Livin' and dyin' in three quarter time

Angels We Have Heard on High

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In everything give thanks

"In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus to you."

1 Thessalonians 5:18

I am thankful:

• For my fantastic husband who always knew just the right moment to say, "Hank, wanna play outside?"
• For my sister, with whom I can communicate nigh onto telepathically
• For Uncle Mark and Aunt Debbie who made Hank's day by running outside with him; I think he loves them as much as I do
• For a crazy hot room full of my Grandma, my daddy, my brothers, my sister, my aunts, uncles, cousins
• For O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing
• For a memorial service that was funny and song-filled and perfect, which my Grandma (and everyone else) loved and which my Grandpa would have loved
• For memories of ice cream cones under the table
• For the undeniable and perfect image of the reunion between my God, my Grandpa and my Mom
• For white pith helmets
• For my sweet little boy who provided running commentary during said amazing memorial service
• For this picture:

Priceless moments from the memorial service:

Pastor: We are thankful for the presence of-

Hank (hopefully): PRESENTS??

* * * * *

Pastor: With praise and thanksgiving...

Hank (stage whisper): Thanksgiving turkeys, Mama!

* * * * *

Pastor: We know that Hank is real...

Hank (slightly indignant): Hank is real!

 

Grandpa, by Uncle Steve

Thoughts on Pop
Sent: Sat 11/07/09 4:04 PM

Here are a few thoughts that popped out (ooh, unintended pun!--sorry, I meant "jumped out"!) when I was thinking about Pop today and happened to have a keyboard in my lap. It WAS going to be just a few sentences, but--as usual--I got carried away. Anyway, it's what came to mind, from a warehouse of memories, jogged by my email to Andrew and Carrie a few nights ago. As with many (or most) memories, some of it's probably a little off, and some of it's dead wrong, but all of it was in my head:

From 1945 on, Mom was the most important thing in the world to Pop. He would do anything for her. So it's no surprise that despite 93 years--the last 20 or so with Parkinson's--he made it through all but the last two hours of their 64th wedding anniversary. And then he died.


When Pop was born the world land speed and air speed records were about the same--not yet 130 mph. The US had not yet entered WWI. That very day Babe Ruth pitched for the Boston Braves in the World Series- (before he went to the Yankees--even before he went to the Red Sox). Louis Brandeis had just been appointed the first Jewish Supreme Court justice. The Spanish flu was still a year or so away--Pop was still nursing when it hit, and always assumed that was why he never, ever got sick.


Born in Knoxville, he spent early childhood in coal camps in Eastern Kentucky and East Tennessee. The family moved to Lake Worth when the Depression hit the Cumberlands five or six years before it hit Wall Street. So he had middle childhood in South Florida, then moved back to Cookeville where he finished high school. The family moved to the Homesteads when a spot opened up, and Pop fell in love with farming and kept right at it until the war. Joined the Navy. Fit and smart, they offered him flight school, but he had to wait for an opening. So he went to bombing school, then navigation school, then taught at navigation school until flight school finally had an opening. Flew the PBY Gooney Bird, twin-engine patrol-bomber seaplane, then the PB4Y--the Navy's patrol-bomber version of the B-24. Never saw combat. His offspring are grateful.


Pop had met Mom on the Homesteads. They romanced by v-mail between wherever each happened to be stationed at the time. So when Pop was stationed in Kansas (a Navy base in Kansas??), Mom got a furlough, caught a train,and the 2nd lieutenant and the tech sergeant got married, maybe 12 weeks after V-J Day. Pop loved kids, so it's no surprise that they had a few. I think he appreciated their curiosity and honesty. He never quite figured out how to deal with them when they traded curiosity for certainty, and honesty for not-so-honest, during the teenage years. But he sure taught us to think. He had an unerring eye for the heart of the matter, whatever the matter was. In the blink of an eye he could strip off layers of obfuscation or chicanery to reach the essence of any issue.


Until the Parkinson's starting wearing him down in tiny bits, Pop could outwalk anyone. And simultaneously outtalk them--except when he was singing. Apparently the 11th commandment was that if you're an Elmore, you sing. Period. I can't recall many family get-togethers where there wasn't singing, and I can't recall Pop's not filling any silence with singing. If you'd put him on Hymnal Jeopardy, he would've run the board.


Pop kept his faith and his rationality. How he balanced the both is a mystery to me still. He accepted that he would never learn it all, even though he never stopped trying. He was forever curious.


We don't do "sad" terribly well in my family. It's especially hard to feel sorrow about a life like Pop's. The life may have ended but the stories will go on. Mark had lunch with Mom at Uplands today, and said that lots of folks were coming by the table to offer their condolences. The one Mom liked best was the lady who came up and said, "I'm so happy for you." Susceptible of many meanings, I suppose, but I can see Mom (and Pop) beaming at that.


Oh, and as for the subject line, "Nature's Balance," Pop died at almost exactly the time my plane touched down in Tampa. Sitting beside me was a 27-year-old woman who was on the last nervous leg of her three-day, four-country, five-airline journey from Cuba. She's not going back. It's the first day of her new life. Death and rebirth. Pop absolutely would've loved it.

Steve

Hank Elmore

Henry Nunn Elmore died on Nov. 6, 2009 (his 64^th wedding anniversary), at Uplands Retirement Village in Pleasant Hill, Tennessee. Hank was born in 1916 in Knoxville. He once said, “I was a product of The Depression, and my aim in life was to take care of me and mine, and to help those less fortunate.” In this goal he was successful.  

Hank served in the U. S. Navy Air Corps during World War II, as pilot, navigator, and bombardier.

Hank lived in Oak Ridge for 50 years, working at all three plants at various times, and volunteered at the Red Cross teaching CPR. A singer and lover of hymns, Hank was a member of Trinity United Methodist Church. In his retirement he walked all over Oak Ridge wearing his white pith helmet; later in Pleasant Hill Village, he pushed his walker up hill and down, singing hymns for all to hear.

Hank is preceded in death by his parents, Thomas Albert Elmore and Lizzie Nunn Elmore; siblings Albert Jr., Walter, and Eva Elmore; and daughter Suzy Elmore Dodd. He is survived by his wife of 64 years, Shirley Hassler Elmore, and their descendents: children and spouses Jane and Tom Wilson, Steve Elmore and Sue Geniesse, Mark and Deb Elmore; grandchildren Mike, Erin, Amy, Levi, April, Ethan, Hannah, Andrew, Carrie; great-grandchildren Wyatt, Jake, Nathan, Adam, Hank, Emily. Hank is also survived by his sister and brother-in-law Jeanne and Hunter Elrod.

As Hank had requested, his body was donated to University of Tennessee Medical School.

A memorial service will be held on Saturday, Nov. 14, at 2:00 p.m. (CST) at Pleasant Hill Community Church. In lieu of flowers, donations may be sent to Uplands Retirement Village, P.O. Box 168, Pleasant Hill, TN 38578.

Grandpa Hank: 1916-2009

Details to follow, but my Grandpa Hank died this Friday at 93 years of age, on his 64th wedding anniversary. Little Hank and Amy and I are camped out in Crossville right now helping Grandma, the aunts and uncles with details.