Celebrating a Deathday™: Chitter-chatterer for the ages, Corabeth Walton Godsey of Walton’s Mountain died on this day June 14, 2016. She was 83. The wife of storekeeper Isaac “Ike” Godsey, Corabeth had a grace and style that belied her humble position and whilst not the wealthiest of mountaineers — that title would fall to the medicinal making Baldwin Sisters — she was blessed with riches beyond money, including her infamous, illustrative gift of gab and the love of adoptive daughter Aimee. The station house remembers Corabeth with fondness and to honour her passing, we all contributed to this eulogy — trading couplets like chin-haired coffeehousers rockin' a poetry slam, and shedding real tears for the stately town crier. Rest well, good lady.
"Funeral Blue Monday"
Stop all the clocks, cut off the station house phone;
Garnish the HoneyBaked® spiraled hambone.
Silence the player piano and with muffled humdrum,
Commence the funereal luncheon, let the mourners come.
Let rubber-banded aeroplanes circle overhead;
Whilst website administrator Sheffield tweets “She Is Dead.”
Put crepe paper bows ‘round the necks of white doves;
Whilst Yours Truly Dooley™ dons black cotton gloves.
She was my North, my South, my NorthEast and SouthWest,
My working Leatherman® compass, my Sunday blessed.
My noonish, my midnight, my straight talk and plainsong;
I thought unrequited love lasted forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: Put them out, one by one;
Corabeth Walton Godsey is gone, dismantle the sun.
Pour out the Ocean Spray® and sweep up the floor;
For no good will come calling at our screened patio door.
