The Passing of A Beloved Athens Original

 Athens lost an original this past Sunday with the passing of Sarah Carlton Proctor. She died in the Athens home where she had lived for 63 years. She was 98 and had counted on making it to 100.

 There’s a lot I don’t know about Sarah Carlton’s life.  But I just want to tell you a few things about my friend, for that was what she was to me and to countless others.

  I met Sarah Carlton at a church function at First Presbyterian Church, long after her three daughters were grown and her first husband dead. She was a faithful attendee of Sunday services and the many educational classes held there. With a colorful scarf worn as a hat band, she was easy to spot. I don’t recall any specific occasion when we met but only know that I came to know her. 

When she fell in love with and was planning to marry Jack Proctor, I  began to realize what a vivacious woman she was. Pat and Eunice Tritt, mutual friends, lived across the street from Sarah Carlton. Sarah Carlton asked Eunice to take her shopping in anticipation of the wedding.  After she found some new lingerie that suited her, Sarah Carlton announced that she needed a new nightgown and negligee.  She tried on several but none suited her. Eunice asked her what she was really looking for. She said, “Something that covers me up.  At my age that is more sexy.” 

Sarah Carlton herself told Jane and me that at her wedding reception, she wanted us to get people to sing and dance. We did, and there was plenty of dancing and singing along with eating and drinking. To borrow a phrase from Waking Ned Divine, it was a “mighty party.”

 Some years later, after the couple moved back to Athens, I visited Sarah Carlton and asked her how she and Jack had met. On a UGA alumni tour to Russia, she said. She and Jack were seated next to each other on the long flight.  “It didn’t take long,” she said. When Jack offered her his coat as they were walking up the steps of the Kremlin on an unseasonably cold day during the tour, she realized she was love-struck. So was Jack.

They became engaged on the trip and were married soon after they had returned to the United States. I later learned that Sarah Carlton had said, “At my age, why wait!”

 In 1996, I became a mentor in the Education for Ministry program of the Episcopal Church.  The program offers four years of training in Old and New Testament, church history and modern theology.  Much to my surprise, Sarah Carlton joined my EFM Group.

During the next four years of the program, we grew quite close.  She was a good student and an active contributor to class discussions.  Everyone in our group came to prize Sarah Carlton’s shrewd observations on the materials and wise comments on life in general. She was always studying and learning, earning degrees and taking classes at the university well into her 90s.

Her most quoted remark among the class members was about John Calvin.  I had made some remark about his importance to the Reformation when she declared, “You know, I never believed a word that man wrote.”  She would later explain that his negative view of human nature had put her off, and she just couldn’t pay him much mind if he was so wrong about that. She had a quick mind, and a thirst for knowing and understanding the way the world worked.

 Another aspect of her charm was her sense of humor. On a trip to New Ebenezer in Rincon, Georgia, one fall, there were seven of us—some young, some old. We were going to visit the oldest, continuously meeting church in Georgia.  The Saltzburgers had built it with Georgia red clay bricks in the 1730s, I think

Jane and I had earlier discovered a good seafood restaurant in Rincon housed in what had been a small church. We stopped there going home to Athens and had a wonderful meal.  I advised everyone to use the restroom before getting back in the van, as I hoped we wouldn’t need to stop again.  As we clambered back into the van, we realized Sarah Carlton was not among us.  We waited for a time and then sent Mikelle Kinnard to check on her. 

When Mikelle came out of the restaurant, she was laughing uncontrollably. Sarah Carlton had been locked in the men’s bathroom. The lock was jammed. The staff was hammering the pins out of the door hinges to get her out. 

She finally returned to the van smiling broadly. In recounting what had happened, she told all of us, “If they hadn’t freed me when they did, I was going to do what I did years ago at the Y Camp.  When no one responded to my shouts that I couldn’t open the bathroom door, I just climbed up on the back of the commode and went out the window!” 

The thought of a 80-something woman climbing up on the commode and out a restaurant window of the restaurant made us all laugh. We knew, too, that she was perfectly serious about attempting such an exit. 

 Several years ago, Jane was on her way to an Indian buffet restaurant on Broad Street when she ran into Sarah Carlton shopping downtown. When Jane mentioned where she was headed, Sarah Carlton said, “I’ve never tried Indian food.”  Jane asked if she would like to join her and she did.  As usual, Sarah Carlton piled up her plate with samples of most everything but ate it slowly.

Jane said to her, “You know, my parents would never have tried Indian food.”

 “Well,” Sarah Carlton replied, “I just don’t want to miss out on anything.”

 In her 98 years, I don’t believe that Sarah Carlton missed out on much.  But her many friends would have missed out on a great deal had we never known her. Thank you, Sarah Carlton, for delighting us all.

A celebration of the llife of Sarah Carlton Pearson Proctor will be held this afternoon at 2 at First Presbyterian Church.