They (whoever They are) quickly proclaim writers using someone else’s opening words dim-witted dolts, unfit for newspaper writing beyond typing obituaries.
Regardless, don’t forget to remember these words from, among others, Michael Pritchard:
“No matter how rich you become, how famous or powerful, when you die, the size of your funeral will still pretty much depend on the weather.”
More on that shortly.
Today’s saga began on that “Day of Infamy” when heinous Japanese Empire pilots attacked Pearl Harbor, Dec. 7, 1941, prompting 21-year-old Michigander Dick Adams to join the U.S. Army Air Corps shortly thereafter.
Eventually, Daddy was shipped to Napier Field Army Air Force Training Center where, besides marrying a civilian Midland City lass working there, he was befriended by Enterprise’s Wilbur Warren.
Daddy and Mr. Wilbur remained great friends beyond Daddy’s Veterans’ Day 1988 death.
Mr. Wilbur’s family owned Enterprise Oil Co., a business licensed the same year, 1919, the Boll Weevil Monument and City School were dedicated.
Other Warren family members owned the Chevrolet dealership, Peacock-Warren Motor Co., where after Mr. Wilbur’s help, Daddy began work in the parts department in early January 1946.
With a shortage of apartments here, Mother remained in Midland City while Daddy did his sleeping, about a month, in Guessna and Lell (Warren) Harrell’s home until a furnished apartment in the Edmonds’ home, corner East Grubbs and South Edwards streets, became available.
Some three years later, after having established the House of Adams at 123 Dothan Road, our family was completed when, after escaping Dothan’s Moody Hospital, your scribe quartered there, often swaddled in a blue blanket, from Wilbur and Rose Warren.
Growing up attending First Methodist Church initially put your scribe in the Sunday school nursery department with four classmates and life-long Warren family friends: Mary Cannon, Burns Whittaker, A. A. Shaw and Ty Warren.
In 1955, another Warren cousin, Sally Grimes Pasley, a Baptist, appeared at brand-new Gingerbread House Kindergarten’s door, where she, Mary and your scribe launched our formal education.
Sally and your scribe shared the same City School classrooms, grades 1-5, except for second grade when Sally was demoted to the “H-M” class while her aunt, Jean Warren Kling, taught us “A-G’s.”
Reunited in third grade, Sally stayed with us in fourth grade, despite our teacher being of Warren blood, and after fifth grade together, we moved to Enterprise Junior High School for sixth grade.
In seventh grade, Edna Warren and Mary, who’d attended Hillcrest Elementary, joined the rest of Enterprise High School’s 1968 class at EJHS, making six Warrens among us.
Growing up and living here always has been made infinitely better by Warren family members (try 40+), hither and yon, who, for decades now, have tolerated your grateful scribe; Billy Warren, for example, taught us in Sunday School.
Sally’s oldest sister, Jean Grimes Bowline, a late WWII baby, was especially important in the HoA, starting in the mid-1970s for several years, when we became much more than good friends in a relationship that eventually left us good friends.
Somewhat fittingly, Jean died Independence Day; her memorial service was held recently in Dothan.
Weather wasn’t a consideration.
Neither were riches nor fame nor power.
Warrens put little stock in such.
The church was packed with Warrens and others they’ve befriended since WWII started.