There's a crew putting a new roof on our home. My bride and I were discussing the project, and she mentioned that the gentleman who owned the company is named Robert Ford. I asked her if he was related to "the dirty little coward who shot Mr. Howard." She said he was from Canada. I had to sing her a few lines of "Jesse James." 'They had the law in their hands, but they didn't have the sand, To take Jesse James alive." "Well Jesse had a wife to mourn for his life, three children now they were brave and that dirty little coward who shot Mr. Howard, laid poor Jesse in his grave." She chuckled, obviously quite familiar with my foolishness.
My Uncle Tom Spencer recorded the song with all of it's verses. My grandmother, Ada Backus Spencer and pretty much her whole family were musically talented. My dad and Uncle Tom inherited a strong dose - I don't know about the other 4 siblings. Tom recorded 3 albums that I know of - he never hit it big, but after he took early retirement from Ball State as a music and social studies ed professor of some sort, he was a studio musician in Nashville. During those years it was common for some states to have fiddling contests at their fairs and sometimes guitar picking events. Uncle Tom was a contender at several of those and won at least once. One of my earliest blogs mentions him.
My Uncle Tom Spencer recorded the song with all of it's verses. My grandmother, Ada Backus Spencer and pretty much her whole family were musically talented. My dad and Uncle Tom inherited a strong dose - I don't know about the other 4 siblings. Tom recorded 3 albums that I know of - he never hit it big, but after he took early retirement from Ball State as a music and social studies ed professor of some sort, he was a studio musician in Nashville. During those years it was common for some states to have fiddling contests at their fairs and sometimes guitar picking events. Uncle Tom was a contender at several of those and won at least once. One of my earliest blogs mentions him.
The copies of Uncle Tom's albums were lost through some of the shenanigans of my brother Steve. I recorded them to cassette, but have no idea where they may be now. But this is the ballad about Jesse and the dirty little coward Robert Ford.
Uncle Tom was 2 years younger than my father. Dad always spoke of him with obvious love and respect, maybe even a bit of reverence.
The first tale I remember hearing about the two of them had to do with the school bus. I may have mentioned this elsewhere, so you'll need to forgive me. I don't know why, never thought to ask why, Dad and Tom (and maybe the other Spencer kids) went to Summersville (WV) to high school. Most of the kids from Craigsville went to Richwood. One time in high school as Aunt Mary told it, Dad was telling the other fellows how Summersville would whip Richwood in the big rivalry football game. Dad had a bet going with one guy where the loser would shave his head. Dad's protruding forehead (obvious in the picture below) must have drawn lots of comments ('guff' he'd have called it) with no hair covering it.
I first heard the "bus story" from my brother David. I confirmed most of the details with Uncle Tom. Dad and Tom rode the bus to school - Summersville High. The bus driver had been in school with the Spencer boys earlier in the year, but had dropped out and got the job driving. He had a "henchman" (Uncle Tom's word) to help enforce the bus rules. My father had an extremely awkward gait from his bout with infantile paralysis. The bus driver would pop the clutch on the standard transmission vehicle before Dad was seated, and often he'd fall. Then the two fellows in charge would laugh at crippled Eddie. He was not happy about the situation, had asked or maybe demanded that the "joke" stop.
The first tale I remember hearing about the two of them had to do with the school bus. I may have mentioned this elsewhere, so you'll need to forgive me. I don't know why, never thought to ask why, Dad and Tom (and maybe the other Spencer kids) went to Summersville (WV) to high school. Most of the kids from Craigsville went to Richwood. One time in high school as Aunt Mary told it, Dad was telling the other fellows how Summersville would whip Richwood in the big rivalry football game. Dad had a bet going with one guy where the loser would shave his head. Dad's protruding forehead (obvious in the picture below) must have drawn lots of comments ('guff' he'd have called it) with no hair covering it.
