Rest In Peace

Duvall was laid to rest today. I did not know him, but I cherish and respect his daughter, so he must have been a good man. Friends and family came and overflowed the simple black church in Marshall, Va., at the beginning of a hot July morning. A narrow country lane lined with oak and maple trees led to the church. We parked our cars on the grass, and as flat tombstones surfaced, we had to be careful not to park on a loved one. A viewing preceded the service with greetings, hugs, handshakes and introductions made amongst attendees. Tears became waterfalls only to dry up and recharge.

The church lent a cool solace to the hot sun, and one could see the parishioners' handiwork in the stonework of the building as we entered. Wooden pews led to a viewing area where Duvall was placed between two torch lamps with rose shades that cast a warm heavenly glow. Perhaps it provided a vision of the upcoming journey. The small church was overflowing, and more chairs had to be brought into the sanctuary. And as time passed, the sanctuary was enlarged conveniently into the social hall. How many times had this happened in the past and would continue into the future?

Sitting there looking forward, I could see everyone arrive and sit in front of Duvall or with others in the social hall as the crowd swelled. And while wearing black was considered to be socially correct, many chose to adorn their dress with a striking hat or engaging tie. The church itself was bathed in a filtered light that boldly entered the painted windows, while overhead the brass ceiling fans moved the air. And the air soon filled with all sorts of wonderful aromas as fresh cooked fried chicken and ham, potato salad and breads were placed in the back room of the hall. Small talk halted as we paused to take in the nurture of small town America on a hot July morning.

Duvall was laid to rest today in a small church in a village that witnessed visitors on other hot July days long ago as troops crisscrossed the area bound for battle in the woods and fields nearby. This was a church that, for a century and a half has held the memories of many families and born the happiness and grief of Southern history.

And this was another day in a new century. All who pass have memories of a new conflict and will be inescapably linked due to the events of Sept. 11, leaving us our own somber and everlasting remembrance.

Duvall was a good man; we would know this from the simplicity of the love and sharing that passed in this church. With a full heart, we left the church, its history and special memories on the narrow lane, and continued our own journey onto the interstate, past the farms, back to the city.

Duvall was laid to rest today.

— Scott Tilley

Courtesy of The Church of the Good Shepherd United Methodist