Leslie Hudson was my father in law and one of the nicest men I have ever known. The love of his life was his beloved wife, Mildred McCurry, to whom he was married for over 60 years. His passing was a blow to all of us but none as much as her. She followed him just a year after he passed away.
He grew up in the tiny town of Whitwell, Tennessee, just over the mountain, west of Chattanooga. Of course, everybody in Whitwell knew everybody else - and they still do. It hasn't changed much since then. His brother, Gettis owned an airfield in Whitwell - the first thing you saw when you came over the mountain into Whitwell. It looked more like a football field, since it was 100% grass. But, Gettis flew his tiny experimental airplanes from that field.
Whitwell had one main road and when it was built around the town (they do so much of that these days, never considering what it does to the businesses left behind in 'downtown') the town pretty much died, never to be the same again.
His jobs always seemed to have something to do with money. He worked for Johnson Tire Company, a company that everyone knew of because in those days, if you needed tires, that was where you got them. After they closed, he went to work as the loan officer for Hamilton National Bank. He was there the day the "Federales" arrived unannounced and took over operation of the bank. It was forced into bankruptcy, overseen by the government and "Pop", as we all called him, and emerged as a branch of First Tennessee National Bank.
"Pop" was also the superintendent of Hamilton County Schools during the turmoil of integration. He received a 'thank you' letter from President John Kennedy for being in charge of the only school system in the country up to that time to integrate with absolutely no problems of any kind. Pop was just that kind of person. Everything he did was done with grace, kindness and an unfaltering guiding hand. He was truly loved by many. One of his nieces thought of him as her own dad. I came to think of him as mine, too.
I was home the day I got the call from Mom that he needed to go to the hospital. I rushed to their house and took him to the hospital, where he died several days later of pneumonia. He was such an unselfish man that he insisted that the doctors take him off all life support so that he could die. I think he was tired. He was 84 years old and had lived the last 30 years or so with just one kidney and the last 5 with prostate cancer.
I have a 'story' to tell about Pop. His only child, my husband, John, and I are antique dealers. We used to go on calls when people had estates to sell. We got such a call from a girl whose family was from Whitwell. We arrived at this statuesque, brick home with great expectations. Sadly, she kept most of the beautiful antiques in that house, but one thing she was willing to let go were the Valentines she found in an old trunk in the attic. We were thrilled to get them, since old Valentines are very collectible. I took them home and began going through them. Most were the old lace Valentines that we don't see today. I was intrigued by some of them because they were still in their envelopes. When I began to open them, I realized that her grandmother must have been sick on the day they exchanged Valentines in school that year because all of these Valentines were from her to her classmates. Imagine my delight and shock when I found one addressed to Leslie Hudson and inside, her name. Of course, that was one that was never sold and we still have it after we finally found it hidden away in a book at Mom's house after she passed away. I guess she couldn't throw it away but she didn't have to have it in her face every day - after all, she married him, not the young girl who gave it to him. I guess jealousy dies hard, even when you are in your 70's. At least she kept it - after we delivered that Valentine 60 years late. I suppose we should have delivered the others, but that never crossed our minds. Don't know how we would have found all those little boys and girls 60 years later. In retrospect, 20 years after we found them, I'm sort of sorry we didn't at least try.
Pop was just Pop. He never got angry or upset. But, he did get a little excited (although he barely showed it) when I delivered a computer to Mom (she had said she wanted one). So, we got them one and an internet connection. To my knowledge, she, a brilliant woman, never touched it. But oh boy did he!! He loved to email his friends. I'm not sure what else he did with it, but that was in the days of AOL dial up. I remember that they finally had to get push button telephone service. Until that day, they had resisted, keeping their dial phone. But, you cannot connect to the internet using dial phone service, so they had to convert. I don't know how long push button service had been available - 30 years? Who knows?? But they just never saw the need to get it - until they had to so that he could get on the internet with his new computer.
These were such loving people. They were in church ever Sunday and Wednesday night. He was a deacon and she taught Sunday School. They were at a church supper the night he fell face first into his plate. He was having a heart attack. The actions of his friends at that supper saved his life. They used CPR to keep him alive until the ambulance arrived to take him to the hospital. I don't remember what the doctors did, but he lived another 20 years. And, I am so very grateful for that. Had he not, my children would not have been old enough to know him. Mom and Pop were the only grandparents they ever really knew, since my folks died when my children were very young.
That was the other thing - Mom and Pop treated my children the same as they treated their own grandchildren. From the day that I married their son, my children became their grandchildren. It was just the way they were. I think they thought I was a little strange - Mom once told my husband that I was 'different'. I don't think they were accustomed to women who worked at technical jobs like computer programmers and analysts. With that type of work comes a certain 'take charge' attitude. They didn't quite know what to make of me. But, they loved me just the same.