I first heard the "bus story" from my brother David. I confirmed most of the details with Uncle Tom. Dad and Tom rode the bus to school - Summersville High. The bus driver had been in school with the Spencer boys earlier in the year, but had dropped out and got the job driving. He had a "henchman" (Uncle Tom's word) to help enforce the bus rules. My father had an extremely awkward gait from his bout with infantile paralysis. The bus driver would pop the clutch on the standard transmission vehicle before Dad was seated, and often he'd fall. Then the two fellows in charge would laugh at crippled Eddie. He was not happy about the situation, had asked or maybe demanded that the "joke" stop.
When he'd had enough, Dad enlisted his younger (but stocky) brother to resolve the issue. Tom just needed to keep the henchman out of the fray. He did. I didn't get a blow by blow recap, but the bus driver wound up with a broken leg, and the Spencer boys were no longer allowed to ride the bus.
Tom was pretty sharp in the book learning and graduated the same year as my dad (1938). I'm uncertain of exactly when, but I think it was before starting college that he traveled with an evangelist providing music for the revivals. I know he played at least 2 stringed instruments by then if not more. In some of the memorabilia from West Virginia there was a handbill about a revival that included his picture and name. In his last album (Songs: Silly, Sad, and Sentimental, if I remember), one with several songs he'd written, he describes an 18-year-old's several memorable days with a minister's daughter whose parents were out of town and who showed him "the ways of the world" or some similar situation. Maybe he made the story up and maybe he didn't. I didn't ask. - chorus-
Strawberries don't taste so good anymore,
And beautiful women don't tempt him to stray.
For this old man the good life has lost its allure,
But none of his memories have faded away.
My father never mentioned any of Uncle Tom's odd behavior when they were kids, in fact the only thing he ever mentioned was, "Your Uncle Tom is touched." For those unfamiliar with the lingo, "touched" refers to mental illness. My mother mentioned a couple of incidents, and his wife Josephine or Jo flat out confirmed he was bipolar. Seems neuroses may have been frequent on the Backus side, at least my mother claimed it was so, but she tended to "stretch" things a bit.
Tom and Jo were married by the mid-1940's, and Tom was enrolled in Anderson College (now "University"). Their oldest son Donald was born during this period. Donnie was older than my brother Paul who was born in 1945. The school is a small private college affiliated with the Church of God (Anderson, IN). We have high schools in my home district larger than the college is today. Tom was solidly built and caught the attention of the football coach one day (most of the men were at war). He was soon playing on the offensive line, though he'd never been much of an athlete in high school. Dad went up to watch him play and said he could "sure move 'em out of the way."
Tom was pretty sharp in the book learning and graduated the same year as my dad (1938). I'm uncertain of exactly when, but I think it was before starting college that he traveled with an evangelist providing music for the revivals. I know he played at least 2 stringed instruments by then if not more. In some of the memorabilia from West Virginia there was a handbill about a revival that included his picture and name. In his last album (Songs: Silly, Sad, and Sentimental, if I remember), one with several songs he'd written, he describes an 18-year-old's several memorable days with a minister's daughter whose parents were out of town and who showed him "the ways of the world" or some similar situation. Maybe he made the story up and maybe he didn't. I didn't ask. - chorus-
Strawberries don't taste so good anymore,
And beautiful women don't tempt him to stray.
For this old man the good life has lost its allure,
But none of his memories have faded away.
My father never mentioned any of Uncle Tom's odd behavior when they were kids, in fact the only thing he ever mentioned was, "Your Uncle Tom is touched." For those unfamiliar with the lingo, "touched" refers to mental illness. My mother mentioned a couple of incidents, and his wife Josephine or Jo flat out confirmed he was bipolar. Seems neuroses may have been frequent on the Backus side, at least my mother claimed it was so, but she tended to "stretch" things a bit.
Tom and Jo were married by the mid-1940's, and Tom was enrolled in Anderson College (now "University"). Their oldest son Donald was born during this period. Donnie was older than my brother Paul who was born in 1945. The school is a small private college affiliated with the Church of God (Anderson, IN). We have high schools in my home district larger than the college is today. Tom was solidly built and caught the attention of the football coach one day (most of the men were at war). He was soon playing on the offensive line, though he'd never been much of an athlete in high school. Dad went up to watch him play and said he could "sure move 'em out of the way."
