The Colonel
An Extraordinary Life
For
most
of my life, I’ve associated April
18th as the month and day of Paul Revere’s famous ride to
warn American colonists the British were coming way back in 1775. Now, I
can add one more important historical event to associate with April
18th, though it happened one month earlier on March
18th. James Lee Tutor, beloved building superintendent (retired)
of First Baptist Church, died following a severe asthma attack.
It was my wife, Barbara, who first shared the news of Mr. Tutor’s death
with me. Dot Bell had phoned Barbara, and Barbara phoned me. Dot was en route
to Memphis to keep a granddaughter. Dot’s daughter, Leah Bell Pair,
was having her wisdom teeth removed and Dot was on her way to baby-sit. That
same morning Dot learned one of her nephews had died, too. For Dot, that
same nephew’s mom (Dot’s sister) had died only weeks before. There
may actually be something to the adage that bad news comes in three’s,
or at least in Dot’s case with the deaths of two family members plus
Mr. Tutor it certainly seems so. As church secretary, Dot and Mr. Tutor worked
together for most of the thirty years of Mr. Tutor’s tenure as custodian
or building superintendent.
As Dr. Ken Hester mentioned at Mr. Tutor’s funeral, most church members
have a Mr. Tutor story, with some having more than one story. Mr. Tutor was
something of a practical joker, especially with members of the church staff,
and Bro. Ken briefly recounted the story involving Jim Hess’s Jeep and
an oil leak. For several days, Mr. Tutor would pour a little oil beneath
Jim’s Jeep and then ask Jim if his Jeep had a leak. Jim soon caught
on to the prank and reciprocated appropriately by bricking up the rear axel
of Mr. Tutor’s van so the rear tires just barely touched the pavement.
Attempting to drive home for lunch one day, it took several minutes for Mr.
Tutor to figure out he didn’t have transmission trouble and that he’d
been had.
Dot Bell was a favorite target of Mr. Tutor’s pranks, some of which
included his lurking in a darkened hallway with a trench coat and Halloween
mask and scaring Dot when she passed by, taping pressure sensitive fireworks
to the wheels of Dot’s secretarial chair so they exploded as she rolled
the chair up to the desk, and the now famous pie/ snake incident.
Church members are always bringing treats by the office for the staff to
enjoy. On one occasion, Mr. Tutor made a mud pie in an aluminum pie pan,
placed a small, live snake on top of it, covered it with foil, left it in
the kitchen, then stopped by Dot’s office to tell her someone had dropped
off a fresh pie. At break time, Mr. Tutor made sure he was within earshot
and Dot’s reaction to the snake did not disappoint him.
I’ve heard a lot of those stories told and retold over the years, but
I have a few memories of my own. I was on hand the Sunday morning Mr. Cecil
Randle tried to have some fun with Mr. Tutor by challenging him about the
merits of a church-approved raise. Mr. Tutor turned the tables by offering
to reimburse Mr. Randle.
"Here, he said, reaching into his pocket and producing a nickel, "you can
have your part back."
Striving to present accurate information, and unsure as to whether the coin
used by Mr. Tutor was a nickel or a dime, I phoned Floyd McCullough to see
if he remembered.
"I believe it was a nickel," Floyd recalled then later added, "A lot of folks
thought Mr. Tutor was a little slow, but he wasn’t. He was brilliant."
Once, for reasons I don’t remember other than curiosity, I followed
a group of men, whose purpose was to inspect the roofs of the church’s
entire physical plant, up a ladder and onto the roof of the section joining
the sanctuary building with the old educational building. From there a second
ladder was used to reach the roof of the three story, old educational building.
I went last, but my fear of heights prevented me from going over the wall
and standing on the rooftop. Minutes later, I watched as Mr. Tutor, Sidney
Biffle, and Bill Jackson climbed onto the metal roof of the sanctuary. They
walked on the sloped surface like sure-footed mountain goats, as I held my
breath and prayed for their safety. Other than my fear of heights, there
was nothing funny about the events of that day, but it remains one of my
most vivid memories of Mr. Tutor, and it typifies Mr. Tutor’s dedication
to his work.
There were two preachers at Mr. Tutor’s funeral. I’ve previously
mentioned, Dr. Ken Hester, but Bro. Charles Stubblefield was there, too.
The most unusual remark I heard about Mr. Tutor came from Bro. Stubblefield,
who mentioned that Mr. Tutor never amounted to much. At first, I wondered
if he had misspoken, but he explained that such might be true in the eyes
of the world, for Mr. Tutor was not a striking individual; his physical presence
was not overpowering, and a speech impediment didn’t help him either.
