Hero

My hero -- Willard Cumberland – departed the present physical world yesterday morning (Sunday 3 April 2022) as my wife and I were driving from Houston to San Antonio with his newest grandson Bobby Willard (9mo) to see him.?

I was fortunate to be with my father on Saturday and to thank him, as I have each time that I’ve seen him over the past few years, for his valuable gifts – the life lessons he taught (referenced in a prior post Dad). Foremost among those lessons is the power of a positive attitude.???

My father was a simple, humble, kind man.?In his honor, below I’m sharing one of my Facebook posts from 2015.

I remain an ardent believer in the butterfly effect and that acts of kindness and love reverberate throughout eternity.

Last year, a few weeks before the birth of our son Bobby, I had posted on the topic of death:?Books -- Death & Life &

With love …

Facebook Post of 24 November 2015:

This is my favorite picture of all time.?Upon returning to the US in 1999, I asked my dad for a copy; and since then, I’ve kept it on my desk at work so I can see it frequently.?Besides its simple aesthetics, the image serves as a reminder of a few important messages for me.

The cute boy on the left is my dad – Willard Cumberland – who was born in Philadelphia, Mississippi in 1932.?Until recently, I didn’t know the name of the beautiful girl on the right.?I knew the story behind the picture, but not the name.

This past Sunday, while visiting my dad in San Antonio to have lunch and watch the Cowboys, we rummaged through some old memorabilia and I quizzed him about our past.?Through serendipity, I was able to stumble upon a greeting card that his dear sister (my Aunt Versie) had sent him before she passed away a few years ago.

The greeting card contained an excerpted news clipping from The Neshoba Democrat (the local newspaper for Philadelphia); the precious girl’s name is Iris Jones.

The photo is very special to me because if there was no Iris, there would be no hitchhiking trip by my dad from Philadelphia MS to San Antonio TX, and subsequently, the ensuing meeting of him and Dorothy Beeson (later to become Cumberland) [who through her own set of circumstances was moved from Boston to San Antonio].

So no Iris, no Shawn.?Or, none of my four brothers (Brian, Scott, Wayne and Lance).?Or, no fortuitous, and highly improbable, meeting of my lovely wife Sylva on that precise moment in the historic hotel in Hangzhou.?And, consequently, none of our kids (Alexandra and Nicholas); likewise for my brother’s family; etc. and so on.

My dad recollects that his father (Wheeler Cumberland) was so moved by the event that he tried to adopt Iris and have her move into their house as part of the family.?Yet, dad said her mother didn’t agree (of course).?I have not independently verified whether this account is accurate.?However, I do know that my grandfather had to experience the grief of the loss of an infant son (Urcil); and, later he would lose his teenage son (Hairston) in WWII.

Having discovered Iris’ name, I’ve contacted the local newspaper and my relatives in Mississippi to see if we can contact her or her relatives.?Hope we are successful in that effort.

The photo has served as a reminder of a number major topics for me:?Obviously, how fragile life is.?But also, how one singular event can have such a profound cascading impact on events well into the future (the “butterfly effect,” if you will).?And, finally, the interconnectedness of everything (sometimes in beautiful or ironic way).?More on the last point later.