Tribute to a Texas Man - Sandie, Stephen
Early life … El Campo, Youngin in Jefferson
Dad was born on January 5, 1929, in Wewoka, Oklahoma. He would end up being the baby of the family for Rafe and Ethel Tucker.
Not long after Alfred was born the family moved to El Campo, and thus began dad’s life as a Texas man. There Rafe was a farmer and Ethel took on the nearly impossible task of keeping her brood on the “straight and narrow.” The family enjoyed the fellowship of the local church family and participated in the local church school. Dad was eight when Rafe died. He has shared that it was a crushing blow to him.
Rafe’s brother Joe Tucker stepped in to help the family get property in the colony outside Jefferson, as the church and school in El Campo were closing down. Dad resumed his schooling there and stayed until school options ran out as Jefferson was a junior academy at that point. He joined his older sister Lillian on a trek to Colorado and Campion Academy. Dad would continue at Campion through graduation though he tells in his writings of hitchhiking trips back to Jefferson … some quite memorable.
Lillian had played a big role in raising dad as Ethel – or Sister Tucker – as she was now known – was often busy working to support the family. That was likely no small task for Lillian as dad and his cousin Raymon Morgan would have proved a handful for just about any one given that task. Many tales of watermelon temptations abound but one great story involved some well needed arsonist action and a red faced Sister Tucker. As dad tells the story he wasn’t fully involved with this one, just a cheerleader. It seems the brethren at the school gave far more attention to the girls' outhouse than the boys. Sister Tucker was heard by Raymon observing that “somebody out to burn that old thing down.” With the help of Glendon Sibley, he charged a gallon of kerosine to Sister Tucker’s account and accomplished the task. The school investigators soon found the arsonists who said “we simply did what Mrs. Tucker told us to do” which was a slight stretch. As dad tells the story, they knew that anything they did that caused Sister Tucker pain would not set well with the whole colony so the matter was quickly dropped. Dad says Mamma was a bit embarrassed by the whole episode but he never heard her say she was sorry it happened!
Such was the life of dad’s childhood in Jefferson. Full of adventure. Full of fun.
College, military and marriage
Like many graduates of Campion Academy, dad headed to Union College in Lincoln, Nebraska. The call of Texas remained strong though and after his first year he took a break from school, including a trip home to Jefferson.
During this time dad went to Minnesota and joined Grandma Ethel and his brother Harlen’s family, working at a nursery until after Christmas. At that point he came back to Jefferson, and crashed in to live with the newlyweds Warren and Lou while he worked in several broom factories. He must have been obsessive about the quality of the work he did, for throughout our lives rarely did we buy or even walk by a broom without dad looking at it and rendering judgment on how well it was made. How many women like mom had to get their husband’s approval of a broom before she could buy it? Thank you Jefferson broom plant owners!
When dad did return to college, it was at Southwestern Junior College in Keene Texas. He spent a year there before returning to Union College, the destination of many after completing the first two years of college in Keene. Dad’s sales skills did put him at a bit of a risk for continuing at Union as his “success” as a summer colporter left him way short of enough money. He had scrimped the best he could, even driving a Model A with no brakes, but alas his sales skills apparently were not supreme. Sister Lillian and Brother-in-Law Buster came through with a loan, the forgiveness of which later came as a college graduation gift, and dad set his sights on a career outside of sales.
While we don’t know tons about dad’s life at Union College, he always had fond memories of it and was a proud alum. He was excited when his granddaughter attended there noting she was fourth generation … His uncle Joe, him, his daughter-in-law Joelyn, and Katie (later Kristi too). We do know a couple of things from his keepsakes – A lincoln city softball league championship trophy, and a comment by a female classmate of Alfred’s to Al’s son Stephen at a Union College reunion many years later … She said, “It wasn’t our fault that he got out of here single.” Pop pop.
Dad was drafted into the US Army after college and after basic training and a couple of stops at bases in the US, he fittingly spent most of his military time in Texas at Fort Sam Houston. On a family heritage tour celebrating his 50 years of marriage to Shirley, he proudly showed the family where he lived, worked and served.
Speaking of Shirley, Uncle Joe recruited Dad to Tennessee after the army. Dad had graduated with a Business Degree at Union College and now put that to work for Madison College. Shirley was not a Texan (yet) but still caught dad’s eye. Courtship and wedding bells followed. They celebrated 65 years of marriage last June. Before long, the family added Sandie, then Stephen. One might have thought roots were being put down given that he’d been there seven years, but not so fast. A call to Texas was in the works.
