Monday, February 21, 2022
I first met David at Sparkman School in 1952 when he entered first grade. For the first month of that school year David would not speak. We all wondered what was wrong. Then, one day on the old stone porch during recess he began speaking; and I believe that I might have been the first person that he spoke to. I somehow felt honored. And I felt honored to be his friend from that point on. Fondly I recall the long walk that we took together across Bone Cave Mountain one day; the evenings that we sat on his porch and listened to his daddy, Lansden, tell stories that could actually make you smell the smoke and hear the meat frying; and sitting on the rocks beside the road and listening to David and Don Cummings play their guitars. Thanks for the great memories, My Friend. I will truly miss you.
