I wrote of her late husband, the beloved Dr. C. W. McCall Sr., as a &dquo;Best Friend of Tryon&dquo; (like that locomotive at Charleston) and she certainly must share in that accolade for her nearly seventy years of community service. She was not a stay-at-home mom as the wife of a professional might easily be, but she was always there to help move things along if it would make Tryon a better place to live. &bsp;I joined a host of my friends and hers at Tryon&squo;s United Methodist Church for services celebrating her life. Her extended family came in to Music Box Dancer played with vigor and style by Joy Gardner, celebrating Dot&squo;s love of dancing since childhood. They filled a quarter of the sanctuary, almost outnumbering the large gathering. Dr. Neil Haynes told of her lifelong love of roller skating, and mentioned that her skates were on display downstairs. After a chorus of &dquo;All God&squo;s Chillun Got Shoes,&dquo; he said that Dot would be found &dquo;skatin&squo; all over God&squo;s Heaven.&dquo;He also told of an eye examination in which Dot was told to fix her gaze directly into the doctor&squo;s eyes while he checked her peripheral vision and various reactions. When he finished, Dot told him, &dquo;You are one handsome man!&dquo;When friends were invited to speak after grandson Kevin had offered reminiscences, I went forward to say that I well remembered those skates that were clamped to our shoes, tightened by a skate key worn on a shoe string around our neck. I was fortunate to have such shoes, as most kids wore Keds (nothing like Air Jordans!) back then. I also mentioned the many skinned knees I got. I then said that my favorite memory of Dot (and Elizabeth Chapman, too) is that after I gave blood to the Red Cross at Holy Cross, she would take my arm and guide me safely to the table for juice and cookies. I was amused by the thought that this was a role reversal: the &dquo;little old lady&dquo; was helping the Boy Scout cross the street. We made it OK every time.Dot always welcomed me into their home and then disappeared while Dr. Bill Sr. and I talked about his beloved Tryon and its people. She would rejoin us when talk switched to their family, which is large and anything but dysfunctional. Ah, the stories!Dr. McCall Sr. attended Kiwanis and Historical Association meetings regularly as long as he could, and I took videotapes to him of the Historical meetings he missed. Drs. Bill Jr. and Mark always brought him to Kiwanis, and took him home for a visit afterward. They continued their regular after-Kiwanis visits with their mother after Sr&squo;s death. I believe those boys truly exemplify the Commandment to &dquo;Honor thy father and mother, that thy days may be long . . .&dquo; Looks to me like Bill and Mark will be with us for a long time. Hallelujah!