I went to the funeral service of a dear friend today. We hadn’t been in close touch for a little while, but I will always remember how kind he was to me when I was a young girl in college at odds with almost everyone in my life. Mr. Fleming Thomas was my work-study supervisor at the university library. To use a very Southern phrase, he sort of cotton’d to me I guess and looked after me like a kindly uncle. He often picked me up on Sunday mornings and took me with him to church or would give me a ride back afterwards if I decided to walk it.
Fleming was no paste-board saint by any means. He suffered fools not at all, and had a sardonic wit that he sometimes put to use commenting on the messes I often made at the library and in my life. But he seemed to believe in me and in my dream of being a librarian. He was a big part of the reason that I became a librarian. He knew that. He also was a big part of the reason that I became an Episcopalian. I regret that I may never have told him that.
Although I only saw him occasionally after I left college at library conferences or on a flying trip back to my alma mater to visit friends, I retained a deep fondness for him as I pray he did for me. I felt better about the world knowing that Fleming Thomas was a part of it. I feel a little more homesick for heaven today because of his passing on.
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