His military title "Colonel" was honorary, one bestowed by Dr. Gordon
Sansing’s father who noted it was Mr. Tutor who seemed in command of
the church. When it came to fixing things around the church, Mr. Tutor knew
no equal. He was truly a handyman, skilled in the trades of carpentry, plumbing,
electrical work, painting, and gifted in repair of things ranging from the
simple to the complex. With his handyman skills, I believe it fair to say
Mr. Tutor saved the church far more money than he received as compensation
for his salaried position. And, that’s something that can’t be
said of most folks in the workplace.
At the funeral, Bro. Stubblefield also shared that Mr. Tutor never preached
a sermon, never taught a Sunday School class, or sang in the church choir.
But, there was something about Mr. Tutor’s personality that made him
unique, and in most of my personal dealings with "the Colonel," he could
cheer me up with just a simple remark.
Bro. Stubblefield served as interim pastor for First Baptist Church on more
than one occasion, and he recalled being cheered by Mr. Tutor, as well.
"I remember sitting in my office and sometimes feeling the weight of the
responsibility that goes with the job. Often, I’ve looked up to see
‘the Colonel’ standing in my doorway, not saying a word. I would
motion for him to come in and sit down. By the time he left, my spirits were
lifted, and I felt better."
Floyd McCullough was an honorary pallbearer, so Ruth McCullough sat by Barbara
and me at Mr. Tutor’s funeral and recalled the following, "Floyd came
back from prayer breakfast one Monday morning and told me their prayer leader
had asked each person to pray for the person on their left. That morning,
Floyd was seated on Mr. Tutor’s left. Floyd said, almost in tears, ‘I
wish you could have heard him praying for me. It was one of the best prayers
I’ve ever heard.’"
As far as I can tell, Mr. Tutor lived simply, not extravagantly, but he lived
well. No stranger to hard work, he always found time to have a good-sized
garden, though he worked at the church and maintained several rental houses
that he had acquired over the years. He also found time to dabble in woodworking
in his shop at home. Once, he made all the office staff at church a wooden
nameplate for their desks. One Christmas when Barbara worked as financial
secretary for the church, Mr. Tutor gave her a small manger scene he had
fashioned from scraps of wood. It’s become traditional for us to display
it somewhere in our home each Christmas since then.
Mr. Tutor’s generosity was evidenced again following the gift of the
manger scene. I had saved a large section of a tree limb ripped by strong
winds from the smaller black walnut tree in my mom’s backyard. However,
I never figured out what to do with it and donated it to Mr. Tutor. A few
weeks later he brought us a beautifully turned and polished black walnut
candleholder he had crafted using a wood lathe in his shop.
Two thousand years ago, one man lived a simple yet extraordinary life. His
physical features were not striking and the world "esteemed Him not." Today,
Christians celebrate His life of selflessness and worship Him as Savior of
the world. His name is Jesus. Through the centuries many have chosen to follow
Jesus and His example. "Colonel" James Lee Tutor was one of those whose life
was transformed by Jesus. He, too, lived a simple, yet extraordinary life,
a life that is remembered by many of us who knew him, loved him, and appreciated
him for who he was and for his contributions to the church and to our individual
lives.
The Mortician
Humorous House Call
While hospitalized, a number of friends dropped in to see me. Some, heeding
my advice of yesteryear, "When I’m sick, I don’t want company,"
waited until I was dismissed and visited me at home. I have mentioned it
before, but I really do appreciate all who contacted me whether by phone,
email, card, or personal visit. I’m also convinced that the prayers
offered on my behalf played a significant role in my return to health.
Most of us don’t have to think twice about visiting those who are sick,
but at least one occupation presents a unique problem for certain individuals.
Many persons in the Funeral Home business are uncomfortable visiting persons
seriously ill, facing surgery, or recovering from surgery. My good friend,
Jerry Bell is such a person.
Jerry chose to become a mortician about the time he married Dot Hogue in
August after the two of them graduated from high school in May of 1960. Jerry
and Dot moved to Pontotoc in 1968. Barbara and I moved to Pontotoc in 1970
and within a year or so became friends with Jerry and Dot.
I knew of Jerry’s aversion to visiting folks in the hospital, so when
he stopped by my home in the early evening on the day I was dismissed from
the hospital I not only thanked him for dropping by, but I assured him it
would have been okay had he visited me in the hospital. He explained that
a number of others held similar feelings, but still he found it better if
he didn’t.
