Remembering Brenda

0
287

Brenda Gibson Herron was my cousin. My dad was the oldest of eight kids and, if I remember correctly, his sister, Irene, was the next one born. Irene married Charles Gibson and they had one child, a daughter, whom they named Brenda. On my dad’s side, Brenda was the oldest grandchild of William. E. Epps, Sr. and Mary Epps. My dad, William E. Epps, Jr., (“Bill” to his friends and “Junior” to his family) married Kathleen Luster and, about two years after Brenda arrived, I was born. I was the second oldest grandchild and the oldest grandson on my father’s side.

I don’t ever remember Brenda not being in my life. She lived about five miles from our house in the Hillcrest area in a community known as Lynn Garden. Her house was probably a mile or less from the Virginia state line. I spent a lot of weekends at the Gibson home. Her mother, Irene, worked at Joseph’s Music Center in downtown Kingsport, Tenn., and this was important because, as the demo records got to be a little old, she could bring them home. So, Brenda and I spent much of our childhood listening to LP records. The first records that I remember were Johnny Horton and Marty Robbins albums.

As we got a little older, the albums of ballads (one couldn’t really call them “country” back then) gave way to pop and, when the Beatles invaded America, Aunt Irene brought them, all home. We would stay up long past bedtime listening to music and learning the words to almost every song.

Since Brenda was about two years older, I was introduced to some of her circle of friends, especially the girls of the Smith and Fleenor families. I was a rising eighth-grader when Brenda got a brand, spanking-new, just on the market, Ford Mustang. A convertible.

I experienced my first rides in a Mustang and in a convertible that summer! Even though I was a lowly underclassman at Ross N. Robinson Junior High and Brenda and her friends went to Lynn View High School, I was allowed to hang out with them. In fact, one of the older girls and I were … friendly. They were my family away from family.

As we got older, Brenda and I would often sit in the swing in her back yard and talk about nothing in particular and everything in general. We were family, sure enough, but we were also friends. And Charlie and Irene were like a second set of parents. It was a warm home, a loving home, a safe home.

When Charlie died suddenly at home of an unexpected heart attack, it hurt. He was a friendly, strong, gentle bear of a man. One night he went to wash up for dinner. He never came to the table. Irene found him near the bathroom. Years later, she would pass from the scene as well.

Not many years after college graduation, I left Tennessee for Colorado and, then, 35 years ago, for Georgia. Brenda got married, had children, divorced, then came grandchildren, and, after 25 years as a psychiatric transcriptionist, she retired. We didn’t see each other much but the bond remained.

Social media reconnected us and we saw each other’s photos, families, and activities. We texted from time to time and caught up. She had some bouts with illness and asked me to pray for her during those times.

On July 31 she posted a message for a friend on Facebook wishing her a happy birthday. That night she was rushed to the hospital and the next day she was gone. She was 69. She was a life-long member of Ketron Memorial United Methodist Church.

I did some checking the other day and looked through some old 33 1/3 record albums. There, tucked away in a box, was an album of cowboy ballads. The title was “Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs.” The artist was Marty Robbins. AllMusic Review called it “The single most influential album of Western songs in post-World War II American music.” Brenda, knowing it was my favorite album back in those pre-Beatles days, gave it to me to keep while I was still in junior high.

I think I’ll go and buy a turntable, clean up the record a bit, lock my office door, and play it in her honor. I’m sure I can still remember all the words to every song.

[David Epps is the pastor of the Cathedral of Christ the King, Sharpsburg, GA between Newnan and Peachtree City. He is the bishop of the Charismatic Episcopal Diocese of the Mid-South which consists of Georgia and Tennessee and the Associate Endorser for the Department of the Armed Forces, U. S. Military Chaplains, ICCEC. He may contacted at bishopdavidepps@gmail.com.]