Lessons of our ancestors

This is the talk given by Dr. Paul Burns at Decoration on May 7, 1995.

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Nothing in my life gives me a sense of inner peace and a feeling I am not alone in this world like coming to Heflin.

Time after time, God has come down from heaven to Heflin. My dad and my grandmother were ready when God came for them, and He saw their hands open up. God called their names and my dad reached up, and my grandmother reached up, and God wrapped his cloak around them and they just winged their way to heaven – at peace. I am at peace when I come here.

I know my grandmother always wanted me to be at peace with the world and myself.  She wished happiness for me and a life that was fulfilling, as any parent or grandparent wants for their children or grandchildren. When I come here, I hear Mommie Winn say, “Let not your heart be troubled.” At times, it has been troubled, but it is always less troubled when I am here. I especially remember my dad and my grandmother when I am at Heflin. I think about them every day.

I have driven this road to Brownwood to the ranch a thousand times. One of the most vivid childhood memories is of this road in the 1940s. In the summer, it was hot and dusty, all the car windows were rolled down, and the vent in the middle of the hood of the car was kicked wide open. The dust from the dirt road just boiled in the car. The heater helped in the winter. When it was muddy, it was a slow, treacherous drive. When I was young, it was a much longer drive to the ranch and I remember Mother saying, about the time we turned at the Cisco Y, “I wish something would pick us up and put us down at the ranch.” We drove up and down the hills until we turned a corner by Uncle Walt and Aunt Mary Burns’ house. Then we turned once and saw the road to Heflin; turned twice and saw the ranch for the first time. My wife, Toni, has noticed that sometimes I get quiet and have nothing to say at this turn. It is not because I am troubled, but because my mind is thinking a hundred thoughts at once.

I have driven this road all my life, but now I am in middle age and it is different. I would cross Gap Creek and then go past Bob Miller’s house. To this day, I can see the big knot on Uncle Bob’s head and see him hauling water all his life and see Aunt Ollie pulling off a piece of bread dough to cook on stove, take a taste of it to see what ingredients she had forgotten to add, add it, then cook the rest of the bread.

I can see Daddy, Pierce and me on a fall afternoon building fence and listening to the SMU football game on the pickup truck radio. I remember the handle of the post hole digger slipping out of my hand, swinging around and hitting me in the head and knocking me unconscious for a few seconds. Daddy picked me up, carried me to the pickup, and drove across the pasture, then across the field, down the country road and up to the house. I remember hearing Mother and Daddy talking in the other room, and Mother saying, “George, I just don’t think he’s strong enough to do that kind of work.” I remember being puzzled about that for years. I have driven this road for years, now, in middle age, it is different.

These may be my thoughts; each of you have your own as you drive down this road or the road in front of your house. We remember just bits and pieces, quick flashes; but it is a lifetime of memories to each of us. Our memories of what has happened in these houses, fields, and pastures, and along these roads make us who we are.

In middle age, we see time differently, you just do. The young will have to take my word for it. Maybe we see ahead and behind and see the time as more equal and realize that there is more behind us than in front of us. It is a slow realization that now is your time to be an example and to realize that you are influencing others and what you do will be a part of what shapes other lives, for good or bad.

It is strange what shapes our lives, strange what we remember; huge events and tiny memories are etched in our memory.  When I think back over my life, it is amazing how few days stand out. Most days, I do not remember. Everyone remembers the huge, family-altering events, but everyone remembers them slightly differently. Only we remember the tiny events that shape our lives. Often, no one else in the family remembers tiny events that are so vivid to us. You can never predict what others will remember about you, and how you will affect their lives in ways that you can never dream. It is good to be a little careful.

Patients thank me twenty years later for the way I told their father he had cancer, or for talking to an ill child before I had to examine them or coming to the hospital in the middle of the night because I was worried. I now count these among my greatest accomplishments.

What influenced me? What changed my life? Once your parents and grandparents are gone, your chance to thank them is gone also. If it were not that way, what would I say to them now? What do I think about when I think of my father and grandparents? Well, it is so many things. That my father worked on this ranch all his life and I never once heard him say he was tired, or hot or cold. It could be 105 degrees in August with no rain for two months, and he just did what was needed doing at the time. It was every day from sunup to dark, six days a week. He never worked on a Sunday. Mother never allowed that.

