton has circles ad infinitum. The people she meets as Secretary of State are world wide. Yet, I feel certain that in her inner most circle she has some friends that go back to her childhood. Friends that she feels so trustworthy she could share anything with them. These are the friends she would feel most comfortable with and with whom she has shared her deepest thoughts and dreams.
I feel sure that you have such a history with old friends. I do, and I want to tell about one such lady. Her name is Marian Weiler Maxwell. She was born on the fourth of July in a small town in southeastern Kentucky. I first met her when I was a new resident in this town, Harlan, Kentucky. Not only did I know her from school, but also from the First Presbyterian church on Clover street. Her mother was the organist at our church. She was the quintessential southern lady, beautiful, reserved, quietly moving about in queenly fashion, elegant in every way. Being in her presence made you want to slow down, calm down and be the best you could be.
On that fourth of July in 1926 she gave birth to a real fire cracker! Marian used to say that fire crackers were set off under her bed and that was her entry into the world. She was her own person and early on excelled in the area of music. I used to sit and watch her play the piano and yearned to be able to do that too. However, we did enjoy other things together, starting with our nursery at church where my mother was the superintendent of the early childhood group. Regretfully, I do not remember much about that. My memories are of later times, like playing bob jacks on the sidewalk in front of my house, and playing in the neighborhood, and good times with our mutual friends.
In those days we were free to put on roller skates and use the streets and sidewalks as our personal skating arenas. We also made good use of another from of transportation, bike riding. On many occasions we pedaled our bikes outside of town and out to a neighboring mining camp called Tways. Once there we went into the big store and bought a cold drink of our choice. I always chose chocolate milk and I do not remember what Marian preferred. We would not be allowed to do that in today's world, but in a small town where everyone knew your family it was considered a safe thing to do.
Somewhere in my old photographs is a picture of us at Girl Scout Camp, Camp O' Cumberland, around 1936. We swam, hiked trails and often went up to a big rock which overlooked the main road along the Cumberland river. We had a lot of freedom to explore during those years. One photo I cannot find, shows Marian climbing under a barbed wire fence with her skirt caught on the fence. She is looking up and grinning at me. She was adventurous and full of fun.
In high school she was involved with the band but I was not. In our family there was no extra money for music lessons so that was one thing we did not share. We did share the disappointment of not being able to finish high school in our high school building, as it caught on fire. So, we finished the school year at the big Baptist church on Mound Street. After high school we went in different directions, and to different schools. We would connect at times when we both were in town at the same time; and I was there for her wedding to Howard Maxwell, a tall handsome man of music.
Over the years we kept in touch sporadically but that friendship stayed intact. We both were busy raising our families, she in Kentucky, me in Maryland. When I did receive a letter from her I knew to expect her classic sign off, "Me".
She came to Georgia when the Olympics were in Atlanta, but I did not get to visit then. I knew she was still involved with music, playing her portable organ at horse shows and other events. She planned to visit with me here in my home a few years ago and I was so looking forward to that reunion. Alas, it never came about. As she was driving through Lexington going south on I-75 she stopped for coffee at a roadside venue. It was a windy day and her hat flew off. She ran to catch it and fell, breaking her hip. She spent a long time recovering from that awful fall. So, we never got to have that reunion.
I know that we will always be friends of the inner circle. I have a picture to prove it. It is of her, in our last year in high school. She signed it forever love, to Rosie, "Me". Look closely at her face. You can see the mischief behind her eyes and in her smile. That is how I remember her and always will. She is quite ill now and receiving loving care under the watchful eye of her daughter, Beverly. I feel sure she is still finding ways to express her music and greeting everyone with a smile and a twinkle in her eyes.
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