Remembering the Light in the Life of Doris Helene White Soares (1957 - 2024)

Attorney Doris Helene White Soares found that her homegoing would be during the Thanksgiving holiday period of 2024. At the age of 67, she was 33 years short of her ultimate goal of living to age 100, a goal she often reminded people was hers. It wasn’t because her mother, Lois Cooper White, had lived 99 years, just four months shy of her 100th that Doris had that as her goal.

She was simply one to note benchmarks of time in even numbers and she liked the concept of what life would look like in the year 2057.

In her lifetime, Doris managed to do what all southern women and mothers of other strong southern women want for their daughters—to shoot for the moon and reach it. Doris was brought up with a love for books, good writing, impeccable spelling, decorum, Southern manners, faith in God, church worship, respect for elders, an appreciation for one’s family roots, a study of her heritage, and one gently charming stubborn streak that powered her to get past barriers, subtle and substantial alike.

We met in 1970, as she was one of 11 students who would cause Keystone School’s 9th grade class to actually have to span six pages of the yearbook that year, as the usually small class sizes experienced a giant growth streak.

In the 1970-71 year alone, Keystone students who were destined for the “best” colleges around the country faced challenges of their own as the waning days of the summer of love, flower power, and the general transition from AM radio to the more unchartered waters of FM broadcasts marked a time in music where you’d find Dean Martin, Motown, The Beatles (at the height of their scraggly look, transcendental meditation and mountaintop contemplations abounding), The Buckinghams, Neil Young, and a few Canadian upstarts including Joni Mitchell were about to hit radio gold.

Doris entered Keystone with a bang. Our multicultural enrollment was real, but small, but then, again, the Class of ’73 had 10 people, the Class of ’75 had 11 people, and here we were, the Class of ’74 with 32 people. Diversity wasn’t just for statistics; it was for real, and it didn’t need to be “practiced.” It was who we all were, a happy little microcosm of people who were meant to be family for the rest of our lives. Naturally there were disagreements at times, but they were healthy, educational, and often funny or peppered enough with humor to make them a learning experience.

Keystone was not a nerd academy; it was a social experiment of understanding, goal-setting, intense study, relentless pursuit of knowledge simply because you were interested in it, and then, a safe place to be smart without ridicule. Most of all, we tried to be kind to one another, despite our similarities and differences. That was basically all you could ask for in the fall and spring of the early 1970s. Politics was as interesting then as it is today, and we all held strong opinions, which were safe to express without fear of retribution or persecution from our superiors, unlike today’s more volatile environment.

In school, Doris was not a fan of science; she preferred history, English, writing, and she tolerated with grace those who were attempting athletic prowess on the basketball court, because she was an avid cheerleader who knew how to get a crowd going. She fit in easily, but it’s more likely that she managed to project a level of ease where there was none.

Her younger cousin, Trena, had been at Keystone from early elementary days, but Doris also had an older sister, Lois Diane, who graduated from San Antonio Edison High School the same year Doris graduated from Keystone. They were devoted to one another; in 2003, Lois Diane was visiting Doris in Massachusetts when she passed away from cardiac complications in her sleep at the age of 47.

Lois Diane White

Keystone’s junior and senior proms were important benchmarks and Doris kept good photographs and scrapbooks of those rites of passage as well as our high school graduation ceremony, and shared those in our school alumni postings on Facebook.

Elizabeth Lee Newman Easterlin and Lois Diane White

Prom 1973, Doris and escort Rickey Allen

Brenda Chin Chan

Pam Benzaquen Kilgore, '74 who graduated early in 1973, and Dawn Lee Wakefield

Mr. Boling, Elizabeth Boling and Kathy Johnson

Doris' high school senior picture, May 1974, Keystone School, San Antonio, Texas

More than a supporter of HBCUs, Doris’ mother Lois was an alum of Paul Quinn College in Waco, Lois Diane had enrolled at Tuskegee Institute in Alabama right out of high school, son Stephen Cooper was active (in basketball and academics) at Hampton University in Virginia, and daughter Leigh Alexandra did her doctoral research on HBCUs as her research topic. Doris’ father, Leevester, was a mortician, an avid sports fan and music lover, whose primary career was in civil service working for the U.S. Post Office. She described him as “The best man in the whole USA.”

Proud daddy with his girls.

Fittingly, the man she married, jazz bandleader and extraordinary musician, Steven Soares, was the very next best man in her life and they were indeed a perfect match for one another. Grandson Miles Henry rounded out her family and lit up all of their collective lives.

For college, Doris chose Central State University, an HBCU school in Wilberforce, Ohio. She sailed through the academics and social parts of school with grace and ease and was an active soror in Delta Sigma Theta sorority (DST) all of her life, starting with Central State.

Ever a force for good, it surprised no one that Doris would be an attorney in her postcollegiate profession. She represented the Commonwealth of Massachusetts as an Assistant Attorney General in her professional career. Over the years, Keystone reunions would draw most of the 21 of us who graduated in 1974 back to the San Antonio campus built of old Victorian mansions for class-organized reunions in 1985, 1990, 1994, 2014, 2018, and 2024.

1994 Gathering of Keystone alumni, Emily Morgan Hotel, San Antonio, Texas

(Front L to R) Gloria Muro Shaw'74, M.S. (deceased), Dr. Luke Dones'75, Dr. Jack Kent '73, Prof. and Dean Elizabeth Boling '74, Elizabeth Lee Newman Easterlin '74 M.S. (deceased), Doris Helene White Soares, JD '74 (deceased); (Back L to R) Dr. Burton G. Shaw, Jr. '75 (deceased), Dr. Bernard B. Beard '75 (deceased), Dr. Richard P. Meinig '75, Ross A. (Buddy) Logan '74, Dr. Charles V. Mobbs '74.

