My Wonder Years: A Lifelong Friend Remembered
By: Ron Tucker, Guest Writer
It has only been a few weeks since I attended the memorial service of my very close childhood and lifelong friend Leslie Caldwell. News of his passing came as a real shock, and I’m still dealing with it.
Along with another close friend Scotty Adams, we were the 3 Amigos of Tanglewood Acres in Woodruff (we nicknamed ourselves that years later, but it seemed to fit). We were very close in our childhood, pre-teen years (Elementary and Jr. High School), and we remained in touch through the years. I have so many memories I could share and just as many that I’ll forever remain quiet about.
We were outdoor kids for the most part. Summer or winter, it didn’t matter. I don’t remember any of us ever saying we were too cold or too hot. Unless it was raining or if one of us was under “house arrest” by our parents, we were likely riding bikes, playing hide and seek, catching lightning bugs, camping out….in the front yard, or swinging from vines in the woods near our neighborhood. Our vivid imaginations served as our playground. It was the best of times.
As much as we loved the outdoors, at night we were in our respective homes watching our favorite television shows. TV was different then. Most of the programs we watched had some moral lessons that helped teach us values and respect for one another. Shows like The Rifleman, Leave It to Beaver, Dennis the Menace, Hazel, and Bonanza come to mind. Most Saturdays meant a trip to the Matinee at the Hollywood Theater. We loved Westerns, War Movies, and Elvis, but it didn’t really matter. Often, we were the last kids to leave the theater because we were watching the credits. Eventually, we became so knowledgeable about TV shows and movies that we created a Trivia Game that we played if we were bored, or it was raining. This was long before the game Trivia Pursuit. We developed an encyclopedic knowledge of mostly worthless information about TV and Movie stars that we didn’t know.
Leslie and I loved following professional baseball. We had the baseball card collection to prove it too. Our favorite teams were the New York Yankees and the Milwaukee Braves. Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, Eddie Matthews, and Hank Aaron were our favorite players. He and I loved baseball so much that we did a pretend game one lazy afternoon and recorded it on my old reel-to-reel tape recorder. We took box scores from the newspaper and recreated a game. At that time the Baseball Game of the Week was telecast on Saturdays with legendary baseball players turned broadcasters, Pee Wee Reese and Dizzy Dean. Leslie pretended to be Pee Wee, and I was Dizzy. We called the game as they would have, complete with their accents and folksy humor, and we even created our own Falstaff Beer Commercial. I can remember Leslie imitating Dizzy’s creative use of the English language in the commercial then I reminded him that I was Dizzy and he was Pee Wee. We both laughed, carried away with the moment. For pretty much the next 50 years, if we had a written communication, letter, email or Facebook message, he often signed as Pee Wee and I would sign Dizzy. I will surely miss that.
In 1963 I begged my Mom and Dad to let Leslie go on vacation with us to Daytona for the Firecracker 400. Neither of us was big NASCAR fans but we were beach fans. That part was a lot of fun. I remember Daytona being very hot. We were kind of miserable, in fact. My dad always parked in the infield at Daytona. I remember seeing campers everywhere. People were sitting on top of their campers. Leslie and I couldn’t see anything except when the cars came around our part of the speedway. But, boy, could we hear them. It was deafening. Our biggest excitement that day came when we heard Actor Dale Robertson would give the words to start the race, “Gentlemen, start your engines.” We were probably the only people there who knew who he was. We knew him from the TV Western, “Tales of Wells Fargo”. Our TV knowledge did come in handy that day. Not being race fans, we did try to make the best of it. We checked the roster to see who was driving what type of car. We decided to pull for Junior Johnson since he was one of the few driving a Chevrolet. Since Leslie’s Dad, sold cars at the “Chevrolet Place,” as we called it, we figured that would be a good idea. Junior led much of the race before he blew a piston and gave way to two Fords. Anything but a Ford, we said. Not to be, the Fords finished first and second. “Fireball” Roberts won the race, and I think we became fans that day. We just loved his name, I guess. I don’t think Leslie ever told his dad though.
