Changes at Callaway-Jones Create New Opportunities to Serve Our Community

For five generations, Callaway-Jones Funeral and Cremation Centers has existed as a family-owned business, starting in 1904 in Palestine, Texas, when Mr. C. H. (Homer) Callaway came into the picture. For 120 years the entity of Callaway-Jones has defined funeral excellence in Texas.

In mid-October 2024, Cody called a full team meeting. His announcement would change my future substantially, and not necessarily badly, but it meant a new way of thinking about what I do and how I do it. Ch-ch-ch-changes again. A new phase in the life of Callaway-Jones was in the offing.

On November 4, 2024, the transfer of ownership to Park Lawn Corporation was signed, sealed, and added to a substantial business entity that has carved out their own niche for operational excellence. Although the legendary business we all thought we once knew came to a screeching halt with the swooshing of pens across paper, the legacy is far from over.

Cody is not one given to emotion when he speaks. In his entire work life at the business, you can’t tell it from his outward persona. For all his work life at C-J, he’s gone above and beyond to serve his family and his family’s legacy. You don’t see through his carefully crafted armor of calm, reserve, and reassurance that we all expect of our funeral directors, but I have seen it.

He’s not perfect; he is exacting and demands more of himself than he does others. Cody has watched as some of his best friends in caskets were lowered into the ground. He stands there as strong as any Marine without shedding a tear, while inside, God only knows how he did it.

Rev. Doug Manning, whose Oklahoma-based family has pioneered the training of life celebrants describes the expectations of those among the grief-stricken as the calm that takes over once the funeral director arrives on the scene. “The funeral director is here. Everything is going to be alright.” It’s true. I experienced it when my mother died. Cody and an attendant arrived in formal suits and respectfully transferred Mom into their care from the nursing home. My best friend from high school was with me and sister friend from town was en route.

My neighbor and dear friend, our church’s children’s minister, had arrived, also in a suit, to pay his respects. Our church’s senior pastor arrived, eventually, in fishing shirt, cargo shorts, and tennis shoes to express his condolences. Another story for another time. As the kids say, “IYKYK”(If you know, you know).

I’d been part of the Callaway-Jones “family” since the late 1980s, although few people I have worked with for almost 9 years even know this. It never comes up and I’m not one given to mark turf. I was blessed going through chemistry graduate school with professors whose grown children were my age and who loved live music as much as I did.

On any given weekend night, you’d find at least 5 different professors’ kids and their spouses and dates out in local clubs where a good 60% of them were up on stage performing and the rest of us were the appreciative listening audiences. Or, one might be running for local elected office, and we’d all be together on a campaign effort. I was “one of them” and as the professors began to age, and I’d relocated back to BCS in 1990 after my career in the Gulf Coast Petrochemical Industry, we saw the aging and eventual passing of our loved ones as time passed as we all grew closer.

The Family Entrance

As circumstances called, I was honored when my adoptive siblings asked my help in writing the final tributes for the newspaper with them alongside or for them, because it’s always hard to get started with blank paper. I typed (on an IBM Selectric, remember those jewels?) and would drive to Callaway-Jones. I loved parking under that huge tree and strolling to the office, going in the family entrance.

From there, the obituaries would get to The Eagle. I remember when Cody arrived to intern with his grandfather, earned his funeral credentials, and assumed control in 2004 at age 24, same age his dad, Mike, was when he took over the business, and the same age that his grandfather, Raymond, had assumed control. There was a beauty in that age symmetry.

Cody’s dad, Mike, died after a valiant battle with cancer in 2004. Mike Jones had a lot of dreams and plans for Callaway-Jones, but Mr. Raymond was not given to change as quickly as he was to studying all sides of a decision thoroughly. When Cody and Chelsea married, they determined to create something special in what we would come to know as the funeral home we are in today on College Avenue (almost median free) across from Mid-Town Bryan and all the excitement of a promising future the location offers.

A Chance to Establish Their Own Identity

Cody and Chelsea immersed themselves in visiting other family-owned independent homes for a year, and decided what would work best. People just seeing it for the first time say they never had any idea a funeral home could feel so warm and welcoming, putting people at ease rather than inspiring discomfort. Lorene remained in the background and carefully watched the books as she had for years, but she provided both continuity and care for the perpetual expansion of the family business.

A New Opportunity to Serve My Community

Cody called me in 2015 and said he was opening a new facility and wanted to offer families a Certified Life Celebrant, who could tell the stories of their lifetime and serve either solo or with a ministerial colleague when families requested it. People from all walks of life come through the doors, and their needs and wishes range extensively from traditional to anything but traditional.

Timing could not have been more perfect. I’d been discontented with being in a volunteer service role in my (then) church for reasons that mattered at the time. I’d wanted to be of service to God, and it was a personal goal, just hadn’t figured out what that would look like (yet). When the call, the answer suddenly revealed itself. I was in.

