I’ve been in, out, and around the newspaper business for more than 25 years. But, even before I graduated from the University of Southern Mississippi’s journalism program, I was an avid newspaper reader, and my newspaper reading habits were shaped by my grandmother and mother. They always read the obituaries first. My mom was also the person in the car that we could count on saying, “I wonder who’s at the funeral home” when we drove by Newton County Funeral Home (then Webb Funeral Home) and there were cars in the parking lot.
Naturally, I picked up their interest and always enjoy reading the obit page. While an obituary will never be the final say so on anyone’s life, it probably will be the final commentary about how a person lived and what they meant to the living. In my journalism career, I’ve edited many obits that I wondered how much truth there was in the writing.
Last week the obituary for Mrs. Ann Burkes came into the office, and I teared up on one line because it was the truest thing I have ever read in an obituary. The obituary read, “Though she had no children, mothers can come in various forms. She was practically a mother to every East Central student that walked into the library’s doors seeking help.”
No truer words have been written in an obituary. I humbly consider myself one of Ann Burkes’ many children. I didn’t even go in seeking help. She just helped me anyway. I teared up a little when Robbie was getting the obit on the page, and I was trying to explain to him who she was to me and so many other students at EC. His response was, “There’s your column. Tell it.” So here I am trying to explain what Ann Burkes did for me — a less than confident, first-generation college student.
My first meeting with Mrs. Burkes (that’s all I will ever call her) was during the summer of 1984. I had just graduated from high school, and my aunt Lee Ann Scoggin, who worked at EC, helped me get a summer job taking inventory of the campus. Three other girls and I were tasked with transferring all the library book inventory from bound paper volumes to computer files. We were working for Mrs. Burkes. At that time, I was so nervous that all I can really remember is she told me she knew my mother and that my mother was really smart. That’s all I remember, but it meant something to me because I was terrified of stepping onto a college campus and being swallowed up in anonymity. Somehow that day, with just a few minutes of conversation, she made me believe I belonged on that campus. She made me feel welcome and special because she knew my mama. For the next two years, Mrs. Burkes would be a constant in my life.
I spent many days in the library during my two years at EC. Sometimes, I was just waiting for my ride to get out of class. Some days, I was actually getting work done before heading to the band hall. Every time I walked through those glass doors, though, I would see Mrs. Burkes. She always waved, and some days she came over to talk about what I was doing on campus. She dried a few tears and celebrated my A’s. She talked me into taking her library science class. As I recall, I took 21 hours that semester, but hers was a class that I looked forward to meeting. She was so passionate about libraries and their roles in education and culture. My love of books and free libraries intensified just being in that class with her.
Near the end of my sophomore year, Mrs. Burkes raised the question of where I wanted to attend college after EC. I told her that I was probably going to USM. These were the days before campus visits and tours became a foregone conclusion. Campus tours were rare. As far as I knew then, you just picked the school based on your parents experience or where your friends were going. My parents hadn’t attended college. They were pretty sure that part of my education was to go to USM and figure it out when I got there.
I knew Mrs. Burkes was an alumna, so I asked her if she thought it would be right for me. Before I knew it, she had made a few phone calls and signed up my friend Annette Hurley and me for a campus tour. She didn’t stop with a phone call, though. She took Annette and me to campus in her personal vehicle and spent the entire day introducing us to people and showing us around campus. Annette and I went to USM that summer as roommates. At the time, I’m not sure I saw the full effect of that day. Looking back, I know it was truly momentous. Mrs. Burkes invested in us. She saw my potential. She believed in me. I owe part of my education to her. There will never be another Ann Burkes, but I pray every student finds their Mrs. Burkes.
