Chapter Ten
"Twila . . . she's gone," the tear-choked voice said over the other end of the phone.
My intuition had told me that the early morning call that first day of September was Julie. "Oh, no" I reacted. I knew it was coming yet I wasn't totally prepared for that statement.
"Did she go easy?" I asked Julie as the realization pierced my mind. "Yes," Julie softly replied, "I wish you could see her peaceful look now."
Julie had spent that night, as she had the last few, in the chair at the foot of the bed. At 4:30 A.M. she was awakened and moved to Ethel's side. Ethel opened her eyes and feebly murmured her last words: "I love you." Then all was quiet. At 6:30 A.M. Julie again was awakened by gasps. An hour later Ethel's heart stopped.
I was numb as Julie said to me, "Have a good cry and when you get to your office, give me a call."
What do I do now? Where do I begin? My mind was racing with thoughts and questions.
I made it to my office in a daze and called Julie. The next step
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was to notify friends before they heard it on the news. It was decided I should go to Forest Lawn to make the necessary arrangements for the funeral and burial.
As I sat in the Forest Lawn reception room, I couldn't help remembering one of the times Ethel told me how anxious she was to go to heaven.
"When I get there," she said, "I'm gonna say, 'Hey, you over there, move over. And you up front, sit down. I wanna get a better look at my Jesus.' " I imagine it only took moments for her to race past St. Peter to get to her Master's side. In my mind I could see her throwing those big brown loving arms around Jesus and saying, "I'm finally home." I could visualize her sitting at Jesus' feet saying "I love you so much, Jesus. You were so good to me," as she forgot about all the suffering and hardship she had endured on earth.
I awoke from my mental dreaming as the counselor came into the room. He had been a fan of Ethel's, he told me. Then we were down to business.
Since it was Labor Day weekend, did we want to wait until Tuesday for the service? What time? Who would be the minister? Who would sing? What songs? Had we picked out a casket? What type of vault? Did we want the service to be private? How many memory folders? My mind was whirling as I made decision after decision. Then I had to talk to the florist and the cosmetologist.
Two and a half hours later I was back in my office to the sound of ringing phones. The press had been alerted and were calling to confirm the fact, friends were calling to extend sympathy and offer help, and there were still many decisions to be made. Somehow the day went whirling by.
As I watched the TV news that night, I was awed by the beautiful tributes the stations carried about Ethel. However, I was upset that they were saying she died in poverty. That absolutely wasn't true. I had taken care of her checkbook for years and knew she wasn't penniless. The Billy Graham Association
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faithfully supported her, and she had tucked away royalty checks in savings accounts. She too used to get upset at reports that she was broke. "People think I'm living in a hut and holdin' a tin cup — it's not true."
Not only was my phone busy at the office but it rang at home too. Long-lost friends and relatives Ethel undoubtedly didn't know she had were crawling "out of the woodwork." Where had they been when Ethel needed them?
I was so caught up in the details of planning the funeral that it wasn't until days later that I realized how much I was going to miss her. The person I had loved for over seven years and one who had loved me in return was no longer there to give or accept my love. I once had told Ethel, "I need you and you need me." That's why we had such a beautiful relationship. Now a channel of love was missing from my life.
On September 6, the pieces all came together for the service. I left my office early for Forest Lawn to check on last minute details. There I found Dr. Grady Wilson readying his message. He had flown in that morning from Jackson, Mississippi, where he was holding an evangelistic crusade. I went over with him the order of service that Julie and I had planned.
The mahogany casket was in place in the front of the Church of the Recessional. It was closed but surrounded by flowers sent from Sammy Davis, Jr., Pearl Bailey, Irving Berlin, MGM Studios, as well as the Billy Graham Team and a host of other friends. I checked the casket arrangements which I had ordered — purple mums, lavender roses and white carnations. The ribbon said "MOM."
At 1:30 P.M. I took my place in the front pew with Sue MacDonald, an old friend of Ethel's who had come from Philadelphia, Reginald Beane, Ethel's accompanist for over forty years, and Mary Crowley, Ethel's dear friend from Dallas.
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Ethel's precious son, as she called Dr. Grady Wilson of the Billy Graham Association, began the service.
"Ethel Waters has been homesick — but now she's home."
Wow, he's so right, I thought to myself. Time and time again she told me how she looked forward to going to heaven.
Dr. Wilson continued the service reading the entire 71st Psalm. I was so glad God honored her prayer of that first verse to "never be put to confusion." Even at age eighty, her mind was sharp to the end.
Dr. Wilson prayed: "Thank you Father and God for this glorious homegoing of our long-time friend and Thy faithful anointed servant whose life and witness and songs have thrilled millions of people throughout the entire world. We pray that Thou wouldst comfort hearts now of loved ones and friends and neighbors."
I tried to be brave. The service was really a happy occasion for me, because I knew Ethel was no longer in pain. My tears were selfish ones as I realized how much I would miss her.