Doris managed to get to most of these reunions, despite the distance from her home in Boston. Roots and tradition were important to her, plus her mother and sister still lived in San Antonio. Steven Cooper was barely 3 months old when I first met and got to hold him for the first time. Doris made being a wife and mother of two and practicing attorney look as easy as anything. Naturally, it was not.

Steven Cooper Soares and Leigh Alexandra Soares

Alumni reunion weekend, 2014, Keystone School

2018 reunion, Doris Soares, Kathy Johnson, and Mary Newell Pape

In recent years Doris relocated her family and returned to San Antonio as home base to provide oversight and gentle care of her beloved mother, Lois, who lived to age 99, and resided finally in the most exquisite of senior living communities under Doris' perfect supervision. She composed and delivered the most beautiful tribute to her mother when the time came, showing her strength above personal loss.

Mrs. Lois White

It seemed she had only five minutes between losing her mother and a diagnosis of her own cancer. Talk about unfair. She didn't ever turn her sorrow or pity inward. She was too much a fighter for that. In between battling chemotherapy she was a fierce force for the San Antonio chapter of DST Alumnae, and she continued mentoring other young women with hopes and dreams while setting an example for her own family on how to cope with life in faith.

In April this year, thanks to Doris’ insistence on the Class of ’74 doing "something" to mark the occasion of the 50th year since graduation, Karen Cheyney'76 made it happen. They toured the campus and were popular attendees in classes of present-day students who quizzed the seasoned alums about the “old days” of how things used to be.

Pictured from April is our beloved Doris, surrounded by our adored "Mrs. M" (Judy Moczygemba), Stephen Cheyney, Karen Cheyney, David Cheyney, Keystone Headmaster Dr. Billy Handmaker, Doris, Charles Mobbs, and Luke Dones.

Doris had been an honored guest in previous years as well on alumni day and inspired more than a few students to achieve dreams, set goals, and work like all get out, relentlessly to reach them, and then to be humble and modest. It's not every Keystonian who can say that they interviewed Alex Haley for the school newspaper when they were a senior in high school. Doris could, and did.

In a perfect world, no one battles cancer alone. Her Keystone family supported Doris with love, communications, and prayers as a strong constituent group that fell in line somewhere in 37th place behind other groups of those who love Doris. Her family was her core group, her faith in God and lifetime of worship gave her strength to develop her motto and mantra, “Armor on, prayers up, Let’s Go!”

The Soares family, son-in-law Marcus Parker, Doris, Miles Henry, Steven, Dr. Leigh, and Steven Cooper

Her DST sisters, her fellow barristers, her friends from childhood forward, her Jack and Jill alumni, and later parent alumni, on and on, everyone loved Doris.

Read and see Doris’ own words here:

Cervivor Podcast https://www.facebook.com/cervivor/videos/410050134759406

Knowledge + advocacy = survival. The real deal: Black patients have lower survival rates for most cancers, if not all....

In a communication where she was reviewing the list of people (so far at that time) who’d passed away among our group, here’s what she said 9 years ago:

Doris Soares: "Just reading this list (thanks for the link, Dawn Lee). How sad to recall all the changes in the past 41 years since I bid farewell to Keystone. Know that the names and faces of everyone who made up my world there for high school never fade---get blurry, maybe, but never disappear."

True enough, Doris…you are always a permanent part of our happiest memories.

So, today as we sit here we are reminded that if you were active in the faith that Doris had, she believed in God’s perfect timing and plan for all his children, in the hereafter where you are reunited with those who have gone ahead of you and even if you’re not of that mindset, you just know that somewhere in a garden of goodness, where there is love, there is Doris.

For all who believe and count on eternity, a new cheerleader has arrived on the scene, bustling with energy, filled with joy, and 1,212 good ideas. Put her to work, Lord, and when you can spare her a little, please help us by having her keep an eye out on all of us. We could use the backup.

Doris, it was a privilege to know you and call you my fellow Cobra and I thank you for all the shared memories of important times we had. And, for your homegoing soundtrack, let's revisit those happy times where we all had...Pieces of April to hold onto.

Love, Dawn Lee

Here are some of Doris’ writings about her navigation of her journey with cancer. She never fails to acknowledge her core team: husband Steven, daughter Leigh and son Steven Cooper, aka “The best cancer posse in the galaxy” and her “first line of defense.”

https://www.curetoday.com/authors/doris-helene-white

You’ll see photos of Doris on her journey and some of her reflections in her own handwriting.

https://cervivor.org/tag/doris-helene-white/ In her own words:

“This journal is so much more than frequently illegible cursive words. No, these pages are quite often a battle cry, this warrior’s call to arms against the most unexpected enemy: her own cells. These pages are like an old-timey, gutbucket, blues chart from backwoods juke joint—a full-throated, belly-wail of agony and joy, growled by one who knows the score (literally and figuratively) and ain’t afraid to tell you all about it. And, always, always, that hard-cover book is my hymnal, sketching lines of praise to Him in Whose armor I outfit myself every day. This little unassuming book contains uniquely metered lyrics of love and faith and strength.

I will write my way out of this Egypt. The inked lines will chart the path to my Red Sea….”

As a final reminder, she took her civic duty seriously ALL of her life. She voted early in the 2024 election, just to make sure. This photo, while not looking anything like the Doris we know, love, and remember, is one I cherish just as much as any of the others. She did it her way!

With ever an eye on the future...Doris will be watching over, and listening carefully to the arpeggios and allegros of young Miles Henry...the future looks bright!

