The moment is gone.

During all of it, i was struck with the feeling once described by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Someone asked him about his writing process and he said something about being like two people, one living and the other watching and writing about the other person — it was something like that but of course, i can’t find it now to be exact. Regardless, that was the way i felt for a great deal of Sunday,

Vanderbilt. My mother. Closure. i’m looking at me.

As Candice Lee said to me as we walked off the court after Estelle Prichard Jewell was honored at halftime: “I’m sure she is up there smiling.” Maureen later commented, “Estelle would have protested, but she would have relented and been very, very happy.” i agree with both Candice and Maureen.

Looking back at the day ala Fitzgerald, i was a bit nervous at first, giddily laughing for a little while, pleased by the attention we got from Malcolm Turner, the new Vice-Chancellor of Athletics, Candice, Andrew, Renee, and the other Vanderbilt folks, bordering on tears for that small part of the ceremony — and would have lost it if i could have watched what they were flashing on the big screen. i was thankful to Vanderbilt.  i was glad for my mother, and, of course, my father who would beaming with pride. i was sorry all the other Jewell-Prichard grandchildren and great grandchildren could not be there. i was glad it was over. And i was tired.

If we get the video and the Vanderbilt photos of the ceremony, i will post them here. For now, here are the photos from Andrew Maraniss who was right there with the big cameras and behind the scenes (Still haven’t thanked you enough, Andrew).

Keep smiling…i am. And Mr. Fitzgerald, i understand what you were talking about.

There is a hole where our house used to be. A big hole.

No, it’s not our home. Nor our home on Castle Heights Avenue in Lebanon. It’s my house and the house for a rather large bunch of young men who lived there, ate there, played there, did some serious business there, and partied there. Oh boy, did they party there.

It is now a hole. Soon it will be a state of the art residence hall where more studying will be done in the first day it opens than in all of the 58 previous years. Where a student could spend his or her entire four years without leaving except for classes. Modern. Convenient. Impressive. Progress? Don’t know. i do know the Kappa Sigma house is gone. And with it, some legends.

i am not whining, mind you. It is a different time, a different world. Change. We keep attempting to make it better for college students. Probably have. i’m not smart enough to judge. i am of another time. Another place.

Oh, students still party. Don’t get me wrong.  They have more choices, more decisions to make. i’m sure of that. They don’t fill up the student sections of the college sports events. That’s sad to me: some camaraderie, school spirit seems to be lost. It seems to be more of an individual thing now. i really don’t know, but it seems that way to me. There is less of a dress code. Hell, i don’t think there is one now. Less strict. Less decorum. Good? Bad?

It’s theirs. We are trying to make it better for them. We have to keep trying. All i know is it was fun when it my time long ago, and i learned a lot about living.

i also know for now my house is a hole in the ground and in my heart. A memory now. And i am a bit sad.

The game is over. Our game. Mother’s game. Vanderbilt honored her pretty much the way they do everything else. They did it the right way, The Vandy way.

There were a couple of moments i wasn’t sure i was going to make it through without tears. i did, but not now. No, not now.

Runt aka Estelle Prichard aka Estelle Jewell aka Mother aka Grandma was honored as well as a basketball star of the 1930’s could be.

i will write more later about what happened and include some photos provided by Vanderbilt and Andrew Maraniss.

There are lots of folks i will thank later (in addition to Andrew), but as i sit here thinking about what has happened and my throat getting a lump and feeling like that lady who had an amazing jump/push shot even in her 70’s who just happened to be my mother, there is one special person who i am thinking about in addition to my parents.

Candice Lee thanked my mother through me for being a pioneer and allowing her and others to follow. Candice, a basketball star who became a superb deputy chancellor of athletics, made this happen. i cannot express any where near enough about what a gracious, beautiful woman she is. Dammit, Candice, you and Estelle finally made me cry a bit.

Thanks.

For everyone else, more later.

i was going to send emails and FB messages to all of the family about a grave situation, but i am lazy and decided to do this. Actually, i was concerned i might miss someone with the other two methods and will try to cover that after putting this out there.

Saturday, Joe and i went to Wilson County Memorial Gardens to complete a mission i began over Christmas. We went to all of the family graves we could think of and asked the cemetery manager to raise the following so they would not be obscured by dirt, leaves, and grass:

Wynne and Corrine Prichard (Papa and Aunt Corrine)
Jessie Mai Jewell, the infant daughter who died during birth to my grandparents
George and Naomi Martin
H. Culley and Myrtle (Mama) Jewell (my grandparents)
Virda Jewell Williamson
Jessie and Alice Jewell

All of these should also be cleaned, some need it more than others. This has to be done by one of the two monument companies in Lebanon and i have been working with the Johnson Monument folks, whose parents were good  friends with Mother and Daddy. They charge by the size and composition. From what they charge for a stone or marble monument gravestone (the ones listed are flat headstones), i’m guessing somewhere around $50 each.

If my family members of Jewell’s, Williamson’s, Prichard’s, Martin’s, and where ever those connections lead would like to contribute to the cleaning, please let me know. With that, i will review the necessity for cleaning and calculate what it would cost each of us who wish to donate to the cause and proceed. Also, if you would contact your family members who are not subscribers to my posts to see if they are interested, i would appreciate it.

