Pamela's Girls: Some Surprising Things About Pamela

For so much of my life Pamela was “Mommy” and then at some point, a more dignified “Mother”… And I knew her with that blind trust and love that many children have. She was always there – ready to help, generous with her true servant’s heart and making a house warm with her loving presence.

I love to think of her voice ringing out through the house with such helpful hints as:

“Don’t forget your tam!” (a plea for me to cover my head with a little knit cap as I walked out the door on a winter’s afternoon.)

“Now don’t go ‘fanning’ around the house!” (I got this stern warning when I had been sick and needed to stay covered up in bed.)

“Oh no! The peas are boiling over – somebody check them!” (an oft-heard phrase/plea on Thanksgiving morning).

Sometimes when I am talking with CiCi on the phone – I suddenly hear Pamela’s voice in my sister’s and I love that. I wonder if she ever hears Pamela’s in mine – although it seems unlikely with my years spent in the gradual adoption of a Tennessee twang.

As I grew into adulthood I began to see Pamela with different eyes. I grew to understand her hopes and dreams – the ones that carried her through her difficult teenaged years when family-life wasn’t always easy and money not so plentiful but when a soft glamour found it’s way to a young girl’s eyes through elegant Hollywood icons and ideals that were innocent with bright pre-WWII hope.

I have come to realize in older years what a sacrifice it was for her to send me far away to Tennessee to follow my own dreams - but she did so without complaining and without letting me know that coming home to an empty, dark house to spend the evening alone after a long day at work might be sad for her. She always showed excitement at every detail that I had to tell her of my college life and adventures.

But - here area few of the surprising things:

When invited by a record producer to visit the control room of the studio where I worked while the Allman Brothers were recording an album (on one of the rare afternoons that they chose to work instead of the middle of the night), she disappeared into their dark musical world while I sat at my desk and typewriter with unabashed wonder at when she might come back to spend time with ME?

After watching her prime time object of admiration, James Garner, munch tacos from a beach taco stand for several seasons – she asked to try one while shopping with me on a Nashville visit. I think that there was a secret foodie in there wanting to explore, but the territory was a bit too bleak in SC at that time.

After admiring the satin “roadie jacket” that I had been given at work, she accepted my offer to keep it and wear it between the time that I was home for Thanksgiving and returned for Christmas. Now the thing that you need to understand is that this jacket had our studio logo on the back. Most of the time I managed to forget what that logo was – you know, selective inattention… But it was a small country boy, facing away toward a little pond with overalls and a small hat… On first glance you might think that the dotted line arcing away from him and into the pool below might be a fishing line… but they were actually… well… this little fellow didn’t have a bathroom close there on the bank…

She was fun to have around and I miss our conversations immensely. But I am a wealthy person, thanks to Pamela. Not in the monetary way – but in the ways that really count: love of the Lord, deep and clear affection for family, laughter, an honorable way of living your life and sense of place and the Southern roots that made our lives memorable.