Dick Bolks and Paul DeKorte sang one of Ethel's favorite songs, "Just a Closer Walk with Thee." I visualized her singing that song to the crusade audience. Her face would glow, her eyes would sparkle and she would have that big Waters grin. The laughs, the tears and the fun we shared at crusades were now just happy memories.
George Beverly Shea sang another of Ethel's favorites — "What a Friend We Have in Jesus." I remembered that just a few days ago when I visited her and that song came on her radio, she had tried to muster enough strength to sing along. Jesus was her best friend.
Billy and Ruth Graham were overseas when they learned of Ethel's death. Since Mr. Graham was on his way to preach behind the Iron Curtain, they could not be a part of the service.
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However, he sent the following telegram which Dr. Wilson read at the service:
I am sending this from Austria on my way to Hungary. Ethel Waters was one of the most unforgettable characters I ever knew. She was a superstar not only on stage and screen but in her personal religious faith. Born in poverty she rose to this height. Though she was world famous she was humble, gracious and generous. After her rededication to Christ in 1957 she became a member of our team and one of our closest friends and counselors. Her good common sense and deep spiritual commitment caused hundreds to seek her advice and counsel on many subjects. In her own way she did as much for race relations as any American in the 20th Century. The last time I saw her she was looking forward with great anticipation to going to heaven. Our loss has been heaven's gain.
Dr. Wilson related a story of several years ago. Ethel was joining his evangelistic campaign in Washington County in the State of Maine. It was in the middle of winter and the deep snows had fallen. An airline stewardess recognized her and said, "Miss Waters, what on earth are you doing way up here in Maine this cold time of the year?" Very quickly Ethel replied, "I'm on my way to a crusade for Christ." The stewardess responded, "Well, for heaven's sake."
Ethel quipped, "That's right, baby. It's for heaven's sake."
Dr. Wilson continued, "Everything she has done for these past twenty years has been for heaven's sake. She has been a messenger of communication.
"The press has reported she died in poverty. Ladies and gentlemen, that's a terrible mistake. She was was fabulously rich in heaven's treasures. Years ago she believed what her Savior said about laying up for yourself 'treasures in heaven where
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neither most nor rust doth corrupt and thieves cannot break through and steal.'
"This day we celebrate Ethel Waters' homegoing. What a radiant saint of God she was! She was such a blessing to all wherever she went."
I thought of the time after the 1971 big earthquake in Los Angeles and I called Ethel to see if she were all right. "Oh, honey, I'm okay," she said. "I wasn't afraid. I just said, 'Jesus, you've got my address and I've got yours. Just let me know what you want.' "
By tape recording Ethel Waters once again had the last words:
Watch a video of Ethel Waters singing at a Billy Graham crusade in 1975
So why should I feel discouraged,
Why should the shadows come,
Why should my heart by lonely
Longing for heaven and home.
When Jesus is my portion?
My constant friend is He:
His eye is on the sparrow.
And I know He watches me.
His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He watches me.
I sing because I'm happy,
I sing because I'm free.
For His eye is on the sparrow
And I know He watches me.
After the benediction, the more than one hundred people including Pearl Bailey, John T. Bubbles, Ethel's old vaudeville friend, as well as members of the cast of The Member of the Wedding filed past the casket.
The casket-carriers lifted the beautiful wooden box into the hearse. The procession began winding down the road of the Forest Lawn Memorial Park.
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We had asked three of Ethel's dearest friends to give eulogies at the graveside. Mary Crowley recalled her memories of Ethel sitting by her apartment window singing along with a Bill Gaither album.
There's been time when giving
and loving brought pain
and I promised
I would never let it happen again:
but I found out that loving
was well worth the risk,
and that even in losing you win.I'm going to live the way He wants me to live,
I'm going to give until there's just no more to give;
I'm going to love, love 'til there's just no more love
I could never outlove the Lord!
Those words perfectly describe our Mom.
Cy Jackson, a friend of twenty years, told of the joys of knowing this great woman. He ended his eulogy by quoting Leonard Feather who had written in the Los Angeles Times: "She was beautiful in her youth, dignified in middle age, poignant in her final years. She will be long remembered by those of us for whom, at some point in our lives, happiness was just a woman called Ethel."
Reginald Beane concluded the eulogies by telling about "LaBelle," his nickname for Ethel. He then read a poem they both had loved.
The sky was a vivid blue above the tree tops. The bright sunshine pushed the temperature into the 90s as we concluded our celebration of Ethel's homegoing. A bundle of memories flooded my mind as I stood at the graveside of my other Mom.
In particular, I remembered a telegram I had sent for her to Vincente Minnelli, the director of the film Cabin in the Sky,
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when she was unable to attend a special dinner for him. It said: "It grieves me not to be able to physically attend your wonderfully deserved affair. As you know, due to my confinement, I will be there in spirit. A long time has passed since Cabin, although Petunia has always valued your love and friendship. I want to personally invite you and each in attendance to visit me in my 'Cabin in the Sky.' "
That was Ethel's invitation to everyone she met. If she were here to help me end this book, she would say, "Tell them Ethel says, 'I'll be looking for you in heaven.' "
