JOE, AT THE GROCERY STORE

As Barbara walks and I trudge with my walker to the car, snow falls—flurries unexpectedly float in the damp 9:30 a.m. air. Flakes fly as we head toward Greer, S.C., down Hwy. 101 to the office of Dr. William Parshall Huntington, foot-and-ankle specialist of the Steadman-Hawkins Clinic of the Carolinas, located in the Greer Hospital complex.

“It won’t stick,” Barbara says about the snow.

We endured two weekends of the stuff: first, ice and sleet, then about four inches of snow on the next weekend.

“I think you’ll have to live with it,” Dr. Huntington says of my left Achilles tendon, torn last fall. It had not healed, there was scar tissue, and to correct the issue through surgery, there would be a long difficult recovery. “As long as you don’t have pain … ," he says.

I feel OK about his decision. I am waiting for my right knee to be replaced by Dr. Brayton Shirley, of the same clinic, on April 1, 2026. He replaced the left one a year ago.

I drive us to Greg’s Barber Shop. I usually go three weeks between trims, but snow caused me to stretch my visit to four weeks. Brian meets me at the door before 11:00 a.m. I am his first customer of the day.

“Greg was busy all day, yesterday,” Brian says. “I reckon he got all the snow business.”

Greg Barnes, the shop owner, who works by himself on Wednesdays, had a bumper-crop day. Brian is off on Wednesdays. He mentions that snow days hurt their business. I wonder if his wife’s job will make up for his financial shortfall.

“Take a good bit off and taper a little in the back,” I tell Brian.

Several customers enter the shop while I am in Brian’s chair near the front door. Greg comes out of his curtained office and says, “Next.”

Greg is a little younger than I am and lives near us in the Blue Ridge area of Greenville County. He lives next to where the new branch of the Greenville County Library opened (near Few’s Chapel Methodist Church, intersection of Few’s Bridge Road and Hwy. 101). Barbara says she had to take her children to a Greenville County Library bookmobile that came there when they were young, as there was no library in her area. Barbara and I haven’t been to the new library, yet, but plan to visit.

Brian finishes my haircut and shaves the back of my neck. That shave beats out the “Great Clips” places that offer lower “special” prices. Most of them can legally only use clippers on the neck, not razors. Greg’s Barber Shop is old-style, a man’s shop where walk-ins get first-come-first-serve turns in a chair. Haircuts are $18. Tips are appreciated.

I leave the shop as Brian holds the door for me and my walker. I hope to get back to just using a cane after my next knee replacement. But I discovered at ATI-PT therapy that I have some balance issues too. I have watched videos on “improving balance.” The balance thing comes with aging, they say.

I move to the car and wait only minutes before Barbara returns from Safe Harbor, a charity consignment shop, which is a few doors down from Greg’s Barber Shop. She has two skeins of yard, a beige and a green, and a pair of earrings. She crochets.

We motor toward the Greer Walmart in the Greer Plaza, that includes Belk’s. Barbara spots a parking space next to one designated for “Police.” We take that one and find a shopping cart with a bad wheel. It get us to the store; I walk behind it to avoid bringing my walker along. Inside Walmart, I see three battery-powered, motorized riding carts! Yeah! Sometimes there are none. But today the cold weather has kept some handicapped people away. Barbara takes the shopping buggy, and I place my walking cane inside the shopping cage in front of the motorized cart. I turn the cart on as I sit down. I see it is “80 percent” charged and zip off toward the cucumbers, tomatoes, and green peppers, as Barbara messes with hard-to-open plastic bags for each of those items.

We move through each aisle. We skip the refrigerated eggs because Michael Campbell brought cartoned eggs to Faith Temple’s prayer meeting last night, and we gladly took home a dozen.

We buy vanilla Oreos for Jack Robertson, who works, at times, in the garage out back of Barbara’s house. There are prunes, coffee creamer for Barbara, a bottle of honey, wheat bread, and other items. I park near the candy aisle and wait for Barbara. While she’s gone, a thin man pushes his cart near me.

“I can see you’re young because you have a full head of hair,” he says, commenting on my white hair that had just been trimmed.

