Let’s go down a rabbit hole this week.
Several years ago, while I was driving a truck for a living, I delivered copies of The Covington News to public schools in Newton County in the wee hours of the morning.
One of the schools I delivered papers to was called Palmer-Stone Elementary School.
I have a son named Parker Stone — a college student, by the way, who is looking for a job, if anyone is in need of help — so I couldn’t help noticing the similarity.
Shoot, I could have named him Palmer. If I had it to do over again, I might have done just that.
According to a story I found on the Oxford Historical Society web site written by David Stone Eady, Palmer-Stone Elementary was named for Professor James Palmer, who taught at Emory College until he died in 1861, and Harry Harlan Stone, who served as the president of the Newton County School Board of Education from 1890 to 1932. Harry was the son of George W.W. Stone, who had also been an Emory professor and colleague of Palmer.
Eady says when the school was first named, trustees may have wanted to name the school Palmer-Stone Institute in honor of both George and James, but “family folklore suggests that George Stone insisted the school be named only for his friend and colleague.”
Now, whenever I hear the name George Stone, I can’t help but think about the “The Untouchables” film and actor Andy Garcia telling Sean Connery his name is George Stone. His real name turns out to be Giuseppe Petri, the Italian version of George Stone. Sometimes I go by Pedro myself, unless there are ICE agents around.
But George Stone was also the name of a pitcher for the Atlanta Braves from 1967 to 1972. More pitchers to follow.
According to Eady, Harry Harlan Stone named one of his sons, Howard, in honor of his brother-in-law, Howard Palmer.
Eady also says his grandmother, Susanne Stone, and great-aunt Emma Stone called their brother “Buddy Howard.”
I had an uncle named Howard Stone, and I still have a cousin named James Harley Stone, who is affectionately known as “Buddy” by everyone in our family. I also have a cousin named Susan, but she married a man from Venezuela, so she now has a different last name. I’m not sure I can spell it. Not that it’s important, but my dad nicknamed Susan’s older sister “Squeaker.” I don’t think I’d like a nickname like that.
Eady says that among Palmer-Stone’s notable graduates is his cousin, Dr. Sarah Elizabeth Branham, who became a renowned medical researcher credited with discovering the cure for spinal meningitis.
Maybe this is a reach, but I once asked a woman named Elizabeth Bingham to marry me. Sadly, she turned me down, which was a cruel and bitter defeat for T. Michael.
While I was driving the truck for The Covington News, my son, Parker, was playing Dixie League baseball and becoming a pretty good pitcher.
He wore number 22.
So, I looked up baseball Hall of Famers who wore that number, so I could tell him about the great ones who sported the number 22.
Here’s where we enter the Matrix.
James Alvin Palmer, better known as Jim Palmer, wore the number 22 and won three Cy Young Awards during a 19-year career with the Baltimore Orioles.
But wait, there’s more. I looked up Jim Palmer on baseballreference.com. Amazingly, he and my son were both born on Oct. 15. I mean, what are the odds?
But I’ve got one more for you.
One of the players on the Los Angeles Dodgers roster is pitcher Gavin Stone. ( LON advertising manager Heather Harris also has a son named Gavin.)
While Gavin Stone’s parents welcomed him into the world at a hospital in Lake City, Arkansas, I was at a hospital in McDonough welcoming Parker.
Yes, they were born on the exact same day.
But Gavin has a job that pays pretty well right now: $742,500 per year, the major league minimum.
I guess I should have taught Parker to throw something other than a two-seam fastball.
Selah.