Elder Leadership and Family Wisdom
My paternal family has been holding bi-annual family reunions since the late 1970s. This tradition, which was launched in 1979 by my grandfather Horace Thomas Sr., has served as a way for multi-generations of our family tree—extending from Mamie Hightower in the 19th century—to renew our bonds of affection and to honor all from our elders to the young people who represent the future of our clan.
For me, early on, the family reunion was about good food and laughter, telling both true and tall tale stories, and honoring the perseverance of our people despite the many forces arrayed against us. Now, as the status of eldership is being passed on to me and others of my generation, I’ve become acutely aware of the lessons elders in my family have passed on to us, similar to the wisdom Jewel discussed in her last post, “Signals of Strength and Family Love.”
In the same way that I believe it imperative to honor the masters of jazz music while they are here with us, the same holds for the elders in my family. As our family looks forward to our 22nd family reunion, which will be held in Dallas, Texas and hosted by cousin Carol Holmes and her husband for the very first time, some of my cousins and I are taking a moment to honor some of the elder men, specifically Henry Morgan, Norman Thomas Sr., and Horace Thomas Jr.
Uncle Henry
“How are you doing, Uncle Henry?”
For almost as long as I can remember his response has been an upbeat: “SU-PA!” My uncle Henry married into the family through nuptials with aunt Charlotte, the second of three girls born to Horace Thomas Sr. and Mary Thomas, my beloved grandma “Tina Mae.” In addition to Uncle Henry’s exclamation of the word “super” in person, on the phone, or from the pulpit, what I remember most about him is his willingness when I was a young tyke, precocious yet naïve to so much of life, to speak with and listen to me as if what I thought and felt mattered. There were times that I recall being upset about one thing or another; speaking with Uncle Henry would calm me down and bring me back to center.
And he’d plant seeds of wisdom that sprouted value to me as an adult: “Greg-grey,” Uncle Henry would intone, “when you are grown, if you have trouble paying a creditor, don’t just let it go and ignore them: Call them, explain, and ask for more time.” Considering my financial struggles over the years, that advice came in handy. But Uncle Henry’s wisdom was also passed on to his and Aunt Charlotte’s children, Labett and Henry Jr.
My cousin Labett, a self-proclaimed daddy’s girl, feels that her dad was her first love, and “my rock, my heart, and my soul.” She considers him
. . . an awesome father, provider, pastor, teacher, husband, and role model. You always told me that when you walk out the door, make sure that you are looking and feeling your best.
I’m so glad that God picked you to be my father. You taught me to be a strong Black woman, to stay focused and determined, to always keep God and family first, and to set my goals. You've always been my backbone and my support team. I so thank you and Mom.
Your first born LaBett aka Miss Georgia Peach
Henry Morgan Jr., who followed in his dad’s footsteps as a minister of the gospel of Jesus Christ, wrote the following:
The most important value that I learned from my father, Henry Morgan I, is PRESENCE. One simple definition of the word presence is one that is present, visible, or concrete in nature. My father’s consistent, unwavering, and unconditional presence in my life from day one has eternally marked me as a man, husband, father, brother and friend. My father personified the definition of being present. He traveled for work tirelessly but was always home. His presence wasn’t ethereal—it was tangible, authentic, raw, honest, and transparent. His presence presented the perfect model for me to emulate. He showed me how to apologize when I was wrong, own my responsibilities, love my wife and children, and be a man of integrity. Because of my father, I believe that the greatest value that I can give to my family is my PRESENCE.
Norman Thomas Sr.
My grandaddy Horace, from whom I learned about the value of “constructive criticism,” would always have his nephew Norman give the keynote addresses at the formal dinner on Saturday evenings of our reunions. He’d pepper his motivational speeches of wisdom with gems such as:
“Some people drink from the fountain of knowledge, others just gargle. Whatever you do, don’t gargle.”
“You can’t get ahead trying to get even.” And his most famous saying:
“Live in your sunshine(!) and not in your shadow. Because many of the shadows in life come from standing in the way of sunshine.”
When I’d speak with cousin Norman, his big smile and firm handshake would make me stand taller. He’d always urge me to keep my word and to follow-through on my promises. But three reunions ago, at the repast after the closing Sunday church service, he stunned me. I came to discover that cousin Norman, a Morehouse man and member of the Boulé, was blessed with a powerful memory. I told him that one of my intellectual heroes was Ralph Ellison.
He paused, looked at me with gravity, and began reciting:
I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids—and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me.
Turns out Ellison was a favorite of his too. But most favorite to Cousin Norman are his and his beloved wife Inez’s children, Norman Thomas Jr. and Angela Thomas-Bethea, a successful Principal of a magnet school in Atlanta, Georgia. Writing on her and her brother’s behalf, Angela shares this:
My brother and I have been so blessed and honored to have our father physically present and active in our daily lives since birth. He has been a constant source of love, intellect, laughter, strength, support, financial stability, and inspiration throughout my 50 years of life. His life’s work as an educational administrator, civic leader, historian, role model, and motivational speaker has inspired us in so many ways. Imagine living in the same house with someone who wakes up to intentionally inspire and uplift those around him? What a blessing and privilege it was to grow up in a home with two loving parents where love, high expectations, and positive vibes were the norm.
