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The Old Pond

Writer's picture: Dallas ReeseDallas Reese

When I was a kid, I'd beg my grandfather to take me on walks down to the Old Pond on his property in Jefferson, SC. Looking at this photo of my grandparents Russell & Nell Demby Johnson standing at its edge in the late winter of 1961 brought back many warm memories, a small relic of a time that still lives in my mind. We had a reverence for the beauty of nature and a spiritual reverence for God's creation. There was peace in the woods and water. Then there was the strange dichotomy of a man and a boy who both liked to talk a LOT. Often we'd sit together on its banks, not exchanging words but in silent solitude. I distinctly remember those moments of unbroken harmony better than if we had spoken. But, of course, those moments never lasted long. By the time we stood up, we were talking a mile a minute. Well, it was mostly him. I listened much more then than now. And it was pure joy for a kid soaking up the words. Oh, to know that we know what we know and do not know what we do not know is true knowledge.

Dallas Reese

December 2022



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