By Mike Pound

mpound@joplinglobe.com

Lowell Pugh wasn’t around when I dropped by to see him the other day.

It’s probably just as well. Lowell’s a pretty low-key guy, and since I plan on bragging on him a bit here, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be crazy about talking to me. Lowell loves to chat with folks; he just isn’t much for talking about himself.

Lowell runs Pugh Funeral Home in Golden City. The funeral home has been in his family for more than 100 years. I first met Lowell several years ago when I drove over to Golden City to talk to him about The Dead Beat magazine. The Dead Beat is a trade publication, of sorts, that Lowell and Joanne Howard publish. The magazine’s target audience consists, of course, of funeral home directors, but as fits Lowell’s personality, the publication is presented with a down-home sense of humor. I’m on Lowell’s subscription list, and when my copy of The Dead Beat shows up in my mailbox here at the paper, I grab it and read it from cover to cover. For a magazine geared toward the funeral home business, The Dead Beat has a great jokes page.

I spent a couple of hours sitting with Lowell and Joanne at his funeral home when I was working on the column about The Dead Beat. As I remember, though, we didn’t talk about the magazine that much. We mainly talked about life, which, in an odd sort of way, seemed to be a natural thing to talk about in a funeral home. Let’s face it: You don’t spend a lot of time dealing with death without learning a thing or two about life.

The reason I’m talking about Lowell is because former Globe reporter Mike Surbrugg called me last week. Mike was born and raised in Golden City. He told me that Stanley Parker called him with news about Lowell. Stanley said Lowell wasn’t doing so well. He said Lowell was suffering from a macular degeneration that was slowly robbing him of his eyesight. Stanley said Lowell seemed to be feeling OK, but he thought the eyesight thing might be bothering him some. Stanley’s concern, Mike said, was that not enough people knew enough about Lowell. Mike suggested that I do a column to try and alleviate some of Stanley’s concerns.

Wednesday morning, I drove to Golden City and stopped by Stanley’s barbershop. Stanley was giving Carl Singer a haircut. Waiting in one of the chairs along the wall was Stanley’s brother-in-law, Harry Beerly. The three guys told me they have known Lowell all of their lives. Stanley, who is 73, told me that Lowell is four years older than him. He told me that the town of Golden City would be a completely different town if it hadn’t been for Lowell. He said Lowell has been the town’s biggest booster for decades.

In addition to running the funeral home, Lowell ran the family’s hardware store for many years. He was a longtime member and often president of the Golden City Chamber of Commerce, served on the City Council for many years, and was mayor several times. He was a driving force behind the creation of the Missouri Prairie Foundation. Lowell also was a longtime member of the Golden City Parks Board and often could be found mowing the town’s park with his own mower. And, more than anybody else, he was responsible for getting Golden Business Forms to open its plant in town.

See, there is no way Lowell would have talked to me about any of that. Instead, I’m pretty sure he would have tried to pass the credit around. To be sure, there are a lot of folks who have played a role in keeping Golden City alive. Stanley just thinks folks need to know that Lowell played the biggest role.

I told Stanley that I hoped my column wouldn’t sound like an obituary, and he laughed. He said he didn’t mean to suggest that Lowell was going anywhere soon; he just thought he deserved some recognition.

“A lot of times, we don’t recognize people until they’re gone,” Stanley said.

After I chatted with Stanley, I headed over to the funeral home. The front door was locked, so I walked around and tried a few other doors. They were all locked, so I got back in my car and drove out of town. On the way back to Joplin, I remembered that when I first chatted with Lowell, he told me to stop by any time I was in the area. I told him I would. But, like a lot of things I say I will do, I never did get around to stopping by. It seemed that whenever I was in the area, I was short of time. And whenever I had time, I wasn’t in the area.

I decided during that drive back to Joplin that I would make time to stop in and chat with Lowell. And I promised myself that when I did, I wouldn’t spend too much time bragging on him.