“Well, I’ll be 79 in a month,” I tell him.

“I’m 82,” he says. He has on a ball cap. I can’t see his scalp to see if he has a “full head of hair.”

“Look what I’ve got,” he says. He has 12 Dark Chocolate bars in his shopping buggy. That’s all he has in his cart. “Dark chocolate is good for your brain. … Are you a local?”

“I am,” I say. “And you?”

“I came here about 35 years ago,” he says.

“I’m Steve. What’s your name?”

He takes off his gloves, and we shake hands.

“Joe,” he says. He told about working for General Mills and starting restaurants around the U.S.

“In Colorado, I had to draw plans for a highway lane, because the restaurant was to attract 18-wheelers, etc.” he says. He told about his brother-in-law dying last fall, and his sister dying in December. I wonder if he feels lonely and struck up a conversation with me, a guy sitting idly in a motorized store cart. He says his sister had a gift of alphabetizing the letters in a word, something she did naturally.

“She was what they call an ‘alphabetizer.’ Say, you have the word ‘Oreo,’ she would automatically think e-o-o-r,” he said. “And she could do it with longer words.”

I wonder if that mental quirk of a “gift” could be part of some obsessive-compulsive behavior and might not always be positive. I surmise that his sister was a smart cookie, and he was grieving her absence.

Joe seems like such a warm person. Why had he chosen to talk with me? Is he depending on “the kindness of strangers” to get him through tough times? I feel the urge to inquire about his eternal preparation.

“Do you believe in the Lord Jesus Christ?” I ask Joe.

“Yes, I do,” he says. “I watch Charles Stanley, a Southern Baptist, and another preacher every Sunday morning.” He says other things hinting that his faith is real.

“It’s important to trust the Lord as we get older,” I say, thinking of his age … and my own.

Barbara shows up by my side. She looked all over the store for me, because she had gone on shopping while I lingered behind with Joe. I say, “This is my wife, Barbara.”

We soon part with Joe. He proceeds to a self-checkout area. We move to a lane where Barbara would stack goods onto a moving belt that leads to the hands of a checkout person. We wait behind several people ahead of us. I hope the ice cream isn’t getting soft. It seems some people ahead of us are having difficulty with their credit. As we wait, a young Walmart employee approaches us. She holds something in her hand and says, “He didn’t know how to do this, so I told him to pay for them and I would come back and give them to you.”

I recognize two Dark Chocolate candy bars and immediately know where they come from. I look past the checkout line we are waiting in. There, beyond the crowd of folk checking out, stands Joe with his shopping cart, ready to leave the store. He smiles and points toward us. I smile back and point toward him.

Dark Chocolate is good for the brain, Joe says. It’s good for the soul, too. 

Ms. JAN WATERS PASSES -- A DETERMINED LADY

Ms. Jan Waters of Taylors, SC

Mr. David Styles and Ms. Jan Waters

Jan Waters as a child

  The name “David” is hand-carved into a cement section of Ms. Jan Waters’ driveway. We recently (Sept. 2025) visited Jan in her 4-room frame house in rural Taylors, SC. My wife, Barbara, and I brought “Rocky Road” ice cream—Jan’s favorite, she says. 

  She spends most of her time in a wheelchair. Tim Waters, her brother, lives next door and is two years older than Jan. The late Mr. Don and Mrs. Doris Waters were their parents. 

   Jan, 55, has a helper who comes to her house for seven days each week (5.5 hours weekdays and three hours each Sat./Sun.).

    “They help me do all kinds of stuff. My biggest difficulty in living here by myself is not being able to reach something if I need it,” she says.

  Jan was born on Feb. 5, 1970, with cerebral palsy, which affects movement and posture. 

  “My parents didn’t know right away that I had it,” Jan says. “They finally took me to the doctor when I was one-and-a-half years old. They did tests and discovered it was cerebral palsy.”

  She had surgery at age two.

  “Because my muscles were so tight, they went in and clipped them so they would grow as I grew,” she says. “I had surgeries, sometimes every six months, for a while. I’ve had more surgeries than my age.”  

