Peg Russell
I’m at the point in my life where I take a deep breath before I read the obituaries. Seeing the one for Margaret Jones “Peg” Russell of Murphy last week took my next breath away; she was 83, but seemingly had so much more still left to give.
I was fortunate to meet and chat with Peg several times over the years, and she was always a fun conversation. Most of our discourse came via that old-fashioned communications device known as email; however, unlike some others who contact the local newspaper, she went out of her way to find something positive to share.
My favorite notes from Peg were ones she clearly marked NOT FOR PUBLICATION, as she obviously meant for it to be personal between us. Most of those remarks will remain right where she left them; however, I think she would be OK with me sharing a few of her thoughts now. At least I don’t have to worry about her catching one of my dangling participles.
The last thing Peg sent me was on Aug. 3, when she was particularly enamored with Assistant Editor Penny Ray’s article about a local jury trial.
“Trying to pinpoint about why I think this reporting is an example of world-class journalism at its best may be an example of why the best writers and novelists – Twain, Dickens, Hemingway – began as journalists,” she wrote. “Why was objective reporting not dull? First, like excellent journalism, it was objective. No taking sides.”
That’s some high praise right there, and I edited out the more detailed points.
Occasionally, Peg would also share a story from her teaching past. Her tales, like this one, usually ended with me laughing out loud.
“When Andy referred angrily in class to his lovely eighth-grade English teacher (myself) and I was writing a referral, I didn’t know how that word he used was spelled – E or U? So I sent him on a library pass to look the word up in the Random House Unabridged Dictionary … I call it the dirty word dictionary,” she wrote.
“The first two you look up aren’t there, but, whoa, all the rest, even in Latin. Well, that darned Andy told everyone he passed in the halls, and everyone in the library, how he had a wonderful time bringing back the correct spelling for his referral. So now Andy and I, and many other students, know turd is spelled with a U.”
Some of her short notes were always fun to behold, like this from July 6. “Note that in 1942 in the Scout, front-page news included a 6-pound turnip. Good times.”
On July 13, Peg had already read the e-edition of the next day’s newspaper and sent me this comment, which I still treasure.
“ ‘The Heart of the Watermelon’ is one title to be proud of,” she wrote. “David, I hope you are as proud a journalist as I am about this issue of the Scout.”
As much as she liked that edition, the one from Nov. 3, 2020, “is the absolutely most perfect Cherokee Scout issue of all,” she wrote. “After all the intense, passionate, energetic letters, and events and decisions … really, everything to be said has been said.
“The wonderful drunken duck story, even more wonderful with your comments bringing it up to date as in Parson’s Pub, and horribly wonderful exclamation point comment (after all, you are an editor) added to the goodness. And then the Wally election time in Murphy article telling casually how it used to be here. … It is my favorite article I’ve ever read of his.
“And, yes, the way the newspaper respects and prints what the local ministerial society or whatever sends each week – one about Jesus and love, and the other from a goofy guy. Anyway, from my hunkering down old lady study, GOOD JOB, Terrific edition in a strange and wonderful time.”
Then she would sign off with her familiar, “Just sayin’.” Well, I’m just sayin’ I’m really going to miss her.
I’ll never forget her kind words. More importantly, I will never forget her kind soul. Rest in peace, Peg, you made a positive difference while you were with us.