Characters In My Play James L. Cowles (c) Copyright 2026 by James L. Cowles

Image by Monica Volpin from Pixabay

“Memory,” is a wonderful thing. We tend to appreciate it more as we get older, and at my age, I am thankful I still have it. After all, almost every story I write is about my life, and those who have touched it, and I need a good memory.

Each of us runs into many people in our life experience. I see them as “actors,” “characters” who step on and off our stage to become a part of our theatrical support during our brief stay on this earth. I am not a theologian, nor would I consider myself a deep thinker, but I sometimes wonder if we aren't just acting out a part in life’s play, one that is written, produced and directed by a much higher authority.

While I experienced death at a noticeably youthful age, those people who died when I was a child were not a significant part of my everyday life, and thus their absence had negligible effect on me. My first really meaningful experience with death was when my mother died. I was twenty-two years old, and I was devastated. Enter, Miss Polly, the Treasurer for Hail & Cotton, Inc., Export Tobacco Dealers, where I had just gone to work. Miss Polly was not a “motherly” person, in fact, at first, she seemed to me to be as tough as nails. She was the only female in our office, with eight men, and she was the Treasurer of the company. In fact, she was the only female officer. Although I didn't know it at the time, she was the best person who could have entered my life stage, given my need for encouragement.

Now, I found out later that Miss Polly only appeared to be tough, and when you consider that she had eight men to deal with on a daily basis, some would say she had a need to be so. She was in her early seventies, and loved what she was doing. Most women her age would not be working full time every day, but she was A single lady (in those days they would call her an “old maid”). To my knowledge, she had no siblings, so in essence, she considered all us guys as part of her family. Our President, Mr. Kenny, was in his late seventies, still working every day, and his two sons, Mr. Don and Mr. Larry, were Vice Presidents, and were the sales force for the company, travelling all over the world to sell tobacco. We had Warehouse operations in Clarksville and Springfield, Tennessee, and Wilson, North Carolina, but Louisville was the Home office. It was where all company decisions were made. I wondered at first how Miss Polly had so much authority, that which she was never afraid to use, even when she was dealing with other officers. She was a short lady, with solid white hair, and she wore glasses, the no rim kind. She was always nicely dressed, and she definitely had a look of importance about her. After I had worked there for a while, I began to understand why she was so hard on, Don, Larry, and even Mr. Kenny. First, I realized these boys, Mr. Kenny's children, had been coming into the office since they were children. I could see Miss Polly taking on a motherly role when they came in as kids, bumping into things, and being the pests that kids want to be. I could still see that same firmness she used when they were kids, particularly when they needed a little money from petty cash to cover incidental expenses. These men not only sold tobacco, but they also bought it, travelling the southern states, buying from warehouses and farmers alike. They knew the company’s books and the safe were Miss Polly’s domain, and they best not take money from petty cash without her approval. What I saw firsthand, we’re grown men being childlike when they asked for money. Miss Polly would sternly tell them, “Now, you give me a report on what you spent this money for, so I can make proper expense entries, and if you don’t spend it all, be sure to return what you have leftover, understand? I want your report by Next Wednesday, and don't make me have to chase you down to get it.” She fussed at Mr. Kenny equally as much because he would walk in and take whatever he desired out of the safe. After all, he was president of the company, but he knew he was in trouble when she gave him a stern look, and he would call her, Polly, and tell her he intended to be sure she knew what he was doing. He would always wait until she was gone to look through the books or take cash from the safe, but he would leave her a note that he had done so.

I was a little afraid of Miss Polly at first, but she and I bonded when my mother died. When I got the call that mom was dying, I went to Miss Polly with tears in my eyes and said, “Miss Polly, I just got a call that my mother is dying.” She practically interrupted me, and said, “You go now, Jimmy. You must get there so she can seeImage by Monica Volpin from Pixabay you before she passes. She is probably waiting for you,” and with that, she stood up and escorted me to the stairway, saying something like, “Hurry now, but be safe.” I did make it in time, and took Mom’s hand, and she looked at me and said, “Don’t worry about me; I'll be alright.” She passed away a brief time later. Miss Polly became sort of a surrogate mother to me after that. She certainly seemed to favor me, and she even asked Ms. Cotton, the only survivor of the original principles of the firm, to give me five shares of Hail & Cotton stock, which she matched. I know she hoped that I would take my ten shares as a promise for the future, and make a career there at H&C. I could see it in her eyes, and hear it in her voice.

I was still working there when both Miss Polly and Mr. Kenny retired. Miss Polly decided to retire first, and she wanted it done with absolutely no fanfare, which was too bad, because she certainly deserved it. No sooner had she retired than we decided to modernize our bookkeeping, purchasing an automated machine that did everything but sign the checks. An era had passed. What Miss Polly had done with heavy journals and ledgers, every item being listed by hand, now a machine operated system could do in much less time. But something was lost on the day Miss Polly left the office for the last time. A large piece of the company, and its history, left with her. It wasn't the same, no longer hearing her tongue lashing of company officers, as if they were little boys. I immediately missed her.

