About — THE SLIPS // KINSALE

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DECEMBER 2022 - ANNIE ARNEST

She went by Betty, or Betty Banks, or Miss Betty, but she was always Mom to my brothers and me. She lived up to that too, providing the love, strength and attention of the best of moms – and sprinkling maternal advice here and there with reminders like: once on your lips, forever on your hips; don’t lay out in that sun you’ll get wrinkles; and you should put a little lipstick on before we leave the house.

She also taught us many specific skills – at a very young age I was trained on how to give a good shoulder massage, and not much later how to pack oysters. A favorite game was called “Beauty Salon” which we played almost every day after school and it involved me combing her hair, re-applying her makeup, and rooting through her jewelry chest. We both loved it. She taught Will to garden, and they’d pour over bulb magazines together picking out next seasons flowers. Lee she also taught to give massages, so she was never without a masseuse in the house.

But really it was in the WAY she lived that I learned the most: her interactions with people, that kind, welcoming spirit; she was open-minded and curious; sweet but steadfast. And her perseverance. This too shall pass was a saying she went back to often.

For Mom, age was always just a number and she was always young at heart. I remember she and Sally Brownley were at the grocery store in Warsaw years ago, and they were grateful when a young man from Food Lion helped carry their bags to the van. Offering him compliments and thanks, he turned and said, “Oh but I really enjoy helping old ladies like you” - they couldn’t tell that story without giggling at the absurdity. They would have been at least 80 years old at the time.

She had genuine connections with so many people – and though I always knew how lucky I was that she was mine – I’m glad I got to share her with many others that considered her a second mother, grandmother, best friend, or kindred spirit. She made people feel comfortable, at ease with themselves, and at home at Sloop Point.

Running the marina has been a great excuse to go through my grandparents’ old photos and share them. Someone recently told me, “I love seeing pictures of your grandparents and hearing their stories – they were so eccentric!” This was funny to me, because growing up I always thought they were the most normal people around out of you guys.

I had the best childhood surrounded by their fun-loving friends and family: people like Sally Brownley, Rosa Lewis, Ruth Carter, Rita Chin and Mary Young Unruh, Marilyn Carter, Bea Davison, Aunt Flossie & Uncle Walter, Lucy Lee & Herbert King, Herbert Hundley, the Nolans and the Dentons, the Beales, the Harrises, the Swans, the Skords and of course Aunt Frances. Maybe it was an eccentric crew and they were often the ringleaders. Mom loved special occasions, and really had a knack for making any occasion special. Together she and my grandfather prioritized having a good time, creating a beautiful life, and sharing that with others.

A few weeks back I was going through her book collection and noticed that some focused on the topic of “why did this happen to me?” That was a feeling she never voiced out loud, just something she must have studied alone. She never gave up though, she didn’t let being in a wheelchair interfere with her fabulous style, her need to wear high heels, or her love of traveling and social events. She certainly didn’t give up on her appearance – she was a lifelong beauty queen and Allen came over weekly to do her hair until the end. Barbara and Marlene always kept her looking sharp – even when she was just going out for a covid shot, she was sporting jewels and a fur.

And she didn’t let life’s setbacks interfere with her relationships – she was an attentive friend, a supportive grandmother, and an impressive flirt – always talking about her many beaus and admirers.

And she didn’t let it wear out her faith. She had faith that she would dance again. And I know she’s dancing now. Joined by a long line of handsome men, loved ones, and all those fun friends she’s lost over the years.

Perhaps the answer to “why me,” is that she was stronger than most of us. The universe knew she could handle it, and not just handle it but do it all with beauty and grace. Throughout her 77 years of being affected by polio, she continued to live a full & vibrant life, serving as an inspiration to those around her. Through the many sad losses she faced, particularly having to say goodbye to her son, daughter, and Frank – she and my grandfather together showed a stoic side. She was a true pillar of the community and source of strength for others. Tayloe Murphy once compared Mom to the Queen of England on his way into church right there – I think it had to do with her wardrobe that day, which was always a little more Elizabeth Taylor inspired than what you saw across the pond – but she was tickled by that. And in so many ways she did serve as a Queen for many of us and this community.

On behalf of the family, I want to thank her absolutely devoted group of friends that surrounded her in her final years: Allen Elledge, Martha Kent, Debbie Woodward, Mary Lou Stephenson, Garda Dean Bartlett, Lynn and Petie, the Vishinski Family, Marlene, Barbara, Hazel, Rosemary, Betsy and Dave and all her Plainview neighbors. And I want to thank my mother, who goes by Mommy since Betty was always Mom, for sharing us with our grandparents, for continuing to live in Kinsale after the love of her life died, and for ensuring that Betty and Lee were able to live out their lives at Sloop Point, their ultimate wish.

In Mom’s final week I taught Will’s 4 year old daughter Stasia how to play Beauty Salon. We sat there in Mom’s room at her vanity and Stasia took to it immediately – fixing my hair and picking out jewelry for both her, Mom, and me to wear. I’m proud to say she’s a natural at these things. We will all carry on Mom’s legacy of love and laughter and perseverance -- and strive to live up to her beauty on the inside and out.

DECEMBER 2022 - O.D. SMITH

My name is David Smith, better known here in Kinsale as O. D., my initials which became my nickname at St. Christopher’s School, where I met Harry Lee Arnest III. Luckily for me, he & I became good friends, and it was there I met his mother Betty. That day 58 years ago, during the fall semester of 1964, she had driven up to Richmond to pick him up for Thanksgiving.

