Missing Busbee ring ‘a good story,’ 25 years later

The Busbees haven’t always known what vegetables they were going to order or which desserts they were going to eat at the S&S Cafeteria on Riverside Drive.

They have never known how long the line was going to be after church on Sunday. Or who they might get to visit with in the dining room. 

But they have always known somebody in the family was going to bring up
the ring.

“When we pull into the parking lot, it’s the first thing that comes to mind,’’ Brad Busbee said. “We don’t even have to go to eat there. We can just drive by and somebody will say, ‘Do you remember the time … ?’ ’’

Of course they remember. It is a part of family lore. For the past 25 years, the Busbees have kept a newspaper article written about it on their refrigerator door. 

Brad and his wife, Cyndey, celebrated their silver wedding anniversary earlier this year. They met in 1995 when they both worked at The Rookery. 

They fell in love, got engaged and picked out their wedding rings at C.R. Rader Jewelers three days before Christmas in 1998. They married  Jan. 29 and traveled to Germany for their honeymoon.

Six months later, they were still very much the proverbial newlyweds as they pulled into the S&S on Saturday, July 3, to have lunch with Brad’s parents, Terry and Melody Busbee.

Cyndey was putting some lotion on her hands as they waited in the car. She noticed her husband’s hands were dry. Brad took off his wedding band and placed it on his lap as he rubbed some lotion on his hands. When his parents drove up, he unfastened his seat belt, opened the car door and got out, forgetting about the ring.

You can probably figure out what happened next. 

Rings bounce. They roll. They disappear from sight. And all of the above.

Brad was stunned. If life came equipped with a remote control and slow-motion button, he might have raced to catch up with it. But it all happened  in real time. 

They had parked in front of the infamous “Gum Tree,’’ where patrons have traditionally stuck their chewing gum and bubble gum in the shrubbery before entering the cafeteria. The platinum ring rolled down the slight incline on the driver’s side. The last sound it made was a little “dink” when it disappeared down a storm grate.

Cyndey and Brad peered into the dark, damp abyss. They could see a pool of water at the bottom.

Brad was so shaken a couple of women stopped to make sure he was OK. He was not.

“He was devastated,’’ Cyndey said. “We really couldn’t have afforded another ring, and we had specifically picked out these rings.’’

Unfortunately, there was not much that could be done. It was the Fourth of July weekend, and the offices at the Macon Water Authority would be closed on Monday. But Cyndey felt like they were rushing to beat the clock. Storms were forecast for Macon on Tuesday.

Despite being an eternal optimist, Cyndey was convinced the ring was a goner. Still, she was not about to give up. She remembered her wedding vows … with an addendum.

For better for worse, 

for richer for poorer,

… with this ring I thee WADE.

While Brad was at work on Tuesday, she met with a public works employee and explained her plight. They located the open end of the 12-foot high storm drain along Burrus Road. It was more than 100 yards north of
the cafeteria. 

Cyndey called her father-in-law. Could she count on him to serve as her bodyguard if she climbed in that storm drain to retrieve the ring?

When Terry Busbee arrived on the scene, his first reaction was: “I should have brought a
pistol.’’

“Those are scary places,’’ he said. “You never know what or who you might run into down there.’’

Before they entered the spooky tunnel, they used a styrofoam cup to mark the top of the storm grate.

“Terry Busbee is smart,’’ Cyndey said. “We were not going to walk through there without knowing which drain it had fallen through.’’

They splashed their way in ankle-deep pools before they found the bars of the overhead grate. Cyndey couldn’t believe her eyes. The ring was submerged in a few inches of rust-colored water.

“It was like a miracle,’’ she said. “The light was coming in from the storm drain. A bad storm was coming, and I knew if the water flowed through those drains it would be lost. But we looked up and then down, and there it was.’’

“What were the odds? Terry said. “There wouldn’t have been a good chance.’’

But there was … for a reason.

“People talk about being lucky,’’ Cyndey said. “I say you make your own luck. Terry and I had to walk through the storm drain. There’s the parable. Yeah, we were lucky we found it, but it took a lot to get lucky.’’

Cyndey clutched the ring all the way downtown to Rader Jewelers to have it cleaned before surprising Brad, who first thought she had bought him a new wedding band. He was touched by the display of love and devotion from his young bride.

“You look back on the things that keep you together,’’ he said. “It’s those kinds of acts that reinforce what our marriage was built on. For Cyndey and my dad to go into that crazy, dark and dangerous tunnel is a testament to that foundation. As I have gotten older, I am more appreciative of the lengths those we love go to and solidify the bond that we have. It means the world to me.’’

Brad works for Cadence Bank. Cyndey was recently named  chief of staff at Atrium Health Navicent, where she serves as senior vice president for communications, public affairs and community engagement.

 They have three children – Jesse (23), Merritt (20) and Louden (15). The Busbee kids have heard the ring story so many times they know the script by heart. They can point out the exact spot where it all happened in the S&S parking lot. (Their father rarely parks  anywhere
near it.)

The amazing story has been replayed over and over. Do their  children grow weary of  it?

“They laugh about it,’’ Cyndey said. “And I bet if I was looking away from them they would be repeating what I was saying … and then your dad stood up and his ring rolled right into the storm drain.”

A few months ago Cyndey read a book titled: “How to Say It to Seniors: Closing the Communications Gap With Our Elders.’’

She took it to heart, especially one part where an elderly father keeps repeating the same stories.

“Finally, the son says to his father: ‘I don’t know why you keep telling me that.’ And the dad says: ‘Because it’s a
good story.’ ’’

One day the Busbee grandchildren will get to hear the story, too. 

Ed Grisamore has been a journalist in Macon and Middle Georgia for more than 45 years. He received the 2024 John Holliman Lifetime Achievement Award from the Grady College of Journalism and Mass Communication at the University of Georgia. He was the recipient of the 2010 Will Rogers Humanitarian Award, presented by the National Society of Newspaper Columnists. Grisamore has won first-place awards from the Georgia Press Association in five categories and has written nine books.