The Jackson Sun from Jackson, Tennessee • 21

ILJiwnEJCE- SEcftw SUNDAY, AUGUST 23, 1992 JACKSON, TENN. Vest Tennessee Diary By Mary Pat Rowland Sun reporter rv'-j jA vf 4-u lU "SJiJjf 'xvi 'I' 1 1 t9flM ill WBprHW fffffficft Story by Greg Kocher You gotta have heart Lawson Goff has had a change of heart. On the evening of April 26 and the early hours of the 27th, Goff received a heart transplant to replace his own ailing one. Goff had suffered two heart attacks since 1987 resulting in severe damage to his heart. The 57-year-old Bemis resident had waited a year for his new heart when he got a beep on his pager about 3 p.m.

on a spring Sunday afternoon while he and his wife, Carolyn, were out for a drive. Goff has been carrying the pager on his belt since he got on the transplant list. It was to be the way he'd get the word when a heart was available. "When did you last change that battery?" asked his wife of 38 years. "Yesterday," he replied.

"Then this means business," she said. Goff drove directly to his daughter's house in Oakfield to call Vanderbilt University Hospital. The staffer he talked to asked him to be on stand-by because they had a heart and were deciding between Goff and another man who was on I ill The pristine moment is one that nature provides effortlessly, time after time, with quiet grace. Under a rust-colored sky, the saguaro cacti stretch their "arms" into the air, as if to pay respect to the source of their sustenance. And Gary Chandler of McKenzie was there to capture the moment.

His outstanding photograph of the Arizona sunset was picked as the color winner of The Jackson Sun's annual Kodak International Newspaper Snapshot Awards. A trio of judges Owen Cobb, Glen Weatherly and Kevin Eans picked Chandler's photo as the top shot. "I'm really surprised and pleased," Chandler said. "I've been Please see PICTURE, 3C ii 'ii lit' First place winner, Arizona sunset by Gary Chandler, at left. Top photo was the third place winner, Trae Hancock.

Right photo above of winding road is the sixth place winner by Nancy Collins-Staggs. Finally, even though the newspaper story already had told me so, I called the store, and asked, "The lady who died, was that the nice, pretty lady who worked at night?" I guess I wanted somebody to sayf, "No. It wasn't her. The newspaper lied." "Yes," said a voice barely above a whisper. I tried to mumble something understanding; whatever it was, it came out in an inarticulate jumble.

I hung up the phone and picked up the newspaper again. Multiple gunshot wounds. I don't know why this had to happen. I don't know what the motive for it was. All I know for sure is that somebody died, violently and too young, somebody I thought was special.

But I couldn't find the 10 seconds it would have taken to tell her so. And now niiever have the chance. ft lTUi. i'i'i. 1 the list.

"It was just like Bush and Clinton," he says with a chuckle. "We didn't know who was going to be the winner." Soon Goff found out he was to be the "winner," so he and his wife loaded up and said good-bye to Lawson the dog, and he Goff hopped into the driver's seat. They stopped to pick up some relatives on the way and had a small caravan goi ng own 1-40 to Nashvi 1 le. It was like a parade, Goff says a fast parade. "I was driving with my flashers on and the cruise control set on 85," he says.

The family arrived at Vanderbilt University Hospital shortly after 9 p.m., and the seven-hour surgery began about 11 p.m., Goff says. The next thing he knew, he was in the recovery room where a nurse told him he had a new heart. "You're kidding," Goff said to the nurse. All it took to convince him was putting his hand to his chest where he felt the bandages. "There was no pain or nausea or anything," Goff says.

Four days later, the former mechanic at Tennessee Textiles was up and walking. Soon he walked a mile or more around the corridors every day. He was hospitalized two weeks, and rehabilitation lasted five weeks. But even before he was discharged, Goff got to spend several weekends at home away from the hospital setting, he says. Doctors had told Goff to expect to be hospitalized at least two to three months when they had discussed the surgery with him, so he says he was happy to beat their prediction.

"The good Lord did a good job with me," says Goff. "The doctors did their part, too." Since he left the hospital, Goff is feeling good, he says, but he has to have a bookkeeping system to keep up with all the medicine he takes. "I took 14 pills at breakfast this morning," he says. Goff and his wife have had a switch of responsibilities since the surgery, too. He now does most of the cooking.

"She put me to cookin' thinking we might both lose weight," he says, "but I turned out to be a better cook than she is and we've both gained some. I'm kinda fat and short-winded now." But he's happy. Goff says he didn't realize "a little grease monkey had so many friends." AMEN CORNER Draw near to God and He will draw near to you; Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded. James 4:8 3 TO THE EDITOR Regional editor Carla Johnson KimbrouKh can be reached at 425-Bti87. Metro Editor DianH Branum can be reached at 425-968.

Reader Services Kditor Michael Mercer is at 425-WS80. TopicsProjects Editor Robert T. Moore can be readied at 425-9689. In West Tennessee outside Madison County, readers can toll-iree 1-800-372-3922. Photo of boats in rainy weather won third place for Jessie Whitaker.

The storm over the canyon photo won fourth for Mark Bedwell, and the photo of 6-month-old Martin Bennett and Honey the Labrador retriever won fifth for Harold B. Key. 1 'Round the corner By Delores Ballard Sun senior writer cial customer signed a credit voucher that allowed me to charge my groceries. Supermarkets don't do that every day. It was one of those little customer service touches that made Irene a special lady.

That was the last time we talked to each other. And to tell the truth, I wasn't even sure what the nice lady's name was until that night, when I made a point to learn so that I could Violent death rumbles steady routine of life send her a thank-you note. Wednesday morning, a headline in heavy type topped the front page: "Shooting of woman probed." I glanced at it, thought, "More bad news," and poured myself a cup of coffee. A few minutes later, in a phone conversation about the morning's big news, a friend commented, "Wasn't that the nice lady from Hays?" I grabbed the paper and scanned the story. Irene James' name jumped out like a neon sign.

It was like a blow to the stomach with a heavy, blunt object. I kept staring at it, while the words "multiple gunshot wounds" played over and over in my head like a broken record of a song nobody wanted to hear. There was a photo of ambulance attendants removing the body from the house. I didn't look closely at it. I couldn't.

It is difficult enough to cope with, this business of dying. But when somebody dies before their time, senselessly, violently it leaves you trying to untangle a twisted snarl of pain and confusion and unanswered "why's." Walking into Hays Supermarket on Tuesday night, I first noticed that Irene James was not in the manager's cubicle as always. There was no big smile, no musical "Hello, Miss Ballard" that customarily greeted my entry. I didn't give it a whole lot more thought, except to remember that on one of the last recent visits to the supermarket, I had rung up a cartful of groceries only to learn that I had run out of blank checks. Embarrassed, I went to the manager's cubicle, where Irene James the pretty, gracious night manager who always made me feel like a spe-.