Mom–high scorer in the game that really matters
Tim Wildmon
Tim Wildmon
AFA president

June 1998 – Recently I was on a plane from Memphis to Dallas en route to Phoenix. About midway through the one-hour flight I got into a conversation with the lady next to me. She was in her 40s. I had overheard her say that she was in Tupelo the week before and that piqued my curiosity. Come to find out she was from the county just north of me – Prentiss County. She introduced me to her mom who was sitting by the window. Nice lady, in her 60s. She told me they were from the small (and I’m talking Mississippi small, not New York small) New Site community and that sparked this comment from me.

“Oh, really? My momma went to high school at New Site in the mid ’50s. Played basketball. Once scored 52 points in a game,” I bragged. I love telling this.

“Is that right?” the older lady said. “Well, guess what? My husband, who issitting right behind us here, was the basketball coach during that time. What was your momma’s name?”

“She would have been Lynda Lou Bennett. Parents were Bill and Eloise Bennett from up around Moore’s Mill.”

“Oh yes, I remember that young Bennett girl. She was a fine little player for Jack (Arnold).”

What? I remember thinking, Ma’am, if scoring 52 points in a game doesn’t make you more than a “fine little player,” then I don’t know what does. You need to upgrade your memory here. My momma was an excellent, dominating player who probably made her teammates appears a lot better than they actually were. But, I didn’t say it. It would have embarrassed Momma and she wasn’t even there.

We talked some more and as we were gathering our stuff together to deplane Mrs. Arnold introduced me to her Mr. Arnold.

“Jack you remember that little Bennett girl that played for you back in the ’50s?”

“Well, let’s see. Yeah, I do remember Lynda.”

“Well, this is her son. What did you say you’re name was again?”

“Bond. James Bond.”

“What?”

“Tim Wildmon, Ma’am,” I said as I reached to shake his hand.

“Last I heard, your mom was living in Tupelo.”

“Still is.”

“I remember Lynda was a good player, worked hard, came from a good family. Did everything I asked her to do and more. But I had so many players it’s hard to remember them all.”

We continued for a few more minutes and then we bade adieu. Momma has always done everything life’s asked of her and more. Most mommas have.

On May 10 Americans celebrated Mother’s Day. The day, perhaps above all others, evokes emotion and memories for us, doesn’t it? Perhaps not all positive. But for most folks reading this, you had a momma who tried to do her best. That’s just the nature of moms. God made them that way. Even if your natural mom gave you up for adoption, I’ll bet when she did so she had the best of intentions at heart. As I said, God made mommas with a natural desire to care for their children. That in itself deserves celebration.

“The hand that rocks the cradle, rules the world,” is the old saying.

For me the memories are of hot breakfast on cold winter mornings. Mom believed that if her children didn’t have a good breakfast in their tummies we wouldn’t be able to do as well in school. If we didn’t make good grades, it wouldn’t be because the eggs weren’t scrambled and orange juice wasn’t served.

Mom had four children separated by eight years. Still she would take us to swimming lessons, baseball practice, ballet, Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts, PTO, and whatever church activities we might have. Dad was the pastor and if we didn’t participate it would be a bad example for the rest of the church, was Mom’s way of thinking. Also, she took time to teach her children right from wrong. Burned it into us.

She didn’t believe in harsh words, either. Wouldn’t even let me call someone a “liar.” Instead, she would tell me the person may have been “dishonest,” or perhaps a “story- teller.”

She also cooked great suppers, let us have a dog, tucked us in at night, took us see to Dr. Dale when we got sick, and taught cake decorating lessons at our church at night on a few occasions to buy something a little special now and then.

Mom still makes the best pound cake in the world. And now she loves and cares for her five grandchildren who all live in and around Tupelo.

Like millions of ladies, perhaps your mom, she needs to be honored and shown appreciation often. Not just on the second Sunday in May.

We confront a lot of evil here at AFA. We fight for cleaner, more family-friendly television and other media on a regular basis. But really, the first line of defense in winning back America to the Godly principles which made her great is in the home. We need moms today to take raising their children seriously. And the need has never been greater to burn the difference between right and wrong into our kids.

Yep, you read that right. Fifty-two points in one game. I’m telling the truth. My momma didn’t raise
a story-teller. undefined