How we can best honor those who battle cancer
By Roy Ockert Jr.
May 31, 2014
Before we left, I walked through the basement of Hot Springs First Methodist Church, where I first learned the stories and songs of Jesus. I was there, for the second time in two weeks, to honor the memory of others who had been in the same Sunday school classes so long ago.
We had gone on to graduate together from Hot Springs High School about this time of year in 1963, then went our separate ways — for education, families and careers — just occasionally staying in touch.
The lives of Mike Hardgrave and Susan Ellis Goodrum ended much too soon and in very different ways. Mike, who had married another member of our class, died suddenly, unexpectedly, while on vacation far from his home in South Carolina. Susan fought cancer for eight years, surviving it three times, once with the help of a liver transplant, before finally losing the battle.
An organizer after my own heart, she had time to plan her own memorial service. And what a great job she did, starting with the quotation of a poem by Christina Rossetti which begins, “Sing no sad songs for me. ...,” and highlighted by a rousing rendition of “His Eye on the Sparrow,” sung by a friend.
The daughter of former Garland County Sheriff Leonard Ellis, she was born and raised in Hot Springs, went to college in Missouri, then returned home to stay. She was married in the same church and served it well, including a 7-year stint as choir director. A wonderful singer, her voice was well-known and loved by regulars. She loved being “the wedding singer.”
The eldest son of Susan and husband Buddy pointed out, though, that the strength of her voice meant he had no recourse as a child when she called him home. “The dog heard it first,” Skip Goodrum, one of three sons recalled in his eulogy, then the rest of the neighborhood.
Susan put her passion for music into teaching at various Hot Springs schools for more than 20 years and her talent for organization into leadership of the Hot Springs Classroom Teachers Association.
She was one of those rare people who never met a stranger and treated everyone with kindness. If you were fortunate enough to be her friend, you had a really good one for life. Years before her own cancer diagnosis, she became the strongest supporter of several friends who had their own battles with the disease. It was only natural then that she would have a strong and broad support group herself when she needed it.
I reconnected with Susan in 2003 when, feeling guilty about the death of a close friend I had not seen in years, I asked her if there was anything I could do to help with our class’ upcoming 40-year reunion. She and another classmate had been the primary organizers of the first three reunions, two of which I had missed.
Of course, she put me to work immediately and guided me through various assignments, both that year and later with 45-year and 50-year reunions. However, after the 40-year she decided that the guys in our class should plan the next few, and she took on an advisory role.
By then she was fighting cancer, and the next year she had the transplant.
Later, after reading about a young man in New York who was needing a liver transplant, she offered this encouragement to her Facebook friends: “I just want to impress upon my family and friends to list yourselves as a donor on your driver's license. I know if I had lived in New York I would most likely not be here today. It is so sad that there could be plenty of donors if they would only list their wishes. I am so lucky and thank God and my donor every day for his gift of life.”
Last year, when our class held its 50-year reunion, Susan was in the midst of her third battle with cancer. For the first time she was unable to attend our main event, a Saturday night banquet, but that was mostly because it was the same night she was to be presented with the Karen Rutledge Survivor Award for Community Service by Our Promise, a support foundation for people going through cancer.
However, she came to our Sunday morning memorial service for our 36 deceased classmates. Afterward, while several of us were standing around talking, not really wanting to say good-bye, Susan joked that she might be on the list next time. Sadly, she will be.
A few years ago, after I wrote a column about one of our reunions, she sent me a note: “You’ve really become the writer of our class.” Actually, I had been in high school, when I was editor of the student newspaper for two years. But then I lost touch for too long.
Whether I am again or not, I can testify that Susan is the spirit of our class. And we can best honor her and others who have battled cancer by signing on as potential donors and contributing to organizations which seek a cure and-or support those who have cancer.
Roy Ockert is editor emeritus of The Jonesboro Sun. He may be reached by e-mail at royo@suddenlink.net.