Any remaining mysteries in my life have now gone to the grave. Sadly, I never got to meet either of my bio-parents, whose brief interactions brought me into the world 72 years ago (1951). I do feel a sense of loss, but it’s not like I have any memories. Cecil Banister was the father and I’ve been in the creek-side, log cabin home that he built in Scipio, Indiana. I’ve met his wife, daughters, and two grandchildren. They were responsive to my DNA results and have become part of my family. However, on Edna’s side my letters and texts have gone unacknowledged. I could probably go to the funeral and meet them all, but it was apparently not what she wanted. She was entitled to her privacy, obviously embarrassed with my role in her life. I was clearly a teenage mistake, but grateful for the life she gave me.
I never really felt like she owed me anything. She made many sacrifices for my existence. First of all, she gave up attending high school and never graduated. She may have experienced some heartbreak from her relationship with Cecil when he went off to the Marines and soon married one of her classmates. She undoubtedly felt the wrath of her parents, fellow students, friends, church members and relatives regarding their disappointment with her promiscuity. We also don’t know how secretive this all was kept, as many young women in her position were shamefully hidden from those around them.
Maybe her parents never forgave her? Fortunately, for me, abortion was not a legal option, so the Suemma Coleman home put me on the right adoption path and quickly connected me with my loving Johnston parents. Perhaps the pregnancy ordeal caused a rift in the Banister family since the couple were distant cousins from the same small town. Her side could have been pushing for marriage, while he might have never admitted to their affair. She was certainly not secretive as to his identity in the adoption paperwork that I have. He was apparently nowhere near the area when I was born, likely in San Diego, so there is also the possibility that he never knew I existed. I’ll never know if she had any regrets in giving me up after birth or ever thought of me on my birthday. These are a few of the many mysteries that died with her.
The following obituary gives a few more details about her life. Neither of her two husbands are mentioned – Poole or Davidson. I have no plans to attend the funeral but will be there in spirit, as I have been her entire lifetime. After reading this, I will also never see another carnation without thinking of her. Rest in Peace!
Edna Faye Davidson April 9, 1933 – September 4, 2023:
Edna Faye Davidson, 90, of Seymour passed away on Monday evening, September 4, 2023, at Covered Bridge Health Campus in Seymour surrounded by her loved ones. She was born on April 9, 1933, in Shelbyville, IN the daughter of Ivan “Pete” Ruby (Taylor) Banister.
Edna is survived by two children, Janet Davidson of Indianapolis, IN and Jerry (Patti) Poole of Seymour; eight grandchildren, Michael A. Davidson, Rachel Cravens, Justin L. Davidson, Jason Poole, Scott Poole, Tammy Poole and Ronnie and Rebecca Schroder; sixteen great grandchildren and two great-great grandchildren. She is also survived by numerous nieces, nephews, and cousins.
Edna was preceded in death by her parents; two sons, Gary Lynn, and Larry Joe Davidson; three brothers, Charles Ray Banister, and Rex Banister, and Elmer Banister; and four sisters, Helen Barker, Evelyn Simpson, Eva Ferguson, and Wilma McDaniel.
Edna worked for Jay C Plus Grocery Stores in Seymour for over forty years in the bakery department, retiring in the early 2000’s. After retirement she enjoyed reading, tending to her flowers, especially her carnations and spending time outside watching the hummingbirds and squirrels. Her greatest joy though was being able to spend time with her family especially her grandkids, great grandkids, and great-great grandkids. She was a member of Calvary Baptist Church in Seymour.
A celebration of life for Edna will be held on Monday, September 11, 2023, at 1 p.m. at the Voss and Sons Funeral Home. Inurnment will take place at Riverview Cemetery in Seymour. The family will greet friends from 11 a.m. until the time of services at 1 p.m. on Monday September 11, 2023, at Voss and Sons Funeral Home.
Memorial contributions may be made to the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation or to the National Scleroderma Foundation.
Funeral arrangements for Edna have been entrusted with the Voss & Sons Funeral and Cremation Services of Seymour.
To send flowers to the family or place a tree in memory of Edna Faye Davidson, please visit our Tribute Store.