  Jan has a long connection with Faith Temple Church (FT) in Taylors and is related, through her mother, to Mrs. Joyce Rainey Yoder, a FT member.

  “I think my mama was going to Faith Temple when I was born,” she says. “She went with my aunt, Evelyn Crumley. My dad went sometimes.”

  Jan accepted Jesus Christ at age six at the church. 

  “I’ll never forget it,” she says. “Pastor Jimmy Thompson was preaching, and I was sitting beside my mama, and we always had little toys we brought to church. She noticed I was not playing with my toys. I was leaned up against her, listening. He preached on John 3:16. At the end of the service, he said that if anyone wanted prayer or wanted to receive Christ, to come on down. So I waddled out of my seat and told Mama to get my walker—I used a walker back then. And she said, ‘Where you going?’ I said, ‘Just get me my walker.’” 

  Her mother saw Jan was going to the altar.

  “She followed behind me and grabbed my brother by the arm and said, ‘You’re coming too,’ because he didn’t want to go down,” Jan says. “Pastor Thompson knelt down and asked me what I wanted. I said, ‘I want prayer and I want to be a Christian.’ He started crying, and my mama was squalling. He led me to the Lord. I’ll never forget that.”

 

  Jan attended school first at Paris Elementary. 

  “It was hard. They didn’t know how to deal with someone who was handicapped,” she says. “We finally found a school that did. It was Sarah Collins Elementary. I walked with crutches and had braces, too. I went first through fifth. I went to Beck Middle, sixth through eighth grade. I hated Beck—there were so many people that picked on me.”

  She attended ninth through twelfth grades at J.L. Mann High School and graduated.

  “I sure did. Thank you, Jesus! Get me out of there!” she says. “I liked science and English. I loved to write. I’d write short stories.”

  She usually rode a bus to school.

  “During my junior and senior year, I paid my mama to take me to school,” she says. “The bus came so early, and then you didn’t get home until late.”

  After graduation, she met David Styles by way of Mrs. Susan Lord.

   “Susan worked with him in an office and asked him if he’d like to meet somebody,” Jan says. “I didn’t know she was going to do that. She asked me the same thing, and I said, ‘Sure, I’m all for it.’ I was just fresh out of high school. I graduated when I was 20. He was 34. My mama had a problem with it. My daddy told her to leave me alone. She didn’t like it that he was a little bit older.”

  David had Arthrogryposis, deformity of the bones. 

  “He wore braces on his legs,” Jan says. “His feet were size 13 in children’s shoes. He had little feet and little legs, and one arm was drawn up. But he managed to learn to drive and held down some jobs. He graduated from Travelers Rest High School in 1974, I think.”

  He drove, and they went on their first date.    

  “We went to Carolina Fine Foods and got hamburger plates and fries, and he’d never been on a date or had a girlfriend,” Jan says. “He was so nervous. He picked up his hamburger to take a bite, and he dropped it in the floor. I was trying my best not to laugh, but he picked it up and ate it, anyway. I offered him mine, but he said, ‘Nope.’”

  They were boyfriend-girlfriend for 32 years.

  “We used to love to go to the airport and watch planes,” Jan says. “He went to Faith Temple sometimes, but he was strictly Baptist. He’d come to church if I was in a play or something.” 

  David drove a special van that could lift Jan’s wheelchair; he took her to many medical appointments. 

 

  After graduation, she waited two years and “got into” Gardner-Webb University, Boiling Springs, NC, in 1993.

  “I stayed about eight months,” Jan says. “I enjoyed the challenge of the classes, but it really took a toll on my body. I didn’t realize how hard it would be.”

  She returned to her parents’ house in 1993. In 1995, she moved to Towers East Apartments. She lived there three years and moved to Beverly Apartments in Greer for four years. Her grandmother died, and Jan moved into the house her grandmother willed to her. 

  “I’ve lived here 25 years,” she says. “My dad’s mother was Janet Waters. She had this house built for herself before I was born. She used to live across the road, where my parents lived.”

  Jan had her legs removed to her mid-femurs around 20 years ago (2005) because of sores and lymphatic issues. (Lymphedema: swelling caused by a buildup of lymph fluid in the body's soft tissues.)

