I knew her first as Mrs. Taylor, Lynnda, my best friend’s mother. Then over the years I got permission to call her Jimmy (it seems Mrs. Taylor was her mother-in law!). She was a wonderful lady, full of stories about her father and the Boy Scouts. She glamorized her father in my eyes. Man she built him up, but I thought it was just the ramblings of a proud daughter. Someone who really loved her dad, no problems with that.
Then one sad day this July first I got an email from Lynnda, she was on her way to Missouri where her mother had gone for a speaking engagement at a Boys Scout function, (what else? Scouting was her life) fallen, started bleeding into her brain, went comatose and was only given hours to live. (She actually held on to July 4th, being patriotic she waited till the last firecracker popped before expiring!) That started four days of phone calls back and forth between Lynnda and me. Lynnda even emailed me the newspaper articles about her mother. Apparently her mother was big news in Kansas City. The only daughter and child of H. Roe Bartle. I was impressed. Still, to me, she had always been a wonderful lady, my best friend’s mother. Someone whose table I’d eaten at, whose house I’d spent the night in, who I went to Branson with, who babysat my dogs for me when I went out of town. She was Jimmy. Not just only daughter and child of H. Roe Bartle.
I had to “Google” this guy. There were volumes of hits with his name. Wow. Jimmy’s dad was famous, at least in his part of the country. He was friends of presidents, the FBI, governors…Ect... Ect. He started a Boy Scout tribe in Kansas that is one of a kind, fashioned after our American Indian Heritage. It still bears his name, The H. Roe Bartle Scout Reservation and it hosts thousands of scouts yearly. This guy was like an Apostle Paul impersonator, going about doing good works, and making a difference. His grave can even be viewed on findagrave.com.
Then I got the brainstorm to “Google” Jimmy. My friend’s mother also had her name plastered over the internet. Friend of Scouts. Motivational speaker. Only daughter of H. Roe Bartle. I was learning more about Jimmy Bartle Taylor than I knew when she was alive. Well maybe I‘d heard her mention these things over forty years in small slices and forgotten most of it but now I really researched her family and the scouts. I couldn’t get enough; reading about her brought her back to live. It was a crash course in history. But it all followed on the heels of her death. Why did I have to wait till she died to rediscover and discover all these things? I wish she was here now so I could ask her questions about her dad and about the scouts. Now I have to learn everything myself by reading.
When Lynnda got back home I went to see her. Jimmy’s house was right next door (she had recently bought a double wide trailer and set it on Lynnda’s lot so they could be close to each other) and I asked to walk through it in hopes of feeling her spirit or at the least just walking where she had walked. It had become hallow ground that would never be touched by her feet again. It had become sort of a shrine in my mind; her importance magnified in my imagination. No, she was still Jimmy, my friend, and my friend’s mother. She was very important to me because of who she was. I took two things from her house, mementoes. A bear magnet (it symbolized her tribal name of “Lone Bear Princess,” and another magnet that had a small picture of her in a red hat. Not worth much to anyone, but priceless to me. I’ll place them on my refrigerator so I, won’t forget her, not that that’s possible. Then I sat in Lynnda’s living room and watched a DVD they played at Jimmy’s funeral. From birth to death, there was her life. Awesome. The life of a woman going through life’s developmental stages, rites of passage. Sitting on granny’s lap, going to high school , getting married, having kids, grand kids, great grandkids. A normal woman. My friend. Lynnda’s mother. I was promised a copy. Thank you, Lynnda.
Why is it we learn more about people after they die? At funerals I’ve always discovered things about the honoree that I never knew when they were alive. All this reminds me of a man that lived two thousand years ago. He was someone’s son and friend. He ate with people, traveled with people and slept over at their houses. (I don’t know about babysitting pets?) He was not very famous while he was alive but after he died volumes have been written about him. He can be “Googled” and researched, made larger than life. He spent thirty years as someone’s son, the only son and child of God, the firstborn actually. He was the first Boy Scout, on a mission to build his entourage of twelve. He spent three years going about doing good and making motivational speeches then he died. I bet very little was written about him while he breathed, except maybe on wanted posters. (He still is on wanted posters!) Volumes have been written since. I still research him daily, reading about him in the gospels and epistles. People travel to wear he lived, to walk the hallow grounds his feet had touched. We can’t find his grave on findagrave.com because it’s empty! Sometimes it takes death to get our energy directed on the correct path. If Jimmy hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have spent so much time reading about her, if Jesus hadn’t died (an don’t forget rose again) no one would be interested in reading about him. Do you think he’s worth investigating? Reading about him could bring him back to life, in your heart! Google him and find out what could be a new revelation for you.
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