In July of 2009 was my first real experience with Sheriff Redmon. Jimmy and I were chairmen of the St. Jerome One Mile Classic, which is held every year the night before the famous St. Jerome Fancy Farm Picnic. We’ve done the race for years, which is geared mostly towards kids. There are some adults out there but the biggest influx of adults are grandparents, pushing their grandchildren in strollers. And so it was that night. Of special interest to us that night was Jimmy’s brother, Danny, pushing the stroller of his first grandchild, Daniel, named after his Papa. Danny was as proud as punch.
After the race took off we went about the business of getting everything ready for when the runners started coming back in, and finishing things for the race. I was under some trees, visiting with some other volunteers, when my cell phone went off. I was told to find Danny’s wife and send her down the road. Danny had fallen. I went to find Mary and she took off. I didn’t think any more about it. Danny was always hurting himself. I figured that he had fallen and sprained his ankle or something. Actually, I was a lot more worried about the baby than I was his Papa.
As I was getting the door prizes out of the pickup truck I heard my name called out over the loud speaker. That never happened. I was being summoned to the sound truck. I was going there anyway because I had the door prizes to start giving out.
When I got there I was ushered to a sheriff cruiser. Deputy Sheriff Redmon (then) walked us over to the cruiser and told us that we needed to get to the hospital now. They had taken Danny and they needed all of the family to join him there. We told him that we were going to finish the race and we would head up there then. He almost forced us into the cruiser and said not to worry, someone would take care of the race. We needed to get to the hospital. As he closed the door we heard him tell the deputy to run both lights and sirens getting us to the hospital.
All the way to the hospital Jimmy and I just looked at each other as we could tell we were going extremely fast. There were times we thought we were airborne. We wondered aloud what Danny had gotten himself into that we had to leave the race and get up to the hospital so fast. We never dreamed we would find that we indeed had to make it to the hospital because Danny had not made it. He had died en route to the hospital. They were there working on resuscitating him but to no avail. He had died.
Sheriff Redmon made sure that every family member had been rounded up and had made it to the hospital. We were all together when they announced that he had died. We were all together while they removed what organs they could since Danny was an organ donor. We were all together as we waited for the funeral home to come.
Even now, ten years later, that time seems so surreal.
Through the years I have thanked Sheriff Redmon time and again for taking care of our family that day. It’s true that he was not the sheriff then but he might as well have been. He took care of the people of Fancy Farm as though they were his family. And he took ownership of the Picnic, the races, the parade, the fireworks. If anything was going on in Fancy Farm, he led the charge. In fact, I have been in several funeral processions from Mayfield where he led the procession.
We were proud when he was elected Sheriff and we were supportive of him throughout his tenure.
Was he a perfect man? I’m sure not. But in my eyes he could do no wrong. I know that he saved a lot of families heartache by giving family members the benefit of the doubt. I also know that he held his shoulders high just in case you needed to lean on those in grief or despair. And that he was a good friend to a whole lot of people.
As we, the people of Graves County, prepare to send this man to his creator, I ask for your prayers for his family and his friends. But I also ask that you send up a little prayer in thanksgiving for this man who gave this county so much, who took care of his people.
