making the case JEFF KIRBY
In the beginning, she had all she needed — a life of her own, a place to call home ... and a car.
It wasn’t much of a car, really — a ’49 Chevy, with some rust and well-worn tires. But it was all hers. It gave her independence and a chance to chase her dreams. That car took her from the farm country in Preble County all the way to the big city of Dayton.
She had it made. The car took her everywhere.
And then one day, when she least expected it, it took her to her future.
That’s when a guy entered the picture, as is the case in all good stories. The guy wasn’t just any average guy, but he was a poor guy from Franklin, someone who was long on ambition but short on the means to get there. He had no money, no job and no way to get either one.
He needed ... a car.
Cupid has a sense of humor. Sure, there was personal chemistry and a loving respect, but the joke many years later was that she had one quality that stood above the rest — and it wasn’t her beauty or independence.
It was the car.
In short order, her car became their car. And her life became their life. And, before long, they were on the road to something big.
They traveled far from their humble beginnings. They found the highway to good jobs, nicer clothes, and great vacations. There was the week in Rio, two near Madrid. He was an up-and-coming trial lawyer, and she was the woman who made him successful. One day, long after the Chevy was gone, she was able to drive a new car off the showroom floor.
They moved up in other ways, too. After a series of small, rented houses, one with no lock on the front door, they later owned a six-bedroom home that was considered among the finest in town. It held not one, but two cars.
But the money wasn’t all they had. They had their health, their standing in the community, and their five kids, who somehow managed to co-exist without killing one another. In that regard, they had a life full of miracles.
Integrity was taught and modeled every day. So were traits like honesty, charity and courtesy. As time moved on, the family’s influence began to grow.
Today, a judge affects many lives, a teacher motivates many others. A flight attendant sees the world in a mission of service, and a comedian helps the world laugh. The oldest child? Well, he writes these little columns in his spare time, always in search of life’s ultimate highway.
If this family stands for anything, it’s that achievement can come in the face of all adversity. It’s not the style of the car that matters, but the power of the engine in it.
Now the grandchildren make a difference, too, affecting the world in their own wonderful way. Chloe could be another judge, Sara another teacher. Chase is destined for stardom, and Adam’s headed for the bright lights of California. Won’t it be funny if one day Connor is a professor at Ohio State (he loves Michigan), Kevin the father of a nonathlete (because he’s quite the athlete), and Sophie the mother of a princess (because she doesn’t have the time for such frilly things)?
And, for sure, when God created Alison McKenzie Stewart, he declared her a masterpiece and called it a day.
It’s neat to see how things turn out. On that day more than 50 years ago, when she flashed through town in her car, could she have ever envisioned the way things would be?
She’d be the first to tell you she could not. She still has a life of her own, though cancer took her husband a couple of years ago. She still has a place to call home ... and she indeed still has a car. Only now it’s a new car.
You may know her as Pat Kirby, a good citizen, a wonderful person, a trusted friend. And you would be correct.
But I know her simply as “Mom.” And she’s been the best mom anyone could ask for.
What a ride.
Jeff Kirby is a lawyer and writer who lives in Springboro. He can be reachedat jeffkirby1@aol.com.