By Buddy Hazell
March 1, 2012, I was sitting in my recliner watching the 5 o’clock news, when a tear came rolling down my cheek. I thought to myself, “What’s wrong with my eye?” Then out of my eye came another tear. Not knowing my wife was looking, I wiped the tears away, and I said, “Honey, it is just a few weeks away.” She replied, “Yes I know”; I felt as if my heart had burst, and I got up and went into the bedroom, weeping as I went.
This story will be short, because my eyes are already watering up. My wife says that in my old age I am getting mellow, sentimental and emotional; maybe she is right. But, on March 25, 2010 God called my number three daughter home. He left me with four other daughters, and I thank Him for that. Please don’t think I don’t love the other girls, but there was a special bond between Misty and I.
Misty was my footprint, my shadow, and my close companion. We owned a farm in San Augustine County and had a two bedroom trailer house on it and were building a house which was to be our home one day. When I would go to the farm to work on the house, Misty would go with me. She was 11-12 years old at the time, and was my right hand. I taught her to drive at this time, and when my wife found out that Misty was driving on the highway, she had a fit. She was such a good driver; I could just relax and take a nap.
While working on the house, she was as good as many grown men. She knew the difference between a 1 by 4 and a 2 by 4; she could hand me a 2 by 6, or a 2 by 8, which ever I wanted. When we were roofing the house, she was right there nailing on shingles. When I was plumbing, if I asked for a three quarter inch galvanized union, she gave it to me.
We were using a cast iron heater in the winter, and she kept kindling split and in the house. We were staying there one winter, and I had to be gone to work on the Church Parsonage. The temperature dropped to 19 degrees one night and the water pipes were frozen. They hauled drinking water from a neighbor, but Lulu said, “How can we flush the commode?” Now we are talking about a girl 12-13 years old. Misty told her mother, I’ll get some water Mother.” About 200 feet in front of the house was a small creek with banks about 6-7 feet deep; Misty took a five gallon bucket, slid down the bank of the creek, filled her bucket, climbed up the bank, and walked back to the house. They had water to flush.
When Misty was in the sixth grade, she joined the band. She wanted to play the flute because Barbara played the flute. After mastering the flute, she got off the school bus one day with a tuba. Soon she learned to play it. I think she ran every deer out of our part of the county playing that thing. After this, in Malakoff High School she played the clarinet; then came the saxophone, and finally as first chair of the TVCC Select Band, of all things playing the oboe.
“Dear God, I miss that girl.”