Nine years later, I’m still here, sort of. Thanks to that call from Cody, I experienced the opportunity to work with some of the most amazing people I could ever have asked to be associated with in a family-owned business where I’m not really part of the family but was always treated as though I was, for as long as that could last. In reality, today I am just a vendor, an independent contractor, and I belong to myself.

A Life Celebrant Does What?

If you know me, you know the answer to that question, some more thoroughly than others. I don’t always get the question “What is it you do exactly?” but the fast answer is that when a loved one dies, it is the intent of that person and his or her family to create a service that reflects the best and happiest times of that person’s life, shares stories that bring laughs and tears, and allows people a chance to share the feelings of their hearts with those gathered.

We use music, readings, poems, personal testimonies, and in some cases, the specific words left behind to be shared that day with all who are present. We gather, relax, and enjoy Diet Coke or Dr. Pepper if that was the favorite drink of the loved one. I tell the story of their life, punctuated and accentuated with family and friends sharing their memories. It’s an honor to serve families in this way, and I have loved doing so all these years now, in addition to my other work in publishing, editing, writing, and marketing.

With pride I share that I was trained by the best—Glenda Stansbury of InSight Institute and her co-instructor, Ty Rose. Throughout the year, they train family-owned and corporate-owned individuals with this calling. I edit memoirs, compose memories, and tell the stories of people’s lives in writing. Beyond that, I work in video storytelling with Nicole Lamb of Water to Wine Productions, and we’ve created some amazing legacies that continue to bring comfort to those who want their stories preserved.

Written tributes range from memory booklets to full-page stories in The Eagle; sometimes a story simply must be told, no matter the length. I’ve edited memoirs and gotten them published for families who want something to leave future generations, as one last gift.

I’m privileged to have worked with funeral directors who have gone above and beyond for families, time and again all because they care so very much about each family. I’m not a rah-rah cockeyed optimist who thinks everyone is perfect, but I’m proud of so many I’ve worked with over the years. I’ve watched people grow in their skills and relocate for one reason or another and I’m as proud of their success because they shine and make the profession great.

I’m not always a first choice, and some are still even uncomfortable with a female officiant, but over time, I’ve found that referrals explain it better than any website words—it’s how you feel when the service is over that is the reason I do what I do here. All our jobs revolve every day about offering comfort, respect, caring, and compassion for the most important times of your life, giving a loved one away from his or her earthly life and saying goodbye.

A Funeral Home is a Business but is a Funeral Business a Home?

Through the 50+ years I’ve studied, enjoyed, worked, and carved out my life here, I’ve been fortunate to know or at least be well acquainted with some of our Brazos Valley funeral business pioneers who created legacies that endure today, albeit with some substantial changes.

As a former member of St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church, I recall the inimitable Marge Hillier. Most Episcopal women are amazing and distinct for setting goals. They’re laser-focused and they work well together. Hillier Funeral Home earned a reputation for excellence and patronage followed, locally and regionally. Relatively few people remember its original location; many among our senior friends recall exactly.

If you knew Memorial Funeral Home back then, you knew Bill and Brenda Zieren. Theirs were the faces you saw, until Jodie Hoyak joined the business and extended the reputation of excellence.

You were doing business with Marge and Russ, Bill, Brenda, Jodie, and ‘not’ the name of the business. Flash back to 1953, when Homer Lacy Callaway Jones and her husband Manley Jones, Sr. relocated to Bryan from Crockett, Texas, and cofounded the business on College Avenue, which occupies the space on which the original building was built.

Why The Change? Why Sell Now?

I don’t know, nor is it my place to ask, but one thing comes to mind. As only children, Cody didn’t have a choice, nor did Mike, before leading the family business, because it was the family business. It’s like being an Osmond brother and saying you don’t feel like performing when the entire family business is built on your voice.

Sometimes, you just “do” because it is expected, directly or indirectly. Of one thing I’m certain: During his time leading Callaway-Jones, Cody made legendary inroads in the profession, he’s considered a leader of small independent firms. Cody gave our community a legacy it took 120 years to build, five generations to operate and sustain, and whatever Park Lawn does with it will be their decision and up to their leadership.

Good news: the majority of Park Lawn’s team are young, energetic and forward-thinking creatives seasoned enough in old-school, but who are not stuck in a rut of “but we’ve always done it this way” to prevent positive changes from happening.

Now What?

With the sale to Park Lawn Corporation, what changes will we see? Many of your same friends, neighbors, and family are there, with a few changes that have happened and some still likely to come, same as any business.

Speaking personally, I’m no longer exclusive to Callaway-Jones, for the first time in my career as a celebrant and life tribute writer. It’s a tad strange because I still remember the old oak tree and the family entry to the “old place,” and here we are in 2025 and I’m free to work where I want.

In my almost nine years at Callaway-Jones, so many of you have gifted me with the most treasured opportunities to serve your families. In some cases, I’ve officiated for three or four members of your immediate family, as time has passed. Those relationships that exist because of Callaway-Jones are precious to me.

