Jerry and Linda Butler

"Tribute To My Brother"

Many years have gone by and my heart has ached with sweet and bittersweet memories of James Oscar Tucker. As a small child I recall how Oscar did so many thoughtful things for me and for Mama. He always wanted to be in uniform. Papa talked to him and said he could make his own choice. We lived on a farm and Oscar hated it. We lived in a large house on a hill called "The Rogers Hill" named for the man who owned the farm. . I was very small at this time and cannot remember much about Papa. Some things, are crystal clear and then there are gaps in my mind. But Oscar did in fact join the service when he was 18 years old. Papa did write him a lovely card for his 21st birthday wishing him well. We still have the card till this day - so beautiful - written with a lead pencil and we can still read the words of how proud he was of his young son.

Soon after Oscar's 21st birthday, Papa got real sick and died. I faintly remember how Papa looked in the casket of black and gold print. Someone held me up to look at Papa. Mama was unable to attend the funeral because of ill health. But Mama reminded us over and over of Papa's love for his family.

When Oscar would come home from the army he always smelled so good and I loved to see him comb his dark brown hair. He had pretty hair brushes and his uniforms looked so nice. He would stay for thirty days and go back to camp. We always cried when he left. He sent a check to Mama every month to help buy groceries and cough medicine Mama had to take for TB of the lungs. He never forgot Christmas and Easter.

Later on he wrote us a letter saying he had met the girl of his dreams and was madly in love.I was jealous of course.I didn't realize I was gaining a real sister when he brought his new bride to Tennessee . We all fell in love with her. Then the trips started. I got to go see them and Mama died when I was 13 years old. Oscar came but was too late for the funeral service. It was after dark when he got there and he held me in his arms till I cried my heart out. Next day he carried me home to Kentucky. Dodie was barely walking and Martha was 3 weeks old. He kissed Stein and babies tenderly. Off and on I would go by train or Oscar and Stein would come for me and I helped with the children. He was so happy when he got on the police force, made good money and gave his family the best of everything. The house was so pretty and he loved to show off playing piano. He loved to have company and show off his skill. I was there when Jimmy was born. Oh, how proud he was of his only son. Then I was there when Jo Ann was born. The babies were coming too close together and he was under much stress and living costs went high, wide and handsome. But he was still so good to go out in all kinds of weather.

How I loved the children. I would play with them and they would all try to sit in my lap at the same time. We had pretty clothes and nice food. In 1934 when I came back to Tennessee he was beginning to show sign of depression, but always told me as long as there was a crumb of food in his home I was welcome to it. Stein was so sweet. She would buy for me and go without herself in lean times.

Then there is a gap in my memory. Oscar had a bad wreck of some kind and was almost killed and was laid of the police force. He got better and worked at some other kind of job. Stein wrote me often that Oscar was having terrible headaches. They were never sure what caused them. He had to have his beautiful teeth pulled and his pride was hurt. Then we got word he was at the point of death and we couldn't go to Kentucky due to depression times. No money to buy tickets. But when we goword he had died, Grace, my sister went to Kentucky and brought Dodie" and Martha back to Tennessee for a few months. Then I carried them back to Kentucky in December
1935. We stayed with Mr.and Mrs. Dorsett and little Richard was very small.

It hurt me do deeply when Oscar died, part of my heart was buied with him. He had faith and believed in God always but had drifted away due to social.position but came back to his early God before he died because Mrs. Dorsett told me, he confessed to her how truly sorry he had drifted, but thank God in His great mercy, though we all leave Him some time, He never leaves us. So one day' I will see my brother and again I will tell him face to face how deeply I always loved him and love him still. He. made my young life so much brighter and watched over me like a mother-hen with .one. chick. He had his faults, yes, don't we all? Through all these long years, Dodie, Martha, Jo Ann and Jimmy have lived close to my heart. It would take years to write all I feel and have felt. It is time his lovely children knew they had a wonderful father. No money for grave stone due to large hospital bills. But no matter - he has a heavenly home,no more pride, sin, tears or sorrow.

Sadly missed by sister Lydia Mae Tucker Spence

"Careworn Hands"
Hands that are scarred and toil worn from years of hard work.
Deep blue eyes grown dim from shedding so many tears for others.
Shoulders that are stooped from carrying the load of other's problems.
Hands that have reached out for years and years to those too small to
care for themselves and for old people "who were crippled and
could not care for themselves.
A heart lonely with memories sweet and bitter sweet,
Who will one day hear the words, Welcome home my good and
faithful servant for work well done.
Where every tear that has been shed, will be turned into jewels
in heaven that will shine throughout eternity.

A tribute to my sister, Grace Strickland

For her love.

Lydia Spence

"Smiling Through"

Many pages of life have been .torn away,
Sin~e you left us that June. day,
Som~ were written in sorrow and" pain,
Others were like the gentle rain,.
'Tis so good to remember your smile,
Your courage and faith all the while.,
In the lonely dark hours of the night,
As I try to pra~ for a guiding light,
I think of you as you taught me how,
With your sweet hand upon my brow,
My thoughts wander back through the years,
As you' would gently dry my tears,
How we would walk 'ore wooded vale,
And gather wild flowers from the dale,
Your hair of lovely dark brown, .
You wore a smile, never a frown,
Even when your body was wracked with pain,
You managed to smile and not co~plain,
When the Angel of Death came ~o take you away,
Life has not been the same since that day,
I know when you entered Heaven's Door,
Your tread so lightly to suffer no more,
I hope ~hen I have walked life's last mile,
I will be able to meet you with a smile,
Maybe you will say in your sweet voice,
I am so glad you made the right choice,
Till then dear Mother I'll remember you,
I hope to travel on, just Smiling Through.
Jan~ary 16, 1949
Written in Memory of Mama who died in June 1932.
Lydia M. Spence

Source: Johnnie R. Tucker