Farewell to a Favorite Uncle

My great uncle, J W "Chubby" Thomas, passed away today. He was 93 years old. He had battled and beat cancer a number of times over the years, but blessedly, he appears to have died peacefully at home, sitting in his favorite chair.

Chubby was my grandmother Cleo's younger brother and the fourth of nine children. Apparently, he was pretty fat as a baby, hence the nickname "Chubby". And in spite of the fact that he ended up a pretty skinny guy, the nickname stuck. His actual name was J.W. - that's it - just the initials. I have no idea why. Maybe if he had been the ninth kid, I could see where you might run out of names. When he joined the military during WWII, they wouldn't accept just the initials, so he became John Wesley - the name of his grandfather.

During WWII, he served in the infantry and spent almost 4 years fighting in foxholes across Europe. His unit was in Milan in April 1945 where he saw the body of Mussolini hanging following his assassination. It was something he rarely talked about, but he did talk to me about it once when I was working on a school paper about the war. It seemed hard for him to talk about, but he knew my love of history - both world history and our family history - and he wanted me to do well. It was a special feeling to know that he cared about me enough to share such an obviously troubling memory.

Chubby and his wife Lil really doted on my mom and her sister, and I know that they were among Mom's favorites. They were the only relatives other than my grandparents that accompanied my parents when they went to New York for their TV Wedding. Their daughter Susan, 3 at the time, was the flower girl. When my brother was born prematurely and was hospitalized for several months, and again after I was born with several birth defects and had to spend a lot of time in and out of the hospital during the first 3 years of my life, Chubby and Lil would come down from North Georgia and would sit with us at the hospital so that Mom could get out and have a short break once in a while. They also came down and helped my mom and aunt when my grandmother was dying.

(Uncle Chubby, my grandmother Cleo, my great-grandfather Papa, Uncle Tom Jack and me - 1966)

It was always a treat to drive up to North Georgia with Mom and stop for a visit. He loved putting together puzzles, and he always had one in process when we would stop by. I enjoyed helping him out and listening to his silly jokes as we worked.

(Great uncle Chubby and my aunt (and his niece) Charlsie during one of our visits in 1999.)

In spite of his advancing years and bouts with cancer, he was still one of the most vital and alive people I've ever known. He could still drive, and when his younger family members fell ill, he would drive them to the doctor, pick up their groceries, and cut their grass to help out. He was just an all around good guy. I will miss him, but I am thankful to have had him be part of my life.