I Love to Tell the Stories

Other relationships that I have forged in this community through my days as an arts, health, education, and other volunteer remain as equally important. One of my favorite “bookings” came to me 12 years ago (before I was at CJ) and she said, “when my husband and I die, you are writing the tributes!” I said, “that’s fine, I’m honored you’ve asked, but don’t make any fast exit plans. We still need you all too much!” Fortunately, they’re still here.

Other tributes I’ve written are sitting in C-J files for when they are needed because some parents knew they didn’t want to leave those tasks to their children who would be grieving them. I’m still honored to serve anyone who needs me at Callaway-Jones same as usual.

I’m also open to creating some amazing new experiences for life celebrations for those who want them. In November, I teamed with a friend as we organized an amazing event to honor the spouse of a longtime friend at Cadillac Ranch on a day when the skies were blue, the sun was out, and life was remembered, with military honors presented.

Dear friend Patti Wade, who retired as full-time C-J secretary last year to remain their family services ambassador (and part-time grandma) is the keeper of many stories and memories of some of our unique services at Callaway-Jones. Patti convinced some on-the-fence about a celebrant to give it a try, and she shared her personal experiences with those who wondered about how these services flow.

The funeral directors I’ve worked with presently at C-J are extremely caring people who want you to have exactly what you want for your loved ones’ services. We have a flow of communications between us that is virtually seamless and sometimes we’ve had some tremendous surprises (weather, weather, weather) but it always seems to work out. It’s all about teamwork.

The people you see and visit with today at Callaway-Jones are the ones you’ve been working with for some time now. They’re still your contact points, and still will be. The firm is growing a little, so you’ll meet some new friends along the way, too. They’re aware of you, your needs, they care about the details important to you, and they have genuine hearts of service.

After all, you don’t enter this field of work lightly. The gifts of servant’s hearts are in each one of them, no matter their role or task in our “family” conclave. Not all of us are perfect, and yet at the end of the day…we’ve all done our very best. Frankly, you can say that about all firms in town as no one sets out each day to make your life anything but easier during these times. There’s enough choice for you to decide what feels right for you.

I’m planning to continue serving families in celebration of life or in tributes at Callaway-Jones as long as there’s a demand for them, but I’m also an independent vendor now going forward. You can also find me as a writer/editor/book publisher through my cell or on Facebook (or subscribe to my new blog that will be debuting soon).

A Final Thought

Saying goodbye to a family-owned business was probably the hardest decision to make, followed by the signing of the agreements of same. It took courage, but with today’s business environment, uncertainty suggests placing a treasured business in the larger hands of a corporation who is poised for the long-term, steady for the long-haul, and able to operate with strength.

This community has not heard the last of businessman Cody Jones, far from it. Whatever he and his family do next will be received enthusiastically. They remain an integral part of BCS history and business upon which we face the future.

At long last the underground pipe replacement and fiber optic cable placement disasters of 2022-2024 are over. All that remains is for the City of Bryan to restore the once-perfect landscaping that was destroyed under the auspices of city improvement.

As I say often, drop by Callaway-Jones anytime; the coffee is fresh and everything is still there in its rightful place. Patti saw to that. It’s the way the family wanted. And I can’t project voices from the past, but I certainly imagine that the ancestors would all be proud of how Cody maintained, built, expanded, grew, and acquired additional assets to offer as the Callaway-Jones corporation was acquired by Park Lawn.

As Petula Clark Once Sang

It’s a sign of the times, friends. Even my beloved Porter Loring Mortuaries that so many of my loved ones counted on in San Antonio, a four-generation family-owned business since 1918, sold to SCI a few months ago, and still the Loring family will remain integral in the daily operations of the business.

Anyone who knows me well knows I can generally come up with a song that I think fits the occasion. I think I’ve found the one.

For Cody Jones, Chelsea Jones, and Lorene Jones, with love. Thanks to all of you for taking a legend and leaving us all a legacy. The future belongs to others now, and as they say when one sailor leaves the post, “We have the watch. Fair winds and following seas.”

“It’s Hard to Leave” by Judith Durham (Seekers Version)

Memories of an Aggie Original–The Legendary Harry J. Green, Jr. '52

On April 16, 1930, Harry Joyce Green, Jr. was born in San Antonio, Texas, to parents Cecilia M. and Harry J. Green, Sr. Harry grew up in Houston, Texas, and graduated from Stephen F. Austin High School in 1948.

Proficient in track and field, Harry earned an athletic scholarship to Texas A&M College, where he was part of Company B. He lived in Hart Hall and ran track for A&M in the Southwest Conference. When the Korean War broke out in summer 1950, Harry left A&M and enlisted in the U.S. Navy, where he served for four years. Upon receiving his honorable discharge in March 1955, he returned to Texas A&M to complete his Bachelor of Science degree in Industrial Education in 1957.

After graduation he returned to Houston and reconnected with old friends when he joined the Houston Aggie Club. Harry served as a Co-Class Agent for the Class of 1952 for many years.