Aunt Josephine spoke of an incident that occurred during Tom's football playing phase. She was working a job, but not making enough money to make ends meet. Granny Spencer was sending money for school probably wheedling it out of Papaw (that's another story), but Jo was still struggling to keep food on the table. She may even have been pregnant for Donnie, or he may have been an infant. She didn't give specific dates.
Tom came home one day with a movie camera. His plan was to have Josephine film his football escapades. For what, she didn't know. She had to take it back for a refund. He refused to return it.
Around the same time, there was a large manufacturer of electrical components opening a factory or maybe hiring workers somewhere close to Anderson. I saw the plant when I drove up to visit. Dad was interested in getting a job there, so Mom and Dad arranged a visit with Tom and Jo. They got there in the evening and made plans to "go do stuff" the next day. When the next day arrived, Tom had gone into the down side of his mental disorder and couldn't even get out of bed. I know he attempted suicide several times during his life. When I was young, I'd occasionally hear a whispered comment. In later year's Mom would say, "I talked to Josephine. Your Uncle Tom tried to commit suicide again." He made an attempt shortly before I visited in the late 90s.
Tom came home one day with a movie camera. His plan was to have Josephine film his football escapades. For what, she didn't know. She had to take it back for a refund. He refused to return it.
Around the same time, there was a large manufacturer of electrical components opening a factory or maybe hiring workers somewhere close to Anderson. I saw the plant when I drove up to visit. Dad was interested in getting a job there, so Mom and Dad arranged a visit with Tom and Jo. They got there in the evening and made plans to "go do stuff" the next day. When the next day arrived, Tom had gone into the down side of his mental disorder and couldn't even get out of bed. I know he attempted suicide several times during his life. When I was young, I'd occasionally hear a whispered comment. In later year's Mom would say, "I talked to Josephine. Your Uncle Tom tried to commit suicide again." He made an attempt shortly before I visited in the late 90s.
Tom was an ordained minister in the Church of the Nazarene. I'm thinking that may have been in rebellion against his staunch Church of God mother, and I'll guess that was something that occurred during or shortly after acquiring his BA. It's not like there are many differences. Late in my grandparents' lives, a Nazarene church was built about 100 yards from their house, and Granny and Papaw attended there. Granny's funeral was there, maybe Papaw's too.
Going to school and hanging out with "academics" gave Tom the idea of getting an advanced degree. When he contacted his mother about the plan, asking for continued financial support, she told him he had enough schooling, and it was time to get a job. There wasn't much use of the term "career" in my family. And the rest of the Spencer bunch agreed with Granny.
Uncle Tom told me he felt betrayed by his family because they wouldn't support him in the pursuit of his goals, and he'd show them. He pretty much broke ties with the whole clan, although he and Dad maintained a relationship a few more years. His faculty position was in the college of education at Ball State. - Associate Professor according to the school listing in the late 70s. He had earned either a PhD or an EdD. I tracked down his publications once, and they were mainly tied to Social Studies. One was on cremation. I'm told he also taught music.
Going to school and hanging out with "academics" gave Tom the idea of getting an advanced degree. When he contacted his mother about the plan, asking for continued financial support, she told him he had enough schooling, and it was time to get a job. There wasn't much use of the term "career" in my family. And the rest of the Spencer bunch agreed with Granny.
Uncle Tom told me he felt betrayed by his family because they wouldn't support him in the pursuit of his goals, and he'd show them. He pretty much broke ties with the whole clan, although he and Dad maintained a relationship a few more years. His faculty position was in the college of education at Ball State. - Associate Professor according to the school listing in the late 70s. He had earned either a PhD or an EdD. I tracked down his publications once, and they were mainly tied to Social Studies. One was on cremation. I'm told he also taught music.
![Picture](/uploads/3/7/6/1/37616355/published/church-of-god.png?1529464144)
Most of my childhood church going occurred at this church, although it was smaller back then. I recall an Easter Sunday we had slightly over 400 people and it was busting at the seams. We started at the little church on the corner of Pleasant and Market St. but soon switched to "Junior's church" after Leon Thompson moved on. Back behind the church, a gentleman named Lonard (sp?) Williams had some hogs. This was Homer's and Leroy's dad, if I recall. He'd come to school and collect all the "plate scrapings" from the meals to feed the hogs. It was quite common for him to cook the pig swill on Sunday morning while church was going on. There sure were a lot of complaints about the aroma. Some insisted he wasn't happy that the church had been built there, others that he had some beef (pun intended) with Junior or some of the church members. I think it's a great story.
I have one foggy memory of Tom, Josephine, and Donnie visiting us in Charlestown and going to church. I can count on my fingers the number of times Dad went to church with us, but he went that day. While he wasn't a church goer, he was pretty knowledgeable about the Bible, and he helped Junior Cash expand the North Charlestown Church of God in 1956 or 1960. I'm thinking it was 1960 because I remember bits and pieces. (and I was born in 1955). It was originally called Faith Tabernacle.
By the mid-1970s, Uncle Tom had broken ties with Dad. Mom and Josephine still spoke on the phone occasionally. Tom hadn't played music for many years, but was in his attic and noticed his old guitar. He started fooling around on it and pretty soon was playing in the small venues of a college town, billing himself as "The Ole Perfessor and his West Virginia (by way of Indian) Guitar." His first album went by the same name and was all instrumental - 6 string guitar, tenor guitar, and mandolin with some drum sounding electronic metronome keeping the beat. He was listed in "Ripley's Believe It or Not" "Thomas E. Spencer of Muncie, Ind., in a concert beginning Sept. 12, 1982, that lasted 32 hours and 32 minutes, sang 403 full-length songs and played another 101 on his guitar, mandolin, banjo and harmonica." (Thank You, Mike) He wore overalls and a red bandana while performing.
Alan Hall and I were good pals all through high school. We both, along with Mike Schafer, came to Louisiana for college. Mike retired after a semester, Alan after 2, and I dropped out but stayed in Louisiana because I'd already been 'hooked' by my sweetheart. Alan was in our wedding and I in his. At some point after leaving Louisiana, Alan wound up at Ball State as a student. He knew I had an uncle up there, so he tracked him down. I understand they hung out together a bit. Josephine and Tom both remembered Alan when I visited 20 years or so after he was in school. They had tried to fix him up with some woman, and Alan had stopped coming around, at least that was their version. Alan may chime in with a different rendition.
Donald Spencer became a college administrator at one of the colleges in the Illinois State system. There's a student union facility named after him. Jo had a surprise baby in the 60s, a boy named Mark Randall. Maybe they'll stumble across this and clarify a few details. At some point in the 70s, after rejuvenating his musical interests, Tom and many other faculty members were offered an early retirement deal as party of a budgetary crisis at Ball State. Tom got home that day and told Jo to pack up, he's retired, and they were moving to Nashville for him to become a recording star. Jo refused.
My grandmother died around Easter 1976. My bride met her once. I learned from Josephine over 20 years later that Uncle Tom had driven to West Virginia for the funeral, had even driven down the street where he'd grown up and where the funeral was held but could not muster the pluck to reestablish the family connection after so many years of estrangement. He left without stopping.
Alan Hall and I were good pals all through high school. We both, along with Mike Schafer, came to Louisiana for college. Mike retired after a semester, Alan after 2, and I dropped out but stayed in Louisiana because I'd already been 'hooked' by my sweetheart. Alan was in our wedding and I in his. At some point after leaving Louisiana, Alan wound up at Ball State as a student. He knew I had an uncle up there, so he tracked him down. I understand they hung out together a bit. Josephine and Tom both remembered Alan when I visited 20 years or so after he was in school. They had tried to fix him up with some woman, and Alan had stopped coming around, at least that was their version. Alan may chime in with a different rendition.
Donald Spencer became a college administrator at one of the colleges in the Illinois State system. There's a student union facility named after him. Jo had a surprise baby in the 60s, a boy named Mark Randall. Maybe they'll stumble across this and clarify a few details. At some point in the 70s, after rejuvenating his musical interests, Tom and many other faculty members were offered an early retirement deal as party of a budgetary crisis at Ball State. Tom got home that day and told Jo to pack up, he's retired, and they were moving to Nashville for him to become a recording star. Jo refused.
My grandmother died around Easter 1976. My bride met her once. I learned from Josephine over 20 years later that Uncle Tom had driven to West Virginia for the funeral, had even driven down the street where he'd grown up and where the funeral was held but could not muster the pluck to reestablish the family connection after so many years of estrangement. He left without stopping.
At some point Tom ended up living in some sort of rooming facility for aspiring musicians. I think it was owned by a small recording company, and Tom helped keep tabs on the younger residents. He did a great deal of studio work during those years and recorded the 3 albums.
I mentioned a song he wrote. There are 2 others that are pretty unusual, so bear with me. Tom wrote a song, "I Enjoy Being Fat" hoping that Johnny Russel, an obese musician who played the Grand Ole Opry and had many jokes about his weight, would record it.
I'm way too heavy to walk on water and I'm to dern fat to fly.
I eat a lot of things that that I maybe shouldn't oughta, but I really am living high.
Well I like potatoes either mashed or fried, as long as there's another dozen dishes on the side.
Can't walk the straight and narrow cuz I'm too dern wide, oh I enjoy being fat.
When Russel refused to even hear the song, Tom felt slighted, so he added a verse that included the following lines.
Well, I'm not quite as fat as Johnny Russel, but very few people are.
With so much fat and so little muscle, I can barely lift my guitar."
Russel wrote Buck Owens's hit "Act Naturally" and wrote and recorded #4 on the Billboard charts in Oct., 1973, "Red Neck, White Socks, and Blue Ribbon Beer." Allison Krauss and maybe a few others recorded "Catfish John" another Russel composition.
I mentioned a song he wrote. There are 2 others that are pretty unusual, so bear with me. Tom wrote a song, "I Enjoy Being Fat" hoping that Johnny Russel, an obese musician who played the Grand Ole Opry and had many jokes about his weight, would record it.
I'm way too heavy to walk on water and I'm to dern fat to fly.
I eat a lot of things that that I maybe shouldn't oughta, but I really am living high.
Well I like potatoes either mashed or fried, as long as there's another dozen dishes on the side.
Can't walk the straight and narrow cuz I'm too dern wide, oh I enjoy being fat.
When Russel refused to even hear the song, Tom felt slighted, so he added a verse that included the following lines.
Well, I'm not quite as fat as Johnny Russel, but very few people are.
With so much fat and so little muscle, I can barely lift my guitar."
Russel wrote Buck Owens's hit "Act Naturally" and wrote and recorded #4 on the Billboard charts in Oct., 1973, "Red Neck, White Socks, and Blue Ribbon Beer." Allison Krauss and maybe a few others recorded "Catfish John" another Russel composition.
One more I must mention is "How My Dad and Roy Acuff Whipped Japan." It's a story a son tells about his father, how he was on Okinawa during Word War II and was being attacked by a "horde of Nipponese" who shouted,
"To hell with Roosevelt, to hell with Babe Ruth, to hell with Roy Acuff, too.
They had murder in their eyes but they didn't realize,
What those insults would cause my dad to do.
Dad could take or leave "The Babe" because he didn't like the Yankees
And he had never cast for FDR a single vote
… can't recall this line ….
But when they insulted Acuff, well it 'got my daddy's goat.'"
So he beat the enemy single handed and as he was mopping up, he started singing, "The Wabash Cannonball." That song was one of my favorites from hearing Dizzy Dean sing it while broadcasting baseball games. Roy Acuff had a huge hit with it, but I prefer Ol' Diz.
"To hell with Roosevelt, to hell with Babe Ruth, to hell with Roy Acuff, too.
They had murder in their eyes but they didn't realize,
What those insults would cause my dad to do.
Dad could take or leave "The Babe" because he didn't like the Yankees
And he had never cast for FDR a single vote
… can't recall this line ….
But when they insulted Acuff, well it 'got my daddy's goat.'"
So he beat the enemy single handed and as he was mopping up, he started singing, "The Wabash Cannonball." That song was one of my favorites from hearing Dizzy Dean sing it while broadcasting baseball games. Roy Acuff had a huge hit with it, but I prefer Ol' Diz.
At some point in his musical phase, actually while tending "the youngins'," someone brought in a load of donuts, and Uncle Tom chowed down. They ended up having to carry him out and get him to a hospital. He was diagnosed with diabetes. He moved back home to Muncie and Josephine.
My Granny Spencer had diabetes, Dad, Uncle Tom, me, my oldest brother, and my son all do, too.
Before Tom left Nashville, he and my father talked on the phone a few times. Tom was to be in passing through Louisville, and they arranged to meet and have coffee. When the time arrived, similar to my grandmother's funeral, Tom just couldn't do it. My father never complained, never even mentioned it, but it had to have been sorrowful for him. I do think one of my first cousins visited Tom at some point.
Mom had a newspaper clipping - a long article about Uncle Tom playing Ben Franklin in the Muncie area schools. He needed something to do. He certainly looked like Franklin, and he'd always been a scholar of history.
My dad died in July 1995. Aunt Josephine drove to Charlestown for the little memorial service. We visited and I got contact info. She was nearly 75 and still leading exercise groups at her local YMCA. She wore an unusual wig - one with braided pigtails. It put me in mind of "old Miss Wagner" one of Mark Twain's characters in Roughing It, chapter 53. I read that piece to my brother Jon as he drew his last breaths. I'm not implying that Aunt Jo was in any way a comical figure, but there was just something about that wig.
I'd started my teaching career the January before. In summer of 1996, I participated in the National Writing Project (I was an English teacher). During those sessions I wrote a piece about West Virginia and my father. It mentioned Uncle Tom. It appeared in this blog 8/23/2014.
My Granny Spencer had diabetes, Dad, Uncle Tom, me, my oldest brother, and my son all do, too.
Before Tom left Nashville, he and my father talked on the phone a few times. Tom was to be in passing through Louisville, and they arranged to meet and have coffee. When the time arrived, similar to my grandmother's funeral, Tom just couldn't do it. My father never complained, never even mentioned it, but it had to have been sorrowful for him. I do think one of my first cousins visited Tom at some point.
Mom had a newspaper clipping - a long article about Uncle Tom playing Ben Franklin in the Muncie area schools. He needed something to do. He certainly looked like Franklin, and he'd always been a scholar of history.
My dad died in July 1995. Aunt Josephine drove to Charlestown for the little memorial service. We visited and I got contact info. She was nearly 75 and still leading exercise groups at her local YMCA. She wore an unusual wig - one with braided pigtails. It put me in mind of "old Miss Wagner" one of Mark Twain's characters in Roughing It, chapter 53. I read that piece to my brother Jon as he drew his last breaths. I'm not implying that Aunt Jo was in any way a comical figure, but there was just something about that wig.
I'd started my teaching career the January before. In summer of 1996, I participated in the National Writing Project (I was an English teacher). During those sessions I wrote a piece about West Virginia and my father. It mentioned Uncle Tom. It appeared in this blog 8/23/2014.
![Picture](/uploads/3/7/6/1/37616355/hill-s-creek_orig.png)
Lower Falls on Hill's Creek in the Monongahela National Forrest. WE spread my father's ashes not far from here. The only time I ever went ramp hunting as a kid, they were just beginning to create paths and walkways for this location. My grandfather said he'd run across these falls once when he was bear hunting.
At some point following 1996, I sent Uncle Tom "My 4th Grade Essay." Jo had mentioned his vision was pretty poor - old age and diabetes - so I used an 18 pt font. In the accompanying letter, I asked if I could visit him.