Over the past few posts, I’ve recounted our long drive back to Indiana for a wedding and funeral. In the meantime, we missed Hurricane Idelia, evacuating well. Most of the references in this recap poem were alluded to in these reports but the names may or may not have been changed to protect the innocent.
Road Rations
Truist Park.
Hot-lanta Braves,
Amanda’s house,
Artwork raves.
Lodge cast iron,
Big Bad Breakfast.
River House dinner,
Recalling Egypt’s past.
The curb had no mercy,
Tire Pressure light a pain.
Rocky Raccoon sighting,
When will we hit rain?
Baseball, Bourbon, & Bats,
Wedding & Funeral await.
Louisville Slugger Factory,
And Evan Williams date.
Freddy’s for lunch,
Bio Mom nearby.
Joanie in Nashville,
Bloomington drive-by.
Pumpkin bars & caramels,
Flushed with Diet Coke.
BLTs and Burgers,
Weight loss plans a joke.
Hoosier Tenderloins,
Indy friends to meet.
We’d already had,
Too much to eat.
Brunch at Ruth’s Café,
For a Beatle’s song.
“All you need is Love,”
We all sang along.
Bottleworks vows,
Cookies not cake.
I’d already had,
A spin on the lake.
The lyric-off winner,
Denise proved wise.
A shot of tequila,
Bobby 2’s demise.
Bobby 1 calmed,
His angry son.
As Claire and Shawn,
Got ‘er Done!
Miranda was the DJ,
But the music was faint.
So no dancing Dan,
And the Outlaw no saint.
We had as much fun,
As old age would allow.
The “life of the party,”
Mitch met his vow.
West Fork Whiskey,
My Birthday pour.
Along with some Nike’s,
And fire pit s’mores.
Oliphant Hospitality,
Sahm’s and Capri.
Many old acquaintances,
At the viewing to see.
Onward to Huntsville,
Buc-ee’s for brisket.
Just after digesting,
A Cracker Barrel biscuit.
Banisters at Connor’s,
Then stayed an extra night.
As Hurricane Idalia,
Showed her might.
Cheesecake Factory salad,
Tasteless movie “Strays.”
P.F. Chang’s encore,
Little to do but graze.
Detour to Dothan,
And the giant peanut.
Pepto Bismol tablets,
For the rumble in my gut.
Texas Roadhouse ribs,
With hot buttered rolls.
McMuffins and Shakes,
Glad we’re home – I’m full!
Copyright 2023 johnstonwrites.com
We keep coming “Back Home Again,” for family events, particularly in Indianapolis. Our first stop in the state was lunch at the Seymour Freddy’s on the last leg of our drive into Carmel. It was the closest to my bio-mother I’ve been since birth, since she supposedly is in a retirement home there, and in near proximity to my step-brother, Jerry, who works next door at the Walmart Distribution Center. There has still been no direct contact with this side of the Banister family, but they’ve resided in this area for years.
After dropping my wife off in Brown County’s Nashville, I made a trip back in time to nearby Bloomington and the Indiana University campus. It was somewhat disturbing. My very first college apartment had been converted into an office with gated parking underneath and stairways/patios now enclosed. The Sigma Chi house on 10th Street was gone, undoubtedly moved to Fraternity Row. Even more surprisingly, my second apartment complex, Colonial Crest, had been completely demolished. Most signs of my existence as a young adult had been erased. Even once arriving in Indy, The Keystone Sports Review, where I planned to have lunch with friends, was in the process of relocating. The former building had been leveled. We ended up at the Friendly Tavern in Zionsville instead, close to where I once lived while working in Lafayette. One dining establishment I was glad to see still doing good business was The Capri, where we went to dinner one night. It was built in 1951, the year I was born, and one of the few landmarks from my past still standing.
We extended our stay in Indy for a quickly planned funeral, following the beautiful family wedding that generated some adult friction and kid drama. Although our friend’s unexpected death was obviously a sad affair, we caught up with some old acquaintances at the viewing, including a former boss that promised me some Cooperstown memorabilia signed by his son-in-law, recent inductee Scott Rolen.