His first job was with Browning Ferris, the waste management company, and his Aggie training found him moving up the company quickly as a safety engineer. Ultimately he struck out on his own and bought a Honda motorcycle dealership.

Because of his visibility in Houston, Harry was the perfect candidate to be chosen by Buck Weirus as the first Field Director for the Association of Former Students, whose growth potential would require greater statewide participation among fellow alumni. Equipped with a company car and persuasive speaking skills, Harry Green quickly became the one Aggie who basically knew every other Aggie in the state.

When he spoke, Harry commanded attention as he enthusiastically shared exciting news and updates on how great Texas A&M University was becoming, as it entered a new era where nonmilitary students and women entered the Aggie family. “Joining the Aggie Club and supporting A&M through endowed scholarships was one of the best ways to help our school,” he said, as he traveled up and down the highways and back roads of Texas every day.”

Meanwhile back at the office, one of the Aggie Club employees that Harry would be able to count on was a lovely woman named Nelda. She and Harry were kindred spirits who were meant to find one another. Working together daily, their mutual respect and indefatigable work ethics as both were devoted to Texas A&M eventually developed into devotion towards each other as best friends. Nelda once shared that they were having dinner one evening, when the subject got around to marriage. Posed with Harry’s question, “What are your thoughts on marriage?” Nelda replied, “I think people should marry their best friends,” to which Harry, without missing a beat said, “I fully agree, will you marry me?” Her answer of course was “Yes,” and the two were married in 1980.

Anywhere in town there was an Aggie function, you never saw one without the other. They rarely addressed each other by name. It was always Harry saying, “Dearest, are you ready to go?” and she’d said, “Yes, love.” Always. Whenever she was speaking of Harry to another, she would talk about “Harry J” in a soft, caring tone that revealed her devotion to her “knight in shining armor.” Most often when he spoke of her to others, he referred to her as "my bride." They were blessed with 37 years of joy until Nelda’s passing in October 2017.

They traveled the road together those decades, as Aggie clubs vied for Harry to be “their” Muster speaker each year, and the asks for “next year” went out just as soon as the current year’s Muster concluded. His ability to show people what a difference they could make in the permanently endowed athletic scholarship program was his gift. His name is synonymous with the moniker the Aggie Club, as he became its Executive Director in 1979. The organization had modest beginnings from its start in 1950. A 2012 interview in the 12th Man Magazine noted that in 1975 there were approximately 1200 members with revenues about $275,000. By the time Harry retired in 1992, the newly renamed 12th Man Foundation had 6,500 members and millions in revenues.

Harry preferred modesty, forever boosting his classmates and fellow Aggies for accolades rather than accepting credit, but he should be remembered as the one who broke fundraising records for Texas A&M athletics, for his graceful behind-the-scenes introduction of future friends of a lifetime to each other, for encouraging young men to become their best selves, and to remember forever that Aggies always help Aggies whenever they can. He had equal, welcome access to CEOs and Aggie retirees who were working as security guards in chemical plants. He knew the name of every ticket taker and custodian in all of the athletic facilities on campus and was greeted warmly by all. Everyone loved Harry.

One of the most beloved “newer” traditions at Aggie football games is the 12th Man towel. In 1985, two leaders in the 12th Man Student Aggie Club went to Harry as Executive Director of the 12th Man Foundation and Jackie Sherrill, then TAMU Athletic Director and head football coach, who gave their approval and the towel debuted in the first home game of the 1985 season. By the time TAMU beat UT in the final home game, Kyle Field was ensconced in a sea of white. It took the approval of Ol’ Army to help make possible a beloved new tradition.

Harry’s devotion to his Aggies never waned. Even though the past 12 months were filled with health challenges, Harry’s extended family made sure he attended every home game in the 2021 season and even one home game this year, which meant the world to him.

Not one to take retirement seriously, Harry accepted his friend Don Adam’s offer to serve as his Executive Vice President and Director of Marketing for First American Bank of Bryan, which grew quickly in the institution’s market share, thanks to Harry’s unparalleled enthusiasm and marketing talents. Everyone loved Harry.

Harry was a 32nd degree Mason and very active in fundraising, first in Houston and then locally. He was dedicated to the mission of the Shriners International Children’s Hospital in Houston for many years before its relocation to Galveston.

He was a vital part of the College Station Noon Lions Club locally.Asked one day how it was he was so successful in the Lions’ trademark project, selling light bulbs to friends and coworkers, Harry explained his pitch. “Well, I took all the light bulb boxes they gave me to sell into the bank one evening after work and I had attached a little note to each coworker that read, ‘Thank you for your support of the College Station Noon Lions Club annual light bulb fundraiser. The amount due is $X and you can bring a check or cash to me by the end of this week at your convenience.” When his coworkers finished laughing, they all put their checks in envelopes on Harry’s desk by week’s end.

