I first met former real estate agent, city councilwoman, and bail bonds woman Sandra Cable over 30 years ago on the sidewalk in front of what was then called the First National Bank of Stafford. I had been in the bank trying to sell Ken Hutto advertising. The reason I remember it so vividly is because she demanded to know whether I had six toes. Talk about a pickup line.
I knew who she was as I had been covering city council meetings at Stafford. She was wearing a pale blue pair of form-fitting bell bottom pants and, I think, a pale blue blouse and western cut jacket and driving a pale blue Cadillac. With her gleaming red hair, she cut a striking figure. (The Cadillac might be a faulty memory, but I do remember that she was dressed to match whatever kind of car it was).
Sandra claimed that a friend of hers from high school who looked exactly like me had six toes and she just knew we were one and the same. I thought I was going to have to take my shoes off right there in front of the bank to prove I was not her high school buddy.
That encounter started a 30 plus year friendship which only ended Thursday with her passing away. The funeral is today (Tuesday) and I have to admit that I did not carry out my promise to her to come to the funeral home and attach her false eyelashes.. However, I told her daughter Amy and I hope Amy accomplished that last little task and it will join the thousands of little things she has done for her mother in recent months.
Not long after the meeting at the bank, Sandra and I became fast friends, probably because we were both wild girls back in those times. Any time I wanted to kick back with someone who was FUN I knew I could call Sandra. Sandra once told my Aunt Edna, who lived with me at the time, that she knew Aunt Edna didn’t like her, but she wanted Aunt Edna to know, “My mother doesn’t like Bev either!”
Since Sandra was on the Stafford City Council and went on to serve 20 years, and I owned the newspaper, we didn’t exactly run naked through the streets, but we did have some interesting episodes.
I settled down substantially and I guess Sandra did too although even when we saw each other in recent years, we always had a good time. The stories I could tell about both of us, which I am not going to do in these pages. But maybe I will visit with her seven children who dearly loved her, and regale them with some of our exploits. I will miss Sandra and I will mourn the passing of our youth when we had such fun, and the absence of such a good friend from my life.