The Healing Heart and Hands of Marcy Halterman-Cox, D.C.

This following collection of memories is written because my heart is broken at the loss of a precious friend, Marcy Halterman. We’d been friends for almost 40 years since she moved here, and yet we didn’t have time in our worlds to hang out as I'd have liked, as our lives went so many directions.

Still, the predictability of my back requiring adjustments kept Marcy and I in semi-regular contact until she eventually had to quit working on me, but even then, she gifted me with two others who are mine today to see me through.

To anyone who has lived in the Brazos Valley, who arrived from somewhere else, you know for certain that a community is blessed when you have medical and health professionals who embrace the field of healing, as not simply confined to those with M.D. and D.O. and other initials following their names. In Bryan-College Station for over five decades now, we have been a community abundant in healing professionals. And fortunately, many of these professionals willingly and openly recommend healing professionals as making valuable contributions to a person’s well-being as part of a caring medical team.

Marcy Halterman was distinguished and qualified in several areas. It was never that she was a professional student. She simply loved learning, reading, discussing, exploring, and wanting to know more about how she could help others on her journey here.

We first met in the office of the late Dr. Kevin Schachterle, my original chiropractor here. Kevin introduced me to Marcy with a glowing but gruff description—"if I’m not here, she will take just as good care of you as I do.” Marcy and I both burst out laughing.

I asked him, “Did you warn her about me, that I try to do my own adjustments first and then come crawling in here to put me back together?” He smiled knowingly and I figured he had. Still a young man, Kevin was delighted at the prospect of business continuing while he hacked around 18 holes at Pebble Creek.

In our first adjustment session, Marcy and I found out just how much we had in common. Birthdays close together, a lifetime appreciation of music, love of reading good books, a great shared sense of humor and relying on chiropractic, virtually all of my life (another story for another time).

Over the years, we were both still in school, graduate school for both of us, and she gave great adjustments. Besides Kevin, Marcy was the only one I’d ever let work on me.

During our sessions I learned over the years that she had become a certified yoga trainer, and she was constantly interested in learning new things. While she did that, she figured she’d challenge herself to master the profession and that’s where a one-shot appearance as a lawyer’s witness in a personal injury case piqued her fascination with the law and she earned her law degree at night from South Texas College of Law in Houston.

Later on, when I had need of discussing a legal topic, I discussed it with her and found her amazingly proficient. When Texas A&M’s School of Rural Public Health came into being, she thought that was brilliant and ultimately earned her M.S. in Public Health.

She was self-deprecating about her additional credentials, but I urged her not to be and not to apologize for simply wanting to know more and then have the credit for spending the time and making the effort.

It would be a while before Marcy met the man of her dreams, Russell Cox, and they were a terrific team. Adding children to their family was beautiful as they are both compassionate caring people, perfect to be parents. I had the distinct pleasure of meeting her dad when he came to town one year to visit his daughter. I was lucky enough to have him give me a few adjustments “old school” and they were exactly like the ones my original hometown chiropractor used. Marcy had the same gifts.

Long before the TENS units were ever invented or before the massage guns were thought up, there was a simple technique using your hands (and elbows) to go up and down your spine and release the calcium that had collected there and allowed the muscles to knot up and nerve endings to yell.

Ultimately because business relied on the number of patients you could see in a day, chiropractors began adding massage therapists to their referral list or brought them on in their offices to get your body ready for an adjustment that would last a lot longer than your not having the vertebrae ready to relocate.

If you’ve never had a chiropractic adjustment before, there’s nothing to fear and it feels better, not worse, after you’ve had it. If you know, you know how helpful it can be. Going from nerves on end to calm and relaxed is worth an adjustment, bigtime.

Marcy never yelled at me for waiting too long to come see her; she was so patient, fun, and we really enjoyed our sessions, sharing good news about mutual friends or catching up on life progress each time. She had great regard and respect for our community’s aestheticians, massage therapists, and fellow chiropractors.

One day life changed for both of us, in ways we never expected it would. Sadly, Kevin Schachterle suffered a debilitating heart attack at age 48 (or so) and he was in the hospital with not much time expected. She called me and said, “Now’s a good time for us to go up there if we want to say goodbye.” We met up there and went in the room and gave him a good rendition of what it was like when we were all at his clinic in College Station. Telling stories, laughing, and remembering when. Kevin laid there unresponsive, but we liked to think he could hear us.

We sat together at his funeral, mostly in disbelief as he was only 48 years old; he had so much left to live for, a loving companion and her daughters, and brothers and mother in Iowa…and now it was all gone. Although a formal funeral was slated for Iowa, the family held one here in town at the funeral home for local friends to pay repects.

It was indeed well attended but the minister who officiated struggled a little to realize that his middle name was Gene, so it was not his first name. The minister kept referring to him as “Gene,” and Marcy and I kept elbowing one another in disbelief. You’d have to know Kevin to know he’d have found that hilarious.

Well, he found a way to let us know. As the minister went on about the things written in the obituary, we noticed that there was a little music coming from up near the front of the room. Kevin’s sweetheart had placed a little automated bear that beat a cymbal and danced a little on top of the piano there near where his photo was displayed.

Without anyone touching or moving anything near it, the bear just all of a sudden came “to life,” and started whirring and twirling on the top of the piano and the gentle snickers in the audience came to life with laughter and it was a great break in an otherwise solemn, blue occasion. After it was over, I specifically told Marcy, may our names always be known, even to strangers, so they get it right at our funerals!

Subconsciously that day I determined to be more involved in “getting things right in funerals,” as a dear friend asked me to help her get an obituary written for a loved one. That was the beginning of my frequent trips to Callaway-Jones to take them copies of tributes I’d written for what became a large group of parents of my friends, hand-carried before I owned a fax and had only a typewriter.

