I didn't know many of my husband Camp's friends on a personal level, but I did get to know many of your personalities through his words. My assignment was to make sure his friends on his list received birthday cards, Christmas and other holiday cards. His women friends (girlfriends I often jokingly call you) got Valentine's Day cards. I always tried to match the card to the individual personality whenever I was told he needed a card for someone. If you loved pets, you might receive a card with a picture of a pet on front.
If you had a sense of humor, your card reflected that. Others received cards based on their faith or something general.
Camp valued each and every one of you in a very special way. I'm trying. I really am, but my mind draws a blank and my brain continues to go into lockdown when attempting to write something special in each Thank You card for the well wishes, encouragement, uplifting words and offers of help everyone has sent to the family. We miss him terribly. But I also feel blessed for the memory and love for over 40 years we shared.
I know at this rate, it might take a year, years even, to get these cards out, even with help from our daughter who lives in another state.
How do I put into special words, thanking the postal workers he made it a point to meet each day to pick up the mail? And they in turn took the time out of their busy schedule to chat with him? I don't know their names, but I knew them through him.
Then there was David, the paper guy I called him. I failed to mention him before. David and Camp worked together at the Times Free Press for many years. They stayed in contact after Camp left the company due to illness. David would stop by on Tuesdays and they'd sit on the front porch stuffing those Wednesday papers in plastic bags together that David delivered to many of your lawns in the city. Others I've already thanked previously in the obituary.
The church family, he loved so much. The spectacular Celebration of Life they put together on his and the family's behalf. Silverdale St. Elmo Pastor Travis Jones. The choir. The people who came.
Camp loved people. He didn't care what hats or titles anyone wore. Or even if they wore hats or titles. He didn't care what anyone's station or status in life was. He was faithful to a fault, and lived his life accordingly. He met people and accepted people for who they were. Whether they slept in the woods at night or lived in fine homes. He once traveled to Africa in the 70s while attenting college with a college classmate and met the classmate's father who was a king. The king presented him with an African sword. We still have the sword in its sheath. The sword was marked "made in Brazil." But what the heck?! It just means Africa and South America crossed paths at some point and communicated with one another.
Camp never forced his beliefs on anyone. He was a loving, kind, genteel and humble soul. And people were drawn to that and came to want to know more. Learn more of his faith and his beliefs. He went about life quietly and gently in everything that he did. If you passed him on the street and didn't know him, you'd likely have just brushed him off, but you'd feel his energy. His spirit. If I'm making him out to be larger than life, it's because to many who knew him he actually was.
The children and I miss him terribly. I ask for patience and understanding. We're grateful to each and every one of you - the love and well wishes you've sent our way. The cards might be delayed, but no matter how long it takes.....they're on the way.
And a very special thanks to Bradley and his brother at Advantage Funeral Home on McCallie Avenue. They made the arrangement process go so smoothly.
Thank you
Brenda Washington and Family