Author: jflucas3

Dad wasn’t perfect.  He had his mischievous side as well. That’s where I got mine. When he proposed to Mom during his medical residency, he didn’t have enough money to buy her a proper ring, so instead, he gave her the ring of a pig’s umbilical cord, and told her he would get a better one soon.  

Our Grandmother Bell, “Granny” as we called her, used to make the best boiled custard and banana pudding.  When she brought that banana pudding over in a huge glass dish, all the children eagerly looked forward to it cooling overnight and having it the next day.  But Dad, loving banana pudding as much or more than the children, would sneak in the kitchen at night, and eat most or if not the whole dish.  The next day, when everyone looked in the refrigerator and asked “what happened to the banana pudding?”, Dad would just be smiling like a Cheshire cat, knowing what he had done.

But Dad was truly kind, compassionate, understanding and wise.  I was the only child who did not pursue a career in medicine.  I was studying pre-med because that is what all the Lucas family was supposed to do.   I felt a call in a different direction from medicine and was very worried about disappointing my Dad.  When I finally told him that I did not feel called to be a doctor, Dad calmly and wisely said, “Son, if your heart is not in medicine, you don’t need to be a doctor.  Certainly don’t go in it for the money.”  His understanding words lifted a huge weight off my shoulders and allowed me the courage to pursue a theological degree in the years ahead. 

Dad knew the hearts of his children, and wanted the best for us. Dad also had a fierce determination to take care of his children and insure their well being.  When I was working in a church in Savannah, Georgia, I started to have a sharp pain in my abdominal area.  I had just eaten a very spicy meal at a Mexican restaurant, so I thought it might be the jalapenos.  I called Dad and he asked me to prod around to locate the pain.  Then he asked me to stand on my tiptoes and quickly drop to my heels. He asked if it hurt, and I said, “Yes, very much.”  He replied that I had appendicitis and that I needed to go to the hospital.  I went to the hospital, but the emergency room was too crowded, and it would be hours before I could see a doctor. I called Dad again, and he said to go to the MEA clinic.  They confirmed what Dad already had diagnosed over the phone.  I had appendicitis.  I was concerned and worried.  Dad said, “Don’t worry, son, I am coming to get you. You are going to be ok.”   Dad called my uncle Billy Whittington, who had a small plane, and the two of them flew off from Greenwood to Savannah.  The only problem was the airport had closed so Billy had to land in the dark, and the college kids from the church managed to hoist me over the cyclone fence close to the runway.  The three of us flew back to Greenwood in the early morning hours, where my brother John was waiting at the hospital.  John said to me in his witty, playful way, “I’ve been wanting to cut on you all my life.”  Of course I was in the best hands, and John had me on the road to recovery very quickly.   Dad and my brother John, the father and son team, and my uncle Billy Whittington, had come to my rescue. 

 I will always cherish that story of the relentless, pursuing love of my Dad, who embodied so much the heavenly Father’s undying love for us.   I would like to close with beautiful remarks about my Dad by my brother-in-law Mickey Naaman and his friend John.   “Dr. Lucas was as close to the most perfect Southern Gentleman as anyone I’ve ever been around.”  “He was smartest man I have ever met.”  “The most humble man I have ever met with everything to brag about but didn’t.” He was all that and more.  Dad will be greatly missed by all,  and I know he would want us to continue his legacy by loving one another and loving God as he did.  

To say that Dad was a wonderful Dad and person is an understatement.

He never pushed us but always expected us to do our best in everything we did.

He never criticized but always encouraged.

He never gave unsolicited advice but always gave the best advice when asked.

He was kind, compassionate and always genuinely interested in others.

He was calm. He never raised his voice, well, maybe when the Rebels weren’t playing up to par.

He was abundantly generous.

He loved the Lord, he loved his family, he loved his friends and he loved life.

He was goodness personified

He was the best Dad ever.

Dad’s favorite piece of chicken was the drumstick. In 1962 Dad was driving his 4 kids from New Orleans to Greenwood with another Tulane resident, George Arrington. I was 1 and a half. Some time into the trip I started crying and George Arrington asked Dad if there was something he could do to make me stop crying. Dad had bought a box of chicken and it was positioned between Dad and George. Dad patted the box and said “Give that boy a piece of chicken”. George gave me a piece of chicken which calmed me down. Dad looked in the rear view mirror and said “George, what piece of chicken did you give him?” George said “The drumstick” Dad said “No George, that’s drumstick is for me. Get it back and give that boy a neck bone” I know this story because George Arrington found me at Russell Williamson’s engagement party 30 years ago and basically told the story to me as an apology, that taking that drumstick from me was one of the hardest things he had ever done, because I seemed so happy with that piece of chicken. I told George not to worry about that anymore, that since then, Dad did not buy the chicken. Mom and Lucinda did, and they were buying enough for everyone to have a drumstick.

Dad’s favorite fish may have been mackerel. Not because he ate them often, but because he often referred to the mackerel when the outside temperature was really high or really low. In the winter he would say – It is as cold as a mackerel. In the summer he would say – It is as hot as a mackerel. Apparently the core temperature of a mackerel can vary a great deal.