Through the years and the adjustments were the only times we had to carve out time to share what was exciting and important in our lives at the time. She listened, we laughed, we planned, and we encouraged one another to keep striving for what was possible in our respective careers.

Eventually Marcy had cofounded a chiropractic clinic that changed locations and personnel a few times but at each point along the way, she affiliated with individuals who possessed that same determination to heal, encourage, and instruct patients on being good to themselves, to put themselves as a priority for care. She (and they) held space for us until we had time to do that ourselves.

Marcy was a lifelong learner, not a professional student, and every time something interested her, she studied it and went all-in to earn credentials for the field. She was a lovely young woman, outstanding personality, never met a stranger, and kind. She was selective though about those in her world. One day she spoke of “Russell” and her faced glowed.

I knew he was “the one,” and she had truly found her soulmate, one who cherished her and created a world where they flourished together. Then came the addition of Aine and Eva and their world was perfect.

Russell’s work at the Cancer Clinic and Marcy’s at College Station Chiropractic encompassed a “world” of healing in our community that is unparalleled. One glance at the Callaway-Jones guest book proves up that statement.

Beyond her office, you could often find Marcy out and about in the community as a volunteer who loved and supported the arts—from the Arts Council of the Brazos Valley, to the Brazos Valley Symphony Orchestra, to the American Heart Association and Hospice of Brazos Valley, she supported the organizations that benefited our community with her gifts of time, talents, and resources, but did so very modestly.

Another of our mutual friends was quite a dynamo in the world of the arts and despite her senior age (at the time we were veritable youngsters comparatively), we marveled at her ability to keep on going like the “Energizer Bunny.”

It mystified both of us as anyone else would have simply stopped being so giving of their time when they were undergoing several health challenges as she had been. She was a role model for us, unquestionably and the three of us would occasionally check-in for news of the other.

Another turning point came in my world when our mentor died unexpectedly and had made no plans for any arrangements, nor had her husband. I was at my desk one morning when the doorbell rang and it was our local JP, telling me I’d be receiving a call shortly as he had heard that I was going to be making all the arrangements for our friend’s funeral.

He’d heard that conversation when he was officiating at their home. Sure enough, my phone rang, and it seemed that (despite my not having seen our dear friends in over a year), the husband decided I’d know exactly what to do to plan her funeral and create two separate services for local and out-of-town friends.

Since someone else had that much faith in me to do what I’d only done once before, I went ahead and did it. Marcy attended one of the services and we were both bemused that I was chosen to fill this special role. I said, “Well, it’s different than Kevin’s service for sure!” We smiled.

Life changed and yet life was consistent. I’d been busy in my church and Marcy and her family were delighted in their church home and being a family. Each time she showed me the latest pictures of the girls, I marveled at how she was able to “do it all,” and make it look easy. That was on par for a Cancer crab; her birthday was July 9th, just 66 fast years ago.

We never discussed her health challenges in all the years I knew her. The time came when she could no longer work on me as she had some unspecified (to me) condition where she was not as strong as usual. Happy to just see her and visit in the hallway, I received my adjustments from her colleagues, who now have their own practices, and we’d catch up in between.

She’d been active in yoga and had been teaching sessions at local facilities and was always interested in the whole-body healing and treatment. She then became interested in rural public health, in nursing in general, and cupping, as just three areas of interest. By finding treatment areas where she could remain active, Marcy was always at full speed, it seemed.

It’s not “alternative” medicine, I am describing. Rather, it is a healing nature of individuals who study the body, the mind, the heart, and the interactions of our central nervous systems, the endocrinology, interworkings of the various organs, and the most powerful central processing centers of all, our minds and hearts. Put them together and you have the human body in one neat package.

Fast forward to Hospice Happening a few years ago; it was there that she told me, finally, that she was recuperating from battling cancer. Her attitude was lovely; she smiled brightly, and projected both bravery and the faith in God that kept her steadfast all of her life.

I wanted to cry to think she’d battled that disease without my knowing it. That’s ego talking, but I would have at least wanted to offer more prayers in her behalf, if only to reciprocate the level of care and compassion she’d shown me as her patient. Or at least a chance to thank her for a friendship I had cherished all these years. Somehow I thought there would still be plenty of time for that.

Again, I’m only one of longevity rather than daily contact. Yet, everyone who was Marcy’s patient can attest to that feeling of close, dear friend that she made each of us feel irreplaceable in her world and in her heart.

She was able to keep up with life for all of our worlds, and she asked for nothing in return. About a month ago, a memory of something came up and she was on my mind again. I called her clinic and asked to speak with her. The receptionist indicated that she wasn’t there, and she was not seeing patients right now.

That confirmed my worst fear. The cancer would not let go. Those born under the Zodiac sign of Cancer are by nature lovers of family, spiritually driven, dedicated to healing when they can, and devoted friends.

The “moon child” is often in tune with the people and their surroundings to be able to have great empathy. With a strong sense of humor and a positive attitude, the idea of new challenges to conquer always presents an exciting opportunity to those born under the sign of the crab.

Thinking how we lost Marcy on Friday, followed on Saturday by Rhodes Scholar Kris Kristofferson, led me to think of one of his greatest movie roles in “A Star Is Born.” And, in that movie is a Paul Williams-Kenny Asher composition that somehow captures the spirit and heart of Marcy Halterman-Cox. Appropriately titled, it seemed custom made for her, it’s called “The Woman in the Moon.” Farewell for now, Marcy; keep shining your light and guiding us on our paths and thank you for so often showing us the way.

