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(1912 - 1976)

My father, Lindsay Thomas Boyd, was born to Benjamin and Maggie Boyd on April 25, 1912.  He was the baby of the family.

At a young age, he joined the army where he served in World War II.  After returning home, he met and married Ruby McRath.  To their union three children were born Thomas Lindsay, Yvonne Vanita, and Yvette Anita.

My father was a man of courage, loving and devoted parent.  He instilled a lot of values and morals in all of us.  I can remember when we were in school he was always at the events we participated in.  He was a devoted baseball fan, too.  I remember how he would take all of our friends to the games with him.  All we had to do was ask and off we would go.

When my father became ill it was one of the worst times of my life.  I remember going to the VA hospital to see him and the excitement he showed when he saw us.  When he died, it left a big vacant place in our hearts.  One of my regrets was that he didn't get to see my sister and I graduate.  But I know that he was in heaven looking down on us saying, "Well done babies."  He always called us his babies even when we became teenagers and it would make us laugh.

So as I write this passage, I am thinking of a good and loving father who left us all far too soon.  I miss you daddy.  May God bless and keep you always.

Your loving daughter,

Yvette Anita Boyd Byrd

The Perfect Uncle

Lindsay Thomas Boyd

On her deathbed, Mama told her baby boy to take care of his sisters.  This was a vow that he took seriously and he never failed to fulfill his promise to his mother.

My Uncle T was a wonderful person.  He provided unconditional love and support to all of his family.  He did not discriminate between any of us.  If there was a need, he provided for it.  He, like his parents and siblings before him, set the example that we should all live by.

Many of you do not know about the pain and suffering that he endured as a result of the war.  It had to be one of the most painful times in his life and it is an episode that I can never forget.

Papa had not heard anything from Tboy in a long time.  He tried endlessly to find out what had happened to his son.  About 13 months had passed when word finally came that he had been injured and was in a VA hospital.  We were all relieved that he was alive but we did not know the extent of the injuries he had suffered.

When he was released from the hospital and was able to come home, he was still in a lot of pain.  He had been burned from the back of his neck down to his legs.  He told us that he had to lie on his stomach for those 13 long months while he was recuperating.  To help relieve some of his pain, Dorothy and I had to rub his back and legs in linseed oil every day and night.  We would squeeze the pus from the sores in his back.  He regained enough strength to go to work at the pipe shop, but his back still bothered him so we kept up the task.

Several years later, he decided to build the house that still stands on Church Street.  Buster and I