I can't tell you this man's story in an objective way; only a subjective way. Because I LOVED him. I respected him. I admired him. This was my beloved grandfather.
He was born at the end of the century before last, in 1898, one of 15 children. That's him, below, second from the end on the left in the back row. His name had been written above him. Alfred was his name.
He always had an interest in music and incidentally, had a very beautiful singing voice. He enrolled in music school and took every course he could. He ended up teaching music around the area that he lived in and wrote a number of songs over the years, which were published by Stamps Baxter Music (which was prominent in those days.) He was also friends with "Dad Speer" of the singing Speer family. Here is one of his songs:
As I said, Granddad never took no for an answer and in his younger years, owned a grocery store and later, a car dealership later followed by a long career. But nothing was as important to him as his family and here he was in his prime with his wife, son and daughter.
Here, he's posing with his sister-in-law, Beatrice.
Here, he was posing with his son at his son's graduation.
Granddad was a very loyal man to his family and a very loving son to his mother. Here he is with his brothers and their mother, Mary Ann.
Granddad owned several businesses in his younger days, including Faulkner Motor Company, a car dealership. When he was around 40, he took a position with Luzianne Coffee Company for which he worked until his retirement. That job took him and his family to Kentucky and Florida before settling in Alabama.
Granddad was known everywhere he went as an honest and upstanding man. No one cursed in his presence.
See that pipe in his hand? He was known for his pipe. He did not smoke cigarettes but he loved his pipe. In fact, he had a collection of pipes.
After a quarter of a century with the company, Granddad retired from Luzianne Coffee Company with the proverbial gold watch. And here were his co workers to give him a retirement party. This picture made it into his local paper.
Here, Granddad was, with one of his grandchildren (me) in his early sixties. Granddad was so positive with me and my sister and cousins. He never criticized us but instead, praised us. I distinctly remember Granddad going to bed with me at night and telling me Bible stories. I'm afraid he may have embellished them a little such as when he told me that because Joseph was a good boy, his father let him go to store and buy some candy. But it's ok, it was my good grandfather and I think he got away with it. I also remember Granddad taking me - just him and me on a trip to Missouri to visit his brother. I couldn't have been more that 5 or 6. He was so good to me. If I had a nickle for every time I saw my grandfather lying in his bed at night reading his Bible, I would be rich.
I told you that Granddad praised us. He did but he also encouraged us. When I was a child, I was musically inclined - like him. He and I would sit at the grand piano and he would play and we'd would sing. Sometimes, I would play and we would sing. He was so proud that I had an interest in music that he INSISTED that I play the piano ANYTIME I wanted to as LONG as I wanted to. And in those days, I was so stupid that I did just that, not realizing that my patient grandfather was probably gritting his teeth as I played the piano at 10:00 at night while he was trying to sleep: my kind grandfather!
My grandfather was a very manly man who was very sure of himself. And yet, I remember seeing him cry the day that President Kennedy was assassinated. He was an open book. All of my youth, I witnessed him being kind to others, giving to those in need. I remember my grandmother saying that Granddad was so trusting that he would leave his warehouse (business products) unlocked and sometimes people would steal from him. He just didn't seem to care. I also remember him telling me to be sure and not gossip or talk about others. And indeed, I never heard Granddad bad mouth others.
Throughout his life, Granddad acted honestly and with character. People of less character, watched how they behaved around him. We heard that often. He believed strongly in God, he honored his mother but most of all, he treated his wife like a queen. Having been adopted by him as a little boy, I witnessed how he treated his wife. Many times, he would come into the kitchen where Mema would be cooking and he would kiss on her and tell her how beautiful she was (they were in their sixties by then). Mema would let him and when he had had his fill, he would happily trot off back to the den and Mema would go about her cooking. Many many times, I heard him tell her that THAT meal was the best he had ever had. He saw to it that his wife always had the latest gadget on the market, the best furniture, etc. There was no better husband to his wife than my grandfather. In fact, the only whipping he ever gave me was because he felt that I had spoken with disrespect to my grandmother. He worshiped her and he expected everyone else to, also.
He was a very outgoing man, having never met a stranger. So much so that I remember one time when I was a teenager, I was in the choir at church and Granddad and Mema were in the audience. The song leader led us in a song called "Oh that will be glory for me" and at the end of the song, Granddad belted out from the audience: "Amen, brother Oliver, that will be glory for me too!". Every laughed.
Granddad officially retired at 65 (because you had to in those days) but he continued to work part time as a car salesman - not because he had to but because he was not an idle man. He didn't WANT to sit at home. He worked until he was 83 and only quit then because we insisted he do so because he couldn't see well enough to drive back and forth.
After he retired for good, he would get up every morning, shower, shave and put on his tie. He'd take his morning walk with Bo, the family dog, down to the church and back. Then, he'd come home in time to see his favorite soap opera (that he'd become addicted to after retirement).
When one lives their life uprightly, usually it will not go unnoticed and so on his 80th birthday, the local paper in our city, came out and did a story on him. This is part of it below.
I apologize for the lack of clarity of the picture below. But it shows Granddad just months from his passing, ravaged by heart disease, sitting with his oldest grandson, Don. If you will notice, Granddad was in a tie. Why? He had no where to go in it. Granddad was a gentleman. Everyday, in retirement, he would get up, shower, dress and put on a tie - to sit in his chair.
One night when Granddad was 86 years old, I was over at his house. Before I left, he asked me to kiss him goodnight. He had never done that before. I believe that he knew his time was coming. The next morning, my father found him lying sideways on his bed. We think that he had sat up to put on his shoes. He fell backwards as death had called his name. My grandmother called me and I came. Shortly afterward, his only daughter arrived and could be heard whispering "My sweet Daddy". An angelic life had come to its end. Later that morning as word spread, people began to fill the house. A few days later, while looking for insurance papers, my grandmother found this note in the cedar chest. Interestingly enough, it had been written on my birthday when I was a very little boy and on Granddad's letterhead. It was a note to his family.
And it was from THIS note that I wrote the poem several years ago, titled "My Path".
My Path
I have decided the path I'll take;
A pleasant life that I will make.
I'll take the advice of that great old man
Who raised me with love and a firm right hand.
"Work hard my dear young honey
Making sure to save your money.
With each day the sun does set,
Tell the truth and pay your debt.
Work to retain the trust of man
And keep your word throughout the land.
And with each day that you do trod,
Seek and bow to the Higher God."
And with those words I have set my plan;
Those words that came from a wise old man.
This is the path that I will take;
A pleasant life that I will make.
Alfred Talmadge Faulkner III
I'm sorry that you can't make out the print below, but upon Granddad's death, his only son (my father) wrote this wonderful tribute to his father and published it in the local paper. He told of Granddad's selflessness towards others and of his kind spirit. Dad finished his tribute to his father by simply saying "Good night, sweet Prince".
So shall I.
Good night, sweet Prince.
_____
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