"Only in Iola" Kickoff Celebration Includes Ms. Mary Lee Crocker Parnell as Featured Poet

[Third in a 3-part series]

“Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams fly, life is a broken wing bird that cannot fly.” ~~ Langston Hughes, “Dreams,” 1923

On Saturday, May 4, another in a previously unimagined series of dreams came true for octogenarian poet, Ms. Mary Lee Crocker Parnell, on Main Street in Iola, Texas, some 85 years after her serendipitous arrival in town, as an adopted 3-year-old, chosen by a woman who worked hard to give the little one a good home and much love that would last her a lifetime.

Often, we have no idea what our choices today can mean 20, 40, or even 80 years from now. That one gift of love has been regenerated thousands of times ever since that day.

“Home” for Ms. Mary Lee began in Iola, a town of 330 in Texas’ scenic Brazos Valley, sort of halfway in between Dallas and Houston, if you navigate a few curvy farm-to-market roads.

Her mother bought the local hotel and ran it and the restaurant, and Mary Lee loved being there until she was a young adult who left home to marry at age 17. Through the years, she’d still find time to come back and visit.

Currently, the recent widow is a resident in a Bryan nursing community, having moved from North Zulch where her favorite church there still maintains a vital presence in her daily and weekly prayer life through the kindnesses and thoughtfulness of its membership.

As you’re already aware, today Ms. Mary Lee is a published poet and author with two volumes to her credit, thanks to her team of friends and admirers from Sand Prairie Baptist Church. Before the event, Ms. Mary Lee was joined by beloved friends Beth Ganza, Marcia Odom, Sherrie Magness and Richard Ward (photographer) at Mallett Bros. BBQ for the special occasion.

The gentle notoriety and delightful affirmations Ms. Mary Lee received at a special occasion at the church in 2022 were sufficient to last forever, but thanks to Ms. Betty Sue Wooderson Moore, who grew up in Iola, she mentioned to Shanalee and show producer Tammy Corwin, of WMP Multi-Media Network, that they really needed to meet Ms. Mary Lee as one of Iola’s true gems among their history.

That meeting took place in April, 2024, and Shanalee interviewed her on camera, providing thoughtful questions and allowing generous time for responses. Others interviewed in that same time frame —The Matriarchs—include Robin Trant Johnson of Rubye Jewels; Laura Parunak Cole of Crazy Horse Upholstery (a former U.S. Army Apache pilot); Betty Sue Wooderson Moore, who spent every summer of her childhood growing up there; Rita Marie Marczewski, who was born in Chicago but was delighted to find Iola as quickly as she could; Rita’s daughter, Cheyenne Hyman, who has lived in Iola her entire 21 years so far; and of course, Ms. Mary Lee.

One chair was left empty for former Iola resident Nelda Mccollum, who Shanalee said took her under her wing and made her feel as though she’d always belonged at home in Iola. Mrs. Mccollum died before the show’s debut, so there was an empty chair on the set to keep her place there.

The kickoff party was held during magnificent (and sweltering) sunshiny breaks in a rainy weekend where flooded roads had receded sufficiently to allow traffic into and out of Iola exactly when it needed to be. Close to 100 people attended to meet the crew, husband and wife directors Jens and Nateila Delport and assistant director Jonathan Pietrykowski. Everyone came away with a signed poster and appreciative smiles.

That afternoon they showed clips of episode one, generating a sweet sense of gentle pride in their hometown that will endure long after 2024.

And then inside the Mercantile at Main Street Market, Shanalee invited attendees to gather around so that Ms. Mary Lee could recite one of her poems, “A Vision of My Heavenly Home,” which she says came to her in two segments two years apart, the first eight lines having been given her from the Lord in June 2017, and the final two lines came to her out of the blue in July 2018 (Vol. 2, pp. 19-20, “Down Through The Years in Poetry,” Vol. 2). You can enjoy that moment on this YouTube video.

It sounds simple to say, but the reality is knowing and trusting that a poem will become complete when you feel it truly is complete and to be able to wait 13 months for how it should end to arrive in front of you is a journey of faith on its own.

The concept of a Christian poet being able to proceed in faith to compose works that pay tribute to that person’s faith are special but not extraordinary. The story of Mary Lee Crocker Parnell’s life prior to her having her dream come true—to be a published author and poet—is absolutely astounding.

No part of Mary Lee’s early life and childhood would indicate she was bound for a weekend like this one. In fact, what she might expect, all things being equal, was an ordinary, calm life of slight routine. A happy life in fact, but nothing extraordinary. And yet, her faith in God is what made the difference.

People who seek to read works of faith are frequently searching for affirmation, encouragement, and inspiration to hold on and deepen one’s own spirituality, particularly in daily life challenges we encounter. Frequently in our daily pathway, when our progress is blocked or our route is detoured, despite our best efforts or intent, we search for writings that meet us where our pain and fear live.

Ms. Mary Lee’s words resonate so well with people who’ve had the chance to proceed, anchored in faith, and just need a bit of bolstering from time to time. And yet, this woman has, statistically speaking, so many personal disappointments and health challenges that no one should expect her standing up and moving forth to serve as a paragon of strength, and yet, here she is, as a beacon of faith.

We all know some senior citizens who can give you 12 fast examples of how they are experiencing pain, isolation, abandonment, fear, loss, or inconvenience as their body begins to rebel against their best intentions. It’s normal, natural, and to be expected to be aware of our losses. Maybe it’s how we take the chance to be uplifted when good things happen, to distinguish how today is better than yesterday or vice versa.

And then, there’s Ms. Mary Lee, whose trademark smile could light up a city block. When she sees you have come to visit her, there’s such an amazing countenance about her that bespeaks her appreciation for your taking the time from your schedule to be there with her.

