Anne Spring Close was a philanthropist and adventurer — but to me, she was my friend

Dr. Daniel Knox is a lifelong friend of philanthropist Anne Springs Close, who passed away at age 95 on August 20, 2021. The Fort Mill resident was listed as one of Close’s “other children” in her obituary. This is his tribute to her.

In the early part of my life in the small town of Fort Mill, SC, before I could even talk, I knew this special lady that my family adored. She would open a small box of wooden horses of all shapes and sizes and spread them on the rug for me to play with.

My mom recently remembered that once I was old enough to sit up, she passed me up to this special lady astride a beautiful Arabian horse. He was a deep chestnut red with a thick mane and tail. She would ride me through the fields, woods and rolling hills of South Carolina, pointing out animals, birds, flowers, trees and even weeds. She even taught me some of my first words like “Bi-color lespedeza,” a long lost crop her father Col. Elliot White Springs planted for bobwhite quail. I would beg to ride with her and almost cry when it was time to go home.

This special lady was named Anne Springs Close, and her humble steed was simply named “Red.” I could have never dreamt that this innocent beginning would nurture a lifelong soul connection that few could ever imagine.

“Ms. Close,” as my dad insisted we called her, was different than her usual nickname “Baggs” which her family and close friends’ children often called her. He later told me we called her “Ms. Close” out of respect. Ms. Close and my late father, Howard Knox, who was the recreation director for Leroy Springs & Company for many years, were simply great friends.

Before it was the Anne Springs Close Greenway

I was blessed to have been born at a time when Ms. Close began chasing her passion and love for horses and nature on her family land that would one day become the Anne Springs Close Greenway. Our shared love for horses and nature would mold and shape an incredible bond that would span over four decades. To understand Ms. Close at her core was to know her heart, her soul and her spirit.

Ms. Close’s heart was as big as the mountains she climbed like Mount Kilimanjaro, Mount Washington and her beloved Sheep Mountain in Washington state.

Her heart loved all people, rich or poor, of any color, of any background. She believed that we were all put on this earth to help each other. She started a riding program for people with special needs on her beloved land. At a very young age, she exposed me to the genuine smiles from a mentally or physically challenged person riding a horse for the very first time.

Springmaid Mountain

She welcomed all people to her horse barn to enjoy her horses and the nature all around. She started a summer equestrian camp where kids could go to learn about life through horses. Her camp at Springmaid Mountain in Spruce Pine, NC, is going strong today. She was firmly attached to her heart’s goal of land preservation, especially the woods and fields she called home. She saved it with her heart for the animals, the birds, the flowers, the trees, the weeds, and especially the children. Her heart loved children. In all of these things, I saw Ms. Close’s heart.

Rafting, kayaking, biking, bungee jumping

The second pathway to Ms. Close is knowing her soul. Her soul lived in the world of adventure. She rafted, kayaked, hiked, biked, rode horses, bungee jumped and camped all over the world with her family and friends.

She loved climbing mountains the most. She took me on many horseback pack trips all over the country, from Wyoming’s Wind River Range to Montana’s Bob Marshall Wilderness to the San Juans of Colorado, but mostly to the North Cascades in Washington State’s Pasayten Wilderness to her favorite Sheep Mountain.

I was 14 years old, and she was 64 years old, on my first trip to the North Cascades. Ms. Close insisted and made me go on a long hike to the top of a very tall mountain. Once we were at the top, she said “Daniel, isn’t this wonderful?” Even through my resistant teenage eyes, I had to admit it was indeed spectacular and wonderful. “WON-derful” as Ms. Close would always say with an exuberant delivery. Ms. Close took care of me on that mountain top. It was there I was able to see her soul.

Nearly 30 years later, I was 43 and she was 93, when we took our final pack trip to the Lake Chelan-Sawtooth Wilderness area in Washington State in August 2019. We went on a different route because wildfires had ravaged the trail to her beloved Sheep Mountain.

On this trip, I rode a horse a few feet in front of her horse. Due to her nearly 90% blindness, I guided her through the miles of trails with encouraging words like, “Your horse is stepping onto a large flat rock,” or “There is branch that will brush your right shoulder.” She would say, “Does the trail look ok up ahead?” I would always answer, “It’s not too bad … we will be fine.” Even as we made our way over Horsehead Pass at 7,000 breathtaking feet, I told her, “It’s not too bad…we will be fine.”

At one point on the trail, I was quietly enjoying the spectacular views, and she said, “Daniel, keep talking!” I replied, “You’ve been trying to shut me up for 40 years, and now you want me to keep talking?” She chuckled and said, “You are my eyes.” We sat down that evening around a glowing, crackling campfire, swapping stories and tales among our small group.

Of all the stories, hers were the best

We enjoyed all the tales but especially the lifelong memories of Ms. Close. We were like a circle of children listening intently to this great adventurer. On this mountain top of grandeur at age 93 and nearly blind, Ms. Close’s soul was shown to me.

Ms. Close once told me on a midday autumn horseback ride on her beloved Greenway, “Daniel, one of my most favorite things in this world is being on a horse in the woods when the sunlight trickles down through the trees all around us.” This quote perfectly describes the third attribute in understanding Ms. Close, her spirit.

She made time for people. She made time for me.

Her spirit was exactly like that to so many people in her life. Her spirit, like the sunlight, was everywhere, but somehow she seemed to always have the time for the individual. She made time for people. She made time for me.

Ms. Close’s days were often filled with appointments, meetings and outings that usually involved her philanthropic spirit. She gave to so many who needed it. Her giving wasn’t limited to finances. Oftentimes it involved her love and concern for people. She may have been delivering Meals on Wheels or in a boardroom meeting.

Some days she just spent time on the Greenway, watching families enjoy nature. I saw her spirit especially when it involved her beloved Greenway. Most people would have developed this huge tract of land. Ms. Close and her family preserved it. She told me, “So you can bring your grandchildren here one day.”

Ms. Close’s heart lives in the people she affected and loved. Her soul lives in heaven with her Savior and the many loved ones who have made the journey before her. Her spirit lives in the woods and the wilds that she loved and is waiting to warmly greet us when we go to see her there.

We mourn you, Anne Springs Close. We celebrate you. We love you. And we will never forget you. Your legacy and your Greenway will be everlasting. So, saddle me a horse and I will come see you, one fine day.

With deepest love and respect,

Daniel Brian Knox (“Redlight”)

This story was originally published August 26, 2021 at 6:30 AM.