Remembering Woody and Nathaniel Hawthorne on a Cold Day

            The cold weather of the past month unearthed memories of over 50 years ago. Frigid temperatures propel me sometimes into headaches, which I make a conscious effort to avoid at all cost. I don my below freezing uniform when the temperature dictates. It is cumbersome but warm and staves off those headaches.

             Recently as I awaited the filling of the livestock water tank, Wayne “Woody” Morris came to mind. In my memory, Woody usually wore a jean jacket. His stalwart ability to withstand brutally cold weather astounded me. That fearless toughness amazed me.

Wayne Morris in his junior year as
published in the RHS 1971 yearbook.

He was energetic and often had a comment about whatever was happening. If  Debbie Hightower and I were not visiting on the long bus rides or I didn't have a good book to devour, just listening to Woody entertained me.

I don’t remember not knowing Wayne. We attended Vacation Bible School together when I was a preschooler at the Big Bend Baptist Church. He lived just down the hill east of the church in the house where my mother had been born. His mother mesmerized me with her piano artistry from the very first time I heard her play as an extremely young child. 

1960 VBS program at Big Bend Baptist Church -L to R -  Bernadean
 Gates, Rick Rice, Wayne Morris, and Mike Mitchell. (My curl-resistant
hair was permed. Can-cans were all the rage.)

As water continued filling the livestock tank, another memory emerged from the deep recesses of my mind relating to Wayne’s junior year when he was assigned the reading of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s classic, The House of the Seven Gables. Mrs. Diane Coke, a gifted English teacher, taught all high school English classes. One afternoon, Wayne boarded the bus for the ride home. He was perplexed. The date rapidly approached to have the highly revered American novel completed for his junior English class. Uncharacteristically for Wayne, he conveyed concern about not getting credit for this English class. My cousin, Thomasine Rainey, chimed in about the onerously descriptive nature of Hawthorne’s writing, “Why he takes a whole page to describe a doorknob!”

My brain began to work. I recalled my collection of Classics Illustrated, condensed versions of classical books in comic book form.

I had acquired my collection at a younger age. Mother drove us in for piano lessons during the summer. If she had to get a few groceries items, sometimes she allowed Angie and me to choose a small item. My choice was always one of the many Classics Illustrated that Leroy and Esther Brumley had in their store.

The next morning, I slipped my copy The House of the Seven Gables from my Classics Illustrated collection. On the bus, I asked Wayne quietly if this would help him with his English assigned reading. He responded with gratitude probably a little louder than I wanted since I knew Mrs. Coke wanted him to read the book not a comic book. I knew I would rather downplay the crafty aspect of my assistance to Woody with the English assignment and keep it “on the sly.”

As I thought about the unenthusiastic
attitude Wayne had about reading the
original version of this, I recalled my
 dad replying when I wondered why
some third graders, usually boys, did
 NOT like to read firction. but always
chose nonfiction. Dad said, "Who
wants to read made-up stuff?"

Within days, Woody bounded onto the bus with exuberance overflowing. He had received credit for reading The House of the Seven Gables! As he handed me the comic book version of the classic assigned by Mrs. Coke, he declared with honesty and conviction, “I could kiss you!” My intense timidity made me want to crawl under the bus seat, but I was very glad I had helped him pass his junior English course.

The stock tank was almost lip-full when a sobering, sorrowful event came into my mind. I recalled standing with many teenagers along the walls of the old Assembly of God Church in Fairfax, Oklahoma. As a 16-year-old, along with the entire community and the Ralston High School, we were mourning the untimely death of Wayne. Even though I had never been shielded from death, this was different. It was someone almost exactly two years older than me. He was only 18 years old!

After turning off the frost-free hydrant and covering its handle and spout, I returned to the house. Later that night I accessed the findagrave site and soon located the memorial for Wayne at:  https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/129892435/farrel-wayne-morris. I realized his family had chosen a verse that brings comfort beyond measure. Jesus spoke these words to a grieving sister over her brother’s death. Yet our wholehearted belief in Jesus remains as powerful today as when He spoke these words:

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me though he may die, he shall live.” John 11:25

When we have a life-altering belief in Jesus, He gives abundant life for our daily lives and everlasting life for the never-ending future.