This Side of the Mountain . . .: A Tribute to Richard Lawson

This Side of the Mountain . . . The master on a pipe has blown/ a tune become this lustrous glass. February 28, 1975 - September 22, 1990 6 A Tribute to Richard Everyone who encountered Richard Lawson noticed his sunny disposition. He was always happy, always smiling, and he not only greeted but also treated everyone— young and old—like an old friend. Richard's was not an inappropriate kind of optimism; his positive outlook came from his ability to see past the obstacles that got in the way of others. He was that way about other barriers as well. Around him were cliques and groups and social classes. To some it seemed that they meant everything. But to Richard they meant nothing. Richard was everyone's friend and everyone liked him. There was one thing solid in Richard's life. He knew he was always welcome at his grandmother 's house, no matter what. He stayed there, even lived there, from time to time. When Richard was wise or mature, lots of people couldn't help but connect that wisdom and maturity to the influence of his grandmother. She, too, had lived on the rough side of life, but she had seen life's rainbows and lived for them. She also took—and gave—the best that could be gleaned from life's struggle. Last Friday, Richard Lawson was killed in a car accident near Berea, Kentucky, where he had lived most of his life. Walking in a field that evening after I heard the sad news, I saw lightning bugs, too cold and by George Brosi damp to fly, lying on the ground. They could not fly, but their lights were still shining. That is how I am going to remember Richard Lawson. I wish, so much, he could still fly. But what is important is that his light is still shining. Those who read Appalachian Heritage and find meaning in it will want to know that Richard Lawson's grandmother is Sidney Saylor Fair, our editor. Richard was living with her when he was killed, September 22, 1990, at the tender age of fifteen. OO Glass Blower Beside the roaring ovens the blower twirls the iron pipe with its glob of liquid glass blows life into the mass that takes shape in the mold and press. Snip, the shape is cut, goblet formed intact, ready after refiner's fire for cooling water, then mixed with gold and lead to become a cranberry hue or cobalt, dark blue, ebon black or by other chemistry, emerald green. The master on a pipe has blown a tune become this lustrous glass. —David F. Moore 7 ...