Return to San Marcos
That destination was San Marcos and what was then called Hays County Memorial Hospital and run by the Adventist Church. He was “home” again in Texas and the next seven years would be magical for the family. For starters, we added our sister Pam not too long after arriving.
For dad, San Marcos was the first of many career stops in Adventist healthcare. He came to San Marcos as an accountant and left as the administrator. As young children, we weren’t able to understand much of his career life, but we could see that he was a loved man by those he worked with. One story we learned later in life tells so much about him. Our family moved our Christmas from Christmas morning to Christmas Eve so that dad as the administrator could take the shift from some line worker at the hospital each year so that person could have Christmas with their family. Need to understand leadership? Just ponder how easy it must have been to want to work for him. That speaks volumes.
San Marcos wasn’t all about work though. Church life and friendships were very important. That included building a church and church school together, leading in many church and school board roles, and almost nonstop fellowship. Rarely a day passed where we didn’t interact with someone and Sabbaths were a high day, from church in the morning, to afternoon outings, and Saturday night rounds of Skunk.
Dad’s love of the outdoors came to life for us in San Marcos too. We recall many camping trips with church friends – Bastrop State Park being one of the big destinations. There were others into the Texas foothills in our not so waterproof canvas tent and cots. A camping spot of great favor was Double Lake State Park. This also often meant a double header at the Astrodome on Sunday, dad loved the bargains and a two for one baseball game was no exception. Dad had passed his love for sports down to all of us, particularly his love for Baseball. He grew up a Cardinals fan in the era of names like Musial, Mize, Gibson, Slaughter, Gibson, and Hornsby but he was a fan really of baseball which meant any team or any game. Our first game was July 30, 1967, a doubleheader in the Astrodome featuring the Astros against the Mets. We can’t help but wonder if pop pop worked a little magic with St Peter this past fall when the ‘stros not only won the series but got a no no too. Some kind of favors must have gone on up there.
One last note before we move to the Away years, we kids learned one simple rule about speed limits during those years. The closer we got to Jefferson and Grandma’s house, the faster he drove. Had he been born a different creature, no doubt it would have been a racing homing pigeon.
The San Marcos years were magical growing up years. So many great memories of a wonderful Dad fill our hearts. But as we were about to learn as kids, our dad only had about seven years in him in any location until his exploring self had to get off and going. In the video you’ll see a picture of a road map of the USA showing all the roads he traveled across this great land. Our next one was going to take all of us and a zooful of animals on a circuitous route to Oregon.
The away years / The trips home
Moving to the Pacific Northwest was a great match for dad’s outdoors spirit. We camped, we hiked, we embraced most everything the outdoors life offered there. It's hard to remember a summer Sabbath that didn’t involve a hike somewhere.
Like with all our landing spots, we fit in quickly with church and school life and built friendships there and in the neighborhood.
The Oregon years weren’t all rosy for dad though. Again, as kids you perceive what you don’t yet understand. What we did see was our dad relating to his career in a whole different way. Instead of the leader and seeming to have a passion, we saw someone whose spirit was a bit broken in his less than leadership roles. He seemed to be going to a job now, instead of to a passion. Maybe we got more “dad” as a result, but even as kids, it was hard to watch.
While where dad would venture us off to each weekend was not known, where we would vacation was never in doubt. Sometimes there would be a stop for family in California on the way, but often it was the fastest new route we hadn’t traveled yet to Jefferson that we took. By the time we hit the Texas border, we must have been going 95. He was heading home.
Seven years after heading to Oregon, we were on the move again … this time not far but up to Walla Walla, Washington.
Dad seemed to be happy at work again and truly loved the college environment. He enjoyed the students that worked for him, the friends we brought home, the new mountains to explore.
The seven Walla Walla years were good years but they were big transition years as all of us kiddos left home during that time. Moving our relationship to distance and adult ones was hard for us and hard for him. He was an engaged dad and such a central person to all of our lives.
Mom and dad wrapped up their careers with dad back in healthcare at Monument Valley Hospital within the Navajo tribal lands in Southern Utah. Those were seven good years for them with lots of new lands to explore, grandkids to now enjoy, church life, and new found friendships.
One of our favorite stories about dad in Monument Valley is how he and the pastor wanted to impress upon the church members the importance of offerings as a way to pay the bills. In that endeavor, dad had shut the power off to the church one Sabbath. When members began to arrive he was noticing a total lack of attention to their ploy. Finally Key Litsui, one of the Navajo church members came up, put his arm around dad and said, “Al, we appreciate your efforts but you’ve got to understand, many of your church members don’t have electricity in their homes either.” Dad always did his full belly laugh whenever telling that story on himself.