In the community, Harry and Nelda supported the American Heart Association, and they served the American Cancer Society's Cattle Baron's Ball for several years, even serving as co-chairs for the Ball one year. [Photo below: Alice and Dick Hickerson and Nelda and Harry Green].

Together, Harry and Nelda were members of the Texas A&M Association of Former Students Endowed Century Club for their philanthropy through the years. Harry continued his service to A&M as a past-president (2012–2013) of the Sul Ross Group of Aggies, who celebrate the passing of at least 55 years since graduation with an annual reunion in College Station.

As the six core values of Texas A&M are identified present day as respect, excellence, loyalty, leadership, integrity, and selfless service (RELLIS), the Core Values Coin was introduced in 2013 by the Association of Former Students “to recognize Aggies who live and reflect the core values of Texas A&M.” Since their inception, only 148 coins have been presented. In the program’s second year, Harry was one of six past presidents of the Sul Ross Group to receive a Core Values Coin. Fifteen of the 148 coins were placed on the graves of Aggies killed in World War II and buried at the Normandy American Cemetery in France.

In the community, Harry and Nelda were faithful members of First Presbyterian Church in Bryan, and always signed up to be greeters for a month each year, an activity they took seriously. Each week they recognized newcomers and welcomed returning visitors and introduced them to other longtime members there, which resulted in many new church members joining because they felt at home. To be recognized, remembered, and regarded—that was the “Harry J.” way.

New athletics coaches, of any sport, were sure to meet Harry and Nelda during their first week here, as they would take them to dinner and learn what was important to new families and coaches relocating to BCS. They made it a point to connect them with others of matching interests to make their assimilation easier. They never sought credit or acknowledgment for what they did. It was simply who they were, two Aggie angels with hearts of gold.

Visitation for Harry will be from 11am–1pm at Callaway-Jones Funeral Center in Bryan on Thursday, December 15. A guestbook is available Tuesday for those wishing to sign early. Following a private burial ceremony, a memorial service will be held on Friday, December 16, at First Presbyterian Church in Bryan, with the Rev. Ted Foote presiding.

Harry was preceded in death by his parents, his sister, Dorothy Green Lovelace, and his beloved wife, Nelda. He is survived by niece Margaret Lovelace Brooks and husband Karl, and their sons, Tom Booker and Mike Booker.

Harry is also survived by Nelda’s loving family, nephews, Tracey Smith and Travis Smith, great-niece Chelsea Jones and husband Cody, and their son Rowen Michael Jones; and great-nephews Austin Smith and Wyatt Smith, as well as a host of Aggies to whom Harry and Nelda were indeed considered “extended family.” [Photo: Cody and Chelsea Jones, Nelda and Harry Green].

From that extended family, serving as pallbearers are Jim Peterson, Bill Carter, Steve Stevens, Arno Krebs, Arnold Hayes, Kyle Lednicky, Tom Kennerly, and Kent Caperton. Honorary pallbearers are Don Adam, John Sharp, Kyle Lewie, Bookman Peters, Dick Hickerson, James Connor Smith, Dick Witherite, Otway Denny, Ron Lueck, Bill Housman, Karl Brooks, Tim Booker, Mike Booker, and all Past-Presidents of the 12th Man Foundation.

In lieu of flowers, gifts may be made to the Texas A&M Foundation, 12th Man Foundation, or the charity of choice.

Today, Harry and his Nelda are reunited in Heaven, and undoubtedly there are legions of Aggies standing in long lines to welcome him home. The strains of “The Spirit of Aggieland” should be wafting through the clouds. This coming April 21st, for Muster 2023, when the name of Harry Joyce Green, Jr. ’52 is announced, the response “HERE” is sure to reverberate throughout Reed Arena. And so it is that Harry J. Green, Jr. ’52 is home at last.

Marking a Memorable Day and Remembering a Loved One

It was a beautiful sunny afternoon as I was leaving Callaway-Jones, headed into the back parking lot last Thursday, when I spotted something you don’t see every day here. A rooster and a hen were strutting down a nearby driveway, headed home after a visit to one of the neighbors’ lawns to search for who knows what. I just stared at them, amused, thinking that they didn’t think anything about what I was thinking. They were on a mission of their own and heading home afterwards. Country living in the middle of a city. I guess that’s what you call mixed-use development.

My eyes then moved right as I saw a delivery truck backed up and ready to offload. The truck’s logo bore the name of a well-known casket manufacturer of whom I’d been aware for close to 15 years now, today being 14 years to the day of my mother’s passing. The year before her death, my best friend and I had driven to two manufacturers’ sites in Texas, while I was studying the pricing, quality, and elements of exactly the kind of casket I wanted for Mom’s burial. As a good nerd, research is always comforting. Understand the unknown and it can’t flummox you later.

When you think about these topics early, it takes much of the emotion, grief, and trauma out of the equation. I wanted time to think about what I’d like, what I could afford, and what was available. As an only child, all decisions were up to me. Don’t feel sorry for me, because I had no one telling me I was “doing it wrong,” ha.

