Pop Goes The World
It’s hard to believe it’s been 20 years since Carl Blackwell left this world.
Carl worked at a number of places during his lifetime, but he was probably best known as the manager of the local Schewel Furniture Company. When I first met his daughter, Stephanie, at Fine Arts camp 40some years ago, he was working at the Schewel’s in downtown Lexington next to the Woody building (now the Rockbridge Regional Library.) In the afternoons after camp was over for the day, Stephanie and I would watch soap operas on the TVs on the second floor of the store.
In the mid-1980s, I was overjoyed when Stephanie and her family moved to Taylor Street in the home once occupied by longtime Lexington educator Miss Willis Loyall and her family. I was over at her house so much, I began to think of Carl and his wife Dorothy as a second set of parents and they treated me like one of their own. There was a lot of joy in that home.
I can remember many nights when the phone at the Blackwells’ house would ring and there would be a customer on the line, often inquiring about a delivery that had not been made that day. People knew they could call Carl at home because he was dedicated to providing the best possible service to his customers.
Back then the Blackwells had a dog named Luke, an astonishingly smart tri-color Sheltie with a taste for table scraps. One day Carl went into the kitchen to fix himself a snack. A few minutes later Luke, who had been lounging in the den, went missing. Dorothy was afraid he had sneaked outside. “Carl, is Luke in the kitchen with you?” she asked. “I’m eating, aren’t I?” was Carl’s reply.
Luke was the first of many Shelties in the Blackwell home. When Luke passed away, Chester and Shiloh came into their lives. They were just puppies when they first became part of the household. Carl and Dorothy often referred to them as “the babies.” This probably confused a lot of eavesdroppers one year when Carl and Dorothy were discussing buying dog beds at an outlet store and worried aloud that “the babies” might eat their beds.
Carl loved the Fourth of July. Setting off fireworks really brought out the kid in him. When the fireworks ran out after an evening of lighting the fuses of ear-splitting Whistlin’ Dixies and rockets promising showers of Chinese blossoms, Stephanie and I would ask, “Can we go back out to the fireworks place on Route 11?” There was only a yes answer to that question. Before we knew it, we were in the Volvo bound for the fireworks place and staring at the giant mummified rattlesnake mounted to the wall while waiting for our pyrotechnic purchases to be tallied for the second or third time that day.
One July Fourth it was a little chilly and Stephanie put on her father’s jacket from Vietnam. Carl served one tour there.
Becoming a grandfather was something I think Carl had been preparing to be all his life. He adored his ginger-haired grandchildren, Mark and Elizabeth. When Mark began exhibiting a penchant for sports, he attended as many of his games as he could. From the time Elizabeth stepped into ballet slippers, he was present at her dance performances.
In the mid 2000s Carl was diagnosed with lung cancer. In late 2004, Carl retired from Schewel’s to spend more time with his family. Unfortunately, that time was short. He died June 2, 2005, at Stonewall Jackson Hospital with Dorothy and Stephanie by his side. He was 59.
On the day of his funeral, A.M. “Bucky” Miller of the Lexington Police Department was directing traffic. As the hearse carrying Carl’s casket passed, Bucky stood at attention and saluted.
