Before I dig into past journal entries made over the years during this timeframe, December 20-26, I’m going to take a moment and go back to an event that made me if not possible then legitimate. Sixty-five years ago today, on 26 December 1954, Plumer Jean Cody and Dorothy Lee Reeves drove from Madison County down to Greenville, South Carolina, were married (by a Justice of the Peace, I’m assuming), and drove back home as Plumer and Dorothy Cody. They were both twenty-three years old. I think they headed out fairly quickly for Dad’s military posting in Utah. In ten months, my Robert Gerald “Jerry” Cody was born, and in another three years, I was born. Although Dad walked on in November 1996 and Mom is doing a slow fade in a nursing home, today, 12/26, is still their wedding anniversary.

Not sure when this portrait was taken, but I’m guessing late 1980s or early ’90s

Now, back to my journals. I continue first through the end of 1977, when I was nineteen years old and finishing my first semester as a flute major at Mars Hill College.

Captain’s Log: Stardates 122.077 – 122.477 [Tuesday-Saturday, December 20-24, 1977]

These last few days have pretty well passed uneventfully, all bringing us closer to the special day in this holiday season. I’ve done very little in the way of activity except that Wednesday we played basketball with Tweed and some guys at Reynolds [High School]. We had our get-together with the Plemmons family 122.377 [Friday, December 23] PM. Tonight we ate with the Wallin fam. I went to exchange gifts with George and Betty tonight.

Tomorrow is the day. Nearly 2000 earth-years ago, God gave to man His son, Jesus, who was conceived by God in the womb of a virgin. Jesus, God’s Son made flesh, finally at the age of 33, died on the cross and three days later he arose and lived again. He still lives and he’s building a home for us in Heaven. It all sounds like a story but every word is true. As bad as sin is, Jesus bore the weight of the sins of everyone who has ever lived and he did it to give us a chance to accept him as Savior and Lord and live with him throughout eternity. Sounds pretty wierd [sic] doesn’t it? Yet, I believe every word of it because it’s true. Though it seems my very nature to sin, I know God loves me and will accept my repentance. . . .

The Plemmons family is Mom’s younger sister Ernestine (“Ernie), her husband Cloice Plemmons, and their sons Joey and Mark. The Wallin family is Dad’s younger sister Pansy, her husband Edison Wallin, and their daughter Donna.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 122.577 [Sunday, December 25, 1977]

Well, another Christmas come and gone. It’s been a very good day. Our church service went quite well today[. T]his afternoon and evening have been just great. George, Betty, and I saw the most fantastic movie tonight. It was Richard Dreyfuss in “The Goodbye Girl“, [sic] it was great. I guess I’ll have to fall in love one of these days and find out what it’s really like.

I was going to say some things, but there’s too much so I’ll just pray about and sleep on them. . . .

Captain’s Log: Stardate 122.677 [Monday, December 26, 1977]

Well, another good day gone! I really had a fine time today. I went up to Mike’s at about noon and played basketball, then stayed the rest of the day. Dallas beat Chicago today 37-7 and they were awesome.

I feel so alone at times. I know God is with me but I’m at an age where it would seem natural and very good to have a steady girl. Yet, the Lord hasn’t shown me anyone to take up a relationship with or maybe I missed His cue. Oh well. . . .

Now we skip from 1977 to 1981, when I had just turned twenty-three years old, which, given what I wrote above, was the same age Mom and Dad were when they married. As for me at twenty-three, I was making my first contacts and contracts with Nashville.

Captain’s Log Stardate 8112.21 [Monday, December 21, 1981]

Well, it’s a little more than tomorrow for the news, almost a week I guess. Anyway, here it is. We hit Earl’s office around 10:30 AM and talked over some plans for the album. We then signed papers and papers and picked up our money ($1500 for me!). Before leaving for home, we stopped at Red Lobster for a pig session. The ride home was a lot of fun and since then I’ve been here at the house trying to write some and in Asheville trying to get my Christmas shopping done. . . .