Our five nights in Indy included more Bourbon tasting at West Fork Whiskey to celebrate my birthday, along with s’mores prepared while sitting around our friend’s backyard fire-pit. After imposing on them as house guests, it was well past time for the long drive home. One morning I took the road weary Lexus to Discount Tire to have the malfunctioning pressure gage checked out from roughly hitting a curb in Louisville.
The next evening we made our way to Huntsville, Alabama a day late for dinner with my Banister family at Connor’s Steakhouse. My bio sister, Julianna, drove over from Tuscaloosa and stayed with her son and his wife. I learned a few more things about Cecil Banister, my birth father. He loved shrimp but rarely paid for it, often serving on juries just to get fed this favorite. He loved chocolate and popcorn, always had a dark tan, and wore hearing aids. I can relate to most of these things, but obviously shrimp is not an inherited taste trait. His grandson, Gabriel, is a ND fan, while Julianne, his mother, supports her Crimson Tide employer. It was great to get together with them, even if it was only for a short time.
With Hurricane Idalia targeted to hit Tallahassee in the morning, I made some last-minute arrangements with my son back in Florida to prepare our home for the storm, that fortunately had very little impact on our neighborhood. Once again, we had evacuated well, as had been the case with Ian when we were in Alaska. We also cancelled our next Marriott reservation and continued to stay at the Huntsville Element, a surprisingly great Westin property owned by Marriott, of course! Lunch was at The Cheesecake Factory, followed by a matinee movie of “Strays,” and dinner at PF Chang’s. We spent the last night in Dothan at a Courtyard, under the shadow of the giant peanut. Texas Roadhouse and Freddy’s were our last two dining spots as we fought our way through heavy rains on the way home. Tally was also grateful to be back in her bed, while Road Trip 2023 is a wrap!
Stay tuned for a poetic recap!
It’s been a while since I’ve written about Sherm Lollar. Today, August 23, 2024, would have been his 99th birthday. Sadly, he died at the very young age of 53, 46-years ago. I’m at the Louisville Slugger Factory today diligently looking for any signs of his existence but couldn’t find a bat or plaque anywhere. I checked the vault and the wall of signatures but to no avail. I did get to swing an Eloy Jimenez bat, the only current White Sox player with a stock of lumber at the factory. I also tested the weight of bats used by former Cub players Kyle Schwarber and Kris Bryant, but the heaviest by far was the Babe Ruth model.
They gave us mini bats for taking the tour and we had a penny flattened with the Slugger logo. My wife bought a magnet and an “It’s All About The Wood” t-shirt as additional souvenirs. My good friend Peter Browning had me check out the first custom bat ever made there, with a “Pete” Browning signature from 1884. He was the original “Louisville Slugger” before the company trademarked the name in 1894 “to honor his patronage and capitalize on his fame.” He was also dubbed “The Gladiator” and played for the local semipro team, the Louisville Eclipse, but helped coin the “Pirates” nickname in Pittsburg due to an 1891 player strike when he and several other players were accused of piracy after signing contracts while theoretically under the control of other clubs. He is one of many famous players who should probably be in the Hall of Fame.
I do have a #11 Luis Aparicio Louisville Slugger in my collection and a #35 Frank Thomas manufactured bat from Hoosier, both players enshrined in Cooperstown. I’ve seen bats autographed by Sherm Lollar from Adirondack and H&R (Louisville Slugger parent company Hillerich & Bradsby) for sale on eBay. It’s one of the few items I don’t possess in my Lollar collection of cards, photos, articles, mitts, balls, caps, uniform, and trinkets. Few can probably rival my extensive inventory of memories from his illustrious two-decade plus catching and coaching career with the Indians, Yankees, Browns, White Sox, Orioles, A’s, Iowa Oaks, and Tucson Toros. He’s surely crouched behind Heaven’s Home Plate – Happy Birthday, Sherm!
After 2 full days of driving, we’ve settled into the downtown Louisville Towne Suites, once again under the care of Mother Marriott. We’re apparently in a “bad” part of town but near the Louisville Slugger Museum, the ultimate goal of our stay here. Last night, we were initially supposed to have a River House dinner with 6 of our fellow Nile River Cruise passengers. However, two tested positive for Covid and two others weren’t feeling well, so it ended up with just four of us plus a raccoon on the banks of the Ohio River.
