Last Saturday, my friend, Kat Kennedy, and I drove over the bay to join other writers, friends, and family members of Charles McInnis at the Fairhope Library. We all gathered to honor our friend and remember. There was a lot of laughter as people shared some of the antics of Charles as he grew into adulthood and some of the fond memories of recent experiences. Charles was one of those people we all strive to be - generous with time and ideas, gifted with the written word, blessed with a dry sense of humor that sent people into guffaws, creative and curious. Kat shares her memories of Charles from her recent post on Tea Cakes and Whiskey, her website. http/www.teacakesandwhiskey.com It is a lovely tribute to a quiet, yet powerful, man. Charles, you will be missed.
Sometimes
we are lucky enough to have people come into our lives who make us better. My
friend Charles McInnis was such a person. My favorite question from Charles was
"What if?"
Charles
was always encouraging and helpful to everyone he met. He had a way of making
you feel like you were the most talented person in the room, but we all knew
that he was. His talents went far beyond writing, teaching and photography. He
had that talent so few of us have -- the talent to bring out the best in
others. To point out possibilities. To believe in ourselves. To ask, What if?
I
first meet Charles at a writer's editing group. We hit it off immediately. We
discovered that we had grown up a stone's throw away from each other, in the
same east Alabama county. I had taught at Horseshoe Bend, the setting for one
of his stories. That was always common ground for us. I knew where Frog Eye,
Alabama was located. He knew my childhood doctor in Eufaula, Alabama. It seems
that every time we got together, we would find out something new we had in
common.
I
had brought a little short story to the group for feedback. Within an hour of
getting home, Charles emailed me with one of his "what ifs?"
Throughout the rest of that year we would bounce ideas off one another, meeting
when we could to discuss writing and writers. He always made time to give me
feedback on my work. We both were similar in what we found funny, and I loved
reading and commenting on whatever he was writing.
Charles
was a wealth of information. He was a retired physics teacher. He could talk
about the subject on a level that even a retired Literature teacher could
understand. (This is no easy feat!) We talked about our travels. He was always
eager to hear about where I'd been and offer suggestions of where to go when I
went to New York.
Even
when an illness kept me at home for much of last year, and I didn't see him as
often as I would have liked, he would send along a web address or an article for
me to read.
One
of the last emails we exchanged was a list of unusual Alabama towns. I told him
that AL.com was working on an article about unusual Alabama town names, and he
immediately started sending suggestions: Screamer (a town we both knew well),
Frog Eye, Smuteye, Bug Tussle, Scratch Ankle, Buzzard Roost, Half Chance. He
could have said that's interesting, I'll have to read it. But that wasn't
Charles. He took the time to look up towns and send them to me. He was one to
always go the extra mile.
I
will miss our chats and collaborations. He was a driving force behind my first
book. In fact, he did the cover for me. (Without being asked.) He just did it.
That was Charles. He contacted me when it was published to say he had bought a
copy. I had one for him, but he felt strongly about supporting indie authors,
so he had already bought one. That was Charles. We were working on a project,
and he had made a mock-up of a magazine cover which read: Tea Cakes and
Whiskey, a new story of dysfunction, by Kat Kennedy. I said, "Now, I have
to write this story." I was setting up my website at the time and asked
him if I could use Tea Cakes and Whiskey for its title. I didn't want to steal
such a wonderful idea. And of course, he said, "It's yours. It fits
you." That was Charles.
When
I attended the memorial for Charles on Saturday, I felt blessed to be among the
people he called friends. I think he would have liked the tribute. It was
simple and beautiful and moving. As we shared our stories about Charles and his
impact on us and the community, I was reminded of how very generous and giving
he was to everyone.
I
was looking through some old emails and edits from Charles and ran across
something he wrote in answer to the question: How do you find time to write?
I think the most valuable thing to do in fiction is to give the
characters important things to do. Writing becomes easy then, and the
characters perform. You must write in order to see what your characters are
going to say and do. It is difficult to write about characters doing mundane
things. Finding time to write when characters have clear objectives is easy.
Certainly,
Charles didn't write about mundane things. His stories are funny and creative.
I think his words on 'making time' fit perfectly with how he lived his life. He
made time. Time to help, to create, to travel, to learn, to teach, to care for
others. He told me one day when we were planning a group picnic, "I'll
bring my never-used kayak. There are no stories for a never-used kayak."
I
hope we all learn from Charles the truth of that simple phrase. Use your kayak!
Live your life! Make a difference in any way you can! Charles made a
difference.
I
am eternally grateful for his encouragement and guidance. So I ask the
question, "What if?" What if we all lived life to the fullest as
Charles did? What if we gave our time and knowledge to others without expecting
anything in return? What if we use our kayak?
Happy
kayaking, my friend.
Kat
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