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We will not see men like this again

My friend Johnny and his siblings buried their daddy the other day. For 87 years, that kind and gentle man had spread love and good deeds throughout the southern soil of his raising. It was a loss felt heavily by a community that had benefited greatly from his largesse.

A man’s life is best revealed by the quantity and quality of those who gather to mourn his passing. Mr. Thomas was a product of his generation, the type of man once common among his kind, now growing increasingly and sadly uncommon.

He lived by the sweat of his brow, the honor of his word and, like many rural Southerners, the resources of the land.

He was in the lumber business where he extended credit to those who requested it and a helping hand to those who needed it. He judged a man by his heart and principles, not by his status and accomplishments in life.

As I watched the diversity of the masses that filed by his coffin, carved from pecan wood, to pay respects and share a story with the fine children he had fathered, I knew the man’s life had been full. It was evident that he had not lived merely for himself but to be of service to others.

There is no greater calling in life than that.

I thought of the time that my daddy, as they say in the country, had “lay a corpse.” For two days, hundreds of people solemnly filed past to drop tears and kind words.

From the mouths of moonshiners clad in overalls to millionaires attired in tailored, custom-made suits came stories that spoke strongly of a principled man who never hesitated to give away the last dollar in his pocket.

Strangers quickly became friends and friends quickly became devoted to the man who looked past skin color or religion to see the heart and integrity of each individual. He proudly served God, family, country and his fellow man.

There will be no monuments erected to men like my daddy and Mr. Thomas. Their names will not be written in any history books for stellar accomplishments and within the next few decades, their names will rarely if ever be mentioned by even the descendants that sprang from their loins.

But we can rest assured that many lives were touched by these men and others like them, who are anonymous to most; these salt-of-the-earth men who unwaveringly chose others over themselves.

Men, whose word was an unbreakable bond and honor was clutched tightly and proudly to their hearts. If they said it, they meant it. If they promised it, they did it. Oh, how I hate to see men like that go.

It’s not just these men who are dying away but a way of life is dying with them. These were the kind of men who would give a full day of their time to help out a neighbor and took seriously the obligation to look after the widows of others.

This kind of man does not understand greed. He understands only generosity and giving all it takes for others.

I hate to say goodbye to men like my daddy and Mr. Thomas. But just as much, I hate to say goodbye to their way of life.

[Ronda Rich is the author of “What Southern Women Know (That Every Woman Should)” and “My Life In The Pits.” She lives in Gainesville, Ga. E-mail her at southswomen@bellsouth.net.]