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"It was about 1961, and it was over at the Clubhouse (the Clarke family retreat near Rock Bridge in Canada community). We had fresh ham and green beans ready and then she asked me, 'Dot, do you think you can make biscuits?' So I made biscuits for 14 people. I was doing pretty good until Mr. Sanford came in and asked if he could watch. That made me real nervous."
Though they had planned toast for breakfast the next morning, the governor asked Elspie if she would please let Dot make some more biscuits.
"I met a lot of people because of the Clarkes," Dot said. "They live in your memory - I have the most wonderful memories that's ever been."
When asked to put her mental picture of Elspie Clarke into words, Dot described a woman "full of life and full of joy at all times. She knew everybody and took care of everybody. Elspie made you feel like you were her sister."
One time when Dot and her family were visiting the Clarke farm in Buncombe County, two men in suits came walking up through the apple orchard. It was Jamie and another man he'd met on an airplane while returning to Asheville.
"He had a layover so I brought him home," Jamie said.
"(The Clarkes) were always doing spur-of-the-moment things like that," said Dot, who remembers how devoted Jamie and Elspie Clarke were to each other.
"It's been hard for Elspie since Jamie died," Dot said.
Knowing the Clarkes enriched my life in many ways. I might have been in Cullowhee for a year, but I was still pretty much a city slicker when I stumbled into their orbit by way of Tommy Beutell's Christmas tree farm. And though the plumbing in the old cabin I lived in was uncertain at best, and local fauna (skunks in particular) rarely respected the boundaries between my house and the great outdoors, I treasure those years.
Elspie came over to the Clubhouse one time without Jamie or any of the kids for a reunion of sorts with her college roommate. Luckily (or unluckily) for me they brought three horses. I can still remember the look of pure delight on Elspie's face when she determined that since I didn't have any classes the next day I would be available to go horseback riding with them.
As usual, she wouldn't take "no" for an answer. The fact that I had never been on a horse and wanted to keep it that way was irrelevant. In her mind, everyone needed to get in the game. Three people and three horses were available; ergo, three people on three horses would take to the old logging roads the following morning.
We rode for miles and covered territory from Flat Creek to the edge of Panthertown Valley. I managed to stay on the horse, and Elspie praised me extravagantly, proud of how well her experiment had turned out.
The long ride left me stiff and sore but grateful for the once-in-lifetime experience. And thankful that I had classes the next day and was excused from their next excursion.
Dot's right about how important people in your life continue to live in your memory.
And I can see her still, standing on the porch at Rock Bridge, eyes shining with enthusiasm as she listened to my news. She had the knack of giving her undivided attention, of really listening to every conversation. Her warm, engaging spirit was an asset during Jamie's political career and an inspiration to those who knew her.
She worked tirelessly for the environment and for education, causes dear to her heart.
Everyone who knew Elspie Clarke lost a friend last week. As her son-in-law told me Friday, "They don't make them like her any more."
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Elspie Clarke is shown here, "doing what she did best, picking berries and such," said Dot Nicholson of East LaPorte. "She lived outdoors."