I have been rummaging through old postings at this new site, which I guess is not so new after all, being old and recycled. Here or there I fix a spelling error and replace displaced images but for the most part I let the shit sit as is. I found a story about the word Oleander, a beautiful but poisonous plant that was the name of the street in Daytona Beach where my father lived for 25 years. In that story I commented on a failed attempt to find the obituary written by his second cousin and published in an East Tennessee newspaper. That was February, 2008. Now, almost 10 years later, it looks like that obituary surfaced online just last month. The story itself is dated 2005, as it should be. But the datestamp on the search engine result says October 1, 2017. That is quite possibly incorrect but with no archive of the story on the Wayback Machine it would require an inquiry of the Greenville Sun to know how long that article has been available online.
It’s slightly odd seeing my nephew’s name listed as a survivor, since he was quite young at the time.
The word “unexpectedly” in reference to the circumstances of his death is, as I learned from this obituary, a code. It was used when Leslie died, though I never knew anyone from her world well enough to confirm that she, too, was a suicide. My father’s passing was the farthest thing from “unexpected” to him, of course. It was planned down to the minute, and the test gunshot. He had never fired a gun in his life. When a downstairs resident said he had heard two gunshots I briefly entertained a possibility that someone else was involved, and that it not a suicide but a murder. No. He fired the first shot to make sure the gun worked. The stain left on the floor became a comical source of frustration for the deep cleaners brought in by the management company that handled such things.
It’s interesting how little I I really know about dad’s life. I cannot find it at the moment but a few years ago I was haunted by the discovery of a picture in a Kingsport newspaper showing my father among a group of other kids at a birthday party. A child’s birthday party was front page news because, well, it was Kingsport. That’s just what news was in East Tennessee back then.
Coincidentally I today find myself in contact with a police investigator in East Tennessee with regard to a homicide investigation. Evidently suspects involved in the case used their cell phones to look up payphone locations in the area. This investigator wanted to know if I had IP addresses from around September 1, and unfortunately I do not. I say “unfortunately” but that assumes the inquiry is even legal. Intriguing but a little dirty to know that murders were hitting up my little website. I guess it should not be lost on me that the subject attracts a certain element.
In fact I recently installed a new hit reporting software that might have shed light on this unlikely inquiry. But I only installed it about a month ago. The search queries were made around September 1. I’m no use here, which is too bad if only for the potential intrigue.
In case it disappears from the Greeneville Sun here is my dad’s obit, typos and all:
Norman Day Thomas
Norman Day Thomas, 71, a 25-year-resident of Daytona Beach, Fla., and formerly of Greeneville and Kingsport, died unexpectedly Sept. 3 at his home.
Mr. Thomas was a son of the late James Earl and Georgia Day Thomas.
He was a graduate of Castle Heights Military Academy in Lebanon.
After graduation, he joined the U.S. Army in 1959.
He served at a number of bases around the world during his 30-year career, attaining the rank of chief warrant officer for the U.S. Intelligence Command.
After retiring from the Army, he became a member of the U.S. Defense Investigative Service in the Florida area for a number of years.
During his military career he received a number of awards, including the Legion of Meritorious Unit Commendation, Laos, a Good Conduct Medal, and the Joint Service Commendations Medal.
Mr. Thomas was a member of the Veterans of Foreign Wars, Disabled American Veterans, and the American Legion.
Survivors include his wife: Carole Thomas of Tampa, Fla.: a daughter and son-in-law: Diane and George Laucirica of Tampa; a son: Mark A. Thomas of New York City; and a grandson: Dylan Laucirica of Tampa.
He was preceded in death by his twin brother, George Thomas.
The funeral was held Sept. 11 at Height Black Funeral Home with interment in Florida National Cemetery in Bushnell.
Memorial contributions may be made to the Florida Sheriffs Boys Ranch or to Rheatown Cemetery, c/o Edith Jaynes, 195 Jockey Road, Chuckey, TN 37641
This obituary was provided as a courtesy of Jeffers Mortuary/