When Mr. Kenny retired sometime later, he had made it up into his eighties, maybe nearly, eighty-five. He too resisted any fanfare, but Don, his oldest son, insisted on having a dinner for him, in recognition of his long service to Hail & Cotton, and rightly so. I'm glad he finally agreed because I learned so much about him. He came to work at H&C as a teenager, who ultimately became President of the company. I looked up to this man in so many ways. He was gracious as Don recited his history, and he stood to speak to us, telling us how he remembered the days when Main Street in Louisville was full of tobacco warehouses, with a bar between every one of them. Some of the buyers of tobacco couldn't make it from one block to the next, because they'd visit the bars between warehouses to “refresh themselves.” Mr. Hail and Mr. Cotton must have been pleased with young Kenny, because he was such a diligent worker, and was able to make it all the way down the street without being tempted to pause for refreshment. The young man was an up and comer, and destined to someday become President of A company that had its origin in the early Twentieth century. At the end of the evening, Mr. Don gave Mr. Kenny a certificate for purchase of A brand new Buick, A car Mr. Kenny loved. In fact, he was still driving a Buick that was at least ten years old. Mr. Kenny accepted graciously, but never took advantage. He said his old car was simply fine and he had no need of A new one. I admired him because I felt he was an example of what you could do if you put in the demanding work required to be successful.

I think about H&C often, and I remember with affection the way we put the “Mr. and/or Miss” in front of every first name. It was, and possibly, still is, A way to show respect, while also improving a person’s relationship with his seniors or superiors, but I believe it’s outdated, and I’m glad for that. I must admit, it carried a negative meaning as well to me, related to a much earlier time in our history as a nation, that of slavery. I couldn't help but think of that as I used it. I appreciate respect, especially since I have reached the age of those about whom I write, but I prefer the modern way of calling everyone by their first name, regardless of their position.

I think I disappointed Miss Polly by leaving Hail & Cotton, but I considered the future with a closely held family business to possibly be a job with less opportunity for advancement. I worked there nine years, and I finally had a heart-to-heart talk with Don about my future. I told him I had been investigating sales opportunities, primarily because I didn’t see myself in a bookkeeping role. Hail & Cotton also didn’t need a full-time Accountant. I asked him if there was a possibility of learning more about both purchasing and selling tobacco. He asked if I could give him time to think about it for a while and promised to get back to me. You couldn’t do what I did with just anyone, tell your employer you had been looking at other job opportunities. Most employers would give you that opportunity at once. But these people were more than just employers. I had come to love them, and that’s what made it so difficult to leave them.

The last straw, as one would say, was when I came to work one day and on my desk were a tall stack of journals and ledgers. Hail & Cotton had just acquired another tobacco company, and these were the books for that company. Something in the pit of my stomach felt painful, and I could see myself sitting at a desk posting numbers for the rest of my life. It made my decision much easier, but I still hated to go. I secured a Sales position with an Insurance Broker almost immediately, and the day I left H&C, I had tears in my eyes. Don came to my desk at the end of the day to tell me he was sorry things had not worked out. He also said, “Jimmy, I want you to know that I really admire you. I mean that with all my heart.” I answered my new Employer’s office phone once, after I had been there for several years, and it was Don. By that time, I had been promoted to Sales Manager, and I was staying late one night, after others had left. We had the employees of H&C insured, and he called to ask a question about his health coverage, and I was happy to be able to help him. He told me again that he admired me, and that he was proud of me. That meant as much to me as if it had come from my father. Unfortunately, all three principles in the company succumbed to health issues caused by smoking. None of the three wanted to smoke a filtered cigarette, and I doubt it would have had an influence on their health status.

Every job I have had has taught me so much about people. I made the right decision to go to a company where I could interact with people, and I was able to become a Senior Officer in my division, directing marketing and sales. In light of all the health issues, I’m glad I didn’t stay in the tobacco business, but it has never been about the kind of business with which I was employed. Instead, it has been more about working with lots of people. I don’t believe Miss Polly would be upset with me if she were here today, and I will always hold her in highest regard. I kept the ten shares of stock in H&C she got for me, and one day, after many years, I received a letter telling me H&C had been sold, and If I would endorse the stock certificate, and send it to the company, they would return $5,000 to me. The stock sold for $500 per share. The company and its name still exist, but the Home Office is now in Wilson, North Carolina, where the new owners reside. A few years back I corresponded with the the president of the company, and although I could not adequately do so, I spoke highly of all the people of Hail & Cotton, and told him how positively they had affected my life. The tobacco business is tough, but the people are resilient. They were once wonderful characters on the stage of my life.