By the time my research and review of caskets was done, I knew the top manufacturers’ names, the model names of many caskets, the difference between various metal gauges, and other terms that don’t come up often in daily conversation. And I knew the pricing. When it came time to select Mom’s casket, I was well prepared and trusted Cody and his grandfather, Raymond, to make sure the casket of my choice would arrive on time. They did, precisely. It was exactly what I wanted for Mom, and it was beautiful. And then I forgot about all that, for 14 years in fact.

As some of you know, I now work for Callaway-Jones as their Certified Life Celebrant and Life Tribute Writer, so you think I’d be thinking a lot about caskets, but in fact I don’t. I think about life after death, about celebrating the life that meant so much to those they left behind, and on constructing services that provide healing and celebration of the best times of their lives. But Thursday afternoon was different.

As I stood there actually seeing the delivery truck back into position, time froze for a few minutes as I just watched something profound happen. I’ve known my friend and work colleague Catherine Ewing-Cates for over 20 years, and I know she’s been a Funeral Director for many years. But most recently I have thought of her as the manager of Restever Cemetery in Bryan, because that’s where I see her often.

But Thursday, Catherine was outside in the parking lot standing quietly until the driver had opened the bay of his truck and she moved forward with the carrier that the casket would be offloaded to. She greeted the driver respectfully and professionally, and there was no idle chatter. Both driver and funeral director offloaded the casket and transferred it onto the carrier with such respectfulness, that it reminded me exactly of the scene I’d seen many times on “NCIS,” when a military serviceperson is flown home to the United States and military personnel await the transfer of the casket. There’s a quiet reverence about that process. And yes, I've been known to shed a tear at the beauty of the ceremony because of what it means.

And Thursday, there was a similar stillness and solitude in that scene. In fact, neither Catherine nor the driver even noticed me watching them. They were doing their jobs so professionally, even when no one was (seemingly) watching. There was a beautiful cover over the casket, for protection during the drive, and yet another layer of secure covering after the cover was removed. Catherine handled that transfer with exactly the same level of respect as she would have, were there someone inside it. That just hit me as profound. It’s the parts of the world we work in that the public doesn’t see that are even more impressive than all the things you do see that cause you to have confidence in us.

Yes, it’s how we make you feel after losing a loved one that you remember most of all, but I really wanted to say that, even though I’ve seen many aspects of afterlife care that most of you have not, I’m really proud of the family team I work with, because I see what you can’t, and don’t, and it is truly as worthy of lifting up. Yet, there’s no standing ovation for honor and grace, although there really should be. At the end of the day, you can know you’ve done your job well, and served your families with total respect and appreciation because of all who see you doing that, but it’s who we are when no one is watching that I think is worth just as much merit.

I just took a few minutes again this afternoon to vote in The Eagle’s Reader’s Choice Awards 2019 contest. You can vote once a day through tomorrow. I’m proud that Callaway-Jones is in the Top 3 as best funeral home and that two of the Top 3 best funeral directors are ours, as well as one of the Top 3 receptionists in the competition. I may be biased because I work there, but I only work there because many years ago, I was their customer first. And my confidence in them has only become stronger with every day I interact with them.

I do so love “country living” in the middle of Bryan, Texas. I’ve got deer in my front yard looking for supper and a rooster and a hen strutting up and down driveways and parking lots out for a walk. It just doesn’t get any better than this. As we begin to prepare for Memorial Day weekend ahead next weekend, we remember and appreciate all the professionals whose work involves paying respects to those we’ve loved and lost. Their memories, and their love, remain with us forever.

Turning on the Lights in Memory of Gene McDaniel Woodell—A Good Man from Grapeland

Friday night I drove to Callaway-Jones Funeral Center to pay respects to a gentleman whom I’ve had the privilege of knowing since 1993, Gene Woodell. It was going to be hard to say goodbye, even if Gene lived 91 wonderful years, because he was so timeless to all who knew him. The welcome smiles of my work colleagues who opened the door for me, Jon Shirley and Morgan Shirley, made my visit comfortable immediately.

As I signed the guest book, Marissa Crouch and Ricky Alderete greeted me as all around me I saw a beautiful display of photographs, awards, certificates, and more. I already knew Gene was legendary in his career—and yet, seeing all the framed accolades reinforced my awareness of what I already knew. We’d lost a legend, on so many levels.

My eyes immediately located a framed photo of Dixie and Gene, from their 50th Wedding Anniversary party at First United Methodist Church, and all of us there (virtually the entire church membership, plus neighbors and friends who’d filed through en masse that day) had signed the now framed matte board surrounding their wedding photo. At the end of his life, Gene and Dixie had marked 63 years of marriage, and all who knew the couple smiled in awe of the joy they showed whenever they were together.

