“It’s a long, long way from May to September, but the days grow short when you reach September.” — 1938, Kurt Wells/Maxwell Anderson Summer in childhood is a magical time. School ends in early June. You race out to rid yourself of shoes, and the long summer of freedom, fun and play stretches before you. Then, September sneaks up and you are back wearing shoes and lining up to go into a classroom. Youth plays that same trick on us. Like the refrain “the days grow short,” we ask, “Where did the time go?”
My mother’s birthday was September 6. My daughter was born on September 5. Each year, I think of what a grand birthday gift if my mother had lived for the birth of her only granddaughter. If Inez McIntyre Proctor were living today, she would be 106-years-old. She would be thinking, “Where did the time go?”
Her untimely death was a hard-to-believe shock to me and most of Swainsboro. She had been a fixture on the square since the day she came to town as bride of my father. She was a homemaker but also enjoyed her careers. Her working days were from the health department with Mrs. Emma Marshburn to the post office during the war years and long service at The Forest-Blade.
She did not know the joy of grandchildren, and they did not receive the treasure of knowing her. She did get to meet and love that boy from Arkansas.
In the span of time since her death, the world has been busy and changed. She never saw a man walk on the moon. How surprised she must be to know that simple onions from her birthplace of Vidalia are now famous. Carbon paper is no longer a fixture beside a typewriter. A peanut farmer from Georgia became president of the United States. The list can go on with changes for better and sometimes worse. I hope that she does know that her wayward daughter did finally “amount to something.”
In a recent issue of The Forest Blade, two lovely photographs were on the obituary page. I had not seen either in many years, but their memory is still fresh in my heart.
Jackie Youmans Drake was the older sister of my playmate, “Little Peyton.” At every chance, we begged her to do cartwheels for us. She was always ready to put on a show of gymnastics. Her limbs were as agile as if she had trained for the Olympics. This had to have been a natural talent. She married her SHS sweetheart, Charles Drake, and contributed to Swainsboro throughout her long life.
Frances Roberts Stewart and her husband brought a classic new store to Swainsboro when they opened Stewart’s Jewelers in 1949. This was a brave undertaking, for quality jewelry was not in many budgets. Succeed they did, and the business has celebrated its 70th anniversary. Their location was the best in town—right beside The Dixie. Before walking to the box office, it was enticing to window shop at the fine jewelry. Many engagement rings were chosen while waiting for the show to start.
These are two Emanuel belles who left much beauty and many treasured memories to their hometown.
Shirley can be reached at sptwiss@gmail.com.