She registers her delight with an adorable lilt in her voice as she exclaims her trademark phrase, “Oh, my goodness!” that brings an instant smile the moment you hear it.

For the kickoff event, Ms. Mary Lee was driven from Bryan to the event by longtime family friend Richard Ward (partially hidden behind the camera), who also brought Marcia Odom and Beth Ganza, dear friends from Sand Prairie Baptist Church and fellow church member Sherrie Magness drove over for the occasion. Ms. Mary Lee is a beloved octogenarian—and the Sharboneau family treated her with such beautiful grace and dignity that it was so heartwarming to witness.

One last thing to consider—for two days prior to the event and for at least another day following the kickoff, severe thunderstorm, flooded out, impassable roads, and accidents that rerouted several usual travel pathways ceased long enough for planes to arrive with out-of-town special guests among the show’s directorial and production team. And as if on cue, the sun broke through and dried things off and allowed event organizers to place sufficient plywood down to keep special guests and the crowd out of mud damage…only in Iola, right?

In the preview of the episode of “Only in Iola” in which she is slated to be included during Season 1, her episode is called “The Matriarchs.” A sneak preview, shown during the kickoff party special event, notes Ms. Mary Lee’s philosophy on aging gracefully and what and how she would like her legacy to be.

After just a moment’s thought, when Shanalee asked Ms. Mary Lee about what she would like to be remembered for or about, Ms. Mary Lee said, “I’m grateful I’m still here. I know Jesus and I’m going go my heavenly home one day when it is time. I love to help people and whatever I can do to help anyone, I want to do.”

Continuing, Ms. Mary Lee said, “People in nursing homes can get so lonely. I’ve always cared about people, and I see every day where people who live where I do can get so excited when someone comes to see them. The residents of nursing homes need people who love other people to come and visit them there.”

In concluding, one of the matriarchs of Iola had this to add: “One mission we have on Earth is to tell others about Jesus’ love for us and how he gave His life for our salvation, and that one day we will all be together in Heaven. That’s what I am trying to do in my poetry: share the good news.”

You can get copies of Ms. Mary Lee’s poems for yourself or others in person in Iola at both Rubye Jewels (7221 Main St.) and the Mercantile at Main Street Market (7216 Main Street), and if you’re out of town, the Mercantile is the exclusive sales outlet to order them by mail. For info, reach out to Dawn Link at MercantileMainSt.TX@gmail.com

The first episode of “Only in Iola” debuted on Thursday, May 4th (it’s available at any time that day on demand and then going forward).

"To watch the show on your Roku channel, show producers recommend the following steps from their Facebook page:

⁃ Search for "ONLY IN IOLA NETWORK on the Roku Channel Store.

- Add the channel to your Roku device.

- That's it! You're ready to catch all the action.

For added guidance see the a 2-step photo to aid in the Roku app search

If you’ve tried before to watch on your Amazon Fire Stick, and there was a glitch, show producers recommend the following steps from their Facebook page:

1. Uninstall the Only In Iola Channel from your Fire device.

2. Delete channel from your cloud.

3. Search Only in Iola and download the NEW channel that will show a date of May 10th.

4. Open channel and you will see the new navigation options. Episode 1 is in the season one section." [Info from the Facebook page for "Only in Iola."]

New episodes drop each Thursday; a second episode drops Thursday, May 16th. All episodes remain on the site in case you miss out on checking in on Thursdays.

Tune in and be uplifted. You’ll be glad you did. Congratulations and well done to the Sharboneau family for relocating to fulfill their goal to reprioritize their lives: God. Family. Texas.

Special thanks to Richard Ward for sharing his lovely photos of Ms. Mary Lee and her contingent of dear friends.

Related Posts:

"A Journey of Faith in Verse with Ms. Mary Lee Crocker Parnell," click here.

"Dreams Come True: Ms. Mary Lee’s Book of Poems," click here.

Review of “Only in Iola” Delivers Quality Content with Gentle Humor, Destined to Build Audiences," click here.

“Only in Iola” Delivers Quality Content with Gentle Humor, Destined to Build Audiences

As promised, the “Only in Iola” channel launched its first episode of the series, “Ladies First” on the Roku and Amazon Fire Channels on time, this morning in fact. And I was one of those early viewers who didn’t want to waste a minute before beginning the 43-minute journey that would show the abrupt lifestyle change of the Sharboneau family from Austin’s hill country to Iola’s rural flatland beauty.

Those who live in the seven-counties that make up the Brazos Valley already know why people would choose simple country living as a stress-free alternative to keeping pace with what Houston society journalist Maxine Messinger used to call the “zum zum gang.” It’s all about what’s important to you, at the time, and father, Perry, announced his intention to lead his family into a scaled-down, less complex life. The benefits of slowing it down don’t need listing. It's always a smart move to take charge of who and what is in charge of your schedule.

What does need stating at the outset is that this family is serious about the changes they’ve made. Looks like they didn’t have a Plan B, nor where they just one boot (or Jimmy Choo stiletto) in—they were committed. It’s not "Green Acres"; it’s reality TV and every one of you who gets the eggs from the chickens in the morning or milks the cows, or who had to repair fence and retrieve errant livestock who knock down the gentle barriers between properties can relate.

Now, not everyone can call up and order a barndominium that’s two months on backorder and seemingly skip through the time delay, but you have to accept the benefits of power that come alongside prior business success. That said, every major decision in the family is made based on faith and every positive outcome is given thanks in what is a, for many, comfortable story of genuine faith.

