I came to the program kind of late to the game. I first met Bettye’s husband Doug working with him at the Federal Courthouse in Plano, Texas. Doug would regale me with the goings on at their place, about the deer, coyotes, possums and rabbits which frequented their place which bordered the Corp land on Lake Lewisville in Little Elm. When he would complain about some critter digging up their flower beds or eating through some electrical wiring, I would remind him they lived in a nature preserve and what did they expect?
We struck up a friendship and I was invited out to their place. We walked the pasture and worked in the barn and his workshop. I eventually went along and helped at some of his sound gigs, helped rework the pump house and joined them for supper. There’d be cornbread and chili, spaghetti and some kind of cake or pie. There was always a pot of coffee on and Dr. Pepper in the ice box.
Afterward, we’d sit up on the porch with the fan blowing to keep cool and he and Miss Bettye would tell tall tales of their exploits as volunteer firefighters and Miss Bettye’s days at the school district. They waxed poetic about the “good old days” of their beloved Little Elm or Little Ellum as the old-timers would call it. The town had definitely changed over those years, and not always for the good.
Whenever I was over, Miss Bettye would always bring me back to her sewing room and display her latest work of great big bed spreads or something new for one of the grandkids she cherished. She really went all out on some of those patch-work quilts and bedspreads, some patriotic to just wildly colorful. She loved her family and especially Doug. The feeling was mutual, every day, I recall seeing Doug out the back door of the courthouse on his lunch break, calling Bettye, always referring to her as his “child bride”, checking in with her.
Of course, we all knew Miss Bettye was having medical issues and was having trouble getting around. I recall for the longest time, one of the planks of the porch right in front of the door had broken through and Doug mentioned Bettye had almost tripped over it. I asked him why he hadn’t fixed it. Doug said the boards had all been custom cut and planed for the porch and he didn’t have any replacements. I told him he needed to get that done. Weeks went by and I came over for some project and saw it was still broken but now was a hole in the flooring. I went home and mentioned this to my wife who had met Bettye and was a sewing fan too. She got all upset and said we needed to get that board fixed.
So I told Doug about this at work and told him we were gonna fix that board the following weekend come hell or high water (which, by the way, did occur from time to time in their back yard, you may have seen the pictures). Sure enough, I got there bright and early on Saturday, we made a trip to Lowe’s, (well, we actually had coffee first and strategized on the porch) got us a plank and used his planer to get that board just right. We then screwed that thing down to seal up that gap. Miss Bettye was very appreciative of our efforts. But it was months before he painted it so it continued to stick out like a sore thumb.
We will miss her, I will miss her, the feisty woman with very strong opinions about just about anything and fiercely protective of her family, her home and her land. Woe became the errant city worker, stranger, irresponsible garbage collector or wrong-way driver who came down South Hillside Drive at any time of day.
I know it hasn’t been that long since Doug left us and I’m pretty sure she could have stayed with us a little longer but I’m thinking she just got impatient and just wanted to get back to him sooner than later. Thanks Bettye for including me in your life.