This is a follow-up to last week’s Throwback Thursday, in which the entry for December 15, 1981, read, “Today was the day of the signing! However, we had a long, hard ride back home, so I’ll get sleep first and give details tomorrow. . . .”

Leap forward with me to December 1984. I was twenty-six years old, and I’d been living in Nashville for over two years. I’d recorded a couple of albums with Earl, as per the contracts mentioned above. The titles of these album projects were Fiesta, recorded in 1981 and ’82 (I think), and Waiting for the Night, recorded in 1984. But Earl’s $500/month advance arrangement wasn’t enough to live on, so I’d gone out to get a job with Cat’s Records, a retail chain that was based in Nashville but had stores in Knoxville and other places.

The entry below is from Christmas Eve in ’84.

Captain’s Log Stardate 8412.24 [Monday, December 24, 1984]

I’ll recap the year a little later. Now I want to deal with the immediate present. It is Christmas Eve 1984 and the first in my life I have spent away from my family and the first (hopefully the last) to be spent alone. Suffice to say, I work at Cat’s Records and there is also a girl there by the name of P——— who I have been spending a small amount of extra-curricular time with lately and as usual have felt the potential for that illusive [sic] relationship I seek. Anyway, I was to leave Nashville at 2pm for home but we were very busy and the weather was bad and Pyra and I were getting along well so I kept staying. Finally 6pm came and I was tired and she had seemed to drop small hints all day that I was wanted to stay. Closing time came and I told her that I didn’t feel like driving 5 hours in bad weather and I asked what she was doing. She said “nothing”, so told her that if we could spend the evening together I would stay. Agreed. So I called Mom, told her the story and was to get a call from P——— when she had gone home and changed. Needless to say, she called and said she had changed her mind and that she was going to ride to Knoxville with her roommates. Still she asked me not to go tonight but rest and go tomorrow. The way I felt I had no choice at that point. I (was/am) pissed. I went out and ate alone at Red Lobster and am now trying to sleep early so I can get home to NC at an early hour. Might this be a turning point in my life? I can’t help but wonder how next Christmas Eve will find me. . . .

P___ and I remained friends until we lost track of each other sometime after I — and maybe she — no longer worked at Cat’s Records. Eventually she became part of the composite that makes up Yvonne Moon in GABRIEL’S SONGBOOK. As might be expected in this day and age, P___ and I are friends on FACEBOOK. . . . I’d forgotten this Christmas Eve situation until I reread this journal entry. But what I never forgot was the drive home to North Carolina. I left Nashville at some ridiculous time — like two or three o’clock in the morning — and headed east on I-40. I remember how lonely and beautiful were the wee hours of Christmas morning as I traveled across Tennessee. And I remember pulling into the driveway in early morning light — home for Christmas.

The next entry to fall within the December 20-26 time frame is not until 1989. I was thirty-one years old and three and a half months married to the love of my life.

Captain’s Log Saturday December 23, 1989

It is my first Christmas as a family man. I don’t know if it is this or my age of 31, but I’ve thought little about what I might get for Christmas. I seem to be waiting for Leesa’s reaction to what I give her and Lane’s reaction to what Leesa and I give him. It’s a good feeling. Still it has all been so hectic, I’ve not had enough time to focus on the meaning of Christmas. No time enough to think on the wonder of the Christ child being born again into this world and my life.

But into this world, in this season, it is not a silent night. Christmas will hear celebration and mourning. There will be celebration in East Germany where the wall has come down! Communism has fallen there, in Poland, in Hungary, and in Czechoslovakia. In most of these places, a socialist/democratic society will replace the former governments. This wonderful event in Eastern Europe was brought about by the Soviet’s opening up. Gorbachev is fighting the old line Communist history and is trying to begin a new era in that part of the world. It has been an amazing time of change since October and it continues. Celebration and mourning mix today in Rumania. The people there have risen up against their Dracula-type leader and they have finally broken the government, although not without a great deal of bloodshed. Most of the other countries accomplished their victories without killing, but in Rumania thousands have died, most of them killed by their former leader’s private police.