The filming, angles, sound, and lighting are strong, and storytelling moves professionally, as good as or better than standard broadcast channel reality series, and far more interesting. The show has an official soundtrack, “Every Small Town,” by singer/songwriter Chris Chitsey (who is featured in episode 6 of Season 1, due to premiere Jun. 13, 2024).

Today’s season and show premiere is "Ladies First," subtly focused around Shanalee’s lesson to her son to always walk behind the woman rather than take off walking far ahead, leaving her in his wake. That is a charming, subtle look a parenting and what it takes to raise a man of impeccable manners, no matter where you call home.

Shanalee doesn’t mind getting dirty, literally, in her focus on finding the right look for country living. She’s slow to give up her beloved collection of dress shoes and functional wear (everywoman, anywhere) but she draws the line at destroying the Jimmy Choo’s. I might have considered donating the shoes to charity for a nonprofit but that’s not good TV. A flaming fire pit works better, every day. Bottom line is that the intro episode is your only chance, for now, to meet her, but the way I see it, you’re going to like and respect her immediately and want to get to know her better. Takes a woman of great humor to enter her new upgraded residence only to find two donkeys and three goats have already made themselves at home, much to her chagrin. She remains calm and calls for Brayden to redirect the errant livestock, which he does willingly.

Brayden is kind, intelligent, and has a path to travel that is still his to carve out, with many interesting opportunities around him. He’s a McAuliffe, as well, and has Irish Norse roots, hence his willingness to be a hunter. The cameras are something he seems successful at taking in stride but not every young teen would be up to the task. Early in the program at dinner with his parents and grandparents, he is perfectly comfortable and familiar with fine dining but his parents remind him to remove his earphones that allow him to engage with his phone, and to remember that in-person contact is primary, especially with family time.

Perry has the quintessential poker face in all dealings; he only had one tell that revealed his big heart—after Shanalee reached her tipping point on farm living, he whipped out his phone and made it happen because “Mama wants this” and then the voice of Capt. Picard comes lilting in with “Make it so.” Time will share more of his m.o. and decision style. He does win major hero points for being the one Shanalee asks to be in charge of mouse removal when one is discovered.

Merchandising and sponsorship and product placement are useful, wise, and respectful; taking care of the people who take care of you is a good policy every business day. What’s fun is that you can get your souvenir merch right now at the Mercantile at Main St. Market in Iola. Their store’s website is up and running here.

Of special note: Dawn Link at The Mercantile at Main St. Market is the exclusive Internet dealer for both of Ms. Mary Lee’s poetry books and they have them in stock but can also send (autographed copies) anywhere in the United States.

While you’re there, immerse yourself in some of the most wonderful surroundings that owner Dawn Link has created for you to enjoy and hope to find in a mercantile market. Then, walk across the street and see Robin Trant Johnson at her Rubye’s Jewels and get inspired to be creative because it’s all around you. Meet Laura Parunak Cole, who owns Crazy Horse Upholstery and see the artist at work—she’s amazing.

Hungry? Mallett Bros. BBQ is only steps away and legendary around these parts, so don’t miss it and get some to go if you can’t stay for lunch or dinner.

Finally, the credits at the end of the broadcast are both lengthy and generous, heartwarming to see as Shanalee has led the way in embracing Iola people as they have embraced the Sharboneau family and as the rest of the episodes drop, it will be worth going back each week to visit “new friends you haven’t met yet.”

Credit script writer/supervisor Shanalee Sharboneau for leading the show's preliminary launch on Roku and Amazon Fire, and prospects for additional outlets growing daily, for a first-class product and pulling it all together.

Rating: 5 stars.

Related Stories:

“A Journey of Faith in Verse with Ms. Mary Lee Crocker Parnell”

"Dreams Come True: Ms. Mary Lee’s Book of Poems"

"Only in Iola" Kickoff Celebration Includes Ms. Mary Lee Cocker Parnell as Featured Poet"

Dreams Come True: Ms. Mary Lee’s Book of Poems

Part 2—A Published Author At Last [Second in a series]

Our dream journey as Ms. Mary Lee Crocker Parnell continues in our plan to helping her realize her dream of becoming a published author and poet.

So many people dream of writing a book; and once it’s written, the dream is to be published. Yet, for many, it remains a dream, because the path is either convoluted or unknown to many and seems too complicated to attempt. We wanted to remove any obstacles and potential financial sources of worry, and the committee jumped into action.

That she had been waiting 36 years since writing her first poem at age 50, to just looking at a battered navy blue cardboard-covered coil binding of her life’s writings was not lost on us. The committee (Marcia Oden, dear church friend, on the left, Ms. Mary Lee’s niece, Joyce Coleman, on the right and me, behind the camera) was operating entirely independently of her knowledge to surprise her and keep her free of having to worry about financing.

The goal was to operate as a virtual nonprofit, with any funds available going back into printing more books, with the goal of sharing her message of faith in seeking God’s direction and having her prayers answered. No individual would profit personally, which makes it truly more special, thanks to the joy of giving time and talents to make an amazing lady’s dreams come true.

It might come as a surprise but Ms. Mary Lee, is legally blind, and has been for many years. The only way she can read is to use an ultra-high resolution device that gives her limited straight-ahead vision. A gift to all who know her, though, is that she never perceives herself as either blind, or impaired in any way.

In fact, when you look into her face, you see bright, dancing brown eyes, filled with a special light that reflect the spirit of faith that she has at all times around her like an aura. As you get to know her, through her poems, you will find that at any point in her journey so far, there have been sufficient setbacks, events, and losses that could easily justify an attitude of depression, and to be sure, some people have no problem finding that path when they reflect on where life’s circumstances have found them present-day.

