I don’t remember a time when there wasn’t the Parsley family in my life. We lost a good man in Harold last week. He was the boss of many of my friends who worked at Parsley’s Pullet Parlor.
As soon as Harold, Martha, Kathryne and Lee Lee moved to Rockdale they became good friends with my Mom and Dad. So we were at each other’s houses all the time.
Even before Harold opened the chicken restaurant I remember making mud pies with Kathryne in her backyard. She said we were going to make chicken cacciatore. Foreshadowing maybe.
I know Harold was very proud of both his kids and I’m proud to call them my friends.
Here is a note to Kathryne and Lee Lee from my sister-in-law, Christine, which is more elegant than anything I could write.
—kwc—
Dear Kathryne and Lee and families,
I know you and your family already know how special a man your father was and how much he loved you all. He was proud of you both and your families. His face lit up anytime he talked about you all, his grandkids and family. I am writing to let you know that he was also a special man to many in Rockdale and even those outside of town.
He wasn’t just run of the mill nice but actually kept up with my schooling and cheered me on as I was getting my MFA in creative writing at Texas State University, then followed my career afterward. He was generous with his praise and support. It was one of his many endearing traits.
When I worked at The Reporter in ad sales, I had the Parsley account. Every Tuesday I’d track him down and he was usually tooling around at Texas Fajita. We would spend an hour or so just chatting, something I loved doing. I’d settle into Martha’s place at the drive through and we’d talk about things like black holes, the space time continuum and electroshock therapy. He’d give me book recommendations and make me follow him to his truck so I could take home and listen to cassette tapes he’d recorded that had history lessons, architecture lectures and interviews of philosophers and every one of them were interesting—this was way before Ted Talks.
One time as I was getting ready to leave Texas Fajita, Mr. Parsley said, “Christine, hold on a minute. I’ve got something for you.”
I watched him walk into the freezer and emerge five minutes later (it really did take him a long time) with piece of cardboard that had a thin coat of ice glaze over a Wall Street Journal article that was glued to it. It was a review of one of my professors’ books at Texas State University complete with Mr. P’s scribbles and notes around the margins.
I regret to this day not keeping it. Instead, I gave it to the professor, who was so thrilled and honored to have Mr. P’s critique of his work that it is still hanging on the wall in his office. I told the professor that this review came from the chicken man in Rockdale, one of Milam County’s intellectuals. I told him all about Mr. P, and afterward he was fully enamored with him like I was.
This is just one of many examples/anecdotes I can remember about Mr. P and what a difference he made in my life. Actually, both he and Martha separately and together made a lasting impact on me. I know it wasn’t just my life but many lives that Mr. P impacted. I especially appreciate how he raised his kids and you both have raised your own children to touch people’s lives as well. I walk in this world knowing it’s in good hands with people like the Parsleys in it.
All my best to you and yours,
Christine
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