We Knew Him as Bobby Stevenson
In my time of working under his guidance and becoming one of his sons, I never heard anyone refer to him as Bobby. It was always Bobby Stevenson. That in fact means something now that I have prepared my wandering mind to think nothing but of Bobby Stevenson today.
When one's name is said in the fullness of down-home southern vernacular, it is a true testament of the love the individual gave and in turn garnered. It regulates one to a status of honor.
Bobby Stevenson was more than special in life. Therefore in my humble opinion and I am certain in others, he has become in death a Legend. He was a giant for the city of Thomasville, North Carolina. Small in stature but big in memory!
Do you remember Wagner's Supermarket? Do you remember going not only every day, but every other hour in a day? I do! Usually, I was TOLD to go by Bobby Stevenson's friend, Frankie Payne. He had many friends, by the way! Grandma Frankie was forever sending Black Boy (me) to Wagner's for Goody's Powder. "This arthritis is painful!" She would yell. So, I had to help grandma with her discomfort.
It was not an issue for me to be her errand boy because I enjoyed going to Bobby Stevenson's. It was a short walk. From 312 Small Street to the street Smoky Cochran lived on (Davidson Street). Then to Jacob Street (now Martin Luther King, Jr. Drive) to the avenue that will take you to the best BBQ in the world, Lexington, North Carolina - and if you go in the direction opposite of Lexington on Lexington Avenue you will eventually run into National Highway where the second best BBQ is made in the world, Tommie's Barbeque. By the time I got to the cash register, Bobby Stevenson would have the Goody's in hand. I would greet him and Richard Skeen, The Dad of the Thomasville's favorite Mom and Pop; and then I would take off running and skipping after I tried to convince Mr. Skeen that I was ready for employment by bagging a few groceries for Bobby Stevenson's favorite neighbor, Mrs. Gladys.
I never paid for the Goody's Powder or the other goods I was instructed to pick up thanks to Bobby Stevenson's generous credit line that was issued to almost everyone in the city. As long as the 3rd of the month came Bobby Stevenson would get his money from grandma because her social security check would be cashed at Wagner's Supermarket. "Frankie, you paying your bill today?" He would ask. And, Grandma Frankie would respond, "Yes- darn it! Don't I always pay my bill? And, add these orange slices to next month's bill." They sparred all the time. Even on God's day, Sunday.
There was no way really to get around settling-up your tab. Bobby Stevenson would talk about you to everybody if you tried. For everyone in the store to hear he would ask every customer in that deep voice, "Have you seen _________ he has a bill here and it is Friday. Didn't TFI get paid today?"
So getting the cash for his produce and beer was never too much of an issue. Speaking of cash…Bobby Stevenson has given his share away. He was the Bill Gates of Bulldog Country. The first step in his charity was to employ you. From that point, you worked and he gave: advice, comedy, stories, and ultimately financial assistance if you or your family needed it.
Inconsequently, the charity was not in the money. It was in just being in his presence. I will never forget how he consumed the entire store. In all ways, Bobby Stevenson was Wagner's Supermarket. And, he projected a mystic persona when he was up in his small office handling the business of the business which eventually became the responsibility of his sweet cousin, Lisa Wagner Shuler - who in turn delegated the cash register duties to Maxine, Carol, and Robin.
As I honor him, I am reminded of the last prideful compliment of himself that he shared with me:
"Brian E. Payne, I did well with you. Look at you. You first started with me by cleaning the meat room at 13. You and Chesnutt. Then you made your way to bag boy with Peaches right next to you. And, in the end you went off to college with my money for your text books. I am so proud of what I have done. You will always be my son."
I laughed and said,
"Bobby Stevenson, you can’t imagine what you have done for me outside of the job, my red Volkswagen Beetle, and the financial contributions for college. You helped me realize that you and others are HUMAN - and not just WHITE men/women. You have helped me understand selflessness and love without condition. You have motivated me to always cherish where I started, Thomasville. You help make me. I love you. Thank you."
At that moment two months ago, I knew it was my last time seeing him alive. He must have known too because he began to cry.
Praise Him, We Know Him as Bobby Stevenson!
I remember the soft rock playing in the background at Wagner's...I loved faithfully spending my weekends there:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMD8hBsA-RI
Brian E. Payne
