Old Friends Departed

It is May and I could still write about the coronavirus, but I am not going to because I am sick of it. I am sick of the theories, sick of the numbers, just sick of it but thankfully not with it.

I could say a lot about my political opinions on the subject but, several weeks ago, Publisher Allan Bassler had a column on why writing political opinions never really changes anyone's mind. How true. No one except the people who agree with me care what I think.

This month, I am going to write about a very great loss I suffered this year with the passing of two dear friends. They were friends from the time I was around four and the family moved across the road from our farm.

Being farmers, my parents were not inclined to take walks. They got plenty of exercise doing their daily chores. I do remember one sunny Sunday afternoon around 1945 when we put my brother into a buggy and walked out the lane, over the bridge and up the road to our new neighbors, the Replogles.

That day, I met Jim, who was around 3, and Donald who was probably 12 or 13. Little did I know we would remain friends for the rest of their lives.

Jim and I were in school together, thus we sang in the chorus, played in the band, went square-dancing and roller skating. We also went to the same church and Youth Fellowship. Being of the same gender as my brother, the two of them played rough games. One day while impersonating Davy Crockett at the Alamo, my brother hit Jim over the head with a stick, necessitating sutures.

A few weeks later, Jim was going to teach my brother how to ride a bicycle, but forgot to tell him about the brakes. Consequently, he rode into a barbed-wire fence.

Jim and Delores

After we all grew up, graduated, and went our separate ways, we still remained friends. In more recent years, we did many things with Jim and his wonderful wife Delores. We went to festivals, out to dinner, and even explored local history. Jim was a descendant of Indian Eve and looked for all the world like one of Eve's sons.

When his health began to go bad, it spiraled downwards rapidly. He had a stroke, lost his sight, then loss of his kidneys. It was devastating to say the least. Delores was always there to be his nurse.

Jim never had children of his own, but at his funeral there were two rows of young people who called him "Grandpap." They were from both Delores and his previous deceased wife, Judy. No doubt he left a legacy to many who loved him.

Donald and Dot

Being older, Donald would probably not have remained in my life had it not been for his always loving wife, Dot. Dot, who was Dorothy Ann Grubb, came to our farm to live with us when I was about six. She helped my mom and my brother and I loved her like a sister. Dot's father had died and her mother Ella Fay remarried to Joe Gamble, who raised honeybees.

Every winter, they packed up a big truck and the six children they had between them and headed for Florida and the orange blossoms. Dorothy preferred to stay in the Cove, hence her coming to our house.

The Replogles lived across the road and Don and Dot became a couple in high school and married in 1951. Donald loved farming and began as a farm hand. I remember our family going to visit them in Henrietta, Lewisburg, Martinsburg, and for a time they lived in a little house on the Detwiler Dairy farm.

Then Don went back home and took over the family farm and made it grow. They had three sons, Steve, Dennis and Allen. Denny was supposed to be the ring-bearer at our wedding but at the last minute, refused to walk down what appeared to him to be a treacherous aisle.

I remember so many things about Dot and Don. I remember Don helping to turn me into a marigold for the Nutcracker Suite put on by the Replogle Elementary one Christmas.

I remember the two of them "spooning" on the swing on our front porch while they were babysitting my brother and me. Their house was one of the first places I took my husband to visit when we started dating.

After we were married, we visited back and forth and went square-dancing. If there was anything going on in town, Dot and Don were most likely to be there. Despite their very busy and sometimes hectic farm life, they always found time to have fun and experience joy in life.

Left behind is a wonderful family of children, seven grandchildren and six great-grandchildren. Dot and Don spent his last few years at Homewood. Dot lives on, but sadly does not recognize many people these days. I hope that deep in her mind she remembers the many joyous times she had with the man she loved and the delightful family they raised.

This year I said goodbye to both of them. As we drove to Chambersburg to Jim's funeral, I remembered that Jim was the first one through the door of the funeral home when my dad passed. If there was a big occasion in our lives, one of the Replogles was always there. I think it is rather unusual that childhood neighbors would remain that close for a lifetime.

Our friendship covered more than 75 years.