Dad’s favorite drink was a gin and tonic. 15 years ago, during our family vacation at Fort Morgan, I had the bright idea of having brunch at the Dauphin Island Country Club, by boat. I told dad how wonderful the view was overlooking the gulf in the main dining room, how good the brunch menu was, and how going by boat would enhance the whole experience. We left Fort Morgan for the 15 mile trip to dauphin island. I had a tiny boat with no seats for passengers. Dad was sitting on a 54 gallon igloo cooler, holding a handle in each hand. The water was choppy and the boat ride was very rough. As we banged up and down, the skin over Dad’s knuckles were worn down and by the time we got to the Dauphin Island Country club, his hands were pretty bloody and he was pretty shaken. We arrived, worn out, only to be reminded that since it was a Monday, the main dining room was closed. The only thing open was the snack bar by the pool. It was about 10:00 in the morning, the waitress took our orders for breakfast. Dad’s order was a gin and tonic. The waitress came back with our water and orange juice and apologized to dad that there was no tonic. He replied “EVEN BETTER”, I”LL HAVE 3 FINGERS OF GIN. I tell that story because since then, I have used that phrase “Even Better” with greater appreciation. When things exceed expectations, or when you are determined to make a challenging moment a more positive one, it is a good response.

Dad’s feet were especially narrow. He wore a double AA when he could find them. Bostonian made a leather Oxford in a double AA. They fit him okay, but tennis shoes did not come in a double AA. He had to wear 2 pair of socks to play tennis. I think one or both pair were wool. People would watch him play and say, your day sure is light on his feet. I said he should be, he is running on 2 inches of wool. He claimed that since monkeys had short fat feet, that his long narrow feet were proof he was further along the evolutionary tree.

We all have countless stories about Dad, and he had countless stories about other people. And they were funny. It mattered not the topic, it could be weather, sports, vacation, world events, it mattered not. He would slip in a very appropriate funny story that would be connected in a seamless way. Every time. It was magic. And so was his life. To have been blessed with 50 years of marriage to mom. To have touched so many lives with his practice of medicine, to have brought so many babies into the world. And to have done that side by side with his own father and his own son, one influenced by the other. What a blessing. To have been an inspiration, if not the inspiration, for what ?? Eleven ?? of his own choosing medicine as a field. What a blessing. And after being a center piece of his family and a whole community, to have been blessed with Mary Dent as his wife. Mary Dent, who was already family, who made that home, 502 Poplar, the most welcome place for all of us. What a blessing. And to place on top of all of that the love each of you expressed to him, showed to him, and he to you, He would say, and we would agree “EVEN BETTER”

You all know what an avid Ole Miss fan dad was. He rarely missed a home football game in Oxford. He was so enthusiastic about the Rebels that he was once nominated for President of the Leflore County Ole Miss  alumni association but had to decline since he had never attended Ole Miss. You may ask why not.  The story behind this is that his father Dr. Lucas Sr was on the Dance Committee, the equivalent of the Student Council at Ole Miss in 1919. Governor Bilbo banned fraternities on campus in 1919, and someone burned him in effigy. Doc Doc was called to the Chancellor’s office but did not reveal the name of the perpetrator. Consequently he and his future brother in law were expelled from Ole Miss. At that time if you were expelled from one SEC  school you could not enroll in another, and he and RH Lake had to go all the way to University of Virginia to find a place to  attend.  Consequently Dad was forbidden to enroll at Ole Miss.

Tennis was certainly a passion of his and his group had standing match Wednesday evening and Saturday morning.  Tennis became more popular at the GCC and soon required reserving space in the Club calendar. Some of the women tennis player had the audacity of reserving a court during those Tennis was certainly a passion of his and his group had standing match Wednesday evening and Saturday morning.  Tennis became more popular at the GCC and soon required reserving space in the Club calendar. Some of the women tennis player had the audacity of reserving a court during those sacred times. Dad had an idea to correct that problem he knew that the County Club appointment book was printed by his tennis partner Elliot Lawrence so on the next printing, the book came preprinted with the Wed and Sat times reserved for the men’s tennis group. Another story is how dedicated they were to playing every Wed and Sat. Even flooding would not stop the appointed tennis. In 1973 when there were severe floods, the courts were separated from the parking lot by a large lake. They solved that problem by covering the distance from the parking lot to the courts in a fishing boat.

Dad most of you know was a no nonsense person and especially when it came to medicine. His children had to be seriously ill before getting anything more than an aspirin. This story truly exemplifies that trait. He served two years in the navy, and on his first day on board as the ship’s doctor, he was taken by the physician that he was replacing on a tour of the ship. After breakfast he was taken to the sick bay where there was a long line of sailors waiting to be seen. The first had a minor complaint and received a supply of aspirin and a pink light duty slip. The next sailor also had a minor complaint and also received aspirin and a pink light duty slip. And on and on.

The next day was Dad’s first day as the skip’s doctor, and sure enough there was a long line outside of sick bay. The first sailor came in, and dad sat him down in the exam chair and purposely left the door open to give the sailors in line a good view. He ask the sailor why he was there.  The sailor replied that he had a headache. Dad asked him to point to where, and the sailor pointed to his right temple. Dad then pulled out a 10 cc syringe, filled it with saline, and attached it a 6 inch spinal tap needle and proceeded to inject the saline, harmlessly, into his right temple. The sailor fainted, and the line miraculously and suddenly disappeared. After that, only sailors with real complaints showed up at sick bay.

Personally I have been the only one to have had the honor of practicing surgery with Dad, and no one could have had a better mentor and teacher to learn the craft of surgery from. I learned more in the first few years about being a surgeon and a caring physician than I did in all of my years of training.

Dad, I am truly thankful that you found someone in Mary Dent that you could spend your last years with in such joy and happiness. She has been a blessing to him.

Dad I will miss you dearly.