I remember Daddy planting a tree in the front yard. I was young, maybe nine or ten, and I said to Mother that it sure would be nice to have some shade in the yard. Mother just quietly said that the tree would not live because it was planted on a Sunday. I remember I was not surprised when the tree died.

I remember Daddy riding his horse every day to find every new calf or lamb the day they were born, to treat them for screw worms before they were infected. He never considered taking the day off or starting late, and I think it actually never crossed his mind to complain. 

Burns family, c. 1950. From left, George Burns, Billy Burns, Paul Burns, Mary Margaret Burns, Ona Burns, Mary Etta “Mommie” Winn. Pierce Burns, not pictured, was likely taking the photo.

Work is not just what you do for a living, but really what you do with your life. The opposite of work is not having fun, or recreation, or play, but idleness. Idleness is the opposite of work, and it accomplishes little. Fun and recreation revitalize us and balances us and, as Mother told me many times, “Be sure to find the time to do something you really enjoy every day, as life is surprisingly short.” When you look at life in the big scale, it is just a mere blip in time but it is amazing how much we can pack into our lifetimes if we really try. How many experiences we can have in a lifetime just amazes me.

Finding happiness in work is so important. I always consider myself fortunate because every day I love what I do. Every day is exciting and challenging and takes total concentration.  Toni once told me she was always amazed that every morning when the alarm went off, no matter what time it was, or how much sleep I had, I was always immediately awake and eager to get going. I had never thought of it and it was not something I tried to do. I must admit I have looked forward to every day of my life. It is up to you to be proud of your work and at the end of the day to be proud of your accomplishments. I think I learned that from my mother and dad, my grandparents, and aunts and uncles and friends here at Heflin. Children learn by example: “your deeds speak so loud that I cannot hear what you are saying.” The most satisfying work accomplishes something you believe is worthy and that you feel you are doing as well as you can. You can kid yourself for a while but if you are unhappy with your work, the problem is generally with you and not the work.

Excelling is not easy. When you get to a certain level of your profession, generally everyone around is just as smart and talented as you are. I have found talking to thousands of patients that success is rarely luck or accident. Success is more likely due to hard work, attention to detail, discipline, sacrifice, and whether or not you learned judgement and character as a child. It helps to have wonderful teachers to teach you and gently guide you in the right direction. I have been tremendously lucky all my life, beginning in Blanket and continuing every step of the way. Blessed with great teachers and a good mind, I was always at the top of my class. Then when I started medical school, everyone was at the top 5 or 10% of the class in the best universities in the nation. So how do you excel when everyone is just as smart and had just as wonderful teachers? There is no real secret to success. Those who accomplish more and do their job better are generally those who worked harder. I have no patience for those who slough off; my parents did not, my wife’s parents did not and those I admire do not.

PERSEVERANCE

At times, we must be nudged in the right direction, gently or not so gently and insignificant events can have profound consequences.

When I was in fourth grade, I did not feel well one morning, and Mother let me stay home from school. A few weeks later, I did not feel well again and told Mother I wanted to stay home from school. She said, “No, Paul, there will be times all the rest of your life when you do not feel well and would like to stay home, but you just have to do things you do not feel like doing.” I went to school, and I remember I did OK. However, it was a lesson I remembered all the rest of my life. She did not remember the incident when I asked her recently, but what I learned was perseverance, self-control, sometimes you just have to hang in there and do something you do not want to do or do not feel like doing. I do not remember missing a day of college, medical school or residency and many days I was dead tired and felt bad.

When Daddy built a fence, every hole was exactly the same depth, exactly in line and tamped just the right amount. He dug every hole by hand and whether in dirt or solid rock the depth was the same; he persevered and hung in there whether it was 105 degrees or 75.

I learned perseverance from my dad.

I learned it also from my grandmother, Mommie Winn, who persevered in her beliefs: kindness, belief in God, family, and unwavering loyalty to the things she believed in.

Goethe wrote:

We must not hope to be mowers,

And to gather the ripe ears of corn, 

Unless we have first been sowers 

And watered the furrows with tears.

It is not just as we take it, 

This mystical world of ours, 

Life’s field will yield as we make it

A harvest of thorns or flowers.

Mommie Winn and my dad knew what Goethe was saying. 

How do you do well in the world, influence your children and grandchildren, nephews and nieces, and people you hardly know? You do it by leading, prodding, and contributing, by persevering yourself, by standing with them and behind them, by being coach and cheerleader. Perseverance is the key to success.

