I noted with sadness the passing of Elizabeth Brooks Carson on Dec. 10. While I did not know Elizabeth well, I wish I had.
Most of us know an Elizabeth, or perhaps several. She (or he) is that really good person who you know, in passing, through family or friends, and wish that you knew a little better. The people in her closer circles are the lucky ones.
During my childhood, mom and dad developed a close friendship with Elizabeth's parents, Ann and Jerry Brooks. Ann taught fourth grade at L.J. Bell school, while Jerry — who grew up locally — was an insurance adjuster.
As friends of my parents, like my aunts and uncles, Ann and Jerry were the grown-ups I could look to as living confirmation of every positive value that mom and dad was trying to instill. Had Billy and I suddenly found ourselves without parents, they could have been sterling alternatives. It was not unusual for our families to spend time visiting in our homes, weekends at the lake, or at my family's Ocean Drive Beach cottage.
Jerry was a big man. With his easy-going manner and ready grin, in my 8-year old mind I associated him with Hoss Cartwright of TV western fame. One lake weekend, our families were in swim suits enjoying a splash in the swimming hole defined by a wooden barrier adjacent to a pier. My ever-ingenious dad had constructed a metal sliding board that allowed a fun, if rickety, glide into the water. The thing seemed adequate enough for Billy and me, and the Brooks' young son, Todd (before his sisters, Celeste and Elizabeth came along). The mental picture of Jerry, in his swim trunks, mounting and sliding down the board is still riveted in my mind, and still hilarious.
Jerry played football for the Rockingham Rockets before a gridiron career at East Carolina. My brother recalls a part of Jerry that never stopped being a kid, as he would eagerly hit our backyard with Todd and Billy to throw the football around, not just for the obligatory few moments, but for more than an hour at a time.
Always sensible and kind, Ann never strayed far from the roles of teacher and mom — ones she filled so well. An occasion once found me spending a night at the Brooks home in Forest Hills. I must have been about 9. Ann's home-cooked meal included peas and carrots, and I rarely see a carrot and a pea together on my plate without thinking of that meal. She tucked me in for the evening by reading a story just before I nodded away.
Once, when Billy was participating in professional training in Raleigh, he shared lunch with Ann at an area restaurant. Now, as it was a Sunday, church attendance was a given. Had he even considered playing hooky, Billy knew that her disapproving frown would have matched his mom's.
After leaving Rockingham in the early 1970s, the Brookses made Columbia, South Carolina, their home for a few years. In the summer between my junior and senior years, I participated in a week-long high school newspaper editors' conference. You can imagine my delight when Jerry arrived at the USC campus to take me to lunch one day.
A favorite photo of mine is of the Brooks and Smith families in front of our beach cottage. It was an appropriate occasion to dress as beach bums, which the Smiths cheerfully observed. Though casually dressed and smiling, Ann could have fit in nicely anywhere else. (Mom must have known that, even at ages 10 and 8, it was probably a bit late to set good sartorial examples for Billy and me!)
Living in Raleigh following her teaching career, it came as no surprise that the N.C. Legislature discovered a gem as they hired Ann as its very public face in welcoming and providing assistance to those visiting the capital's legislative building. On a trip to Raleigh one day in 2014, I was thrilled when the ever-gracious Sen. Gene McLaurin permitted Ann and me use of his personal office to visit and catch up.
About a year ago, I featured former Richmond County schools superintendent Charlie Harrill in a column. The piece covered plenty of ground as Harrill had accomplished much over his long career. One of the professional hats he had worn was that of principal of L.J. Elementary School.
Bell was only a decade old, then, and Charlie Harrill was instrumental in putting it on educational maps. A crucial part of it was the school's professional staff of educators, and Ann Brooks was one of them for several years.
Ann welcomed me into her Raleigh home for several hours one October day. At 89, her mind was, clearly, no less sharp in sharing remembrances and vignettes of Mr. Harrill and those times. She helped make a good story an even better one.
Elizabeth's presence helped make our visit possible. Her character, talents, and interests seemed to shine through the loving obituary, and it's clear that she could have been doing other things on the day of my visit. Elizabeth was gracious in maintaining a discreet presence while occasionally joining the conversation, keeping an eye on her mom, and serving us lunch at mid-day.
Elizabeth and her sister, Celeste, lost their dad while they were still adolescents, but as her obit described, he made a lasting impression upon them.
In his remembrance of the Brooks family in the wake of Elizabeth's passing, my brother observed, "That is an awesome family!" I agree.
Earlier, I noted that I had not known Elizabeth well. It seems that I did, after all.