We had driven in from Atlanta where we watched the Mets beat the Braves in Truist Park, a first for me on my list of ballparks. One of the highlights of Day 1 was a stop at Buc-ee’s for fudge and a brisket sandwich, even after a Cracker Barrel Old Timer’s. A 2-mile run through our niece’s eclectic neighborhood, where we spent the night, started Day 2. By lunchtime, we had been in the car for over two hours when we began our search for another Cracker Barrel. Instead, we spotted a billboard for the Big Bad Breakfast at the Lodge Cast Iron Skillet Factory in South Pittsburg, Tennessee.
This afternoon, Day 3, we have appointments for a tasting at Evan Williams and then the Slugger Museum. This evening we’ll probably go to Senior Night (wine tasting) at Slugger Stadium. The AAA Louisville Bats (Reds) play the Toledo Mud Hens (Tigers). There is also an Angels Envy distillery near the ballpark that sparked my interest. The next morning (Day 4) we drive to Indy with a short consultation stop near Brown County with my wife’s spiritual advisor. Right now, as we relax in the hotel room, I’m taking the time to recap the trip, so far, before we head to lunch at Jimmy John’s, just a short walk down the street – another traditional road trip favorite like Cracker Barrel, McDonald’s breakfast, Freddy’s, Texas Roadhouse, PF Chang’s, and Arby’s (not so much now that they’ve discontinued their potato cakes). Eventually, we’ll get to all of these on this drive.
There have been a lot of road trips in my life, mostly due to transporting cars or pets. In this case, we felt it was more affordable to drive from Florida to Indiana rather than drive. After all, time is not really a factor in retirement, but living on a fixed income is becoming more of challenge. I still have plenty of Marriott Rewards Points that we’ll use in Louisville, Huntsville, and Tallahassee along the way. I’ll save some for Barcelona next spring.
This particular Road Trip will hardly have the appeal of a college movie, but every time I take the wheel for a long drive, memories of youthful journeys to Ft. Lauderdale, California, and the Upper Peninsula of Michigan come to mind. I also can’t help but think of family station wagon vacations with my parents to Yellowstone and Florida, recalling stops at all the tourist traps along the way. There’s a sense of freedom behind the wheel that sparks the spirit of adventure.
In more recent years, my wife and I have done two separate cross-country drives from Oregon to Florida, one into Canada, and a third through the Midwest up to Mackinac Island. All were filled with touristy stuff. We also like to cover area tourist attractions on Thursdays with some shorter day trips. Last week we did the Venice Museum and the week prior, Solomon’s Castle. Yesterday, we drove down to Punta Gorda to Fisherman’s Village and an early dinner at Ginger Dim Sum. Longer road trip excursions have included Marco Island, Sarasota, Tampa, St. Petersburg, Cape Canaveral, Daytona, Vanderbilt Beach, Fort Myers, South Beach, Jupiter, Vero Beach, St. Augustine, Orlando, Jacksonville, Arcadia, Leesburg, Amelia Island, and The Keys.
This week’s Road Trip is to Indiana for a wedding, so I’ll be wearing a suit for the first time in years. I had intended to wear one, as required, at the Grand Hotel last year but the pants had fallen off the hanger, so I had to improvise. The last wedding that we attended was a month ago on the Oregon Coast but it was informal. I would have to go back four years ago in San Francisco to the time when I wore my gray pinstripe. For this particular occasion and variety’s sake, I packed a black one. I would hate to be seen wearing the same suit at all my relative’s weddings when pictures are gone through years from now. However, I do still have the tux that I wore to our wedding nearly 25-years ago, even though one of my first steps in retirement was to clear my closet of most business attire.
Hey, it’s time to get packing. The fantasy football draft is this afternoon and a cover band concert tonight. The first leg of tomorrow’s drive is 7.5 hours, meaning an early running start for my minimum mile and a long day in the car to get to the baseball game on time. We also have to drop Tally off at Schnauzerville. I’m not taking my laptop and therefore blogging will be delayed. Expect a recap in about 10-days. Road Trip 2023 is about to begin!
