I knew immediately what the news would be when the telephone rang shortly before 6 on the first truly cold Sunday morning of fall. My wife told me it was Parkway Village calling. My mom, who had been going downhill since a fall earlier this year resulted in her hip being broken in three places, had died at age 90.
I drove quickly to the facility, called my sister and then sat with the body while waiting for the funeral home personnel to arrive from Arkadelphia. During that quiet period of reflection, I thought about her journey and the changes she had seen through the decades. I inherited my love of Arkansas from her. She was born Aug. 21, 1925, to Bess Rex Caskey and W.J. Caskey in the old White River town of Des Arc, a place filled with colorful characters. Her father owned the funeral home and hardware store on Main Street, and she was raised in a big house a couple of blocks away on Erwin Street. My grandfather was also a county elected official, and Mom took trips with him to communities with names like Tollville, Ulm and Beulah.
The Caskeys were staunch Baptists, and Mom would laugh decades later at the memory of the elderly Catholic lady at Slovak who pointed at her and asked in her thick eastern European accent: "Would the child like some wine?" Mom soaked up the traditions and culture of the lower White River region. The First Baptist Church of Des Arc was just across the street from the Caskey home, and my mother would spend hours there. She was at the church practicing with the youth choir for a Christmas concert when word came on that fateful Sunday afternoon that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor. Soon, her three older brothers were out of the country, serving in the armed forces. There were three blue stars in the front window of the Caskey home. It was just my grandparents, my mother and her older sister, listening to the radio each evening for war news and saying a nightly prayer for those who were far from home.
Her brothers were still gone on May 27, 1943, when my mother spoke at her high school graduation. My mom said that day: "Most of us have grown up in a period of world-sweeping events. Most of us are being impressed each day with the fact that we are coming out of school in the most critical period of American history. The far-reaching effects of the present great struggle for renewal of the rights of men is an inspiration for anyone. Deep in the heart of every boy or girl lives an ambition to become great. To study the noble deeds and great advancements of others is to long to do something equally as grand ourselves, and we are inspired with a burning desire for some opportunity for the display of heroism or strength of character. We see how far short we are of what seems necessary to do those things."
Her three brothers graduated from Arkansas Tech. But W.J. Caskey, the Baptist deacon, wanted his girls to go to the Baptist school in Arkadelphia. Mom enrolled at what's now Ouachita Baptist University in the fall of 1943. She excelled in school and after the war met Robert L. "Red" Nelson of Benton, who returned to Ouachita following service in the U.S. Army Air Force. He was a sports star, excelling in football, basketball and baseball. He even set what was then a school basketball record for most points in a game and quarterbacked the football team his senior year. Mom, meanwhile, was named campus beauty. The quarterback and the beauty queen were married on Aug. 11, 1946.
Mom graduated in the spring of 1947 and worked for two Arkadelphia businessmen while my dad finished his senior year. Following Dad's graduation, he was offered the job of head football coach at Newport High School. The young couple headed off to Jackson County, where my mom taught elementary school while Dad coached the Greyhounds. Their first child, Lynda, was born in 1950. After three years at Newport, my father joined his older brother in business at Arkadelphia. The Nelson brothers built Southwest Sporting Goods Co. into one of the region's largest providers of athletic supplies to high school and college teams.
Dad would spend days at a time on the road, calling on high school and college coaches. Mom stayed behind in Arkadelphia to oversee the business and raise her family. A son named Bob was born in 1954. I came along in 1959. The ultimate test of my mother's faith and strength came on Feb. 29, 1964, and in the days, months and years that followed. My parents and Bob were in Pine Bluff to watch a Ouachita basketball game when my brother was run over by a delivery truck. My mother held him as they rushed to the hospital, where he died at age 9. As the father of two sons, I cannot imagine how one could go on after watching a 9-year-old child die. But Mom had my father, my sister and me to care for so she persevered, leaning on her strong Christian faith.
Mom and Dad celebrated their 64th wedding anniversary in 2010. They were a couple in the truest sense of the word. She was never quite the same after my father died on March 3, 2011. Mom would have been embarrassed by a column devoted to her. She was never one to draw attention to herself.
We buried Carolyn Caskey Nelson next to my father and my brother on the morning before Thanksgiving. The next day, with the turkey and dressing on the table, we gave thanks for the life she lived and the example she set. She was a proud daughter of the Arkansas Grand Prairie. I was proud to call her my mom.
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Freelance columnist Rex Nelson is the director of corporate communications for Simmons First National Corp. He's also the author of the Southern Fried blog at rexnelsonsouthernfried.com.
Editorial on 12/02/2015