  “My mother opposed the amputations, but I was ready,” Jan says. “My doctor was right there when I woke up from surgery. He asked me how I was feeling. I said, ‘I’m sleepy.’ He wanted me to sit up and talk to him a little bit. I got awake, and he said, ‘Are you ready to see it,’ and I said, ‘Yeah.’ My mom at this point had not seen it, and she broke down when she saw my legs gone. My first comment was ‘Well, I’m half the woman I used to be.’ The doctor said, ‘I’m glad you’re taking it as well as you are.’”

  

  Her parents had dementia; they died on Dec. 27 and 28, 2019. 

  “Dad first, and mom within 24 hours,” she says. “Their anniversary is Dec. 23. I prayed God would let them live long enough to see that, even though Mom had already gone into a coma. I wanted them to be alive and together on their 60th anniversary. They passed away four days later. I miss them every day.” 

  David died of congestive heart failure at age 67.  

  “That was July 21, 2023,” Jan says. “It was tough; it’s still hard, but I know where he is. I know one day I’ll see him again. He was raised in Enoree Baptist Church.”

  After that, Jan had to schedule medical transport rides to get to appointments.

  She says the Lord has “been there,” and kept her from becoming depressed and taking lots of anxiety medicines. 

  “I simply refuse now to be that way,” she says. “Jesus doesn’t want us depressed or sad. He says in His word that He will be with you, that he will walk with you through those waters. And he has me.”

  Sometimes pity parties happen.

  “Then I usually start digging in the Word,” she says. “Find something. Get me out of that slump! It gets hard, sometimes, being here by myself. I usually can find stuff to occupy my time. I like to look up stuff on the internet, listen to my Bible, find different devotions. I like to send Bible verses to people or find somebody that might need a phone call, just to cheer somebody up. I look up a lot of stuff about nature and animals.”

  She says Pastor Raymond D. Burrows and Faith Temple has been helpful.

  “They’ve been there for me through thick and thin,” she says. “I’ve called him and talked with him. He’s seen me go through a lot, too.”

 “I'm an open book,” she says. “You can ask me anything. Sometimes people are afraid to ask about disabilities; they’re afraid of offending someone. But, if you want to know, ask me."

  “God gives me the strength, and He’s been good to me," Jan says. "I give Him the glory. I’m not going to lie, and tell you I haven’t asked questions like ‘Why?’ But I always get the answer back, in the Bible, of ‘I know what I’m doing. Trust me.’

   “It’s not an easy road, but none of us were given an easy road. You just have to hang on to the Unseen Hand, and know that He will get you through it. And I choose to be happy in every situation, whether I’m in the hospital or sick. I don’t want to be down and stay down because I think that’s when the devil can get in and really do some damage. So I try to keep my phone, and Bible verses, and stay in the Word as much as I can. I listen to different preachers, and my favorite preacher is RDB, Pastor Raymond D. Burrows. We need people with skin to ‘be there.’ I know I can call on him any time if I need something. He’s been there for me."

    

  Jan died at her home on either Monday night, Nov. 24, 2025, or the next morning before her caregiver arrived. The fire department entered the home. Jan wanted her body to be cremated and for no funeral service to be held. She had a strong and determined soul.

Obituary

Janet Waters, passed away peacefully on November 25, 2025, in Taylors, SC. Born on February 5, 1970, in Greenville, SC, Jan was a beacon of faith and joy, inspiring those around her with her, loving soul, and whose kindness touched the hearts of many with her warm spirit and genuine affection.

Described as both funny and kind, Jan possessed an unwavering love for her family and friends. Her passion for life was evident in her many interests, particularly her love for planes and unwavering support for the Clemson Tigers. She found great joy in shopping online, often delighted by the thrill of a good deal. The Piedmont Park Fire Department held a special place in her heart, serving as a source of inspiration and admiration.

Jan's love for Christian music was another significant aspect of her life, providing her with both comfort and joy. She cherished her family deeply and created bonds that will forever be remembered in the hearts of those she leaves behind.