Sadly, to put a heart-shattering, double exclamation mark on the 2022-23 season, the Hoosier women lost the BIG Tourney to Ohio State but won a NCAA Tourney first round game against Tennessee Tech, however, just like the men, lost to Miami “The U” to end the season. I would have to wait at least another year. The UConn men, on the other hand, would make a statement about how the “Magic of Sixty” applies to any championship team.
It was just announced that the 2023-24 Hoosiers will play the defending NCAA champion Huskies in the Empire Classic at Madison Square Gardens on November 19th. Since both teams experienced major turnover in the off-season with the NBA draft and transfer portal moves, no one is really sure what to expect. UConn is projected in the Top 10 while Indiana barely makes the Top 25. Dan Hurley and Mike Woodson will match coaching wits for the first time in a battle that will likely boil down to defense.
After just five years at the helm, Hurley’s Huskies claimed the top prize and tied Indiana with five NCAA Championship banners (1999, 2004, 2011, 2014, and 2023). The difference is that it took UConn only 24 years to get there as opposed to I.U.’s 47-year span. All of UConn’s titles have come well after the Hoosier’s last triumph in 1986 – 38 years ago.
In doing so, Coach Hurley took a page out of Coach Bob Knight’s book of defensive magic, leading his Huskies in the Final Four over the same Miami squad that had eliminated Coach Woodson’s Indiana in the second round. They, in fact, coincidentally held the Hurricanes to 59 points to get the chance to do the same 59-point defensive damage to San Diego in the Championship. Double the Magic to finish the season!
To get there, they had already held high-scoring Gonzaga to 53, Arkansas to 29-points at the half, St. Mary’s to a game total of only 55, and Iona to 24 in the second half. It’s that same Magic of Sixty (or two 30-point halves) that I’ve been preaching throughout this book. They apparently learned a lesson going into the NCAA Tourney when Marquette beat them for the Big East title because the Golden Eagles held the Huskies to just 30 in the second half, showing how defensive magic can work against them. Yes, UConn had their ups and downs throughout the season but went 17-1 when holding their opponent to 60-or less. The only loss was to Creighton 56-53, and that was countered earlier in the season with a 69-60 win over the same Blue Jays. Villanova, DePaul, and Oregon each only managed 59, Seton Hall 55, Butler 46, Iowa State 53, Delaware State 60, Boston University 57, and Stonehill 54 – all victims of the Magic of 60. If you get there first, you will likely win.
The game of basketball has changed since IU won their first title in 1940 over Kansas 60-42. Defenses are challenged even more with the shot clock, the 3-pointer, and other regulation shifts. However, as UConn just proved, THE MAGIC OF 60 STILL RULES!
This Carpenter’s song crossed my mind this morning, after all it was Monday and raining. I’m actually surprised that this theme hasn’t come to mind before in the course of doing this blog. “Singing in” and “Saving for” have been covered in the past. Rain was common in Portland, but while living here in Florida we’ve experienced many long draughts. This morning during my daily run, I had the pleasure of a light rain and overcast skies after months of excessive heat. For once, I didn’t feel like my shoes might melt to the pavement. In fact, the last temperature break I experienced was when we traveled back to Portland a month ago. Otherwise, it’s been hot and dry.
Mondays have lost their bad reputation in retirement. As just another day, they no longer get me down and the rain is welcome, so the lyrics of this popular classic no longer necessarily apply:
“Talkin’ to myself and feelin’ old
Sometimes I’d like to quit, nothin’ ever seems to fit
Hangin’ around
Nothin’ to do but frown
Rainy days and Mondays always get me down
What I’ve got, they used to call the blues
Nothin’ is really wrong, feelin’ like I don’t belong
Walkin’ around
Some kind of lonely clown
Rainy days and Mondays always get me down
Funny, but it seems I always wind up here with you
Nice to know somebody loves me
Funny, but it seems that it’s the only thing to do
Run and find the one who loves me (the one who loves me)
What I feel has come and gone before
No need to talk it out (talk it out)
We know what it’s all about
Hangin’ around (hangin’ around)
Nothin’ to do but frown
Rainy days and Mondays always get me down
Funny, but it seems that it’s the only thing to do (only thing to do)
Run and find the one who loves me
What I feel has come and gone before
No need to talk it out (talk it out)
We know what it’s all about
Hangin’ around (hangin’ around)
Nothin’ to do but frown
Rainy days and Mondays always get me down
Hangin’ around (hangin’ around)
Nothin’ to do but frown
Rainy days and Mondays always get me down
Songwriters: Paul H. Williams, Roger S. Nichols
For non-commercial use only.
