RICH: The Glorious Gordon Hamrick

Published 9:00 am Sunday, June 30, 2024

Gordon Hamrick was one of the finest men I ever knew. I thought of him recently when I ran across the last card he sent me. I shall cherish it, always.

I met Gordon when I was two books into the 10 I have written. That year, I was hired by a South Carolina Rotary District to speak at their annual conference. It was one of the first times that I was paid to speak. I was trying to make a living by writing so I wouldn’t have to go back to the real world of work.

Many mornings, I would awake and lie in bed, calculating how many months’ worth of money I had. The Lord always provided — just like Mama and Daddy had promised — but sometimes, it was at the last minute. When the South Carolina Rotary contacted me, they offered $500 plus expenses. I jumped at the chance.

That was over 20 years ago and I still have that $500. I’m kinda like country singer Tammy Wynette. The story goes that she had grown up, forced to pick cotton. Before machinery took over, it was a terribly hard job. Mama picked cotton as a girl and would talk about how it pricked her fingers and toughen her hands. Tammy supposedly kept a jar of cotton where she could always see it so it would keep her working hard on the road. She didn’t want to go back to the cotton fields.

Though I enjoyed my days in the newsroom and on the stock car racing circuit, I had grown to like working for myself and making my own hours. It’s difficult to earn a living as a writer. Since I didn’t know what lay ahead, I came home, cashed that $500 check, and tucked five $100 bills in an envelope and wrote on it: SC Rotary. I put it away to use for a mortgage payment if I ever needed it. Thank the Lord, I’ve never had to use it.

Another good thing came from that Rotary event — Gordon Hamrick. That night, the crowd gave me a standing ovation, then stood in line to buy my two books. Gordon came over and introduced himself.

“That’s about the finest talk I ever heard. Would you be interested in coming to speak to my club in Shelby, North Carolina.”

In those days, I went anywhere I was invited. I will always be grateful to Rotary Clubs that invited me and the members who bought armloads of books. On two occasions, I spoke to Rotary Clubs with just 16 members present and sold two or three boxes of books.

Gordon was charming. He was around 5-feet-7, wore glasses, and had brown hair that was just beginning to gray. He was always neat as a pin, dressed mostly in tweed sports jackets and neatly pressed pants. He was single. Now, it falls from my memory as to whether he was divorced or widowed. I think it was the latter.

The Shelby Rotary at the local country club was a great success. Afterward, Gordon wanted me to see his hundred year-old farmhouse on his nice, big plot of farmland. The two-story house, with small columns and a balcony, was truly lovely. It smelled old and very loved. Proudly, he showed me the craftsmanship of the house and awards he had won.

We stayed in regular touch. Gordon didn’t email but he phoned. And, often, he sent a note. I went back to Shelby two or three times and, once, when I spoke in the theater, I took Mama. She, too, quickly became a Gordon fan.

On our kitchen table, I keep the last card he sent me. “My Dear Friend,” it begins. “This will be the last time you hear from me. I am on hospice with only a short time.”

There was more but I can never get past the first two lines.

Ronda Rich is the best-sell author of “St. Simons Island: A Stella Bankwell Mystery.” Visit www.rondarich.com to sign up for her weekly newsletter.