My Father-in-Law: A Tribute

Today, 34 years ago, my father-in-law, Ray Arthur Threlkeld died. It was 1983. It was a bitter cold day on Springer Street and colder still on New Year’s Eve when he was laid to rest on Joe Johnston Hill at Crest Lawn Cemetery. He was only 63 years old. He had outlived his mother, father, and two brothers. I never got the chance to know him, up close and personal, but I do know him in a plethora of ways. I know his work ethic, because scores of people still tell me what a great automobile mechanic he was. They often comment that they sure wish they could take their car to him today, to fix. I know his penchant for perfection. I live it everyday with his daughter. I know his skill at organizing, because parts of his big garage are as he left them. Tools and papers organized to the max. I know his caring for boys that needed encouraging and help. He hired such young men to work in his garage. Being an orphan at age 13 (his Mother had died when he was 3 years old), he always tried to reach out to those that struggled, often no fault of there own. I still bump into adult men who were recipients of his kindness. I know he loved history, Deborah relishes (and I so enjoy hearing) in retelling the stories of Atlanta that her father lived and shared with her — 1939 Gone With the Wind Premier, Winecoff Hotel fire of 1946, Atlanta Crackers Baseball team playing at the Ponce de Leon Ball Park, The Varsity, Yellowjacket Hot Dogs, Krystal on Lee Street, and Sears on Ponce. I know he loved his family and helped them and stayed close to aunts and his two brothers, the older of which was KIA on Christmas Eve during WWII. And, he always made sure his father-in-law, John Wells, got to go fishing, even after Mr. Wells’ stroke. I know he loved his country. He always remembered and recognized his brother, Staff Sargent Richard R. Threlkeld, who was killed in action in World War II and is buried in France. I know he managed his finances well. He left no debt and owned few credit cards. He was a cash man, when it came to paying. I know he knew all about cars. He passed that on to his daughter. I know Mr. Threlkeld, because I know his daughter, who loved her Daddy very, very much … and misses him still. She was and is her “Daddy’s Girl.” He was a city boy (from Atlanta/Fulton County). He never enjoyed staying with his paternal grandmother during summers in very rural Elbert County. We have some “funny” family stories about those forays! I know him because his footprints and fingerprints are up and down Springer and White Streets. He speaks to me still. Shared in loving memory of Ray Arthur Threlkeld.