Mom and Dad put a lot of miles on their cars during the Utah days. Most every trip whether at Thanksgiving or just anytime, had a Texas stop in them. Dad enjoyed living in Utah, but he wasn’t home. That would happen next.
Return to Retire
While there was talk of various retirement destinations, I don’t think in the minds of us kids there was any doubt that mom and dad would live anywhere other than Jefferson.
It was a perfect place for them. We don’t need to share with you here today how much dad and mom dove into being part of their Jefferson world. They loved being with dad’s siblings Warren and Lou, and Lillian, who was now living back at “Mama’s place.” But dad loved being back as part of the church community too, volunteering for the school, and helping mom in her ministry. If you don’t believe that, just note that this was the ONLY life stop that exceeded seven years … this was home.
We enjoyed a chance to connect back to our family roots here too. Grandkids spending time here, Thanksgiving celebrations back where they belong. Dad left all of us with a little bit of a feeling of “coming home” when we come to Jefferson.
In Jefferson, dad was home where he wanted to be. We got the full sense of his priorities as we were planning a 50th Wedding Anniversary family Cruise to Alaska for mom and dad. But nope. Dad had no interest in cruising to Alaska. Instead, he wanted a heritage trip to Central Texas … to Bastrop State Park, to Aquarena Springs and San Marcos, to Johnson’s Ranch. Why would one float around Alaska when you could float the San Marcos River “deep in the heart of Texas?” That was our Texas man.
Whisked away to Loma Linda for Health Care
Dad’s health caused mom and dad to have a rather abrupt end to life in Jefferson and a move to Loma Linda. It was abrupt for all of us. We weren’t ready to have him be sick, to see dementia steal precious years from his life.
Ironically and fittingly dad’s time in Loma Linda lasted around seven years. On many occasions while he was still able to communicate he would turn and look to mom and say, “Let’s go home.” No one doubted where he meant.
Cousin Tanya Tucker’s song seems unnecessary for a life lived as well as dad’s but there’s no doubt dad would sing along, “when I die may not go to heaven, I don’t know if they let cowboys in. If they don’t, just let me go to Texas, for Texas is as close as I’ve been.
Dad, if you’re not heading to heaven, we’ve all got problems. But just in case, welcome home to Texas.
Homily on Ecclesiastes 3 - A Season for Everything
We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of Alfred Tucker, a beloved father, husband, and friend. As we gather to pay our respects to Alfred, we turn to the words of Ecclesiastes 3, which reminds us that there is a time for everything under heaven.
Read the verses here …
Alfred lived a full and meaningful life, and we can see the seasons of his life reflected in the words of Ecclesiastes. There was a time for everything in Alfred's life. There was a time for him to be born and a time for him to die, a time for him to laugh and a time for him to cry, a time for him to work and a time for him to rest.
While we can see each piece of this text reflected in Alfred’s life, one of the most prevelate can be found in verse 7: a time to be silent and a time to speak.
Many would describe Alfred as quiet, reserved, and shy – A man with not much to say. But those who knew him, knew that it was not that he did not have opinions or did not know what to say. It was that instead he was careful with what he said. Not speaking to just make noise. Choosing what he said carefully. And because of that when he did say something – you knew it he meant it. You knew he had carefully chosen his word– whether it be advice or just a really good joke – you knew it wasn’t just noise.
Instead feeding into the noise of the world, he prioritized quiet and learning from the world around him through hiking, traveling, and reading. He preferred the thoughtful, methodical communication of written word leaving a legacy of writings that will be cherished long after he is gone.
In a world often filled with noise – from cable news to social media to podcasts to talk radio– we are constantly being bombarded. So much that we too often feel the need to yell our opinions as loud as possible - stating every thought or feeling we have about everything going on. We speak before we think. We don’t listen. We don’t try to learn. We remain ignorant. We hurt others.
As we reflect on Alfred’s life, let us take a moment to be silent – listen to the world around us. Because God didn’t come to Elijah in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire. He came in the still small voice.
As we gather to remember Alfred, we are reminded that our time on this earth is short. We must make the most of every moment we have, just as Alfred did. We must work hard, love deeply, give generously, and cherish every moment we have with the ones we love.
In closing, let us turn to the final words of Ecclesiastes 3, which read, "I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. Alfred's life was a testament to the enduring power of God's love, and we can take comfort in knowing that he now rests in the arms of his Creator.
Rest in peace, Alfred Tucker. You lived a good life, and your legacy will endure forever.