When I first moved to Alabama, I was petrified — to say the least.
I didn’t know anyone. I had never lived south of Virginia before, and I had no idea what I was walking into.
I already felt a slightly homey vibe before actually living here. I had traveled here for an extensive in-person interview, and Mitch Sneed, our late editor, had been so helpful in checking out apartments for me, even paying my utility deposit upfront so I would have running water and electricity when I actually moved in.
I had even been invited to Kenneth Boone’s famous Easter crawfish boil.
In a way, I knew I was coming home. But I was still terrified.
One thing that really worried me about coming to Alabama was my moving company was delayed by about three weeks. I came down with an air mattress, a TV, some clothing and the complete collection of Breaking Bad on DVD. That was about where the list ended.
Until I met Betsy Iler, that is.
I pulled into my new home at about 6:30 p.m. April 15, 2017, and within 24 hours, I had met Betsy at Kenneth’s crawfish boil. I went to the Easter bash not knowing what to expect.
If you’ve ever met me, you know I can make conversation with a squirrel. But that’s all just an appearance, to be sure. My anxiety is usually running at full-blast and in a room full of people I’d never met in a state I’d just moved to from across the country, it was on extra high that day.
I quietly talked to a few people. I met Benjamin Hendrix, an athlete I came to know and love. But two of the people who seemed to truly take an interest in me and my life were Betsy and Rob Iler.
They invited me to their church and we discussed what it was like living in the South as Betsy was familiar with coming to a new place. We also discussed my worries about my moving truck.
I’m very easygoing so I wasn’t worried about sleeping on an air mattress for a few weeks, but Betsy wouldn’t hear of it. She and Rob recently had sent one of their kids off to college and had a guest bed they weren’t using.
So what did they do? They brought it to my house after the crawfish boil ended.
I was so blown away by their hospitality. They didn’t even know me, and yet here they were, not only offering me a bed, but bringing it to my home and helping me move it in. Betsy even brought over some fresh sheets she said I could keep.
Part of me thought, “Who are these people, and why are they so kind?”
Betsy taught me an important lesson that day, and it’s one I’ve never forgotten: That’s just how people are in the South, and Betsy — and Rob, too — is one of the best of us.
Ever since that day, I’ve had an affinity for Betsy. I envy her undying love for Lake Martin and our magazine department here at TPI. I admire her hard-working spirit and her dedication to her faith above all else. And most importantly, I am blessed to be able to call her a friend.
Betsy’s a motherly figure in our office. I’ve gone to her with tears in my eyes many times before, and she’s always had a calming word to say.
With her pending retirement set for Monday, I can confidently say we will not be the same without Betsy but we will all be better off for knowing her.
Lizi Arbogast is the managing editor of Tallapoosa Publishers. She can be reached at 434-962-9420 or via email at lizi.gwin@alexcityoutlook.com.
