Suicide Times Four

When she came into Buzzy’s Country Store about a year ago with a crock pot and food, I wondered what she was up to.  I knew that it was not her birthday and the fact that she now lived “up the road” told me that she had made a special trip just to come down to Buzzy’s.  

I helped her set up to serve the items that she had prepared and as I did so I asked her what was the occasion.  She teared up a little and simply whispered “My son.”  I knew exactly what she was referring to because we had previously discussed her son taking his life sometime ago.  All I could think to say to her as we prepared the food was something along the lines “Well, it’s good that you came here to Buzzy’s.”

On her FB page the other day she then posted the following  on what would have been her son’s 49th birthday.  

Then last Friday I was at Brinsfield’s Funeral Home attending a service for someone else who had suicided.  As I stood in the back of the roomful of people and listened to the Pastor’s comments about the young man only 35 years old, my thoughts drifted back to several years ago when I stood in almost the exact same spot at Brinsfield’s for a Memorial Service for another young suicide victim.  That young man was only 20 years old when he took his life.  It all just made me even sadder. 

And ultimately, any mention of suicide will always remind me of my friend Doug Courtney.  He went out of here in 1972 and it still remains something that I have never quite processed nor forgotten about.  (I have mentioned Doug in several previous posts here on the Buzzyblog including this one in 2010 (click here) and this one in 2017 (click here.) Too, I just found his obit in the 3 August 72 Enterprise.

St. Mary’s County Library Microfilm Collection — Microfilm Image Viewer (

I’ll leave you with this note that someone posted on her FB page when discussing the death of her brother.  (It was his memorial service from several years ago that I was recalling when at Brinsfield’s last Friday.)  When she notes that “the ache is always there,” I know exactly what she means.

Music-wise, here is a sad song to accompany this sad post.  B.J. Thomas, who passed away the other day from cancer complications, relays the story of how he came to record this first hit of his thanks to his Dad.

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: