Joe and Lucy Thatcher, a decade ago
Joe Thatcher with daughter Margaret Thompson and great-grandchild Thatcher
Ferris Robinson
Joe Thatcher was a true Southern gentleman. Some say he was the last of his kind. He was soft spoken but with a sharp dry wit, and considerate in a quiet way. He was in an investment club with my father, and when my father could no longer drive, Joe Thatcher came to pick him up every Tuesday for the meeting. He didn’t make a big deal about it. He certainly wasn’t patronizing in any way. Mr. Thatcher just called my father every week, told him he was going to investment club, and asked if he wanted a ride.
My mother said that was the high point of my father’s week during his last couple of years, those years he couldn’t drive himself.
Mr. Thatcher’s favorite drink was an old-fashioned, and my mother made sure she served them to the two gents as they chatted in her living room after these meetings. She stocked the bar with Maker’s Mark, his bourbon of choice.
He regularly squired the widows of Lookout Mountain around, taking them out to dinner and treating them to lovely evenings. These evenings out on the town were most anticipated and most appreciated. There’s nothing like a good meal shared with old friends, and reminiscing and laughing and reliving lots of mischievous antics all act like a tonic to a gal who misses her mate.
I moved down the street from Mr. Thatcher the summer before he died at age 95, and my plan was to drop by with his favorite whiskey and have a chat. He had a bit of a cold the day I wanted to visit, and I told his daughter, Margaret Thompson, I’d pop in later, when he felt better. He’d played bridge the day before, and enjoyed a big bowl of cereal with fresh blueberries with his son Tommy that morning. Margaret and Tommy noticed he was a little off at lunchtime, and then he died that afternoon at 4 p.m.
What a way to go, folks say. He was active and busy and beloved for almost 96 years. He missed his bride, Lucy, no doubt. And he could have handed in his towel after that great of a loss. But he got himself together after she died, determined to go on and live, as long as he was here. Mr. Thatcher made this world a better place for others, in the truest sense. And did it despite how heavy his own heart may have been.
Joe Thatcher made my father feel at ease during an unsettling part of his life. And I know there are many folks who could say the same about him.
His daughter laughed that his favorite drink was an old-fashioned. I think she understood her dad was indeed old fashioned in the sense that he had manners, something that does not go without saying these days. Joe Thatcher treated women with respect by being chivalrous, was patient and straight forward, and well dressed, always.
And I hope not the last of his kind.
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(Ferris Robinson is the author of two children's books, "The Queen Who Banished Bugs" and "The Queen Who Accidentally Banished Birds," in her pollinator series, with "Call Me Arthropod" coming soon. "Making Arrangements" is her first novel, and "Dogs and Love - Stories of Fidelity" is a collection of true tales about man's best friend. Her website is ferrisrobinson.com. She is the editor of The Lookout Mountain Mirror and The Signal Mountain Mirror. Ferris can be reached at ferrisrobinson@gmail.com )