Paris Hodge Fleming Jr., page 2
A Few Notes From the Family
From Paris' eldest son, Michael Fleming
On May 5, 1923, Paris Hodge Fleming, Jr. came into this world. He was the third
child and second son to Paris Hodge Fleming, Sr. and Dovie Jane Fielden Fleming.
I never knew why Uncle Clyde, first-born, was not a Junior. There were six children
– four boys and two girls. Uncle Claude and Aunt Helen are still with us.
Life in the Fleming household was pretty common for the time. They struggled as
most did. Times were hard. My grandfather was grateful to have had a job during the Depression, earning
a whopping $17.00 weekly, barely making ends meet.
By 1941, times were getting better. Daddy landed a job at the Aluminum Company
of America at Alcoa, Tenn. He worked a full-time job while attending Rule High School. He graduated in
1941. After graduation, he continued to work as a scale clerk at Alcoa.
Shortly after the war began, my uncle Clyde was inducted into service. He served
as a radio repairman in England with the 8th Army Air Corps.
My grandmother told me how relieved she was when she received a letter from the
plant manager at Alcoa. The letter stated Daddy would not have to serve in the military because his job
was essential to the war effort.
Granny was livid when Daddy and his best friend, Clarence French, volunteered for
service two weeks later. Uncle Ralph and Aunt Helen’s husband, Gordon Brooks, served with the Navy
during the war.
Daddy did his basic training at Tyndall Field in Panama City, Fla. Later he was
assigned as a gunnery instructor at a base in Fort Myers, Fla. Not a bad assignment for World War II.
He could have done just that - spent World War II on a beach in South Florida. But did he do that?
No! He volunteered for combat duty in Europe. When I asked him why he did that, he said,
"Young and stupid, I guess."
After additional training, he was off to Europe. He was to serve as a waist gunner
on a B-24 bomber. He arrived in Italy on June 6, 1944. That same day there were some things happening
on the beaches of Normandy, France. By the grace of God, Daddy survived 50 combat missions, bombing
some of Europe’s hottest targets, including Vienna, Ploesti, Bucharest and many others.
He never mentioned the war until about 20 years ago. All of a sudden, he opened
up and shared many of his experiences with me. My mother told me for a few years after the war he
would have nightmares. When she would wake him and ask what was the matter, he would say,
"Still fightin’ the war, I guess."
He told me about a German fighter flying through a bomber in his formation and
taking ten crewmen to their death. He told me about bombing the rail yards in Vienna one day. The first
wave of bombers dropped their bombs over the target. Anti-aircraft guns erupted. None of the first wave
planes were hit. When his formation reached the target, the Germans had zeroed in on the altitude. Sixteen
of the 28 planes were shot down. Two more did not make it back to base. By far, the very worst day for
the 15th Army Air Corps during World War II.
He told me about his plane being shot up so bad on a particular mission that
they were sent to an abandoned air field to land. All the hydraulics were shot out. Daddy and the other
waist gunner tied their parachutes to their machine guns as the plane landed, in an attempt to slow it
down. They counted over 300 holes from anti-aircraft flak.
On August 15, 1944, his B-24 crashed shortly after takeoff. By God’s grace, all
crew members survived.
About 15 years ago, Dad’s first cousin, Jim Fleming, asked me if I knew the details
of the crash. My reply was yes – the plane went down shortly after takeoff, no one was killed, and
the entire crew was awarded the Purple Heart for the injuries they received.
He asked me if I knew Daddy had pulled a fellow gunner from the burning B-24. I
told him I did not. When I asked Daddy about it, he said, "Margenson and I were the last ones out.
We went out together." After a long pause, he said, "I guess he was in shock and was sitting
there waiting for it to blow up." That might be the reason we always received a Christmas card
from the Margensons.
After recovering from the crash injuries and a serious bout of pneumonia, he completed
his 50th mission on April 26, 1945. The last mission flown by the 15th in World War II.
I suppose he'd had a belly full of flying. Instead of flying back to the States in a
few hours, he chose to come back on an old Liberty ship, where he won a small fortune playing poker
(which he dearly loved to play).