I walk with confidence each day because my father provided me with the tools, resources, and opportunities to do so. He instilled in us Christian values and the importance of a good education. He also encouraged us to pursue our dreams, while protecting and supporting us as we worked diligently to achieve them. He always told us that ‘to whom much is given, much is expected,’ so we understood early on that we should stand up for what’s right, serve the community, and share our gifts, talents, and money with others! He also taught us that book sense doesn’t matter much if you don’t have common sense, so we learned to think before we acted. He demonstrated through his own actions how to ‘start each day with a PMA (positive mental attitude).’ He also showed us how to ‘live in our sunshine,’ and to ‘never let anyone or anything steal our joy.’ These are words that were instilled in us early in life that have carried us through our most challenging life experiences. We are who we are because of our father, Dr. Norman Harold Thomas, Sr.
Horace Thomas Jr.
I am who I am because of my father, Horace Thomas Jr. and my mother, Ida Rose Thomas. They were quite young when they conceived me; they moved to the Big Apple from Georgia to strive for a better life for themselves and me. Although they separated and divorced early in my life, my father has been in my corner, rooting for me and advising me, especially from my teenage years. He’d tell me that if you learned sales, you’ll never starve. It’s a fundamental business skill that he learned by selling men’s clothes at Saks Fifth Avenue, doing door-to-door sales, and by launching several products, one of which—a female swimsuit line with an open heart-shape on the bikini backside—was stolen by one of the big clothing chains.
Planting the seeds for my later love for the blues idiom, my dad would tell me: “If you ain’t got nothin’, you ain’t got nothing to lose,” as a foundation for why working-class folks should become entrepreneurs. He’d emphasize the importance and value of owning your own home and your own business. When discussing entrepreneurship, the phrase “unlimited possibility” would roll of his tongue right into my imagination.
In the mid-70s, he moved back home to Waycross, Georgia from New York City to become a general contractor, but decided to begin as a painting contractor instead. While In NY, painting apartments and homes was one way he made ends meet. To make his mark and establish his brand at home, he called his business MR. PAINTER. From the age of five or so I’d spend most summers down South, spending time with aunts and cousins in Jacksonville, Florida and with my paternal grandparents in Waycross and with Grandma Honey, Martha Roberts, in Ludowici, GA. I was used to it being summer play and relaxation time so I bristled at the prospect of doing painting work with my dad in the red clay, pecan-tree heat of Georgia summers. But in retrospect, observing my father’s work ethic and unwavering commitment to quality was seminal in my development. He took pride in his work and didn’t cut corners. I came to admire the way he’d hold the brush and carefully paint so as not to leave paint marks on the ceiling or crown molding of a home. He took care to do each job right, so much so that repeat business, word-of-mouth, and referrals became the mainstay of his enterprise.
My father also built and ran a golf driving range in Waycross, designed and manufactured a multi-use product called the painter’s holster, and set an example of civic and cultural leadership by spearheading an effort to have a segment of major highway in Waycross named after one of the most renowned sons of the town, Ossie Davis, who attended primary through secondary school there from the mid-1920s through the Depression years.
The Golf Driving Range Story
My dad and me on the grounds of the golf driving range he launched in Waycross, GA in the late '70s.
My dad has been a student of golf for as long as I can remember. He followed Tiger Woods' development from the time Tiger was five years old, and Lee Elder and Charlie Sifford were among his golf heroes. Along with the customary pars, birdies, eagles and holes-in-one, phrases such as "from tee to green" and "a player leaking oil" peppered our chats. As much as I loved the physical, aesthetic and mental side of basketball, my dad was as passionate about the mix of power and control to strike with accuracy from the tee, the roughs and sand traps of life as you approach the green, and the focus, finesse, and delicacy of touch required to get the golf ball into the hole.
Dad saw a plot of land owned by Sam Scott, who at the time was one of the largest mobile home builders in the state of Georgia. Scott had hired my dad, who usually focused on residential and commercial properties, to put together a crew to manage painting for Scott Homes mobile properties. My dad took on the challenge and also hatched a plan to get that plot of virgin land transformed into a golf driving range.
My dad took a rectangular electronic football set and transformed it into a mini-golf driving range model with artificial turf, flags in holes, and miniature golfers. He took this model to Sam Scott's mansion. Scott met him on the porch; dad placed the model down in front of him.
Scott looked at the model, then looked at dad. Then he stared at the model for a long time. When he looked at dad again he said, with a heavy Southern drawl:
"Horace, you've put A LOT of thought into this haven't you?" Yes, he had. And yes he did: my dad got the permission to develop the driving range, which demonstrated to me that indeed you can take a dream and actualize it, from tee to green.
Today, as a homeowner and CEO of my own successful business who strives for civic and cultural leadership, I know that my father’s example and words of wisdom helped paved the way. Thanks for everything, dad.
Love,
Greg