He responded, thanking me for the large print, and stated that he assumed it was okay to use a typewriter since I'd used a computer. His hands weren't steady anymore. We set a date for the visit.
Josephine had just placed Tom in a nursing home, saying he was just more than she could handle. She mentioned that he thought it was temporary, but she was arranging for it to be permanent. He was very much overweight and was pretty much immobile. He'd attempted suicide fairly recently. She wasn't a very big woman and keeping him "tended to" must have been quite a job. I followed her to the nursing home.
The first thing he did was ask if I'd seen his book. I had not, but Jo had mentioned it. Seems he had done extensive research to determine where famous people were buried. In his own words, "I have the gravesite of everyone who ever WAS anyone." His guitar had been worth several thousand dollars, and he'd sold it to cover the cost of printing his book. Jo insisted he'd sold it for far les than it was worth. I assumed I'd visit again and acquire a copy. I did not, but I did look through a copy. It was a list of famous (and not so famous) Americans and where they were buried.
With computers and search engines already replacing print, the book wasn't very practical. It made about as much sense as a divinity student's wife filming his football games at a tiny college that didn't have athletic scholarships. I do not find the book listed in the Library of Congress or even in the libraries around Muncie where he may have donated copies.
I spent several hours with him. They took him down for some physical therapy. They had a gadget that they pulled up in front of his chair (picture below), and he pedaled it. Jo brought a pizza later, one of his favorite foods. He went on about how great he exercised on the mini cycle.
He responded, thanking me for the large print, and stated that he assumed it was okay to use a typewriter since I'd used a computer. His hands weren't steady anymore. We set a date for the visit.
Josephine had just placed Tom in a nursing home, saying he was just more than she could handle. She mentioned that he thought it was temporary, but she was arranging for it to be permanent. He was very much overweight and was pretty much immobile. He'd attempted suicide fairly recently. She wasn't a very big woman and keeping him "tended to" must have been quite a job. I followed her to the nursing home.
The first thing he did was ask if I'd seen his book. I had not, but Jo had mentioned it. Seems he had done extensive research to determine where famous people were buried. In his own words, "I have the gravesite of everyone who ever WAS anyone." His guitar had been worth several thousand dollars, and he'd sold it to cover the cost of printing his book. Jo insisted he'd sold it for far les than it was worth. I assumed I'd visit again and acquire a copy. I did not, but I did look through a copy. It was a list of famous (and not so famous) Americans and where they were buried.
With computers and search engines already replacing print, the book wasn't very practical. It made about as much sense as a divinity student's wife filming his football games at a tiny college that didn't have athletic scholarships. I do not find the book listed in the Library of Congress or even in the libraries around Muncie where he may have donated copies.
I spent several hours with him. They took him down for some physical therapy. They had a gadget that they pulled up in front of his chair (picture below), and he pedaled it. Jo brought a pizza later, one of his favorite foods. He went on about how great he exercised on the mini cycle.
Tom had a bizarre way of eating pizza. Jo had it cut in fairly small squares, maybe 3" x 3". He'd pick a piece up and put a corner in his mouth, between his teeth, then let go of it with his hand. He'd pull it into his mouth by manipulating his lips and chewing. It reminded me of something a kid would do and get fussed at.
I don't know what all we talked about. I mentioned that I had found my calling, teaching. I'd stumbled across a quote very roughly along the lines of, "you know when you've found your niche - when you feel most alive." He must have assumed it was some sort of contest, because he immediately insisted that he could have, "done anything in music that he wanted to."
I got him to tie a few of the facts I'd gleaned over the years into something that made sense - things about him and Dad growing up. He'd frequently pause and say his "Parkinson's has kicked in, but I'll get it. Might take me a moment." And shortly he'd "get it." He didn't mention his sons and rarely Josephine. I arrived at midmorning. In the late afternoon, he checked the time and said I'd have to leave because his history show was coming on. I wheeled him to the "common room" and parked him where he could see and hear the tv
I went back by their home. For the 20 years that I'd traveled to West Virginia to visit my grandparents, a large windup, chiming clock sat on a high shelf in the kitchen. Seems that was the traditional family high school graduation gift. Dad had one. Tom's was kept running, chiming on the hour and quarter hour along with the big church in town. After the old folks died, my brother David took it to Indiana with the intent of getting it in Uncle Tom's hands. That day we had my dad's memorial service, Dave walked the block to his home and brought Tom's clock to Josephine.
