THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, September 3, 1995 TAG: 9509030124
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: NORTH CAROLINA
SOURCE: PAUL SOUTH
LENGTH: Medium: 67 lines
Last week, The Blue Funk was here in full force, leaving melancholy and a bad case of the glums in its wake.
It was one of those weeks when you moon around, keep the shades down, and play songs so sad they make your dog cry.
But things are looking up, thanks to a longtime friend and a legendary figure I know only through books, old baseball broadcasts and appearances on public radio.
First, let me tell you about my buddy, Ron Hill.
Ron and I go back a long way. He and his wife Theresa have three wonderful children.
But beyond that, Ron Hill has been like a brother. In the tough times after my father died, he was always there to listen. Whether it was over a chocolate shake at the Blue Ridge Assembly in Black Mountain, or a steaming plate of vegetables and corn bread at the Anchorage Restaurant in Homewood, Ala., Ron reminded me again and again of what is truly important in this all-too-brief time on Earth: Faith, friends and family.
Building a bank balance doesn't count. Climbing through the corporate culture is meaningless. It's caring, and holding on to a core set of beliefs and loving people unconditionally.
Ron walked away from a lucrative family business to start a kids magazine, The Flicker, in Birmingham, Ala., because he was concerned about kids. In terms of money, it cost. But in terms of what mattered, Ron Hill is a rich man, indeed.
The legend who helped me is the baseball broadcaster, Walter ``Red'' Barber. Those of an earlier generation will remember Red Barber as the voice of the Brooklyn Dodgers, and later, the New York Yankees. But many today will remember him for his five-minute chats each Friday with National Public Radio's Bob Edwards on Morning Edition.
At about 1:30 Thursday morning, after being awakened by noisy neighbors, I finished reading Edwards' moving tribute to Barber, ``Friday Mornings With Red - A Radio Friendship.'' Edwards recounts those Friday chats that continued until Barber's death in 1992.
Those chats were not only about sports, but spirituality, and cats and camellias, and music and poetry and the power of the written and spoken word.
It was Red Barber who read the 39th Psalm after discussing the death of Maryland basketball star Len Bias. But words Barber once shared hit home as I read them in the predawn darkness.
``Do a little plowin' every day, 'cause if you stop, you're a goner,'' he said in his rural Mississippi drawl.
Last week, Ron Hill called. In the course of our talk, he asked ``Aside from your family and friends, what do you miss most about home?''
Without really thinking, I said ``Dreamland ribs.''
Dreamland Barbecue started in Tuscaloosa, Ala., in a tiny cinderblock building. Now with two locations, Dreamland is a favorite stop for the national network crews that come to broadcast games at Forrest Gump's alma mater. Dreamland sells but four items - ribs, loaf bread, soda, and beer.
On Thursday morning, when I went to work, a Styrofoam container awaited me. On the side was the logo of Dreamland Ribs. Ron had sent them next-day air. Two huge slabs of ribs. A jar of sauce. Moist towelettes. No physician has ever written so glorious a prescription.
Today is a better day because an old friend went above and beyond the call of duty, and because a man I knew only through five-minute Friday radio talks reminded me gently about what really matters.
Now it's time for me to get back to plowin'. by CNB