Greeting Gene’s widow, Dixie, and his sons, Gene Martin and John, I knew to expect their strength, but as the beautiful video that Gene Martin had created was showing, it was truly a lifetime of love that was Gene’s greatest legacy to all of us. Even though the light of their lives had been extinguished on January 11th, the Woodells were such gracious hosts to all of Bryan-College Station who came through to share a hug, a tear, and so many memories.

I am continually humbled, when I see the “greatest generation” show up en masse, no matter what kind of impediments might try to dissuade them from paying respects. To be sure, in attendance were several Millenials, including Clayton Cates who came in, who’d known “Mr. Woodell” as the senior usher at First United Methodist Church, the man whose heart was filled with the incandescent countenance of grace and peace. John Woodell had asked Clayton to be an usher for the next day’s service, as Clayton was one whom Mr. Woodell had known from birth.

Trying to count the number of ushers who were asked by Mr. Woodell to work with him on Sunday mornings, I gave up—too many to count. He was truly a pillar of the church. In the past year alone, First Methodist has lost many pillars but Gene Woodell was one pillar for which it was almost too hard for me to say goodbye to, and I’m well practiced in saying goodbye bravely. After I’d paid my respects, I saw more of the photographs of the Woodells’ lifetime of love. They brought me to near-tears.

Fortunately, Rose Cates spotted me and we visited and reminisced about what Gene meant to our church, and as others came in, we knew they were from other parts of the Woodell’s lives. Whether it’s visitation or a funeral, we all need closure, we need people to be there with us and for us, which is the most important reason for a visitation, as you are not alone in your grief. Others miss whom you miss. Others remember what you remember, and together there is comfort.

Taking time to see all the names in the visitor registry, I smiled, because the lives that Gene touched in his lifetime were those from Grapeland, Texas, from his career position with Merck, Sharp, and Dohme (now Merck & Co.), within his church, and in an established Bryan neighborhood of longstanding. Everyone smiled as they shared their memories of Gene with his family.

The visitation was just the beginning of the energy and warmth that would surround the celebration of his life. I’d not known before that Gene was a Mason, or a member of the Circle Squares Square Dance Club, and the Knife and Fork Club. We must always remember that as well as we think we know others, we can always learn something new about an old friend, if we take the time to talk and ask questions.

The lights came on early Saturday morning in the sanctuary of First United Methodist Church in Bryan, at 28th and Houston, as a special event was to take place, with the public arriving for a 11 am funeral to pay final respects to one of the true “pillars of the church.”

It would be the first special occasion in the past 67 years in the life of the church where Gene himself was not present to open the doors. Instead, we the massive group of friends, family, fellow church members, neighbors and Bryan-College Station residents filed in to fill the pews for Gene’s Life Tribute service.

My door was opened by a professional teen usher whom Gene inspired and trained, Clayton Cates. That door was originally Gene’s to open, as he did virtually every Sunday of his 67 years as a member of the church now in its 150th year. Imagine…a man who has been part of a church for almost half of its existence. Truly, this is an awesome achievement. I was one of hundreds who processed through those portals over various years. He took the time to greet everyone by name…he brought a great “Welcome to your church” to visitors and guests alike.

For the funeral, pews held so many of the subsets of the church membership, one pew holding the surviving spouses of former FUMC ministers and their friends, another pew holding members of the 2x2 Sunday School class, of which Dixie and Gene were members, yet another pew with many of the Wesley Sunday School Class, another pew with a beloved former senior pastor and his entire family, on and on, as you then saw pews of others you didn’t know, but you’d come to know as the service proceeded with James Polasek on the organ with the prelude.

After Ricky Alderete led the family in to their reserved pews, Pastor Rick Sitton welcomed everyone and the music began. Young Michael Bettati perfomed a sterling violin solo as the opening then Rev. David Henry led the Sanctuary Choir in “On Eagle’s Wings” and all was right with the world. The FUMC Sanctuary Choir is one of the reasons many people return each week, to hear whatever they’ve worked up next as their gift to the congregation. Gene Woodell was another reason people returned each week.

Jeff Hobbs, Children’s Minister at FUMC, read from the Psalms, and took his rightful place as one who deserved to be part of the final farewell. Gene had watched him become the church leader he is, encouraging him all the way, sometimes good naturedly, but always with a smile. Count on Dr. Tim Scott to share from the lectern and keep everyone’s attention in a positive way. First, Tim read John’s tribute eulogy to their dad, and then it was time for the congregation to sing “Blessed Assurance,” always a favorite. Michael Bettati performed a powerful version of “Long Time Traveler,” and then it was time for the Eulogy.

Tim invited anyone who wished to come forward to share “I am thankful for Gene Woodell because…” and as people filed up there, including Texas State Rep. John Raney (who came down from the choir loft to do so), and wife Elizabeth, to Gene’s neighbors, friends from Grapeland, and other church members, the accolades flowed beautifully and smoothly.

Tim then continued by sharing the contents of a beautiful anonymous note that the Woodells had found in their mailbox one day. For four years a student had ridden his bike down their block, en route to classes at Texas A&M, and every day when Gene was outside, he would wave and smile at the student, neither party knowing the other’s names.

