The Road That Brought Us Where We Are

Maxine Menefee and husband. Bob, October 1987 November 21, 1918 - November 7, 1987 16 The Road That Brought Us Where We Are by Sidney Saylor Farr Meanwhile, let us go forward on the road that has brought us to where we are. Philippians 3:16 In publishing a magazine of this size there are always people working behind the scenes who never get their names on the masthead, or have any special mention at all. As far as the reader is concerned they are invisible; thus very few ofyou knew ofthe existence ofone ofour most valuable helpers. From January 1, 1985 until November 1987, Maxine Menefee was the unofficial proofreader. She loved the magazine and everything to do with getting it ready for publication. She knew the rules of grammar thoroughly, had a vast storehouse ofliteraryknowledge, was agoodcritic, andlovedtodiscussthefinepoints ofwriting, editing, andillustrating—all ofwhich washelpfulto me. Wewereabletogiveheronlyasmall stipend for each issue, and it was not enough to compensate for the hours she worked. Maxine always seemed so happy when she, Donna, and I were working on an issue. She said to me several times that it was such a satisfaction personally to be in on the work from the beginning right through getting the completed issue back from the bindery. She was very enthusiastic about the contents of our last fall issue with the color photograph of the ducks on the pond...she never got to see the finished product. Maxine suffered a massive stroke on November 3 and died four days later. She would have celebrated her sixty-ninth birthday on November 21 and her forty-third wedding anniversary on November26. A Berea College graduate, wife ofa Berea faculty member, generous friend and neighbor, Maxine is mourned by a wide spectrum ofpeople. Because of the variety of her volunteer efforts, her activities in her church, civic clubs, and organizations, she was known and loved by many people. With Maxine's passing we have lost a warm, engaging personality, a thoughtful and generous friend, an eastern Kentucky mountain woman who lovedand understood her people even though she had lived in Berea and other parts of the country and world for many years. Her hearty, infectious laugh rang out often, making her a joy to be with. We miss her. We mourn her leaving so suddenly the things and people she loved. We who are leftbehind certainly mustcontinue to draw strength from her fine example ofservice to others. These lines from Edna SL Vincent Millay's "Dirge Without Music" (1928) express what we feel about her going: Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind; Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave. I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned. 17 ...