Sheila Pilcher

Saturday, March 16, 2019

Peggy, I will miss you. You were a great nurse and later a great nurse practitioner. A very smart woman and a great teacher You were so kind to me and my children when I first came to the NICU. I loved working with you. Love Sheila

Patrick Endicott

Sunday, March 10, 2019

My condolences, thoughts, and prayers to all the Dixon's and the many others who knew Peggy.

I heard about Peggy on Sunday, February 3rd.

On that afternoon, My wife and I had been on a short outing to conduct a few errands. When the outing was completed, we entered our home from the cold, windy, overcast weather, typical for late winter for South Carolina and for that matter also typical for that time of year in Arkansas where I knew Peggy as a childhood friend.

As soon as we entered the foyer, we were met by my daughter, Heather, who gave us the sad news. The weather seemed to have prepared me for that news, helping me to feel what had happened 800 miles away as if it happened just around the block.

Nevertheless, the cold, windy, overcast day did have much saving warmth, calm, and brilliance. There was a day that Peggy, Richard, and I flew kites on a cold windy day in March. The Dixson and the Endicott families had bonded during the early 60’s such that playing on the streets and vacant lots, playing chase and capture the flag,camping in the Ozarks, attending Church, riding the school bus, exploring the woods, attending NRA hunting lessons,and fishing filled our lives 7 days a week.

Many will remember that the Dixon and Endicott homes were directly across the street from one another on Indian Trail, one of several streets of the Forrest Hills subdivision which was still under development at the time in Forrest City, AR. Nearly all the land behind the Endicott home had been developed into streets and houses, while very little of the land behind the Dixon home was developed beyond the bull dozing of unwanted trees. The number of years that this situation lasted could have been counted on the fingers of one hand. Today that huge unintended playground is now covered with concrete (not asphalt thankfully), houses, a church, and a elementary school.

As for the before mentioned kite flying excursion, Peggy, Richard and I had behind the Dixon home an unobstructed field devoid of power lines and nearly all the trees. The wind was perfect for flying kites on that March day when Ben Franklin's Dime Store was sure to stock a great variety of them. My father advised me to get a box kite; Richard got a conventional shaped kite. We were both successful in getting our kites to fly.

Peggy and I joined our efforts on my box kite while Richard focused his efforts on his conventional kite. Intuitively it made sense that a conventional kite would fly, because of its wing shape, but not a box kite. That a box kite would fly at all was as counter intuitive to me then as quantum entanglement is to me now.

Peggy and I did indeed get the box kite to fly to the full extent of our supply of string for what seemed like an hour. It must have been about a hundred or more yards up and away from us. I had never had such success with a kite as she and I did that day. I've always associated the wonder and exhilaration of that bright day with Peggy. I gladly hear the words, “Go, fly a kite.”

The Endicott's move to Memphis in 1967 initiated a series of other geographic moves which diminished the bonds between the two families. If it weren't for the marriage of Tully Endicott and Patricia Dixon (Peggy's oldest sister), the bond may have virtually disappeared.

A cold, windy, and overcast late winter day can be warm, calm, and sunny. Peggy was and is one of the most altruistic people I have ever known. She is a Dorothy and a Glenda all wrapped up in one. She is now truly far above the rainbow.

If I could sing, I would sing this for her:

Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high
There's a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby

Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true

Someday I'll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far
Behind me
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops
That's where you'll find me

Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly
Birds fly over the rainbow
Why then, oh why can't I?

Someday I'll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far
Behind me
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops
That's where you'll find me

If happy little bluebirds fly
Beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why can't I?


Written by Hoarold Arlen & E.Y. Harburg
Released September 1, 1939.