RESPONSIBILITY

I recently attended my Blanket class reunion. There were 12 of us; nine boys and three girls in my class. Two grades in each classroom were taught by one teacher. All at Blanket were poor, the school was poor, the parents had limited resources. I had lost contact with almost all my classmates. That tiny, poor school produced a class of successful adults, educated, at the top of their game and their profession. 

There was no talk of growing up without much money, with limited opportunities, in a tiny school with limited resources. There was no talk of bad luck. We were just amazed at our fortune to have been brought up in a time and place that remains golden in our memories.

Each year at Blanket, we entered a countywide competition. I entered declamation, which was to recite a long poem from memory in front of an audience. I won first at Blanket and went to the County meet. I had never seen so many people and I was scared. The winner from every school in the county was there. Just before the competition started, Mother pulled me aside and said, “Just pick out one person in the audience and make believe you are just talking to that person.” And I did and I won first in the entire county. I still have my ribbon. I was very proud. I still remember a line from the poem Mother chose for me to recite: 

Defend not one defect that shames your eye – 

Just stand aside and watch yourself go by.

Responsibility. My mother chose a poem about responsibility and humility.

One of the most enjoyable memories I have of growing up on the ranch was when the family would “go visiting.” I remember visiting Uncle Charlie and Auntie and, after the meal, the adults would visit for a while. The women were in one room and the men in another. If I were quiet, I could listen to the men talk. If I made any noise or was not still, I had to go outside. It fascinated me. They talked of making a living, cows, sheep, grain, weather, rains, crops, and really, they talked about responsibility. When they talked of something bad that had happened, never once did I hear them say it was someone else’s fault. 

They quietly held themselves accountable for their own actions. 

There is no room here at Heflin for not taking responsibility. It is false, deceitful and people know it. With maturity, we must realize that if it is in your power to change something, then it is your responsibility. Harry Truman knew “the buck stops here.”

One of the ultimate statements of responsibility is the wonderful note written by General Dwight D. Eisenhower to be read in the event that the D-Day invasion of Normandy failed. It read: “Our landings have failed, and I have withdrawn my troops. My decision to attack at this time and this place was based on the best information available. The troops, the air and the navy did all that bravery and devotion to duty could do. If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt, it is mine alone.” That is responsibility. 

We are answerable for the kind of person we become. We are what we choose to make of ourselves.

Aristotle wrote, “We become what we are as persons by the decisions that we ourselves make.”

Daddy told the story of shearing the goats, and when the next night there was a freak hard freeze, all his goats died. He stayed up all night trying to get them to huddle together for warmth. It was financially devastating, but it was not the weather’s fault. He never said it was bad luck. 

On the other side of responsibility is also a story from our family. A great-great uncle told his wife and children that he needed to go to town to get something. He saddled up his horse, swung into the saddle, rode off, and never saw his family again.  He just rode off, left his family on the frontier to fend for themselves and never looked back. 

The parable of the prodigal son always fascinated me and what I took from it was that it was fun to be the son, satisfying to be the other son, but now it is time to be the father or the mother. 

CONCLUSION

The people here at Heflin knew the difference between problems and inconveniences. 

It was not just an inconvenience when Mammie and Papa’s house burned in the early 1940s. My earliest memory is of the house completely burned to the ground with the chimney standing and a couch and a few things in the yard. Everything was gone in a few moments, there was no phone, no help, they were furiously trying to save their own lives and a few treasures. My father told me he saved a few things then started to run into the living room to get one last armful, but just as he stepped into the room, something told him not to go. Just as he stepped back, the burning ceiling collapsed where he had been standing. There was nothing to do but watch it burn. I was only four, but I remember the family standing in absolute silence as the whole house was consumed and destroyed. Papa had a stroke soon after and never recovered. 

The great depression of the 1930s destroyed generations of work. I remember Mother and Daddy telling of the government men who came to the ranch to shoot their cows. Shot them while they watched. It was a problem and not an inconvenience to go off to war. Being blind on the frontier with a family to rear was not just an inconvenience. 

It is sometimes hard to believe I grew up here. I am so fortunate. You are my family and you are my friends. My father and grandmother are buried here at Heflin. They had character.

This above all, to thine own self be true.

And it must follow as the night the day,

Thou canst not then be false to any man.