Closer to home, four days ago President Bush sent several thousand of our armed forces to invade Panama. An American serviceman was killed last week and so Bush retaliated with this. The main objective was to capture dictator Noriega and place a democratic government in power. The latter was shakily accomplished but seems to be getting its legs under it. Panamanians are not excited about what has happened and probably will not be until N. is captured. I know Bush’s idea was to take the American serviceman’s death as an opportunity to kick Panama’s dictator out, but after all the uplifting progress in Eastern Europe, the Panamanian incident seems ill-timed and a slap in the face of the world spirit.* I realize there is little human-made peace here on earth but I can’t help wondering what is the harm in hope.

On the home front, uncle June, Amos Kenneth Reeves, died in Michigan on Thursday December 14. He had problems over the last couple of years but still, the death was sudden. Ernie spoke with him Monday 12/11 and all was well. Mom spoke with him Wednesday evening 12/13 and he sounded fine but for a little short of breath. He ate breakfast Thursday morning with Eileen and great-granddaughter, Lisa, then laid [sic] down on the couch and soon began gasping for breath. First Eileen, then the paramedics worked on him before he got to the hospital. He was mostly dead all day and had a very unconscious struggle. Mom and Dad, JD, Mac[k], and Ernie left midday on Friday 12/15 and had bad weather and traffic all the way and didn’t arrive in Port Huron until mid-afternoon Sunday. Jerry and I left around 7am from Walnut and got to Ken’s house in Marysville around 8pm. Ken had been taking his father’s death pretty hard but Jerry’s presence seemed to calm him quite a bit. I didn’t want to make the trip at first, having a strong dislike for funerals, but I’m glad I went and I think the family was glad I was there. I will always remember June as laughing and singing and telling stories. I have a wonderful remembrance of him. A few months ago he sent me a tape of himself singing some old gospel and western and Appalachian tunes.

Mac[k] had a prayer at the funeral but said some wonderful things before he prayed. It was a picture of the Reeves boys with June in the center, having the most likeness of character to Papa who begat them all. I sometimes wonder how Mac[k] can do things like that without faltering. Is it strength? Distance? Practice? Showmanship? Sheer talent? I am hoping is it a combination of the first and last. Jerry and I could neither do such a chore, being emotional and choked-up almost to a fault. I cry easily at stupid things and find more strength for worthwhile things. I don’t know that Jerry falters at the stupid, but he chokes completely when the situation is intensely touching. Why are we like that, the both of us?

I saw many relatives on the trip. Dan is not so very square but square enough. Darwin is well and has a beautiful daughter named Dawn. I was extremely surprised to see so many kids I remember as babies, all grown up now. My biggest dread was not so much arriving in Michigan to the sorrow caused by June’s death, but rather knowing that I could not leave without going to see Rod, my older cousin with MS. He’s had the disease for eight years and it has progressed rapidly. He has no use of his legs, vision is bad, speech slurred, head, arms, and hands shake uncontrollably at times. My fear of seeing him was not so much in the disease as in the difference. I last saw him when he was whole and had his family in Walnut. His wife, Diane, sat on the porch with Rod and me until very late. We talked of so many things and established a bond that was never formed when he used to chase and catch and torture me. Still, seeing him was not what I had figured it to be. Beyond all the disease has done to him, he is still the same personality and it wasn’t very long before we laughed and I felt more at ease. I will see him again without so much dread.+

Married life is great. The career has its moments. I will write of these tomorrow perhaps, or at least within the next week.^ It is 2:28am on a busy Christmas Eve and I need to get some sleep. . . .

*Also, the world turned its eyes from the life and death struggle in Rumania to watch the fiasco in Panama, just at the time Rumanians needed world support. I admire those people for pushing their cause through in spite of P. Bush. . . . + I don’t believe I ever saw my cousin Rod alive again after this trip. . . . ^ I didn’t write again until April 26, 1990.

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