Today is one of reflection…back to my early childhood. My brother, Claude Franklin Rinehardt Jr. was born on this day, May 28. Both he and I were born in my Grandmother McInnis’s living room. The room was converted to a “ temporary hospital” because in that small town, there was no hospital. It was not uncommon for babies to be born at home. The doctor came to the house when it was time for the child to be born and delivered it. Mrs. Long, a neighbor, was his “assistant.” She was the one who helped with my birth, also.
I was born in July and my brother was born in May, almost three years apart. From the time I saw my brother, I called him, Buddy. That became his name. Buddy was a cute baby. You might even say pretty, but boys are not called “pretty” .
Buddy was very smart. As he grew, he got Lincoln Logs, Erector sets, Tinker Toys, electric trains, wagons and chemistry sets for Christmas. He got lots of books, as I did. He was very creative.
He had lots of friends, especially after we moved to Columbia, South Carolina. He was especially gifted in math. He even mentored his classmates who needed help. Some of his childhood friends were all the Blackwell brothers. He spent lots of time with them at their house or at ours. A very close friend was Jerry Cox, who became a dentist and who loved to play golf. He and Buddy also liked to listen to music. They were as close as brothers.
After high school, Buddy joined the Army and was stationed in Germany. He made friends with a travel agent, who arranged trips to many foreign countries for him. He always bought nice souvenirs for Mother and me wherever he went. I still have wooden shoes from Holland and a coo coo clock from Switzerland plus a glass dome clock from another trip that he sent me. He bought perfume and beautiful linens from other trips. He was very thoughtful of Mother and me.
When he got out of the Army, he enrolled at the University of South Carolina. He did have some money from a scholarship, plus the GI Bill. After college, he had several jobs, but his career was with the US Postal Service. He had a management position and eventually retired from that job.
He did get married and was the father of two boys, whom he loved very much. He provided a very good life for his family. Unfortunately, after many years, the marriage ended.
He had been a smoker when he served in the military. At that time smoking was popular. There were ads in the newspaper, on television and in magazines glamorizing what was to become the killer of many smokers. There was hardly a movie during the time tobacco was a valuable crop in the South, that did not have the actors and actresses smoking.
Later in life, Buddy was diagnosed with lung cancer. His death was not instant, but lingered and he suffered terribly. After my husband died, I made frequent visits from Georgia to help my Mother, take her to her appointments, cook and clean her house. She loved to go shopping and to eat at the S&S Cafeteria. When I was not with her, Buddy looked out for appointments and grocery shopping.
On my trip, when he was very ill, he called Mother three times wanting to know if I had arrived. I was delayed in leaving Atlanta, so I called him when I got to her house and told him I would make a pot of his favorite vegetable soup and would visit him the next morning.
He had an apartment several blocks from her home. I drove there with the soup and found him very weak . I visited and did some things for him while he ate his soup. I could tell that he was in terrible pain. He said, “ Jean, I regret the day a cigarette touched my lips.” He was due for radiation at the Baptist Hospital the next morning. I told him I would take him, which I did.
It was all he could do to get down the steps to my car. Seeing him like that broke my heart. When his radiation was finished, I told the nurse I wanted to talk with his doctor. Buddy was in a wheel chair.The doctor came and looked at my brother. He was having a heart attack. Buddy was put on a gurney and taken immediately to the floor in the hospital where heart patients were treated.
I stayed with my brother. I called Mother to tell her I would not be coming to her house until I knew Buddy was able to be without me. I became his private duty nurse from then until his death. I called Jerry Cox who came as quickly as he could. Buddy had a private room that had a small sofa that opened into a twin bed. I went to Mother’s house, got my clothes and went back to the hospital to stay around the clock with my brother.
We had time to talk as I sat by his bed. I prayed for him. I told him that previously I had talked with Mother about her relationship with God. She assured me that she trusted Jesus as her Savior and it was well with her soul. I asked Buddy if he was sure about his salvation. He prayed with me. I told him I wanted all of us be together in Heaven. He said, “Jean, you must be an Angel” We both cried.
Jerry Cox came frequently to sit with Buddy. Time passed , weeks went by. One morning, I asked the doctor if I could get a hospital bed and take my brother to Mother’s house so I could look after both of them. The doctor left the room and just them I noticed a flash of light around Buddy. I called for the nurse and and the doctor. The doctor came back immediately and said, “He’s gone.”
I had to tell Mother the sad news and to make arrangements for his funeral. Buddy was a good hearted, generous man. He was not expressive like I am, but I knew he loved me and my Mother. I knew he was in Heaven.
We never know what life holds for us or how long we will live. We do know that we have eternal life when our journey on earth is over. Our destination is either Heaven or Hell. I am so thankful that I could assure my Mother and my brother that we would be together again and that we would be free of pain and suffering. So on this day, May 28, 2022, I fondly remember you, my baby brother, Buddy, and thank God you were so good to me! Rest In Peace until we meet again.
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