We, three Amigos, were scrappy kids. In fact, I don’t know how we survived our childhood. Adventurous and carefree, we pushed just about everything to the limit. We played hard, got hurt often, but we always brushed it off and kept going. As we grew older and wiser, our attention shifted to other things. I wanted the three of us to play football in our freshman year for the Wolverines, but Leslie and Scotty said they had a better idea. They were going to try out for the band (they said they would meet more girls that way). Yep, that’s what happened. Along the way, Leslie met the love of his life, Karen. They were sweethearts through high school and were the perfect couple. So, it must have been the combination of divine intervention and destiny.
During the Persian Gulf War in 1990/1991, Leslie was Mayor of Woodruff. He wrote me a couple of times saying how proud he was of me. I was equally proud of him. I told him that I had a new appreciation for the Navy. Leslie had served aboard ship as well. I was onboard the USS Iwo Jima at the time. Leslie always let me know that the Marine Corps was part of the Navy. It was in one of his letters that he told me that the high school had started a Yellow Ribbon Campaign. I was encouraged to write to the school and asked them to join in the “Any Service Member” mailing program.
Through the years, we all stayed in touch, visiting each other often when I would come up from Beaufort to visit my family. On one occasion, I called Leslie and asked him to meet me at Scotty’s house. Scotty was in ill health. Without hesitation, he asked what time he should be there. We met at Scotty’s house later that day, and we three Amigos talked for hours. There was a lot of ” remember that time…..” conversation. Scotty’s spirits were lifted by the visit and even Leslie and I got a new bounce in our step from our trip down memory lane. We referred to our childhood as “Our Wonder Years.” Sadly, Scotty passed in 2018, leaving just two Amigos. Leslie spoke and sang at Scotty’s memorial service, and I served as a Pall Bearer. Leslie mentioned some of our escapades at his service. I nervously sat in my seat and listened. For a moment, we got to go back to that wonderful time in our lives.
When Leslie sang at Scotty’s service, I already knew that my mom had requested that Leslie sing at her service someday. We learned this just before she was moved to an assisted living facility in Woodruff in early 2015. She even listed the songs she wanted him and his brother Robin to sing. In December 2019, my mother passed, and Leslie did sing, and Robin gave the final prayer at the graveside. Leslie’s sister Toni was at the service as well. She and my sister Linda were good friends and were at our house a lot. I’m sure if my mom had heard Toni sing, she would have asked her too. She loved her extended family. Little did I know that this would be the last time I would see Leslie before God called him home. I thought we had so much more time. I guess we all did.
Leslie left us all with some precious memories. One that continues to resonate with me is when he told me he had recorded a gospel album. I had just retired from the Marine Corps, and standing in the parking lot of the old Horseshoe Drive-in restaurant, Leslie handed me an audio cassette. I was surprised and proud at the same time. I was so impressed. We played a bit of it. Stunned, I told him he sounds just like Elvis.
We adored Elvis growing up. Little did I know that Leslie would combine his love of Elvis and would take this passion and spread it around to be enjoyed by others. I soon learned that he would often don the sequins and wig of Elvis and perform for the “shut-ins,” as my mom used to call people who were home-bound. He sang for my mom and prayed with her in her room many times. I often listen to his music. One song, in particular, stands out since Elvis also recorded it. That was “Peace in the Valley.” I used to play Leslie’s version over and over on road trips in my car. Now, Leslie has that “peace in the valley.” These lyrics stand out for me now once again,
“There will be peace in the valley for me, someday
There will be peace in the valley for me, oh Lord I pray
There’ll be no sadness, no sorrow
No trouble, trouble I see
There will be peace in the valley for me.”
My buddy Leslie was a good man, a servant of God sent here to make a difference in the lives of so many. His loving family and friends will surely miss him, but we will never forget him. His legacy is secure.
Farewell, my good friend. Until we meet again, rest easy now.
Love you brother….forever, Dizzy.
Author: Tracy Sanders
