MountainMornings

I was just telling the Bride the story about the Flapper’s easiest birth. After her last doctor’s appointment had determined that baby girl was still in the breech position, the topic of “birth options” was a frequent theme – acupuncture, yoga, C-section? “How many crib sheets do I really need,” followed by, “Well she must be in that position for a reason.” My brother Mike was born at home, baby number four to a Pharmacist and his Flapper wife in Scranton, PA. My Mother was hanging clothes out on the line when she told a friend who was helping, to run and fetch the doctor. I imagined a young woman running through the backyards of that coal town, around fences and flapping sheets, hurrying by gardens and family pets to fetch the old doctor who was a friend of our Father. By the time he arrived, Mike was already coming into this world.

My memories cannot be trusted because I was not there for most of our family history. I was number six in that Year of Living Dangerously, when 13 year old Mike wanted to play basketball with a friend and so was spared the 1949 Independence Day tragedy. These are the stories I’ve heard: he was always hard working; he would gather coal to sell after our Father died; he was the most affected by our family’s loss. Later Mother told me she had to beat girls off of him with a shelaighly, he was that handsome. I believed her, to me he was like Paul Newman. But more than looks, he carried a certain confidence with him. When Mike was around, things would get done. He had a natural talent for business. This much I knew, when he walked into a room, all heads turned and the room hushed. Mike had charisma. As we entered the Layfayette Club for dinner, he’d say, “I’m here to eat, not to dine.”

Whenever we all descended on his beloved Walter Place in Holly Springs, MS he was delighted. His beautiful wife Jorja always made his Yankee siblings feel loved and comfortable. At his daughter’s wedding a few years ago, Bob got to know him a little better. They were the early risers, and so had some good talks over coffee with hummingbirds circling the backyard porch. Always the businessman, they discussed health care reform and the future of the music industry. Mike loved hearing about the Rocker and was so proud of his daughter, an Opera singer. Oh and another story I heard, Mike had a wonderful voice. The Flapper played Frank Sinatra records in the house non-stop. Later, in Memphis, he befriended Elvis. I think there was a part of him that wanted to be in show business. For one of the Flapper’s birthdays, he arranged to have Cab Calloway play at her party. Imagine that.

A generous man, he took care of our Mother in her golden years. If you needed help, you would ask him. One brother left for the Air Force and landed in Germany, another brother became a psychologist, exploring the landscape of the mind. But Mike was the pragmatist, always figuring out the best, fastest most efficient way to make a deal. And with him, a deal is a deal! He was a man of his word, telling his sons to always do, “The right and proper thing.” We will all miss you Mike. You entered this world quickly, like you just couldn’t wait to get started. And somehow we thought, you would never leave. http://www.twincities.com/vikings/ci_21129418/tom-powers-there-wont-be-another-like-mike

My love to Jorja and their children and grandchildren for always and forever.