Family photo of the descendants of Wayne and Velma Shearer
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Dr. C. Wayne and Velma Shearer
One hundred years ago today, my father, Dr. C. Wayne Shearer, was born in Chattanooga.
Perhaps last year or even earlier this year, I and others envisioned some sort of small celebration for him, as is surely worthy of anyone who reaches the age of 100, especially someone like him who was still blessed with a sharp mind. But as many who knew him know, he died on May 18th after actually only a month or six weeks of deteriorating physical health.
As a result, a 100th Unfortunately the birthday party did not take place.
But my out-of-town nephew Logan Julian and his family had already tied a possible birthday visit into another trip several months ago, so since everyone was in town last weekend, we decided to at least get a group photo of all of his descendants in front of the house where he lived for nearly six decades.
With the help of a lovely neighbor’s daughter across the street, all 17 of us were able to smile for a photo or two over the last few days. This included two children (including my sister Cathy Morris), three grandchildren, nine grandchildren, and three in-laws!
I had planned to write a personal remembrance of him immediately after his death, as is often the custom, but several people had paid him and his obituary so many compliments that I didn’t really feel the need to add anything else.
It was quite different when my mother, Velma Shearer, died in 2012, after about 10 years of cognitive decline and many of her peers had already died. I felt a strong need to tell her entire life story as I experienced it.
But for my own sake, I wanted to at least briefly pay tribute to my father’s life on the occasion of his milestone birthday, just as I hope that you all feel compelled to do so for your loved ones on such occasions.
I also wanted to point out that Representative Greg Martin – who knew my father well – had kindly started the ball rolling on a joint House resolution honoring him for “his honorable and wise service to the State of Tennessee.” The resolution was put together several weeks earlier with the additional help of Representatives Patsy Hazlewood, Esther Helton-Haynes and Greg Vital, and Senator Bo Watson, and before anyone knew it, his days were numbered, although of course he was 99 years old.
I was at least able to tell my father about the nice gesture, and Representative Martin presented me with some formal copies of the resolution on nice paper shortly after his death.
My father was born in East Chattanooga in 1924 and was named, he said, after Dr. Wayne Hysinger, a respected and beloved East Chattanooga physician. He was also the person for whom the former Boone-Hysinger public housing complex was named.
His mother, Eva Mathis Shearer, had just graduated from high school, while his father, CC Shearer, was nearly 30 years old, had already fought in the trenches in World War I, and had a thriving career as a banker. At the time, he worked at the Bank of East Chattanooga in a building that still stands at the intersection of Glass Street and North Chamberlain Avenue. It later became the East Chattanooga branch of the Hamilton National Bank and then the First Tennessee.
According to the old city directories at the Chattanooga Public Library, the family lived in what appears to be a still-standing house at 2704 Glass Street sometime in 1924. This house was probably in a very middle-class suburb in an area far from the city center, but now it is in an area that is trying to redevelop and renew itself in various areas.
Shortly before that, they had lived at 2900 Noa Street, another building in East Chattanooga that is also still standing, or at least was until recently.
My grandfather later saw an opportunity to advance in banking in Cordele, Georgia, and that’s where my father grew up. Unfortunately, they ran into financial trouble during the Great Depression, as did many bankers and others, but they survived.
My father went on to be high school class president, a pilot in World War II, and then attended the University of Georgia and optometry school in Memphis. He enjoyed driving to Chattanooga to visit relatives during his childhood – his mother had preferred Chattanooga to the flatter and smaller Cordele – and decided to open an optometry practice in Red Bank in 1955. He remained in Chattanooga – his birthplace – for the rest of his life.
A few people told me after his death that they were impressed by his involvement in the community, including the Methodist Church, veterans’ organizations, the Republican Party, and civic groups. I told them that for the past six or seven decades, he had pursued only two main issues and that he still had plenty of time for his family.
And he never seemed overly busy outside of work hours either. He knew how to get his job done efficiently.
Although he was, as we mentioned in the obituary, easily approachable, he also knew how to look intuitively and sometimes intensely at the horizon, whether in the car or in his interactions with people. This practical disposition and his good heart, I believe, helped him in many ways to live to nearly 100 years of age.
And we are all grateful for that as we remember him on this special anniversary.
In addition to a little party, Laura and I probably would have taken him to his favorite ice cream parlor, Clumpie’s, to treat him to a vanilla cone, just as he said he used to enjoy Southern Dairies ice cream when he visited the Scenic City as a young man.
Happy 100ththDad. We miss you!
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