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James Washington Pullen, or J.W., as most of us knew him, or, simply, "J," as his family called him, passed from this life Wednesday, August 10, 2005. He was 73-years-old, bom and raised just outside the village of Flint Hill and, for some years, had been a patient at Oak Springs nursing home in Warrenton, Virginia.
J.W. had a special place in my life when I was growing up. His father, Clarence Pullen, was brother to my Grandmother Brady and, therefore, was my great uncle. So, J.W. and I were second cousins. But, that didn't really matter; everybody in Pullentown was related.
Like all of us in this life, J.W. had his demons. He dealt with them as best he could. Often, when I think of J.W., I think of the words of the poet who talked about, "living lives of quiet desperation."
But, J.W. had a wonderful gift. A gift that took him away from the toils and snares of everyday life. A gift that lifted him to another level, and a gift that he shared freely with those fortunate enough to know him and spend time with him. I was one of those fortunate people.
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