Her casket rested below center stage at the Checotah Performing Arts Center, open for friends, fans, and family to view her precious body before her life’s celebration began. No one lingered long.

That wasn’t Selby lying there beneath the gold necklaces on her throat and chest, the silver chains draped over her hands and across her stomach. I visualized Soul Selby hovering above, waiting to see if this farewell could truly capture her life.

She would have loved the casket’s huge bouquet of sunflowers, hydrangeas, chrysanthemums, roses and lilies, and the colorful one stage left above her bass guitar supported against a narrow gold ladder. She would have smiled at the giant purple paper mache musical note balancing it stage right.

A 14-minute video showing Selby smiling alongside people of many races and many pursuits played before the 11 a..m. start time of the Celebration of Life Service held in her honor, and stopped with a slide that showed an intent Selby playing her bass guitar in front of a backdrop that said Dusk to Dawn— the blues festival she and her husband D.C. Minner founded In 1991. Her eyes were almost closed, giving the impression she was mourning herself. The slide remained during the entire service.

The service began with the Reverend Sanford Nero reciting the 23rd Psalm as he led Selby’s family to the first five rows in the auditorium. Then Jackie Tointigh played a solemn guitar solo poignant enough to bring tears.

Two male singers not listed in the day’s program performed touching songs—the first a cappella but the second accompanied by the band on stage.

The first sang, “You gotta cry, but you don’t gotta worry. See what the Lord done, done.”

The second sang, “ I said to the Lord, please Lord, let her be. Let her be.”

Judging by the crowd’s reaction, these men were clearly respected blues artists who probably arrived unexpectedly from afar to pay tribute to one of their own.

A gracious lady, La-Donna Rhoes with the Mcintosh County Democrat, filled in for Rentiesville Mayor Mildred Burkhalter and read an official declaration of Selby Minner Day, after which The Ya Yas sang “Amazing Grace,” starting and ending it with only two words repeated over and over, “Praise God.”

The Ya Yas are six women who Selby helped in more ways than just teaching them to sing together. Later in the service, when people were sharing their Selby experiences, one of the Ya Yas said, “She ushered many of us out of fear and into the beautiful world of music. She made each of us feel special.”

Selby’s brother-inlaw, the Reverend Robert Stuhlmann—husband to her ’sister Jena Guenther of Burlington, Vermont—delivered a touching eulogy, telling Selby in conclusion, “Thanks for being alive. Thanks for being you.”

Jena Guenther told about sharing a bedroom with her older sister Selby, remembering how Selby, as a fresh-man, won their high school’s talent show.

“I’m so grateful we had her and maybe caught some of her contagious positivity, which radiated from my best friend forever.”

Granddaughter Erica Franklin said Selby always told her, “There’s no such thing as ‘you can’t.’ You’ve got to get this, girlfriend.” She recalled that whenever she traveled, Selby had some connection for her to look up—no matter in the U.S. or internationally.

Granddaughter Miicaela Minner said, “She always pumped me up, and she never let me down.” She recalled that whenever they talked by phone, Selby never wanted to hang up, and she was always full of good advice.

Sister Hilary Conley said, “She taught me how to write, how to draw a little bit. She taught me how to enjoy life. Mostly she was my big sister.

“We talked on the phone almost every night for 20 to 30 years, just chopping it up. She talked about music. She talked about you all along. She loved it here and she loved you.”

Hilary said, “It breaks my heart that she is gone. I’m sure she fought really hard to live. I’m sure she was in total shock with what was happening to her. I know, in my soul, she fought to live.”

Hers was the first reference in this service to Selby’s tragic death at the hands of their brother, Louis Guenther, an alleged sufferer of mental illness. “I loved my brother and haven’t spoken to him in many, many years. Can I love him all the same? I know that he needs our love and our compassion and our prayers, desperately.”

Praise for Selby continued.

Grandson Jason Chandler said, “She got the best out of everyone, even when they didn’t know they had it in them.”

After family members spoke, those in the audience lined up for the onstage microphone.

Tony Sider’s story stunned the room.

“I was in prison, and Selby and D.C. came to play,” Tony recalled. “I said, ‘Man, I could do that ‘cause I like music and drawing and singing.’ So he started drumming, got out of prison, and played with a band that went to Rentiesville. He saw a picture of D.C. on the wall and said, “They came to my prison.

“Playing the drums and singing was keeping me out of drinking and drugs and I’d been clean for four years, when a guy told me, ‘My grandmother would love you to play in her blues festival,’ and I said, ‘Who’s your grandmother?’” At his first festival performance, he also worked security.

“And Selby told me how. She told my friend, ‘The reason why I like Tony to drum for me, ‘cause he’s clean. He don’t drink or nothing. He don’t give me no problem.’ And when I heard this, it helped me in my life. I’m gonna miss Selby, and I’m gonna keep on doing what I’m doing clean, and I’m gonna keep going.”

After many more accolades for Selby, the band of musicians who all had played at Selby’s Down Home Blues Club 4 p.m. Sunday blues jam presented a touching rendition of “Key to the Highway.”

The drummer sang the lyrics, starting with “I got the key to the highway. Billed out and bound to go. Gonna leave here running. Walking is much too slow.”

A tearful moment came when both of Selby’s sisters arose and swayed to the music. After every verse, the band’s harmonica player played the melody before the drummer resumed singing.

“So give me one more kiss, darling, just before I go,” the drummer sang, “‘Cause when I leave this time, I won’t be back no more.”

All in all, Soul Selby must have felt that final kiss from the hundreds who flocked to celebrate her life with a very remarkable, two-anda- half hour service of love, music, and memory. Soul Selby must know that she’ll be terribly missed and never forgotten.