He grew up in the tiny town of Whitwell, Tennessee, just over the mountain, west of Chattanooga. Of course, everybody in Whitwell knew everybody else - and they still do. It hasn't changed much since then. His brother, Gettis owned an airfield in Whitwell - the first thing you saw when you came over the mountain into Whitwell. It looked more like a football field, since it was 100% grass. But, Gettis flew his tiny experimental airplanes from that field.
Whitwell had one main road and when it was built around the town (they do so much of that these days, never considering what it does to the businesses left behind in 'downtown') the town pretty much died, never to be the same again.
His jobs always seemed to have something to do with money. He worked for Johnson Tire Company, a company that everyone knew of because in those days, if you needed tires, that was where you got them. After they closed, he went to work as the loan officer for Hamilton National Bank. He was there the day the "Federales" arrived unannounced and took over operation of the bank. It was forced into bankruptcy, overseen by the government and "Pop", as we all called him, and emerged as a branch of First Tennessee National Bank.
"Pop" was also the superintendent of Hamilton County Schools during the turmoil of integration. He received a 'thank you' letter from President John Kennedy for being in charge of the only school system in the country up to that time to integrate with absolutely no problems of any kind. Pop was just that kind of person. Everything he did was done with grace, kindness and an unfaltering guiding hand. He was truly loved by many. One of his nieces thought of him as her own dad. I came to think of him as mine, too.
I was home the day I got the call from Mom that he needed to go to the hospital. I rushed to their house and took him to the hospital, where he died several days later of pneumonia. He was such an unselfish man that he insisted that the doctors take him off all life support so that he could die. I think he was tired. He was 84 years old and had lived the last 30 years or so with just one kidney and the last 5 with prostate cancer.
I have a 'story' to tell about Pop. His only child, my husband, John, and I are antique dealers. We used to go on calls when people had estates to sell. We got such a call from a girl whose family was from Whitwell. We arrived at this statuesque, brick home with great expectations. Sadly, she kept most of the beautiful antiques in that house, but one thing she was willing to let go were the Valentines she found in an old trunk in the attic. We were thrilled to get them, since old Valentines are very collectible. I took them home and began going through them. Most were the old lace Valentines that we don't see today. I was intrigued by some of them because they were still in their envelopes. When I began to open them, I realized that her grandmother must have been sick on the day they exchanged Valentines in school that year because all of these Valentines were from her to her classmates. Imagine my delight and shock when I found one addressed to Leslie Hudson and inside, her name. Of course, that was one that was never sold and we still have it after we finally found it hidden away in a book at Mom's house after she passed away. I guess she couldn't throw it away but she didn't have to have it in her face every day - after all, she married him, not the young girl who gave it to him. I guess jealousy dies hard, even when you are in your 70's. At least she kept it - after we delivered that Valentine 60 years late. I suppose we should have delivered the others, but that never crossed our minds. Don't know how we would have found all those little boys and girls 60 years later. In retrospect, 20 years after we found them, I'm sort of sorry we didn't at least try.
Pop was just Pop. He never got angry or upset. But, he did get a little excited (although he barely showed it) when I delivered a computer to Mom (she had said she wanted one). So, we got them one and an internet connection. To my knowledge, she, a brilliant woman, never touched it. But oh boy did he!! He loved to email his friends. I'm not sure what else he did with it, but that was in the days of AOL dial up. I remember that they finally had to get push button telephone service. Until that day, they had resisted, keeping their dial phone. But, you cannot connect to the internet using dial phone service, so they had to convert. I don't know how long push button service had been available - 30 years? Who knows?? But they just never saw the need to get it - until they had to so that he could get on the internet with his new computer.
These were such loving people. They were in church ever Sunday and Wednesday night. He was a deacon and she taught Sunday School. They were at a church supper the night he fell face first into his plate. He was having a heart attack. The actions of his friends at that supper saved his life. They used CPR to keep him alive until the ambulance arrived to take him to the hospital. I don't remember what the doctors did, but he lived another 20 years. And, I am so very grateful for that. Had he not, my children would not have been old enough to know him. Mom and Pop were the only grandparents they ever really knew, since my folks died when my children were very young.
That was the other thing - Mom and Pop treated my children the same as they treated their own grandchildren. From the day that I married their son, my children became their grandchildren. It was just the way they were. I think they thought I was a little strange - Mom once told my husband that I was 'different'. I don't think they were accustomed to women who worked at technical jobs like computer programmers and analysts. With that type of work comes a certain 'take charge' attitude. They didn't quite know what to make of me. But, they loved me just the same.
Leslie Hudson was my father in law and one of the nicest men I have ever known. The love of his life was his beloved wife, Mildred McCurry, to whom he was married for over 60 years. His passing was a blow to all of us but none as much as her. She followed him just a year after he passed away.
He grew up in the tiny town of Whitwell, Tennessee, just over the mountain, west of Chattanooga. Of course, everybody in Whitwell knew everybody else - and they still do. It hasn't changed much since then. His brother, Gettis owned an airfield in Whitwell - the first thing you saw when you came over the mountain into Whitwell. It looked more like a football field, since it was 100% grass. But, Gettis flew his tiny experimental airplanes from that field.
Whitwell had one main road and when it was built around the town (they do so much of that these days, never considering what it does to the businesses left behind in 'downtown') the town pretty much died, never to be the same again.
His jobs always seemed to have something to do with money. He worked for Johnson Tire Company, a company that everyone knew of because in those days, if you needed tires, that was where you got them. After they closed, he went to work as the loan officer for Hamilton National Bank. He was there the day the "Federales" arrived unannounced and took over operation of the bank. It was forced into bankruptcy, overseen by the government and "Pop", as we all called him, and emerged as a branch of First Tennessee National Bank.
"Pop" was also the superintendent of Hamilton County Schools during the turmoil of integration. He received a 'thank you' letter from President John Kennedy for being in charge of the only school system in the country up to that time to integrate with absolutely no problems of any kind. Pop was just that kind of person. Everything he did was done with grace, kindness and an unfaltering guiding hand. He was truly loved by many. One of his nieces thought of him as her own dad. I came to think of him as mine, too.
I was home the day I got the call from Mom that he needed to go to the hospital. I rushed to their house and took him to the hospital, where he died several days later of pneumonia. He was such an unselfish man that he insisted that the doctors take him off all life support so that he could die. I think he was tired. He was 84 years old and had lived the last 30 years or so with just one kidney and the last 5 with prostate cancer.
I have a 'story' to tell about Pop. His only child, my husband, John, and I are antique dealers. We used to go on calls when people had estates to sell. We got such a call from a girl whose family was from Whitwell. We arrived at this statuesque, brick home with great expectations. Sadly, she kept most of the beautiful antiques in that house, but one thing she was willing to let go were the Valentines she found in an old trunk in the attic. We were thrilled to get them, since old Valentines are very collectible. I took them home and began going through them. Most were the old lace Valentines that we don't see today. I was intrigued by some of them because they were still in their envelopes. When I began to open them, I realized that her grandmother must have been sick on the day they exchanged Valentines in school that year because all of these Valentines were from her to her classmates. Imagine my delight and shock when I found one addressed to Leslie Hudson and inside, her name. Of course, that was one that was never sold and we still have it after we finally found it hidden away in a book at Mom's house after she passed away. I guess she couldn't throw it away but she didn't have to have it in her face every day - after all, she married him, not the young girl who gave it to him. I guess jealousy dies hard, even when you are in your 70's. At least she kept it - after we delivered that Valentine 60 years late. I suppose we should have delivered the others, but that never crossed our minds. Don't know how we would have found all those little boys and girls 60 years later. In retrospect, 20 years after we found them, I'm sort of sorry we didn't at least try.
Pop was just Pop. He never got angry or upset. But, he did get a little excited (although he barely showed it) when I delivered a computer to Mom (she had said she wanted one). So, we got them one and an internet connection. To my knowledge, she, a brilliant woman, never touched it. But oh boy did he!! He loved to email his friends. I'm not sure what else he did with it, but that was in the days of AOL dial up. I remember that they finally had to get push button telephone service. Until that day, they had resisted, keeping their dial phone. But, you cannot connect to the internet using dial phone service, so they had to convert. I don't know how long push button service had been available - 30 years? Who knows?? But they just never saw the need to get it - until they had to so that he could get on the internet with his new computer.
These were such loving people. They were in church ever Sunday and Wednesday night. He was a deacon and she taught Sunday School. They were at a church supper the night he fell face first into his plate. He was having a heart attack. The actions of his friends at that supper saved his life. They used CPR to keep him alive until the ambulance arrived to take him to the hospital. I don't remember what the doctors did, but he lived another 20 years. And, I am so very grateful for that. Had he not, my children would not have been old enough to know him. Mom and Pop were the only grandparents they ever really knew, since my folks died when my children were very young.
That was the other thing - Mom and Pop treated my children the same as they treated their own grandchildren. From the day that I married their son, my children became their grandchildren. It was just the way they were. I think they thought I was a little strange - Mom once told my husband that I was 'different'. I don't think they were accustomed to women who worked at technical jobs like computer programmers and analysts. With that type of work comes a certain 'take charge' attitude. They didn't quite know what to make of me. But, they loved me just the same.