Harry Lee had told me about his mother’s being stricken with polio shortly after his birth, but on this day, that was not at all apparent. All I saw was a pretty, warm & friendly woman, someone with whom I felt an immediate bond. It wasn’t until the next summer, when I first came to Kinsale, that I really saw Betty in action, seeming to float through the house, pushing her tea cart with ease, making motion look effortless and making you forget there was any problem at all. I marveled at how she glided out the side door, down the steps and into the car, ready to hit the outside world with her usual enthusiasm. At that point in my life, in my older teenage years, I had yet to meet anybody so disabled, and to this day, I’ve yet to meet anybody who handled it with such grace.

With me, Betty discussed her polio experience only once - one night when she gave me a ride from Alexandria to Kinsale. My family was living in Northern Virginia, so my father drove me over to meet Betty at Phil & Scotty Arnest’s and off we went. Betty was comfortable talking with anyone, and she made me feel at ease talking with her. Most of the way we laughed about all kinds of things, but at some point the conversation became more serious and turned to her illness of almost 20 years before. She related how she was told she’d never walk again, and how she simply wasn’t going to accept that without a fight. After her initial hospitalization at the naval base in Key West, and her months of rehab at Warm Springs, she came out on both feet, determined to resume life as she’d known it to the fullest extent possible. I think her fortitude and her drive were inspired by her deep faith, and by her selflessness in her desire to create a normal, happy home for her family. Whereas she was always striving, I think she also accepted with a sense of satisfied resignation when she realized she’d come as far as she could. I remember watching her walk down the aisle at Harry Lee & Alice’s wedding, all smiles, with one hand in her husband’s and the other on a cane, the perfect embodiment of inner strength and parental pride- something that caused me to tear up at the moment, and an image I remember to this day.

Betty knew she was extremely fortunate in her family and the ability for them to lead a happy life in her hometown. Some parents in her situation would have been what we call hovercraft or helicopter parents. But she & Lee never let the shadow of physical limitation, which had struck her at an early age, and her son-with his heart condition-at birth, interfere in Harry Lee’s pursuits of education, travel and adventure. When Jane came along, she too was allowed to be a free spirit. I always looked forward to a visit to Kinsale, so different from what I was used to growing up in Richmond’s Fan District and the suburbs of Fairfax County. Staying at Sloop Point was a cross between an educational vacation and a sitcom, with laughter as a constant soundtrack. Alice asked me to recall some specific incidents or topics of conversation that amused us, but I had to reply that we were usually laughing at things going on around us - and that included other people. For that reason I’ll have to borrow a line from a priest who conducted a friend’s recent funeral, in which he said of the deceased, “we all have such vivid memories and great stories we can tell, but as I can’t tell them in here, we’ll just have to tell them in the parking lot later”. At the reception at the Great House after Harry Lee’s funeral, the first thing Bettysaid to me was, “I’ll sure miss his sense of humor”. He came by that naturally, and I think that humor, which seemed to flow through the veins of the entire Arnest family, was a balm that kept them all going for so long.

Harry Lee’s and my parents got on famously, and over the years, we all had lots of great times. In September 1968, when Harry Lee embarked on his junior year abroad on the original Queen Elizabeth, my mother & I joined Betty & Lee in New York for the sailing. The following spring, the entire Smith family went out to Dulles Airport to see Betty, Lee, & Jane board their Pan Am flight to Paris where they joined Harry Lee for spring break. Among the many other happy occasions were Jane’s debut at the Holly Ball, where I represented Harry Lee who was on an archaeological trip in Turkey; one of the first September Kinsale Days; and of course Harry Lee & Alice’s wedding. There were other fun times too numerous to mention. There were also sad times, as a son, daughter, spouses, and parents were laid to rest, but those of us who were left behind were always there for each other. Fortunately for all of us, but for Lee & Betty in particular, Harry Lee & Alice brought a wonderful new generation into Kinsale, and especially for Betty in her years as a widow, Alice, Will, Annie, Lee the fourth, and finally little Stasia, gave her not only good company but great joy.

Later occasions were somewhat more subdued, like Betty’s 90th birthday dinner at Walter & Lynn’s home, Plainview, where she leaned over to me and said, “I was born in that room I across the hall”. As the years progressed, two things Betty didn’t lose were her sense of humor and her looks. She’d always been known for her stylish appearance, and she always wanted to look her best, but she was in no way conceited. In fact, I found her quite self deprecating, such as the time she was fighting her weight and greeted me with, “Indeed, OD, I look just like a baby elephant”. Another time she shared an experience she and her friend Sally Brownley had at the grocery store. As they followed the boy carrying their bags to the car, they laughed so much that Bettysaid to the him, “You must think we’re just two crazy old ladies”. His reply, which greatly amused Betty, was, “No ma’am, I think you’re two really nice...old ladies”. The last time I saw Betty, she was considerably less vocal, but still smiling that pretty smile.

Today, I’d say the lesson I’ve learned from her, and the message I have for all, is never give up, make the most of your situation, and try to be as happy as you can be - not just for yourself, but as a gift to others. No matter what was happening in Betty’s life, I never once heard her complain, but I always saw her smile. There’s a familiar line from Psalm 118 that‘s a favorite of mine, and I think it’s especially appropriate for Betty. It’s “This is the day the Lord has made! Let us rejoice and be glad in it!”

As we remember Betty, and reflect on our own lives, let us all rejoice, be grateful, and smile.