I have been working on a blog about Honduras for about two weeks now. I know that a blog has been long overdue, and all I could think of was Jim's advice to me to be more prompt with telling my supporters what was happening in my life on the World Race. Well, that blog will have to wait a little longer.
I found out yesterday morning as I was prepping to return to mainland Honduras that Jim Gay passed away. I was in complete shock as I read the news of his death. I mean, he had just posted on my facebook wall on Sunday, and I'd just taken a picture of a metate to send to him the day before; how could he be gone so suddenly? In stead of questioning the Lord's timing or reasoning in Jim's death, I have to trust Him through it, and focus rather on the impact this man had on my life, and the legacy he is leaving behind.
When I first met Jim, I was introduced to Him by a colleague who said he was a genius with chocolate. It was at the reception for the opening of the coffee house at Colonial Williamsburg and he was conveniently standing beside a chocolate fountain. We talked for thirty minutes about chocolate, and he offered to teach me how to make it one day.
Soon after our meeting, Jim began allowing myself and my dear friend and fellow actress, Amaree, to come to the colonial kitchens (known as Foodways) and begin learning how to prepare food in pure colonial fashion. The initial intention was for character developement, so that we would be experienced when we talked about cooking as our 18th century characters. What neither Jim or I knew was that he was preparing me for essential life skills I would need for a mission trip I hadn't even heard of yet.
With my amazing friends at foodways, I learned everything from how to sharpen a knife and butcher a pig…
…to how to make chocolate on a metate and roast coffee beans over a fire.
(The process of making chocolate is rehearsed for my squad mates every time I have seen a metate or cacoa pod in central america. It's made possible only by the excellent instruction of Jim.)
Jim took Amaree and I under his wing and taught us everything he knew at every chance he got. He implanted his love of mixing history and food in our hearts, and quickly became one of the things we most looked forward to at work. I think he thought we were a little silly while we sang and flitted about the kitchen, or when we took three times as long to get through a recipe as him or Barb, but he was patient in his instruction all the same.
Last spring, I announced to him that I was planning on leaving the 18th century to follow the Lord's leading to the mission field. Immediately, he became one of my biggest supporters. He told me that he was making it his life's goal to ensure that I made it to the field. I was overwhelmed by his generosity and willingess to tell everyone he knew about my growing passion for the World Race.
He quickly stepped the foodways teaching up a notch. He began preparing me for both my interpretation at CW as well as for practical knowledge I would need in third world countries. He seriously thought of everything. At first, I didn't imagine I would use many of the numerous skills he instilled in me, but I am only three countries in and have constantly been relying on the information he gifted to me.
He taught me how to start fires, craft cooking spaces, even toughened me up to cook over fires for hours on end.
He taught me how to pluck a pidgeon, cook using rustic tools, and pull water from a well.
Descaling fish, chopping wood, proper cooking sanitation… the list doesn't end. But Jim didn't stop there, he always gave as much of himself as he could for the sake of those around him.
Jim decided to have a barbeque fundraiser to raise money for my race. He spent hours and hours, sacrificing time, money, and sleep to prepare food and make sure everything was perfect for the event. He helped organise, cook, and raise awareness in every way for the benefit. In fact, it was a family affair as his wife and daughter made sacrifices to ensure the success of the fundraiser, supporting their husband and father every step of the way as he was supporting me. Jim was instrumental in helping me raise 1/3 of the funds I needed to go on this mission.
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Yet he didn't cease in his giving. He helped me advertise yard sales, move and store countless boxes and pieces of furniture, and he and his wife, Jan, even cooked dinner for me to make sure I was cared for and my transition out of Williamsburg was one of seamless ease.
One of my last and favourite cooking memories with Jim was when we christened the Anderson kitchen together, cooking for the board of trustees and Mr. Mars. He was pure joy as we were lighting the first fire in the chimney and making the first cuts on the most excellenty fashioned table. He took care to make sure everything was perfect, and kept reminding me throughout that I would be able to walk back into that kitchen one day and tell my children that I had been the first person to cook in it. No detail was out of place, even to the point of remembering my favourite herbs to add to the corned beef stew we were boiling in the cauldron.
My last day of work at Colonial Williamsburg was one of the most memorable days of my life thanks to Jim and some of my other beautiful co-workers. I had been scheduled to cook in the kitchens that morning, and as soon as I got there, Jim told me there had been a change of plans. He'd received a last minute request for a foodways photo shoot, so we had to be extra careful with our preparation of the food, and make it as if we were going to eat it. I instantly became suspicious, but Jim had an answer for every curious question I posed to him about this mysterious photo shoot. So we prepped a feast of turkey on a spit, buttered onions, mulled cider (for the fortification of the cooks), and potatoes. It was cooked to perfection, worthy of any photo shoot! The feast, however, was unveiled later at my surprise going away party and consumed with as much love as was put into the making of it.
Before I departed for my mission, Jim gave me a gift that, due to my absentmindedness in packing, will be waiting for me when I return home. He gave me 11 individually wrapped pieces of handmade chocolate, one for each month while I was on the world race. While I've been away, he continued to encourage me in my culinary efforts, but I seem to have failed to express to him how often he came up in my stories of colonial life, or how often I had to use a skill he'd taught me.
Even though Jim is not living upon this earth, I shall continue to use the experience and lessons he taught me. He will live on in every country I go to, through my stories, and every day life application on the race. His legacy is global, and that's the best way I can think of to say farewell to Jim, and to make sure he is remembered well.
Please keep his wife and family in your prayers. Love, grace, and peace to you all.
