George Jones and Daddy

     The past week could be considered a sad time for many of us. We as a country lost a great entertainer in the passing of George Jones. On the local scene, however, it was the absence of the McDonald’s restaurant that was the subject of so many conversations. How in the world are these two topics related? To the average individual, probably not at all. But for me, they are closely knitted together in a very emotional memory.
     You see, my Daddy worked for a company that, for many years, built only McDonald’s. They later branched out and began building other restaurants, but it was the McDonald’s that I grew up hearing so much about. Lots of times Daddy would bring home some very interesting pieces from restaurants he would remodel. For years our kitchen table was from one of those restaurants. Not one of the plain, stuck in the floor kind, but the ones with the swivel seats! I believe at one time we even had a couple pieces of the old playground equipment - you know the "rocking horse" type on the big springs. Yeah, those were fun! Even my older two children had a fantastic wooden playset, the one with the swinging bridge and the "tower." It stood concreted in the ground until just a few years ago.
     Now, whenever I see one of those white trucks with the Hudson logo on the side, I can’t help but feel a light tug at my heart. I know what kind of man (or I guess, nowadays, woman) is in that truck. He’s a man who has probably traveled far from home to help bring those Golden Arches to some deserving town. He takes pride in his work. Each time he builds a playground, he makes sure it’s up to the standards he would want if it were his kids or grandkids playing on it. Each time he remodels a bathroom or a kitchen, is it safe enough or clean enough for his wife or daughters to use. He’s frustrated for being behind schedule and over budget. And if you were to take a peek inside his work trailer, there is a picture in his desk drawer under his list of local contractors, lightly covered in sawdust and dirt, of the family he has waiting back home.
     OK - to tie all this in with Mr. George Jones. My Daddy was not a "die-hard" fan of any particular performer or even genre of music. We listened to everything from oldies (rock and country) of the 50s and 60s, to the current country hits, and even some classical tunes by Floyd Cramer. It was not uncommon to hear him occasionally (attempt to) sing along with the radio. It was with songs like "White Lightnin," and the "she was hotter than a two-dollar pistol" song that I remember hearing him try to duplicate the deepness of George Jones’ voice. Whether he was on key or not, I couldn’t tell you. But I thought my Daddy sounded pretty good.
     Fast forward many, many years. George Jones was scheduled to perform at a local establishment one Friday night. I thought it would be a great idea to take my Daddy and enjoy the show with him. We had been to a Loretta Lynn show a few years prior and had a blast listening to all the old songs and seeing her and others up close and personal. The problem was that I was scheduled to go out of town for a conference the weekend of the George Jones concert. I dealt with conflicting emotions of wanting to spend time with my Daddy and needing to attend this conference for my business. I remember the morning we were to leave for Atlanta. I had a very uneasy feeling in my heart and in my gut. I mentioned it to the ladies I was with, and we decided that it was just excitement over the trip. Still, there was the feeling of unrest. That was on Friday morning. The George Jones concert was that night. I wasn’t going to be back home until Saturday evening. My Daddy died Sunday night.
     So, with the passing of George Jones this past week, the memory of that missed concert rises to the top. I still regret not staying home and making a point to spend those last days with my Daddy. But we can’t change the past. I only now have the feelings I get when I hear a George Jones song or a story about him in the news. My first thoughts are usually, "I gotta remember to tell Daddy."
     Today the Grand Ole Opry was host to thousands as they pay their last respects to the late Mr. George Jones. As I drove past the construction site where my beloved McDonald’s once stood, the radio played a tribute to him. "Who’s gonna fill their shoes? Who’s gonna stand that tall?" Yes, who indeed.