For the Prichard family, the area of Prichard graves in Cedar Grove across the street seem to be okay in this regard as well as Aunt Daisy who has a monument next to Papa and Aunt Corrine Prichard in Memorial Gardens.

The cemetery managers noted the raising of the headstones should not be done until spring has fully set in, and then the cleaning should be done.

For other friends, i apologize for using this site for a personal family message, but it was the quickest and easiest way i could figure out how to reach family members, and i am not only lazy, i am technically challenged.

i’m sure there is something i should be doing. Some task. Some followup. Some phone call.

Don’t care. i’m sitting here in my hotel room, enjoying the view on a striped gray sky day:

i don’t see the parking lot. i really don’t. i thought about cropping it out, but i’m lazy. i’m just enjoying the environs where i spent a great deal of learning time.

No, i didn’t graduate. Just learned a lot. Dumb, or perhaps just naive, real, no kidding naive. Engineering instead of English. 18, 19, 21, 20 hours for the four regular semesters. Oh, did i mention not studying, hardly at all, partying, drinking? Proved it by doing well in ’67 summer school and almost made the grades to remain. Drama, Philosophy, Modern British and American Fiction. Engineering Statics re-do: oops on the last one. Missed it by that much. Couldn’t have remained anyway. Lost the scholarship. Back then you had to stay out for a year before going anywhere else, at least in Tennessee. Ended up having one of the best years of my life working for Fred Russell and the Nashville Banner sports department as office boy, assistant to the sports managing editor, cub reporter, bowling editor, figure-8 racing editor. Before going back to school. MTSU. Couldn’t have gotten a better education in literature anywhere else. Anywhere.

But my learning at Vandy was more than academic. i learned about friendship. i learned about not being a star. i learned about heartbreak. i think i learned to grow up, although i’m still working on that.

And it was right here, outside this hotel window like in that photo above. Dudley Field. Memorial Gym (the sweeping roof behind the stadium). On the other side of the stadium is Hawkins Field with its Fred Russell Press Box. The soccer and lacrosse stadium, the practice football field. Somewhere amongst all that stuff i see was the intramural six-man touch (ha, ha) football field where jaws were broken, concussions abounded, no quarter touch, you might say.

Like the intramural field, most of my haunts are gone. They are even tearing down my Kappa Sigma fraternity house which was a year old when i matriculated in ’62. New age stuff. i think that’s good. Probably. The Hippodrome is gone. King’s Inn is gone. Rotier’s is still here, a landmark, but i can’t get my own beer and keep my own tab anymore.

And i’m going to be with family. Honoring my mother. Can’t get much better than that.

Before it starts and i get all teary, thanks should be given:

First, there is Elmcroft of Lebanon, Tennessee. My father spent his last month of life there. My mother was with him and stayed around another nine months before joining him in that other place. It was there the seeds of Sunday’s events were planted. Elmcroft has a program called Second Wind Dreams. It is much like Make a Wish but for seniors and the resident doesn’t have to be terminal to be selected. Amy Barringer-Boggess was the social director when my mother was there.

The two talked about basketball. Mother told her about being in the LHS Blue Devil Hall of Fame and her basketball record. She also told Amy about how she and Daddy went to LHS girls basketball games forever and how she loved to watch Vanderbilt’s women’s team.

So Amy kicked the Second Wind Dreams into high gear. She and the Vandy women’s PR guy (sorry, guy, i don’t remember your name) set it up for Mother to meet the team during a summer practice session and then come to a game to be honored. In secrecy from my mother, Amy told me of the plans. i was elated.

Mother passed away two days later.

So about two years ago, i floated the idea of honoring my mother in abstentia via email to a bunch of Vandy folks. The Vice-Chancellor of Athletics, David Williams (who retired officially yesterday to go back to teaching law) said it should happen. Candice Lee, Associate Vice-Chancellor/Deputy Athletic Director, took the ball and dunked it. Andrew Maraniss, author of one of the most impactful books i’ve ever read, Strong Inside: Perry Wallace and the Collision of Race and Sports in the South, was constantly helping at every opportunity. Matt Anderson, the Assistant Director of Marketing for Vanderbilt Athletics coordinated the event and our participation.

And Sunday, Estelle Prichard Jewell will be honored for her high school basketball performance. Just for the record, she scored 33 points in one game when most games total scores did not total that amount, and she scored 287 points in the 1934-35 season. Both were records remaining intact until Ann Lucas broke both of them at LHS a quarter of a century later (Ann also beat the heck out of me in a one-on-one in the Heights gym when i was on the Hilltop and she was playing for the Blue Devils).

i don’t expect a big crowd. The Commodores have not been drawing well. Tennessee should bring out some fans, but the game conflicts with the Super Bowl. It doesn’t matter. i’m sure Mother is up there smiling her wry smile and my father is beaming with pride and love but also laughing his head off.

Thanks to everyone who made this happen.

As i have said to some, i am in training to hold back the tears.

And this view with its memories ain’t helping me a whole lot in my training sessions.