For someone who could have spent the war years making big bucks working overtime
at Alcoa, he went on one heck of an adventure for $40 a month. In June 1945, he was discharged
from service and back in Knoxville, Tenn. A returning World War II vet could take advantage of the
"52-20 Plan." An unemployed vet could draw $20 a week for 52 weeks. Instead, he landed
a job working at Oak Ridge one week after returning home. This is indicative of the work ethic he had
throughout his entire life. My brother will talk more about this shortly.
On April 12, 1946, my parents were married. They were married for 48 years. I
could not have asked for a better mother and father. They were also wonderful grandparents and great
grandparents. Our children and grandchildren dearly loved to spend extended time with Granddaddy and
Mom Key, and they loved having them. Our oldest daughter, Karen, would have stayed every day she
was out of school if we had let her. Our grandson, Zach, loved being there too. He and Daddy would
make things together. They had a great time with each other.
Our mother passed away in 1994. Dad and Jean married in 1997. Jean, I will always
be grateful for the love and care you gave our Dad.
At this time my brother Pat would like to say a few words.
From Paris' son, Pat Fleming
My brother said it best when he explained the type of man our father was. He was
a war hero, a family man, a wonderful caregiver to my mother and a great member of the Greatest
Generation our country has ever known.
My dad, Paris Hodge Fleming, Jr. was, in many ways, a simple man – a man
of humility – an unassuming person who took life as it came. Yet, he was always consistent in
how he approached life. This is because he lived by a set of values that he followed each day of his life,
without exception. Allow me to explain those basic values that guided my dad’s life.
First, he was a person of tremendous faith – a person who wanted to be judged
(whether by God or by his fellow man) by his actions and not his words.
Second, Dad always cared more about others than he did about himself. He received
the most joy when he could lend a helping hand to others. A good example of this took place on every
visit he and Mom made to see me and my wife, Marilyn. He would always pack his tool box so he could
make the many household repairs that had accumulated since their last visit. Of course, that did not say
much about Dad’s confidence in my ability to make those repairs. The fact is, making household repairs
were never my strong suit. Then, to add insult to injury, Dad gave my wife, Marilyn, a set of tools for
Christmas one year, citing the fact that he knew I was not capable of using them
Finally, Dad believed in the Golden Rule – treating others as he wanted to
be treated. He followed this principle every day, whether it was at work, home, or among his friends.
Those are values that gave direction to my father each day of his life. It is no
wonder that he turned out to be such a good and honorable man. Simply stated, these values defined
his life and how he approached it.
I had the rare opportunity to observe and work for my father in the workplace, first
when I would go to work with him as a child; second when I worked for him during high school and college;
and finally, when I became his peer in management after college.
I always found him to be a great leader of people – not because of his words,
but instead because of his actions. People responded to Dad’s leadership and they wanted to do their
part to make him, and his team, successful. Dad’s employees always had tremendous respect for him.
I always felt sorry for any leader who had to follow my dad, because there was no way anyone could live
up the expectations he had set for them. No one could measure up to the leadership principles employed
by my dad.
Dad was also a committed family man. He really had no hobbies except those
that involved his family. If he was not at work, he was at home. While he probably did spend too much
time at work, he always spent all his other time with his family. He loved my mom and all of his children
and I believe he cherished the time he spent with all of us.
In 1984, Dad made the decision to retire and become a full-time caregiver for my
mom. Dad’s retirement occurred about four years early and before he was economically or emotionally
ready to retire. By that time, Mom’s sickness had made it impossible for her to care for herself, so Dad
did the only thing he felt he could do – leave the world of work behind and become a full-time
caregiver.
For the next ten years, with no days off, he cared for my mother day and night.
While this was extremely difficult for him, I never heard one word of complaint. He considered this to be
his duty as a husband. When my mom finally passed away in 1994, my brother Mike thanked him for
his unbending service to our mom, Dad’s response was quite simple – and predictable. He said,
"I did not do anything for her that she would not have done for me." Yes, my dad was a very
special person and I love him dearly.
