Wednesday, October 1, 2003

Darkness falls on Pylant Street: Senoia loses one of its treasures

By JOHN THOMPSON
jthompson@TheCitizenNews.com

When you live in a small town everything is magnified, and Senoia is no exception.

A fender-bender instantly becomes the subject of discussion at Crook's Hit and Run convenience store, and new people moving into town become the subject of intense speculation.

In 1989, neighbors began seeing moving vans outside the gorgeous old home at 371 Pylant St., and the buzz began.

There were certainly a lot of boxes being moved into the house, and residents were anxious to see who had chosen to make the small Coweta County town home.

After a history in show business, Tom McKeehan had decided to retire in Senoia. Last week, Tom had his final curtain call, and died in a hospital in Atlanta. Tom's loss leaves a huge void in the intricate weave of this unique town.

I met Tom shortly after he moved to Senoia, and was just fascinated by him. Born in LaGrange, he led one of the most interesting lives of any person I had met.

Tom's love was theatre and he worked and operated theaters in Coconut Grove, Fla., and New York City. If you ever prompted him, he could tell you fascinating stories about working with Mae West, Tennessee Williams, William Inge and hundreds of stars who graced the footlights and the big screen.

After I first met him, I asked why he had chosen Senoia to call home. He said he wanted to be within 30 minutes of the Atlanta airport, and just fell in love with the home and Senoia.

Well, the feeling was mutual, as many residents this week mulled over the passing and loss of one of the city's most colorful residents.

Although he was retired, Tom jumped into city activities and became one of the city's treasures. He was always there to help out, whether it was contributing money for playground equipment at the park, or buying benches to help spruce up the city's downtown.

One of Tom's biggest legacies will be his donation of time, money and effort for the historical society's annual progressive dinner.

He would usually stage the main course at his house, and it was always fun to see people's first reactions when they entered his home.

He was a huge collector of Oriental art, but also was a big fan of pop culture. Look on one wall and you might see a Japanese screen next to an oversized Pepsi sign.

A bust of Elvis could be placed next to an antique cabinet. Tom's love of art was only matched by his sense of humor.

Although he lived alone on Pylant Street, there was always something going on at his home. Driving down Senoia's darkened streets at night, you would usually see his house blazing with lights, and you just knew he was working on his next project.

Tom's holiday parties became one of the most coveted invitations of the holiday season. But in keeping with his spirit of community service, Tom would always ask the guests to bring a children's toy to the party, so they could be distributed to the less fortunate in the community.

Even though he didn't have children, Tom focused much of his community service for the kids. He donated many books to the Senoia Library, and also left a very moving monument in the park.

If you drive by the park, you'll notice a magnolia tree planted at the entrance. I remember Tom's outrage at the bombing of the federal building in Oklahoma City, and his horror about the children who were killed or left without parents.

He planted the magnolia tree in memory of the kids, and that tree will one day provide shade and coolness for Senoia's kids.

Tom was also the bridge in uniting the old and new communities in Senoia. He moved to town just as folks from the Atlanta area started discovering Senoia. In many small towns, you're only a local if you can trace back roots for several generations and outsiders are generally shunned.

But Tom's great laugh and smile and spirit of inclusiveness helped rally the town as the force of growth crept into town.

Tom's meaning to the community cannot be understated. It can best be summed up, appropriately, from a Broadway show, "Rent," and its show-stopping song, "Season of Love."

"Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes. How do you measure the life of a woman or a man, in truths that she learned, or tears that he cried, in bridges he burned or the way that she died? It's time now to sing out though the story never ends, let's celebrate and remember a year in the life of friends."

Last week, I drove by the big house on Pylant Street and saw it enveloped in darkness, but realized that Tom's life and love of Senoia is a beacon that will shine forever.