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By Becky Nichols
Special to the Selma Times-Journal

When you are a child growing up in a small town, everyone and everything round you is BIG.

“Grownups” are part of your life.

They are your neighbors, friends and helpers. They are huge in size and purpose. You admire them, want to be like them and if you are lucky you get to keep them for many years.

Then one by one, they move out of your life.  You are left with their memory but more important you are left with the impact and the purpose of their well- lived lives.

Such is the case in the life of Caldwell DeBardeleben, beloved long-time doctor of this community.

My family called him”Cawell’ because he married my first cousin and therefore he became the Cothran doctor  by default. Throughout our house would ring “Call Caldwell” when someone was sick or hurt.

As a child, my memory of Caldwell is perpetually wearing a white coat and armed with a stethoscope. He had the power to order the always feared “shots” or medicines with varying tastes.

He called me “Beck” throughout the years. I became attuned to that as I grew up and along in years.

The image of his “white coat” broadened into my understanding of the healing power of his presence bringing hope to broken situations.

My father was a long-time diabetic subject to many health issues. Caldwell was often present in our lives through phone calls, home visits and in the hospital.

He was a phone call away in the middle of the night. In the wee hours. All the time.

When I was in an automobile accident in 2003 and was in the emergency room still disoriented, I remember surveying the areas around my cubicle and out of the corner of my eye- who do I see but Caldwell in his white coat standing there. I will never forget that recall.

When my mother died, when my father died and even the afternoon one year ago when my Mr. Nichols died, Caldwell was present by the bed, in the room- but always” there” by my side in our home.

When he retired from practice, his “presence” still brought a sense of hope and rightness.

“Calling Caldwell” was still the language of healing. His interest never waned for those he had treated. His commitment always firm to the community that he passionately loved.

This same story of love and caring belongs to all of patients that “Called Caldwell” through the years. Numbering in the thousands would be those affected by this quiet, unassuming and compassionate doctor who shared his long and beautiful life with our community.

As an adult now, I recognize anew the power than we all have within our lifetimes to affect for good.

To foster peace and good will to all men.

And last to leave always with our fellow man, the power and encouragement of hope and healing.

May we all slow our pace in this lifetime we are given and model anew our commitment to our fellow travelers in this world.

There was a man sent from God and his name was Caldwell Debardeleben.

Becky Nichols is a librarian at the Selma-Dallas County Public Library.