Jan is survived by her brother, Tim Waters, her nephews, Austin Waters (Jaspher) and Quentin Hernandez (Taylor Ann), her niece, Katie Owens (Dakota), and her niece, Alida Waters (Will). She was also a proud aunt to five great nieces and nephews, whose lives she enriched with her love and laughter.

Jan is preceded in death by her partner, David Styles, who will forever be remembered in the memories they shared together.

Her legacy of love, faith, and humor will continue to shine brightly through the lives she has touched. Janet's spirit will always be alive in the hearts of those who had the privilege of knowing her. Janet Waters: her spirit touched the lives of many. 

ROY SHELTON THOMPSON, a Good Friend

 

Roy Thompson

  The last house I visited when leaving Moore County, North Carolina, in 2018, was Roy S. Thompson’s house in the Town of Aberdeen.  

  Opal, Roy’s wife, answered the door— Roy was watching “Gunsmoke” was on ME TV. I sent cards after that morning visit or talked to Roy by phone. 

  

I met Roy after joining JPS Carpet’s product development department in Aberdeen in April 1989. My wife, Carol, and our girls (Janelle and Suzanne) moved with me from Kernersville, NC, to a house we bought in Southern Pines. 

  

I started out in 1974 as one of nine designers at Bigelow Carpet, Greenville, SC, a carpet manufacturer. I worked there 14 years and then Karastan Carpet (Eden, NC) bought Bigelow, and my family and I moved to Kernersville, N.C. Then I hired as a color designer with JPS Carpet (known as Stevens Carpet, later called JPS Carpet, and in 1995 renamed Gulistan). (Three towns form a triangle in the Sandhills of Moore County, N.C.: Southern Pines, Aberdeen, and Pinehurst. In 2018, there were 42 golf courses in Moore County.)

  

Roy, eight years my senior, worked as lead technician in our  Gulistan pilot plant that housed miniature machines of most of the production machines standing in our “tufting” plant. That production plant sat across an employee parking lot from the product development pilot plant. Our job was to design new products for Gulistan.

  

Roy worked for Stevens when weaving was popular, but the “tufting method” largely took over residential carpet products. Sources say, “The tufting method creates carpet by using a high-speed machine with hundreds of needles to push yarn through a primary backing material, forming loops that can be left as-is for a loop pile or cut to create a cut pile. This process … allows for a variety of textures and styles. After tufting, a latex adhesive is applied to the back, and a secondary backing is added for stability and to lock the yarn in place.” 

  

When I arrived in 1989, Roy worked for Brady Grubbs and Charlie Kennedy who were under John Weller, our VP of Product Development. Other employees in our department included Dale Meacham, Jerry Holt, Arnold Seawell, Joe Kimball, Dilline Shanon, Robert Jackson, Bruce Douglas, and Ralph Houghton. 

  

Our pilot plant contained offices and produced sample (30-inch by 36-inch or so) prototypes of possible new products. If the company wished to introduce a product, then a selected sample was reproduced in 12-foot-wide carpets. Roy worked at making samples.

  

Roy was a tall (6ft-1inch or so) slender, quiet fellow with graying hair. At our first meeting, I noticed “Shirley” tattooed on one of his upper arms. I met his wife and when he introduced her as his “wife” and not by her name, I said, “Glad to meet you, Shirley.” She said her name was “Opal” and made no comment about “Shirley,” but a slight red tinge colored Roy’s face. He later explained the “Shirley” tattoo was done early in life. He served in Germany with the U.S. Army. On Nov. 22, 1963, when headed home from Germany by ship, Roy heard that President John F. Kennedy had been assassinated. 

  

“We thought we might have to return to Germany because the President had been shot,” Roy said. “But we didn’t.”

  

Over the years at our company, Roy worked steadily, often staying late to accommodate Charlie Kennedy, who was full of product ideas and rose to be Gulistan’s president. I can’t remember when Roy retired from Gulistan, but we missed him.

  

Finally, I retired in Jan. 2013, within two months of being age 66 because I was “let go” as the company went bankrupt. A press release stated, “Gulistan, headquartered in Aberdeen, N.C., and with plants in Turnersburg and Wagram, filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy and closed its N.C. facilities in 2013, leading to the loss of about 395 jobs.”

