Part 21 (1/2)

One of our favorite memories is of the day when Carrie told Ted she wanted to write a screenplay in which he would play a part. He said, ”I'd be happy to play your dad or your uncle.” Carrie's response was, ”Oh no! I want you to be my boyfriend.” Ted loved that.

My memories of her are her big smile, her hugs, and her high-heeled boots. Also, you never knew what color her hair was going to be from day to day ... even purple! She was so down-to-earth and just ordinary folk. She loved animals as much as we do. We took care of her critters many times.

After she got so sick, we had been keeping in contact with her sister Jody and knew the end was getting near. When we learned of her pa.s.sing, it was so sad, but we were glad to know she wasn't suffering anymore.

Something strange happened. Carrie had given us a present of an answering machine and it went dead at the same time she pa.s.sed away. Maybe it was a message from her, but the thing is, we still have the machine and it's working fine. She was so special to us.

We buried the containers in the ground, and Carrie's friends and neighbors covered them with flowers. Birds-of-paradise.

Brian and I drove back down the hill and decided to have one last look at Carrie's beloved cabin. We had paid her a visit in her Gunnison digs a couple of years before. We had driven over from where we were vacationing in Telluride one morning, stopping on the way at an antique store, where I spotted an old Tiffany-style lamp that would appeal to Carrie's sense of decor. As we drove up the driveway to her home that first time, I was surprised at the vastness of her property, forty acres surrounded by majestic mountains. She and Pee Wee ran down the driveway to greet us. The two-story cabin was a little gem. The downstairs housed the living room, kitchen, and a dining room table. It was all open, with no walls dividing the s.p.a.ce. The upstairs (which she had built with the help of neighbors) was entirely devoted to the bedroom and bath. The s.h.i.+ngled roof had been hand-painted by Carrie-every single s.h.i.+ngle! Outside on the porch was her rocking chair.

Visiting Carrie at her cabin in Colorado with Great Dane Pee Wee in the background, 2000

I collected two things from the cabin to bring home: the Tiffany lamp, which she had loved, and one of her hand-painted s.h.i.+ngles. Brian had once again collected the rain in a water bottle, which he later transferred to another sealed perfume bottle.

Presenting Carrie with the antique lamp

In June 2002, my sister, Chris, my nephew Max, and I flew to Little Rock, Arkansas, and drove through Russellville, arriving in Belleville two hours later. I had spoken to the mayor (Mayor Kenny) a few times by phone before and had arranged the date for our visit, so we were expected. Special arrangements had been made for us to rent a small house near a golf course just outside of town for our three-day visit, but unfortunately, Brian, Jody, and Erin weren't able to make the trip at that time.

After we unloaded our suitcases we hopped into the car and headed for Belleville, just a few short miles ahead. As we drove into town I was surprised and touched to see a sign reading, WELCOME CAROL BURNETT AND FAMILY. Otherwise, it was exactly the way Carrie had described it. One main street, one cafe (the Memory Lane), one post office, one main store, one gas station, one fire station, one courthouse, and Ruth's Beauty Parlor.

Mayor Kenny and his lovely wife, Mary, took us to the Memory Lane Cafe for dinner. The place was packed, and we were greeted by the locals with open arms. The dinner was down-home delicious.

The next day we met the same old geezers Carrie had met when she first hit town that Sat.u.r.day afternoon (was it really only a little over a year and a half ago?). There they were, big as life, hanging out at the same old gas station. Mayor Kenny introduced me and they all said they remembered Carrie's visit. Amazing. It might have been Mr. Turnbull (the one who first recognized who Carrie was) who said to me, ”Yep, that was some fine young lady. Never forget her. That smile of hers was wide as a barnyard door.”

A smile as wide as a barnyard door

Logan White, the gravedigger, was equally enthusiastic about having taken Carrie to F.C.'s gravesite. ”She was excited as all get-out over seeing where her ancestors had been laid to rest. She said that someday she'd like to come back and meet the whole town. Even said she'd get her hair fixed at Ruth's!”

We were taken over to F.C.'s house, where Nanny had been born. We were told that it had once been the finest house for miles around in these parts. It still looked pretty fine, with its new brick facade. The next day Mayor Kenny, who tooled around town on his motorcycle, handed me a helmet and I climbed up behind him and held on for dear life as we headed out to the cemetery. My sister and nephew followed us in the car. I had Carrie's ashes with me.

We reached Jones Hill, and found F.C. Jones's headstone. And now here I was, standing where Carrie had stood eighteen months ago. I took her ashes out of the container and scattered them over F.C.'s gravesite, then placed a bird-of-paradise on top, and as I was doing that, I heard Carrie's voice say to me, ”Mama, I'd really like to go back to Belleville one day... .”

After Carrie died, I received many kind letters of condolence. Some of her friends wrote about their memories of times spent with her.

Dear Ms. Burnett,

My name is Kevan and I loved Carrie so very much. I thought I'd send you one of my favorite memories of her.

Carrie was such a wonderful friend to have and a wonderfully fun person to be around. I was forever asking to borrow clothes, shoes, or jewelry from her, she always obliged and fondly referred to me as the most voracious ”prop queen” she had ever known! It wasn't long before the various parties we would attend or hold became unofficial compet.i.tions for us to upstage each other, either in outfits or behavior. It was always with much fun and love. I have to say Carrie outshone me every single time!

I remember a party I held at my house where Carrie turned up in the most outrageous Marie Antoinette costume complete with powdered wig and two footmen (!) by her side just to help her get her incredible dress through my front door. ”We're here, dahling,” she announced, and promptly gave me the most elegant curtsey one could ever receive.

The next day I called Carrie and said, ”Once again girl, you upstaged me on every level.”