"Even though you or someone else may not mind me visiting in the hospital,
whenever I do so, I most always run into someone who knows me and knows what
I do for a living. And, most of the time they will make a comment like,
‘Who’re you here to pick up?’ or ask if I’m shopping
for business, so I try to avoid hospital visits," Jerry stated.
By visiting me the evening I got home from the hospital, Jerry found me in
better shape to receive visitors than had he waited a few more days. After
I had been home for a couple of days, I actually felt worse than when I was
in the hospital. Even so, at the time of his visit, any laughter on my part
was painful, and I required a pillow to press against my abdomen whenever
I coughed or laughed. If my memory serves me, I didn’t sneeze until
about a month after surgery and that was too soon.
I was in an armchair in the living room when Jerry arrived; my feet were
propped on the ottoman. Jerry sat a few feet to my right on the loveseat.
We exchanged the obligatory "how are you’s" and had only begun to converse,
when he stood up, produced a tape measure, and pretended to take my measurements
for a coffin. Morticians do have a sense of humor, but they have to be careful
about showing it. Anyway, I couldn’t hold back the laughter, and I
couldn’t grab my stomach pillow fast enough.
I was reminded of the Hee Haw routine where a patient tells the doctor, "It
hurts when I do this," because it hurt when I laughed.
The picture associated with this article is posed, rather than a candid shot.
However, I thought readers might appreciate the humorous moment captured
on film.
In a small town with several funeral homes, I’m hesitant to name a favorite.
However, with regard to morticians, Jerry Bell has long been my favorite.
So, when it comes time for me to depart this world, Jerry Bell will be my
choice among the various morticians. He should be able to put me through
the express lane, as he already has my measurements.
Bodock Beau
Can This Happen To Us
A couple of the jokes below have been previously printed in this column,
but chances are the average reader can still appreciate them. Thanks to Dena
Kimbrell for the submissions.
I CAN HEAR JUST FINE!
Three retirees, each with a hearing loss, were playing golf one fine March
day. One remarked to the other, "Windy, isn't it?"
"No," the second man replied, "it's Thursday."
And the third man chimed in, "So am I. Let's have a beer."
SUPERSEX
An little old lady was running up and down the halls in a nursing home. As
she walked, she would flip up the hem of her nightgown and say "Supersex."
She walked up to an elderly man in a wheelchair, flipped up her gown, and
said, "Supersex."
He sat silently for a moment or two and finally answered, "I'll take the
soup."
OLD FRIENDS
Two elderly ladies had been friends for many decades. Over the years, they
had shared all kinds of activities and adventures. Lately, their activities
had been limited to meeting a few times a week to play cards.
One day, they were playing cards when one looked at the other and said, "Now
don't get mad at me ... I know we've been friends for a long time ...but
I just can't think of your name! I've thought and thought, but I can't remember
it. Please tell me what your name is."
Her friend glared at her. For at least three minutes she just stared and
glared at her. Finally she said, "How soon do you need to know?"
DRIVING
Two elderly women were out driving in a large car - both could barely see
over the dashboard. As they were cruising along, they came to an intersection.
The stoplight was red, but they just went on through.
The woman in the passenger seat thought to herself "I must be losing it.
I could have sworn we just went through a red light." After a few more minutes,
they came to another intersection and the light was red again. Again, they
went right through. The woman in the passenger seat was almost sure that
the light had been red but was really concerned that she was losing it. She
was getting nervous. At the next intersection, sure enough, the light was
red, and they went on through.
So, she turned to the other woman and said, "Mildred, did you know that we
just ran through three red lights in a row? You could have killed us both!"
Mildred turned to her and said, "Crap, am I driving?"
AUTO THEFT
An elderly Floridian called 911 on her cell phone to report that her car
has been broken into. She is hysterical as she explains her situation to
the dispatcher:
"They've stolen the stereo, the steering wheel, the brake pedal and even
the accelerator!" she cried.
The dispatcher said, "Stay calm. An officer is on the way."
A few minutes later, the officer radios in, "Disregard. She got in the back-seat
by mistake."
FAMILY
Three sisters ages 92, 94 and 96 live in a house together. One night the
96 year old draws a bath. She puts her foot in and pauses. She yells to the
other sisters, "Was I getting in or out of the bath?"
The 94 year old yells back, "I don't know. I'll come up and see." She starts
up the stairs and pauses "Was I going up the stairs or down?"
The 92 year old is sitting at the kitchen table having tea listening to her
sisters. She shakes her head and says, "I sure hope I never get that forgetful,
knock on wood."
She then yells, "I'll come up and help both of you as soon as I see who's
at the door."
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