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In Memoriam

Rarely will you find a more sensitive tribute to a parent than Deborah Fulbright has written to her father, Floyd N. Fulbright. Deborah handed this copy to us at the '93 Reunion. DLF

Hero Unsung

Leaving the last room, the corridor freshly mapped, gleamed in the Blind light.
"Don't walk here, the floor is wet."
A voice insistent.
The hospital continued it's midnight chores.

People rouse and glance, but soon sleep again.
Tears trapped within a guarded heart, unseen.

No bell tolls,
No dirges, no ceremony.
This earthly sphere, diminished, turning unknowing.
Heavens gain.

No statesman, celebrity, nor personage of fame.
Not so common a passing.
Wearing not the fool's gold garments of worldly recognition.
His weary back covered in denim.
It suited him well.

His beleaguered flesh housing an untarnished heart.
His body tethered by pain, his soul ever free and pure.
His calloused hands gently molded young years.
Steadfast, unchanging.

And yet, a life victorious.
Admired, esteemed by those gifted with vision.
A leader of men for those overseen.
Handsome of aspect,
A spirit transcendent.
An anchor reliant, for weathering the storm.

Nature's gifts,
Joy accepted.
Delights captured in creation
Creator's essence.

Natural Wisdom, uncommon.
Discerning the genuine, substantial, essential.
His life a beacon to the plain working men.
Respected less for position than for honor, deeds, labors for their benefit.
This worth more than riches or glory.
Ever honest, ever kind
Never uncaring of those the world ignored.
His unselfish acts knowing no motives, covering no black holes of desire nor deception
No expectations of favors returned.

Such hidden agendas as drive those seeking aclaim,
Unknown to him.
Medalled and wounded in a righteous war.
Life risked for many Unknown
Rather than spoken of and spent as cash for reward,
Kept silent.
Doing what was asked and had to be done.
But painful, and not thought heroic in his eyes.

His death as his life,
A model of quiet dignity,
Raw courage.
Of this, he unaware,
Not recognizing his own
Rare integrity
Yet the world takes but little brief notice.

Even dawn comes
The sun rises ever.
Not lifting this shadow, moves on.
Give him rest, freedom from pain.
A body unbent, limitless possibility.
A Never ending old west tale.
A shady stretch of water where the fish jump and a breeze freshens the air.
A garden to tend.
And a box seat behing first base, as the Redbirds take the series.

Deborah's father, Floyd N. Fulbright, was born in Independence County, Arkansas on March 17, 1925. He served in World War II in the European theater. He was in the 9th Infantry Division which was in the Battle of the Bulge and other famous engagements. He received the purple heart. He married Marian Alice Brock on June 26, 1948. He died May 10, 1988. The last Saturday of the reunion would have been Floyd and Marian's forty-fifth wedding anniversary. Both Deborah and Marian were at the '93 Reunion in Springfield.