Saturday, April 17, 2021
I will miss my friend, Gene Wright.
He had a kind and honest soul.
For more than 10 years, Gene and I talked at least once a week. Officially, he was supposed to be cleaning offices, but he usually spent about 15 minutes with a broom in his hand and 45 minutes chatting with me.
I’m glad he did.
Gene was easy to talk to. A good listener. He knew just enough about everything to engage you in a conversation. He was a storyteller. One of the best things about his narratives was the level of detail. Gene had a precise memory. He could recall an incident from 40 years ago and remember exactly what everyone was wearing. He’d say, “I’ll never forget it, she had on a blue dress and white shoes.” And then there were the detailed size comparisons. “It was a table. And it was from about that wall,” as he gestured to the back wall, “and about halfway to the door over there.” You knew exactly how big the table was.
He cherished the family returns. He was fascinated by his family and its history. At the reunion, he always checked out the culinary selection. He could tick off, item for item, exactly what was in the breakfast buffet at the hotel. He’d describe how he dressed for the big dinner. And the transportation to the event. The bus ride.
It many ways, life sort of rolled onto Gene. But what a full life it was. Growing up in rural Georgia in the 1940s. Joining the U.S. Army. Multiple tours in Vietnam in the 1960s. Thailand. Germany. He touched so many people in so many different places. A life well lived.
Gene was always interested in learning more about his family history. It fascinated him. He could trace his ancestors by memory and knew detailed facts about most of his relations – past and present. Family remained important to the end. I know Gene is already watching his wife Norma, his children, grandchildren and the rest of his family from heaven, the only possible place for such a kind and honest soul.
I will miss my friend, Gene Wright.
Jim McCanney
April 7, 2021
Thomas E. May, Founder 1946-2022