Before I turn the program over to Kathy, there are several people I wish to thank for
their service to my dad, especially during the past year. I understand that I might leave someone out, so
if I do, please accept my apology. First, I want to thank the members of Dad’s Sunday School class at
Wallace Memorial Baptist Church. Every time I came to visit Dad, there would be someone there from
this group. It meant a lot to him and to his family. Thank you for your support.
Second, allow me to thank Shelly Buckley. Shelly gave a lot of time and expense
to get Jean to and from the nursing home. I am not even sure how Shelly got to know Dad and Jean, but
I am sure of her devoted service to both of them. Shelly, thank you very much.
Next, I wish to thank two very special neighbors – Jamie and Sheila Piguett.
Jamie and Sheila rewrote the definition of what it means to be a good neighbor. We read all the time about
how we are not as close to our neighbors and I guess that is true. Apparently, Jamie and Sheila did not
receive that memo. They have been operating above and beyond the call of duty for a long time, and I
will forever be grateful for their service.
Finally, I want to thank Mike and Pat Nichols, their son Patrick and daughter Lorie,
along with Joan and Barney, for making Dad a part of their family. No one can fully understand how comforting
that was to Mike, Kathy, and me, especially since we all live out of town and could not be here as much
as we would have liked.
Allow me to tell a very short story. Most people do not know that Mike Nichols
and I were childhood friends. In fact, we were best friends. There were many days that I was in Mike’s
home, eating dinner with Mike, along with his father and mother, Dickie and Ruby. In many ways, I was
a part of their family. Then, some 45 years later, Mike and Pat again welcomed my dad into their family.
I will always be appreciative of that, Mike and Pat. Thank you for making my dad a part of your family
for the past 13 years.
My final words are for Jean. Both my dad and Jean had been previously married,
both for 48 years. After losing their spouses, both were very depressed about life and had no real direction.
But on a fateful day, Ray and Christine Fielden, along with some divine intervention, introduced Dad and
Jean. The rest is history. It was love at first sight. Immediately the twinkle in my dad’s eye returned, and
after marrying on a cold day in January 1997, both loved each other until the very end.
The last year since my dad fell and broke his hip has been very difficult for Jean. It
was then that Jean had to give up her fight to keep dad at home, and place him in a nursing home. However,
Jean never turned away from Dad. She was with him, caring for him, almost every single day since Dad
went into the nursing home. It was the true test of love – and like my dad’s love for my mom –
Jean passed the test with flying colors.
Jean, I sincerely thank you for your service to Dad and also for letting me be a part
of your family.
At this time I’ll turn the program over to my sister, Kathy.
From Paris' youngest - his daughter, Kathy Fleming-Chambers
Everyone in this room has been touched by Daddy in some way. I don't have to
tell you what a good man he was, you already know that through your own personal experiences with
him.
We had a great childhood. Daddy often played jokes on us. I was happy, the baby
and the only girl! My daddy was my hero. He had great big biceps and strong legs and I thought he'd
saved the world in WWII. I felt like the safest kid in the world.
Momma was a wise woman and often used idioms to make a point and to make
us think. She said a lighthouse doesn't need a horn. Daddy was a lighthouse.
He kept us safe and secure as children and was there for us as adults. As an adult,
one time I found myself in a state of rebellion against God. My path was leading me to trouble. I became
convicted of my sin and needed help to make it right. The last thing I wanted to do was to disappoint
Daddy, so I kept it from him as long as I could. When I couldn't keep it hidden any longer - I made the
call. I told him what was going on. He responded, "Honey, I've just been waiting for you to call."
You see, My Daddy's love made it easier for me to understand my Heavenly Father's
love for me. Many of you may not have had a Daddy that was understanding and gentle and if you didn't,
maybe you could look toward my Daddy and let him guide you toward our Heavenly Father's love and
forgiveness. When we find ourselves in those circumstances, our Heavenly is just waiting for us to call.
Thank you Daddy for living as a lighthouse.
As a very wise woman once said, "A lighthouse does not need a horn."
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