It’s the Real Thing!

Everyday I hear from authors in emails, lots of them. Being such an avid reader, hearing from authors whose pages I have cherished and admired is such a thrill for me. I recently heard from the author, River Jordan. Now is that a name just perfect for an author or what?
River has written a book called “The Messenger from Magnolia Street.” I had first heard about her book from my friend Bob Summers, who is the southern correspondent for Publishers Weekly. Bob had told me that I had to check out her book and I did. Her book was chosen as a Southern Living Magazine Select Pick for March and she is getting quite the accolades for this book.
Emails were going back and forth on trying to figure out how and when we could get River to my little ole neck of the woods. She first got my attention in her emails when she told me at five years old her first love was Elvis Presley. She too just like me used to dance to his records.
She told me she had been reading my Pulpwood Queen Blogs and had been thinking that it would be really cool to do again today like they did with the song “I’d like to teach the world to sing…,” only use really famous people. Hey, maybe we could do that with really famous authors, I was thinking only change the word “real” to “read.”
I told her that the Coke songs had a special significance to me. When I was in junior high the Coke commercial “It’s the real thing” was playing on the television when my next door neighbor minister’s daughter came running over to our house out of breath as a child and told us, “John May has been killed in a car accident.”
I remember it was as if the world had stopped.
John lived three doors down on our block with his parents, The Mays and his brother, Tony who was my age. Mr. May was superintendent of the school and never had there ever been a more classic example of an all American family. The boys excelled at everything, sports, music, academics. Both the Mays sons were popular with the boys and the girls.
Everybody loved those boys and we all really looked up to John, being the eldest. I cannot even imagine the devastation that took its toll on that family and to my classmate Tony. I do know that John being killed shook up every family in my hometown of Eureka, Kansas. This was a boy that could have been their son, their brother, he was our hometown boy done good. John May was the American dream come true.
John was a senior at Eureka High School and Homecoming King that past fall. He and his friends sang at church, they had a band that made them really groovy. He dated a girl, Tammy McClintock, who was the epitome of what I wanted to be; popular, had a Marlo Thomas flip, a perfect figure, and was Head cheerleader. I used to live next door to Tammy McClintock whose mother was a hairdresser.
She always had the best hair. We idolized John and my family sat in shock and silence as we listened to “in the back of your mind, what you’re hoping to find.” “It’s the real thing,” playing on our old Curtis Mathis television.
I was telling River about that Coke song and John. She told me I ought to write about it. I told her I thought I would.
So this is for you John.
To John May,
You will never be forgotten. You were our hero, our knight in shining armor. I thought all boys should be like you. I can remember you and Neil Leigh playing basketball with my daddy out in the backyard. I was just a gangly, lovesick teenager and watching you jump into the air and sink those baskets was about the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. When Diana Schwartz had her 9th grade birthday party at the old Midwest Insitute basement, your band played. I believe her brother was in the band. I can still picture you singing. I thought you were Eureka’s answer to John Lennon only much better looking - and he was pretty hot.
I will never forget that all you boys wore those Nehru shirts probably made by your moms in that red, white, and blue material with all the stars and your blue jeans. I remember you wore loafers with no socks. I though you guys were about the coolest things I had ever seen. My sisters loved Donny Osmond at the time but I loved your band. I cannot remember what your band was called but I can remember dancing to your songs that you played that night. We were having the time of our lives.
When I would see you drive down the highway with Tammy sitting by your side, was it a Mustang? Or driving around with your friends, I thought that is how I want to be when I grow up. You were our shining star, our star athlete. Then you were gone, killed tragically right before your high school graduation. Weren’t you validectorian?
I know this sounds weird but I cannot hear a Coke commercial or drink a Coke without thinking of you. You were just like the Coke ads use to say, you were the real thing. John you were “it” to me. I was just the neighbor kid who admired you in the shadows. I have just popped the cap on a “real” Coke in a real glass bottle and I tip my bottle to you. God Bless you John. Though you were here for such a short time, you will always be remembered.
Your friend and neighbor, Kathy Murphy Patrick