He grew up in the tiny town of Whitwell, Tennessee, just over the mountain, west of Chattanooga. Of course, everybody in Whitwell knew everybody else - and they still do. It hasn't changed much since then. His brother, Gettis owned an airfield in Whitwell - the first thing you saw when you came over the mountain into Whitwell. It looked more like a football field, since it was 100% grass. But, Gettis flew his tiny experimental airplanes from that field.
Whitwell had one main road and when it was built around the town (they do so much of that these days, never considering what it does to the businesses left behind in 'downtown') the town pretty much died, never to be the same again.
His jobs always seemed to have something to do with money. He worked for Johnson Tire Company, a company that everyone knew of because in those days, if you needed tires, that was where you got them. After they closed, he went to work as the loan officer for Hamilton National Bank. He was there the day the "Federales" arrived unannounced and took over operation of the bank. It was forced into bankruptcy, overseen by the government and "Pop", as we all called him, and emerged as a branch of First Tennessee National Bank.
"Pop" was also the superintendent of Hamilton County Schools during the turmoil of integration. He received a 'thank you' letter from President John Kennedy for being in charge of the only school system in the country up to that time to integrate with absolutely no problems of any kind. Pop was just that kind of person. Everything he did was done with grace, kindness and an unfaltering guiding hand. He was truly loved by many. One of his nieces thought of him as her own dad. I came to think of him as mine, too.
I was home the day I got the call from Mom that he needed to go to the hospital. I rushed to their house and took him to the hospital, where he died several days later of pneumonia. He was such an unselfish man that he insisted that the doctors take him off all life support so that he could die. I think he was tired. He was 84 years old and had lived the last 30 years or so with just one kidney and the last 5 with prostate cancer.
I have a 'story' to tell about Pop. His only child, my husband, John, and I are antique dealers. We used to go on calls when people had estates to sell. We got such a call from a girl whose family was from Whitwell. We arrived at this statuesque, brick home with great expectations. Sadly, she kept most of the beautiful antiques in that house, but one thing she was willing to let go were the Valentines she found in an old trunk in the attic. We were thrilled to get them, since old Valentines are very collectible. I took them home and began going through them. Most were the old lace Valentines that we don't see today. I was intrigued by some of them because they were still in their envelopes. When I began to open them, I realized that her grandmother must have been sick on the day they exchanged Valentines in school that year because all of these Valentines were from her to her classmates. Imagine my delight and shock when I found one addressed to Leslie Hudson and inside, her name. Of course, that was one that was never sold and we still have it after we finally found it hidden away in a book at Mom's house after she passed away. I guess she couldn't throw it away but she didn't have to have it in her face every day - after all, she married him, not the young girl who gave it to him. I guess jealousy dies hard, even when you are in your 70's. At least she kept it - after we delivered that Valentine 60 years late. I suppose we should have delivered the others, but that never crossed our minds. Don't know how we would have found all those little boys and girls 60 years later. In retrospect, 20 years after we found them, I'm sort of sorry we didn't at least try.
Pop was just Pop. He never got angry or upset. But, he did get a little excited (although he barely showed it) when I delivered a computer to Mom (she had said she wanted one). So, we got them one and an internet connection. To my knowledge, she, a brilliant woman, never touched it. But oh boy did he!! He loved to email his friends. I'm not sure what else he did with it, but that was in the days of AOL dial up. I remember that they finally had to get push button telephone service. Until that day, they had resisted, keeping their dial phone. But, you cannot connect to the internet using dial phone service, so they had to convert. I don't know how long push button service had been available - 30 years? Who knows?? But they just never saw the need to get it - until they had to so that he could get on the internet with his new computer.
These were such loving people. They were in church ever Sunday and Wednesday night. He was a deacon and she taught Sunday School. They were at a church supper the night he fell face first into his plate. He was having a heart attack. The actions of his friends at that supper saved his life. They used CPR to keep him alive until the ambulance arrived to take him to the hospital. I don't remember what the doctors did, but he lived another 20 years. And, I am so very grateful for that. Had he not, my children would not have been old enough to know him. Mom and Pop were the only grandparents they ever really knew, since my folks died when my children were very young.
That was the other thing - Mom and Pop treated my children the same as they treated their own grandchildren. From the day that I married their son, my children became their grandchildren. It was just the way they were. I think they thought I was a little strange - Mom once told my husband that I was 'different'. I don't think they were accustomed to women who worked at technical jobs like computer programmers and analysts. With that type of work comes a certain 'take charge' attitude. They didn't quite know what to make of me. But, they loved me just the same.
