SCENE IN PASSING
MARIE WHITEHEAD herald@mediactr.com
Every day has a multitude of emotions, good and bad. They are normal and natural feelings, felt by all who live long enough to bump into them. This week has been a season for the "lows." When sad events happen, we simply react as we were created to do.

The passing of James P. Richards, was sudden it seemed, and yet not. He had been plagued by ill health in recent years, but he never appeared to let it get him down. Therefore, we looked on him as an unmovable rock, expecting him to live long. But time took its toll.

It has been our privilege to share all that is life in the community of Rusk with James and Genelle, our friends. Their children traveled the road to higher education with ours. We found common denominators in many areas.

Our families were two working men with working wives. It was an interesting parallel. Although totally different paths, they became the same as we walked through our personal valleys of darkness in the loss of family members.

These experiences help us to become more human. In 1972, after the votes were in and we knew the Better Half would be headed for Austin, we began discussing his thoughts and plans for potential projects. Specifically, he knew that he wanted to resuscitate the dream of our chamber manager, Leon I. Edwards. Two or three years earlier, Rusk had seen Mr. Edwards' dream to reactivate the TSR "die a'bornin," as it was said about the ghost town, New Birmingham. To my spouse, it was an idea worthy of consideration. That's a long story. To cut it short, you know now that it happened. And since its official birth in 1976, together we have listened recently to the growing rumble of wheels falling off.The news of funds being withheld in Austin by elected state officials saddens and sickens me to the depths of my being. It is my fear that the train has become a very large target in a personal, political vendetta. Maybe not. I would rather hear a logical explanation.

Today's turn of events for me can be best presented with James P. Richards as a principal player on life's stage. I don't think that I have ever written about those pre-Austin days before.

As I recall, sitting at our kitchen table one night, we talked for several hours before reaching a decision on who we thought would bring the most to the table as a member of the Park Board of Managers.

We fine tuned, looking at our friends through an imaginary microscope. Each person presented to the Rusk City Council for apalong proval had special talent. It was through this variety of abilities and knowledge that we succeeded in reaching our goal.

It was a "blue ribbon" panel. In its organization, the nine who were appointed were the persons who elected officers among themselves. James was recognized as a person who understood money management. Logically, he was named treasurer and continued in that capacity until mid-'77 when it appeared our mission had been completed.

Other positions filled were Gene Kelley, chairman; Johnny McKay, vice president; Mr. Richards, treasurer; Marie Whitehead, secretary; Gene Gregg Meyers; Mary Buchanan; Henry Guenzel, Frank Summers and W. D. (Bill) Draper. After moving to Hearne, Mr. Guenzel was replaced by the council's appointment of J. W. Carter. That's a total of 10.

With Mr. Carter's recent death, and now Mr. Richards, there are only four board members remaining: Mr. Kelley, Mr. McKay, Mr. Draper and your writer. This fact alone is saddening enough. But coupled with failure of our state to provide the promised funds, well, it makes it pepto-time. But it also makes me absolutely sure that the right course of action was pursued when we negotiated with American Heritage. When our government lets us down, what is our recourse?

All of this on top of the traditional and cherished Texas-OU weekend, the birthdays of Himself and his good friend Bob Gregg, well, it makes me want to cry. But I can be quietly grateful for the event achieved six years ago when we unveiled the historical marker in front of our building.

Now that I understand grief a little bit better, I am eager to tell others, "It's okay to cry but not all the time. Stop and remember all the moments of great joy, love and laughter."

It is possible that grief comes because we need to know it. Then we are able to share our story with others, assuring them that there really is "life after death."

I thank our Creator for all of you, and for giving me the ability to recall earlier, trying times. Be patient with the current trying times. We will see a happy ending. Keep smiling.