8 JAN 04: IN MEMORIAM
"A woman asked me, 'Aren't you afraid of riding with him?' And I said, 'No, because when I see that man, I see God." - next-door neighbor Lola Wilson, 1928-2005
Regular blog readers have seen this quote about once a week - but you may have noticed I haven't mentioned my next-door neighbor much lately. Now I sadly must report my neighbor passed away Friday night.
Lola Wilson has lived in the apartment next to mine ever since I moved to Columbus in 1997. That meant I saw her in all sorts of moods:
+ Celebration -- when she'd walk outside in the courtyard singing old gospel songs. She especially liked to do that on her birthday, thanking God in her own way.
+ Talkative - such as at 9:00 in the morning. I might be trying to sleep in, but she'd be on the porch talking loudly to someone standing several apartments away.
+ Angry - because even though she sang gospel songs and went to church wen she could, she could tell you off in language that my late father would find hard to match.
+ Desperate - for money, for instance. It didn't take long after I moved here before she started knocking on my door around the end of the month, needing a loan. (I assume she "made the rounds" of the complex, doing this with everyone.)
Lola would need three to five bucks a month, which she always repaid after her first-of-the-month paycheck came. But there were times when I stunned her by saying no -- especially when I heard her on the porch talking loudly about the Cash Three lottery numbers.
It seemed silly to add a line to my monthly budget saying, "Loan to Lola" - so in early 1999, I surrendered/compromised. I gave her a five-dollar gift. From that point on, if she needed money, she'd reach for that "gift" and then repay it. She didn't ask me for loans after that - but she needed help in other ways.
Lola never seemed to like riding METRA, so she'd get rides from co-workers and relatives to her job and other errands. In the last few years, that task fell on me more and more. When I wasn't working at an office, I "worked" for her -- sometimes three days a week.
Lola would pay for my gas when she could - but often that meant a long wait in the car every month at "The Money Tree" on Macon Road. She had to borrow money some time back to pay for a relative's funeral - so that loan office seemingly wound up with custody of her Social Security check.
Lola Wilson was 76 years old - but for a woman of that age, she had an innocence about her which made her easy material for a blogger like me. I'll never forget her thrill last year at going to Bill Heard Chevrolet for a "$1,000 shopping spree" - only then to see the joy disappear, as she scanned "shopping items" on my computer and didn't see anything she wanted.
Lola Wilson's last years were complicated by the fact that she had to bring up a granddaughter - a girl whose parents were either dead or behind bars (perhaps a little of both; I was never exactly sure). Sad to say, that granddaughter at last report was in jail.
She rebelled as a teenager by running away from home, then angrily spray-paining Lola's apartment walls.
Thanks to "Ms. Lola," I now know the locations of almost every food pantry in Columbus. But I know if the pantry's closed, she somehow has cash tucked deep in her purse to buy some groceries.
For all her quirks, Lola was a reliable neighbor. She watched my apartment and held my mail while I was on vacation. And she even told off a woman on a Sunday night, who came to my back door asking to borrow some butter. Lola somehow knew that wasn't really what the woman wanted....
I'm told high blood pressure and "too much salt" finally killed Lola Wilson. She spent the last few months in declining health, and I hardly ever saw her after my fall vacation to Kentucky. Her brother watched over the apartment - and the music from that apartment has been noticeably louder on weekends since.
(Oh yes - did I mention Ms. Lola is African-American? Sometimes a "One Columbus" movement is waiting right outside your door....)
My evening run tonight was dedicated to "Ms. Lola" - and I'm thrilled to say I went more than two-and-a-half miles non-stop in her honor, including my first trek under 13th Street on the expanding Phenix City Riverwalk. As I ran, I recalled a song by Christian country singer and preacher Del Way -- which seems perfect for remembering my neighbor:
Her youth renewed like an eagle, in the presence of the Son!
'Cuz when Granny hears that trumpet sound -- one day, Granny's gonna run!
(BLOGGER'S NOTE: We'll share some of our favorite stories of Ms. Lola from the blog. Look for them next weekend, to mark Martin Luther King Day.)
If you've read this far expecting jokes, I'm sorry to keep you waiting. Here are a few, to thank you for your patience:
+ I picked up a calendar at Publix which revealed today (Saturday) is "Bubble Bath Day." In this age of multi-tasking, this still is possible. Simply take a few dirty dishes and dishwashing liquid into the bathtub with you....
+ TV judge Greg Mathis addressed the NAACP annual banquet - and a WOKS announcer said he "stepped on some toes." So? The way he tells off plaintiffs and defendants on television, that may be the only way he knows.
+ Instant Message to the man who called WRCG's "TalkLine" and claimed no one cared about Martin Luther King "until he died": Apparently the Nobel Peace Prize voters did in 1964, Mr. History Channel - and they don't give that award to dead people.
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© 2003-05 Richard Burkard, All Rights Reserved.