People ask, “Has the Holy Cow History column gone away?”

No. In fact, it’s returning to The Chronicle next week.

But the prolonged absence deserves an explanation.

For years, I struggled with a misdiagnosed physical condition. Month by month, my mobility declined. By late 2019 I could only walk short distances with a cane.

An MRI finally revealed the real culprit: severe arthritis in my middle back, compounded by 2 badly herniated discs.

I underwent multiple medical procedures. Nothing helped. My mobility decreased. The cane gave way to a walker in early 2020; by March I was unable to even stand up.

In September, surgery became inevitable. For a host of reasons I won’t bore you with, that meant a costly trip to California for an even more costly operation.

Then, incredible things happened. Several of our Lexington County neighbors stepped up—without being asked mind you—and made things possible. It was hard for me to accept help, because I’ve always been self-reliant. I won’t mention names because these folks are too modest.

Suffice it to say RJM volunteered to accompany me to the West Coast and assisted me in getting around; RDW purchased a new wheelchair for my use; JBC shared invaluable professional recommendations; and SSC offered a steady stream of encouragement.

And so I had life-improving surgery December 9. It went, according to the surgeon, “textbook perfectly.” I’m feeling better and hopefully will be walking again by spring.

I’ve learned a lot from this humbling experience. “It takes a village to raise a child,” the old African proverb says. And maybe so. But I discovered it also takes caring villagers to keep an old man moving.

The moral of this: Don’t be too proud to accept help when you really need it. Because God puts caring people in your life for a reason. I am deeply blessed by every one of them.

I did much reading during my convalescence and gathered a bushel basketful of new fun, forgotten stories from the past, which I will tell you about next week. Happy New Year everybody!