I have known her for more years than I can count and I admire her wit,
intelligence and ability to comprehend a situation and then share sound
advice. Although she has faced adversity in her life she chooses to live
with a smile on her face, a song in her heart, and twinkling toes that
love to dance. While we were raising children and residing in Richland,
Scott and Arlin looked forward to outings to their house, they have fond
memories of great adventures they shared.
Once they relocated from the family home on the Dawson Road near the
Hill Top, to the big house down from the Stewart Webster Hospital on
Alston Street, it became children-central; there were always adults
there to share a cup of coffee plus great conversation and youngsters
enough to field a baseball team. The stories of the romping and tromping
by those adolescents during the summer are legendary in the history of
There at the manor we hunted ghosts, shared venison dinners, planned the
rest of our life sitting in a rocking chair on that wide front porch
with the painted blue ceiling, and could not imagine living anywhere but
there in the heart of Richland. Mark, Jesse, Mary Elizabeth and Meg have
countless memories to share about those glorious days of their youth.
Mary Jo, Momma Jo, or JoJo, no matter the name you might recognize and
call her, she is a dear, longtime friend, the mother of four grown
children and grandmother of seven. An interesting fact that you might
not know is that her beautiful mother Ms. Mary Worthington, of Lumpkin,
is a former Peanut Queen, and continues to be pretty as a picture.
Mary Jo has always been a thoughtful hostess; one who encourages her
guests to relax, prop-up their feet, and enjoy the visit. If you have
ever been a guest in her home you will want to return, again and again.
An accomplished cook, she is known to bake the best pecan pie
imaginable. In fact, the pecan pie that I declare as a secret family
recipe actually belongs to her family, not mine. I almost forgot to
mention that in Bainbridge Mary Jo is known as the lady who brings the
delicious pound cake.
As time marched on we moved to different locations, labored and
succeeded as Georgia state employees, and watched our adolescents grow
and mature into successful adults. Now, we have been blessed with
wonderful grandchildren that continue to enhance and enrich our lives.
As quintessential baby boomers we have come to appreciate a quiet
afternoon, a delightful novel, a gorgeous sunset, and an outing with a
I cannot explain why this story is titled the one sock wonder, my car is
making a strange noise, and the whistling air conditioner; my dear
friends named it, but I see no reason to clarify the silly designation.
I intend to call it "guess who caught the bridal bouquet at Tori's