We finally got some rain last night, as thunderstorms swept through the area. Our lawn and garden got some necessary natural hydration, giving our water bill a bit of a break. It was apparently still too hot for the Philly Cheesesteak food truck, disappointing my taste buds. Imagine cooking in a tin can with temperatures near ninety degrees. We thawed out some chicken noodle soup instead and streamed more of Designated Survivor. “Netflix and Chill” – retirement style.
Earlier in the day, I watched Da’ Bears win a preseason game against the Titans. No big deal to most but a rare win in my book. Next Saturday they play the Colts. I’ve followed the White Sox to their doom this year and am trying not to jinx the Cubs by continuing to ignore their recent success. Although not an Angels fan, I seem to have paid too much attention to Shohei Ohtana and consequently have him in a slump. USA Women’s soccer was a disappointment and IU basketball recruiting seems to be at a standstill, although attracting national attention. I did see that Hoosier soccer waso optimistically preseason ranked at #2. Not much word on football, so better than getting my hopes up.
We’re two weeks away from the drive to Indianapolis, with some arrangements yet to be made. Our Louisville stop on the way there is somewhat contingent on getting together with some folks that we met on the Nile River Cruise. On the way back through Huntsville, we have to cement some plans with my half-sister and need to reserve a room in Tallahassee. Part of this excursion will be to celebrate my 72nd birthday.
I’ve just recently added the game of Monopoly GO to the list of silly games that I play on my phone. With all the time I waste with them, I hope they are at least keeping my mind sharp and dementia-free, as advertised. It all started with 7 Little Words many years ago, replacing crossword puzzles and Sudoku. I then added Solitaire, where animated fireworks were the only reward, upgrading recently to Solitaire Cash. I’ve yet to win any of the “thousands” that others are supposedly collecting. I occasionally use the $10 cash I earn every month by sharing my phone data with MobileXpression, but it hasn’t resulted in any big payouts. I also play Wordle every morning, with a current streak of 110, hoping to surpass the previous record of 119. Oh, the games people play!
I continue to struggle with my daily run, fighting temperatures and humidity that feel like 100-degrees. I can’t seem to get out any earlier than 8 a.m., missing many of the regulars that have already finished. My times have badly deteriorated, often stumbling at a ridiculously slow pace of over 18 minutes the final mile. I don’t know what to do after shorting the length to 2.1 miles since the beginning of the month. My weight has even dropped to 185 (10 pounds lost) after my wife cut back on buying cookies and other sweet snacks. I can barely stand up after finishing, feeling drained and light-headed. I get in the pool to cool off and strain to get my laps in, breathing hard at each turn. There is something wrong. I’m tired and beginning to feel my age.
I called my cardiologist yesterday but couldn’t get through. I’m supposed to see the surgeon about my aortic aneurysm, even though it has not grown in size. It’s been there for years, carefully monitored. Perhaps, it’s starting to cause fatigue and loss of balance, that has been plaguing me of late. If the recent scans had shown enlargement that would have immediately put me on the table. Oddly, my biggest concern is the interruption of “The Streak” that stands at 5,339 consecutive days as of this morning.
I sat in dark, air-conditioned overload, trying to get through yesterday’s Barbie movie, only to step outside in the grueling heat. I’m drinking lots of fluids in hope that it cools off soon! Not just here in Florida, all over the country we’re seeing record temperatures. Even Portland, Oregon where I ran last month in comfortable conditions is expected to be in the hundreds over the next few days. Fires are destroying beautiful Maui. We need some drizzle to fizzle the sizzle!