I don't know what all we talked about. I mentioned that I had found my calling, teaching. I'd stumbled across a quote very roughly along the lines of, "you know when you've found your niche - when you feel most alive." He must have assumed it was some sort of contest, because he immediately insisted that he could have, "done anything in music that he wanted to."
I got him to tie a few of the facts I'd gleaned over the years into something that made sense - things about him and Dad growing up. He'd frequently pause and say his "Parkinson's has kicked in, but I'll get it. Might take me a moment." And shortly he'd "get it." He didn't mention his sons and rarely Josephine. I arrived at midmorning. In the late afternoon, he checked the time and said I'd have to leave because his history show was coming on. I wheeled him to the "common room" and parked him where he could see and hear the tv
I went back by their home. For the 20 years that I'd traveled to West Virginia to visit my grandparents, a large windup, chiming clock sat on a high shelf in the kitchen. Seems that was the traditional family high school graduation gift. Dad had one. Tom's was kept running, chiming on the hour and quarter hour along with the big church in town. After the old folks died, my brother David took it to Indiana with the intent of getting it in Uncle Tom's hands. That day we had my dad's memorial service, Dave walked the block to his home and brought Tom's clock to Josephine.
That evening in Muncie Jo, gave me the clock, saying her own children had never visited West Virginia and would attach little sentimental value to it. I was pleased to have it.
It was quite some time before I sorted out what I'd gathered from my visit.Tom looked much like his mother as my dad did. His build was like my grandfather's.
While I'm a firm believer that most behavior is learned, it was somewhat frightening to realize that all the strange quirks in my uncle's personality existed in my father to a lesser degree and in all my brothers and in me. I don't really know how to describe it. Uncle Tom was very much odd, and all the rest of us are somewhat odd, too. I don't think it was in any way tied to his diagnosed mental illness - more likely neuroses. "Neurotics dream of castles in the air. Psychotics live in them."
Thomas Eugene Spencer died before I ever got back to see him. He was cremated as he suggested in a scholarly paper some 30 years earlier. I was never back in touch with Josephine. She lasted almost 10 years longer than her husband. I have established contact with 2 of my first cousins on the Spencer side - members of the Berry family, my dad's oldest sister. Any Charlestown folks may have known Ben, Fred, or Jimmy. Jimmy was in marching band in 1968 and I think 1969. They don't know where any of the rest of the bunch may be. I'm curiously drawn to learning about my relatives scattered far and wide. I hope to invest some time and effort and track a few down. The ranks are thinning every year.
It was quite some time before I sorted out what I'd gathered from my visit.Tom looked much like his mother as my dad did. His build was like my grandfather's.
While I'm a firm believer that most behavior is learned, it was somewhat frightening to realize that all the strange quirks in my uncle's personality existed in my father to a lesser degree and in all my brothers and in me. I don't really know how to describe it. Uncle Tom was very much odd, and all the rest of us are somewhat odd, too. I don't think it was in any way tied to his diagnosed mental illness - more likely neuroses. "Neurotics dream of castles in the air. Psychotics live in them."
Thomas Eugene Spencer died before I ever got back to see him. He was cremated as he suggested in a scholarly paper some 30 years earlier. I was never back in touch with Josephine. She lasted almost 10 years longer than her husband. I have established contact with 2 of my first cousins on the Spencer side - members of the Berry family, my dad's oldest sister. Any Charlestown folks may have known Ben, Fred, or Jimmy. Jimmy was in marching band in 1968 and I think 1969. They don't know where any of the rest of the bunch may be. I'm curiously drawn to learning about my relatives scattered far and wide. I hope to invest some time and effort and track a few down. The ranks are thinning every year.