The student was just about to graduate and decided on that occasion that he wanted to thank the “resident” there for his daily encouragement that was, some days, what kept him going in his journey and through his education challenges. Imagine the power of a single wave and smile. That was Woodell Wattage light that flowed through him wherever he was.

Tim reminded so many of us of the truly sainted man who’d grown up in Grapeland, after having lost his dad very early in his life, one reason Tim projected that he’d been such a loving and caring father to their sons. Gene had co-founded “The Better Men of Grapeland” as a young man, vowing not to drink or smoke or swear, or go with girls who did. That’s an achievement to admire…without a father figure in his life, Gene and his friends decided early what kind of men they would be. Who does that anymore? Only special people with special gifts.

He shared how Gene wanted so much to join the Boy Scouts, even at age 13, but he’d learned the age of entry was 14, and the Scoutmaster wouldn’t make an exception. So, he went to the library and read up on the rules, and learned that you could join at 13 years old if there was a board member to sponsor you. One day the scoutmaster was out of town, so Gene sought out a Boy Scout board member to sponsor him. The man was so impressed, he agreed to sponsor him, and he hired him to work in his business. The man was Otto Walling, whose family had been in Grapeland, forever it seemed.

Otto hired Gene and that was the beginning of his interest in drug stores and in pharmaceuticals.

Gene was definitely a people person, so he combined his people skills in a business that made people feel better, a representative of a major pharmaceutical company, one that he devoted 37 years of his work life to serving, Merck & Co. Seeing some of his award plaques at visitation was so as you’d expect…for all the years I knew him, he never once mentioned an award. You just “knew it,” but doctors in town and their office teams always respected him. Gene was like no other in what he did and how he did it. Hard to quantify in words.

The sermon delivered by Pastor Sitton was as you’d expect, hard for him to deliver, as clearly he respected Gene so much, but he made it meaningful to all who heard him. What do you say when a visible pillar of your congregation is no longer there to welcome you each week? Many pastors and their spouses were in attendance on Saturday—they know exactly how Pastor Sitton felt. As Pastor Sitton said in closing, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.” Amen and amen.

The concluding hymn was “Because He Lives,” and it was almost as though someone was picking favorites out of the old Cokesbury Hymnal, and nothing would have made Gene happier. Well done, Rev. David Henry.

In any church, in any career, and in any community, you come across people who improve your life, and those of all around you, simply by their indefatigable smiles, their optimistic outlook on life, and their ability to be calm in any crisis. It reminds me of what Fred Rogers used to say to young children who were being taught what to do when there’s trouble around them. “Look for the helpers,” he’d say. For most all of his 91 years, in life you could say, “Look for Gene Woodell, he will help you.”

Dr. Fran Kimbrough is responsible for the takeaway remark of the individual eulogies…paraphrasing as closely as I can, she said, “For mumble-something years, I’ve known the entire Woodell family, as a lifetime member of this church, and my two favorite ushers of all time are my uncle, Jim James, and Mr. Woodell. And I know for a fact that one day when I get to Heaven, there will be two ushers standing at the door up there as they always did down here, and that will be my uncle, Jim James and Mr. Woodell.”

And that, of everything I heard and appreciated yesterday, made me smile the most.

The lights of the sanctuary in First United Methodist Church glowed brightly again this morning, and will every day hereafter in which any worship service occurs in the now 150th year of that church.

But the lights in the night skies, when they can be seen, will undoubtedly be stronger and brighter, and light-years away someone has already said, “Hey look, Woodell has arrived!”

Following the benediction, the family paid final respects in passing the casket for the last time en route to the reception in the church’s Fellowship Hall. Larry Whitlock and Zach Johnson had joined Ricky Alderete in folding the U.S. Flag draping Gene's casket, a reminder of his service to country in the U.S. Army. The rest of the congregation followed behind them.

In the Fellowship Hall, at every table you’d find people gathered together in rapt conversation, talking about how they first came to First Church, how Gene had welcomed them, and invariably the statement, “This church will not be the same without him.” A beautiful collective of church women acted as hosts for the reception, providing recognition and regard for all who attended, ambassadors of FUMC as Gene would so have loved.

However, rather than drop into deep depression, you could be uplifted as you’d see only the countenance of calm on Dixie’s face, the active and appreciative way in which both Gene Martin and John engaged in conversation with all who came to speak special words. It would be a long day for their family as the interment would take place at Bethel Cemetery on Hardy Weedon Road, and final goodbyes would be said.

When you think of Gene Woodell in the daytime, just look for the brightest light in the sky around you, and he’ll be there.

To read the full, beautiful life tribute that John Woodell wrote, and to watch the exquisite video of Gene's life that Gene Martin created, visit Gene's tribute page on the Callaway-Jones web site at http://www.callawayjones.com/gene-mcdaniel-woodell/