  

In 2017, my wife, who had suffered from pulmonary hypertension since 2013, felt we should move back to the Greenville, S.C., area. We bought a house in Taylors, S.C. In 2018, I returned to Southern Pines to assure painting was done on our NC house before we sold it. I left our house for the last time and stopped by Roy’s on the way out of town. 

  

In phone conversations, I learned Roy’s son, Gregory Thompson, a military veteran of Iraq, died. 

  

Roy went three times a week for kidney dialysis. He no longer drove but rode by medical transport to FirstHealth Moore Regional Hospital—Pinehurst. He said his wife, Opal, was experiencing dementia. A few times he asked me to talk with her on the phone. I wondered if he did so to let me know the progression of her condition. She asked Roy for answers if I asked anything in detail. Roy said she didn’t cook because she couldn’t recall recipes. Kidney dialysis drained Roy. He said he was very tired after each dialysis he endured. He told me was trusting Jesus.

  

One day I called Roy and Opal answered. She said Roy, 84, born Oct. 18, 1938, had died. 

  

“He came back from dialysis and was sitting in a chair, and he just fell over,” Opal said. “We’ve all got to go sometime.” 

  

Opal’s niece was at the residence, and I spoke with her. She said her family were going to look after Opal, she said. I called later, and the house phone had been disconnected. I miss Roy and Opal’s friendship. 

  

Roy’s obituary: “Roy S. Thompson, 84, of Aberdeen passed away on Wednesday, August 30, 2023.

 

“Roy was preceded in death by his parents Andrew and Alma Thompson; sisters Gladys Parker and Ann Williams; brother Lewis Thompson; and a son, Gregory Thompson.  He leaves behind a wife Opal Thompson; two grandchildren, Drew (Dylan) and Meagan Thompson; two beautiful great granddaughters, Caroline and Rose.” 

Judge or Not Judge -- Which?

   A young couple moved to a new neighborhood, and as they ate breakfast the next day, the young woman noticed her neighbor hanging her laundry outside to dry.

“Look at the dirty laundry!” she exclaimed to her husband. “She doesn’t know how to wash properly. Perhaps she needs better laundry soap.” 

  Her husband, remaining silent, continued to observe. Each time the neighbor hung out her washing, the young woman criticized her neighbor’s cleaning skills. 

  

A month later, the young woman was surprised to see the neighbor’s wash hanging out, looking remarkably clean and bright. 

  

“Look,” she said to her husband. “She’s finally learned how to wash correctly. I wonder who taught her this.” 

  

The husband replied, “I actually got up early this morning and cleaned our windows” (an internet story).  

  

Jesus says, “Judge not that ye be not judged” (Matthew 7:1). 

  

Sowing and reaping come to mind.

  

Jesus continues, “For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. 

  “Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye. … You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye” (Matt. 7:2-5 ESV).

  

“Most of us can be quite judgmental,” says Mike Robbins, a writer. “It seems to ebb and flow based on my own level of confidence, inner peace, and fulfillment.”

  

We try to bring people down to our level so we can feel better about ourselves, Robbins says, and we “project” our stuff onto other people. He gives an example: “If we have not accepted our own arrogance, we will notice lots of arrogant people around us and have a very hard time with them.” He says judging can be helpful if it makes us more aware of our own need to nurture love, acceptance, and reconciliation.

  

“The average Christian is the most piercingly critical individual known,” Oswald Chambers says. “Criticism serves to make you harsh, vindictive and cruel, and leave you with the soothing and flattering idea that you are somehow superior to others. … I have never met a person I could despair of, or lose all hope for, after discerning what lies in me apart from the grace of God.”

  

“True judgment should be done with a desire for restoration rather than shame,” someone said. 

  

St. Paul says “But he that is spiritual judgeth all things” (1 Cor. 2:15). 

  

Jesus saying “Judge not that you be not judged” means we can expect to get back from other people the same kind of judgment we apply to them, while Paul saying “judge all things” refers to “spiritual discernment, using God’s standards to test and understand things with the guidance of the Holy Spirit,” sources say.