Ms. Mary Lee is uniquely grateful for having the kind of handheld device that gives her that limited ability. It’s amazing to hear her, particularly when others younger than her have gone “on and on” about their health challenges, regaling anyone who will listen about their challenges and afflictions. Not Ms. Mary Lee: she is excited about a cutout plastic template that gives her the ability to sign her name and compose notes. Says, “The Society for the Blind is so wonderful! They found this for me so I can use it and work with it so my autographs are in a straight line!”

Ms. Mary Lee’s book did not need editing, but all the poems were handwritten in beautiful cursive style, with ink, on school notebook paper. Step one was to crank up the stereo and begin typing. Lest you think of this adorable woman as having lived a carefree life of nonstop joy, that’s not reality. Adopted as a child, Ms. Mary Lee was adopted and then raised by a single mother in rural Iola, Texas. Her mother bought the hotel and adjoining café there and that’s where they lived until she was 17 and left home to marry her first husband.

There were two loves in her life and she was fortunate to marry both of them, and she created a loving family, and yet, times were hard and she worked hard every day in places such as Amycel Mushroom plant and a chicken processing plant nearby there among many jobs she held.

Your first impression of how you’d feel about that work might not be one of joy, but in Ms. Mary Lee’s compendium, you’ll find poems of gratitude, thanking the Lord for her job there and all of the wonderful people she worked with and for.

She wrote poems of love to her family, to her beloved spouses, to the wonderful nurses and doctors who were caring for them and for her, and the genesis for all of her poetry is that she prayed to the Lord to give her a correct, right spirit in her heart. Clearly her prayers were answered, even if she didn’t write her first poem until she was 50 years old.

For publishing, the next step was to organize the poems into appropriate categories, the easiest step as specific themes emerged, and they took on a flow of their own. My next call to Rhonda, longtime friend and editing colleague, based in Rockport, TX, and she welcomed my request for formatting the manuscript for printing in a font and type size making it easy to read comfortably. Once the formatted...the book returned to Bryan, and it was time for cover design. A subcommittee met to discuss what would please Ms. Mary Lee to hold “her book” for the first time.

A Texas hill country scene seemed fitting, and Marcia said she thought a field of bluebonnets would be lovely as part of the design. Then, a crystal cross stationed in that field of bluebonnets and a true Texas sunset on the way seemed appropriate. Amber, a Bryan-based graphic designer and creative, made it happen. A final edit from me and then the journey to New Jersey and then we engaged the Book Baby team to prepare the book for printing.

Meanwhile, at home at Sand Prairie Baptist Church in North Zulch, where Ms. Mary Lee has been a longtime member, Marcia and Joyce coordinated a special event and book signing for Ms. Mary Lee (again she had no idea this was happening) and a target date was set for Sunday, June 12, 2022.

This project began on May 3, 2022, with the initial inquiry, it has to be something of a record that the books were delivered on June 7, 2022, and three of us (Marcia, Joyce, and I) traveled to the lovely nursing community where Ms. Mary Lee resides in Bryan to surprise her.

These photos are just a small indication of the sheer joy and surprise as she had no idea that she was about to have her dream come true—holding copies of her published poems in her hands. There was another miracle present in that all of that work, from w handwritten poems to finished volume in a calendar month, essentially, is unheard of in publishing circles. Every person involved in the process had been available instantly to fulfill their part in the process without any delay.

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On book-signing Sunday, June 12, 2022, a crowd filled the fellowship hall of Sand Prairie Baptist Church, where church members and friends who’d traveled to North Zulch for the event filled the place with great cheer. Ms. Mary Lee was absolutely delighted to see friends, a few of whom had driven over 200 miles to be there for her special day. Two hours later, our newly published poet was in a happy kind of reverie as she reflected on the surreal nature of the day. div class="separator" style="clear: both;">

As Christmas 2022 approached, we’d run out of books and ordered a new print run to fill new requests. Another surprise was around the corner when one Sunday morning in June 2023, Ms. Mary Lee excitedly told Marcia that she’d just discovered a small suitcase among things on a closet shelf. Turns out another 75 poems were unearthed, and they were not part of our previously published volume.

By March 27, 2024, the first run of Volume 2 of “Down Through the Years in Poetry” was delivered. Friends and fellow church members were almost as delighted as Ms. Mary Lee to have more poems of faith, family, and love of home that she captures so well. With titles including “God’s Final Call,” “Drifting Towards Heaven’s Open Door,” “Honors to you — The Red Zone Gang” and more, the words that flowed through the ink pen of Ms. Mary Lee are all a gift to her from God, she reminds us.

You might think that might be the end of the story, a quiet little run of joy and some reorders of some sweet octogenarian’s faith-based poems. And everyone lives happily ever after. But that was not to be the last words about Ms. Mary Lee or her poetry.

Enter the Sharboneau family and their moving vans coming over from Austin’s luxurious hills and heights to the rural flatland of the loving community of Iola to reprioritize their lives. And they were blessed on their journey to meet a perfect Texas troubadour along the road…only in Texas you might say. Actually, it’s “Only in Iola” that our story continues for Ms. Mary Lee. You’re going to want to watch this promising new original documentary series, which premieres today, May 9, and it is currently available on the channel on demand, running 43 minutes long.

Ms. Mary Lee, her life and her poetry are a key feature of the premiere episode, titled “The Matriarchs.” Her world became even more exciting when she and several of her friends from Sand Prairie Baptist Church were special guests for the “Only in Iola” launch party that took place on Saturday, May 4.

[Next up: Photos and story about the Sharboneau’s Grand Launch Party in our feature, “From Bryan to Iola with a small detour through Hollywood.”]